#Virgil is… getting along with somebody from his past? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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So Give Me Hope In The Darkness

Dukeceit Week Day 4: Free Day

Janus comes to him scared and broken. And there is nothing Remus wouldn’t do to help him.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 8855

Warnings: violence, dehumanization/people as test subjects, implied past abuse.

@dukeceitweek <3

“Remus, the transport’s here. You ready?”

Remus looked up from where he had been meticulously finishing the last fold on the absolute best paper airplane he had ever made in his life. “The what?”

Roman, leaning against the doorframe of Remus’ office, sighed deeply. “For the love of all things Disney and musical theatre, Remus, check your e-mail on a regular basis.”

Remus glanced at his desk. His laptop sat half-buried in crumpled up reject airplanes, the screen dark, so he slipped his phone from his pocket to check his e-mail with instead and… oops. One official work order, sent over 40 minutes ago, and three more messages from Virgil that all read somewhere along the lines of “Jesus Christ Remus respond to this so we know you read it.” Which, of course, he hadn’t.

“Uh…” Remus said helplessly. Roman scrubbed a hand down his face, then motioned for Remus to follow as he stepped back out into the hallway. Remus scrambled after him.

“I’ll fill you in, but we need to hurry,” Roman said.

“The hell do they need me for? Wasn’t it just another one of those underground lab bullshit raids? Those always turn up fucking zilch.”

“Not this one,” Roman replied and, well, shit. Now Remus was interested enough to shut up and let his brother talk. “They actually found, like, the real headquarters. Evil scientists and all.”

“Fuck yeah, good for them. Logan and Virgil have been working themselves to the bone...r. But why do they need me?”

Roman gave him a look. It was his it’s time to be serious now, Remus look. “They found a, uh…” he hesitated, looking for the right word. “A test subject.”

“Oh.”

Well that answered that.

By this point, Roman had reached the door that led out to the parking garage. He stopped at the door and gave Remus a pointed look.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Remus muttered. Quickly, he emptied out his pockets and shoved his phone, wallet, keys, a small notebook, a miniature lockpick set, and a pocket knife all into Roman’s waiting hands. The last time he’d tangled with an aggressive gifted, he’d gotten the entire contents of his pockets- as well as the pants themselves- reduced to a pile of molten plastic and ash. “Right. Here I go.”

“Logan will brief you. Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine, bro, chill out.” Remus patted Roman’s cheek- which his brother couldn’t do a damn thing about with his hands full of Remus’ stuff- then pushed the door open and made his way out to the intake dock.

There was already a small crowd gathered around, a safe distance from where the armored transport van had been backed into the receiving bay. Logan, Patton, and Virgil were there, of course. But the presence of a handful of armed officers was a surprise. Logan usually refused to allow the police department to send their thugs into situations like this. This sort of thing was what Remus was on the payroll for.

“Wasn’t expecting a party,” Remus said as he approached his team. Logan turned away from his conversation with Virgil.

“Ah, Remus. There you are,” he said. “I take it you have read the work order?”

“I… skimmed it,” Remus lied. Logan looked unimpressed.

“Well, just in case you missed anything important, let us recap. Virgil?”

“Uh, yeah.” Virgil stepped closer, looking troubled. “We found a gifted in there, probably a test subject knowing these bastards. He’s aggressive, borderline feral, and those jokers-” He jerked his head in the general direction of the uniformed police. “Didn’t fucking help the situation. I couldn’t reach him, but I don’t know if that’s cause he’s in a state of mind where logic and reason are completely out the window, or if he’s… like us.”

Remus nodded. His own powers would work where Virgil’s had failed, but only if this one wasn’t completely immune to the effects of other gifteds like he and Virgil were. He turned to Patton. “You got anything for me, pops?”

“Of course!” From the pocket of his white doctor’s coat, Patton produced a small capped syringe filled with bright blue liquid. “I had to guess at the dosage, though.”

Remus accepted the tranquilizer and shoved it in his pocket. It would be a last resort. Looking to Logan, he asked, “Any ideas on powers? What to watch out for?” He was not pleased to see Logan grimace.

“We don’t know yet. The base is still being swept, so it will likely be some time before we will know what, if any, information was found on this subject.”

There was a heavy thunk from inside the armored van that made Patton jump.

“Sounds like we don’t have that kind of time,” Remus mused. “Somebody wants out.”

“He was restrained when we found him. Blindfolded, too,” Virgil offered. “So he needs either visual, touch, or both.”

“Really narrows it down there, Virge,” Remus said with a huff. There was another thunk. “I’m going in. Standard operating procedure?”

Logan nodded. Remus nodded back, then looked to Virgil.

Virgil led him through the crowd of uniforms, snapping at a few of them to move back, and up to the back doors of the van. He met Remus’ gaze. There was another thunk.

“Ok, now!” Remus said. Virgil tore open the door. Remus threw himself at the gifted on the other side, and Virgil slammed the door shut behind him.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, so when he collided with a much smaller body, his momentum sent them both sprawling across the back of the van. Remus was bigger and stronger though, and didn’t have the disadvantage of being blindfolded, so he flipped the smaller body easily beneath him, wincing slightly at the hiss of pain he heard, and pressed a palm firmly against the bare skin of his neck.

“Why don’t you take a nap,” he growled. His power reached into the body, weaving its way into the circulatory system to slow the heart. Or, well. It tried to. He couldn't get a hold anywhere.

“Fuck. You are like us,” Remus muttered; more to himself than to the other, who was becoming increasingly difficult to hold down as he writhed and struggled against Remus’ weight. With his free hand, Remus reached around to try and fish the syringe out of his pocket. But the movement put him off balance. The gifted threw him off with a sharp jerk and scrambled away.

They both staggered to their feet on opposite ends of the cramped space, and Remus got his first good look at the gifted. His long blonde hair was a tangled mess, and he was still blindfolded- though he tracked Remus’ location enough to bare his teeth at him. Some sort of restraint seemed to be keeping his arms behind his back. Remus kind of wanted to murder whoever had done this to him.

“Hey, look, I’m not trying to hurt you,” he offered, even though he knew Virgil had already tried using his literal powers of persuasion on him. “I swear, I’m just trying to help you. But you need to calm the hell down.”

The gifted had pressed his back up against the wall of the van. Talking wasn’t going to do shit. The sooner Remus ended this the better. He rushed the gifted again; the gifted spun out of his grasp, and his hand closed on… feathers? The fuck? Whatever. The gifted had cornered himself against the back wall of the van. Remus spun sharply and slammed his weight into him. Winded, and with his back pinned into the corner, there was a precious few seconds where the gifted made no move. That was enough time for Remus to slip the cap off the syringe and jam it into the gifted’s thigh.

His muscles immediately went slack, and Remus carefully lowered him to the floor, mindful of the goddamn wings he could now see were strapped down tightly against the gifted’s back.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” he asked sadly. He leaned over to bang three times on the van wall to signal the all clear to Virgil. A sudden, sharp pain raced up his other arm, and he jerked back with a yelp. The gifted had apparently gathered enough strength for one last act of defiance and had lashed out to fucking bite him, what the hell? Remus pushed him back down to the floor, and this time he stayed down.

One of the back doors to the van eased open, and Virgil peeked in. Remus turned to him, and the whole world spun.

“Ah, fuck,” he managed. “Venomous. Cute.”

And then he promptly blacked out.

Remus woke up in one of the dimly lit rooms of Patton’s infirmary. Patton had a vendetta against fluorescent lights, instead opting for soft, warm lights that didn’t give everyone headaches. Remus was thankful for this every time he woke up here- which was often- but especially now. His head was throbbing, and he kind of felt like he’d been hit by Virgil’s big armored transport van. Which he had before (his own damn fault) so he knew exactly how it felt.

His phone buzzed. Wincing at the movement, Remus glanced over to the small table beside the bed where his phone sat amid the pile of his other belongings. Which meant he had been out long enough for Roman to stop by and leave again. His phone buzzed again, so despite his body screaming at him for doing so, he reached over and grabbed it.

His team’s groupchat was filled with missed messages from the past hour. He scrolled through the most recent ones with a slight frown.

Nerdy Wolverine

Patton, please give us an update on Remus’ condition.

Daddy

He’s gonna be just fine, kiddos, he’s just sleeping it off.

Daddy’s Favorite

👏👏👏

Surly Temple

Oh joy.

Daddy’s Favorite

You were just as worried as the rest of us, Dr. Gloom.

Surly Temple

You can’t prove that.

Daddy

Calm down, kiddos.

Nerdy Wolverine

Patton, I would also like an update on the subject.

Daddy

Are you sure? There’s kinda a lot to talk about.

Nerdy Wolverine

Something brief, then. I will come by the infirmary when this meeting is over.

Remus

Logan, texting during a meeting??? 😱😱😱

Surly Temple

Remus!

Daddy’s Favorite

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!

Remus

I lived, bitch.

Daddy

I’ll be right there! Don’t you dare sit up!

Remus was already in the process of sitting up when Patton burst through the door. He winced slightly at the pain, but moreso at the disappointed look Patton gave him.

“Uh-uh, you lay back down, mister,” he said. Remus sighed.

“I’m perfectly fine, pops,” he whined, but laid back down anyway, because even Remus knew better than to argue with Patton.

“Maybe, but you know the drill,” Patton replied. Remus made a noise of protest, but let Patton take his vitals and check him over. Then after an eternity- or more accurately, about five minutes- Patton stepped back and said, “Alright kiddo, you’re all good. Take it easy though. Maybe go home after the debrief, ok?”

Remus sat up now that he was allowed to. “I can’t believe that little fucker bit me,” he scoffed. He glanced down at his arm, where it had been bandaged up. “What happened to him? Where is he?”

Patton looked a little uncomfortable, which more or less answered Remus’ question. The agency would be forced to hold the gifted here until the illegal lab had been fully cleared out and all the paperwork filed; and, well, there was a good chance Logan’s bosses would send in government officials to “assess the mental stability of the liberated test subject,” which was really just shitty politician speak for “see if this could become a huge scandal and decide if it was better to just make it all disappear.”

“Fuck,” was all he said. Then he got unsteadily to his feet. “Where’s Logan?”

Patton put a hand on his shoulder to help steady him. “He’s in a meeting with the chief of police. They’re trying to take the case.”

“Teach won’t let ‘em,” Remus said proudly. “I’m gonna, like. Go sit in my office. Cool?"

Patton eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. Remus gathered up all of his stuff from the table beside the bed, and darted out the door before Patton could change his mind.

When Janus woke up, he immediately became aware of three things, in consecutive order.

First, he was somewhere he had never been before. That realization did not come as a surprise. He, of course, distinctly remembered the whole… “getting dragged out of his cell by people he didn’t know” incident. Usually he knew better than to lash out, but… there had been so much noise, so much unfamiliar chaos, and in his fear, he hadn’t known what else to do. And of course, it hadn’t done him any good; it never did. And now he was here. Wherever “here” was.

The second realization did come as a surprise, as he sat up on the cot where he’d been laid, and looked around the sparse, softly-lit room: he was completely unbound. His wings were still instinctively pressed against his back, but they twitched at the realization and slowly unfurled to their full span. He winced slightly as tendons snapped into their proper places for the first time in a very long time but then he sighed in relief as the fragile bones settled.

He had only just begun to catalogue the state of the rest of his body when a voice startled him into the third realization: he was not alone in the room.

“Damn, look at you!”

Janus flinched so hard he almost hit the wall the cot was pushed up against. He brought his wings around him protectively, and turned his eyes on the man sitting on a plastic chair near the opposite corner of the room. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized the voice of the man from the truck.

“Hey, hey, don’t ruffle your feathers at me like that,” the man laughed. “Sorry about before, man. It was the only way to get you off the truck.”

Janus didn’t say anything. But he shifted so he was crouched on the cot rather than seated, in case he needed to dart away quickly. That seemed to amuse the man further.

“Relax, I ain’t here for a rematch. You kicked my ass fair and square. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Janus glared.

“I’m Remus, by the way. You got a name, snake-bird?”

He stood up as he said it, and Janus instinctively flinched back. The man-Remus?- didn’t look like the bad people, dressed in baggy jeans and an alluringly soft-looking green flannel. The bad people always wore white coats or body armor, depending on what they were planning to do to him that day. But… maybe they were just trying something new.

The man hadn’t moved closer. He was watching Janus with a look that fell somewhere between sadness and anger, and it kind of made Janus want to curl up into a ball and hide.

“I, uh… I guess they treated you real bad down there, huh?” Remus said slowly. “Look, I know you’re scared, and you’re probably super confused, but you’re safe now. I can at least promise you that.”

He didn’t wait for any sort of response from Janus this time, instead turning to riffle through the bag that had been leaning up against his chair. He withdrew a fluffy, pale yellow blanket. He looked between it and Janus, and while Janus wasn’t the best at reading facial cues, he thought for a moment that Remus looked… embarrassed. Then, he moved forward a few paces and set the blanket down and backed up again.

“Here, uh… that’s for you. If you want it. Anyway, yeah. I’m gonna just.” He edged toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Janus.” His name leapt from his tongue before he could stop it. His voice was raspy, and his throat was sore, and he was still afraid- terrified- but still he ground out the words that made Remus pause in the doorway to look back at him. “I’m… Janus.”

The file Logan put down in front of them was almost the size of the textbooks Remus used as doorsteps in college (rather than their intended use) and for a moment, they all just stared at it. Then, Remus said what they were all thinking: “Well, fuck.”

“I hate to agree,” Roman sighed. “But yes. That.”

“Of course there will be much more to go over after I have had the time to fully analyze these files, but I thought it imperative I explain the current situation to you all as soon as possible,” Logan said. He was seated at the head of the conference table. The rest of the team was seated around the table except for Virgil, who paced restlessly nearby. Everyone- even Remus- stayed quiet, because when Logan talked, everyone listened.

“With this file, and similar documents recovered both from the most recent site and from previous sites, as well as the recovery of a live test subject, our case is more than sufficient to ensure those responsible will not walk away from this.”

There was a collective sigh of relief. Virgil, who had been working on this case alongside Logan for years, looked especially relieved. He collapsed into the chair next to Remus, and Remus leaned over to ruffle his hair with a grin.

“You guys should be proud,” Patton exclaimed. “You worked so hard to see this through!”

“Well it’s not finished yet,” Roman pointed out. He nodded to the file in the middle of the table, that none of them had dared to open yet.

“Roman is correct,” Logan said. For a moment, he looked very tired; then, he adjusted his tie, and continued. “We must first ensure we have indeed apprehended all parties responsible. There are more names in these files than persons in our custody. Additionally, there is the matter of the test subject-”

“Janus,” Remus interrupted. Everyone gave him an odd look, so he clarified, “His name is Janus. He told me.”

“...Janus, then,” Logan amended. “Janus is to remain in our care until he can be evaluated. If he is deemed capable, he will be free to go once the investigation is closed.”

Logan did not, nor did he need to, state what would happen to Janus if he didn’t pass the evaluation. The agency’s evaluation essentially just looked to see if a gifted could still be considered a “person,” or if they had gone “feral”- and not in the fun way. Feral gifteds got locked up somewhere and were never seen again.

Remus, like all gifteds, hated it; but the government viewed them as dangerous. And a gifted that wasn’t in complete control of their mind, and thus, their powers, was considered too dangerous to let go free. Regardless of what trauma had made them that way in the first place, and if, with proper care, they could heal from it. It made Remus sick.

“They’re not taking Janus,” Remus spat out, interrupting whatever Logan was going to say next. “I won’t let them.”

“Ree,” Roman said gently. “We may not have a choice.”

“No. You guys haven’t seen him- he isn’t aggressive, he’s just scared.”

“Do you know how many people it took to get him into the damn truck?” Virgil snapped. “Oh and also, he bit you? You’re immune to gifted powers and he still knocked you out?”

“Think about it from his perspective. You’ve been trapped in literal hell for who knows how long, and then suddenly you’re getting dragged out by people you don’t know, blindfolded and tied up, to go who knows where? I’d bite too.”

Patton looked heartbroken at Remus’ words. Virgil didn’t look convinced. But it was Logan who spoke.

“We have time,” Logan said. “Until the investigation closes, he remains in our custody. We make the decisions regarding his care.” He cast Remus a meaningful look, and repeated, “We have time.”

Remus understood.

He left Janus alone for the rest of the day, because he figured the guy probably could use some time to calm down. He even managed to persuade Patton to put off any sort of medical examination for the time being- partly for the same reason, and partly because Remus would need to be there in case Janus reacted badly, and Remus still sort of felt like shit and he just wanted to go home and sleep.

So Remus had gone home, passed out for like 15 hours, and woke up feeling a little less like death and decay.

The benefit of going to sleep at like 2pm was that, even after his stupidly long “I got bit by something venomous” nap, he still made it back to the agency at the crack of dawn. It was quiet, none of the police department’s goons hanging around, and Remus, with his years of practice, could sneak easily past Logan’s office.

He peeked in through the little window in the holding cell door. Janus himself was nowhere to be seen- instead, there was a Janus-sized blanket mound curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. The sight made Remus smile fondly.

“Damnit, you’re actually kinda cute,” he muttered. And then promptly decided he was not going to overthink that.

Remus camped out outside the holding cell until the headquarters came to life. The mornings were always a flurry of activity, even moreso today what with yesterday’s events. He saw the moment the noise from the hallway woke Janus up- the gifted poked his head out from under the blanket, mismatched eyes blinking sleepily, and then quickly vanished into the blanket mound once more. It was stupidly adorable.

An intern came by with a tray of food for Janus, and Remus stopped him from approaching the door.

“I got this, kid,” he said with an amused grin. “This is way above your paygrade.”

The intern handed over the tray with a look of relief and scampered off. Poor kid.

The blanket mound stirred when Remus stepped into the room, but there was no further indication that Janus intended to come out. He shut the door behind him, and walked over to crouch down near- but not too near- the blanket mound.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I take it you like the blanket?”

The blanket shuffled backward a few inches. Remus set the tray down on the floor in front of him.

“I don’t really know what kind of food you like, so hopefully there’s something here you'll eat,” he said, eyeing the assorted fruits, toast, and eggs that had been sent up. “But like, if you want something else, you can tell me.” There was no response, so Remus stood up slowly and backed away. “I’ll just… be over here, then.”

He dragged the plastic chair to the opposite end of the room to give Janus as much space as possible, and plopped down in it with every intention of waiting him out.

It took about forty minutes of idly scrolling through his phone before Janus emerged, slowly and warily, mismatched eyes darting between Remus and the plate of food. Remus glanced toward him.

“Go ahead. It’s yours. Cold by now, I’ll bet.”

It took a further ten minutes for Janus to make up his mind and emerge fully from under the blanket and approach the plate- but when he finally did, he downed the food so fast, Remus was surprised he didn’t choke.

“Guess you like everything,” he mused. “Fuck, did they even feed you down there?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer, because Janus was moving back toward his blanket. But rather than vanishing again, Janus sat down facing Remus, with his back to the wall, wings draped around his body like a blanket, and the actual blanket across his lap.

“They did, sometimes,” he replied. His voice sounded a bit rough still, like it had been a while since he’d used it, and quiet enough that Remus had to strain to hear him from across the room.

“Shit, man, these people fucking suck. How long'd they have you?”

Janus seemed to consider the question, but ended up just shaking his head. “I don’t know.” He avoided Remus’ eye for a few minutes, but he looked like he had more to say; Remus just waited in silence until finally, Janus asked, slowly, “Why am I here? Who are you?”

“I’m glad you ask, bud,” Remus answered. He stood up, and Janus flinched back slightly, feathers puffing up a bit. Remus moved a few feet closer, and then sat down on the ground so he was level with Janus. “It’s kinda a long story, but the short version is that it’s our job to go after the kinds of people who do this sort of shit. And the people who took you are gonna go to jail for the rest of their fucking lives for what they did.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “They ain’t gonna lay a finger on you ever again. I promise.”

Janus eyed him carefully, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe what he was hearing. Remus couldn’t blame him. And then he was gone, vanishing back under the yellow blanket. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, and stood up.

“I, uh. Yeah. I guess I’ll leave you alone then.” He paused at the door, and glanced over his shoulder. “You want more blankets? Some pillows, maybe?”

A muffled “Yes,” was the reply. Remus, again, could not help but smile fondly to himself.

Sleeping on the floor meant that Janus could stay alert to anyone approaching his cell, by sensing the vibrations in the ground. By his third visit, Janus could easily discern Remus’ gait from that of the others that passed down the hall.

He brought pillows and more blankets, just like he said he would. And then he asked if he could bring a friend in.

“He couldn’t give you more than a quick once-over when you first got here,” Remus explained while Janus sat on the floor and inspected his new blankets, marveling at how soft they were. “But he wants to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere.”

“I’m not hurt anywhere,” Janus said quickly. It wasn’t totally a lie; he wasn’t hurt anywhere specific, he just sort of hurt in general. That was normal though.

“Ok, I’m gonna pretend I believe that,” Remus huffed. “But even so. He’s gotta do it sometime soon.”

Janus cast Remus a sideways glance. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the situation, and he still wasn’t sure how much he could trust these people. The ones before had never shown him kindness- he’d been grabbed off the street in his early teens and treated like an animal ever since. This new place… it felt different from anything he’d experienced before, and that made him wary.

Being shown kindness and then having it taken away was worse than having never been shown it at all.

“Okay,” Janus said finally, because he didn’t think he was actually being given a choice in this.

“Okay,” Remus echoed. He seemed unconvinced, which sent a small spike of anxiety into Janus’ chest, because the last thing he wanted to do was upset Remus. The man had brought him blankets, for goodness’ sake. “I’ll text him.”

Janus decided to busy himself with nervously running his hands through his oily feathers. His wings badly needed grooming, but he didn’t know how to ask for brushes. Would they let him have brushes here? He wasn’t allowed them at the old place. He was so lost in that thought, that he didn’t sense someone approaching the door until it was being opened.

“Hey, pops, come on in,” Remus said. Janus glanced over, and was immediately gripped by panic.

He didn’t recognize the man, and his expression of “cheer fading into concern” was an unfamiliar one, but it was the white coat he wore that Janus recognized. He knew what the white coat meant.

He got caught in his pile of blankets as he tried to scramble to his feet. He tripped and crashed to the ground; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus make a grab for him. But he was too quick, kicking off the blanket that had tangled up his legs and springing to his feet. He used his wings to balance himself and buffeted Remus over the head in the process.

“Janus- fuck-” Remus staggered back to avoid a second blow from Janus’ thrashing wings. The man at the doorway looked torn between rushing in to help and backing away. Janus bared his fangs at him, but he was shaking so badly, he felt like a small breeze could topple him.

The man took a step closer, hand held out, but Janus barely heard his words- “Oh gosh, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you!”- over the blood pulsing in his ears. His back hit the wall behind him, and abruptly his legs gave out. He slid down to the ground and curled his wings over his head.

“Janus?” Remus’ voice sounded far away beyond the curtain of feathers. “Hey, you gotta talk to me here.”

“I’ve been good,” Janus managed to choke out. “I- Please don’t, I’ve… I’ve been good.” He curled further in on himself, fully expecting to be struck.

But nothing happened. The door opened and closed. Then silence. Janus risked a quick peek through his feathers and found that the other man was gone. Remus sat a few feet away.

“It’s ok, he’s gone,” Remus said quickly. Janus did not lower his wings, but the shaking abated slightly.

“I’ve been good,” he said again, a little more firmly this time. “You promised.”

Remus looked unnerved. He scooted a few inches closer and asked, “What did I promise?”

“That they… they wouldn’t hurt me again,” Janus hissed. Then, softer this time, “I’ve been good.”

“You have been good, but that doesn’t have anything to do with… wait, did you think…” Remus looked confused, his brow furrowing slightly. “Patton isn’t one of them. Is that what you thought?”

Janus just glared.

“Oh, snake-bird.” Remus’ eyes softened. “Patton’s one of us. He’s ok.”

“He looks like them,” Janus growled. “White-coat.”

“White coat… oh, shit, man, I didn’t even think.” The sudden volume of Remus’ voice made Janus shrink back into the safety of his own wings. “Oh, shit, sorry. Hey, come back. I’m sorry.”

Janus folded his wings back with a huff, and gave Remus an unamused look. Remus gave him a soft smile in return.

“I mean it. Patton is one of us. I can tell him to take off his coat. He won’t touch you unless you tell him he can. And you can tell him to leave, at any point, and I’ll throw him out myself. Deal?”

Janus searched his face for a long time. Remus seemed… so distressed. What would be the point, of faking that? There would be no reason to fake any of this, would there?

(Or maybe there was, and he was just too blinded by the hope that his nightmare had finally come to an end to see it.)

But slowly, reluctantly, but unable to shake the small seed of trust in Remus that had just started to take root, Janus said, “Deal.”

After the small fiasco that was Janus and Patton’s first meeting, things actually went rather smoothly. Patton wasn’t able to give as thorough of an exam as he was hoping. Janus was too skittish for that. And he had flat out refused a blood draw, which Remus had kind of expected.

But at the very least, Patton was able to sign off that there were no signs of physical trauma that demanded immediate medical care, which was really all Logan’s bosses wanted.

Despite his initial reaction, it seemed like the experience with Patton actually helped Janus feel more confident in his new situation. He grew more comfortable exercising his new control over his body and his space, even going so far as to tell Remus to go away when he wanted to be alone. And when he asked for brushes for his wings one day, Remus left work then and there to go get them. When he came back, Janus was waiting at the door for him.

“Well then, eager beaver, I hope I got the right stuff,” Remus said. He handed over the bag. It was way more than the two brushes Janus had asked for, but Logan had given him the company card and, well, Logan should know better than to do that.

“Anything is better than a rag and my own hands, which is what I usually use,” Janus said. Remus very politely did not make the joke he so desperately wanted to make. “Is that… a bottle of dish soap?”

“Sure,” Remus answered as Janus pulled the little blue bottle of Dawn dish soap out of the bag. “They use it to clean crude oil spills off penguins and shit and, like, a penguin's a bird, right?”

Janus sighed deeply, but he was smiling, and Remus would steal him the sun if it meant Janus would keep smiling.

“Anyway, uh…” Remus shifted awkwardly. “I can, like. Leave you alone, I guess. If you want. Unless you want… uh, never mind, I’ll go-”

“Would you help?” Janus asked. He glanced down at the bag in his hands, and added, with much less confidence, “Um. There are parts I can’t reach.”

“Yeah, of course,” Remus said immediately. “Just tell me what to do?”

Janus guided him to sit down on the ground, and then plopped down next to him. He carefully spread one of his wings out and, after a moment of hesitation, let it drape across Remus’ lap. Remus tried not to feel too overwhelmed by the incredible amount of trust Janus was putting in him right now.

“Here,” Janus passed one of the bristle brushes to Remus- one of many that Remus had bought- and then chose one for himself. “Just go with the growth, please. But if you find any loose feathers go ahead and work them out. Gently, though.”

Remus obeyed. He brushed carefully through the feathers, marveling at their soft golden-brown color. Even covered in oil and grime, they were beautiful. But after a few minutes, Janus frowned.

“Everything ok?” Remus asked. He was suddenly afraid he was brushing too hard, or hurting Janus somehow, even though Janus had given no indication that he was in pain.

“It’s just…” Janus sighed helplessly. “They’re so dirty.”

He looked almost on the edge of tears when he said it, which was enough to put Remus immediately into I will do anything for you mode. “Do you want to try the Dawn? One time Patton used it to wash a cat he found that was all grimed up and shit, and it worked real well.”

Janus seemed to consider it. He glanced over toward the door that led to the little private bathroom attached to the holding cell, then shook his head.

“There’s not enough space in there,” he said. “We’ll make a mess.”

“We can go downstairs,” Remus suggested. “There’s showers in the employee locker rooms. Plenty of space.”

Janus looked skeptical. “Is that allowed?”

It was, technically, not allowed. Janus had not been evaluated yet, and he wasn’t really allowed out of holding until he was. But… well, if they were quick, no one would notice. What was life without a little risk?

“Sure!” he said. “It’s fine.”

“...Okay. Sure.”

Grinning, Remus got to his feet and gathered all their supplies back into the bag. Then he beckoned for Janus to follow.

“Logan’s in meetings for most of the day, and Roman’s off on assignment,” he said. He eased open the cell door and peered out into the empty hall. “And Patton’s usually swamped with paperwork in the afternoons. Everyone else who works here is too scared of me to say anything.”

Janus didn’t question it. Remus led him down the hall and paused to make sure the stairwell was also empty before leading him down the two flights to the ground floor. Janus seemed nervous in the unfamiliar surroundings. He clung close to Remus, close enough that he almost ran into him at several points. Remus tried to give him reassuring smiles and the occasional word of encouragement.

There were voices in the break room, so they had to go around to get to the locker room. It was usually empty at this time, and today was no exception. Remus held the door open and ushered Janus inside.

“The showers are over here.” Remus pulled back the curtain and leaned in to turn on the water. “You a warm water person or a cold water person?”

“Warm,” Janus said quickly. “Please.”

As the water warmed up, Remus helped him to pull off his soft flannel shirt (one of many Remus had bought because the agency-provided shirts were those horrible starchy t-shirts and Janus had hated them.) Remus was amazed at how much healthier the scaled half of his face and body looked after just a week of proper meals and consistent rest.

“Are you sure this isn’t going to turn everything blue?” Janus asked when Remus passed him the bottle of Dawn. He still looked vaguely unconvinced about this whole thing.

“Nah, it won’t, don’t worry!”

Janus sighed. “Ok, but if it does, I shall never forgive you.”

“If I turn your wings blue, I’ll buy you so many blankets, they’ll fill up your whole room. Ready?”

“Well that makes me want my wings to turn blue,” Janus said. He followed Remus into the shower stall.

It took longer than Remus was expecting to wash out all the years of grime from Janus’ wings. It was especially difficult closer to the point where the wings met his back, because Janus couldn’t reach there on his own. Remus worked through those spots carefully, and it wasn’t until he was almost done that he realized Janus had gone silent.

“Hey, you good?”

“Mhmm.”

Remus leaned over to catch Janus’ eye, only to find his eyes were closed. There was a content look on his face.

“...did you fall asleep?”

“No.”

“You totally did!” Remus grinned. “You fell asleep standing up!”

Janus opened his eyes to glare at him, but the glare was tempered by the obvious half-dazed look of someone who had, in fact, just woken up.

“...Ok, maybe I did for a moment there,” Janus huffed. The glare became a pout. “It just feels nice.”

Remus let his grin soften into a smile. “Good. I’m glad.”

The sound of the locker room door opening and closing startled them both. Remus pulled back the curtain just enough to look out into the locker room- and he immediately came face-to-face with Virgil.

“Oh. ‘Sup, Virge.”

Virgil was eyeing him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… a smoothie?”

“That’s not… Remus, that’s not how that meme works. And you’re not even holding a smoothie.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Are you showering with your clothes on?”

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

Virgil’s eyes flicked toward the ground, then back up to Remus. “You realize I can see there’s someone in there with you, right?”

Remus also glanced downward. The curtain stopped about six inches off the ground. “Uh…”

“And I can also see the pile of feathers on the floor that you sure as fuck better not try and wash down the drain.”

“I’m not that dumb.”

Virgil sighed. “Hello, Janus.”

Janus hesitantly poked his head out from the other side of the curtain. “Hello.”

“The fuck are you guys doing?”

“We’re not having sex if that’s what you’re thinking,” Remus said. Janus made a choked sound and vanished back into the showers.

“There is no universe in which I was thinking that,” Virgil growled.

“No universe? Not even one?”

“What the fuck are you doing down here?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “If you must know, snake-bird here looked like a penguin in an oil spill. We’re washing his wings.” A pause. “Hey, since you’re here, wanna hand me a couple of towels? The big fluffy ones Patton hides.”

Virgil walked away grumbling, but by the time Remus had finished rinsing the soap out of Janus’ wings and shut off the water, Virgil was waiting outside with a stack of Patton’s fluffy light blue towels. Remus took one and wrapped Janus up in it.

“What’re you up to, Emo?” he asked as he took a second towel and started toweling off Janus’ dripping wings.

“Logan sent me to find you,” Virgil answered. He was watching the scene unfold in front of him with a look that Remus didn’t bother trying to decipher. “You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Probably ‘cause it’s sitting on my desk. What’s Teach need me for?”

“He wants to talk. Work stuff.”

“Oh.” Remus looked at Janus. “We should, uh. Probably get you back upstairs before he comes looking for me himself.”

Janus nodded. He gathered up the brushes and, after a moment of eyeing Virgil cautiously, reached over and snatched up one more of Patton’s fluffy towels and shoved it in the bag as well. At Virgil’s look of incredulity, there was nothing else for Remus to do but burst out laughing.

As it turned out, Logan would probably not have been upset over Janus’ field trip downstairs, because when Remus finally made it to his office, the first thing Logan said to him was, “Would you be opposed to letting Janus stay in your home?”

Because apparently, Logan had pulled some strings with his bosses to get Janus out of holding; he had argued that spending his time in a home environment- instead of a type of confinement similar to what he’d endured for a large portion of his life- would vastly improve his chances of passing the assessment. The higher-ups had agreed, with the stipulation that Janus be released into the care of one of Logan’s team.

“Of course he can come home with me,” Remus had said, almost automatically. It was a chance to get Janus out of the box he’d been stuck in all this time. There was nothing that could make him say no.

Janus had seemed hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to it. So the next day, they had packed up the mountain of pillows and blankets, the bag of brushes and stolen towels, the couple of books Logan had sent up to keep Janus occupied when Remus couldn’t, the snake plushie Virgil had apparently dropped off the night before, and the multicolored cake Patton and Roman had brought by for him that morning that was now half-eaten, and hauled it all over to Remus’ apartment. For a guy who’d been dragged out of hell with only the clothes on his back, Janus sure had a lot of shit to move.

Janus had balked at getting into a car, so Remus talked Patton and Roman into driving his stuff over for him, and then walked with Janus to the apartment. It wasn’t that far, and, Remus realized with a stab of guilt, it was probably the first time Janus had seen the sun in a long time. He kept pausing to close his eyes and tilt his head up toward the sunlight for a few moments at a time, before darting after Remus. Remus didn't stop him.

It slowed them down to the point that when they finally got to the apartment, Roman had let himself and Patton in, brought all of Janus’ stuff up, and then left. Which was just as well- Janus had met Roman only once, and had seemed oddly jumpy around him.

“So, yeah,” Remus said, after showing Janus around. “You can just grab anything you need. I don’t really keep anything fragile in here ‘cause I tend to break stuff, so don’t worry.”

It was odd, seeing Janus standing in the middle of his living room, with his wings- which after their scrubdown, actually had a soft golden sheen to them- folded carefully against his back. But he seemed relaxed in a way Remus hadn’t seen before. Logan was right.

That evening, Remus got Janus settled into the bedroom.

“Where will you sleep?” Janus asked tentatively as Remus dumped all of Janus’ blankets onto the bed.

“Huh? Oh, I’ll just be in the other room,” Remus replied. “I sleep on the couch half the time anyway, no big deal.”

“Oh.” was all Janus said. Remus made sure he was comfortable, and then went to pass out on the couch.

When he woke up sometime late in the night, he wasn’t quite sure what had woken him. Remus was, historically, a heavy sleeper. He’d once slept through a monsoon in a cheap tent. If he was tired enough, he could probably sleep through an earthquake.

He turned his head to squint out into the dark apartment, and could just make out that the bedroom door was ajar. Remus stood up to go check on Janus- and then promptly tripped over Janus.

Remus yelped, and collapsed into the blanket nest that had appeared on the ground next to the couch; Janus yelped, on account of being tripped over, and scrambled out from under his pile of blankets. They both stared at each other through the darkness for a moment, and then both spoke at once.

“Are you ok-”

“I’m sorry-”

They both paused, and then Remus laughed.

“Shit, J, almost gave me a heart attack there. You ok?”

Janus looked a little sheepish. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok. What’re you doing sleeping there, though?”

“Um…” Janus looked down at his hands where he was clutching the snake plushie. It was stupidly cute. “I couldn’t sleep, alone. I thought I’d sleep better… out here.”

Remus blinked at him, still half-asleep. And it was probably because he was still half-asleep that he said, “Do you want me to sleep in there with you?”

Janus, after a moment, nodded.

“Ok. I can do that, snake-bird. It’s ok.”

Remus helped Janus stand up, and they moved the blanket mound back into the bedroom. The rest of Janus’ blankets and pillows had been made into a nest wedged into the space between the bed and the wall. Remus smiled fondly.

“Didn’t like the bed, huh?”

“I feel safer on the floor,” Janus said, looking embarrassed. “I can… sense vibrations in the ground. I know if someone’s coming up to me.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Remus glanced between the nest and the bed, and shrugged. “I got the bed, then.”

He laid down, while Remus clamored over the bed to get to his nest and then promptly burrowed under the mountain of blankets. And as he was drifting off, Remus could have sworn he heard a soft sigh from Janus, of something that could, perhaps, be contentment.

Janus had never slept so well before. Tucked into the space between the bed and the wall, in a room so unlike the cement-walled cell he’d spent years calling home- and with the soft snoring of Remus, the man he had tentatively come to trust, nearby, Janus slept through the night. And the night after that, and the night after that.

So when he woke with a start the fourth night, it took him a few groggy minutes to piece together why he was awake. He was still curled up comfortably under his blankets. Remus was snoring away in the bed above him. And then the people in the kitchen took another step toward the bedroom, and the vibrations in the floor raced up to Janus’ body. He sat up in a panic.

“Remus,” he hissed. No response. He reached up and grabbed at Remus’ shoulder to try and shake him awake. “Remus!”

Remus grumbled something incomprehensible, and did not wake. Starting to feel frantic, Janus crawled up onto the bed and shook Remus harder. At the same moment that Remus’ eyes fluttered open, the doorknob turned.

“Janus?” Remus asked, voice rough with sleep. Then the door was flung open. Flashlight beams fell across them both as men poured into the small room. Janus turned, baring his teeth, and spread his wings to shield Remus behind him.

“Take him, alive,” one of the men ordered. Janus squinted through the harsh glare of their flashlights to pick out who was speaking. “Kill the other.”

No. Absolutely not.

Janus caught the leader’s eye and summoned his powers to him. The man tried to look away, but even in the gloom, Janus’ powers held him rooted to the spot.

“Sleep,” he snarled, forcing all of his power and will into the command. The man dropped to the floor.

In the seconds it took for him to wrest the leader’s consciousness away, the other men had fanned out around him. Janus whipped around to his left, but froze when he felt the cold muzzle of a gun touch the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice behind him sneered. A man to his right reached to grab him. There was a crack and a grunt of pain behind him, and the gun fell away- Remus appeared on his right and swung what looked like a crowbar. There was another sickening crack, and the man grabbing for Janus immediately collapsed in a heap.

The momentum of the swing propelled Remus up off the bed and into the next armed goon. They both fell backwards- Remus knocked his gun away, and as they hit the ground, a whack from the crowbar meant only Remus stood back up.

“Janus, get down!” he shouted suddenly. Janus turned- there was one man still standing, and he had his gun leveled at Janus’ chest. Janus froze. A gunshot rang out.

Janus felt himself hit his mound of blankets. Remus had shoved him off the bed. Hesitantly, he peered up over the edge.

Remus had bowled the man over onto his back amid the sheets and now sat on top of him, a hand grasping at the exposed skin of his neck. The man, rather than struggling against Remus’ grip, was clutching at his own chest. He convulsed, then fell still.

Janus put a hand on the ground. There were no more in the apartment. He climbed up onto the bed.

“Remus?”

No response. Janus hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder. At the same time, Remus slumped forward and slid to the ground.

“Remus!” Janus cried out in alarm. He vaulted over the bed and crouched down next to Remus. There was blood soaking his shirt.

“Remus, fuck. Why’d you do that?” Janus hissed. He gathered Remus up into his arms and tried to put pressure on the wound. Remus gazed up at him with glassy eyes.

“I promised,” he said weakly. Janus looked down at him.

“What did you promise?” he asked, probably sounding a little hysterical. Remus gave him a gentle smile.

“I promised they’d never touch you again.”

A neighbor had heard the gunshot and called the police, which was just as well, because Janus had no idea how to work Remus’ phone. The police had come and whisked Remus off to the hospital in an ambulance. Virgil came to take Janus back to the agency so that he wouldn’t be left alone in what had now become a crime scene. Janus made sure to bring his pale yellow blanket, the first one Remus had given him.

The investigation that followed revealed the intruders to be the extra names Logan had been searching for, and had returned to try and reclaim Janus before leaving town. With this, Logan could finally put the case to rest.

Remus was fine. When Janus was finally allowed to see him a few days later, he had just grinned and said, “Still not as bad as that time Virgil hit me with his truck.” Janus was not amused.

With the investigation closed, the agency could release Janus to be evaluated. Everyone gathered in Logan’s office to wait anxiously.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Roman said in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring tone. It did nothing to soothe Remus’ frayed nerves.

“Yeah, but what if something goes wrong, like they spook him or something-”

“If he can tolerate Princey randomly belting out Disney songs, he can tolerate anything,” Virgil scoffed. Roman glared. Patton stifled a giggle. Remus opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment, the door opened. Logan stepped into the office- behind him came Janus.

“...Well?” Remus asked impatiently. His eyes were fixed on Janus.

Janus glanced toward Logan. Logan gave a slight nod, and a smile spread across Janus’ face.

“I’m free to go.”

Remus sprang up and engulfed Janus in a hug. Janus clung to him tightly, and his tears of joy soaked Remus’ chest.

94 notes · View notes

sablesides-ask-blog · 3 years

Note

DID SOMEBODY SAY VIRGIL ANGST?? *Ahem* Can You Do “Nobody’s seen you in days.” With Prinxiety Please?

Gods how was he so stupid?.

It was only a matter of time before Janus got accepted.

Only a matter of time before he had to confront the facade he'd so masterfully crafted.

A facade that had worked so well even the Lord of the Lies believed it as a truth.

Virgil wasnt ready for that, Virgil would never be ready for that.

Well, they hadnt needed him last video, he only got in the way when Thomas had gone to the mall.

They wouldnt miss him, he could just stay in his room safe and sound and never have to confront anything ever again.

Tears were very salty, a lot more so than how they were usually described, almost bitter.

His were black, almost like he cried ink, Roman had always though of it as rather poetic.

He wished he'd never let Roman see him cry.

Wished he hadnt stopped insulting and berating him.

Wished they hadnt stopped arguing.

Wished they hadnt fallen in love. . .

It was a lot hard to sequester yourself in the abyssal depths of your room if you loved someone beyond it.

But Virgil would try, and he'd try as hard as possible.

Nothing was getting him out.

"Kiddo? I brought you breakfast. . ." Patton was the first routine visitor after the sides finally figured out where Virgil had been for the past week.

He'd heard them screaming about it the whole time, like chickens with their heads cut off.

Though he supposed headless chickens didnt scream.

"You can eat with us today if you want," Patton continued.

Virgil gave no response.

"Or you can eat it by yourself," Patton said, tone resigned and sad.

Vitgil waited until he heard footsteps, and for good measure sent some spiders out to check that he was really gone.

He heard both Patton and Roman scream as they fled.

Once he was sure they'd gone and hadnt brought anyone or anything else, he took the plate inside and shut the door, locking all three padlocks for good measure.

He didnt eat anything except the strawberry garnish on the toast.

He hadnt been hungry for days, and it wasnt like sides needed to eat, the only sides to get malnourished were the twins if Thomas was in a bad creative block, and even then they only looked it, they were never actually starving.

But still, no one took it as a good sign.

And if Virgil was honest the stench was starting to get to him.

But he didnt snap the trash bin away, he couldn't really, his magic was weaker by the day.

As Anxiety, his magic was tied to emotion.

And he hadn't felt anything but empty for weeks.

He heard another knock on the door.

"Virgil. . ."

Roman

His voice was hoarse and raspy, he'd been crying.

"Virgil nobody's seen you in days. . . I- We all miss you terribly so, please. . . Come back to us. . ." Roman whispered.

Virgil gave no response.

"At least let me take your trash out, I can smell it from out here,"

Virgil obliged and opened the door ever so slightly to remove the trashcan, not looking at Roman for even a second before slamming it back shut.

Roman let out a sigh, and went on his way.

It was a full month before Virgil got another visitor.

"Virgil."

Virgil froze as Janus' voice breached the door, his parent voice.

"I know why you're hiding," Janus continued.

Virgil raised his head off his pillow ever so slightly.

"I've tricked you into thinking you've tricked me, which simply isnt an accurate statement, I'm well aware of your fabrication and fantasy as a result of the perceived status quo on the light side," the floor creaked slightly as one of Virgil's feet slipped off the bed.

"We've abolished the differentiation within the mindscape, each side may come and go as he pleases, there is no need for worry about reputation,"

Virgil let out a slight hiss as he opened the door just a sliver, light catching in his eyes.

"You're not mad?" he said, feeling like a child who'd been caught adjusting his own report card.

"Never was," Janus replied, extending a hand. Vitgil took it, his own now feeling smaller than usual.

"VIRGIL!" Roman practically knocked the wind out of his boyfriend as Virgil and Janus rounded the corner.

"Oh Virgil it's been ages,I almost thought you'd shrivelled up like a prune and died in there!" Roman continued, barely letting Virgil open his mouth before sprinkling his face with kisses and locking their lips together.

"I- I'm sorry-" Virgil said, Roman's face went visibly gentler.

"You didnt do anything wrong, you were just afraid," he said, running a thumb along Virgil's cheek.

"Now come along, you need to eat something other than a garnish for once,"

"You're not going to baby me are you,"

"Dont push it,"

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

Tag list:

@nova-xx

@softestpatton

@meowthefluffy

@a-deceit-salad

@nerosdayinhell

@soupforfree

@willowaudreykeyes

@the-sad-strawberry

@sneaky-slytherin

@romano-hottopic

@virgiliciousspeaks

@ray-does-stuff

@idrawdumbstuffs

#cori answers #ts roman #ts virgil #ts sides #ts patton #ts janus #tw isolation #tw food refusal #tw fear #tw crying #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #familial anxceit

114 notes · View notes

sometimes-love-is-enough · 4 years

Note

re: your last ask about the time travel shenanigans—holy fuck yes please more of this. like, not only is it funny as hell, which i appreciate, but it's also a. more c!thomas and b. points to just how interestingly both the plot and characters of this series have grown over the years and i am ALL for it

"Janus!" is the first thing Thomas exclaims when he sees the Side Formerly Known Exclusively As Deceit rise up where Logan would usually stand. Which just might be a mistake, if Janus’s expression is anything to go by.

Okay, in Thomas's defence -

This is a really, really weird day, even by his standards. Because, like, Logan's currently standing in front of the stairs, and that's not where Logan's supposed to be, and his shirt and tie are all wrong. And had had been grinning. Openly. He had been openly grinning when Thomas had first woken up and looked in his wardrobe and realized that his favorite t-shirt apparently doesn't exist anymore and all his clothes are a half-size smaller than he's used to but also they still fit and - okay, no, back to Logan. He'd gone downstairs and tripped over a chair that wasn't supposed to be there and called out Logic. And he'd been about to ask him what's going on and why everything feels so off and also why Logan's standing in Virgil's usual spot instead of over to the right of the stairs. But then he'd noticed all the aforementioned Very Weird Clothing Things. And he'd stopped and said, "Uh, Logan?" and Logan's grin had dropped and he'd stared at Thomas for a full ten seconds then whispered, "what the fuck," with great emotion.

And then Patton had shown up with a ridiculous amount of pun-riddled cheerfulness that Thomas had been able to clock as sixty-percent fake within about half a second. And his clothes had been all wrong, too, and after a lot of confused, borderline-incomprehensible yelling at each other, Roman had showed up and added to the chaos.

"I am scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it!" Thomas had declared at some point, which had been the cue for an ominous music sting somewhere to Thomas's right that made everybody jolt in terrified unison.

"Did somebody say scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it?"

"Virgil, thank god!" Thomas had practically yelled, and just about thrown himself across the room to get to him - before pausing midway and allowing his brain to process... wrong hoodie. Wrong amount of eyeshadow. "Wait. No, hang on, is this - "

"FUCKING WHO," Virgil shrieked, leaping backwards half a flight of stairs, which had led to another round of confused yelling, with Thomas trying to assure them all that he's fine he hasn't had some sort of strange head injury or whatever, he's just really happy to see Virgil and no of course that's not weird, what do you mean who's Virgil, that's Virgil right over there, Roman please put down that sword things are already out of hand -

And at some point Thomas had got it into his head that the most reasonable course of events was to summon the one person who always seems to know everything that everybody else doesn't, which brings everything up to speed, more or less. Roman had gone, "Thomas, what are you doing," and Thomas, feeling slightly manic at this point, had said, "I'm trying to summon a demon, obviously," because the best way to get hold of a certain someone probably is blatant lying, and boom, instant Janus.

"Jeee-sus Christ on a cookie-shaped canoe, what is he doing here?!"

"Janus!"

So, Janus pops up, he looks literally the same as he always has (except maybe with shorter hair? Wait, they all have shorter hair, including Thomas, wait a second -) with his half-snake-face and his hat and gloves that cosy-looking capelet of his. And although his expression reflects faint bewilderment and that very particular 'wait, what' emotion that results in being pulled abruptly away from something you were busy with, he looks so normal that Thomas thinks for a moment he might be the only sane person left.

But then Janus makes a series of start-and-stop noises of incomprehension, and gestures wildly towards Virgil, who's crouched midway up on the stairs behind Logan, looking like a cornered wild animal, and snaps, "Why for the love of everything that's holy would you tell him my name?"

"You think this is me?" Virgil retorts, hands going up to grab desperately at the bars lining the side of the staircase. "I don't understand anything that's going on! He somehow knows my name! He's - he's being nice to me!"

It suddenly occurs to Thomas that this might just possibly be a time travel sort of thing. It would explain the clothes shift. And the altered layout of his house. And the fact that when he'd checked his phone this morning it had told him it was 2016, and also it hadn't been his phone, it had been the one he'd broken a few years ago in a tragic piano-moving-related accident.

...Okay, yeah, this is absolutely a time travel thing.

"Is somebody going to explain why Thomas ruined all of our heartfelt name reveal moments in one fell swoop?" Roman demands. "I thought we agreed we were going to do them gradually and draw them out as long as possible for dramatic effect!"

"I agreed to none of that," Virgil snaps from his position halfway up the stairs.

"Yes," says Logan, "yes, I think we all would like to know what's going on. Thomas? What's going on?"

"Uh - " Thomas, who has just come to a rather startling realization about time travel and also about how shitty his Sides' taste in costumes were pre-wardrobe change, doesn't really have a prepared answer for this. "I have... I am - I just - "

Thomas struggles for words. Really struggles. And everyone's just standing there, watching him with expressions that range from terror to confusion to suspicion, and they all look so weirdly young in a way that's hard to pin down. It's the clothes. It's probably the clothes, or maybe it's the way they hold themselves. Roman, carelessly confident, without a doubt in the world. Patton, still wearing a fixed dad-grin, politely baffled and looking back and forth. Logan, who hasn't been systematically beaten down and pushed back over the course of many, many years. Virgil, who's basically just a ball of grey-and-black anger and acerbic anger at this point. Janus, who's... Janus. Who's looking at him in a way that Janus has never looked at him before.

And Remus is probably lurking somewhere in the back of his mind, too, doing whatever Remus does, and - would Remus be any different now, four years prior? Thomas hadn't had any significant problems with intrusive thoughts, not back then... or, well, back now. Maybe he's calmer, maybe Thomas could actually talk with him. Try to work something out, try to understand.

But wait, he's still got to give the Sides right here and right now an answer.

Hm.

...Thomas has been through a lot in the past four years. Not, like, fantasy protagonist a lot, but more like a extended psychological journey of self-discovery and mental health crises. Now, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world, because he's learned a hell of a lot about himself in the process - but also? The Sides have put him through a lot of horrifying realization-type things.

Which is why he absolutely one hundred percent deserves to do what he's about to do next.

"I," says Thomas, with an extraordinary amount of confidence and self-assuredness, "am psychic."

And the dead silence holds. Now even Patton is staring at him in disbelief. Janus has graduated into outright horror, his face twisted up into a oh god no I am somehow responsible for letting him delude himself this far expression.

"Thomas!" Roman gasps, almost instantly lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "Oh, Thomas, I'm so proud, we've been working on this for years. Tell me, does this extend to telekinesis, or just somehow knowing all our names and nothing else?"

"What?" Janus says. "What - no. No, you can't seriously be going along with this - what? That... what? That doesn't even make any sense?" He turns wildly from left to right, and - okay, it's very enjoyable to see him out of his depth, to be perfectly honest. Thomas likes Janus a lot, knows he has his best interests at heart, but the whole courtroom thing had been a major dick move. This is satisfying. "Are any of you getting this? Does anyone here understand what's going on?"

"I'm psychic," Thomas repeats doggedly. "I acquired magical psychic powers and now I know all of your names and tragic backstories. Surprise! I unlocked my full potential and the ninety-percent of my brain power that I wasn't using."

"That's - that's a widely-perpetuated and wildly incorrect myth," Logan says weakly.

"Nope. Turns out it's true, and I was only using ten percent of it, and now that I've gone full big-brain, I know that Patton's repressing all his bad feelings because he doesn't want to bother anyone with them, Virgil acts all scary and menacing because he thinks it's the only way that I'll ever listen to him, and Janus is secretly a huge dork with a heart of gold - uh, yellow, I guess."

"How dare you," Janus breathes, looking horrified.

"Wha - " Patton suddenly looks very pale indeed.

"Also, Roman, you're my hero; Logan, please never stop smiling like that ever again, it's literally my favorite thing in the world and if you ever stop being enthusiastic about teaching me things I will cry - and Virgil, I love you."

Virgil lets out a choked little noise like he's just been punched directly in the stomach.

"I love all of you," Thomas adds, an afterthought. "I never say that enough. Janus, that goes for you as well. You're right, I need to take care of myself more."

"I'm - " Janus is still looking around at everyone in complete disbelief, but now his gaze fixes onto Thomas, his eyes wide. "I'm what?"

Thomas is now on a roll. An extremely cathartic sort of roll. "And Remus -"

Everybody immediately panics. Virgil and Logan's hands both immediately leap up to clasp over their mouths, which seems to be a reflexive reaction on Janus's behalf. Patton lets out a deranged-sounding high pitched giggle that edges into genuine hysteria.

"Brother? What brother? I don't know what a brother is!" Roman says loudly. "I've never had a brother in my life! Thomas, your glorious psychic powers are malfunctioning. Have you tried turning them off and turning them on again?"

" - I'm not going to lie and say I love him, but -" Thomas stops abruptly, and staggers backwards to catch himself on the couch as a thought strikes him out of literally nowhere. "Son of a bitch -"

"Does being psychic make you swear a lot?" Patton asks weakly. "Because, uh. Not sure I like this side of you, kiddo - "

"Logan," says Thomas. "Logan, what's the date today? This is so, so important, what's the date."

"It's... October," Logan says, very slowly. "October twentieth. 2016?"

"Holy shit," Thomas whispers, and then says it louder, "holy shit. Okay, listen. I was going to sort out all of our collective psychological issues in one impressive emotional speedrun, but I've realized we have something much more important to do." He pauses, and takes in a very deep, shuddering breath. "Guys. We can save Vine. Excuse me. I've just realized I’ve got to make a lot of calls."

#storytime #timeswap au #asks #please note that everything in my storytime tag is (by definition) rushed and unedited content and this is no exception #that being said. enjoy.#character!thomas #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #sad to announce that remus is once again not here :(#Anonymous

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alex-ruins-everything · 3 years

Text

The Witch Lives Across the Street

Inspired by this post of mine that lived in my head rent free so I wrote it.

Pairings: Prinxiety

Words: 1421

Virgil was used to knocking on his door all the time. He hated it, but he supposed it was what happened when you lived next to a witch but fit the gothic aesthetic much better than the actual witch. The house across the street was white with red shutters and a red door. There was no sign or anything saying that a witch lived in the house, nothing odd at all about the house. There was even a garden. Virgil’s house on the other hand was very different. Black with purple shutters and no garden in sight. Even the bushes the house had come with were wilted and brown along the walkway to the front door and the iron gate was rusting. The constantly drawn curtains added to the mystery that apparently made everyone think he was the witch of the area.

So he’d get knocks on the door, begrudgingly answer it and tell the person, “No, the witch lives across the street.” He had seen the witch in question a few times, always wearing some combination of white, red, and gold. Virgil had never bothered to meet his neighbor up close, though. A few weeks ago another car had shown up in the driveway next to the red one that usually resided there. Green, it made Virgil think of Christmas when it was put next to all of the red. He started noticing someone else lurking around the witch’s house, this new neighbor spent a lot of time outside in the garden and suddenly when people knocked on his door they asked about witches instead of one witch.

Virgil was currently in his kitchen feeding his cat when the knock hit the door. Another one of the witches’ clients he guessed, considering no one really came to visit him, it wasn’t too far fetched of a guess. He moved to the door, grumbling a little as he opened it.

“The witches live across the street,” he said, blinking at the person on the other side as gay panic hit his mind for a moment.

This man was easily the most beautiful person Virgil had ever seen. Tall and broad shouldered with swoopy brown hair and the most gorgeous brown eyes. He was wearing a white shirt with the top three buttons undone and a red sash tied around his waist. Layers of gold jewelry matched the gold eyeliner that sat atop deep red eyeshadow.

“Actually, the witch is indeed here this time,” the man said, flashing a dazzling smile.

“Uhm-” Virgil said, trying to get his brain started again.

“I figured it was about time I came and introduced myself. Three years of you deferring my customers, I should have done it sooner. I’m Roman,” the man - Roman - said, holding his hand out. “Virgil, right?”

“How did you-?” Virgil asked, shaking the witch’s hand.

“Not magic this time,” Roman said with a small laugh that sounded like bells. “I get your mail by accident sometimes, I always just stick it in your mailbox. Seems nobody can get our houses right.”

“Right...thank you.”

“Actually, my brother and I were just about to have some tea. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“Your brother?”

“He’s been staying with me, seems two witches are much more popular than one,” Roman answered, smiling at Virgil again. “So. Tea?”

“Uhm...yeah. I can do tea,” Virgil nodded.

Roman gave another one of his dazzling smiles, taking Virgil by the hand and leading him across the street. The other man - the one Virgil had noticed more recently - was outside digging in the garden. He was covered in dirt, wearing a tanktop that showed off various symbols tattooed onto his arms.

“This is Virgil!” Roman introduced. “He’s joining us for tea. Virgil, this is Remus. My twin brother.”

“Virgil?” Remus asked, looking Virgil up and down.

Virgil squirmed a little, feeling like he was under a microscope, but upon his own inspection, he could see the similarities between the brothers. If you looked past the mustache, the streak of white hair, and the dark gaudy eyeshadow, Remus and Roman were identical.

“Virgil, are you a witch?” Remus asked, tilting his head a little bit.

“No, the witch lives across the street,” Virgil replied, same as he always did.

“Get cleaned up, Remus. I won’t guarantee that we’ll save you any cakes,” Roman said, pulling Virgil inside.

The inside of the house matched Roman, all red and gold with hints of white. It smelled like cinnamon and cloves and-

“You have a lot of plants…” Virgil observed.

“Oh, yes. Remus tends to like them. I wouldn’t touch, though. I never really know what he’s growing,” Roman chuckled, pulling out a teapot and a few different jars of herbs.

Virgil watched as he added the herbs to the pot, seeming to know what he was doing. He poured in cold water and with a wave of his hand, the pot was steaming like it had been boiling all along.

“Magic,” Roman winked. “Come, you can sit in the living room. I’ll bring the cakes, you simply have to try them, they’re delicious.”

Virgil couldn’t do much more than nod. Roman directed him to the living room where two couches sat on either side of a coffee table, obviously where Roman took his clients. Remus came in, mostly dirt free and holding a plant clipping in a small jar that he set by the window.

“Are you sure you aren’t a witch?” he asked Virgil, plopping down on the couch across from him. “You have a very bright aura.”

“First of all, I don’t have a bright anything,” Virgil replied. “And secondly, I think I would know if I was a witch.”

“Not necessarily,” Roman said, setting a tray on the table that held the teapot as well as some sugar and cream. “Lots of natural born witches go their whole lives without knowing.” “Yeah, but that isn’t me,” Virgil said, watching as Roman left and came back with a small plate tower of cakes and tiny tea sandwiches.

“You have to try the lavender cake with the lemon glaze,” Roman said, distributing small plates and starting to pour tea into teacups. “Anything in yours?”

Virgil shook his head, content to drink whatever tea it was plain. It smelled good, much better than any tea he had had before. He waited until his hosts had their cups and had sipped some before trying it.

“Oh...this is really good…” he said, having another sip.

“Thank you, thank you,” Roman said. “It’s a special blend of herbs and a little spellwork.”

“You sound creepy when you try and give random guys magic drinks,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Virgil isn’t a random guy! He’s been my neighbor for three years!”

“And yet you only first spoke to him today because somebody was intimidated by the cute boy who lives across the street. It took you losing a bet to get the balls to go talk to hi- mmph!” Remus couldn’t finish his statement as Roman slapped a hand over his mouth.

“You were intimidated by me?” Virgil asked, shocked. “You’re literally a witch. I just saw you boil water with a wave of your hand. If you told me you studied at Hogwarts I wouldn't be shocked.”

Roman seemed to blush a little bit at the compliments, shaking his head. “No Hogwarts,” he said. “But of course I was slightly intimidated. You’re very mysterious, you know.”

“Me?”

“Yes! You live all alone in that big dark house and you hardly come outside which makes it very hard to snoop on the cute boy across the street.”

Now it was Virgil’s turn to blush a little bit. “You’re literally a witch,” he reminded.

“Oh my god you two are super hopeless,” Remus rolled his eyes. “Roman, just ask him out already.”

“Shut up,” Roman said, throwing a bite of cake at his brother before smiling at Virgil. “But I would like to get to know you better. Perhaps we can go to dinner some time, I can make up for all those times you had to answer the door for me.”

Virgil would have to be a complete idiot to say no. A gorgeous man in red and gold wanted to go on a date with him? And dinner didn’t sound too bad either.

“Okay…” he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Tomorrow night perhaps?”

“Tomorrow night works,” Virgil said. “You do know where to find me.”

“Of course. The cute boy lives across the street.”

#alex-writes-everything #sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders

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caffeinated-cryptid · 3 years

Text

ashes, ashes.

10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.

““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””

(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)

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

Case 1: the man in the alley.

The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.

As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys.

His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.

If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.

Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.

...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.

It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.

“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.

Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.

“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought.

“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”

What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.

“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.

“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.

“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”

Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.

“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”

The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”

Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”

Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.

He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.

Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.

“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”

Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?

But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.

His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.

As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.

Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.

Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.

In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.

“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.

Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected.

“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.

The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”

"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second.

Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."

"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.

"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.

"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…"

His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.

"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"

Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real."

"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.

"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.”

That did make Remus feel better, actually.

"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"

Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"

"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."

Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.

"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey.

"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"

Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."

Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”

“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.

“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.

“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”

Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”

“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”

Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.”

“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.

“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”

Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.

“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.

“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”

“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”

Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”

Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.

“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.

Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”

And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.

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

Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.

The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.

When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning.

He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.

After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.

As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself.

But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly.

Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.

People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.

...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?

He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.

Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.

She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.

“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”

“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”

Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”

Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”

Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ‘reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.

Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”

Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.

“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”

James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.

“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.

“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”

“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”

The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.

“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”

With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.

Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.

Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.

“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”

He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.

“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.

“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”

For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”

“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”

That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”

Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”

“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.

Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”

He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”

Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.

“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.

“You could cheat death, for starters.”

“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.”

Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.

“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.

“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.

“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”

“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.

“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”

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

Case 3: the woman in the streets.

The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.

In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.

Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.

They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.

He didn’t deal with it well.

The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was.

He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.

Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road.

“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.

With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.

“Oh…”

And then he turned on his heel and threw up.

Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?

He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.

“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,

“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”

Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.

“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.

“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”

“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”

“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”

“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”

Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”

“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully.

“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”

Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”

“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”

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

Case 4: the bad doctor.

The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.

Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons.

Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.

Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).

Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.

After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.

But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.

Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence.

Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.

The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following.

"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.

"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.

"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."

Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too.

Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."

...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.

"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.

"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.

"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."

Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor.

"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course."

"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead.

"Sounds good, doc." Remus said.

"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.

"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”

At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor.

“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.

“REMUS!”

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

Case 4.5: the dead doctor.

The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.

Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.

Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man.

After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.

After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.

As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer.

The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.

After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”

Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.

“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”

“Really Remus? I just got ready.”

“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”

He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.

“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Bye, ugly.”

“Later, Rat Bastard.”

“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex.

It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.

Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.

“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”

“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”

He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”

Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”

“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.

“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”

Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”

Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”

The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once."

"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"

The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know."

"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."

"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.

Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?"

"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"

"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"

Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."

"Remus, you have to get out! Now!"

"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-

"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call."

Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-

Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary.

"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."

If he didnt-

"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him.

Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs.

Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist.

"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out.

Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.

"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body.

"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused.

"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."

"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.

Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails."

Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"

"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul.

"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space.

"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.

"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.

Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."

"Of course, pinky promise~."

"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."

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

Case 5: the one who tried to get away.

The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.

It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up.

Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)

It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people.

But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.

"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."

"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.

"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.

Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."

Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"

"...Huh?"

"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"

"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow.

"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb?

"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.

"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.

"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."

"Clearly…"

A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.

That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.

Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.

A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-

Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off.

He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.

He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.

He'd just have to do something about this himself.

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”

“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”

“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.

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

Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.

And then shortly after;

“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.

Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”

“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!”

Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”

His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up there-”

Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.

“Whoopsie daisy.”

He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.

“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”

As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.

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

Case 8: the innocent.

And then:

Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.

He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.

Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”

Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”

Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.”

”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.

”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”

“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”

“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.

“Exactly. The life.”

That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.

“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”

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

Case 11: the matchbox.

Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside.

They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.

Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)

“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.

“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.

For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.

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

Case 13: the one with bad luck.

He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.

“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”

“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."

Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself.

“Anyone nearby?” He checked.

“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.”

“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.

Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, you should see the other guy.”

That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”

“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”

“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."

Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.

"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it."

The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."

Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.

"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."

”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.

“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”

Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.

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

Case 0: the one who death followed.

It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.

In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).

All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.

And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game.

(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)

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

Writing taglist: @just-perhaps @sashootkahoot @anxious-l0ser @illogical-immunity @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @whisperinginthevoid @and-this-sword @creamiiteaa-xx

Deityfucker au taglist: @arodynamic-enby @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @overlad-of-the-snakes @aromanticwhore @haha-phrog @hetalianhufflepuff @emeryyleaf @winter-wandering @gaylotusthatexists @8bituin

#my writing #sanders sides #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #(others are mentioned)#deityfucker au #death tw #violence tw #crime tw #weapon tw #swearing tw #injury tw #(lots of warnings for this one. take care!)

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shimmershae · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on Episode 5--Out of the Ashes.

Okay, though. I’m already excited about this one because Carol and Lydia are on the little guide picture thingy, lol. My girls.

As usual, I’m going to put the rest underneath a cut to save you lovelies potentially being spoiled should you not want to be.

Wow. Look at that full moon. And the colors in the woods.

I’m telling you. These cold opening scenes have been generally pretty awesome this season.

Aaron with Gracie always gives us such sweetness but this time maybe not.

Omigosh. Now *that* is a nightmare--the Walkers, the Wolves, the Saviors, the Whisperers, Mays. Did I miss anybody? And then Gracie gone just like that? Poor Aaron. All he wants is to keep his little girl safe and happy.

So. Is Gracie sleeping right next to her daddy because she had a nightmare or because her daddy’s been having them? Because either way, oh my freaking heart. Especially at her still sleeping with her stuffed bunny. I’m really, really hoping that bunny isn’t a bad omen of sorts for our Gracie, because little girls with bunnies haven’t fared all that well--going all the way back to the first episode and as recently as the subway episode where Daryl found that picture of the two siblings after they’d already found the bunny from the picture amongst the bodies. Please not Gracie. Aaron has already been through so much.

Are they all just communing together now? Because I can see how that would harken back to Season 4.

Jerry! Not even 3 minutes in and already two of my faves are present. I can tell this is going to be a good episode.

That really sucks. Not even being able to take a peaceful piss because you can see Walkers shambling past your window, lol.

There goes my queen running straight at danger as real queens are apt to do. ;)

Were there always lights coming on in the windmill during the opening credits or is that a new thing for this episode?

That orientation video was so surreal. Had to laugh at the political touch of having “this message is approved by Pamela Milton” at the end.

Okay. So they’re getting their work assignments, huh? Orientations are the worst, lol. All that damn paperwork.

Retail clerk--Princess being excited at the prospect of working in a mall, even having a mall again, has me LMAO even as I’m like girl. No. You’ll love it ‘til you hate it.

I didn’t catch Eugene’s job. But Ezekiel doing animal control kind of cracks me up. For reasons.

So. Essentially Eugene and Princess and Ezekiel got blue collar jobs while Yumiko’s got an invitation to join the upper crust.

I love Lydia being accepted as part of the community. About damn time.

For a second I thought Rosita said what’s left of the horses plural and I was fixin’ to go OH NO.

This is where I’m at on the Maggie/Negan issue, for better or worse: Maggie absolutely, IMHO, has earned the right to stay mad at Negan for the rest of her days. Because Glenn. Because her little boy was robbed of his daddy. That said? I don’t think I have it in me to watch 5 more episodes of this beaten horse antagonistic conversation much less a whole season. It would be one thing if it hadn’t already stolen valuable and earned screen time from other characters that seem to have been pushed to the periphery to spotlight it like it was the marquee event or something. I don’t want want 2/3′s of the final season so heavily focused on the conflict between these two when there are so many characters that are already woefully underutilized. It’s only compelling if it doesn’t become commonplace.

It’s a sad business having to put down people you know, I’d expect. Funny, though. We never knew them so the impact is kind of artificial. I appreciate the intent of the scene, though.

Where the hell are all the Walkers coming from? Like, I thought most of them went skydiving off that cliff without parachutes.

Judith training the other babies. If only her parents--every damn one of them--could see her now.

Gus! How cool and awesome for him!

ASZ is just full of asshole teens isn’t it? How dare that little dipshit push our Asskicker down like that and say such hateful things? To be fair, though, the kid is probably just repeating what he’s heard from others and I’m glad they’re being realistic here even if I don’t like seeing Judith cry.

Cailey Fleming’s expressive face and eyes! This kid has my heart, ya’ll.

That perfectly pretty cake wasted! LMAO. Seriously though. How does a cardiothoracic surgeon end up assigned to work in the bakery? Yumiko’s reunion with her brother Tomi honestly was on par with what I’d expect from someone seeing the sister they’d long given up as dead.

Freaky still how the Whisperers choose to herd the dead even without Beta and Alpha.

Was that the real Stephanie in the scene with the ice cream? Right under Eugene’s nose while he’s with Fake Stephanie? They have a connection, ya’ll. Eugene felt it.

Okay, though. I wanted the kids having their first ice cream cones. If I were Eugene, though, I probably would have inhaled that thing after being deprived for so long.

The Milton Hotel? Alrighty then. Somebody feels self-important.

Aww. Eugene’s thinking of Rosita and Coco. They really have evolved into such a sweet, good friendship and I miss them together.

Literally, I love Princess more each time I see her and hear her open her hilarious mouth. LOL at her with the ice cream cone.

Is everybody in ASZ staying in the same damn house? Whoever broke the board with Carl’s and Judith’s handprints on it needs an ass kicking.

“Me, too.” Welp. Guess RJ’s already met his line quota per appearance 24 minutes in, LOL.

Aww. My heart. A Rosita/Judith scene. I’m already loving it but not gonna lie. Who do we have topay to get a Carol/Judith scene because she’s been there since Judith was an embryo?

“Now it’s broken. He’s gone. Everybody is.” The way this scene is unexpectedly gutting me right now. Because Rosita’s right. It never really gets easier. It’s just something you figure out how to carry. How many people devastated by Covid or other illness or tragedy are carrying these same feelings of loss and hurt everyday?

Give us more of those heartfelt moments, dammit. This girl at least craves them. Not the endless Maggie/Negan conflict.

Ouch. “I think I haven’t met a Whisperer who wasn’t a liar.” Damn Aaron. Lydia’s right there beside you.

Angry Jerry hurts my heart in ways I cannot explain.

On a completely shallow note, Miko’s brother is attractive too. I quite like his accent, lol. I wonder why he’s so hesitant to put his skills as a surgeon to use.

“Want some cake?”/”Hell, yes.” Yumiko=me 99% of the time. LOL. Just kidding. In reality, I have to say no.

“They clearly got a gym in this joint. Your chiseling is perfecto.” LMAO. I’m all for Princess/Mercer. She flusters him a little and I’m loving it. When she told him he had beautiful eyelashes, I howled.

Oh my sweet Aaron. I’m in the same kind of pain and disbelief as Lydia watching you interrogate that Whisperer.

Thank you, Carol. Melissa McBride? I effing LOVE you. My heart hurts.

I’m sure she’s gonna get hate from the usual crowd while they cheer Aaron further along his dark and desperate path. Yes. Ya’ll are *that* predictable.

But Maggie, though? How long you gonna wait? Because you gonna be waiting on Daryl’s ass a long time.

“Cheesy video guy.” LOL. Leave it to Princess. Somehow that Lance dude looks even cheesier in RL.

By the screaming cave? What the hell is the screaming cave?

Ohh. Next episode actually looks interesting. Thank goodness it’s not a bottle episode strictly focusing on Virgil/Connie though because no matter how much I like Connie/Lauren? I don’t think whatever story she’s stuck in with Virgil is enough to keep me riveted to the tv.

Overall impression of this episode--again, I enjoyed it. Aaron’s dream was dark AF. Hell. Aaron was dark AF in this episode. Ross Marquand did some really strong work and I’m glad he finally got a moment to shine even though I hate seeing him leaning into the darkness instead of his inherent goodness. Judith and Rosita’s scenes were touching. Carol/Melissa made me bawl in the span of two minutes. That’s why she’s the MVP of this show, lovelies. She does so very much with so little. I’m just glad we didn’t have to see Leah and her band of bitchass brothers this episode.

I’m going to miss this show when it’s gone. At least I’ll have the Carol and Daryl spinoff off to ease my heartache.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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not-safeforsanders · 4 years

Text

Thunderstorm

Prompt: 26. “Make my muse whimper”

Ship: Analogical

Plot: Virgil discovers Logan is incredibly sensitive, but missing physical touch for a few months will do that to a person.

(A/N: I really love my touch-starved Logan content huh? Am I projecting? Yes. Do I care? No. Do I really need a hug? Absolutely)

Word Count: 2894

It’s one of those nights. Or mornings, rather, considering they've passed midnight into the very early hours of a half-asleep world. The rain is drizzling in the mid-autumn weather and the quiet is only breached by the sounds of young men, some students, some doing everything they can to avoid education, and some wondering how they got to this place in their life; they shout and talk loudly, most drunk, tripping over each other’s feet and shoving each other playfully.

At the back of this group, is Virgil and Logan, watching with amused expressions as their friends goof around in the middle of the road. Neither of them speak, they just shake their heads with fond smiles and walk behind the rowdy group. “Hey Logan! V!” The two twins at the front turn on their heels to face the men at the back. “We’ll see you next week, yeah?”

“Sure,” Virgil smiles, wondering when his friends had gotten so loud, or tall. Seems like just yesterday they were all kids, with so very few worries. Although right now they don’t seem to have any worries at all.

When they reach the crossroads, Virgil and Logan say goodbye to their group of friends and they all stray in different directions. The alcohol is starting to wear off in the cool air and the drizzle of rain, and Logan looks a little tired too. “Enough social interaction for the week?” Virgil asks, pushing his purple hair out of his eyes.

“I’m sure they get louder by the week,” Logan replies, sliding his glasses off of his face and putting them in the pocket, the droplets of rain irritating him. “Or they were always that loud and I was used to not listening to them.”

“I wish I could not listen sometimes, I have a migraine just from Roman and Remus bickering.” The two laugh, as the rain starts to come down a little heavier. “Looks like there’s going to be a storm tonight.” He hums quietly, the rain catching on his eyeliner, he likes thunderstorms; he likes the flash of lightning, the rumble of thunder, the way the rain bounces off the pavement. Logan does not look quite as happy with that development.

The two of them file into their apartment block, peeling off their coats as they wait for the elevator. “You look like a drowned rat,” Virgil comments, Logan’s black curls are sticking to his forehead and the sides of his face, his shakes his hair like a dog, scrunching his nose in distaste and shivers as his shirt sticks to his skin.

“Your eyeliner is running.” The other man replies simply, raising his eyebrow. His flatmate sticks his tongue out in retaliation, and they both wander into the elevator as it pings it’s arrival.

The ride up is silent, both of them a little tired, they walk through familiar hallways before opening their flat door, and it’s then the first rumble of thunder is heard. Logan inhales sharply, his knuckles turning white as he grips his coat so hard. His friend looks up at him, worried.

“Are you going to be alright Logan?” He gets a nod in response, but the lack of speech tells Virgil everything he needs to hear. “Let’s get changed, have a cup of tea, we can watch a film together yeah, until you can fall asleep.” He squeezes Logan’s arm and he doesn’t miss the way the other man startles a little at the touch, but he brushes it off, figuring Logan will talk about the things he wants too.

They both get changed in their own rooms, and Virgil boils the kettle while towel drying his long hair, it knots and tangles but he can only half care. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s version of Virgil, tonight he just cares about it not being wet. Logan emerges a little while later, wearing shorts and a long-sleeved, baggy baseball shirt; he looks tired, his eyes exhausted as he yawns. The other man smiles at him comfortingly, as another rumble of thunder startles his eyes wide. Logan’s always been scared of thunder, or at least since Virgil has known him, something about sudden loud noises just terrifies Logan.

But that’s okay, they’re all scared of something somewhere along the lines.

He places two hot cups of tea and honey down on the coffee table. “I brought my blanket in so we can stay warm.” The two sit down next to each other, Logan’s knees brought to his chest as he stares at the Netflix home screen, waiting for the browse menu to open. “I was thinking we could watch like an anime or something, something relaxing anyway…” The other man nods in reply, his arms folded on his knees with the blanket pulled over them; he looks cute, soft. But he also looks a little scared and it makes Virgil’s heart feel all wrong, he doesn’t want his best friend to feel scared ever.

He puts on a cute little film that seems to be about cats and people...or people turning into cats? It looks cute whatever it is. His feet brush against Logan’s and the other man tenses a little, before exhaling and leaning into the touch. “Would you like to cuddle?” Virgil asks, noticing that Logan still looked cold. There’s hesitance, before Logan shuffles closer and leans his head on Virgil’s shoulder, his body curled up beside him.

Virgil feels his heart physically melt in his chest. It’d been so long since they’d cuddled, and if he’s honest he’d thought perhaps Logan had just outgrown the want or need for cuddles and hugs and the like. He wraps his arm around his shoulders and he hears the dark-haired man make a small noise, but he can’t tell if it’s of discomfort or not until he nuzzles his head against Virgil’s shoulder and sinks into the touch, relaxing. “Logan when was the last time you had a hug?” A shrug. “A month? Two?” he furrowed his eyebrows. Now that he thinks about it, he’s never seen Logan bring somebody home but that doesn’t mean he hasn't, it just means Virgil hadn’t been there.

“You were the last person to hug me,” Logan mutters, finally.

He tries to run the past few months of their life in his own memory. But that was… “Logan that was nearly a year ago!”

“Yes.” He says it simply. Like it doesn’t matter. But the hard gaze in his eyes shows that it does, scrutinising the TV far more than needed. Thunder rumbles outside and then there’s a flash of lightning, Logan’s eyes screw shut. “I didn’t know how to ask.”

“You just ask, Lo, it’s not...I’m not ever going to say no,” Logan’s eyes open again and he looks up at him, his nose brushing against Virgil’s cheek, he pulls back a little, the closeness unsettling him. “Logan you’re a human person you can get touch starved without stuff like hugs.” he sighs and shakes his head “have you just been...completely alone?”

“I didn’t think I needed it,” he looks upset, like he’s in trouble or has done something wrong. “Then I just didn’t know how to ask, I knew that I was touch starved, I felt cold all the time even when it was warm but I just...I didn’t know how to ask.”

“Just say ‘hey Virgil, can I have a hug?’”

“Can I have a hug?” Logan asks. Virgil shuffles around to face Logan on the couch, the blankets fall away a little bit. He pats his lap, Logan blinks before he shuffles forward,sitting between Virgil’s legs, his own on either side of Virgil’s waist. The purple-haired man wraps his arms around Logan’s waist before lifting him up into his lap, Logan squeaks a little, his arms wrapping around his friend’s neck as he buries his face into his neck. They pull the blankets back around them as best they can, and Logan shivers as he sinks into the touch again, his whole body suddenly feeling like it’s burning. Thunder cracks outside and he jumps a little, his hands gripping the back of the other man’s shirt with a deep breath in.

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to need things Logan, you’re allowed to be scared, you’re allowed to be lonely, it’s okay, it’s human.” Virgil presses a gentle kiss to the side of his head and Logan whimpers softly, overwhelmed.

He’s shaking but he doesn’t really realise it at first, until Virgil starts rubbing his back and the feeling makes his stomach erupt with butterflies. “Thank you,” he mutters, leaning back a little to look at Virgil. “Thank you for understanding, for never making fun of me.”

“I have no room to make fun of you Lo, one of us is a mess and it isn’t you.”

“It feels like me right now,” he sighs, his fingertips drifting against the back of Virgil’s neck, the feeling of skin underneath his own something he’s not felt in so long.

“Yeah well, you get at least three nights a year to have a breakdown, at least.” They both smile at each other then, eyes studying each other’s expressions. The smile stops being amused and becomes more fond, a hand slides from Logan’s back to brush a still-damp curl out of his glasses so he can see a little better. Virgil does not miss the blush on the other’s cheeks.

He leans up to kiss his cheek, that was the plan, but Logan tilts his head and catches his lips in his own chastely. “Sorry,” he blurts out immediately. Virgil leans up to kiss him again, just as gently, just as quickly.

“So if it’s been nearly a year since you last had a hug, Logan, when was the last time you were kissed?” Logan flushes red.

“Two years.”

“How are you still breathing?” Virgil muttered “I’d have lost my mind by now.” Logan shrugs with a sheepish smile. “What about...everything else?” It takes the other man a moment to register the question, squirming a little in the other’s lap as he looks away from the gaze. “Lo?” he’s teasing him, he can see the grin, Logan huffs a little.

“Three,”

“Three years?”

“Yes.” Virgil blinks up at him, seemingly astounded as he shakes his head.

“I would’ve actually died, I feel like if I don’t have sex at least once every two weeks I cease to exist,” he laughs softly, but there’s no mockery in the tone, so Logan relaxes a little, finally meeting his eyes. “There again I am a bit of a slut.”

“You’re not a slut, there’s no such thing.” Logan mutters defensively “I just don’t really see the point in having sex if it’s not with someone I actually like,” he looks a little tired as he speaks, Virgil’s hand comes up to rub his back again, watching the other man’s eyes close at the touch, his body relaxing every single time that he’s touched. The thunder rumbles again, Logan’s jaw clenches, but it sounds like it’s getting further away now thank the heavens. “That’s alright Lo, I’m just teasing you,” Logan sighs a little, nodding.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks. “I liked that,” Virgil nods and tilts his head up towards the other man, who leans down to kiss him, this time their lips part after a second, moving slowly. It’s been so long since Logan had kissed someone, but it’s all so instinctual that he barely thinks about it. His body feels warm though, even though the covers are slipping away again, he can feel virgil’s body underneath his own and it feels like...home. Like comfort. Like the thunderstorm doesn’t matter, or the film playing in the background, just Virgil’s hands now resting on his hips, or their lips.

All that anxiety eases away, he doesn’t hear the next rumble of thunder in the distance, he’s too wrapped up in the brush of the other man’s tongue against his own and the way it makes him shiver. Virgil’s hand rests on his thigh just for a second and it elicits a quiet gasp between their lips; Logan catches the other’s smile in the kiss at his response even though it makes his cheeks feel hot with some mild form of embarrassment. He’s just missed his body being touched, that’s all, he supposes it’s normal to feel sensitive when you’re touch starved.

Virgil’s hand slips up the back of his shirt, tracing up his spine with his fingertips, Logan can’t stop the quiet moan that pushes out of him, followed by Virgil biting lightly at his bottom lip.

They both pull away, catching their breath. Logan looks...like a hot mess. His breathing deep as his dark eyes stare, blinking rapidly, down at Virgil. His skin’s all flushed, but the other man can’t tell if it’s from the kissing or the fact his hands retreat from around the other’s neck to tug his shirt down over his thighs a little, suddenly avoiding his gaze. The smaller man chuckles a little, his hands finding Logan’s. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he muttered. “It’s normal Lo,” He leans up to kiss him again, one hand wrapping around the other’s waist and tugging him closer. “The real question is do you want me to do anything about it?” he whispers against his lips. Logan makes a small noise of surprise, before nodding mutely, seemingly stolen of his voice.

Virgil’s hand, that is not supporting Logan temporarily, falls to his thigh, tracing the line where the shorts (which have now ridden up quite a bit) stop, he slides his fingers up into them a little, tracing the skin of the inside thigh there, capturing the little unrestrained whimpers this gives in their kiss. He drags his nails down lightly, Logan’s hips jerk a little, squirming in his lap.

He’s something very pretty that’s for sure, Virgil almost feels privileged for getting to see the other like this.

Virgil’s hand presses against Logan’s hard cock, it’s achingly hard despite having not been touched yet at all, he’s not sure how long the other is going to last. He breaks the kiss a little to look down, his hands sliding Logan’s shorts out of the way, and he wraps one hand around his cock, pumping slowly, before their lips rejoin again. He almost doesn’t want to kiss him though, because just before he does, Logan lets out a high-pitched, soft moan, that almost sounds a little like a whine.

He strokes Logan and nips at his bottom lip, focusing entirely on the other’s pleasure as his free hand trails up the other man’s shirt and brushes against his nipples. He breaks the kiss again to slide up Logan’s shirt and seal his lips around one his nipples, sucking at it. The other man’s hands run through Virgil’s hair, tugging just a little but it doesn’t seem intentional, just a little like the other man has no control at all at the moment.

But without their lips being busied with each other’s, Logan pants and gasps and moans as much as he’d like and every single noise makes Virgil feel accomplished and, strangely, even more endeared by the other man. He’d thought maybe Logan would be more reserved in these situations, quieter, as shy as he is in general life. But no, he’s very vocal and it’s wonderful.

He looks up through his eyelashes and the purple strands of hair falling into his eyes up at Logan’s face, the other has his head tilted back a little, his eyes screwing shut as his hips shift into Virgil’s grip. He pulls away a little, because he wants to watch the other’s face, his hand replacing where his mouth was.

The taller man whispers Virgil’s name breathlessly, for a moment he seems to just concentrate and then his hands wind through Virgil’s shirt with an iron-like grip, his hips jolting as he whimpers out the other’s name again, louder, lost in his own pleasure as cum leaks between their bodies.

Virgil strokes him through it, even after he starts whimpering and squirming from the sensitivity, enjoying the sharp inhale and little noises that sound so soft, and a little helpless. He licks the cum off his hand with a small smile, Logan follows the movement with a shiver. “Do you feel better?” he asks, Logan nods dumbly, his eyes full of life but his head completely empty. “Really has been a while, huh?” He tucks the other man back into his pants, wrapping the covers around his shoulders. “You look like it’s bedtime.”

“What about you?”

“We’ve got the rest of our lives for you to give me a handjob Logan.”

“Oh yeah,” he mutters, before clambering off of Virgil’s lap. “That’s a good point.” The other shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips at the other’s expression, he takes Logan’s hand and turns off the TV, before they both head to bed for the evening, together.

#not safe for sanders

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 3 years

Text

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Nine (finale!!)

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3 C.4 C.5 C.6 C.7 C.8

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, background platonic dlampr

I did it!!! I fucking did it!!! It’s been done!!! The end!!

Warnings: cursing, food mention, (brief) alcohol mention, kissing, relationship negotiations, cuddling, So Much Sap.

Word count: 4,147

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well.

Patton repeated that sentence to himself like a mantra, a water-filled mason jar clutched between his hands as he leaned against the kitchen bar.

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well.

Months and months went by without anyone having any sort of falling out, aside from petty arguments and occasional disagreements. Patton was attending each meeting, Remus right beside him. Life went on without a hitch.

Patton tried not to give Remus all the credit for everything good that had been happening. Logan, he knew, was working very hard to better himself and be more open. Janus was acclimating to his new surroundings more every day, and tentatively building new relationships while fixing up the old ones. Roman had been trying so hard, okay, and everyone could see the ways he hesitated less and less each time he went to speak. That’s not to speak of Virgil, who’d managed to slot his past and his present together into one big future, and not without considerable effort.

Patton could laud them all for that, for the peace that fell over the Mindpalace, but…

Part of him knew he never would’ve noticed that peace if he was still locked in turmoil with himself. And all of him knew exactly who it was that pulled him out of that hole.

Which isn’t to say it wasn’t an equal thing. He learned that a while in, that he was picking up Remus’ slack as much as Remus was picking up his. They functioned together, complimentary.

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well. The aching etched across Patton’s skin had faded, the ice solidified over his skeleton had thawed, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.

Everything in Patton’s Mindpalace was going well.

Morality grinned against the edge of his drink, fighting the urge to laugh. He wasn’t even drinking anything, and still there was this giddiness. But that was how he always got at parties, and why he preferred to not drink alcohol anyway- he didn’t need to get any more jelly-brained!

Even if ‘party’ was a generous word for the gathering: It was just a family meeting gone awry, to be honest. No one had been in a working mood, not even Logan, and it was late in the evening already and the food was already there and. Well. Things morphed from there.

Remus was almost entirely glued to Patton’s side, despite how obviously he buzzed with energy. The simple fact that there was music, and food, and everyone enjoying themselves seemed to turn him up to 100- or, 110, since he usually operated with a staggering amount of energy either way.

But it was nice, hearing him talk, watching him flicker around excitedly. Patton, as was the case more and more these days, could hardly keep his eyes off him.

It wasn’t exactly like that was a problem. He doubted that a single side wasn’t aware of how completely and utterly entangled the both of them were with each other by that point, even if some of them still found it strange. They were… surprisingly supportive, of whatever kind of relationship the two of them had formed.

Friends, Patton reminded himself sternly, what else would it be? Patton had never wanted to date anyone, after all, and this wasn’t exactly an exception. It was just…

Strange. It was strange, but so was Remus- and honestly, so was Patton- so maybe it made more sense that way.

But just the same, things were smooth, and for once Patton wasn’t feeling too neurotic about it. He was half-sitting on the bar comfortably, swinging his leg, not chatting too much out of calmness more than anything. Remus was cross-legged on the counter as well, pressed up against him, buzzing and fidgeting but otherwise relaxed. Virgil leaned against the bookshelf crosswise, talking quietly with Remus. He only looked a little overwhelmed, and that was really unavoidable in any situation (Patton knew that if things were actually too much for him, Logan would already be taking care of it- it was like he had a sixth sense for that sort of thing).

“-and anyway,” Virgil was saying, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, but I’m not about to tell Roman that, because-”

“You have to see his reaction!” Remus interrupted, grinning mischievously.

“Right, duh- you can’t just, like, pass up an opportunity to show somebody that.”

“Misery loves company!”

“And that movie is miserable,” Virgil nodded to himself, and okay, Patton had no idea what they were talking about.

He smiled at them anyway, though, because it was probably something to do with horror. Remus and Virgil could talk about horror for hours; it was a wonder there was ever a time they didn’t get along, honestly.

But Patton knew that his brain was rolling around everywhere except for the present- and he always got all reminiscent and unfocused when he was this happy- so he shook himself, standing up.

“I’m gonna check the oven, the food’s probably done by now!” and then, just to Remus: “I’ll be just a second, Mess.”

Remus smiled at him, let him go, and barely took a breath before he was talking again. (“So what’d he think? Did he scream at the end? That ending, I mean…”)

Patton slipped into the kitchen- which was barely another room, considering that wide open wall- but it was just a little quieter and a lot more pizza-roll-smelling than the living room.

Which Patton did actually have to take out of the oven, but it just so happened that getting up and moving around also got his head out of the clouds. That, and the mindless actions of snack-prep let him tune in better to what was going on around him. (“That’s the thing, he went dead quiet as soon as the scene started. For a second I thought I broke him-” and then Remus was laughing, and Virgil was shushing him while also snickering.)

Patton slipped on an oven mitt, grabbed the tray, set it on top of the stove. More noise erupted behind him, (Logan and Roman arguing about something that obviously didn’t matter, getting about as heated as they usually did.) and he shook his head, pouring the snacks steadily into a dish. Patton then grabbed the bag and spread some uncooked rolls out on the now-unoccupied pan, and slipped it back into the oven for another batch. (Janus heckling the argument. Virgil joining in, needling them.)

Patton rolled his eyes fondly, going through the motions of getting some tea ready. Might as well try to calm the dizzy exuberance in his chest while he was up, if he could, and some nice chamomile wouldn’t hurt.

(Remus wasn’t audibly teasing his brother with his snark-fueled companions, which was unlike him; to just sit there quietly.)

Patton rifled through the cabinets. Every mug was cracked or chipped or held together with glue and hope, and they sure had plenty of mugs. They kept conjuring new ones, but Patton wondered if that was doing them any good: all the mugs ended up in disarray eventually, so it was easier to just deal with the fissures as long as the cup was still, you know, vaguely functional.

Patton grabbed his favorite- easily the most beaten and battered out of them all, with a thick line splitting up the little cat face painted into it, a large chip in one part of the rim that had been sculpted to look like a cat ear. Whatever he poured into it always tasted a little like the super-glue holding it together, but it was just too darn cute to get rid of!

Patton smiled to himself, and thankfully had set the fragile thing down before two lanky arms twined around his waist and scared him half to death.

“Remus!” It didn’t sound scolding at all; Patton was laughing too much.

Remus spun him around, looking immensely proud for startling him, and raised himself up to drape his arms over Patton’s shoulders.

“What’cha smiling about?” He asked, grinning wider than Patton was even capable of. Patton laughed again, softly this time, and leaned back against the countertop.

“Mmm, you first.”

“Okay,” Remus squirmed, like he’d been hoping someone would ask- which was silly, considering that he was always smiling ear-to-ear. “You.”

Patton rolled his eyes, “Nuh-uh, I already asked-”

“No, you,” Remus poked him in the ribs, “You’re why.”

“Oh,” Patton melted, just a little. “Ohhh,” he pulled Remus into a proper hug, burying his face in the side’s hair, and the giddy feeling he’d been stuck with certainly wasn’t going away any time soon after that, “Aww, Mess!”

“Jesus, you’re so mushy. That line wasn’t even any good,” Remus cackled, like he had any right to be aloof when he was coiled all around Patton like he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re the one who said it, you big sap!” Patton playfully argued.

“Yeah, and you never answered my question!”

Patton pulled back- although that stretched the term; he’d pushed himself up onto the counter, with Remus between his knees, essentially still touching.

“I’m just in a good mood, that’s all. It’s a good night!” And it was, but Patton had to admit- “Maybe it has something to do with you, also.”

Remus smirked at him, leaning forward and planting his hands on either side of Patton’s legs.

“It better. I’m a riot at parties!”

This is barely a party, Patton thought, you’re always a riot, but he didn’t say either thing. Just hummed, tapping his fingers on the laminate countertop, staring into the middle distance pleasantly.

The rest of the sides were sprawled around the couch in the living room- which was mostly visible from the kitchen- and their argument was swiftly getting louder. Not a single one of them wasn’t laughing as much as he was shouting, though, so Patton decided to let them be. They were caught up having fun, and so was he, to be honest.

Remus was watching the others, too, but only in glances. He tossed a look over his shoulder every now and then, eyes darting around the room wildly, which was almost normal for him. Except that he looked so focused about it, scanning over them and then back to Patton with purpose, almost like he was… waiting for something.

His claws were tapping on the counters, too, but it was a feverish beat. Patton covered Remus’ hand with his own, twining their fingers together and squeezing them comfortingly- and Remus’ eyes locked immediately back onto his.

“Hi,” Patton said.

“Hey,” Remus said, “I love you.”

Patton went still. He blinked rapidly, and took a minute to remember how to think. The admission couldn’t have been surprising, of course they loved each other, but- it felt like it was the first time it had been said. It also didn’t feel like that was possible, because after all their time together how could they have skipped saying it, it was so obvious? They were so close, so blunt, Patton was pretty sure neither of them knew the meaning of the word ‘unspoken’.

Oh, but either way, he should probably- “I love you, too!”

Yeah, weird or not that they hadn’t done this before, that part was still pretty important.

But Remus hardly reacted at all, just a twitch in the corner of his lips- maybe-almost a smile, hypothetically. If anything, he was jittering even worse than before the reciprocation; Patton took his other hand just so he’d stop trembling, like a paranoid chihuahua, clutching that one the same as the first.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Buddy?” Patton implored. Remus stared at him, through him, and his eyes were visibly sharpening like little red camera lenses.

“Patton, Patton, Patton,” a wild mantra, “I must have the restraint of a saint, waiting this long to- to, I mean- Can I-” he took a breath, a set in his jaw showing just how much effort it took to pull his thoughts together. “I wanna do something. With you.”

Patton paused, and thought very carefully about that statement and everything that it could mean. There were… many possibilities.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Was the question he eventually settled on, squeezing Remus’ hands.

“Uhh, Probably not? If it does, then I’m definitely doing it wrong.”

“Okay, well-” Patton took a breath, met his friend’s eyes, and how was that as enticing as it was troubling? “Why don’t you?”

“...Can I?”

Remus looked about ready to shake out of his skin, so if whatever it was made him calm down, then Patton didn’t have any objections. Plus, hey, he was dense, but he wasn’t that dense.

“Has that question ever stopped you before?”

Something steeled in Remus’ expression, and he grinned. Patton grinned back, and that was when he knew without a doubt what was about to happen.

Remus jolted forwards and kissed him, square on the lips.

It was over as soon as it started, with Remus wrenching backwards and looking even more wild-eyed, before Patton had the time to really process it. If it was even actually a nice kiss, for example, was something that he could not honestly answer- only that it had happened, and now, here they were. But gosh, had it happened…

Remus watched him closely, tensed up like a string. He looked unaccountably silly like that, or maybe it was just the giddiness, but Patton giggled either way, smiled, and ducked his head. He felt a flush in his face, and like his heart had filled up with something- warm and wild and not like anything he knew how to name.

And gradually, Remus relaxed from tension into confusion, a hesitant laugh escaping him. He tossed out a dozen sentence fragments, which Patton deciphered with ease.

“We’re-” aromantic, “We don’t-” do that, “I’ve never-” wanted to before.

“Doesn’t matter,” Patton said decisively, “I don’t care.”

Remus searched his expression for a moment, before breaking down into hazy laughter again. He looked gone.

“Fuck it- if you don’t care, I don’t care! Let’s- Let’s just-!”

His eyes were darting around again, looking back through the open wall- and the argument was still raging, no one was paying any attention to the kitchen. Patton pulled one of his hands out of Remus’ and did something very impulsive.

He grabbed Remus’ jaw, dragging the trait’s gaze back to him.

“Don’t look at them,” he said, “Look at me.”

If it weren’t for the hush in his voice, the gentle-saccharine softness of it, the unmistakable Patton-ness of it, it would’ve sounded downright narcissistic. He could feel bad about that later, though, because as it stood the words made Remus send him a lovely little look, which made it very hard to be sorry about anything.

“No complaints here,” Remus grabbed Patton’s wrist, making it very obvious that he wanted his hand to stay right where it was. “But that’s the only time you get to boss me around, so don’t get cozy telling me what to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus’ voice had been light, nothing like the way he used to talk about Patton’s bossiness. There was that obvious hint of sarcasm, like a little in-joke between them. Patton already knew what the punchline would be. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

Remus’ eyes glinted excitedly, “Doubt it!”

“Kiss me again.”

Patton got the sense Remus couldn’t have cared less about being wrong, with how fast he launched into it.

It took three tries to turn the doorknob, and again, not a single alcoholic beverage had been had by either of them that night. It was just that they refused to stop holding hands or cracking up laughing long enough to get the stupid thing open.

Patton shoved his way through first, kicking the door shut behind them and all but dragging Remus along. They were giggling senselessly, tripping all over each other and grinning at nothing and everything, before promptly collapsing onto the bed together.

That was the moment when Patton registered the room as Remus’, which only made him grin wider, because it was so alive in there. The shadows in the wallpaper all coalesced and reached out to Patton, and the floor purred under his feet, rippling like the skin of some giant animal. It was all so creepy the first few times he’d slept there, but now it was just adorable; every part of Remus, down to his room, was so ecstatic to have him there that it tried to pull him in and hold him.

But he couldn’t very well cuddle a wall, so Patton turned his attention back to the side himself, giggling and pleasantly delirious.

Remus was staring at him. Their hands were still clasped between them.

“Hey,” he started.

“Hiii,” Patton answered.

And then, in unison:

“What are we?” “C’mere and hold me.”

Patton blinked at him, and Remus laughed.

“Compromise: I hold you while you tell me what this-” he held up their hands, “-makes us.”

Yeah, that seemed fair.

Patton shuffled over, fitting his arms around Remus’ shoulders and weaving his fingers through the Duke’s hair, scratching at his scalp. Remus curled all around him in a way that had become perfectly familiar, resting his chin on Patton’s chest and staring up at him expectantly.

(and Patton answering questions in a way that made sense was unlikely in most situations, but with this one? Oh boy).

“So, um, I love you,” he settled on eventually, working out a particularly dense knot of hair with his fingers.

Remus snorted. “Yeah, you mentioned,” he tapped his claws against Patton’s sternum, seeming to turn things over in his head. “We’re friends?”

Patton thought about it. He frowned.

“We are, but… that doesn’t feel special enough. I wouldn’t-” he felt himself flush, “I know I’m touchy, but I wouldn’t do all this with just anybody. I wouldn’t do it with anybody but you.”

“Okay. Me neither. So, uh- boyfriendssss?”

They winced in unison, Remus dragging the word out in a hiss.

“No,” Patton said.

“Yeah, that ain’t the one.”

“I mean, we don’t, um-”

“We aren’t exactly gonna fuck, you mean.”

Patton squeaked, inadvertently tugging too hard on a knot of hair. “I- first of all, you can date without- that, but second of all- mhm, that’s a definite no.”

Remus scrunched up his nose, scratching where his scalp had been pulled.

“I know you can, but I meant, like…”

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut childishly. Patton patted him on the back sympathetically, equally as frustrated with Words and their lack of General Correctness at that moment as Remus clearly was.

“Why’s everything so fucking complicated?” The trait whined, “I mean, feelings are your job, you’re smart! What’s- what’s-” Remus sat up suddenly, straddling Patton’s legs, grabbing one of the side’s hands and pressing it against his chest. The fabric of his sash was rough against Patton’s fingers, and beneath that, an irregular pattern of heartbeats, and beneath that, there were… there were definitely some feelings. “What is that, Pat?” His voice dipped low, that strained whispery sound that Patton just loved. “It’s gotta be something.”

Patton tried to focus, however hard that proved, and reached down inside to find a name for the sensation. The sensation that matched his own so well, and that gave him an odd little feedback loop of emotion that made everything sort of dizzy- trying to figure out other people’s emotions through his side ability always made him dizzy, despite the fact that he was apparently very good at it.

“It sure is something,” Patton muttered, flushing brighter. It was so much, and if Patton was anybody else but himself, it would’ve been too much. But he wasn’t, and it wasn’t; he couldn’t get enough.

“I didn’t know you cared about this,” Patton let his hand fall, smiling bemusedly up at Remus, “A label, I mean. I always thought you’d be the one saying they were stupid. Not that there’s, you know, anything wrong with it either way.”

Remus rolled off of Patton, flopping down beside him again. He pressed up against Patton’s shoulder, chewing his lip in concentration.

“I care about stuff. Stuff like you, and this is about you, so. Don’t blame me for worrying about it now, you’re the one who infected me with feelings in the first place.”

“I don’t blame you,” Patton said, and he was absolutely grinning at that. Remus narrowed his eyes. Patton stifled a laugh.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s just- You sounded exactly like Virgil,” Patton giggled, shaking his head fondly, “‘Infected with feelings’, gosh, that’s so silly.”

Remus blinked at him, before his face split with a smile. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that one.”

Patton hummed. And then, he leaned over just enough to kiss Remus’ forehead, just because he could.

Remus caught him by the jaw and pulled him in for a proper kiss, which he happily reciprocated. That kicked off a nice five minute break from the conversation at hand, as Patton took the time to appreciate the feeling, noting the reverent gentleness that Remus always touched him with was just as present as ever- and yes, for the record, it wasn’t a great olfactory experience, but softness of him more than made up for it.

“So,” Patton started, once they’d finally parted. “I think I know what we can do.”

Remus stared at him, looking distinctly dazed. “What? Make out some more?”

Patton smacked him (lightly) on the arm, smiling despite himself.

“No- well, maybe- but I meant about us.”

“Right, right.”

Patton sat up straighter (haha), leaning back against the headboard and bringing Remus up with him. He tipped his head to one side in thought, then to the other (which was mirrored, adorably, by the Duke).

“We can make it simple if we just, y’know, cut out the middleman,” Patton took Remus’ hand again, tangling their fingers together. “So, I don’t have to be your friend, or your boyfriend… What if I’m just yours?”

Remus always had a very intense stare to him, but Patton had never felt quite as pinned to the spot by those laser-sharp reds than he did in that moment.

“Oh,” purred Remus, “Ooh, I like that.”

Patton smiled sheepishly at him, running his thumb along the Duke’s knuckles. “So- yes?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Remus leaned over him, fixing his free arm around Patton’s neck possessively. “You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Sounds like a plan to me.”

Patton laughed, almost overfull with giddiness at just how eager Remus managed to sound about that. It- it felt good, to be something that someone got so excited over. To be wanted.

To want, too, wasn’t as foreign a concept to Patton. But he was wanting now, and it was worlds different than before. Because he was actually getting the source of that yearning, this time, and of course that only made the feelings stronger, and-

Thinking about it made him tired. Deliriously happy, of course, but absolutely exhausted. For once, he was almost completely devoid of the urge to psychoanalyze himself; he was happy, in love, and loved. Patton could count on one hand the number of times he’d had all three of those things in his life at once, and he didn’t want to waste this one.

He tugged Remus into his lap. Remus was incapable of sitting still at all, but he hardly minded. Remus squirmed around, drummed his fingers against Patton’s back, buried his face in Patton’s shoulder (and, completely shamelessly, smelled him). It was so him, to not be settled at all even in such a contented moment. Endearing in every way.

And he started chattering, at some point, because of course he did. At first he was talking about them, but that topic didn’t stick around for long before he was jumping around all over the place with his words.

Remus ranted for two reasons: one, he was frustrated, needy for attention. Two, he was too excited not to talk, and there was so much going on that he couldn’t shut up for a second to even breathe. Patton was intimately familiar with telling the difference between the two, and, sorting that occasion into the later category, he wrapped Remus up in his arms and waited patiently for the trait to tire himself out. He didn’t mind that either.

Eventually, though, Remus did.

Eventually, it wasn’t night so much as it was morning, and Patton was tired and warm and half-asleep already, and Remus was laying contentedly on his chest while the rambling steadily became faint mumbling.

Eventually, they were sleeping, just like any other night together.

And the last thing Patton had in mind, as he flitted in and out of awakeness, was the dim realization that he’d forgotten how it felt to be cold.

the end <3

Taglist: @donnieluvsthings @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me

#sanders sides #ts #intruality #fanfiction #fanfic #qpr intruality #patton sanders #remus sanders #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing

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thedramaclubs · 3 years

Text

Tonight belongs to you

Summery: it’s prom night and the group is going to have the night of there lives

Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety, demus/dukeceit

When they’re singing

Patton- blue

Remus-green

Duet- orange

Kaylee- black

Ms Greene- pink

All-purple

It’s prom night. Remus is at Patton’s helping him pick out a suit. “You better hurry up in there or your gonna me my drag alter ego....Eugene lee yang from the try guys.” Patton came out wearing a light blue tux.

“What do you think?”

“Well it’s better than the pink. But you got fuzz on your shoulders. You’ve got great shoulders”

“This isn’t working” Remus clean off the fuzz

“Don’t panic...does this help?”

I don’t know?....What did you wear to your prom?” Remus got quiet “Well I was gonna wear a dark green dress with sparkles everywhere. But this isn’t about me this is about you. Your gonna have the night of your life.” Remus walked back to get a view of the tux.

“Hey what’s your date wearing?”

“I don’t know.” Remus’s face change to confusion. “He didn’t give you a little fashion show?”

“I’ve never been to his house. His mother doesn’t know about us.” Patton felt anxious

“How long have you been together?”

“A year an a half.”

“Oh my god....”

“But he’s coming out tonight big time that’s the plan.......I’m really scared”

“Why?”

“Well for so many reasons but mainly because.......half of the people their still hate me.” The room got quiet. Remus put out his hand for Patton and they sat on Patton’s bed.

“Look I never went to my prom.” Remus started to tear up. Patton gave him a hug and a single tear fell from his face. “Looks like your mystery boyfriend and I never had your courage. You made all of this happened and when you walked into that gym tonight, you know what their gonna see.....the bravest person in the world.”

Patton gave a small smile and a nervous giggle “This is scary does everyone go through this?”

“Are you kidding of course. Right now girls are spraying on their tans, whitening their teeth and shoving their fingers down their throats one last time and trying to look their best for the prom. But they are wasting their time. They might as well be wearing a garbage bag........with the word “whore” on it and you know why.........because.......they’re whores.”

Patton was shocked “WHAT?!”

Remus then regretted that last statement

“No my god they don’t have the glow you have right now”

“I trust you completely and that’s kinda scary”

I can tell your feeling wary but you can count on uncle reemy he turn this butchy duck into a swan

Your whole look could use a shake up you can borrow all my make up and the pair of SPANX I currently have on

I think I’ll past

Treat the whole world like your run way make it fierce but in a fun way try to flip your hair like Cher and drag queens do

And I don’t mean to be rude dear but you could use some attitude dear

Let’s show the school tonight belongs to you

One things universal, life no dress rehearsal, so why not makes some waves before it’s through

Go big or you’ve blown it, it’s time that you own it let’s make it clear that tonight belongs to you

Now whatever we choose we gotta make sure to sell it

How do I do that?

Allow Ms Allen to demonstrate

You might find this disconcerting but old Remus has done some flirting

Try to bat your eyes and smile each time you grin

I can guess your whole agenda

You be Elphie I’m Galinda

It’s makeover time so why not just give in

Cmon!!

One things universal

Life’s no dress rehearsal

So why not make some waves before it’s through

Go big or you’ve blown it

It’s time that I own it (yes sir!)

Let’s make it clear that tonight belongs to you

What?

Belongs to me

Kaylee and Shelby are at Kaylees house

“Oh god I can’t believe this is finally happening” Said Kaylee

“He almost ruined it for all of us” Said Shelby

“Well what goes around comes around. You look hot”

“You look so hot”

Well I hate to sound conceited but the boys get over heated when I strike a pose or or two like thus *they do poses here*

And you have to hand it to me I mean even I would do me

Let’s show the world tonight belongs to us

One things universal, life no dress rehearsal excuse me while I state the obvious

go big or you’ve blown it

It’s time that we own it lets make it clear that tonight belongs to us

Logan finished getting dress. He was in a black tux with a dark blue tie with his hair pulled back with gel.

“You look so handsome. You should always wear your hair like this.”

Logan took a deep breath. “Mom I want you to know what’s gonna happen tonight I-”

“Shh can we not spoil this moment. I’ve worked very hard on this night. I have a right to enjoy it too. Your gonna have a wonderful prom like a normal boy I made sure of that”

“What does that mean?”

I don’t like when strangers in my way or when somebody messes with the PTA

Or maybe that’s just me trust me

Fixes little problems is what I do now everyone is happy I promise you

And I would never ever miss a night like this Logan your my super Star now get your ass in the car

The Prom has begun. Every is dancing and having the night of their lives. Everyone has worked so hard for this night music blasting, streamers and confetti flying and everyone haveing the night of their lives.

One things universal life’s no dress rehearsal excuse me while I state the obvious

Go big or you’ve blown it

It’s time that we own it

And make it clear that tonight belongs to

Make it clear that tonight belongs to

Make it clear that tonight belongs

TO US!!!

Patton and the actors are at the gym door about to go inside we’re the rest of the kids are.

“You look so handsome” Said Roman

“Are you sure it’s not to boyish?”

“No it’s definitely boyish.” Said Janus as he held a little box.

“He means it’s not to boyish. My husband likes to mess with people time to time but that’s what I love about him.” Janus blushed at what Remus Said. “You did good Remus. I thought you had no fashion sense whatsoever but I was wrong.”

“Thanks Roman. Where’s your date?”

“We’re meeting inside the gym. He’s still a little shy about all this but he’ll be there.”

“Well this is were we leave you our work here is done.” Remus got the box from Janus and inside was a boutonniere. He pinned it on Patton’s tux and they started to walk away.

“Can you walk me in Remus? I’m a little nervous.”

Remus gave a small smile “of course.” The two of them squealed and walked in the gym

“We did good you guys. Now who’s wants a drink?” Roman, Janus, Thomas and Joan walked out.

The moment Remus and Patton walked in the gym.........they were in shocked. The gym was empty. Their was no one there except for Virgil on the phone and some balloons and streamers.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just putting the pieces together give me one second.” Virgil went back on the the phone and Remus kept looking around the sad and empty gym.

“Where is everybody?”

“What’s going on here?” Once Remus said that Roman, Janus, Thomas and Joan came in.

“Something’s wrong. The entire parking lot is empty!” Roman looked around

“Jesus what’s the theme of the prom death row!” Said Joan

Patton’s voice started to shake “Mr Hawkins. Where are all the kids? I don’t understand?”

Logan and his mom were at the real prom and Logan was concerned

“I don’t understand. Why aren’t we at the gym?”

His mom provided and explainantion “Well at last minute their was a problem and we had to change the venue.” “Mom what’s going on tell me the truth.”

Gym

“This is what happened as I understand it the courts told the pta to hold and inclusive prom.”

Prom

“Don’t worry we did what we had to do”

Gym

“There was some resistance but the parents met without my knowledge and organized 2 proms”

Prom

“We gave him a prom”

Gym

“One for all the kids at elk lodge down town”

At both places

“Oh my god” Said Patton and Logan

Gym

And THIS prom.....JUST for you!”

Prom

“Now you go have fun! I will be here to make sure everything is perfect”

Gym

Patton’s voice was shaking “Wait no I got texts from kids at school everyone said it was here!”

“They lied to you it was part of the plan.”

“Oh my god!” Roman exclaimed

Prom

“YOU LIED TO ME!” Yelled Logan at Kaylee and Shelby

“Who’s the lier.”

“What?”

“We know about you and Patton.”

“Trust us we’re doing you a favor.”

“You can thank us later.”

Gym

“Patton I’m so so sorry this is...... IM STILL IN SHOCK” Patton walked away to cry a little

“So your saying the whole town kept this from him?!” Said Thomas

“This is so cruel” Said Janus

“I’m gonna cry!” Remus ran into Janus’s arms and started to cry.

“This is a disaster.” Said Roman

“This is a PR problem.” Said Joan as they walked to Roman

“No we had a PR problem, this is a full-blown disaster this is the end of my career.” Virgil overheard the conversation.

“Whoa whoa, that’s why you came here for publicity!?” Roman walked to the taller man “Virgil you don’t know how the world works.” “Yes I do......unfortunately.” Patton put his glasses back on and walked to the front of the gym.

One things universal, life’s no dress rehearsal, when people find a scapegoat, to condemn. We went big yet we’ve blown it I guess I should have known it all along tonight belong............. to them

Patton’s phone rang

“Logan!”

“I swear I didn’t know.”

“You were on the prom committee how did you not know?”

“It was Kaylee and Shelby. They found out we were together they didn’t want me to tell you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“YOU THINK I WOULD DO THIS TO YOU!”

“Then come met me.”

Silence. Logan began to cry

“I can’t”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“My mom is here.”

“WELL LEAVE HER!” Tears we’re streaming down Patton’s face

“She’s watching me every second!”

THEN TELL HER YOUR GAY!!!! TELL HER WE’RE IN LOVE THAT WAS THE PLAN WASNT IT!!!

I CANT BECAUSE KAYLEE AND SHELBY KNOW!!!!

“I’ve had enough”

“I mean it’s not how I thought it would go I’m sorry.”

“Great, perfect, that fixes everything, have fun at the normal persons prom!” Patton hung up.

“Patton. PATTON!”

Remus than interjected “Okay here’s what we’re gonna do, we are gonna go to that prom and-”

“NO THIS ALREADY THE WORSE NIGHT OF MT LIFE JUST STOP HELPING ME!!” Patton ran out of the gym crying and Janus followed after him

And make it clear that tonight belongs to

Make it clear that tonight belongs to

Make it clear that tonight belongs

TO US!!!!!!!

End of act 1

Okay so I’m gonna take a break from writing the au for a bit. I’ll still be on tumblr and you guys can talk to me I’m just gonna take a break do for about a week or 2. if you want to be tag let me know

People to tag/ @artissijules @patt-off @frogsandcookies @icantthinkofacreativeurl @purplestarrystars @actingonimpulse

#sanders sides #logicality #prinxiety #demus #dukeceit #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #c!thomas #ts joan #livy writes #sanders sides the prom au

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xlehukax · 4 years

Text

Still Beating Heart

Foreword: Hello! I’ve been working on this thing for a little while now, and it’s finally done! This fanfiction is set in the Pediatric Doctors AU that I made, that you can learn more about here. It’s done in conjunction to writings by @eeveeeclair246, to who has the first installment of this series, titled Inefficent Iron, which you can find here. And, if you don’t want to read on Tumblr, I get it! This will also be on Archives in a hot minute, so check my Masterpost for the link. Now, on with the show!

Ships: Roman x Virgil, Implied Remus x Logan

Word Count: 10215

Warnings: LANGUAGE, Alcoholism, Bars, Panic Attacks, Medical Issues (ie. weak hearts), Cheating, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Rape, that creeping feeling of regret.

Summary: Virgil’s always been the quiet nurse, the prickly one, the don’t talk to me unless there’s an issue one. Roman’s fresh out of a relationship, and looking to go out on the town, and needs a friend to go along with. And Virgil can’t say no to his crush, even if they work in the same place.

~~~~

It’s just another day at the office: by that, Virgil means, Patton’s handing out cookies, Logan’s being a work-aholic and refuses to let any of the patients go to Janus, in which is being very meticulous and annoyingly good at his job and refusing to let Virgil do his, Remus is going through the latest urine samples, and Roman is doing what Roman does best. Ranting about his latest breakup while painting his nails in the receptionist booth.

And Virgil just happens to be the only one around, after Patton leads the last patient of the day to Logan and the waiting room finally empties. Virgil simply sighs in defeat, and tries to shrink into his nurse uniform. Let it be known, he did not choose to be there. Or ever.

“Emo, are you even listening?”

“Yup, yes, I am, absolutely,”

“Alright, just had to make sure, you know, you tend to ignore me, which you’d think is impossible but you never cease to surprise me in that regard. Anyway, so this guy, Ethan- total dreamboat, eyes bluer than you’d ever believe. So I met him on this app, and we went for drinks a few weeks ago: and thirty minutes in, I’m in love. He’s a painter. Sweetest guy- we end up at his apartment, and you know- but I was in it for the long haul. Virgil, I was really ready for a long-term with this guy. He seemed like he was down for it too… and then, just yesterday, you know what I found in his apartment?”

“Another person,” Virgil sighs.

“Some floozy, blond and covered in hickeys, and Ethan painting her. Like, I didn’t know what to be more offended about: the fact that he cheated on me or that he doesn’t have a sexy painting of me!”

“Mhmm…” Virgil’s almost fallen asleep, and doesn’t even notice Roman hovering utop him until he’s right in his face.

“Virgil-” Roman shouts, and Virgil startles right into Roman’s arms. Which he now is realizing quite quickly are not just incredibly strong because they hold his weight easily, but landing their faces inches apart. Virgil sucks in a gasp- Roman smirks. “Hey there… you know, you’re not too bad looking yourself. Under all that makeup, you’re quite the princess, aren’t you?” It takes Virgil a moment to craft a response, he’s so scatterbrained and blushing.

“Fuck off Princey, I’m not your latest conquest,” Virgil hisses, still a large flush on his features. Roman flicks his nose.

“Yeah, but you’re still cute. Maybe I should date you~”

“In your fucking dreams- you cycle through boyfriends so fast, I’ll be dust in the wind,”

“Hmm,” Roman still hasn’t let Virgil go, and it is not helping the warmth in his face whatsoever, “Can’t argue with that.” And then Virgil is unceremoniously dumped onto the chair he was sitting in, with Roman towering above him. Did he always have those pretty eyes? He’s got these fantastically plump lips, it really shows when he’s smirking like that. And that hair is quite… quite royal- now that he’s looking at it-

Bloody hell, stop, now’s not the time to fawn, Virgil curses at himself. Virgil has always been introverted, and this- this interaction, Roman’s boldness with him… it’s completely unfamiliar. A bold move, reaching into his space, completely ignoring all of the protective glares and hisses that Virgil had in place. Disregarded his shields completely. Virgil has been harboring a bit of an infatuation with this confident musical wonder as of late, and this is not helping matters. Roman chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, J.Delightful, now I simply must make use of this situation,”

“What are you getting at-” Virgil snarls, to which Roman simply grins widely.

“You’re going to be my new wingman. There’s a open mic at a gay bar I frequent, and if I’m going to find somebody, then I need someone else to be my safety buddy. You know, watch for creepy old men who hit on me and all that jazz,” Roman pushes, eyes alight with excitement, “Patton won’t go with me anymore because he doesn’t like the loud noises, Logan doesn’t drink, I’m not asking Janus to come he’ll scare them all away or steal the attention, and Remus- well, you can probably guess why not Remus, and it’s not because people approach us because we’re twins. I can’t believe I’ve never asked you to come with me! It’ll give us some good outside of work bonding time too. Isn’t it great?”

“I don’t want to,” Virgil grumbles. Roman tuts.

“Oh come on now- am I so hard to be around?” No, Virgil thinks, and that’s the problem. “Pfft, if it’s really so hard, I’ll just cave and bring around someone else.”

“No…” Virgil whispers, so quiet that he’s sure it’s nearly silent, and Roman’s eyebrow perks up.

“Hmm? Was that a no I just heard?”

“I just- I’m not good in social situations, do you even really want me there? I’ll probably just screw your chances, scare people off,”

“Perfect! I’ll need someone to scare someone off,”

“But- I’ll damper on your fun,”

“Never! You will never cease to be fun to poke fun at,”

“I don’t know, Princey. You really want me there?” Virgil says, looking away and speaking in hushed tones still. Roman grabs his pale hands, squeezing them tightly.

“I need you, Virge,” Roman purrs. Virgil blushes harder, somehow, and tucks his head into his shoulder and murmurs his agreement. Damn it. “Wonderful! I’ll pick you up at 9, how does that sound?”

“Wait, tonight?” Virgil squawks. Roman drops his hands, blessedly, and steps back from him shrewdly. Smart, as Virgil’s immediate response is to throw a punch. Roman easily sidesteps.

“Oh, yes- did I not mention that? Tonight. It’s Friday,” Roman nods, smiling wickedly. Oh my god, I need to bathe, I need to find something nice-ish to wear, unearth my good eyeshadow, fuck it all I need new skin-

“Hey, hey, don’t freak. You don’t have to get all fancy for me: wear what makes you comfortable, and I’ll stop by your apartment at 9,”

“Wait a second- how do you know where I live?” Virgil says, suddenly horrified. Roman snickers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Uh, yes I would,” Virgil growls.

“Pfft, I need to know everyone’s addresses, I’m the receptionist, Virge. It’s my job,” Roman scoffs. Virgil blushes: well, now he feels foolish. But it reminds him: Roman and himself work together. It doesn’t matter if something comes out of this, as it is- Remus and Logan are constantly being sickeningly cute around the office. The real problem is if he screws this up, and still has to go to work with him the next day. This is a really bad idea. But… When will he have another golden opportunity like this one?

“Okay, okay- 9, right?”

“Yes! Thank you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance- you’re going to have so much fun. I’ll sing a song just for you, as thanks,” Roman grins cheekily, Virgil blows the hair out of his eyes, attempting nonchalant despite the whirlwind of anxiety confined within.

“Alright, fine, whatever. Should I- should I dress a certain way? Wait, is there a dress code? How much money should I bring? Is it credit or cash? Do they have food there? Will I have to dance?” Virgil shudders at the thought of dancing, even with Roman, who is currently blinking rapidly under the onslaught of questions.

“Okay erm, just dress how you normally do? Scratch that, a peg hotter than a hoodie, thank you. No dress code, have you ever been to a bar? Just bring your wallet, think about how many drinks you want, and I’m dancing whether you’re going to or not, so-”

Virgil takes notes internally, already too worried about this whole ordeal. He should really just cancel, say he just remembered something, but he knows he’ll regret that later. Either way, the only other thing he’s doing tonight is hanging with his spider, Missy, and watching Unsolved Mysteries. So…

“I’ll- I’ll see you later then, Princey,” Virgil murmurs, before gathering the few things he has around him and breezing past whilst trying to make it appear like he’s not running away.

“See you!! At least pretend to be excited- It’s going to be one hell of a night, Virge- you won’t regret this!”

As Virgil silently clocks out (Patton will take over the end of the day nurse activities, it’s fine) he thinks to himself, I certainly hope not.

~~~~~

And then, it’s already 8:50, too soon. Virgil showered, twice, because the first time he used his usual unscented body wash for work and not the one that smells like lavender and violets and by jove Roman inviting him out after work deserves more than unscented. Then the clothes resulted in a mini fashion show in front of the mirror for an hour, where upon he finally settled on a black button down over a grey undershirt with some black ripped jeans (it took him another 25 minutes to decide on mostly untucked in a ‘I just threw this on’ careless feel), and his favorite purple and black hoodie just in case it got cold… of which he ended up shivering right away anyhow and put it on anyway.

And then a whole other hour on makeup: a very tasteful black eyeliner and purple and black smokey eye with just a hint of dark glitter. Some lipstick, and a little dust on his cheekbones, and Virgil finally felt confident, an emotion that lasted all of ten minutes when he realized that he hadn’t chosen a pair of shoes yet.

The shoes took another thirty minutes alone. And then the idea of changing his hair up a little occurred to him, and that was another hour wasted that ended with keeping his regular low-hanging hair anyway.

And now he’s trying not to look like he’s waiting, because he doesn’t want to be waiting on Roman, but he needs to see if his car comes up, but he doesn’t want to be desperate, so he’s panicking slightly in his apartment with all the lights off because he was going to leave and now he’s freaking out instead, because he doesn’t know if it’s more appropriate to wait for Roman to text him that he’s outside and head downstairs after that or to just head downstairs now like a normal person or maybe he just shouldn’t go. His head slowly stops pounding, and his breath evens out, the oncoming anxiety attack fading away with the thought. Yeah, maybe Virgil can stay home instead- there’s too many variables anyway.

When Virgil was young, he was always making decisions like this. He was sick, not like crazy-sick, but sick. Anemia, coupled with coronary heart disease, topped off with bronchitis. He had weak lungs, weak heart, weak blood- his whole body was frail, and sometimes his blood didn’t move around fast enough to make him work right. There was no running around, no nothing: he was constantly worried about every little thing, because his parents were. Did you take your pills today? How was your bloodwork? Are you feeling woozy? Until Virgil just stopped leaving the house whatsoever. It was just easier. There was no chance of passing out while crossing a street and getting run over, never going to embarrass himself at school by having a heart attack…

And wouldn’t you know, staying at home made him only sicker. No muscle mass whatsoever, pale as a ghost, always so cold, so frail from not getting enough nutrients. His parents made the best decision of their lives and set him down the path that led him here by… by hiring a nurse. A kind nurse, with funny jokes and encouragement, who helped him go outside for the first time in months. Who taught him little things to make him stronger, like light weights. Virgil grew out of his heart disease, and though he still had bronchitis and anemia, he regularly took medications which made them easy to handle. And just like that, Virgil was no longer sickly (at least externally, he still had anxiety, but he’s managing it). Then he was a normal teenager, who wanted to be strong enough to help someone in the same way that nurse had.

Here Virgil is now- and he’s not going to fall into that same loop he was in as a kid. He’s better now, medicating only when needed. Virgil is all lean-muscle, and he’s better than his anxiety. He can totally go on a date-not-a-date with his crush to a gay karaoke bar. Totally. Taking a deep breath, Virgil checks his phone (which is fully charged with two mini backup batteries on his keys tucked into his back pocket) and realizes with horror that Roman texted a whole six minutes ago while Virgil was panicking that he was waiting downstairs.

“Shit!” Virgil slams his door, and just runs down the stairs instead of taking the elevator (he only lives on the fourth floor anyway, because anything higher than like 10 fire ladders can’t get to and there’s a 50% possibility of surviving a fall from four stories), and hopes his meticulous makeup job isn’t ruined. By Roman’s expression, he doesn’t think it did-

He had been grinning teasingly, mouth open to say some quip, but his jaw goes slack when he sees Virgil. Roman’s eyes are wide, leaning up against his red car, as he watches Virgil stop by the curb only a few feet in front of him. Roman whistles.

“Damn, Virgil… you look- damn. Wowza, do you clean up nice,” Roman falls over his words, making Virgil flush. Roman thinks I look good- I did good, it’s all good.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Princey,” Virgil whispers. Because really, he doesn’t: Roman’s white dress shirt has the top two buttons undone, showing off his pectorals and just a hint of his abs, and some nice pants. His hair is done over to the side, and one crown earring hangs from an ear. It’s really a delightful look, but makes Virgil feel out of place with his dark clothes and his heavy makeup. Roman only has a light bit. “Did I go overboard? I can- I can wash it off,” Virgil asks, hating that he’s offering to change this intensive and difficult look for a stupid guy.

“No, no- you look gorgeous. Seriously Virge, you should do my makeup. Like, I feel outdone, and I never feel that way! Come on, get on in, let’s go,” Roman shoos Virgil into the car, where he feels just as much if not more awkward. Still, he’s excited, out of this world excited: Roman likes how he looks. Roman finds him attractive, and they’re going to the club, together.

Not together, Virgil- you’re just his buddy. Virgil has to remind him that this is not a date, that he’s gotten all worried and dressed up for sitting at a bar and watching Roman flirt with other men. It makes his heart ache, but at least they’re together now .

“We’re almost there, Emo. You ready to have a good time?”

“I uh- erm, I mean. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll have fun sitting in the corner doing fucking nothing, that’s what I’m ready for,” Virgil’s suddenly defensive and feels horrible about the crude outburst.

“Oh my- Virge, do you not want to go? I don’t want to force you into anything!” No, I do, I do!

“Eh, it’s whatever. I got all dressed up, be a shame to not go out. I just- I don’t like to- I’m-”

“I know you don’t like being left alone! Don’t worry, I’ll be close by the whole time. I’ll watch you if you watch me, yeah?”

“Why are you so worried about being watched? You’ve clearly been to a lot of these things…” Virgil changes the subject to hide his flush at Roman’s empathy for him.

“Ah, well- I have been to a lot of these things, and I’ve had some… unfavorable experiences. A few times now, guys have put stuff in my drinks, or waited for me to get drunk and then take me home. It’s… it’s not what I want. I go to meet new people, not to get a one-night stand that I didn’t want. They don’t make me feel good. I hate it,” Roman growls at the road, and Virgil makes what might be a rash decision and places his long pale hands on Roman’s tanned worn ones by the gearshift. Roman looks over at him, and Virgil ducks his head. Roman smiles.

“I’ll watch out for you, I promise. I don’t really drink either, ‘cuz of my blood issues, so I can drive home too,” Virgil murmurs, still looking away. Roman moves his hand around, grips his tightly. Virgil doesn’t look at it, but knows they’re intertwined, and it makes his head hurt.

“Thank you, Virge. Aaand, we’re here,” the bar is bright in the dark evening, a neon sign advertising it, and Roman pulls into a parking space behind the building. He takes his key, and reaches out to put it in Virgil's pocket. “Don’t trust myself to hand em over, this thing’s my baby. I’m trusting you, though, and you gotta be good about that, alright?”

Virgil nods, and allows Roman to exit the car and help him out the other side. Roman throws his arm over Virgil’s shoulders, and saunters into the bar. As expected, it is loud. Someone’s already singing, a song by Chicago, and is doing pretty okay. There are bright lights here and there, some spots illuminated completely and others in darkness. There’s a whole load of people here too: some make eyes at him as he walks in. Virgil sticks to Roman, who chuckles, as they both head to the bar. The bartender seems to recognize Roman.

“Here for the open mic, are you, King?”

“You know it! Sign me right on up,” Roman laughs. Roman’s arm drops from Virgil’s shoulders. The bartender rolls his eyes, swipes some green dyed locks from his vision and writes Roman’s name on a pad.

“What song are you singing?”

“It’s a surprise, like usual, Vincent, I don’t know why you even bother asking,”

“Uh huh. And I see you brought a friend… you wanna sing too, baby-cheeks?” Vincent asks, leaning forwards.

Virgil hisses at him, then clears his throat.

“I don’t fucking sing,” he snarls, adding in his mind, in public. Vincent smiles knowingly.

“Aha, a feisty one. You really know how to pick em’, eh? Can I get you a drink then?” Virgil feels like he’s about to explode: this is not what he signed up for. He is here to be with Roman and watch out for him, not take this guy’s shit. Roman notices, and slings his arm once more over him.

“Nah, just a work colleague. He’s a nurse~ and doesn’t drink. It’s a shame, I know, but it’ll work better in my favor anyway. I’ll save money on the taxi. Incredible Sulk, how does a black coffee sound?”

“I guess that’s okay,” Virgil grumbles, glaring at this man even as he shrugs and complies. They both take a seat at the bar, Roman ordering some complicated fancy thing to match his personality and Virgil immediately hunching over his hot coffee. It’s surprisingly good for a bar, bitter yet flavourful, and Virgil finds himself smiling down at it.

“Eh, I think that smile says it’s more than just okay!” Roman purrs, shimmying closer to Virgil and bumping their shoulders. It seems as though the alcohol is already having an effect, his disposition somehow brighter. Virgil shies away slightly. Someone else saddles up to the bar and introduces himself. This man has long swoopy raven hair, and is even more lanky than Logan. He leans by Roman, eyes colder than Virgil would like. The dark haired fellow decides to listen in on the conversation… just in case.

“Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” the stranger says. Roman puts his hand on the bar, slurps the rest of his drink down in one go.

“I’m not sure- I do tend to get around. Where do you think you know me from, blue eyes?” Oh no. The guy’s got blue eyes, he didn’t even notice that. Virgil mourns his only chance at getting with Roman- this guy’s stealing it.

“Oh, I know! The theatre, right? You were Jason Dean in the Heathers production! Scary shit, man. You’re a fantastic singer. Hey, can we get another drink?” the stranger waves over Vincent, who fixes Roman another bright cocktail. Roman immediately starts fiddling with the straw, and looks up at the stanger.

“The name’s Roman. What’s yours?”

“I’m Lucian. It’s nice to meet you. Man, it’s so loud here: I wish we could go~,” Lucian says. Virgil narrows his eyes at the stranger, takes another sip of coffee. Roman smirks, and turns and winks at Virgil as if to say Look at this catch. Virgil tries to smile, but is pretty sure it’s just a grimace. It may just be Virgil’s luck (despite how it affects Roman) but Virgil notices Lucian dropping something in Roman’s drink. Virgil slams the table, slaps Lucian, and pushes the drink away. He fists his hand in Lucian’s shirt, able to lift the man a foot or two in the air. Patrons gawk at the events unfolding, Roman seems shocked.

“Don’t fucking touch Roman’s drink, what the fuck did you put in there you bastard?”

“Dude- that’s my drink. It was a little additive, I can consume alcohol without risk without it! He seemed to be enjoying it so much, I asked for one too, can you please- let me down, you’re hurting me-” Virgil snarls, but drops him anyway. Roman touches Virgil’s shoulder gently.

“He’s right, it’s his drink, Virgil. Thank you for defending me, but really it’s okay-” Roman reassures him, smiling placatingly, and all Virgil can feel is embarrassed. Embarrassed out of his mind and his anxiety is shooting through the roof.

“I-I… I- uh… I-” to make matters worse, another man comes stomping up to him, throws his drink on Virgil. His hoodie is now soaked, his shirt too. Virgil’s lower lip trembles. He grits his jaw against them, holding it in. Despite the fact that he’s made a total fool of himself in front of Roman. Virgil wants to bite his nails, to go home, to run away and never return. This new man points his finger right in Virgil’s face.

“Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing my husband’s shirt like that?” he growls. Virgil wants to hide in his sopping wet hoodie. Hide and never come back.

“I- erm, uh- umm-”

“My friend here is very sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Hey, can I buy the both of you a drink? Tell me how you met,” Roman leads them both away, looking pityingly at Virgil, “How bout you go to the bathroom and clean yourself up a little, huh? I’ll take care of this.”

Virgil ducks his head and runs with his tail between his legs. He throws himself into the surprisingly clean stall and locks it tight before falling down on the seat fully clothed. I can’t believe you did that you fucking idiot you’ll never shape up what were you thinking doing some stupid stunt like that? You’ve ruined it. Ruined everything. There’s no way Roman will ever want you now. Virgil’s panic attack is coming on quickly, like a train hurtling down a track with no end in sight. He doesn’t want it to happen, but he starts to cry.

Usually, Virgil looks to his familiar hoodie for comfort. But his hoodie is soaked, and Virgil is shivering in it. He should take it off. But he doesn’t want to, he just wants to wallow in it and wither away.

You’ll never amount to anything. You should have just stayed inside: no one would have missed you. Roman had to clean up after your mess, you were supposed to be helping and now you’re just rotting in the bathroom like an idiot. Why did you even come, if you’re just going to be a let down?

Virgil’s breath is coming out in uneven gasps, his heart is palpitating dangerously. He really shouldn’t be alone, he should go out and- no, no, no. His skin is too tight, his head is too small, and his hands are pressing bruises into his arms, he is holding them so tight. What is he supposed to do again? When his thoughts get too big for his mind and he feels like fainting, feels like how he was when he was younger and like his heart could just give out any minute and the next time he blinked open his eyes he’d be on a hospital bed.

His hazy, anxiety-filled mind vaguely recalls a conversation he had with Logan once, after he had pulled him back from an attack in the workplace (he mixed up two patients and fell apart in an empty room) that he should… he should ask for help. Call me, he had said, no matter the time. Just call me for help, and I’ll talk it out with you.

Logan is on speedial, Logan, Logan can help- with shaking fingers, Virgil can just make out the emergency phone button on his cell to call Logan.

The ringing of the phone helps station Virgil, stations him better than the pain in his hands. It picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hello, Doctor Logan Berry speaking.”

“Logan,” Virgil’s voice sounds so fucking raspy and teary, sounds so horrendously uncertain, “You- you said to call, and- if you’re busy just hang up, it’s fine you don’t have to worry, actually this was a bad idea, I’m going to hang up-”

“You will do no such thing, Virgil. Stay on the line with me. Scale of one to ten, how bad?”

“I- uh, I dunno, probably like- like a seven? I messed everything up, Lo, I- fuck, I can’t do anything right-”

“Well, that is one foul-tempered lie. Let’s calm down first, yes, and then you’ll tell me all about what happened. I’m sure it’s better than it seems,” Janus’s voice, even hindered through the phone, forces Virgil to relax. He had no idea that Janus could hear, but apparently they’re together. His mind recalls lamely that tonight is when they get together to go over payments and make sure everything is in order. A part of him is glad that Janus can hear; He’s like a hypnotist with his voice, a snake. Virgil nods, then another wave of idiocy flows through him because it’s over the phone.

“Okay, Virgil, now exhale through your mouth. I want to hear it through the telephone,” Logan instructs, no nonsense.

Virgil shakily breathes out.

“Good. Now close your mouth and inhale quietly through your nose. I’m going to count to four, alright?”

“O-okay,” Virgil complies, breathing it in. Janus counts him off rhythmically over the phone: Logan’s on the right and Janus on the left, and the result is relaxing.

“Hold your breath now for seven seconds. I’ll count for you once more.” Janus-

“Exhale again, for a total of eight seconds. Here we go-” Logan-

“Exceptional work, darling. You’re doing so well. Let’s repeat the process a few more times, how does that sound?” Janus-

Holy hell, do they make a good team.

And just like that, Virgil feels better. His chest eases, his mind soothes, and he’s no longer shaking.

“Thank you, both of you. That was- it was really fucking helpful. I don’t know what would happen if I was here alone,”

“If you don’t mind me asking… where is here?” Logan asks, dry and with no sense of privacy whatsoever.

“I’m at a bar with Roman. He- he invited me, because he wanted backup, and I made a total fool of myself. I got all aggressive on this guy who did nothing wrong,”

“Aha, jealous?” There’s a sound of Janus wrestling the phone from Logan, much to his displeasure, “Just finish this weeks, Berry-” is heard through the phone.

“Maybe… hey, wait a second! Who told you-”

“I’m not blind, Virgil. Nor stupid. Don’t even try that on me. It might work on the nerd, and even Remus and Patton, but unlike them, I’m not clueless,”

Virgil pouts, grunting softly. Is he really that obvious?

“Whatever! And now… I’ve got no chance with him. I don’t know why I even came here, anyone could see that it was a stupid idea.”

“No- well, yes, this was very stupid and most likely going to end in strife, but you still certainly have a chance! Remember, this is Roman we’re talking about: he’s a carousel when it comes to men, always changing.”

“That’s part of the issue, Jan- where am I? I’ll be left behind, and have to watch as he finds a another and another and another-”

“You’re starting to panic again, Virgil. Calm yourself. And I know that won’t happen.”

“How?”

“You’re more perceptive, attentive, and caring than any of those guys will ever be. Roman would be even more of an idiot than either of us could possibly imagine if he were to let you go. Again, I am not blind: I see how good you are with the patients. You are careful and thoughtful. Despite how you might see yourself, Virgil, you are a good person. A wonderful person, who makes mistakes, but always fixes them. You do not leave them behind you. You feel empathy, and guilt, two very humane things, and you remedy your problems. That’s what happened with me, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right,” Virgil’s blushing again. It’s true, that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid or unfinished: it makes him terribly worried, and the only solution he’s found is confronting them head on. Janus and Virgil had met long ago, when they were both younger: Janus had just started medical practices, and done work for Virgil. It ultimately failed and hurt Virgil more, which sparked deep hatred on Virgil’s side and a continued regret on Janus’s. They eventually reconciled, reuniting later when Virgil started out as a nurse, and everything had become much better.

“Now, get back out there, darling. You’ll do great.”

“...Thanks, Janus,”

“Anytime,” and with that, Janus hangs up the phone to return to Logan. Virgil sighs to himself, and exits the stall: in the mirror, he sees his makeup all ruined. He washes it off, cleans his hoodie (which is relatively drier now) and ends up taking off the damp shirt as well. Thank goodness he’s wearing an undershirt: walking out topless seems hellish, and this only slightly better.

It’s been a while since Virgil has gone anywhere without his hoodie on or makeup. He barely recognizes himself, and he sees this face every morning. But… it’ll be what it’ll be. Checking his phone, Virgil realizes that he’s been in the bathroom for… nearly two hours?

Oh my god, I hope Roman hasn’t left yet- Virgil flies out of the bathroom, holding his damp dress shirt and beloved hoodie in one crooked arm. Scanning the room, he notices Roman sitting at one of the small square tables watching some guy sing “Mad World” somewhat decently. Virgil sighs in relief, and walks over and sits right in front of him.

“Princey, thank god you’re still here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Virgil says, his voice softer than usual from all the crying. Roman looks at him, a smile curving on his features.

“Hello there, you’re- you’re pretty,” Roman slurs slightly mid sentence, and Virgil gapes. Roman is drunk. Very drunk. So drunk, that he doesn’t recognize Virgil without his makeup and hoodie. While Virgil stares openmouthed, Roman reaches over and squeezes his bicep. “Ooh, you’re so strong too! Pretty face, and a hot body-”

“Roman, you seriously don’t recognize me? Honest to god?” Virgil insists. Roman blinks slowly, but there’s no spark. Roman seriously has no idea, Virgil’s a stranger.

He should probably bring him home.

Or… he can start over. Roman won’t remember it anyway: this might be his only chance.

“I think I’d remember such a handsome prince” Roman huffs. Virgil, unsurprisingly, blushes.

“That’s very kind of you. You don’t look half bad yourself,” Virgil purrs.

“Oh- you’re a flirt too! I like you,” Roman smiles widely, “Do you want to get another drink?”

“I think you’ve had enough… do you want to go up and sing instead?” Virgil suggests, scooching closer to Roman. Touching his clothed shoulder, he feels how warm Roman is. Roman snuggles up to Virgil just a tad- he’s over affectionate, and with no filter, and no sense. It’s adorable, and Virgil is glad he got here when he did, because who knows who would take advantage of this cuddly child-like man?

Now he understands why Roman needs a drinking buddy.

“I love singing, I’m very good at it. I like Disney too. Do you like Disney?”

“Yes, I like Disney,” Virgil snorts. They’ve had this debate over and over: the both of them like the franchise, though Virgil sees the darker bits that Roman tends to ignore.

“You wanna- you wanna sing Love is an Open Door with me? I like that song, it’s a good song-” Roman rambles, looking excited. Virgil hates public speaking, let alone public speaking, but… he doesn’t know anyone here, what’s the issue?

“That sounds good. Let’s go sign up, shall we?” Virgil suggests, Roman excitedly clinging to Virgil’s arm.

“You’re so cold, it’s so nice,” Roman murmurs, rubbing his face on Virgil’s bare shoulder. Virgil can’t help but smile: his heart is beating fast, but in a fantastic way. Vincent doubletakes as they make it to the bar.

“Hey you two- heading home? Ro looks pretty slammed…”

“I’ll take him home in a bit. He wants to do one more song,” Virgil explains. Roman giggles, and Virgil’s heart does another flip. His smile widens.

“Ah, sorry folks- Roman can’t do another one. He’s already exhausted the limit of five: you should have heard him sing some of those. An undercover celebrity, he is,” Vincent reaches over and mussies Roman’s hair, to which Virgil slaps his hand away.

“Princey, did you hear? You can’t sing another one,” Virgil tells him, his voice still soft.

“Aww, really? I wanna- I wanna sing some ‘ore,” Roman pouts, his lower lips trembling. Virgil kisses his cheek, just a peck really, that’s all he can manage without exploding. Roman turns on a dime, sadness morphing to elation all at once. He leans in for another, to which Virgil declines, pushing him away with a palm.

“Hey, how about I sing a song for you, huh? How does that sound?” Virgil asks, nervous beyond anything at singing in front of all these people, but Roman seems so ecstatic at the thought that Virgil knows he’ll be going through with it.

“You sing? But you just-” gawks Vincent. Virgil glares at him.

“Don’t act so surprised. And yes, I do. Just didn’t feel like saying it. Totally. When do I go up?”

“After this guy,” Vincent points at the person going on stage, and Virgil steels himself for this experience. It’s okay, you’re the only one who’ll remember. It’ll be fine. Virgil starts walking closer to the stage, Roman hanging on him still. “Hey, dude, are you going to tell me what you’re singing? I’ll set it up for you,”

“I got it. We’re good, right Princey?”

“I’m so good, I’m the best, you’re so nice, gonna sing a song for me-” Roman rambles. Virgil shakes his head good-humoredly, adoring this side of him. Not suave or fanciful at all: only cute. They come to a table right by the stage, miraculously empty and clean.

“Okay, Ro, you wanna sit here and watch?” Roman smiles, nodding quickly, and plops down in one of the chairs. Virgil goes beside him, fanning his confidence by reaching for his large hand. Just like in the car, Roman takes it and squeezes.

“I’m so moved, you’re going to sing something for me! So romantic!” Roman gushes. Virgil blushes, rubbing his thumb on Roman’s sun-kissed hand.

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking. Or any of this stuff… but you’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter. I really really like you, Roman. I’ve known you for a while, so it wasn’t all at once, but you tease me with all of your flirty winks and tell me about how much you get around and today, calling me pretty- you’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice. You never do, and- Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend. I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that. You like- you like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that. Except for today, when I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing. It’ll just be for me. Just for me to remember, for you to enjoy now. You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me. Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Virgil tells him, under the lights and despite the singing in the background. Roman blinks a few times, not understanding.

“I- uhm… I don’t understand, whadda ya mean?” Roman squints at him. Virgil sighs, presses their foreheads together and gets up.

“Doesn’t matter. I only want to say… whatever, it doesn’t matter. It’s my turn to go,” and Virgil pulls away, waving slightly to the confused man, and hunches his shoulders to make him look small as he walks to the center of the stage. Scrolling through the music (it operates sort of like a karaoke machine), Virgil selects a song he knows.

Virgil doesn’t particularly like his singing voice: his mother loves it, would sing along with him during Nightmare Before Christmas, and told him it was very nice. It’s kind of low, gentle, and the words flow into the next.

“The dawn is breaking, a light shining through… you’re barely waking, and I’m tangled up in you,” Virgil sings quietly. It’s awkward, and he can’t look out into the audience at all, and he hears them ignore him. He takes a deep breath, and continues. “I’m open, you’re closed. Where I follow, you’ll go. I worry I won’t see your face light up again,”

People are starting to notice Virgil, as his voice rises, and it’s frightening but also exhilarating. He refuses to make eye-contact with them, unlike Roman who always does, and speaking of him- it’s very clear that Roman’s watching, enraptured. Virgil can practically feel it.

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme- Out of the doubt that fills my mind, I somehow find you and I, collide,” Someone in the crowd whistles, causing Virgil to struggle a bit, but he picks it up right after. He’s imagining that it’s only him and Missy and- Roman. Virgil glances up at Roman barely: he’s awestruck, and it fills Virgil’s heart with glee.

“I’m quiet you know.You make a first impression. But I’ve found I’m scared to know you’re always on my mind,” Virgil messes up the lyrics a bit, but no one notices at all. They’re cheering him on, listening attentively- it helps him go on, return his gaze to the floor.

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the stars refuse to shine, out of the back you fall in time, somehow find, you and I- collide,” Virgil’s voice is still quiet: even as his confidence rises, he can’t seem to raise it at all.

“Don’t stop here. I’ve lost my place. I’m close behind,” Virgil used to sing this song with his parents, when he was young: his mother and father would sing and dance with him. It has sentimental value, it reminds him of childhood and pain and love and survival. They used to sing it to him, comforting him with the words. He knows every one.

“Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the wrong words seem to rhyme. Out of the doubt that fills your mind, you finally find that you and I collide. Finally find that you and I collide. You finally find you and I collide,” the music plays for a while longer, with Virgil humming along rhythmically. When it finally fades out, Virgil scurries off the stage to thunderous applause. It is way too much attention, all at once. On his way, he grabs Roman’s sleeve, dragging him out as people fawn. As they rapidly exit, Vincent calls out from the bar.

“Hey, grump- I don’t sing, my ass! You sing gorgeous! Come back anytime, with or without Roman!” Virgil glares at him, and then he’s out into the parking lot.

“Phew- that was- oh my god, that was exhilarating. Roman? What did… what did you mmfp-” Virgil was smiling until he was cut off by Roman’s lips on his. Virgil moans into it: it’s more decadent than he could have ever imagined. Roman’s lips are deceptively soft and taste like strawberries. He finally moves back for air, and Virgil leans against the car, holding his mouth. Did… did that just happen? It takes a second to register that a) Roman kissed him, and b) that it doesn’t matter because he’s not in his right mind. It’s worth nothing beyond right now… but it means so so much. Virgil will remember this for the rest of his godforsaken life.

“Ro-Roman, what was that for?” Virgil murmurs, touching his lips addictively.

“You’re the kindest guy I’ve ever met. God, I want to take you home. Handsome, and sweet, and caring and a voice of an angel. I wish I met you forever ago,” Roman says, approaching closer to Virgil until he’s pressed up against the car and can feel Roman’s warmth, “Fuck… I don’t even know your name, but you’re… you’re magic,”

“You’re making me seem better than I am, really,” Virgil flushes, feeling all sorts of fuzzy feelings. Roman chuckles, coming in closer to lean his head on Virgil’s shoulders.

“I don’t… I don’t think I am, beautiful… I just- I don’t want to go home alone tonight. I’m so freaking lonely, all the goddamn time. So lonely… it’s only me, and no one really cares, when it comes down to it,” Roman sighs, on the verge of tears. Virgil is dumbfounded: who would have thought? Roman, the Prince of Theatre, who sings songs to children and flirts easily, and never is by himself because he’s a magnet for conversation… is lonely.

“Maybe we can be lonely together,” Virgil whispers aloud, meaning it to be internal but slipping out anyway.

“Can… can we?” Roman pleads, “Please?” Virgil exhales: he’s so cute. Remember though- he’s not going to recall any of this. It hurts, all of a sudden, that Virgil is at once Roman’s world and at the same time an illusion.

“Alright, alright. We’ll see,” Virgil smiles at him. Roman leans down for another kiss, and now Virgil lets him. What’s the harm? I’m the only one who will hurt. I can take it. “I should take you home now, huh? You can’t drive, you’re drunk,”

“Pfft- I am not-”

“You are,” Virgil rolls his eyes, unlocking his car, “Now get in.” Roman shuffles his feet around. Virgil glares.

“In the car, Princey, you have to go home now,” he demands. Roman frowns, looks away stubbornly. And, just like a puppy, he’s adorable but persistent as all hell. Roman murmurs something under his breath, inaudible. Glancing at him kinder, Virgil asks him to speak up.

“I don’t wanna go home, I wanna stay with you,” Roman mumbles, slightly louder. And, Virgil is struck right in the heart. My god, is it even legal to be that cute? Virgil sighs: he should bring Roman to his house, that’s what he had asked before he was intoxicated, and he definitely can’t take advantage of him, but… those eyes are begging for him to stay with him. He can’t refuse.

“Okay, okay, you win. It’s going to be impossible to explain this to you in the morning, but whatever! I’ll drive you to my house,” Virgil agrees, and the look of pure elation on Roman’s face is more than reward enough. Though Virgil has to help Roman’s wobby body into the passenger seat and buckle him up, he can’t stop smiling.

Even as he starts the car to drive it home.

Even as Roman says he’s going to be sick.

Even as he has to rush Roman upstairs to his apartment before he pukes all over the place, Virgil is happy.

Roman hugs Virgil’s middle after he cleans him up. Missy and Roman get along swimmingly, Virgil offering to let him hold her, and Roman enraptured by her. He’s enthralled by Virgil lending him a toothbrush, seemingly blessed by the offering of a piece of toast to calm his stomach at the small kitchen bar. Roman stares at it, sitting on one of the stools.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he wonders. Virgil frowns. Are people usually unkind to you?

“This is normal, Princey. People are supposed to look out for one another,”

“Oh. Yeah,” Roman says to himself. Virgil can’t hold back from reaching over and kissing his forehead.

“Anytime you need, I’ll be nice to you. I don’t mean to be so prickly: it’s a defense mechanism. You only have to tell me you’d like some care, and I’ll give you everything,” Virgil tells him. This charming man, he hiccups and his eyes water as he blubbers. Virgil is good with a lot of things: crying crushes are not one of them. “Hey, no crying, don’t cry! Let’s go to bed, huh? Yeah, that sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Roman makes a pitiful little nod, and Virgil leads him to the bedroom. There’s only one… so either they share, or Virgil’s going to the couch. So, he tucks Roman into the warm black duvet and brushes his forehead as a way of good night. As he goes to leave, Roman grabs onto his arm.

“Stay with me? Please?”

“Ro, I don’t- I don’t think this is a good idea, buddy. No, it’s really not a good idea,” his heartbeat is picking up again, and Virgil bites his lip nervously. Roman ignores it, pulls his hand to kiss it.

“Stay with me, princess,” he purrs. Are you trying to kill me? Roman’s too attractive, too flirtatious. And Virgil’s too head over heels to say no. And that’s how he finds himself sharing his bed with Roman King.

Who fell asleep almost immediately, and snuggled up right into Virgil’s side. So close, that there is a permanent blush on Virgil’s face and his breath on his neck. Okay, this is not going to work. I’m never going to get to sleep if this goes on. Fuck.

Virgil shuffles away, attempting to get out of bed and go sleep on the couch, but Roman slings and arm over him and growls “Stay”.

Well, can’t argue with that, now can I?

~~~~~~

When morning filters through the window, Roman blinks awake. Jiminy Cricket, does his head hurt. Ugh, what happened last night? This isn’t his bed: it’s not colourful at all, all blacks and purples. For goodness sakes, the curtains that are blocking most of the sun have spiders on it. Roman rubs his eyes: did he go home with someone? He must’ve. But who? Roman can’t really recall: he doesn’t remember talking to anyone. After Virgil ran out to the bathroom, Roman just wanted to drink and be alone. Anyone who approached him was turned away instantly by one of his cold stares.

He couldn’t help but feel as though it was sort of his fault: he said he’d be with him. That Roman would leave Virgil alone. And yet… he was in the bathroom for two hours, and not once did Roman gather the courage to go and check on him. And then what? Then he went to some strangers home and left Virgil?

What kind of asshole would do that to someone? Virgil, despite how he acts, is amazingly perceptive. He can tell when something is wrong, it’s why he’s so good as a nurse… he’s just genuinely a good person. And Roman left him?

He can’t imagine he’d do that to the emo, even drunk. He wouldn’t be able to forget Virgil, would he?

No, he really has no clue.

Think, Roman, think- he presses his hands to his pounding head, as if it would squeeze out a memory. All that happens is scraps of a song. Oh great, not only do I have no idea where I am but now there’s a song stuck in my head. Wonderful.

“Even the best fall down sometimes, even the wrong words seem to rhyme-” he murmurs under his breath. Then an image follows right after: a man, holding onto the microphone at the bar, singing the words so soft, so sweetly. It makes his heart pang, it’s so lovely. Is that the guy I went home with? Roman thinks to himself. He focuses harder on the memory. The man, he looks up shyly, nervously, and meets eyes with Roman.

God, he’s fucking beautiful. Love at first sight? Maybe not, but whatever this is, it’s as close to that as it could possibly be. It makes Roman feel all warm and bubbly inside. He bites his lip and looks at the ceiling of this stranger’s bed. Things come back in bits and pieces all out of order; kissing that man by a car, his car- that man laughing at him as he gawks at his, what is that, a spider?- the man sitting at a table in the bar right next to him, letting him nuzzle his shoulder (embarrassing, it makes Roman blush he was so mushy)- a kiss to his forehead to calm him, wiping away drunken tears ever so gently. His hands felt baby-soft, despite the obvious muscular frame he sported.

Who is he…?

“I’ll sing it just for you: you know, I really don’t like public speaking…” in his mind, this man’s voice follows: it’s soft, muted a touch. Focus now, Roman, you’ve almost got it-

“You’re not going to remember me, so I don’t think it’ll matter…” Of course it matters! I’m not a blackout drunk! Roman wants to scream.

“I really really like you, Roman,” his voice, saying such kind words, is like what he’d imagine an angel would sound like. Or some sweet interaction that only comes between A-List celebrities in a scripted movie.

“I’ve known you for a while…” Okay, finally, getting somewhere. He knows him? Does he do tech at the theatre or something? It’s a possibility.

“You’re destroying me, and you don’t even notice…” Well, that’s harsh. Kind makes him feel guilty: this gorgeous meal of a man was lusting over him, and he didn’t even notice? What kind of idiot-

“Janus said that I’d be good for you. Grounding. A good boyfriend…” So he knows the snakey doctor. That can either be very good or very bad: is this fellow a sleazeball? No, Roman assures himself blushing heavily, He’s too sweet to do that. Too kind and loving. Did you see him sing that song? Just for you too- and he looked so nervous! Precious!!

“I don’t know what he sees in me, but clearly you don’t see that…” Roman wants to pull his hair out. Did Roman say or do something wrong? Did he ruin his chances with this Adonis, because if he did, he’ll be furious.

“You like grand gestures, romance, and flirting… I can’t do any of that,” I don’t care! I don’t care about any of that! I just want someone to hold my hand and not treat me like shit! Just a sweet cute guy!

“I’m not nervous anymore, because you’re never going to remember this whole thing,” Ah, sorry to break it to you, but hey, I’m remembering! And I’m going to track you down!

“You’ll never know how much I love you anyway, so it’s just for me…” he sounds melancholy, so very sad, and Roman wants to hold him. Hold him and kiss the top of his head and make him feel better. This person, he doesn’t deserve to be ignored. Why was Roman ever-

“Just for poor heartsick Virgil,” Roman’s mouth runs dry. Virgil? Virgil. He- the man he went with- Virgil. Virgil was singing to him, with that angelic voice, Virgil drove him to his house because he didn’t want to leave him alone and every other little wonderful thing, the forehead kisses and the smiles and the hands- oh my stars, I am an imbecile.

How didn’t he notice? How Virgil would bite back at him whenever he flirted with him teasingly, how Virgil wilted whenever Roman talked about his relationships, how careful and thoughtful he was with every move, hell, he even agreed to go out to the bar with him to find some other guy because he was worried for Roman’s safety.

How was I so blind that I missed the perfect man right in front of my eyes?

And this… this must be Virgil’s house. It’s… very Virgil. Is that a Nightmare Before Christmas poster? Yes, it is- how wonderful. How him.

How didn’t Roman notice? It’s that classic blunder, unseeing of the person right in front of him. How did he not see how romantic Virgil is? Little gestures, smart moves, kindness. Thoughtful. He had said that he wasn’t a romantic, but by Jove- he’s sweet. His mind can’t stop repeating Virgil’s soft singing and his gentleness. God, it’s so beautiful it’s painful. He should tell him to go without makeup more often. And a shirt. Yes, without a shirt sounds good. Undercover buff, much?

His mind swirls with the knowledge of Virgil.

Oh shit- how is he going to face Virgil now? He’s in his house, he’s most likely in the living room: should he just pretend like he doesn’t remember?

Roman’s a good actor, he could pull it off: but Virgil would still be wanting and lonesome. And Roman would know, and that hurts. He won’t do that to him, not anymore.

He should just come out, say that he remembers and... ask him out on a date. A proper one. They both have the day off today, it could be now!

They’d do Virgil things, things that make the emo happy, maybe a zoo or watch movies or coffee shops or whatever. And... Roman will hold his hand, hold him, and hold him and hold him. Yes, yes, this is good.

Roman wishes he had more time to plan. Time to get flowers, or chocolates or anything, really. Wait, you don’t even know if he’ll say yes! Maybe he’s so embarrassed by the whole interaction that-

Wait.

Is that pancakes?

Roman sniffs at the air: yes, it is. Blueberry ones, at that. And coffee. His stomach rumbles, and hunger is enough to spur him out of bed. His legs are wobbly, and his head is swimming, but he makes it out of the room eventually.

“Oh hey, Princey, finally decide to wake from your endless slumber, huh?” Virgil teases. His makeup has returned, as usual. He’s wearing another hoodie, a black one, and it’s hanging off his shoulders as he flips pancakes. Roman’s mouth runs dry. “Also, umm, sorry about not taking you to your apartment. I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Oh... it’s fine,” Roman sounds odd, even to himself, and Virgil gives him a skeptical look. “Heh, anyone who makes me good morning pancakes is alright in my book!”

Virgil snorts, and pushes a plate over the kitchen bar for Roman to sit and eat.

“How’s your head? What do you- you know, never mind,” Virgil ducks his head into the fridge to receive some maple syrup, “You like it warmed?”

“Uh... if it isn’t an issue,” Virgil casts another weird look to Roman: is he being too nice? Roman can’t help it, how could he be rude? He puts his syrup in the microwave, with the long pale fingers.

“I uh- Virgil,” Roman starts, more nervous than anything, “Oh fuck, this is hard but- I uh-”

“You’re making me worried, Princey, spit it out or shut up and eat my food,” Virgil glares. Roman gulps. It’s like a bandaid, rip it off, come on, just spit it out-

“I REMEMBER! I remember everything, I always do after I’m drunk, it’s why I get a buddy, because I always remember in the morning and I hate what I’m like when I’m intoxicated, because I always remember, I think I’ve said that a few times- uh, Virgil, are you okay?” Roman finally looks up at Virgil- or rather down, as the man has crumpled to the floor in a heap. Has he fainted? Roman gets up and squats next to him.

“Virgil?” he whispers into his ear, poking at him. Virgil jolts up, narrowly missing a collision with Roman’s head as he sits up straight. He groans, and puts his head in his hands to try and hide his full-faced blush.

“Fuck, I’m such an idiot, oh my god, I’ve made a total fool of myself- oh god, please just leave me alone to die, Roman, just go,” he yells. Roman chuckles, and peels Virgil’s hands from his face. He seems about to cry, moisture glistening at his eyes. Roman’s heart can’t take it: he thinks he looks foolish? No, never.

Roman kisses the corners of his eyes.

“You’re not an idiot, you’re most certainly not a fool. I’m sorry I didn’t notice you before at the office. I’m the only idiot between the two of us, because I didn’t see how wonderful you were until you had to be blatant about it. I’m so very sorry, and in your debt. I feel silly to even try and ask, but would you… perchance, want a real date? One where I’m not flirting with other people- only with you, you Incredible Sulk,” Roman consoles Virgil pulling him into an embrace.

“Really?” Virgil asks.

“Honestly,”

“Then yeah, yeah, that sounds okay. I uh… I don’t do a whole lot so-” Roman cuts Virgil off by pressing his finger to his lips. Virgil raises his eyebrows.

“How’s right this second sound?”

“Yeah- uhm, that works for me-”

“Fantastic! And I believe your pancakes are burning,” Roman notes, laughing as Virgil shoots up cursing colourfully as he discards a very black pancake. Even as the man squawks and yells and forces Roman back into his seat, he can’t help but feel fulfilled. After the pancake fiasco is remedied, Virgil breathes a sigh of relief and smiles at Roman.

“Sorry about that, Princey,”

“Hey, it’s no problem for me! Kind of entertaining, actually,” Roman snickers, earning him a slap upside the head. And then, just to push Virgil’s buttons, he snakes his hand through his dark locks and kisses him deeply over the counter. It’s a knee-shaking kiss, a heart-stopper, a signature Roman smooch. One he should’ve given Virgil last night, but was too drunk to make happen. It seems like Virgil likes it too, if the noises are any indication. Virgil is the first to pull back for air, and presses his chest, gasping.

“Oh my goodness, was that too much? Are you okay, Virgil?” Roman frets. Virgil, he recalls, has some sort of horrible cocktail of medical issues. Most he’s grown out of, but the effects still linger.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s cool. Hah, my heart’s still beating. It’s stopped once before, and I have a defibrillator in my room but- I’m okay. I guess that just means I’m fragile, right? Gotta be careful with my heart, both ways, alright?” A still beating heart. How romantic, how delightful.

“Now you must stay with me, so I can restart your heart whenever it’s required!” Roman announces. Virgil rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite his small smile, then returns to finishing off the end of his pancake batter. Roman pokes his bicep, his deceptively strong bicep, to pester him into an answer. Virgil catches it, squeezes.

“Hey! My heart’s still beating, you’re going to have to try harder,” he teases. It has to be the most lovely seductive challenge he’s ever been issued. And you said you weren’t a romantic.

His heart still beats, and it beats just as hard for Roman as the other way around.

How positively lovely.

~~~~

And from that day on, the entire pediatric office would all go out once a month to a particular bar’s karaoke night, and Roman and Virgil would sing many songs but always one. They always sang one at the end, and it was so beautiful that people cry every time. It’s longing and love and acceptance.

They like to hold hands while they do it, perhaps to show off their relationship… or maybe just the matching rings that adorn their fingers.

~~~~~

The End! Thanks for reading!

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

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Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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weathergirl8 · 3 years

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Master of Deflection - Part 2

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and I’ve always had Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fuzzy feeling was the first sensation he felt as consciousness welcomed him. Turning to look at the clock on his nightstand, Alan sighed as 8:00 glared back at him. Throwing his back against his bed, the teen groaned quietly. He felt like he had just fallen asleep.

Forcing himself up, Alan sniffled as he noticed his nose was a little runny and his throat felt a little scratchy. Reaching for a tissue, he blew his nose without a second thought. “Maybe my morning run will help clear this fog,” he whispered to himself and quickly dressed into his running clothes.

Alan entered the kitchen and smiled at his father. “Hey, Dad.”

“Morning, Alan,” Jeff greeted as he took a drink of his coffee. “Late night last night. I’m surprised to see you up. I think you’ve beaten all of your brothers.”

“Wow. Been ages since I’ve beaten Scott up,” Alan said as he grabbed a bottle of orange juice and a breakfast bar. “I slept straight through and wanted to catch a run. I’m sure they’ll be down by the time I get back.”

“Well, John said things are quiet,” Jeff smiled. “I think you’re safe to enjoy your run without interruption, son.”

“Thanks, Dad. See you in a bit,” Alan nodded as he took one last bite of his bar.

Jeff watched as Alan made his way down the deck, vanishing into the trees along the path that led to the beach. He smiled as he allowed memories of nostalgia to fill him. Where had the time gone?

“What’s got you so happy this morning, Dad?”

Jeff turned to see his second youngest before him. “Just your younger brother continues to surprise me.”

“What’d the squirt do this time?” Gordon asked curiously as he took a drink.

“Nothing worth sharing,” Jeff sighed. “Going for a swim?” he asked as he noted the redhead’s attire.

“Of course,” Gordon beamed as he slung his towel over his shoulder. “Best physio after such a tough rescue yesterday.”

“You feeling okay, otherwise?” Jeff asked worriedly.

“Back is fine, Dad. I promise. A little stiff, but nothing to worry about. The pool always does the trick,” Gordon winked and headed for the pool. “Headed to the office?” the redhead paused at the door.

“Yes,” Jeff said. “John and I are going to go over the rescue last night. It was a straight forward mission, so I don’t think it’ll be necessary to have everyone there this time. Let you boys unwind a little while we can.”

“Thanks, Dad. We appreciate it. See you later,” Gordon smiled and headed to the pool.

Jeff chuckled at Gordon before heading up the stairs to call John. The plan was to talk about the mission, but the patriarch hoped to let John unwind as well. He knew just the topic to do so.

-TB-

Alan jogged along the sand, each step feeling weighted as he pushed himself toward the next mile. The blonde reduced to a walk as he slowed his breathing. He allowed his mind to wander as he watched the waves crash along the cliffside near the north side of the beach.

Taking a seat in the warm sand, Alan sighed. Apparently, today was going to be a struggle. Running was not proving to be the stress relief that usually worked for him. Today he felt off. His body felt sluggish and tired. Usually, the morning air he inhaled from his runs would wake him up.

Not today.

Placing his head in his hands, he groaned. The sensation made him realize his head was beginning to pound. All the feelings of an incoming headache becoming clear.

“I guess a run isn’t in the cards either.”

Forcing himself up from the sand, Alan made his way back toward the villa. He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping it would help ease the tension he was feeling but felt no relief. All the blonde wanted was meds and his bed again. The first thing he had to do was avoid his nosey older brothers.

“Hey!”

Alan jumped as he turned to see Gordon climbing out of the pool, the jolt sending a small pulse through his head.

“Hey, are you okay?” the swimmer’s concerned voice asked as he got closer.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Just a headache. Once I take something, it’ll go away.”

Gordon eyed Alan with uncertainly. “Are you sure? You look tired and a little pale.”

“Don’t we all,” Alan joked. “It was a late night.”

“Point taken, little brother. Go get something for that head before the smother hens descend.”

“If you need me, I’ll be hiding in my room,” Alan said but looked around cautiously. “That’s between you and me. I don’t need them hunting me down.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Gordon saluted. “I’ll check on you later.”

“Thanks, Gordo,” Alan replied in appreciation and made his way back into the house. He quietly skirted past his father’s office, where he could hear the voices of his father, Scott, John, and Virgil.

Pushing his door open, he quietly shut it and took in a sigh of relief. The eighteen-year-old couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. He felt like he was ten again sneaking food from the kitchen.

His head pounded once more, quickly reminding him why he needed to be so stealthy. Alan walked into his bathroom and opened a storage drawer. His blue eyes immediately latching onto the meds he needed, ever thankful he had a stash for such occasions.

Grabbing a couple of the pills, he made his way to his nightstand as he opened a new water bottle. Downing the drugs and several gulps of water, Alan laid back on his bed, allowing his eyes to close for a few seconds…. Just a few….

“Alan!” somebody shook him.

Alan opened his groggy eyes, puzzled. “Alan?” Scott called, concerned. Where had Scott come from?

Scott placed a soothing arm along Alan’s shoulder. “Allie, you with me?”

“Scott, what?” Alan asked, confused. He just closed his eyes, hadn’t he?

“Hey, buddy,” Scott smiled, but the worry was visible across his features. “You missed lunch. Gordon said you had a headache and to leave you be, but it’s not like you to sleep the day away. Are you feeling okay?”

Alan slowly pushed himself up from his bed and leaned against his headboard. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m okay.”

Scott watched him suspiciously. “I don’t know, Allie. You look kind of pale. Maybe Virgil should check you o-“

The emergency klaxon blared across their watches and the house, immediately stealing the words from Scott’s mouth.

Scott stood but looked back at his baby brother with concern once more as the teen moved slowly from the bed. “Alan, maybe you should sit this one out.”

“I’m fine, Scott,” Alan said, shoving his eldest brother out of the way and rushing toward command and control.

“Alan….” Scott continued behind him.

“Scott, I’m fine! I’m only tired from our late night, and my headache caught me off guard. I’m good now,” Alan uttered in frustration. “Just drop it, okay.”

“Alright, but if you start feeling unwell, you better say something,” Scott ordered as they entered the command room.

Alan’s only response was a dangerous glare toward his oldest sibling.

“What do we have, John?” Jeff asked as he met his second eldest’s image before him.

“Northwest Passage just north of Alaska. A cargo ship carrying metallurgical coal has run into trouble. Coast Guard is unable to assist due to another ship underrun,” John reported.

“Is Thunderbird 4 needed?”

“Affirmative, but it is rough seas as an early winter storm has ravaged the area. They’re hoping we can repair the ship,” John added, a layer of annoyance seeping through his voice. “I explained we are more interested in human lives than the precious cargo.”

Jeff smirked in understanding. “F.A.B. Notify the crew we are on our way. Alan and Gordon, you’re with Virgil, and I’m riding with you boys this time. This mission looks like it will require all hands on deck.”

“F.A.B,” his sons each echoed.

Nodding to Brains, Jeff stood inside his portrait. “Thunderbirds Are Go!”

-TB-

Thunderbird 4 dipped into the rocky water with ease. The yellow sub was heading straight for the penetrated ship’s underbelly. “What do you see Thunderbird Four?” Jeff’s voice spoke in Gordon’s ear. Gordon had been sent to investigate the ship's damage while Virgil and Alan went aboard the vessel to persuade the workers onto the rescue platform.

Gordon whistled as his ‘bird’s light illuminated the damage. A large, jagged hole stretched at least a foot of the ship’s belly. “I’m good, but not that good, Thunderbird Two. The damage is too extensive. She’s a lost cause.”

“F.A.B. John notify the Captain it’s time to abandon the ship. Scott, see if you can help steady the ship with a line and coordinate with John. Virgil, Alan, get those workers aboard before she sinks,” Jeff ordered. “Gordon, see if you can help slow the process. Any time you can buy us will be an immense help.”

“F.A.B, Thunderbird 2,” Gordon responded and began analyzing his situation. This was going to be fun...

-TB-

“Sir, I understand your frustration, but there is nothing more we can do for your ship. You must disembark. Your ship will sink,” John explained, trying to hold in his frustration.

“That is unacceptable!” Captain Sterns yelled. “You’re International Rescue. You’re supposed to be able to do anything!”

John looked pointedly at the image of his older brother to the left of him. When the man refused to accept John’s words, the field commander joined the line providing support for his space-bound brother. “We appreciate that sentiment, Captain, but even we have our limits,” Scott responded, taking a deep breath.

“I have a shipment full of coal that my boss is expecting to arrive in Europe. What am I supposed to tell him? I can’t just leave it!”

“I’m afraid that’s exactly what you’re going to have to do. Your crew’s lives are more important,” Scott demanded.

“I can’t!” the Captain’s voice shouted across the line once more. “I’ll be fired!”

“We can’t work miracles!” Scott screamed back.

“Scott!” John admonished. “Captain Sterns, with all due respect, you are running out of time. Our operative in Thunderbird Four is currently trying to give us more time, but even that won’t be much. You must get your men off that ship now! For the sake of their lives and our operatives who are risking their lives to save yours. You must see reason in that.”

“You called us for help,” Scott added, finding his calm. “Please let us do our job.”

The Captain remained silent on the line before emitting a long sigh. “Fine, we will leave.”

“Thank you, Captain,” John acknowledged. “We will begin to load your men aboard our craft immediately. Please make your way to the deck now. Our operatives will be waiting for you.”

“Understood,” Captain Sterns responded and closed the line.

John quickly turned back to the image of his older brother before him. “What the hell, Scott! What was that?”

“I’m sorry, John. I shouldn’t have lost it like that.”

“You’re just lucky Dad wasn’t on the line,” John said, shaking his head. “I better report to him. I’ll be sure to keep your incident out of the conversation.”

Scott nodded in appreciation. “Thanks, John.”

“You owe me,” the blonde exhaled.

“I know. Just add it to my list.”

-TB-

Alan helped Virgil load another round onto the rescue platform as a burst of cold water surrounded them. “Go! I’ll stay down here with them,” he yelled across the com as the boat swayed side to side.

Virgil hesitated but nodded as he shut the door to the platform and initiated the mechanism that rose them into the belly of Thunderbird 2. Once aboard the green Thunderbird, Virgil led them to the safety of the cargo hold. He provided thermal blankets to those who needed them before heading back to the platform for what he hoped was the last round of crew members.

The sea was anything but a friend right now. Fierce northerly crisp winds sliced across the area, each new gust rocking the doomed ship at a sickening pace. Each minute the engineer could tell the ship was sinking lower and lower into the ocean.

Heading back down the platform, he watched Alan as he helped a crew member up who had fallen on the floor deck as another wave violently splashed aboard. Fifteen crew members were remaining, including the somewhat disgruntled Captain.

The rescue platform came to a halt. Virgil opened the door and nodded to Alan. “Alright, let’s get the last of you on here, and we’ll have you warm and secure.”

Most of the crew members were agreeable. They were cold and tired and ready to be anywhere else. Captain Sterns, however, continued to hope they could help him transport part of his shipment.

“Sir, we must go.” Virgil heard Alan tell the older man, who reluctantly climbed aboard the platform. Virgil patted Alan along the back as he helped his baby brother into the platform and lifted them toward Thunderbird 2.

“You’re soaked, kiddo,” Virgil said, nudging his little brother.

“Yea,” Alan sighed as he noticed the water collecting around his boots. “You’re not much better.”

“We’ll have to change once we have the passengers secured,” Virgil realized. “Don’t need either one of us catching a cold, huh?”

Alan smiled but didn’t respond as the bay door sealed below them. Stepping forward, the youngest Tracy opened the gate to the platform and helped escort the remaining crew to the holding area while Virgil informed their father they were secure.

Captain Sterns grabbed his arm as the teen prepared to head toward his brother. “Kid, there’s plenty of room to store a few loads of my shipment. It’ll only take us a few minutes to load it onto your platform. It’ll be easy, I promise.”

Alan shook his head, trying to hide his dislike for the man. The guy didn’t know how to take no for an answer. “Sir, we can’t do that. Now, please just take a seat, and we’ll arrive in Prudhoe Bay in no time.”

Captain Sterns clenched his fists in anger and reached inside his jacket. Before Alan knew it, he felt the cold metal of a gun forced against his back, as the Captain grabbed his left arm forcefully. “We aren’t leaving without it. My life depends on it and now so does yours.”

TBC…

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds 2004 #thunderbirds fanfic #alan tracy #gordon tracy #jeff tracy #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #writing #my writing #fanfic #part 2

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sanderssides-springfling · 4 years

Text

hello! this gift is for @sanderssnoots! i had. so much with this ngl, may have gone a little overboard but aaa. i tried to incorporate all three of the prompts and hopefully this turned out ok haha. i really hope you enjoy this dude ^^

summary: after moving to a new school in an old city, virgil meets remus, a particularly attractive fellow who seems familiar somehow...

TW: Panic attack, Remus, threats, homophobia, curing

"Breathe for me," a muffled voice said.

Virgil closed his eyes, wishing for everything to just stop.

"C'mon, count with me," the voice said, clearer now. It was soothing, calming, real. Not like the other voices Virgil was hearing.

The voice began to count and Virgil attempted to copy it in his head. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Wait. He knew these numbers. He was supposed to breath, wasn't he? That's what the voice had told him to do.

He continued to count and tried to get a steady breathing pattern whilst doing so. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. In. Hold. Out. In. Out.

He opened his eyes and his big brother was there besides him. Virgil collapsed into Remy, burying his head in his chest and breathing softly. Remy gently wrapped his arms around Virgil, circling his hands over his back in a comforting pattern.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Remy asked.

Virgil shook his head.

"Was it school again?"

Virgil did nothing, seemingly indicating to Remy that it was indeed school.

"It's okay, Virge. You'll be out of there soon."

~*~

Virgil leant his head against the window, feeling the vibrations as the car sped down the road. They were moving, finally. Moving to a new city - or an old city, really, back to where Virgil had grown up. He guessed that his family finally realised that things in their new city weren't going great, or maybe things weren't going great for them. Either way, Virgil was more than happy to be returning to his real home.

He glanced over at Remy, unable to decipher whether he was sleeping or not - despite it being close to midnight and not even summertime, Remy was still wearing his sunglasses. But Virgil noticed the side of Remy's lips tip up into a sort of smirk, so he assumed that his older brother was awake, and watching him.

The street lights blurred in front of him, casting neon lights into the air. It wouldn't be long until they were at the new house, and then soon after a new school, and maybe everything would go back to normal.

~*~

Virgil peeked into the classroom, glancing around to find the least threatening person there. It was half way through the year, so he imagined that there wouldn't be many options anyway, but he could try.

Somebody barged past him, causing him to stumble to the side. After that, he was pushed into the classroom by whoever followed, and forced to stand awkwardly at the front. Brilliant.

"Hey," a voice said from the front row, "are you lost?”

Virgil glanced down at the person sat there, trying not to show them any emotion. "No, I..."

"Oh, are you new?" they asked.

Virgil nodded.

"You can sit with me," they said, patting the seat next to them. "My desk-mate just left."

Not wanting to argue any further, Virgil quickly took the seat besides them. He let out a breath. Front row seat wasn't... ideal, but at least he wasn't intruding on somebody else. This person had wanted him to sit with them, right?

"I'm Patton," they introduced, grinning at Virgil.

Virgil offered a small smile back. "Virgil."

"Oh! My friend Logan always goes on about a poet with that name-"

Patton went on to talk to Virgil about their friends, and about the school, and Virgil allowed himself to kick back and listen. He supposed they already had their own friends, their own life, and that was fine - Virgil wasn't really planning on making loads of friends, only planning to not make a complete fool of himself and end up making loads of enemies. And maybe Patton couldn't help with the friend situation, but they could certainly protect him for a little longer, at least for this hour...

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind you sitting with us for lunch, either," Patton said.

Virgil blinked. What? "Really?"

"Of course! Unless you have other friends, that is."

"I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You won't be intruding," Patton said, laughing. "I'd certainly be happy to have another friend around!"

Christ. This person was too friendly for their own good.

"Alright, then," Virgil said anyway, "thanks."

Patton grinned. "No problem!"

~*~

Virgil threw his backpack to the floor as he entered his new house, stepping into the living room only to be ambushed by Remy and tackled onto the sofa. For a moment, his body went into shock, before his reflexes kicked in and he kicked Remy off the sofa.

"Hey!" Remy protested.

Virgil stared at him, mouth open wide. "You're the one who tackled me onto the sofa!"

"You didn't have to kick me, though!" Remy scrambled back to his feet and sat on the sofa besides Virgil.

"That kick was utterly deserved," Virgil said, determinedly.

Remy sighed. "Well. Maybe you're right."

Virgil smirked. "Of course I'm right."

"How was school?" Remy asked, immediately changing the conversation.

Virgil shrugged. "Okay. Better, I think."

"Made any friends?"

"Kinda?" Virgil hummed. "Sat with a couple people at lunch. One's in my classes - Patton, their name is."

"Patton?" Remy considered that for a moment. "Sounds nice."

"Yeah." Virgil leant back. "You?"

"Oh, you know me," Remy said. "I'm already the most popular guy in my year."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "As if. Tell me the truth."

Remy looked kindly offended. "Hey! I'm good at socialising!"

Virgil raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Okay, maybe I'm a bit of a disaster," Remy admitted. "But! I did meet up with some friends from before and I think I'll be able to reconnect with them."

"Oh! That's good!" Remy's life really was well more put together than Virgil's. He'd managed to stay in contact with his friends from before, something that Virgil had tried but ultimately failed to do. Of course, it would have helped if he had any good friends from before, or even just somebody who did more than just tolerate him. But it was whatever. Most people probably didn't recognise him now, let alone remember him.

"Well," Remy said, "maybe you can invite some of those new friends round."

Virgil laughed.

"What? I'm being serious!"

"I barely know them!" Virgil argued. "We're not on inviting-each-other-to-our-houses terms yet."

"Mom and Dad would get a kick out of it, though."

"They don't care," Virgil said. "As long as I'm emotionally stable, they won't care. Or, like, not on the verge of a breakdown."

Remy ruffled Virgil's hair. "They do care! I care, at least." He smiled. "I wanna meet them!"

"Absolutely not." Virgil crossed his arms.

Remy groaned. "Fine! I'll find them, though."

"How are you gonna do that?"

"I have connections."

"Like what?"

"I just made friends with this guy called Roman," Remy said. "He knows everybody."

Virgil giggled. "Well, good luck, then." He stood up. "Don't come in my room."

"You can't stop me!"

"I can!" He retreated upstairs.

~*~

Virgil glanced at a guy from the other side of the cafeteria. He had bleached blonde hair with the tips dyed a neon green, and wore a black denim jacket covered in band patches and pin badges. And Virgil couldn't stop staring at him.

"Who's that?" Virgil asked, turning to Patton. He had been sitting with them for a few days now, and was beginning to get the courage to actually talk to him.

Patton frowned. "Who?"

"Him," Virgil said, pointing to the guy and leaning in to Patton.

For a moment, Patton stared at the person too, before biting his lip. "Don't talk to him."

Virgil blinked. "Why?"

"That's Remus," Patton said. "Logan knows his brother. He, uh, well..." Patton hummed. "He's probably a nice person, but Logan's heard that he gets up to some... stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Virgil wondered.

"Stuff that I probably shouldn't talk about in school," Patton said. "Just... I'd stay away from him, if I were you."

Virgil glanced down to the table, not really sure what to make of that. On the one hand, he somewhat trusted Patton, at least enough to believe their judgement, but on the other hand the guy didn't seem so bad. He looked like somebody that Virgil would get along with. Maybe someone he could get some fashion tips from.

But if Patton said he was bad, then maybe Virgil should listen. He had friends now, anyway. Things were gonna be okay.

~*~

"Hey," a person said, sitting down next to Virgil in the library. Virgil glanced at the newcomer, looking them up and down. They wore somewhat simple clothes - plain yellow t-shirt, black jacket, and a black beanie covering their natural blonde hair. Virgil noticed a few pin badges stuck to their jacket, including the bi flag and the nonbinary flag. He couldn't seem to stop staring at their eyes - one a light brown and the other a sickening shade of green.

"Hi?" Virgil whispered back, just slightly uncomfortable.

"You can call me D," they said, simply.

"...okay?"

"I saw you staring at Remus last week," D continued.

Virgil blinked. "Oh."

"If you have a problem with him, then that goes through me, okay?"

Virgil frowned. "I don't have a problem with him."

D glared at him. "Why else would you be staring at him?"

"I..." Virgil shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't mean to. I just liked his jacket."

D didn't seem to know what to make of that. "Oh. So... you're cool with him?"

"I guess?" Virgil looked away. "I mean, I don't know him, exactly. But I have no reason to dislike him."

D hummed. "You're friends with Patton, right?"

"Kinda?" Virgil tapped his fingers on the table. "I've been sitting with them. They haven't been mean to me."

"Huh." D sighed. "Well, whatever." They stood up. "Stay away from Remus. You made him kinda uncomfortable."

Before Virgil had a chance to ask what D meant, let alone say goodbye, they were gone again.

~*~

Virgil walked into the kitchen to find his brother and... another person burning some pancakes. He didn't recognise the other person, but assumed he was in the same year as Remy. He wore a floor length red dress and an almost perfect smile on his face, despite the fact that the stove was very nearly on fire.

"Jesus Christ, Remy turn the heat down," Virgil said, rushing over to the stove and turning the heat down. "You're gonna burn down the house."

"No we’re not," the guest said. "If we cook at a higher temperature than the recipe says, the pancakes will be done quicker."

Virgil breathed in, deeply. "That- That isn't how cooking works."

"Of course it is!"

"Sorry, Virge," Remy said, taking the pan off the stove and turning it off completely. The pancake - or, at least, what could loosely be described as a pancake - was burnt to a crisp. "Roman and I were curious."

Virgil hummed. "Roman?"

"My friend," Remy said, grinning.

"He seems like a bad influence."

"Hey!" Roman exclaimed, looking highly offended. Virgil smirked a little, as it reminded him of his own brother.

"Who taught you how to cook?" Virgil asked.

"I did," Roman said, proudly.

Virgil snorted. "Well. Maybe get some actual lessons." He sighed. "I'll make the pancakes. You two stay far away from the stove."

Apparently not wanting to argue any further, Remy and Roman retreated to the table, whilst Virgil took over cooking, throwing out the burnt pancake and starting to make a fresh one. As he cooked, he half-listened to the conversation behind him, not really paying attention until-

"-my brother, Remus-"

"Remus?" Virgil repeated, glancing back.

Roman stared back at him. "Do you know him?"

Virgil hesitated. "We, uh, assuming we're talking about the same Remus, I haven't spoken to him, but I've heard about it, and seen him around..."

He put the final pancake onto the pile and moved them to the kitchen table, moving to grab three plates and a few toppings for the three of them to eat.

"Remus would probably like you," Roman said. "From what I've heard from Remy at least, it sounds like you two have a lot in common."

Frowning, Virgil replied, "Really?" He dragged a pancake onto his plate and drowned it in maple syrup.

"I mean, you listen to a lot of the same music," Roman said, shrugging. "He likes horror games. He dabbles in stage makeup."

"I don't dabble in stage makeup," Virgil said, noticeably not disagreeing with the rest.

"Oh my God, Roman, you should have seen him when he was fourteen," Remy said, leaning over the table closer to Roman. "I swear to God, I've never seen somebody wear so much eyeliner-"

"Shut up," Virgil said through gritted teeth.

"Honestly," Remy continued, "I don't think he's ever fully come out of his emo phase, but at least he's learned how much eyeliner is generally acceptable."

"I'm right here, you know."

"Oh! You should've seen Remus a couple years ago!" Roman chuckled. "He was very much falling with the eyeliner as well. And everything else. I had to teach him everything just so he wouldn't go out looking like a complete idiot."

Remy asked. "Wait, maybe you could give Virgil some tips!"

"I don't need any tips," Virgil said, dragging the plate of pancakes closer to himself so the other two would find it harder to reach them - a tiny act of revenge.

"Oh my God, I'd actually be so down to teach him, though! I could go through some cool eyeshadow stuff, like different colours and stuff, Remus and I did some pride flag ones a couple years ago when we went to a parade-"

Virgil stood up. "Okay, I guess I'll leave since you guys already think I'm not in the room." He made his way back to his bedroom, taking the plate of pancakes with him.

~*~

Virgil couldn't stop staring at Remus. He seemed to see him every single day, always walking in the same places, almost as if they were following each other. And Remus never caught him staring, but sometimes Virgil felt like he was staring back, even if Virgil himself couldn't see him in the area.

Patton and Logan stopped taking notice. For a while, they would ask Virgil about it, continuously warning him that Remus wouldn't be good for him. But soon they stopped. Maybe they realised that Virgil wouldn't stop.

And despite the fact that the two had never interacted, Virgil found himself completely obsessed with Remus. It almost scared him.

One day in Spring, a month or so after Virgil joined the school, he was standing alone in the hallway, waiting for Patton to leave their class, when somebody bumped into his shoulder. Adrenaline immediately kicked in as his brain told him that it was going to be exactly the same as last time, that the safety he was beginning to feel at this new school had been shattered, but then he saw who it was and he froze.

Remus stood a few steps away from Virgil, glancing back and smirking. He began to slowly walk down the hallway, glancing back every few seconds, almost as if he was expecting Virgil to follow.

He did. Virgil stalked behind him, still a few metres away. Remus sped up, and Virgil copied, following him until they had made it out of the school and round the corner, to a small garden behind the school. Remus sat down on a bench and looked Virgil in the eyes, patting the seat besides him. Frowning, Virgil went over and sat down.

"Hey," Remus said. "What's your name?"

Virgil blinked. "Uh, Virgil."

"Virgil," Remus whispered. "Huh. Roman mentioned a Virgil..."

"He- what?"

"Oh, nothing." Remus hummed. "Have you been following me?"

"What?"

"I see you everywhere," Remus said. "D has, too. They were starting to get concerned-"

Virgil glanced down. "D spoke to me ages ago. They told me to stay away from you."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did they? And yet you still continued to follow me everywhere?"

"I haven't been following you," Virgil said, truthfully. "I actually thought you were following me."

Remus laughed.

Virgil frowned. "What's funny about that?"

"Well, other than the fact that it is a tiny bit true, I just think it's funny that we both thought we had stalkers."

"I didn't think you were stalking me," Virgil said.

To that, Remus just smirked at him. Virgil tried his best to avoid his gaze.

"I know you from somewhere," Remus claimed.

Virgil fiddled with his fingers. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He hummed. "I can't... I've been trying to figure it out but can't for the life of me. You are new at this school, right? Like, you weren't just hiding?”

Virgil breathed in. "I'm new. But I lived in this city when I was younger."

Remus' eyes widened. "Wait, shit, are you Virgil Sanders."

Virgil glanced at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm Remus Prince," Remus said.

Virgil blinked. "Okay?"

"We... You went to Saint John's Elementary School, right?"

Virgil's eyes widened. "Wait, Duke?"

Remus held his arms out. "The one and only."

"Oh my God!" That's why Virgil couldn't stop staring at Remus. They were... God, Remus was...

~*~

Virgil didn't have many friends back in Elementary School. Well, he didn't have many friends period, but at least in Elementary School he had the fantasy gang.

He wasn't exactly friends with anyone in the fantasy gang. They would just play together during the breaks. He wasn't even sure on all of their names - none of them were in his classes, so he only ever spent around twenty minutes with them every day.

There weren't a lot of them. There was Virgil, playing the Knight, and the others - the Princess, the Dragon, the Queen and the King.

And then there was the only one that Virgil was particularly close to - the Duke.

In the fantasy world the six of them had created, him and the Duke spent a lot of time together, as both of them set off on the quest to save the Princess. They would often fight the Dragon side by side, and during scenes with just the royals they would both sit to the side and chat, with no real reason for them to join in on the action.

He remembered that the Duke liked swinging on the trees. There was one tree in the corner of the playground which had branches low enough to climb, so the Duke would make his way up there and hang upside, mostly just to make Virgil laugh. Maybe he realised that things weren't going great for Virgil, and that by doing that Virgil would gain a tiny bit of happiness. To be fair, it worked. Virgil himself never wanted to climb the tree, for fear that he might fall down, but that was fine - he enjoyed sitting at the bottom and watching the Duke from afar.

They never talked much about themselves, but sometimes Remus would mention his older brother, and Virgil would talk about his older brother too. A lot of the time, though, they'd just sit together under the tree as they watched the rest of the fantasy gang play, waiting for their own turn.

One day Remus leant his head on Virgil's shoulder, and that was the day that Virgil realised he had made a friend.

~*~

"We have a problem," Roman said, shoving Remy's school books out the way and sitting on the desk in front of him.

Remy looked up, looking slightly annoyed. "I was doing that, y'know."

"Okay, but I have tea," Roman said.

Remy immediately refocused his attention onto Roman. "Spill. Now."

"My brother has a crush," Roman began.

Remy hummed. "Yeah, not surprising."

"On your brother."

Remy slammed his hands on the table. "No way."

"Yes, way." Roman grinned. "Remus and Virgil are in love and they're both too dumb to realise it."

"How do you know?" Remy asked.

"I'm an expert on romance, obviously."

Remy rolled his eyes. "Seriously. Has Remus said anything?"

"Well, no, not exactly, but-"

"We've gotta be sure," Remy interrupted. "I wouldn't... Virgil's already been through so much."

"I'm sure that Remus likes him. He won't shut up about him," Roman said. "I was reading some of his writing the other day, and I swear to God one of the characters in it was some sort of fictional version of Virgil. The love interest, as well."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Your brother writes?"

"He does murder mysteries," Roman quickly said. "He doesn't really like me reading them, but he's always stealing my sketchbook so he can't really say anything." He breathed in. "Anyway, I'm certain that Remus is into Virgil."

Remy hummed. "I'm not sure if Virgil is, though."

"No, he definitely is," Roman said. "I have a friend - well, not really ‘friend’, but we're in the same theatre company. His name's Logan. And he's also friends with Virgil, I think..."

Remy nodded. "Yeah, Virge mentioned a Logan at one point."

"Right. Well, I was talking to Logan, and he told me that Virgil is always staring at Remus. Like, an unhealthy amount." Roman sighed. "I'm just... why else would Virgil be staring at Remus?"

Remy pursed his lips. "We should set them up."

Roman gasped. "Oh my God, yes!"

"I don't know how, though. Convincing Virgil to leave the house would be a nightmare."

Roman smirked. "I have an idea."

~*~

He was in his kitchen. Why the fuck was Remus in his kitchen?

"Oh, hey Virge," Remus said, ignoring Virgil's puzzled expression as he raided the fridge.

"Who let you in my house?"

"Oh, my brother is hanging out with your brother and I'm not allowed to be in the house by myself," Remus said, as he took out a salad - Virgil's salad that he was saving for later - and began to eat it.

"And now you're stealing my salad," Virgil sighed.

Remus blinked. "Oh, shit, is this yours?" he asked, shoving it towards Virgil.

"Well." Virgil smacked his lips together. "It was. But I can make another." He climbed onto the table and sat on it cross legged, as Remus took a chair and placed the salad in front of him. "So. Why aren't you allowed to be home alone?"

"That's... a long story."

Virgil shrugged. "I'm not doing anything."

Remus eyes lit up. "Well. I'd imagine it has something to do with that time I almost burnt the house down trying to find out what would happen if I put eggs into the microwave."

Virgil blinked. "How- How did you almost burn the house down doing that-"

Remus grinned. "Well, the microwave exploded 'cause I put, like, ten eggs in there, and then it set fire to the curtains in the kitchen, and long story short, the fire engines didn't take long to arrive."

Virgil breathed in. "Was everything okay?"

"Yeah, it was fine. The curtains are just a little scarred." He hummed. "Although, it could also have something to do with the fact that I attempted a blood sacrifice in the living room..."

"You what?" Virgil exclaimed.

Remus laughed. "I was, like, ten, okay? And I didn't get very far. I found a dead rat in the street and thought that if I used that as a sacrifice I could summon a demon, which would be so cool, y'know?"

Virgil chuckled. "I mean, I guess that would be cool."

"Right?" Remus shook his head. "My parents, however, did not think it was cool."

For a moment, the two just stared at each other, smiling softly, because Virgil finally said, "I missed you, y'know?"

Remus blinked. "Huh?"

"When we... Well, you were just about my only friend," Virgil said. "And I know we didn't hang out much, but we always had such a good time."

Remus smiled. "Yeah. The fantasy gang was great."

"I didn't care about the rest of them," Virgil said. “Just... Just you."

Remus fell silent. "Oh."

"And when we did move away, I didn't really have anyone else. I mean, I had Remy, but..." He glanced down, fixing his eyes on the table.

"Did you... not make any new friends?" Remus wondered.

Virgil plastered on a smile. "I've never been one for new people."

Remus hummed. "You made friends with Patton pretty quickly, though."

"They didn't really give me much of a choice." Virgil sighed. "Things... weren't great at the new school. I mean, they weren't brilliant back when we were friends, but... at least we were friends."

Remus smiled, staring at Virgil for a moment longer with fondness in his eyes. "How come you didn't speak to me sooner?"

Virgil blinked. "What?"

"I mean, you saw me weeks ago, right?" Remus said. "Like, you could've spoken to me then."

"I wanted to," Virgil admitted. "Not because I recognised you, but because... I don't know. I felt drawn to you, I guess." He fiddled with his fingers. "But Patton told me not too. And then D told me to stay away from you. So..."

Remus reached over and grabbed Virgil's hands, squeezing them a little too tight, but Virgil didn't protest. "Don't listen to them. I... felt drawn to you too, I guess. I still do."

Virgil smiled.

~*~

"Oh my God," Remy moaned, stepping back into his bedroom, where Roman waited sprawled across his bed, after having spied on Virgil and Remus.

"What's going on?" Roman asked, immediately jumping up and readjusting his skirt.

Remy collapsed onto his bed. "They're being insufferably cheesy. And they haven't even realised that they're in love yet!"

"What are they talking about?" Roman asked. "Tell me everything."

Remy sighed. "They're, like, talking about how they used to be friends or something, and how they missed each other, and then they start saying that they're drawn to each other. Like, what does that even mean?"

Roman grinned. "It means they like each other, Remy. They're soulmates."

“Soulmates aren’t real, Roman.”

“Shut up, they totally are.” Roman clapped his hands together. “Maybe we should talk to them. Help them to realise.”

Remy hummed. “They won’t confess today, will they?”

“Unless we can talk to either of them in private,” Roman said.

“I’ll talk to Virgil after school tomorrow,” Remy decided. “You talk to Remus?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

~*~

When Virgil walked through his front door the following afternoon, he stopped in his path as he saw Remy leaning against the wall, a smirk upon his face.

Virgil blinked. “What have you done now?”

“So.” Remy pushed himself off the wall, stepping towards his younger brother. “You and Remus, huh?”

Virgil frowned. “What… What about us?”

“I heard you two are pretty close,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, we’re friends, I guess?” Virgil attempted to walk further into the house, but Remy blocked him.

“Just friends?”

Virgil blinked. “Wh-What else would we be?”

“Well, what do you think of Remus?” Remy asked.

“I- I don’t-” He breathed in. “Wait, do you think I like him?”

Remy hummed. “Perhaps.”

“We’re just friends,” Virgil said. “He’s a nice guy, I guess. We were friends when we were kids, and now we’re friends again.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Virgil sighed. “Is this because I stare at him a lot? It’s not my fault that he has such an amazing fashion sense. And a beautiful white strip of hair always falling over his eyes. Beautiful eyes, actually - have you seen them? They have, like, little green specks in them.”

Remy giggled.

“What?”

“Just, the way you’re talking about him is proving my point.”

“I’m not…” Virgil’s eyes widened. “Shit.” It made sense, actually. It explained why he was so drawn to Remus, why he couldn’t stop staring at him, why he couldn’t get him out of his mind. “Fuck, maybe I do like him,” he whispered.

Remy’s giggling grew louder, until he turned around and walked upstairs.

“Remy, wait, I-”

Remy slammed his bedroom door, leaving Virgil alone with his thoughts.

~*~

Virgil stared at Remus across the cafeteria. Watched him laugh with D, play with his food, just be an absolute dork, and Virgil couldn’t help but be mesmerised by his every action. Remy’s words from the day before circled around his head, the revelation that he had since come to accept as the absolute truth. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up for.

He stood up.

“Virgil,” Patton said, “are you-”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, walking away from the table despite Patton’s protests.

He came up besides Remus and placed his hand on the table next to him, ignoring the glares he got from D. Remus looked up at him, a little alarmed.

“Uhm, can I-”

“Come with me,” Virgil said, grabbing Remus’ wrist and dragging him from the scene. Remus followed willingly, but Virgil didn’t let go of his wrist. Virgil led him out of the cafeteria and around a corner, to a corridor devoid of students.

“Virgil, what-”

“I know we probably shouldn’t be talking right now,” Virgil said. “Since D and Patton probably aren’t too happy. But…”

“It’s okay,” Remus said. “D won’t mind. And if Patton says anything I will fight them.”

“You absolutely will not fight them,” Virgil said. “Patton may be wrong about you, but they’re still a good friend.”

Remus shrugged. “Okay then. But what did you want?”

Virgil breathed in. “Okay, so, I’ve been thinking an awful lot lately, and I’ve realised that…” His hands were getting sweaty and his heart rate was beginning to increase. “I, uh…” Why had he thought this would be a good idea?“

Remus frowned. "Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Virgil cleared his thought. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He breathed in again. “Um, basically, I…”

“Let me guess, you’re madly in love with me,” Remus joked.

Virgil glanced down, avoiding Remus’ gaze.

Remus blinked. “Wait, shit, was that right?”

Virgil smiled nervously. “Uh… maybe?”

Remus laughed. “Seriously?”

Fuck. Remus thought it was funny. That… That must mean he didn’t feel the same way, right? That must mean that Virgil had majorly fucked up somehow. Shit - what if Remus wasn’t even gay? He did have a rainbow pin in his jacket, but he was also friends with D so maybe that was just to show his support. Virgil didn’t remember Remus ever mentioning an attraction to guys.

God, why had he just jumped into like that? Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have. Under any other circumstances, he would have stood back and thought about it, made sure that he wouldn’t ruin his life by acting upon his impulses.

What if this meant that Remus would stop being friends with Virgil? What if he thought it was weird? What if it made him uncomfortable? What if Remus hatedhim because of this? What if?

Remus stopped laughing. He placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, now looking serious. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Virgil used all of his willpower to stop himself from shoving Remus’ hand off. “I’m sorry. I… You don’t feel the same way, I get it. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. And, um, if it makes you uncomfortable-”

Remus snorted. “Sorry, if it makes me what?”

Virgil blinked. “I- If me liking you like that is, like, weird? I mean, I get it. You’re not gay, or whatever, and we’re just friends, so…”

That made Remus laugh even harder.

Virgil tried to steady his breathing. “Wh-What’s so funny about that?”

After composing himself, Remus shook his head, a massive grin across his face. “Sorry, I just… I’m offended that you’d even think that I’m straight.”

Virgil blinked. “You’re… You’re not straight?”

“Are you kidding me?” Remus closed his eyes. “I am a massive homosexual. I don’t know why anybody would think otherwise.”

Okay. So he was attracted to men. That was at least one good thing. “But…”

“And I don’t find it weird,” Remus continued. “At all. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about kissing you on multiple occasions.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. Did… Did that mean…

“I guess what I’m trying to say,” Remus said, taking Virgil’s hands, “is that I feel the same way.”

Virgil looked back up, making eye contact with Remus, and smiled.

“I’m fact, if it’s something that you want, I’d be honoured to be your boyfriend,” Remus announced.

And in that moment, Virgil was sure that he would cry.

~*~

“We need to talk,” Patton said, as Virgil left his final class. The two began to walk down the hallway and out the school, Virgil’s anxiety beginning to kick in.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked.

Patton frowned. “No? Why would you think you’re in trouble?”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know. Why else would you want to talk to me?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Patton promised, eyes darting around. “I’m just… concerned.”

“About what?”

Patton pursed their lips. “You talked to Remus earlier, right?”

“Yeah,” Virgil confirmed. “He’s an alright guy, actually.”

They stepped out the school, Virgil adjusting his backpack slightly.

“I know you and Logan have something against him, or whatever, but…” Virgil shrugged. “I knew him when we were kids. And we’ve reconnected, I guess. I promise he’s an alright guy.”

Patton glanced at him, skeptically, but apparently gave in. “Well, alright. Be careful, though. If he hurts you, tell me.”

Virgil faked a smile. “Yeah, of course.”

Patton nodded. “Well. Take care.” They smiled, and then ran off to join Logan on the other side of the field, leaving Virgil to walk home alone.

~*~

“Remus,” D said. “Are you even listening to me?”

Remus tore his eyes away from Virgil and looked back at D. “Huh?”

D sighed. “I was saying that you seem a little distracted lately. So I guess that proves my point.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Remus said, eyes drifting back towards Virgil.

“Remus,” D said again, more forcibly. “What’s going on?”

Remus blinked, and returned his attention to D. “Oh, I have a boyfriend.”

D frowned. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Sorry, did I not mention?”

D glanced to the side, trying to follow Remus’ previous gaze. “No, actually, you didn’t.”

“Oh. Well. Now you know.”

“Who is it?” D asked.

“Just some guy, you wouldn’t know him,” Remus said.

“Remus.”

“Okay, okay.” He breathed in. “His name is Virgil.”

D gasped. “As in, Virgil the stalker?”

“He’s a stalker!” Remus defended. “If anything I’m the stalker.”

“I thought we decided that you should stay away from him,” D recalled.

“Yeah, well, me and him go way back, okay?” Remus sighed. “I know what I’m doing. Virgil is good for me.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” D said.

“I’m not gonna get hurt.” Remus smiled. “If he ever breaks my heart, I give you full permission to murder him.”

D raised an eyebrow.

“Actually, no,” Remus decided. “You can’t murder him. Because I like him. But if he hurts me you can definitely fight him.”

D smirked. “Wow. No murder. You must really like him this time.”

“Shut up,” Remus said, chuckling.

~*~

Virgil rested his head on Remus’s shoulder, as Remus absentmindedly stroked through Virgil’s hair. They were sat on Virgil’s bed, trying their hardest to ignore the noise from Remy and Roman next door. It was nice like this. Just the two of them.

Turning his head to the side, Virgil stretched his neck out and pecked Remus on the cheek, something that he’d been wanting to do for a while. And although Remus tried to play it off, Virgil caught his cheeks turning a light shade of red.

Virgil snuggled further into his side, slowly wrapping his arm around Remus’ back and beginning to draw invisible circles on his arm. He listened to Remus humming in appreciation, and Virgil allowed himself to melt into his body, feeling perfectly content.

After a few more moments of pure bliss, Remus twisted his head down to look at Virgil. He leant down, so close that Virgil was able to feel his breath on his face, and then their two lips interlocked, and Virgil’s heart burst.

It wasn’t quite how he imagined, but that was okay. Somehow, it was even better. Remus was passionate, and daring, and didn’t hold back, and Virgil couldn’t have been more happy about that fact. Virgil himself was timid, and he knew that, and it was a part of him he was willing to accept, but having Remus here… well, it made him feel alive. Made him feel like he could do anything.

Like, for instance, it made him feel as though he could kiss Remus back. Still connected to Remus, Virgil pushed himself up so he was no longer slouched on Remus’ body. He pushed Remus against the wall, kissing back harder. At first, Remus seemed a little surprised, but he soon caught on and kissed back, sending the two into battle.

A battle to see who’s love was stronger, who’s passion was larger. And there wasn’t a winner, exactly. Or a loser. Just the plain, simple evidence that the two’s hearts were better as one, that they were meant to be.

They danced around each other, wanting more and more, and never wanting to stop.

They were happy.

~*~

Remus nudged Virgil’s shoulder. “You’ll have to tell them eventually, y'know.”

Virgil glanced down. “I… I know. It’s harder with them.”

“They do know that you’re gay, right?” Remus checked.

Virgil nodded. “Well, yeah, of course. Who doesn’t?”

"So what are you so afraid of?”

Virgil breathed in and out. “Look, Patton’s having a hard enough time wrapping their head around the fact that you’re my friend, let alone boyfriend.”

Remus backed off a little after that statement. “Ah. That would be an issue.”

“Yeah.” Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just… I need to wait for the right time. I’m sure they’ll come around eventually.”

“Why do they hate me, anyway?” Remus wondered.

Virgil shrugged. “No clue. Apparently Logan told them something. They won’t tell me what.”

“Oh.” Remus hummed. “Logan is friends with Roman, I think. Wouldn’t be surprised if Roman has told him horror stories, or something. Either way, they’re probably not true.”

Virgil laughed nervously. “Probably?” he repeated.

“Well, I have done some shit,” Remus admitted. “Nothing dangerous.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Anything illegal?”

Remus thought for a moment. “I mean, probably.”

“Oh, shit, am I dating a criminal mastermind?”

“Would that be a problem for you?”

“No, no.” Virgil chuckled. “Actually, I think I’d be pretty into it.”

“Oh, in that case, I do in fact break laws daily,” Remus said. “I’m wanted in all seven continents and constantly on the run. Crime is my favourite thing to do.”

Virgil laughed, not even attempting - or wanting - to hold it back.

“I’m all seriousness though,” Remus said, “I haven’t broken any serious laws. I haven’t done any of the drugs and I haven’t murdered anyone just yet.”

“Should I be concerned about the yet part?” Virgil asked.

“Honestly if I were dating me, I’d be a little concerned in general.” Remus grinned.

Virgil smiled back. “But if you haven’t done the drugs or the murder yet, what have you done?”

“Oh, y'know. The usual.” He shrugged. “Pirating. Underage drinking. A little light shoplifting.”

“Eh. Who doesn’t do that?” Virgil shook his head. “I mean, asides from the shoplifting, I don’t think many people do that, but if it’s from a large corporation and you need the stuff I don’t really see the issue.”

Remus smirked. “So… you don’t mind?”

Virgil shrugged. “Be gay, do crime, am I right?”

“Oh thank fuck.”

~*~

Virgil sat at the dinner table, feeding himself spaghetti and trying to ignore his fathers gaze.

“So,” his mother said, looking expectedly at Virgil, “how come you never invite your friend around when we’re home.”

Virgil frowned. “What friend?”

“Y'know, that friend,” his mother repeated. “The one that’s always around.” She turned to his brother. “Remy, dear, what did you say his name was?”

“You mean Remus?” Remy offered.

“Remus! That’s it.” His mother turned back to Virgil. “He’s come round a few times now, hasn’t he?”

There was a brief silence as Virgil sucked up his piece of spaghetti, mostly to avoid the question. “He’s a friend,” he finally said.

His mother smiled, but it seemed somewhat bitter. “I’m glad you’re making friends, Virgil, but it just seems odd. You’ve never really invited anyone over before.”

“Oh. Well.” Virgil shrugged. “He’s my boyfriend. So I guess that’s a little different.”

His mother giggled. Remy glanced at Virgil, looking alarmed. His father just stared harder.

“What?” Virgil felt his shoulder tense up. “I’m not joking. Remus is actually my boyfriend.”

His mother snorted. “Yeah, real funny Virgil. We know you’re not… that.”

Virgil frowned. “Actually, uh, I am. I’ve known that I’m gay for a while now. So.”

His mother stared at him. “You’re not joking, are you?” she said, sounding serious.

Virgil locked his eyes on the table. Why the fuck had he done that? He… He should’ve known that his mother would react that way. The family always tended to shy away from that kind of stuff - asides from Remy, of course, supportive as ever - so why would he even think that his mother would be okay with any of this?

Remy raised a hand. “Uh, if it’s any consolation, I’m also gay. And I’m pretty sure Dad’s bisexual, not gonna lie.”

His father glared daggers at Remy, and Remy lowered his hand.

“Okay, maybe he isn’t bi, but I am actually a massive homosexual.”

“Remy, you’re not helping,” his mother said, through gritted teeth. She turned back to Virgil, plastering on a fake smile. “How long have you been like that?”

Virgil frowned. “Well, I’d imagine my whole life, but I realised when I was, like, thirteen? Fourteen? Some time around then.”

His mother shook her head. “No, that can’t be right. I mean, you haven’t had any… any boyfriends before, have you?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I haven’t really had any friends period. I’m just nowstarting to get friends and the fact I also just happen to enjoy kissing one of them doesn’t change that.”

“Don’t talk about kissing boys at the dinner table,” his mother chided.

“If I was talking about kissing girls would you think differently?”

His mother spluttered, not able to get any words out.

“Thought so.” Virgil stood up. “I guess I’ll just got talk about kissing boys somewhere else.” He left the kitchen, taking his spaghetti with him.

~*~

There was a gentle knock on his bedroom door. Assuming that it was his mother, Virgil wrapped his blankets tighter around him and tried to wipe away his tears and steady his breathing. Maybe if she thought he wasn’t in here, she would go away.

He heard the door open, footsteps creeping towards his bed, and felt somebody weigh down on him, sitting on the end of his bed. He buried himself deeper into his mattress, trying his very hardest to disappear. The person placed a hand on Virgil’s back - or his duvet, really - and rubbed gently. Virgil wanted to swipe the hand away, until he heard a voice.

“Hey, Virge.” It was Remy. Just Remy. “I’m… sorry about back there. I know Mom can be a little intense.”

Virgil turned over, unwrapping his blankets slightly so he could see Remy. “That wasn’t intense. That was just…”

“I know, I know.” Remy sighed. “She’ll come around.”

Virgil closed his eyes, trying to stop his tears. “I don’t think she will.”

“She will,” Remy promised. “And… if she doesn’t, if it gets any worse, I’ll just take you away. We can get our own place and you can have as many boyfriends as you want. I mean, I’m assuming you just want the one, but you know what I mean. We’d never even have to see her again.”

“And Dad?” Virgil wondered. “He didn’t even say anything.”

“He’ll come around too,” Remy promised. “They both will. Things will get better.”

Virgil lifted his blanket over his head again.

“If it makes any difference, I’m happy for you,” Remy said. “You have an amazing boyfriend, and being gay is just about the best thing you can be.”

Virgil huffed, smiling a little.

“Do you want me to stay here?” Remy asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Virgil said. “You go back to bed.”

“Okay.” Remy patted him. “I’m next door if you next anything.”

~*~

Virgil felt himself get pushed against the wall. He had just left his class before lunch, and turned into an empty hallway when the attacker stuck. His heart rate increased, brain screaming that things were going back to the way it was before, but then the ‘attacker’ pressed against his lips, kissing him, and Virgil realised what was going on. He relaxed a little, kissing back.

Eventually Remus pulled away, and smirked at Virgil. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face then.”

Virgil breathed in. “That wasn’t funny, Remus. I was genuinely afraid for a second.”

“What did you think I was gonna do?”

Virgil sighed. “I dunno. Punch me. Kick me. Threaten me with a knife.”

Remus seemed a little upset about that. “Why would I do any of that?”

“Usually when people push me against a wall, it means one of those three things are coming,” Virgil said, through a smile. He began to walk down the hall again, towards the cafeteria.

“Has… Has that happened to you before?” Remus asked, jogging a little to catch up.

“Well, asides from the knife part.” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, you know about my last school, right?”

“I know you said you had a hard time there, but…”

“Well, that was what I was talking about.” Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets. “I mean, not just that, of course, but that was a big part of it.”

“Virgil,” Remus said, softly, “I’m sorry.”

Virgil shrugged. “Eh. It’s in the past. Nothing bad has happened at this school yet. And I’ve got you to protect me.”

“Still.” Remus wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder. “You never should’ve had to deal with that. I’m… I’ll find everyone who did, and threaten them with a knife.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Virgil said.

“They did it to you.”

“Nobody threatened me with a knife.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t threaten them.”

Virgil smiled. “Okay, well, thanks anyway. I don’t… I don’t really think any of them deserve to be punished for what they did, but…”

“Of course they do,” Remus said. “They hurt you, Virgil.”

“Yeah, and I’d never want the same to happen to them.” Virgil sighed. “We were young and stupid. They probably didn’t know any better. I just… hope they learn something from it. Hope they grow out of being massive dicks.”

Remus hummed. “Well. I won’t dig any further, then.”

They reached the cafeteria, and split off, Remus going to join D and Virgil going to join Patton and Logan.

~*~

Virgil laid in his bed, holding his phone up in front of his face. It was now or never, really. He had to tell someone about Remus, especially after what went down with his parents a couple nights previously. He was fed up of keeping this a secret from his friends. But it was harder than it looked.

He read over his message one more time:

hey guys, so i know this may come as a shock to you, buuuuut i just so happen to have a boyfriend. and i’ve been meaning to tell you for like ages but apparently can’t bring myself to say it to your faces. so yeah uhhh please don’t hate me thanks bye

Cringing a little but trying his best to ignoring his brain, he closed his eyes, pressed send, and threw his phone to the side. He brought up his hands and covered his face, taking deep breathes. His phone buzzed about fifty times, but he ignored it, scared to see what the others would say. Eventually, the phone started ringing.

He glanced over, seeing Patton’s name pop up on the screen. He groaned. Really wasn’t in the mood to talk. Texting was one thing, holding a conversation was another.

He let the call go to voicemail, then picked up his phone, reading through the messages in the group chat.

Patton: :O

Patton: Virgil!

Patton: that’s awesome!!!

Patton: who is it?

Logan: Oh, that is great news Virgil. If the reason you were afraid to tell us is because of the implications of having a 'boyfriend’ rather than a 'girlfriend’, I’d just like to let you know that I support you regardless of that fact, and I assume Patton does as well. I’m sure you’re aware of Patton’s pansexuality and my own homosexuality, so really no issue. That being said, I’m very happy for you.

Patton: tell me everything!!!!!

Patton: oh yeah Logan’s right of course we accept you v

Patton: Virgil? You there buddy?

Patton: Virgilllllllll

Virgil breathed in, and quickly typed out a response.

Virgil: yeah, uh, thanks guys. i mean i wasn’t afraid about the whole gay thing anyway but i’m glad to know that y'all accept me and shit.

Virgil: anyway. uh.

Virgil: i’m dating remus.

~*~

The next day at school, all six of them sat together for lunch. Patton invited Remus and D over to their own table, which Remus quickly accepted and D more reluctantly accepted after heavy persuasion from Remus. After texting his friends the night before, Virgil had managed to convince them that Remus was good for him. Upon explaining that he was in love and all that, Patton was pretty quick to accept it all. And Logan didn’t really need much convincing - he never really had that much of a problem with Remus in the first place, only knowing what Roman had told him.

But he and Remus were together now, and nothing could stop that. Maybe his mother hadn’t spoken to him since that dinner, but Virgil didn’t care too much about that - it wasn’t as if she spoke much to him before. Same with his father. He had Remy, at least, still supporting him from the side, and Roman now as well he guessed.

Remus and Virgil held hands under the table as they ate. And that was fine. Everything was fine now.

~*~

Virgil collapsed against Remus’ body, closing his eyes. It was after school, and neither particularly wanted to go home, so they sat together on the school field, watching the clouds float by. Remus wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, pulling him in tight.

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered. “For being here.”

Remus began to stroke Virgil’s hair. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“But this is exactly what I needed. After all the shit that went down in my last school,” Virgil said.

Remus shook his head. “You don’t need a boyfriend because of that. You need a support system, and you have it. I’m just glad your friends don’t hate me anymore.”

Virgil giggled. “Yeah, I guess that’s a plus.”

“I’m glad you came back,” Remus said. “I missed you so much.”

“Well.” Virgil smiled. “I’m never leaving again.”

They kissed, all of their worries fading away into the air around them.

#dukexiety #tw panic attack #tw cursing #tw homophobia #tw threats #spring fling 2020 #submission

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