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oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat · 11 months

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Ferns & Flowers

Guess who finally rewrote and revived a lost fic? Very excited to post this because it got yeeted into the Aether by Tumblr, but I revived it. Hurt/Comfort because I am weak. Enjoy!

This is also made for this year's @intrualityweek (2023)! Day 5, Gifts. The alternate used to combine with it is Flowers. I only wrote for one of the days because I have too many other projects to finish and get out.

Part 2 coming soon.

(a lil present for @rataticaisdreaming)

Pairing: platonic Intruality, gen

Trigger/Content Warning: intrusive thoughts, gory commentary, sexual humour, past domestic violence (mentioned), gun

Description: A florist and a botanist work in similar fields of study, yet they've never became acquainted. Who knew one little trade-off would begin such a strange friendship?

[Masterlist] | ao3 link | Next

[Read under the cut]

Remus never once thought he'd be so interested in plants, not until he learned about the poisonous ones and took up a career in Botany.

As a botanist, and as Remus, he'd named his own little shop after one of his favourite hyperfixations. Dahmer's Plant Hoard definitely attracts a variety of people, but who would Remus be to judge? Some come for the poisonous plants to study. Some come for the non-lethal ones to add to a gift for someone. There are even the times when Botany students will come in and ask to study a plant for a paper.

Supply usually outweighs demand in his field, but there's always outliers. A few of the more popular plants need to be restocked every now and then. Luckily, his shop is across the street from a florist, who seems to have every flower imaginable. He hadn't met them yet, though they work in similar fields. It's about time, anyway. Remus needs more moonflowers for an order due in a few weeks, and the florist would be the perfect person to buy them from.

This florist owns their own shop, and they tend to have lower prices than most places do. That, and customers always talk about how kind and generous they are. At least, from what Remus has heard.

Remus closes up his shop. It's been a slow and boring day, and perhaps meeting this florist will give him some excitement. He goes through a last-minute mental list. All his plants are watered, his cash register is secured, and the spare gloves are put away in their respective space. Everything is locked up as he leaves his plant business, wondering how the florist will be. Maybe they'll be as eccentric as he is! Or they could be a murderer in disguise. That'd be funny. As long as they aren't boring.

Crossing the street, he swears he can almost hear a dolphin whistling in the distance. He dismisses it as the wind.

But there's hardly a breeze blowing by.

~~~

The flower shop is called Pawprint Florals, written in a pretty blue font on the sign.

Remus can see the pastel colours from outside through the display windows. Blue, green, and some other colours decorate the walls. There's puppies and baskets of all kinds of flowers painted neatly, giving the inside quite a kiddish look. It's bright and vibrant, almost to an annoying point. Still tolerable, though. I mean, Remus isn't one to shy away from obnoxious colours and things. He literally dyed his hair radioactive green during his entire high school career; he couldn't care less about 'annoying'.

Walking in, a small bell chimes. A donation box sits on the counter, where the florist messes with a bouquet of ferns and forget-me-nots. The donation box is decorated with pawprints and tiny penciled hearts. It says something about a local animal shelter needing funds for maintenance and food upkeep. It smells like an assortment of flowers, Remus notes as he spots a glass door behind the counter. It reads 'employees only'. Probably leads to the greenhouse. Where else would you get all those flowers and flora? Shipments take forever, ya know. Better to grow and store what you've got.

As soon as Remus comes up to the counter, the florist abandons the bouquet and sets it down somewhere safe behind the counter. They flash a cheerful smile, pushing up their round-framed glasses on their nose.

"Hi, and welcome to Pawprint Florals! How may I help you today, kiddo?" they say just as cheerfully as their smile.

Remus blinks for a second at how utterly joyful this person is. Of course, before he leans against the counter in his chaotic glory and flashes a toothy smirk.

"Did ya know if you made moonflowers into tea, it would kill anyone who drank it?" is Remus' response.

The florist pauses, a little hesitant with that kind of information, but keeps their smile on their face.

"Are... are you looking for moonflowers?" they ask.

Remus hums, nodding his head.

"Oh! Well, I may have a few in the back," the florist pulls out a pen and a notepad. "Who are they for? I can make you a note for them."

They look down briefly to scribble something- probably about the moonflowers- before looking back up and changing their smile to a softer kind one. It's less than their previous smile, but it captivates Remus nonetheless. This florist is very pretty. And cute, considering their outfit.

They wear light blue overalls with a white-greyish undershirt. There's a floral-themed sticker nametag right above where their heart is, the name Patton written in a fun font. The florist- Patton, Remus' brain corrects him- has freckles all over their face and what he can see of their arms. Sandy-blonde curls. Dirt smudged on one cheek. Their nametag has the italicized pronouns they/them right under their name.

They are so adorable.

Remus must've been staring at this human version of a golden retriever because Patton makes a concerned head tilt at him.

"Are you okay, kiddo?"

They frown slightly, and Remus wishes the smile would come back.

"Absolutely! As okay as maggots eating a cadaver."

Remus' grin convinces Patton of the truth, though they cringe at the mental image of a bug-infested corpse.

"Uh, alright then... for your order, who do you want it dedicated to?"

"No one! I need it for my shop 'cross the street."

"Oh, you're the botanist! I've been meaning to run into you. This is perfect, actually."

Remus watches as Patton waves him to come behind the counter, following them over to the greenhouse's door. They unlock it, shoving the key into a hidden pocket on the inside of their overalls. The duo heads into the greenhouse.

There are shelves upon shelves of potted flora, ranging from common roses to even a few rare Chocolate Cosmoses. Fairylights hang across the ceiling, glowing with blue and green and white. They illuminate the entire greenhouse in pretty mood lighting. There's a hose near the back surrounded by a couple of watering cans. A brown door, labelled 'storage', sits at the end of the elongated space of nothing but flowers and occasional succulents.

"I don't have a lot of moonflowers right now, sorry about that. I do have a shipment from a friend coming in soon, though. Uh, but that could take about a week or two," Patton explains as they lead Remus towards the back.

Remus is only half-listening, however, gawking at the flowers and how many of them are poisonous.

They could kill me swiftly and horribly, omg.

This florist is starting to grow on him, quite a lot.

"Aside from that, I was hoping you could help me? There's a flower here... not that one. Um, somewhere in here that I'm a little stumped on."

Remus perks up at the sound of a challenge.

"What kinda flower are we talking? Poisonous? Toxic? So lethal ya can't even touch it?"

Patton just nods.

They end up in front of a singular potted flower, a couple pairs of gloves sit nearby the pot. Patton hands a pair to Remus before taking a pair themself, though Remus half considers tossing the gloves away. There've been plenty of times where he hadn't used gloves when he should've and still lived. A few times his friend had to call poison control and banned him from handling certain plants for a few months. But eh, he always survives.

But when he goes to just throw the gloves in a random direction, Patton gives him the most paternally safety-first look he's seen in a long while. He decides to just put on the gloves for now. He can f*ck with toxic plants later.

"Safety always, kiddo," they start, tugging on their gloves and gesturing to the flower. "This little guy keeps wilting and I don't know why."

Patton frowns. Remus takes a glance at it.

"That's because ya gotta keep 'em outta the Sun, duh," Remus playfully rolls his eyes at the florist.

"Oh."

Remus snorts at Patton, causing them to smile and chuckle at themself.

"Good to know, thanks."

"Eh. Now, moonflowers?"

"Oh, right. Like I said, not a lot- keep the gloves on, please."

Patton gives him another pointed look, and Remus scoffs but listens. They head a little further towards the back to the moonflowers. True to Patton's word, there isn't a lot. Just a few, looking lonely in their pot.

Damn, they weren't kidding.

Eat the flowers.

Maybe later.

"Like I said, I'm getting a shipment of them in about two weeks. Sorry it's not sooner," Patton says.

Remus hums. The moonflowers that are there, though few, are well taken care of. They reach for the sunlight flowing like a waterfall into the greenhouse. Their blossoms are full and vibrant. Patton is definitely a good florist, keeping these flowers healthy.

"Welp, I got an order I need some for... but I'd need more. You said f*ckin', uh, two weeks? Right?" Remus asks.

Patton gives him a frown at the cussing, but they nod anyway.

"My order's in three weeks, so maybe... a trade?"

Patton considers it for a moment, admittedly not expecting to be offered a trade.

"I don't think I have anything I'd need, though. I don't mind just giving you some of the flowers."

Remus raises an eyebrow but says nothing. They're pretty and kind and selfless? Not wanting or needing anything in return? He highly doubts that. No one is completely selfless. True Altruism is absolute bullsh*t.

"Oh, cum on. Nothing? Nothing at all? Not any more help with some toxic plants?"

Patton hesitates.

"Well... it feels weird to ask for something in return."

"Butt?"

Remus snickers to himself at his own joke. The florist doesn't even catch it, fidgeting with their gloves for a second. They sigh, stilling their hands.

"I do need some help with a few other no-no flowers..."

"Then it's a deal! Give me some of your moonflowers in a couple weeks, and I'll help ya with your lethal poisons," Remus offers his hand to shake as he speaks delightfully.

"Okay..."

Patton extends their hand and shake Remus'. They offer a smile, and Remus returns it with a cheeky smirk.

"Neat! Now, how do ya think moonflowers taste?"

"...what?"

~~~

It's been about a week since their initial deal was made, and some sort of chaos-filled routine comes to be.

Remus visits Patton and their greenhouse every evening, making obscene and mildly sexual jokes that the florist doesn't always catch. He tells them unsettling facts or just asks these off-hand questions that are completely unrelated to the duo's current discussion. It throws Patton off, which Remus finds all the funnier. As the week progresses, they slowly become mildly used to it.

They talk about many things during their visits. As Remus helps Patton with their poisons, the florist will start a random topic and they two go from there. It always goes in nonsensical directions. One minute they talk about some weird movie they've both seen, and suddenly it turns into epic tales of their youths or how they're coping with the Horrors™ (aka: life situations). They grow closer rather quickly, both liking this little agreement they've made.

Now it's a week since the deal, and Remus visits again in the evening. He welcomes himself in the closed shop, having a spare key Patton had lent him for the time being. He goes behind the counter, into the greenhouse. The fairylights are on as they always are. Only one problem.

Patton isn't there.

They're always there before he is, considering they own the shop. So them not being there, or even being first, is... well, a first.

Few things unsettle Remus. This is one of them.

Where could they be?

Dead in a fire? Buried under the ground? Imagine if they were crying out for help, no one there to hear them scream.

Remus winces at his thoughts, but he doesn't entertain them. The florist is probably just late, for whatever f*cking reason, and they'll be there soon. Yeah, they're fine. Definitely fine.

A door opening and the bell chiming at someone's arrival startles the botanist out of his head. He tenses, freezing in his spot. Remus doesn't think he heard key, which means it can't be Patton. Who else could it be? An intruder?

A murderer, come to take you like they took Patton?

He grabs the closest object, a trowel, as he ignores his thoughts. Raising it to attack (if need be), Remus creeps out from the greenhouse and back into the storefront. He crouches behind the counter as he hears footsteps growing louder. His heart beats against his chest, his legs burning with anticipation of might-get-killed. As soon as the intruder is close enough to the counter, Remus pops up and aims the trowel at the mystery murderer. Said mystery murderer yelps in surprise, and Remus hears the pistol get cocked before he sees it. He immediately raises his arms up, not wanting to get shot. He processes who it actually is as they sigh in relief.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! Are you okay, Remus?"

It's Patton. With a gun. Patton has a f*cking pistol.

Jesus, just when I thought I figured this motherf*cker out.

Patton stares at him with very guilty and concerned eyes, uncocking their decorated pistol and taking the magazine out. They flip the safety on, pocketing the gun and the magazine in separate places under their trench coat. Remus lowers his arms and sets the trowel on the counter, exhaling from all the adrenaline.

"...Remus?"

Remus looks at Patton, the pretty and lethal florist he hopes to never piss off, and cackles lightly at the situation.

"I'm great! Most fun I've had in while," he grins.

Patton's shoulders ease, and they exhale their own breath from the tense moment that just happened.

"Good, good..."

As Patton trails off, Remus takes a better look at them. Their trench coat is dotted with rain (their glasses the same), they have tired eyebags under beautiful eyes, and their face... their face holds tear streaks hidden amongst freckles. Actually, their eyes do look a little red and... oh. Oh, they've been crying. They're upset.

"Pat-Pat, what's up?"

"What?"

"Who do I need to maim? Ya look like rainclouds."

"Oh."

Patton sighs deeply, sounding older for a moment. They hesitate, shifting their feet. Looking away from the botanist, they join him behind the counter.

"I'll explain while we sort out some flowers," their voice sounds small and soft, and god.

It hurts to hear them like that. It hurts Remus' chest, and he wants to shove whoever hurt them into a woodchipper.

He follows his friend into the greenhouse, the pretty fairylights making them look sadder instead of cheering them up. Usually, such colourful lighting brings a smile to their face. Tonight is different.

Patton tugs on gloves absentmindedly, and so does Remus. He doesn't want to worry them right now. They both head towards the middle section of the long hallway of flora, stopping in front of a pot of many buds. Remus vaguely recognizes the type of flower, but he's mostly focused on the florist.

"Um... so, I'm not sure what these ones do. I'm also not sure why they're taking so long to- to bloom," they speak softly still.

Remus nods along, keeping an eye on his fellow plant enthusiast. They sigh again, putting their hands on the shelf by the pot and lean against it. They hang their head.

"I don't know how to talk about this."

They're not referring to the poisonous flora in front of them.

"Well, no one's forcing you if it's too much," Remus offers a chance to back out, to try distractions instead of conversation.

"I know, kiddo. Thank you," Patton offers a sad smile as they turn their head to look up at him. "I just... I like to think there's a good side to everyone."

Remus stays there by their side, a steady presence.

"Some people get mistreated and get angry at how they've been treated. It's not their fault that someone hurt them. And- and some people are wary because they're not sure who is genuine. Some people are good outright, some aren't. I don't want to judge what I don't know."

A fond gaze appears in Patton's eyes.

"Some people are unsettling or weird, but they remain just as good as everyone else."

Remus' heart feels warm.

Patton turns to stare at the toxic flower, their gaze hardening.

"Some people prove me wrong. Not everyone is good, not really. My friend always says there's always outliers to every data collection, and he's right more times than I can count."

Remus raises a worried eyebrow, starting to catch on.

"So, an outlier...?" he prompts.

Patton nods, glaring now at the damn plant in front of them.

"My mom raised me and my siblings on her own, even though she was married. I'm the oldest, so I always helped her with the littles. She's the strongest person I know, and I love her more than anything."

They grip the shelf.

"And he never stopped hurting her. It didn't- it didn't matter if we were there or not. He'd relish in the pain he caused her. Sometimes, it was like he wanted us to watch. A frickin' sick bastard."

Tears prick at Patton's eyes, angry. Remus stared in genuine shock at hearing the florist call someone a bastard. This b*tch sounds like a real piece of sh*t. He'd love to bury them alive on Patton's and their family's behalf.

"I haven't seen him in years. No contact, per court order. Mom doesn't know, but... he called me. He has my frickin' number."

Angry tears fall and hands shake. Patton trembles with emotion as they speak, a sharp edge has taken to their voice. Their breathing picks up slightly.

"He has no right to be in my life. He hurt my mom. I'm going to poison him and put him under the frickin'- frickin' ground. I just- he- god."

Patton stands up, no longer leaning on the shelf nor glaring at the poor plant. They hide their face in their hands as they cry quietly, taking in shaky breaths. Remus immediately gathers them in his arms, hugging them tight as cry out their distress. He's going to kill this motherf*cking jackass, but Patton needs him first.

"If you're gonna poison someone, then you'd have to hide the body. It's too much effort. Do ya know how much dead bodies weigh? They're f*cking heavy," Remus says.

Patton grips his hoodie with their gloved hands, trying to focus on breathing in. Remus smells like fresh soil and some odd concoction of flora. It's calming, and Patton takes another deep breath to take the smell greedily.

They eventually sag in Remus' arms as they calm down, and the botanist holds his florist close.

"D'aw, tired little florist. Do ya think if your flowers had legs, they'd pole-dance or something?"

Patton snorts at such an absurd image, causing Remus to smile. They both stare at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. It makes the fairylights seem cheerful again, basking them in pretty blue and green and white light.

"I bet they'd have hairy human legs-"

Patton gasps, "That's worse."

They giggle at the thought of human legs attached to stems and flowers, imagining them in a cartoonish way.

After a little bit, they both settle. Patton easing themself out of Remus' arms, and he lets them. They glance at the flowers they were supposed to sort out.

"It's getting late, Pat-Pat."

"Yeah, but the flowers..."

"-will be here in the morning. Cum on, why not tell me about this mom of yours. She sounds badass."

Remus offers his hand, and Patton smiles as they take it.

They leave the greenhouse, completely forgetting that they're both still wearing the gloves. They forget about the trowel on the counter, the gun under Patton's trench coat. They leave Pawprint Florals, locking the door behind them. Patton makes a decision, since Remus hasn't seen their home before.

"Come to mine? It's out of the rain," they offer as the rain persists.

Remus lights up at the offer.

"F*ck yeah! Now maybe I can see where the f*ck you got a gun."

Patton chuckles at him as they get in their car, the florist in the driver's seat.

"By the way, Pattie? If ya ever need someone to off your bastard," Patton glances at Remus as he speaks. "Well, it goes unsaid."

Patton knows what he means. They give a fond look.

"Thanks, Rem."

"Anytime, Patio."

Patton starts the car as Remus buckles up for once, heading down the road as they laugh to Remus' random comments.

~~~

It's two weeks. Remus and Patton have grown a whole lot closer, especially after the thing with Patton's murderous intent. Amazing how fast you can get attached to new friends, huh?

It's their last visit, this time in mid-afternoon. Patton had apparently closed shop early, eager to finally give their friend the moonflowers. He'd been waiting a while for them.

Well, 'eager' isn't exactly right...

There's that underlying worry of him disappearing after the trade is made. They're no stranger to friends leaving as soon as they aren't useful anymore. Patton's excited, they are! But it's just... what if Remus leaves after this? What if, deep down, all he wanted were the flowers?

A bell chime announces his arrival, and Patton puts a smile on their face. Though they're worried, it's a genuine smile. It always makes them smile to see Remus.

"Hey, Pat-Attack! Ya got my poison?" Remus is cheerful as he walks in, lighting up as he spots the florist.

"Yep! I brought the bouquet out already."

Patton, with gloved hands, grabs a big bouquet of moonflowers and hands it to Remus. There are more than plenty of flora for what Remus needs. He looks up from the beautiful poison, catching a sad glint in his friend's eyes. They smile, but it seems to be the smallest bit sad.

Well, that won't do.

"Oi, what's with the sad? I can f*ck someone up," Remus asks.

"What- no! Remus, I'm fine."

Remus instantly raises a doubtful eyebrow at them.

"Try again, Patio."

Patton stammers for a second before closing their mouth. They huff.

"It's nothing. I just... will you come back?"

Remus looks at them, confused.

"To your shop? Probably. You work here."

"No, not- that's not what I meant."

"If I'll come back... after the trade?"

Patton nods sheepishly. Remus' face softens.

"Ya couldn't get rid of me if ya tried! And many have tried. They fail every time, heh."

That eases the florist and the sad glint goes away.

"Now, wanna see my shop? Someone's gonna have to help me with these babies," Remus gestures to the moonflowers with his eyes.

Patton smiles wider, bouncing on their feet.

"Yes! Omg, what kind of plants do you have?"

"Anything you could possibly imagine! C'mon."

The friends head out from the flower shop, crossing the street. The air is crisp, windless and pleasantly chilly. They both wear some form of warm layer to avoid getting cold.

As they enter Dahmer's Plant Hoard and into Remus' greenhouse, they chatter excitedly between each other. The gifts of flowers and becoming friends bring them to smile fondly as they do so.

#platonic intruality #intruality #sanders sides #patton sanders #remus sanders #nonbinary patton #aro remus #ace/aro patton #pls read the warnings #pls #Intruality Week 2023 #day 5: gifts #alternate also used -> flowers #day 5 #Intruality Week #i finished this while listening to Nothing by Emilie Autumn on repeat #I sure do love giving Patton a gun #sorry this took so long to finish - got rushed #i'll write a short part 2 later on

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 7 months

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Erudite | In Your Own Time

Hi, I absolutely loved Erudite!!! If you're taking requests at the moment, I'd love to see a continuation of it where Virgil (or Patton, Janus or Remus) makes it obvious that they've been flirting with Logan, and he tells them he's not interested in that way and comes out to them as aromantic (preferably with the 4 of them being supportive and reassuring him they'll still want to hang out with him now they're in a relationship) – stormofstarlight

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: internalized arophobia

Pairings: NONE WE ARE ALL PLATONIC HERE BABEY

Word Count: 2502

As soon as Roman opens his door, he stands aside to let Logan in and closes the door firmly behind them.

"They won't stop," Logan grits out, adjusting his tie over and over again until he's more just pulling on it but he can't stop because his chest won't stop twitching, "they just—I can't—I don't—"

"Easy," Roman murmurs, taking him by the hand and leading him over to the bed, "hey, hey, just come sit with me for a moment, okay?"

Logan collapses to the bed in a thoroughly undignified heap, letting Roman coax him into a floppy cuddle. Hands run through his hair as he squeezes his eyes shut, fumbling to put his glasses on the nightstand so he can freely bury his face into the crook of Roman's neck. Roman hushes him with a seemingly limitless patience, breathing slowly and steadily as a gentle reminder. The mass of frenzied energy in his chest starts to slowly unravel.

"Please—my chest—can you—?"

Roman works a hand between them to rub gentle circles into his chest again and Logan whimpers from the relief of it.

"Oh, you're alright, Logan, it's okay." Roman's lips press chastely against his forehead. "I've got you, okay? You're right here with me. Everything's okay. You're okay. Shh, shh, that's it…just get it all worked out, okay? I'm right here. You're safe."

He is. He is safe here. Roman is right, he is safe here, everything's going to be okay. Roman understands and he's holding him gently and he can just—just—

Another kiss pressed to his temple. "You're alright, Erudite."

Logan shatters.

He loses track of time almost instantly, just curled up against Roman. Everything fades into a confusing swirl of soreness and euphoria, the faint pain in his chest not enough to drown out how good it feels to just let it go. And Roman stays with him for all of it, just rubbing his chest and kissing his hair and letting him be a complete and utter mess right there, on the bed, without any need for him to do anything other than feel. A luxury he would have denied himself and been all the lesser for it.

After a long, long time, he presumes, he sags against Roman, exhausted. Roman offers a small water bottle that he sips from gratefully.

"That seemed like a lot, Erudite."

"It was," he croaks, "I'm…thank you."

"You're very welcome. I'm glad you came." Roman kisses his cheek again and takes the water bottle. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Do you want me to ask questions like last time?"

"Please?"

Roman smiles, brushing a tear from Logan's cheek. "Does it have anything to do with what we talked about last time?"

"Yes."

"Are the others flirting with you again?"

Logan rounds his shoulders. "I don't think it counts as flirting."

"Let me rephrase: are they doing things to playfully squabble for your attention and get all pouty when you don't give it to them?"

"…yes."

Roman's chuckle is enough to coax the smallest smile back to his face. Roman sees it, of course, and nudges him gently. "Is that what's making you so upset?"

"In a way," he sighs. "I don't…I don't want to not spend time with them anymore, but when they keep—they just—"

At his groan of frustration, Roman tugs lightly on his sleeve. "Is it that they don't know that you're aromantic, or you still feel as though their affection isn't for you?"

"Both?"

Roman nods sympathetically. "Do you think it would be helpful to talk to them about it?"

"But what do I say? 'Hi, I'm aromantic, I feel like you shouldn't be giving me affection?'"

"Is that true?"

"In some ways, yes. But I can figuratively see Patton's face if I said something like that to them and—"

"Yes, quite." Roman winces. "I can see it too. Yeah, maybe…maybe not that."

"Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well, do you think you'd rather come out to them first, or tell them that they're making you uncomfortable by flirting with you first?"

"Aren't the two of them connected?"

"Well, yes, but them being connected doesn't mean they have to be simultaneous. I came out to Remus before I came out to the others—actually, I don't know if I'm fully out to the others, now that I think about it." He gives himself a shake. "But this isn't about me. I—do you think you would be okay with them knowing you were aro?"

Logan sighs, leaning back against Roman. Roman lets the pause hang in the air. "I don't know. I don't want them to look at me any differently."

"Of course not," Roman says softly, carding his hand through his hair again, "I understand. Maybe you could tell them that you'd like them to stop flirting with you?"

"But them flirting—I don't know if it's flirting. And they're—they—is it wrong that I like having them want to spend time with me? Or that they want my attention?"

"No, it's not bad."

"What if I ask them to stop and they don't do anything with me anymore?"

"I don't think that'll happen, Erudite."

The name sends a small jolt of warmth through him. "But I don't think I know the difference. What if all of their attention feels wrong?"

Roman's quiet for a moment.

"Sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize. We're just talking. It's okay. This is complicated. It's hard, and it's not—I don't think any of the things we could say, any of us, will completely make these feelings go away. That's not your fault, that's just how feelings are."

"I know," Logan grumbles, "it's the worst."

Roman chuckles again, the feeling reverberating through his chest. A small smile comes to Logan's face. "It is the worst, you are absolutely correct."

He toys with a loose thread at the end of his tie. "Does that mean I should come out to them first?"

"This isn't a binary answer, Logan—"

"Boolean."

"This isn't a Boolean answer, Logan, there are more than two options. You can also just tell them that things feel different now that they're in a relationship."

Logan frowns. "But it's not my relationship."

"That doesn't mean the dynamics of all of us aren't changing. It's going to feel different for everybody, not just you. That's not an unreasonable thing to bring up. Like—okay, imagine there's a pool of water and there are…oh, god, how many of us are there?"

"Six."

"There are six buoys floating in the pool. The ripples are going to all interact, right?"

"Yes."

"Now if we tied four of them together, or the four of them were connected in some way, that would change the ripples, right?"

Begrudgingly, Logan can admit to himself that it's a very solid analogy. He mumbles something to that effect as he curls up a little more. Roman kindly refrains from teasing him about it.

"It's different. It just is. It makes sense that things are going to take some getting used to for all of us. It's not your fault that you feel a certain way about it, even if you're happy it happened in the first place."

"I know, it's just…"

"Yeah," Roman agrees quietly when he can't quite finish it, "it is."

"Will you be there," he asks, turning to look up at him, "when I tell them?"

"Of course I will, Erudite. Of course."

In the end, it comes up in a rather roundabout way. Patton ordered a deck of pride-themed cards and they all decide to play a game with them. But first, they have to take the time to appreciate the quality of the artwork, and so they lay them all out so they can see them in their full splendor.

"These are sick," Virgil mumbles, looking at the array of cards spread out in front of them, "where did you say you got these from?"

"Well, they were only pre-order when I bought them—"

"Shit."

"Language, kiddo, but I can send you the link to the seller's website?"

"Yeah, gimme that. Maybe there's a way to get a hold of them."

"Why does this one have frogs?"

"Because frogs are awesome, Janny," Remus cackles, looping one arm around Patton's shoulders and pulling him in for what is probably supposed to be an affectionate side hug. "Aren't they?"

"Aww, that's so sweet, Remus!"

"Yes," Janus says, trying for his normal wry sarcasm and missing by quite a distance, "yes, it is."

Logan shuffles a little and Roman presses their shoulders together. He takes a deep breath in and out. He can do this.

"Ooh, hey, you know what'd be fun?" Virgli rubs his hands togheter. "Everyone pick the one you like the most."

"Frogs!"

"Remus!"

The carefully arranged cards scatter as Remus all but dives for the frog one, only caught by Janus quickly wrapping his arms around the exuberant green blur. Patton shakes his head fondly and places the gay pride card with the frogs on it in front of Remus. Remus squeals gleefully and snatches it up.

"No eating, Remus!"

"I won't, I won't, they're not mine."

Janus chuckles as he picks up the bisexual pride card. "Oh, Remus. We can make one you can eat later."

"Really?"

"Sure."

Virgil rolls his eyes as he puts the demisexual pride card in front of himself. "You're just encouraging him, you know."

"Oh, of course."

"I'll take the rainbow pride one, if no one else wants it?"

"All yours, Padre."

Patton claps his hands excitedly and picks it up, settling it in front of himself with a little wiggle. "This was a great idea, Virgil, they're all so pretty!"

"Right? I'm definitely stealing this deck from you at some point."

Where in the past that might have turned into a lecture about asking permission to joke that it wouldn't be stealing if Patton let him take it, instead is just another fond roll of his eyes. "Roman? Logan? Which ones did you two pick?"

Logan glances down at Roman. Roman gestures for him to go first. He looks at the pile. He could just take the asexuality pride, that would be the safer option.

It would.

But he hears Roman's soft voice calling him Erudite in the back of his mind and he makes his decision, reaching instead for the aroace pride card. After a moment, Roman picks up the aromantic pride card and puts it in front of himself.

"I don't think I know those," he hears Patton say, "what are those ones?"

"Aromantic," Roman says, leaning against Logan's side. "Mine's aromantic."

Remus wiggles an arm free from Janus's embrace to give Roman a high-five. "Hell yeah, bro. Lolo's got—did you want to say it?"

"You can."

"Lolo's got aroace."

"Oh. So…is that aromantic and asexual?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh. That's…cool."

Virgil snorts, reaching over to give Logan a pat on the shoulder. "Tone, Pop Star."

"Oh, no, not that I don't—I didn't mean it like that," Patton says quickly, "I've just never seen that one before!"

Logan nods. He swallows the lump in his throat and reaches blindly for Roman's hand. Roman squeezes it back. "What game are we playing?"

"Right." Virgil sits up taller. "So, it's called Kings in a Corner and we all have to promise we're not teaching Janus how to play Spite and Malice."

"Oh, that doesn't seem fair."

"No, no, I agree with this assertion, we will not be teaching you that game."

"Yeah, you'd take it too seriously."

"I would not!"

"We all know that's a lie."

"Hey, L?"

Logan turns. Virgil jogs up to him as the rest of them clear away the last of the cards. "Yes?"

"Are you—that was your way of coming out to us, right?"

"Yes, I had intended it to be."

"Well, um, thanks, for that. I, uh, I'm glad you felt like it was safe enough to do." Logan just nods. "I, uh, guess you figured out we've been…flirting with you, huh?"

"I did, yes." No need to mention that Roman helped with that.

"We, uh, I'm guessing you'd rather we…didn't."

"I think so, yes. I don't…feel comfortable with it."

"Yeah, I figured." Virgil shuffles a little back and forth in the hall. His hands twist into the pockets of his hoodie. "Just—you know that we still care about you, right?"

"Are you referring to the aftermath of me coming out, or the recent relationship the four of you have entered?"

"The, uh, the second one. We do—I—okay, I'm just gonna ask this." He takes a deep breath. "Does this have anything to do with why you asked me to get Roman when you had that nightmare?"

Logan blinks. "When did you lot get this perceptive?"

Virgil shrugs, offering a sheepish smile. "I…may have gone to ask Remus what was happening—"

"Why Remus? What does Remus have to do with anything?"

"'Cause he's the one who's always rambling about how much he loves spending time with you."

"He what now?"

"C'mon, L, you know he adores you. Not like that, but he—you two just get each other, you know? So yeah, he likes talking about it." Logan is still reeling from that as Virgil keeps talking. "So I asked him if you were upset or something and he said that he—he didn't know, for sure, but he said it was something that only Princey would really understand and when you, uh, you both chose aro cards and I sort of…put it together."

"Your logic is…impeccable."

"Coming from you, that's high praise." Virgil shuffles a little closer. "Look, I know this is gonna be weird for a bit while we all figure this out, you and Roman too, but I—you know we still care about you. We still wanna help you and spend time with you. I'm not saying that to be like 'hey, you shouldn't feel weird about it,' you can absolutely still feel weird about it, just—yeah."

"I understand. Thank you, Virgil."

Virgil nods. "I'll tell the others to back off about the whole flirting thing, but I'll let—you should be the one to decide when to tell them the rest."

Logan bows his head and Virgil grins, going off into his room. Logan watches him go before going into his own room, shutting the door. He just stands there for a moment, letting himself be. Virgil's words ring in his head along with another shudder of the warmth he feels when Roman calls him Erudite. He smiles.

In his own time.

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