#background janus sanders

[ronithesnail]

HELLO IM NOT DEAD :D

I participated in this year’s TSS Big Bang and drew for @logarhythm-bees fic “To Unearth and Back Again” :D

@tss-storytime

Link to Chapter one:

(The rest should be out soon as far as i know)

(Closeups under cut cuz i love the closeups)

[five-abs-and-one-peck]

been having artblock lately, so i made transfem! moceit

[edupunkn00b]

Spaced

WC: 1416 - Rated: T - CW: mild swearing, minor angst, happy ending

Happy Birthday, Roman. The moment I saw the video explaining Roman's birthday celebration would be late, I couldn't get this out of my head, so, here we go…

Illuminated only by the fairy lights draped along his walls, and the dull blue glow of his phone screen, Roman sat up in bed and scrolled through Thomas’ mentions. 

No big deal, just going feral…

Dayum, the LACE! Those HEELS!

Not to be a lesbian but…

Logan is the HOTTEST side, hands down!

Growling, Roman flung his phone across the room. Lucas popped up and caught it in one hand just before it hit the wall. “Temper, temper, my Prince,” he tutted before launching the phone up into the air and smashing it with his baseball bat. “You could break your phone like that.”

Roman conjured a new device and let his head fall back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut. If he didn’t look at him, maybe he would just leave.

It didn’t work. 

“Get out,” he said, listless. Roman had burned up all his rage on throwing the phone and now he just felt… tired.

“That’s it?” Lucas chuckled. Glass crunched underfoot as he stepped closer to the bed. “Where’d that fire go?”

“Catharsis.”

Laughing, Lucas tapped his bat against his orange Doc Martens, knocking away bits of glass and shattered plastic from the chipped and dented wood. Roman glared at him. “Why are you here?” 

He scooped up a handful of the glittery remains of Roman’s phone from the floor. “Do you really have to ask? Or do you just enjoy stupid questions?”

Eyes fixed on his new phone, Roman did his best to pretend Lucas didn’t exist. Switching apps, he scrolled through his history until he found today’s video.

“…This month has been wild and I’ve just been so focused on the Logan skirt photoshoot that I’ve been working on… I completely forgot there were Sides birthdays comin’ up this month…”

Roman’s thumb hovered over Thomas’ face on the screen, ready to pause but knowing that wouldn’t stop the next words from coming. Wouldn’t stop them from playing on a loop in his head as they had for the past four hours.

“…Hopefully it’ll come out the week after? I’m working on it… I completely spaced.”

Three brief knocks broke his concentration and his phone fell to his lap. Roman looked up to where Lucas had stood, but he and the destruction he’d caused was gone. Three more knocks. “Roman?” Logan’s voice outside the room was low, but modulated to be heard through the door. “Roman, I wanted to apologize.”

“What for?” he asked, filling the air as he moved to the door.

“I am in charge of the schedule,” he said, voice clipped. “I should have alerted Thomas to the tight timeline and predicted that—”

“It’s fine, Specs,” Roman muttered, picking at a loose thread on his sash. “I don’t blame you.”

“Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies…” Janus sang quietly, close enough his breath ruffled Roman’s bangs.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he hissed back, adjusting his hair.

“Now why would I do that?” Janus arranged himself on Roman’s chaise, legs crossed and one arm draped over the backrest. “When I can simply make myself at home.” Roman stepped closer, prepared to tip the Lord of the Lies right out of his seat.

“Roman?” Logan was still outside his door. Could he hear Snakeface?

Roman shook his head and let out a slow breath before approaching the door again. “Truly, Logan, we have the birthday video planned for the day after tomorrow. You made sure of it. Ultimately it was Thomas’ choice. I am fine—“

“Oh, sweet, sweet lies…” 

Roman shot Janus a look, jaw clenched, but he kept his voice even and calm. “And I will be down momentarily. I’m nearly done with this script.”

Janus shrugged and disappeared.

“Very well.” Logan was either mollified or else he correctly determined further argument would get him nowhere. “We’ll see you shortly, then.”

One hand pressed to the door, Roman listened to the retreat of Logan’s footsteps down the hall.

“I thought he’d never leave!” Remus cackled from behind him.

Roman spun around. Remus lay sprawled on his bed, head hanging off the side, a series of red and purple splotches running over his neck and down his chest.

“Your hickeys are showing.” Roman rolled his eyes and sat at his vanity. “Here,” he said, offering a golden compact and a beauty blender. “This tone suits you. Cover up.”

“Why would I want that?” he laughed, shoving the compact back at him. “Everyone downstairs will understand how I ended up with these.” Remus locked eyes with his reflection. “Today the whole world saw how hot our Nerdy Wolverine really is.”

Avoiding his brother’s gaze, Roman opened the compact and dabbed at the shadows under his eyes.

“Or didn’t you notice?” Remus added, chin propped up on his fists and kicking his feet.

“Of course I noticed!” Giving up on his makeup, Roman snapped the compact shut and stomped over to his bed. “He looks amazing but that’s not the point! This is the beginning of June and tomorrow’s my—“ Roman’s voice cracked and he plopped down on his bed, hiding his face against the cool satin duvet.

“Now we’re gettin’ somewhere…” Remus purred, inching closer and tilting Roman’s face so he wouldn’t smother himself in the plush bedding. He tapped his brother’s temple. “I could hear you all the way from my room.”

“Apparently so could Janus,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Remus laughed. “At least you weren’t feeling murderous enough that Lucas could—“

Roman heaved a sigh and flipped over onto his back. “He was here, too.”

“Pretty fly for a Light guy.” When Roman merely shrugged and closed his eyes, Remus snaked too-long nails through his hair, like a bonobo searching for lice.

Roman shuddered. Remus would just as likely put lice in his hair just to pick them out again. “You know Tommy-gun admitted to forgetting both of our birthdays,” Remus sing-songed.

“Yes, I know,” he breathed. “You’re right.” Roman opened his eyes just in time to catch his brother’s frown. Just before he plastered his face in another manic grin. “But he has time to do something proper for your birthday.”

“You know he’ll make it up to you,” Remus said, more serious than Roman would’ve expected. “Jannie wasn’t lying. You’ll always be his hero.”

“I know,” Roman muttered, nearly believing it.

“Do you need me to go get Jannie?”

“No!” he said, louder than he intended. “No, I mean…” Roman shook his head, out of words. Out of any words worthy of a prince, at least. Laying back, hands folded over his belly, he let Remus pick at his hair and they both fell quiet. Quiet enough for the sounds of the others preparing an impromptu party for Logan to filter through the gap between his door and the hallway.

Sudden laughter rang out from downstairs. Logan’s laughter. The brothers’ eyes darted to the door in perfect unison.

“Now when was the last time you heard that?” Remus murmured.

Roman sighed. It’d been far too long. “I don’t remember, actually.” He sighed again and turned to his side, head pillowed on his brother’s knee. “I know I can’t begrudge him this celebration.”

“Well, you could,” Remus drawled, scratching his head.

“I’d be a real dick if I did.”

“Ah! Language!” Remus scolded, tone serious. But when Roman looked up, his brother was grinning. “You know what’ll make ya feel better?”

“What?” Roman tried not to smile but Remus’ grin was infectious.

“LIke pus,” he winked, reading his mind. “A little tromp through my side of the Imagination will turn that frown upside down. Slaughter some slimy demon spawn?” He wiggled his eyebrows and conjured his morningstar. “I’ll even let ya borrow Lucie…”

Roman narrowed his eyes to hide his excitement. It had been a long time since he’d let loose in the Imagination. Nearly as long since the last time Logan himself had let loose.

The voices in the living room grew louder and two sets of footsteps skipped up the stairs. “Come on, Kiddos! We’re waiting for you!”

Roman stood and pulled his brother to his feet, as well. “Tomorrow we shall hunt your orcs. Tonight?” Squaring his shoulders, Roman took a deep breath and caught a glance of his own reflection. He nodded. Very nearly the picture of regality. “Tonight, we celebrate Logan.”

Remus bumped his shoulder and flung his morningstar in the air. It lodged itself into Roman’s ceiling just before disappearing. “And you really have to wonder why you’re anybody’s hero?”

“Shut up,” Roman muttered, still smiling. “Hero.”

[the-sprog]

I need to make a Sanders Sides as superheroes drawing

But not like... Roman if he were a superhero. I mean which DC/Marvel hero would they be "variants" of.

I need opinions. Send me options. I'll make polls after I get a few.

Expect Remus. He's Deadpool. That one's easy.

[dystopiagnome]

TV makes it seem like spin the bottle is such a quintessential part of adolescence but like, who the fuck has played spin the bottle since 2011

[januscorner]

Cryptidcore Remus Sanders Background

Janus

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Five: Living the Ranch Life, Just the Two of Us (again, not really, but shush)

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: probably not accurate to actually living on a ranch, I'm sorry..., Original Background Characters

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Janny! Janny! Look!” Remus yelled as he ran over to Janus who just left the chicken coop with a basket full of eggs.

“What is it, dear?”

“I look like a genuine cowboy! John lent me his vest!”

“That’s great, honey! Your boots really make the outfit.”

“They do, don’t they!” He lifted his legs to inspect the brown, knee-high boots with fringe at the side that were very cliché but one of Remus’ favorite possessions. “Anyway, John’s gonna teach me to lasso, you wanna come?”

“I promised Jane I’d help in the kitchen. But you have fun.”

“Thanks, I will!” With that Remus ran off in the direction of the cow stables. Janus chuckled as he looked after him before making his way to the main house. He went to the kitchen and placed the basket on the counter.

“Thank you, Janus. You’re a big help,” Jane smiled, as she wiped her hands on her apron and moved over to inspect his haul.

“It’s not why we’re here,” Janus quipped. “We came for a five-star hotel experience and not because Remus always wanted to see what living on a ranch was like.”

Out of the window, the two of them could see Jane’s husband John showing Remus how to tie a big length of rope into a proper noose for lassoing. Jane chuckled at the sight.

“He seems like an excitable fellow. It’s too bad you two are only staying a week. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having you for longer.”

“You’re the first person to ever say that, I think,” Janus joked, though there was some truth to that. Usually, both he and Remus had a hard time fitting in with their surroundings. The last four days they spent on the ranch, helping out where they can and learning a lot of new skills had been physically intense but mentally relaxing in a way Janus wasn’t used to from his usual routine.

“Oh, I doubt that!” Jane huffed. “You are both so nice, how could anyone not want you around?”

“Let’s just say, if we’d been born into this kind of environment, a lot of things might have been different.”

“Well, that’s obvious. Everyone would be different if you changed just one aspect of their past. I always thought that dwelling on the what-ifs was a waste of time. Live your life how you see fit and don’t look back too much. You’ll miss what’s in front of you! Now take these potatoes here. They need peeling and cutting.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Janus quietly started on his work while Jane bustled around him, humming lightly to the radio that was playing on low volume in the corner. In between the peeling and cutting, he looked outside. Remus seemed to have the time of his life, waving the length of rope over his head and running around without abandon.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him that happy in a long time,” Janus commented, more to himself than to Jane, though she did stop her own vegetable cutting.

“That so? He seemed to me like that from the start.”

“Yeah, this trip’s been good for him.”

“I mean it, Janus, if you wanna stay longer, you can! We have no other bookings for a week or two.”

Janus looked over at her and she was smiling at him with a warm expression he’s never seen on his own mother’s face.

“I appreciate the offer, Jane, but sadly we do have somewhere to be.”

“Is that so? A shame. Where you off to, if I may ask?”

“A wedding. Remus’ brother will be quite mad with us if we miss it.”

“Oh, I’d imagine! I’d be cross with you as well!” Jane laughed. “Well, then let’s make the most of our time together and cook to our hearts content, huh?” She gently nudged Janus’ side with her elbow and he smiled. Looking out the window, he saw Remus sitting on the ground, somehow tangled up in his own rope with John trying to free him. Both seemed to be laughing though, so Janus wasn’t worried.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Another month. There was no need to worry for another month. They just had to keep an eye on their destination. That’s all.

[controversialcoven]

I feel so sigma

[selfdestructivecat]

(Click for Better Quality!)

Posting at exactly 12 AM on the 25th because I couldn’t wait any longer lmao

This is my gift for the lovely @thecrowslullaby who requested some Sides at a Christmas market, as well as a healthy portion of Loceit! (because of course XD) I’ll admit it was very scary to get your name, considering how incredibly talented you are lol

But I really hope you like it, and that the Loceit is befitting your exquisite palate! Happy Holidays! <3

(Close-Up and Background Below. Image ID in Reblog)

@sanderssidesgiftxchange

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

Violets & Shy Gladioli

I was going to write this a long while ago, but I forgot. Whoops. So yeah, here's the nerdy!Roman & skater!Virgil oneshot thingy. It's more of a crackfic/drabble. Not something very serious but still fun to write!

EDIT: whoops, not a drabble. It got plot now. This turned into something else, my bad. Hurt/comfort alert. If y'all want a part two or something, just put in an ask.

{@goldnskyart hey, hey you. Yes, you. I did a thing. I hope you like the thing.}

Prompt: here (from @goldnskyart)

Pairings: romantic Prinxiety, platonic Dukeceit, Creativitwins

Trigger/Content Warning: borderline stalking? (kind of??), sexual commentary, very brief mention of vague past trauma, bullying, panic attack, slur (twice very briefly; censored at my own discretion), brief dissociation, murder threats (towards the bullies)

Description: Virgil is a skater at the local skatepark. He notices he has a lil nerd watching him.

Extra: Human AU, Highschool AU; set in goldnskyart's Skateboards & Jam AU; idk romance works, so it'll be kind of bad. I've never written a kiss scene before, so prepare for sappy cringe.

[Masterlist] | ao3 link | Next

[Read under the cut]

Roman is so unbelievably gay, like holy sh*t. Holy sh*t. He is so helpless.

Why must boys be so attractive?

At least, that's the reason he settles on as he watches a specific boy from behind a tree. It's at the local skatepark, where all the shakers and troublemakers tend to hang out. There are benches and a small playground nearby. The whole place is surrounded by oak trees and flowers. It almost feels like you're in another world there, but the sound of cars from the nearby road kind of ruins that.

It's very beautiful, oh indeed it is, and Roman is certain that the boy on his mind just makes it even prettier. Cause this skater boy is very pretty, and funny and kind- and oh, does Roman have it bad.

So yeah, there he is, watching the boy of his dreams from behind a tree near the skatepark.

No, it's not stalking- okay, it's close, but he promises that's not what it is. He's just nervous, okay? He's even tried talking to him at school, but it always ends with unintentional bickering and insulting jabs at each other. He hates how his nerves mess with his ability to function around boys. That, and the gay panic every time he sees him.

Virgil Cleome, a perfect array of purple jackets and snide smirks.

A skilled skater, by highschool standards. A baseball hat put on backwards in a cool fashion, a purple-patched jacket always on his shoulders, the one person who can wear eyeshadow under his eyes and make Roman fluster just from that. His eyes- oh, his eyes- are a heterochromic beauty. One dark green, the other something close to hazel or purple. Roman doesn't know if you could have a purple iris, but Virgil's is damn well close enough.

God, when he concentrates on something? When he's focused? Yeah, Roman could just die at that cute face he makes. The classic tongue-slightly-stuck-out. He also does this thing where he scrunches his nose up. Like, when he doesn't like something or when he's confused in a mocking kind of way. It's just- ugh. How dare he be so f*cking attractive and funny. And have you heard his laugh? Roman heard it once in passing, and he couldn't function for almost five gay minutes because of it. Like, holy hell. Jesus.

Like I said, Roman is helpless.

He feels like Eliza when he's around Virgil, and he wants him to be his Alexander.

So yeah. He's got it bad. He is entirely hopeless.

And that's why he hides behind a tree, watching his seemingly unrequited love have fun at the skatepark.

It's not like he ever notices, right?

...right?

~~~

Virgil definitely notices every time he's being watched by the cute nerd, too shy to actually approach him.

The fact that it's Roman kind of confuses him, since almost all their interactions are borderline hostile on a good day. At least, that's how it feels. Perhaps it's a rivalry, of sorts. Just bickering, insults, and weird nicknames that could pass off as pet names if you were an innocent bystander. But they aren't pet names, okay? Of course they f*cking aren't. Why would they be?

So then, why does Roman watch him shyly from a tree? He just... stares. It's borderline creepy, but that's not the issue. The issue is the fact that Virgil doesn't mind it. That he might like being watched by Roman- not in that way, don't make it weird- and likes his attention on him.

Also, how can Roman ever be so... nervous? Is that the right word?

Normally, when in school, he's always this pompous princely nerd with confidence pouring out of him. He knows what he's talking about. He's not very studious, not exactly, but he knows practically everything about theatre and its history. He knows a lot about history in general. And he's pretty great at the Creative Writing class they're both in.

His glasses are pretty cute, too. His smart little face, the red streak in his hair. The faintest of freckles on his cheeks and nose. The small moles on his neck. He's just so adorable-

Ack. Just f*cking- ugh. Why must Roman be so adorable yet so frustrating all at once?

Virgil is too gay for this sh*t. F*ck this. F*cking hell. Just- okay. He needs to chill out.

Just focus on skating. Ignore the cute little prince who keeps watching you. Just- jesus. Yeah, cause that's f*cking easy.

Virgil tries, he really does, but his mind keeps drifting to red bowties and clever comebacks. His skating buddies already know about his crush- not a crush, he tells them, he just thinks he's neat- and are frankly very tired of the obvious pining.

Hey, it's not pining- okay. Just- ya know what? F*ck you. Shut up.

Roman f*cking Solana.

Jesus.

It doesn't help that one of his friends, a fellow skater, is Roman's twin brother. So, he already sees Roman enough at school, but he also sees him whenever he hangs out with Remus at their house. They don't stay at the house for long, usually, and just go to the skatepark and meet up with Janus.

Yeah, being friends with Remus is always a new adventure. That also means the ungodly amount of innuendos and teasing just gets worse. Of course it f*cking does, it's Remus. As soon as he first heard about Virgil liking Roman in any romantic capacity, he would not leave the poor spiderling alone. That is, unless it got too close to a boundary line. Remus may have poor impulse control, but he'd never cross a boundary with his friends or family. He's not a monster.

He's a self-proclaimed freak, but not a monster.

Which brings them all to right now, a teasing Remus at the ready as Virgil messes up the same trick for the fifth time in a row.

"Dude, what's with you lately? You usually don't mess up that badly," an unnamed skater comments as Virgil gives up and sits down at a nearby bench.

Virgil rolls his eyes at the unnamed skater. Not worth his time. It's not like they're a part of his inner circle, anyway.

"He can't help it, little Virgey's distracted," Remus teases, wiggling his eyebrow.

"Shut up, Remus," Virgil grumbles.

Remus snickers at him.

"Aww, but it's so fun f*cking with you."

Virgil rolls his eyes again, this time at Remus.

"Then again, I know who you'd really like to f*ck with. Well, more like who you'd like to f*ck."

Virgil chokes on air for a moment, his face now burning red. The unnamed skater turns bright pink in second-hand embarrassment and shuffles away, deciding now is a good time to go back to skating. Virgil glares at Remus in his own embarrassment as the green-coded dumbass cackles at him.

"Remus," he scorns, voice cracking at the implication.

"Listen, you're so easy. I just- ha! You're so red!"

Virgil hides his face in his hands, groaning loudly in annoyance.

Where is Janus when you need him? God, the one time he gets too sick to come and skate with us. God f*cking damnit. F*cking bastard.

Janus is usually the one who Remus would listen to. Those two had been through thick and thin, in a lot more ways than Virgil had been with them. There are just some things, some very bad things, that unite people together in such a close bond. Going through trauma together is... it's something they hope Virgil will never experience. It's something that brought those two so close together, but both of them still wish it hadn't happened. The world tends to be a truly cruel place to those who just want to be.

Anyway, after a while of Remus tormenting Virgil, they go back to skating. Remus tends to do more dangerous stunts as if they were at a beginner level. Virgil sticks with what he knows, what he can't mess up, being what his friends call 'stupidly safe' and 'boring'.

Virgil still thinks back to Roman, who is currently hiding behind his signature tree. What he'd never admit is how Roman's attention on him makes his heart beat out of his chest. How his voice makes his heart flutter like a bunch of dumb little moths. How he makes him laugh and let himself exist. How this damned nerd makes him... just smile. He doesn't just smile for anyone. The stupid f*cking cherry-red bowtie. The spotlights in his eyes.

He and Remus may be twins, but they don't exactly look like twins. And that makes it so much easier to feel so cheesy about him. He could never feel cheesy, in any romantic capacity, about Remus or Janus. They're more like family than anything. Oh, but Roman...

God. He wanted to be the Jack to Roman's Sally.

Like I said, he feels so f*cking cheesy about Roman.

After a while of f*cking with each other like they always do, Remus decides to abruptly leave. Virgil asks where the f*ck does he think he's running off to, only to get a one-word answer. That reasonably excuses him.

"Janny!" Remus shouted as he skated away on the sidewalk in the park, heading towards the neighborhood.

Virgil shakes his head fondly. Janus doesn't even need to text or call Remus for the octopus-loving weirdo to know he needs him. A friend instinct, Virgil supposes. Part of their uniquely close platonic bond. Some weird ass sh*t.

Not wanting to skate without one of his friends, cause that just feels weird, Virgil decides to retire early for the day. He goes back to the bench he sat on earlier, setting his board wheels-up by his feet. Finally resting there for a moment, sighing as his back relaxes. He glances over at where Roman probably still is, but-

But he's... not there?

Maybe he had to leave for some reason? Like, his mom called him or something. That happens. Right? Yeah. It's probably fine.

I wish he was still here, though.

Virgil stops himself before he can pout.

Stop, stop it. You're not even friends. This shouldn't f*cking bother you. He's fine.

Why does it bother him?

It just feels wrong. Odd. He's just normally still there, and...

And he's grown attached.

Ah, f*ck me.

~~~

Roman is in theatre. He's almost always the star of the show, the central sun in a musical. When he's on stage, he truly becomes a prince. Whatever his role is, he is. It's a nice sight to see.

So yeah, he's in the Drama club, of course. What thespian wouldn't be? And they always meet on Tuesdays after school. So, as far as Virgil knows, Roman is still at school afterhours on Tuesdays. So is Remus, but that's only because their mom makes them walk home together.

Today is no different. 

Virgil somehow managed to get an after school detention. He'd been too 'disruptive' during class (he was having a panic attack, how the f*ck-), and now has to stay in the library until all the clubs got out. Great. Just f*cking great. Another reason why he hates his dumb math teacher. Because of course, of course being emotionally distressed is less important than f*cking algebra.

Anyway.

So, there's very few people he knows who have after school activities. I mean, he's not the only one ever who gets detention, but apparently today is an exception because he's the only student there that isn't a library tech. He simply listens to music with his headphones on, doing homework so he doesn't have to deal with it later. He has one headphone out, but only so the librarians can't yell at him for it. They usually don't care, but detention students are some sort of disease or something because they eye him like a pack of f*cking vultures. To be fair, Virgil isn't ever really in there unless he has detention. And, you know, your classic stereotypes and narrow-minded assumptions you see from people who need a large heap of therapy. So yeah, not a great time.

Being watched by the librarians isn't helping Virgil focus, and he's two seconds from f*cking decking one of them. The library tech doesn't seem to care. They're just shelving books and minding their own damn business. Virgil likes the tech better.

Aside from the dumbass Karen librarians, there's some sort of commotion coming from the hallway. It could be the theatre kids; the library is close by the Theater. It's all shouty and sh*t, loud and all that. The future scholars in dramatics, otherwise known as actors, tend to always be loud and mildly disruptive. It's not anything new.

Virgil tries to scribble the last of a science formula down, wanting nothing more than the school day to be over. It's not over until he gets to leave. And he can't f*cking leave yet. Stupid b*tch of a teacher. Just- ugh. Math sucks.

Virgil startles when he hears something that sounds like a slap. He sharply turns his head to the doors, which are left open until the clubs are over.

What the f*ck.

He knows his school has bullies. In fact, he's had his fair share of dunderheads picking on him for sh*t he can't control. But most of the students are gone, and only ones who aren't are the theatre or art club kids. And the art room is all the way at the other end of the school. So, the only kids who'd be here... would be the theatre kids... but he's never known any of them to- well, he's seen more gay-ass motherf*ckers in there than he can count, and they sure as hell aren't ones to be assholes unless someone actually deserves it. Or to be funny, in a sassy and dramatic way. Which is the reason why Virgil doesn't mind them. They don't really bother anyone.

Another suspiciously violent sound and a cry of pain, and Virgil flinches. He stops his work. He can't focus with all that noise, and the fact that someone could be getting hurt right now.

"Stop being so dramatic. God, you'd think he'd learn by now?" one voice complains.

"I know, right? He's so annoying! You wouldn't be in this situation if you kept your mouth shut," a second one adds.

A poorly-concealed whimper.

"Okay, that's it. We're being nice, you know we are. But I am two seconds from making your day a whole lot worse," a third one threatens.

Virgil feels stuck in his seat. God, he wants to get up and march over there, and just- what poor kid are they tormenting? It sounds like there's three of them- bullies always travel in groups- and their victim sounds so hurt.

He hears frantic mumbling, and he wishes he isn't so anxious because he'd like to help now, thank you. The worrying thing is he recognizes the first voice. It's familiar, but also not, and that's not a good sign. It's familiar in a bad way, in a 'oh god please not be them' kind of way.

"You were just saying how we shouldn't do what exactly? Hmm? Aww, why so quiet now?" the second one continues.

"I think he's scared, Jackson," says the third one.

"Oh Kayla, I think so, too."

The second one, Jackson, snickers at whoever the victim is. More mumbling. Something happens, and the first one seems to speak again, but it's muffled. The third one, Kayla, laughs at whatever the victim's reaction is.

Jesus, what's f*cking wrong with them? I need to get up and get someone. What do I do, what do I do? I don't know what to do.

Virgil still feels frozen to his seat. He hates how he doesn't know. How he can't f*cking move. Why must his own anxiety paralyze him like this? He's not even the one getting bullied. It just reminds him... of someone. It's getting kinda triggering at this point, even though he can't pinpoint who it reminds him of. He just feels so f*cking stuck.

Someone shushes Jackson and Kayla. Probably the first voice, who's probably the leader of their cruel trio.

"Hush now, stop being a baby. You asked for this when you got in my way, you stupid attention wh*re," the first one lows their voices in such a cold, cynical way.

Virgil loses it when he hears that.

Omg, omg, omg. What the f*ck. They called them a f*cking slur.

He feels so mortified for whoever their victim is.

Okay, that's it. F*ck this, f*ck my stupid anxiety. That's not okay. Those f*cking b*tches.

Virgil blindly bolts to his feet, leaving his headphones and everything behind on the table. He ignores the librarians' steely eyes and quiet shouts for him to sit down. He runs out the f*cking library, nothing but pure adrenaline fueling him. It's all of a blur of him running over there, but luckily- or unluckily, cause how are no adults handling this- the commotion isn't that far. In fact, it's near the Theater. In the hallway in-between that separates it from the library. Where anyone could see.

Out in the open and no one's helping, dear f*cking god.

And Virgil isn't exactly quiet as he runs over. So, the bullies hear the footsteps rapidly approaching them. One of them mutters something like hey, maybe we should not get our asses caught, and what sounds like three pairs of footsteps scatter around. When Virgil gets there, all he sees is a heap of white and red crouched on the ground. They look shaky and small, so damn small, and their bowtie looks a little f*cked up.

Wait, bowtie? Red bowtie. Wait- omg. Oh sh*t.

That's Princey, the cute little nerd, looking small and terrified on the hallway floor. His glasses are the only thing that don't look damaged. His clothes look scuffed up. Tears are pouring down his face, from eyes that look too dazed. A hand mark on his cheek-

Those little assholes. I'm going to f*cking kill them. I'm going to sink Remus on them, and he's going to kill them. I-

Wait... if Roman is here, then...

Where is Remus?

Virgil shoves his thoughts away as he carefully approaches the poor little thing, crouching down to his eye level. He looks distant, almost like he's somewhere else. Maybe he is. Maybe he's mentally somewhere away from all that just happened. Somewhere that feels safer.

When Virgil puts a soft touch to Roman's shoulder, however, he flinches hard. He startles, turning sharply to face Virgil. His eyes are now very aware of where he is, frantic and panicked.

Oh, Princey...

Virgil takes his hand away, going slowly so Roman can see his movements. The poor nerd is panting like a cornered animal. Scared, he looks so scared.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe now, Princey. It's just me, Virgil. You know me, yeah?"

He keeps his voice low and soft, easing just a little bit of the panic out of the poor thing's eyes.

That's better.

He still looks a little scared, though. It takes him a moment, but then recognition lights up in his eyes. He whimpers.

"Oh sweetheart, it's okay. I'm right here. You're safe now."

Virgil carefully cups the nerd's non-hurt cheek, thumbing away unnoticed tears. Princey flinches as soon as he feels touch- it's less, but still- but calms down as he realizes it's just Virgil.

Virgil would never hurt him. Virgil is safe. Virgil is good.

They may tease each other, but it's never to go as far as intentionally hurting someone.

Roman remains tense, but slowly melts as Virgil moves his other hand to card through his hair. He lets out an undignified whine, leaning into the touch.

"There, I've got you."

Roman leans against Virgil, resting his unhurt half on his shoulder. His face squished against him, letting himself relax a little more. Virgil moves his hand from his face, wrapping his arm around the poor prince. He holds him now, keeping close and cuddled in his lap. Roman's head falls until it rests against Virgil's chest. He can hear his heart beating. It sounds a lot calmer than his own. A hand still cared through his hair.

"You need to breathe, sweetheart. C'mon, breathe with me, okay?"

Roman slightly nods. He listens to Virgil's heart, trying to match his breathing to it. His lungs stutter a few times, but the constant stream of comfort and reassurance helps. After a while of finally breathing, he just collapses into a limp lump of exhaustion into Virgil's arms. He doesn't tremble or shake anymore- hardly at all- and instead focuses on the feel of warmth that his rival-friend-person gives. He doesn't know how to categorize them quite yet, but it seems pretty friendly right now.

Which makes him wonder why they aren't usually friendly like this. Maybe Virgil's just being kind. Maybe it's pity. At this moment though, he doesn't find the energy to care. He basks in the safe, safe, safe person holding him.

"There you go. Good job, sweetheart. You're okay. I've got you, I promise."

They just breathe together for a moment. Just co-exist and the world feels frozen, halted. Like nothing could get them, no harm could come their way, no evil could touch them. Roman's eyes droop, very much ready to fall asleep like this. He's all relaxed and calm now. He's okay. He's safe in Virgil's arms. His glasses screw up a bit as he somehow melts further into the purple-themed skater. He hears a soft chuckle from somewhere.

"You relaxed, Princey? All nice and cozy?"

"Mhm."

"Good, that's good. As long as you feel safe, sweetheart."

Had Roman been more awake than he is, he would've blushed at the pet name. But he isn't, so it flies completely over his head. He feels warm and floaty, and just all light. He likes this feeling. He doesn't want it to go away. Secure in safe arms. Safe, safe, safe.

A text beeps off somewhere. Roman idly wonders if his phone. He gets answered, unfortunately, as he feels Virgil move slightly against him. Probably pulling something out of his pocket. By the sound of it, it's his phone. Another text beeps. Sounds of typing. Virgil sighs, something like relief, and types more. Sends whatever he types to whoever texted him. Another text comes in. Virgil makes an idle hm noise. He puts his phone away.

He holds onto Roman tighter, a protective huff slips out. He pauses for a moment, glancing down at Princey.

"You comfortable like this, Princey? Not hurt anywhere, are you? Besides the, uh, the face."

Roman hums.

"Jus' the face," he provides.

The mark on his face still slightly burns, but it's manageable. Tolerable. Not hurt that much anymore.

"'Kay, good."

He readjusts to hold him tight again. Roman finally closes his eyes, nearly passing out from the sh*t that just happened. It doesn't process in his gay mind that he's practically sleeping against his crush. Yeah, a little too exhausted for the thought to even cross his mind.

"Hey, sweetheart. Remus is on his way, okay?"

"Mm, Re?"

"Yeah, Re. Your bro's on his way to help."

"'m fine, though."

"Princey."

"Mm, really. Safe now."

Virgil smiles at that, warmth spreading in his chest. And not from the fact that he has a body against him.

"Good that you're safe. But you went through something scary. We gotta talk about it."

Roman groans sleepily.

"If it makes you too uncomfortable, we won't. But we need to know who did the sh*t, so they can get their asses whooped."

Roman huffs out a laugh at the mention of 'asses whooped'. Not something he thought he'd hear from Virgil, but funny nonetheless.

"Little sleepy head."

"Not little."

"Could've fooled me, all sleepy and small like this. You're just a little puddle."

Roman makes a half-hearted noise of protest, but just drifts off after that. His breathing evens out, and now he's asleep. Virgil's heart melts because he feels safe enough to sleep in my arms, omg.

After a few minutes, he hears a worried shout.

"Roman? Roro?"

Ah yeah, that's Remus. Worried Brother™ mode is activated, isn't it?

"Ro? Vi, where are- oh. Okay, good. Right there. Okay."

Remus spots them on the ground as soon as he turns the corner. He barrels down the hallway to them, muttering about how they're right there, they've got each other, Virgil ain't gonna let anyone hurt him. He nearly crashes into them as he runs and dives to sit by Virgil and his sleeping brother.

"Whoa, hey. Hey, he's okay. I've got him. He's also asleep, so be careful, Rem."

The light chide dies on Virgil's tongue as Remus growls protectively at sight of his hurt twin. Virgil sighs, knowing Remus isn't going to listen to him while Roman is like this. He doesn't blame him. Roman comes first, always.

Remus catches the mark on Roman's face, and his growl intensifies. Virgil stopped carding a hand through the poor nerd's hair a little bit ago, instead just holding him like something precious. That being said, he sees the pure and horribly overwhelming worry in Remus' eyes. And decides to hand over the sleeping prince.

"Rem, here. He's okay now. He's safe and okay. Right here."

Remus takes his brother carefully. The sleepy Roman whines in protest as he feels Virgil let go of him. The emo skater makes a comforting noise and mutters about what he's doing so the other will be calm. Once fully in his arms, Remus hugs the life out of his brother and holds him in his lap. Roman lets out a pleased hum as he drifts back into a comfortable slumber. He nuzzles into his brother, clinging onto his shirt like a little kid. Remus rests his chin on top of his brother's head.

"...who the f*ck messed with him?"

Remus' glare is deadly and cold, but he doesn't look at Virgil. It's not directed towards him, anyway.

Yep, there's the Protective Twin™ mode.

"I don't know. He hasn't said anything yet, looked a little scared to."

Virgil's voice nearly matches Remus' in cold venom. It's low and cruel, and he's going to do horrible things to the people who did this.

Virgil glances at Remus as he kisses his brother's hair softly.

"I told him we need the name of those f*ckers. I technically didn't ask him, but he still seemed... he's just so tired, Rem."

Virgil's voice almost cracks with emotion near the end. Remus grunts in response. His grip on his brother doesn't waver, not even for a millisecond.

"I heard names of two outta three, though."

Remus sharply turns to him, demanding the names with nothing but a look.

"I- I heard it from the library. One of them is, uh, Jackson. The other one is Kayla, I think."

Remus' eyes wide slightly for a second at the mention of Kayla, and it doesn't take basic observation skills to realize that he may know her. Probably not for a good reason. Virgil doesn't ask.

"There were three?"

"I didn't catch the third's name."

"And where were you, then? How could you hear names but not stop this sh*t from happening?"

Remus' voice cracks mid-sentence. Tears prick at his eyes, and he glares at Virgil like it could be his fault. Maybe it is. Maybe if he wasn't a little coward, he could've stopped it. If only he didn't fail at such an important time.

"I- I was in detention, and- uh, and I heard noise and voices, but I froze and I couldn't move-"

Remus' face softens, regret flooding in as his friend stumbles over panicked words.

"Hey, hey. Sorry. I know you wouldn't hurt him."

Virgil simply nods curtly, easing himself out of his own panic.

"I found him, dazed and on the floor. Rem- Remus, he looked so terrified."

I should've got to him. Goddamit, why am I so f*cking stupid? Just- what the f*ck is wrong with me?

Remus bumps Virgil's shoulder lightly, bringing him out of his thoughts. His own tears threaten to spill. He simply sniffles and wills them away. At least, he holds those stupid tears in for as long as he can.

"...I'm gonna beat and kill their asses."

"I'll bring the bat."

The duo lightly chuckles at each other for a moment. They focus back on Roman, who looks so peaceful in his sleep. Peaceful and safe. It's almost surreal, in a way. He was just hurt by some dumbf*cks, and now he looks like nothing's wrong in the world. They almost don't want to wake him up.

He beats them to it though, groaning and slowly opening his eyes. He first notices purple patches across from him. Then the fact he's being hugged into the Aether, hugged by someone strong and... is that green on their weird vest thing? Wait, green...

He sees Remus' signature skull necklace, and everything catches up to him.

Remus is here. Re is here and I am safe. Safe. Virgil's here, too.

He feels soreness creeping in as he wakes up more.

Ugh... goddammit.

He groans in slight pain.

Wait f*ck- Virgil is here. Holy sh*t. Omg, omg-

And then a little bit of gay panic sets in.

Roman feels his face heat up slightly, and he hides it in Remus' chest. Remus, being the ever-loving twin that he is, just snorts at him once he notices him blushing. Virgil raises an eyebrow at him, but Remus just ignores it and snickers.

"Mm, f*ck you, Re," Roman mutters.

"Yeah, he's okay," Remus says.

"Pft- you good, Princey? What's got you hiding?"

Virgil's own tears are long forgotten as he watches Roman groan pathetically, oblivious to the fact he's a little flustered because of him.

"Seriously though, are you okay?" Virgil's voice softens again.

Roman peeks out from his hiding place, nodding.

"Hm. Then why don't we talk about it, if you're okay and all? We still have asses to maim."

The princely nerd huffs, sitting up in his brother's lap. He avoids their gazes as he speaks.

"'s nothing to worry about."

Remus gives him a the f*ck it isn't look.

"Nothing to- Roro, they left a mark on you. They hit you. That's something to worry about."

"Re-"

"He's right, Princey. They shouldn't be messing with you like. No one gets to f*ck with you like that."

A few seconds of tense silence.

"it's not like it's anything new..." he mumbles.

"Wait, what?"

"I'm killing them-"

Roman tugs on Remus as soon as he feels him try to get up, telling him to stay. Remus rolls his eyes affectionately, staying put and keeping a hold on his hurt brother.

"Fine. Later, then."

"Princey, I- what? Have they been hurting you for a while?"

"...I should be able to take it."

"Oh, no- no, sweetheart, that's not what I meant."

Roman blushes lightly at the pet name, but Virgil ignores it.

"Yeah."

"Oh, Princey..."

"Ro, why didn't ya just tell me? Or us? I could've used Ma's hunting knife on them! Perfect practice!"

"She would kill you if you took her knife, dumbass."

"Not if she knew it was to protect you."

Roman rolls his eyes. Virgil is about ready to steal their mom's knife himself because who the f*ck do they think they are?

Then, he remembers something he heard back when he was in the Library.

Wait, didn't they call him a- oh, oh sh*t. I'm gutting them, omg.

"Sweetheart, how long have they... called you things?"

Roman shrinks, knowing exactly what he's asking. He sheepishly shrugs. Remus makes a concerned, confused face.

"What are they calling you? Bro-bro?"

"...'s fine. It's not that bad."

"Not that- Roman," Virgil's voice bleeds with horror and worry.

Roman huffs stubbornly.

"Ro? What are they calling you?"

He stays quiet, still avoiding their gazes. He feels embarrassed about this entire situation. He should be able to handle it fine, shouldn't he? He's smart and charismatic. He's a prince, if theatre is anything to go by. Aren't princes supposed to be strong?

Isn't he supposed to be strong?

"Roman- Princey, can I tell him? If you won't, then can I?"

That nickname is sounding a little too endearing, and Roman is on the verge of giving in just from that. He meets Virgil's eyes, not expecting the utter weight of naked concern on his face. He bites his lip before nodding and hiding his face in Remus' chest again.

"They called him a slur."

Virgil feels ready to cry again as he speaks, and he's not even the one who got hurt.

"They did what?" anger bleeds through Remus' voice.

He holds Roman tighter, if that's even possible at this point. Roman whimpers as the smallest echo of the slur replays in his head.

"I'm killing them, I'm f*cking killing them. I'm burying them ten feet underground, and I'm killing them."

Roman grips Remus' vest as he tries to push the faint memory of the bullies did out of his mind.

"They don't have any f*cking right to-"

"Not new."

Remus stills. He almost pales as he processes his twin's words. Virgil, in fact, does go pale.

"Roro?"

"Oh, God-"

"Ro, bro-bro, they- they f*cking what?"

"I got a role they wanted. I always get a role they want. They don't like it when I get what they want. It's... 's fine. Nothin' new."

"Oh sweetheart, that's not fine. They- they shouldn't be calling you a slur over a cast role."

"Those b*tches-"

"I should be able to handle it. I'm- I'm supposed to be a prince, aren't I? Princes handle things on their own."

Princes are supposed to be strong, he thinks but doesn't say.

"That's... sweetheart, no. No, princes can ask for help if they need it."

"...but I'm supposed to be strong. Mom calls me her prince, and I want to be strong."

"Asking for help is strong, sweetheart. Strong is being scared and hurt, but surviving anyway."

"Ma calls you her prince because you are strong."

"She also calls you a gremlin Dorito because you have a weird obsession with demonic triangles."

"Cipher is f*cking funny-"

"He literally rips teeth from a deer, what the f*ck-"

Virgil spares a snort as the brothers briefly bicker.

"Not the point, Ro. She also calls me her duke because she said I was meant to be different from you. That you and I are both her precious royals."

Roman hums in response.

Virgil shuffles closer, sitting against Remus' arm. There's more silence. Remus is plotting death for those b*tches who hurt his brother. Virgil is probably doing the same, though he keeps glancing at Roman to make sure he's alright. Today was just total sh*t, huh?

"...they called me an attention wh*re."

Roman's voice cracks as he whispers, curling up in Remus' arms and wanting nothing more than today to have never happened. Remus growls protectively, resting his chin on Roman's head again. Virgil takes one of the nerd's hands, squeezing it softly. He squeezes back.

"Logan's dad knows the principle," Virgil says, rubbing circles on the nerd's knuckles. "Patton told me. We could f*cking get them."

Remus nods sharply as Roman seems to drift off somewhere.

They three stay there, in the empty hallway, as clubs end and other students decide to avoid the murderous looks on Remus' and Virgil's faces.

~~~

It's not even two days later when Jackson, Kayla, and Jackass Number 3 get expelled from school.

Not only does Logan's dad know the principle, but he also seems to be old friends to the district's Superintendent as well. Apparently, his dad knows some friends in high places. Good thing Virgil is intent on remaining on Logan's good side.

Roman and Virgil walk to school together, mainly because Janus is feeling better and Remus wanted to go f*ck some fences up with him. Plus, Roman's mom is even more insistent on him having a walking buddy now that she knows he'd been bullied. As overprotective as she can be, his mom cares a whole lot more about her sons than anything else.

She sneaked a wink at Roman when Virgil came over to walk with him, since his brother couldn't take him anyways. Remus must've tattled on his gay ass because now his mom kept giving this look whenever Virgil visited.

So yes, now he walks with his crush to school. As Remus is being a little criminal and doing God knows what, Roman is fighting a gay panic. Virgil's hand has brushed his twice already, and he thinks he might die if it happens again.

He drifts off into thought for a moment, wondering about a couple of days ago.

"Hey, Virgil?" his voice stays surprisingly steady as his heart thrums in his chest.

"Yeah, Princey?" Virgil glances over at him, and oh god, gay panic, now's not the time.

"Uh, when you... I mean, back when you found me in that hallway and helped me out, uh- well..."

Virgil's gaze softens. He offers a hand, and Roman takes it hesitantly. He squeezes lightly, causing the nerd exhale his nervousness.

"Um, when that happened, you kept calling me 'sweetheart'," Roman couldn't stop the smile on his face. "What was that about?"

His chest burst into butterflies as they both stop walking, and Virgil gives a fond smirk. He avoids Roman's gaze now, a light blush on his face.

"I- uh, sh*t. F*ck, sh*t," he mutters.

Roman waits, though his eager heart beats loudly against his chest.

"I, um... I care about you. You're important to me."

Hi, yes, hello. Uh, Roman's not here right now. He's currently bursting into a million fireworks.

"You- uh, what way do you mean?" Roman can feel how red his face is.

This is when Virgil looks at him, anxious and biting his lip. Flustered, he's flustered the skater boy. His face is red too, though debatably not as red as the nerd. No, Roman's face almost matches his bowtie.

Virgil takes Roman's other hand, shaking slightly from nerves. He stops biting his lip. He risks a brief glance at Roman's lips, and- omg. Omg, I'm going to die.

Both of their faces are burning bright red.

"You... want me to be your sweetheart?" Roman is breathless, and honestly a little overwhelmed by the fact his crush stared at his lips, oh Jesus f*cking Christ.

"Yeah, if you'd have me..." Virgil is just as breathless as they glance into each other's eyes, baring their souls and hearts to one another.

"I'd, uh- yeah, I'd like that."

Virgil moves one of his hands to hold the back of Roman's neck, and Roman's now-free hand rests on Virgil's shoulder. They both glance at each other's lips, hearts pounding and butterflies swarming their insides.

"Can I kiss you, sweetheart?" Virgil looks at him gay in the eyes, and Roman nearly melts.

"Yes," is all the nerd can muster.

They lean in awkwardly, considering they're inexperienced highschoolers, brushing their lips together. They each pull back from some initial shock, slowly leaning back as they gain what little confidence they have. They quickly peck each other, nerves turning into bursts of explosive colour and excitement in their guts. Roman looks at Virgil, his heart fluttering as he recovers from that. Virgil smiles fondly at him. His sweetheart- omg, he's his sweetheart now- smiling back. They're both in a daze. Faces bright pink, heads feeling light like clouds, and hands stay surprisingly steady as they gaze at each other.

It takes them a few moments before they realize that they're going to be late for school.

"Oh sh*t- uh, school's about to start," Virgil cusses as he takes his hand from the back of Roman's neck and looks at the time on his phone.

"Uh, yep. Yep, we should probably go an'- and stuff," his nerd awkwardly stumbles over his words, moving his hand off of Virgil's shoulder.

Virgil pockets his phone as they continue walking to school, picking up the pace a little. They still hold hands as they go. Gay panic roaring in their minds, a swirling mix of emotions leftover from kissing and confessing.

They don't part until needing to go down separate hallways for class.

[olliedollie1204]

a winter's tale (chapter 1)

Remus goes to a winter break party... so does his love-stricken brother, his meddling roommate, his nosy-ass friends, and, oh yeah, his totally-not-a-crush. What could go wrong?

Read here on AO3

~

“You need to tell him.”

“I’m not gonna tell him. You need to tell him.”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell him!”

“Children, please,” Janus said tiredly. “Daddy’s trying to read.”

Roman glowered at his roommate from across the kitchen table. “Please don’t ever refer to yourself as ‘daddy’ in my presence.”

“Oh, can I call you daddy?” Remus asked, chipper and bright even in the midst of yet another spat with his brother over the breakfast table. He flopped over the back of Janus’ shoulders, wrapping his arms around his chest and making obnoxious kissing noises against the back of his head. Janus patted his arm.

“A tempting offer, but no thank you,” he replied. “I’d rather not become yet another excuse why you refuse to confess your hopeless crush on Logan.”

Remus gagged, moving to step away, but Janus suddenly grabbed his forearms and kept him from leaving the conversation.

“Truly, it’d be such a shame for yet another year of your friendship to come and go without you finding the balls to inform him of your growing romantic feelings for him,” Janus continued.

Remus hissed and struggled against the hold Janus had on him.

“Ah, yes, a perfectly mature response. I’m shaking in my slippers.”

“And it’s not like he’d get mad about it!” Roman added. “Even if Lo doesn’t feel the same way, he has the right to know how badly you want him!”

“And you have the right to ask for what you want from him.”

“Maybe he’ll say he likes you too!”

“Or maybe he’ll reject you, and you can focus your attention on rebuilding your shattered pride and redirecting your emotions toward self love instead.”

Remus stopped struggling. “Oh, I love myself plenty, thank you very much.”

“Yes, I know, we share a wall,” Janus replied. Roman gagged.

“No sex talk at the table, please?”

Remus quirked his head. “Is masturbation sex?”

“You know who would love to have that fascinating debate with you?” Janus interrupted suddenly. He twisted around to catch Remus’ eye without letting him out of his grasp. “Logan.”

Remus groaned. He dropped his head against Janus’ shoulder, banging it softly. “Why are we even talking about me? Roman’s the one who almost sucked face with Virgil last night.”

“We had a moment,” Roman corrected primly. “And… yes, perhaps said moment would’ve been nicely bookmarked with a proclamation of my long-term romantic interest in him, but a bitch is anxious, okay?”

“And if you hadn’t been so distracted eating all of the cookies I literally just baked yesterday,” Janus said to Remus, “then you would’ve heard that Roman actually does intend to profess his love tonight.”

“Bullshit! That’s what he’s said before every winter break party we’ve been to for the last two years!”

“I have a plan!” Roman insisted. “Virgil always leaves parties early, and I know he walks home because he doesn’t want to ask anyone to leave the party to drive him— I’ll find him before he leaves, ask to accompany him home, we’ll have a wonderfully romantic midnight stroll, I’ll time my confession so that I finish just as we’re arriving to his house—”

“Do not make a joke about finishing,” Janus muttered just as Remus opened his mouth.

“Wherein he will have the immediate escape option of going inside if he needs time to process my declaration!” Roman finished triumphantly.

“Is that honestly your plan?” Remus asked.

“It is exactly my plan, brother dear.”

Janus hummed. “And how many times have you attempted to initiate this plan by offering to walk Virgil home, only to chicken out halfway back to his house?”

Roman stuck his tongue out in lieu of answering. And people say Remus is the immature one.

“Well, you have fun with that!” Remus announced, finally pulling himself away from Janus’ grasp. “While you’re pussy-footing around with Virgil, Jan and I’ll be starting our bi-annual semester-ender bender.”

“Unless…” Janus started, before trailing off. Remus froze and looked at him.

“Unless?”

Janus cocked his head and gave Remus an appraising look. “Unless you… follow Roman’s footsteps…”

Remus’ jaw dropped. “Oh, fuck off.”

Janus scoffed, slapping down his newspaper. “Well, at least Roman is trying to pursue his romantic endeavors. You, on the other hand, you’d rather— what? Dance around the subject until you and Logan both finish grad school and your opportunity will be lost to the sands of time?”

“Tonight’s the perfect opportunity!” Roman added. “He’ll be so relieved the semester’s over, he’ll probably start making out with you on the dance floor right then and there. Isn’t that what you want?”

A spark of something hot and sharp burst in Remus’ chest. “You don’t know what the fuck I want.”

He knew of all people, his brother and his roommate were the least likely to be shocked by his outbursts, but even they stopped the ribbing to look at him cautiously. Which Remus hated, because cautious borders on concern which borders on pity, even though he knew that they were just trying to be respectful of his feelings. Bastards.

Because, in reality… Roman really didn’t know what Remus wanted. Remus really didn’t know what Remus wanted. He didn’t know if he wanted to kiss Logan or to hold hands with him, if his fantasies of them two of them together ending with fucking or cuddling, if he even wanted Logan to do anything other than look at him and listen to him and talk with him. That’s all he could think to ask of Logan: he just wanted to hang around him all the time.

Not like he was actually going to ask Logan anything.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Roman said softly, pulling Remus out of his stupor. He rolled his eyes, half on instinct and half to diffuse the tension in the room.

“Oh, don’t get soft on me, Pissy. We all know I do what I want, when I want— and what I want is to get fucking smashed at this party tonight. Not dragged down by a bunch of sappy confession shit.”

Roman snorted, raising his hands in surrender. “Message received, Gross-feratu. All I ask is that you consider your options— can you think of any better time to have an emotional conversation with Logan than immediately after his final exams are over, when his endorphins levels are at their peak?”

“And at the risk of sounding… altruistic,” Janus added, nose wrinkling with distaste, “I believe you owe it to him to tell him how you feel.”

Remus stuck his tongue out. “Since when do you prioritize other people’s feelings over your own self interest?”

“Since the two of you brought Patton home like a stray,” Janus replied drily. “Besides, the only thing I like more than deception is blackmail. Tell Logan you want to pursue a romantic relationship with him, or I will.”

“Me too!” Roman chimed in. Remus fixed him with a glare.

“Want me to snitch to Emo Nightmare about your little crush, Princeypie?”

“It’ll be mutually assured destruction, dear brother.”

“Yeah? Then I guess you won’t mind if I tell Virgil about all the poetry you’ve written for him.”

“Well, then I’ll tell Logan about the drawings you’ve done of him.”

Remus flushed. “That’s— that’s different, you piece of shit—”

“Aw, what’s wrong? You thought we didn’t notice all the times you pulled up his Instagram just to stare at his pretty face?”

“Don’t call him pretty, zit head!” Remus snapped, bounding around the table and reaching for Roman. Roman squawked and jumped out of his chair just in time for the two of them to begin racing in circles around the dining room table like a couple of cartoon characters.

Janus sighed, flipping to the next page of his newspaper. “One day. One day they’ll kill each other and then I’ll be free.”

[earmuffstar]

Beeceit 💛 🐝

[vash-the-trans-catboy]

An Anniversary Worth Dying For

Summary: Tomorrow is Virgil and Logan’s fifth wedding anniversary. Logan has been hard at work creating Virgil a perfume that will have a calming effect to it. Unfortunately, the perfume and a poison Logan was experimenting with look very similar.

Pairings: Analogical (Virgil x Logan), background roceit (Roman x Janus)

TWs: Poison, major character death, grieving over death, hurt no comfort, warning this is an angsty one

Word count: 1358

Tag list: @prince-rowan-of-the-forest @ishipgenfics (let me know if you want to be added)

AO3

Logan has been locked away in his lab for the past few days. He is always secretive about his projects, especially when it has to do with me. Tomorrow will be our fifth wedding anniversary.

I walk past Logan’s lab for the ninth time today, hoping the door would be open. There is still a sign up that reads ‘Please do not bother me while I am working unless there is an emergency. An emergency only counts as one of the following: A fire has broken out in our house, you are seriously injured beyond needing a band-aid, or one of our close family members or friends has died or is in the hospital. If none of the above apply, please wait until I am finished to speak with me.’ It might not seem lovable at first glance, but Logan’s attention to rules has always been one of the reasons I fell for him. He has always been my stability in a world of chaos.

I let out a sigh when I see his door closed with the sign still up. I understand Logan’s work is important but I wanted to spend the evening watching a movie with him. It’s been a tradition of ours; Every year the night before our anniversary we would choose a historical movie to watch.

I’m letting the movie tradition slide for now, because I know he is currently working on a present for me.

As I’m aimlessly pacing around the halls, the door opens and Logan steps out. He looks disheveled, chemicals stain his lab coat. “Sorry I took so long. Were you waiting?” Logan asks before pulling me in for a quick kiss.

“I’m just a bit impatient,” I laugh as I answer.

“We’ll start movie night in just a few minutes. Let me shower and change out of my work clothes before we start.” Logan says before he disappears into our bedroom.

I know I shouldn’t, but curiosity gets the better of me. I look up and down the hall, making sure the coast is clear before I slip into Logan’s lab. The door gently shuts behind me.

On his work table, there are two identical bottles, both light purple in color, sitting next to each other. Near the top of the table is a label, in the same handwriting as the sign on the door, that reads ‘anniversary present for Virgil: Test number 67- perfume that smells like lavender while having a chemical compound that creates a calming effect to soothe nerves and anxiety.’ I smile to myself. I couldn’t have possibly picked a better person to spend the rest of my life with. Logan is the most thoughtful person I have ever met.

In the hallway, I hear our bedroom door open and then close. Logan’s voice blends into the background. I vaguely hear him calling my name. Before I sneak out of his lab one sniff of this perfume won’t hurt. Tomorrow I’ll pretend as if I have never smelled it before.

The door to the lab opens as I take a sniff of the bottle to the right. I quickly put down the bottle as he walks in.

“Virgil, what are you-” Logan stops short when he sees me holding the bottle. His face looks very worried, “Which bottle did you just smell?”

Oh shit. I didn’t want Logan to know I knew about his surprise. The room starts to shake, most likely from the anxiety of being caught.

“The right one. Why?” Some of my vision goes dark for a second. The room is spinning now.

“No. No. No. No.” Tears start rolling down Logan’s face as he rushes towards me. “This can’t be happening.”

I don’t understand what’s going on. The floor slips out from under my feet. I black out. A second later I woke up in Logan’s arms. His face is blurry as is everything in the room.

“L-Logan? What happened? Why are you crying? How did I end up on the floor? Why won’t the room stop spinning?” Red spots coat my vision. I take a deep breath only to feel a burning sensation in my lungs. I start to cough to try to get rid of the pain but it only makes it worse.

“I’m so sorry. This wasn’t meant to happen. Why did the bottles have to look so similar? I knew it was stupid to keep this failed experiment lying around.” Logan sobbed as he held onto me.

Every breath was excruciating. It felt like there was a hole burning through my lungs.

“I love you, Virgil.” My vision blacked out again as Logan repeated ‘I love you. I love you’ over and over again.

I tried to say it back but my vocal cords felt like someone lit them on fire.

“I lo-” After two syllables my voice cut out. Everything went dark for the last time.

………………….

The day before our fifth wedding anniversary was the worst day of my entire life.

I walked into my lab to find Virgil staggering after he sniffed a bottle of deadly poison. His death was completely my fault. Next to the poison was a bottle of anxiety-calming perfume. I was the idiot who put them side by side.

I ran over to Virgil. Tears already streamed down my face. Right as I reached him, he collapsed in my arms. Words tumbled out of my mouth. Streams of apologies. But no apology will ever make up for this. The love of my life is dead, and I have to live with the memory that I killed him.

I held him for 15 minutes before he died. His breath sounded like someone was strangling him. His face turned bright red and tears ran down his cheeks. His body convulsed as the poison took effect. His lungs breathed in a pattern that should not have been possible for a living being. Even during Virgil’s panic attacks, his breathing had never sounded this haggard.

15 minutes after smelling the poison, Virgil went limp in my arms. I pull his body closer, crying over his corpse. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. We had our entire lives to spend with each other. I’m never going to hear you laugh again. I’m never going to hear you make a snarky comment again. I’m never going to hear your dry humor or your sarcasm again. Please let this be a bad dream. I’m going to wake up and you’ll be there next to me alive and well, right?”

The funeral was small. It was only Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton, and myself. Virgil was never close to his family. We didn’t bother telling them he had died. I don’t remember much of the ceremony. I sobbed through the entire thing. Everyone held me tight and cried with me.

After a week I couldn’t stand the quietness anymore. At 3 am on a Tuesday, I rang Janus and Roman’s doorbell, then hysterically cried on their doorstep until they answered. Worried faces greeted me as they pulled me inside. Everything has been duller since you left. Roman wrapped me in a blanket. I sat sandwiched between the two of them for hours crying until I finally fell asleep. It was the first time in a week I slept more than 5 minutes.

The next morning when I was half asleep I heard Janus whispering on the phone. Two hours later, Patton and Remus arrived with a few boxes. Roman sat with me, running his fingers through my hair as they unloaded my stuff into the guest bedroom.

“We all think it would be best if you weren’t alone for a while,” Roman whispered to me.

My voice was hoarse from all the crying and screaming. The first real sentence I spoke in a week came out broken. “T-this isn’t re-real, r-right?”

Janus took my hand and gave me a look of pity, “I’m sorry, honey, but it’s real.”

I closed my eyes in defeat. There shouldn’t be any universe where I have to survive without my Virgil.

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 15: Live to Tell

Prev - Live to Tell - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3378 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, non-graphic discussions of abuse

Janus depositions Logan in preparation for their court battle with Kelly. He tells Janus everything. Well, nearly everything. Everything relevant, Logan is certain.

I have a tale to tell Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well I was not ready for the fall Too blind to see the writing on the wall

A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned 'Til then, it will burn inside of me - Live to Tell, Madonna

Roman stayed until Saturday afternoon. They spent the night on the couch, talking and… to be honest, each had dozed a bit, as well. Logan had fallen asleep first, warm and safe, wrapped in Roman's arms, holding him just as closely. The next morning, the boys didn’t question Roman’s presence and simply greeted him like he belonged there.

Despite his worries, they’d had a blissful weekend together, with cake and leftovers for breakfast, and a thrift store hunt for books and Doctor Who DVDs later in the day. Saying goodbye to Roman had been difficult, with wild fantasies of making a permanent space for him flitting through Logan's mind. But Remy's scheme to meet up the next weekend for the movie gave them all something to look forward to.

Remy’s housemate Emile came by Sunday afternoon after spending the weekend with his parents and they’d all fumbled their way through making sushi with the kit the boys had given him for his birthday. Emile had even gifted him a little matcha tea set, the sakura petals on the bamboo finish perfectly matching the kit from his sons.

By Sunday night, Remy, Virgil, and Emile had driven back up to Bellingham, and Logan had dropped off Patton at Kelly’s for her week with him. Neither had mentioned the papers. 

He took his time getting ready for bed, drawing out the rote tasks. He flossed twice, refilled the hand soap bottles, changed out the towels in all the bathrooms. The weekend’s busyness, his sons’ laughter filling the house—and, thanks to Roman, his own—had pushed away his worries about Kelly’s filing and Monday’s deposition with Janus.

Now that he was alone again, it was impossible to think about anything else.

More times than he wanted to admit, he’d picked up his phone, tapping open his ongoing chat with Roman, and tried to imagine what he would say if he invited him over. Twice, he’d even started to type out the message, but no matter how he worded it, his request sounded… disrespectful. Dirty. Hey, Ro, my sons aren’t home. Wanna come over?

Shaking his head, he went downstairs to finish the laundry he’d neglected that weekend. Once that was done, he moved on to strip all the beds and, in a few loads, had washed all the sheets and blankets. By the time he’d folded the last comforter, still warm and smelling like that Saturday Roman had found him at the laundromat, the first birds had begun their morning calls. Logan made his bed, brewed a fresh pot of coffee, then stood in front of the kitchen window to watch the sunrise slowly open the blooms in his flower box.

When the bottom edge of the sun cleared the horizon, Logan rinsed his cup and got ready for work. If he left soon, he could take the bus in and not need to worry about the traffic over the bridge.

~

“A little odd to be on the other side of one of these, isn’t it?” Janus remarked as he sat across from him in his office. He tried not to listen when Janus asked Beatrice to ensure they weren’t disturbed, though he’d appreciated the way Janus had asked him to bring a stack of files from his office as a subtle subterfuge.

“More than a little,” he nodded.

Humming, Janus flipped through folders on his desk. “I see from the proceedings you represented yourself—”

“You have my court records?” Logan interrupted, eyes wild as he tried to recall what other information might be hidden away in those files.

Janus looked up, a faint frown wrinkling his brow. “I’m your attorney.”

“Right, yes, of course… I—I don’t mean…” He looked down at his hands. Janus was certain to rescind the Assistant AIC offer after all of this. This was even worse than the review of his Q-Law cases.

“Did you consult with anyone?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I… took care of it. Kelly was the petitioner. She… It was… I just wanted it done.”

Logan wasn’t sure if Roman had warned him or not, but Janus started very slowly with the rest of his questions, building out a chronological list of events in their marriage and separation. He captured the boys’ names and birthdays—they’d been redacted from the court record. They talked a bit about Virgil’s birth and his surgeries. Logan even told Janus how Virgil’s genetic screening had showed a hereditary component to the defect in his diaphragm. He admitted how, afterward, he’d had his own genome screened and confirmed he carried the gene.

Janus didn’t ask for more details, so he let the rest of that thread drop.

Instead, he began to ask about the… quality of his relationship with Kelly. Logan bit the inside of his cheek, fighting for control. He’d just managed to win a sliver of respect from his boss. He couldn’t… He couldn’t just throw that all away with some overly emotional reaction.

“We… we disagreed on…” Logan sucked in a slow breath, forcing his twitching hands to calm. Janus’ eyes flicked down to his lap and made a note in the margin of his yellow legal pad. “On a few important things about the boys.” He shrugged, “Like all married people, I suppose.”

He nodded slowly, writing without taking his eyes off of Logan’s expression. “Your parents… disagreed a lot?”

In one breath, Logan was back in his parents’ old rambler in Oregon. He sat on his closet floor, making flashcards, a heavy AP History textbook open on his lap. Surrounded by hanging clothes, with his blanket shoved against the gap at the bottom, his father’s shouted words and his mother’s occasional responses were muffled and difficult to make out.

But the tones were unmistakable. And far too familiar. 

Logan couldn’t stop his hands from shaking so he crossed his arms over his belly, gripping and releasing the sides of his shirt. “Excellent motivation to get a scholarship to UW and move out on my own,” he said, an attempt at levity. His voice cracked at the end and Janus simply made another note on his legal pad.

Janus tapped the end of his pen against his lips and went quiet. Logan had observed him cross examine reticent witnesses often enough to have seen this tactic of his before. Given enough time under his ‘I have all day, how about you?’ gaze, even other attorneys who knew it was coming would start to sweat and say anything to fill the silence.

Logan was well practiced at holding his tongue.

“You were married for…” Janus flipped back to the front page and did the math. “Eighteen years.” Faster than Logan had expected, he’d moved on to the ‘I already know everything, you might as well answer my questions’ stage. “This is difficult. Difficult to talk about, difficult to re-experience,” he said, his voice softer than Logan had braced himself for and his eyes darted up, an unfamiliar expression on his boss’ face. “Believe me, I understand.” 

He nodded, then lowered his head and waited for Janus' next question, shields up and ready.

“Talk to me, Logan.” Without seeing his face, it almost sounded like a plea. “What made you finally decide to divorce?”

Eyes closed to avoid the inevitable ridicule on Janus’ expression, Logan forced a slow, deep breath. Still, his voice shook shamefully when he spoke. “How much of this has Roman already told you?”

“None." Logan looked up, the honesty in Janus' voice too strong to ignore. “Roman can be a bit of a drama king—”

“Excuse me?” Logan’s voice was sharper than he’d intended but instead of looking angry at his interjection, Janus merely looked surprised and… pleased?

“As is my Remus,” he said, the tone of that ‘my’ hanging in the air, as though he noted some other parallel between the brothers. Janus’ smile morphed into a bit of a smirk. “As am I, so I’ve been told.” Janus watched his reaction with interest and for a moment, Logan could have sworn his boss was about to add him to his list of ‘drama kings.’ Logan looked down and smoothed his tie for the sake of having somewhere else to look. “Personally, I think the world could use more drama kings,” he continued. “You never need doubt where you stand with us.”

Speak for yourself, Logan thought but did not say.

“Regardless.” Janus grew serious. “Unless you asked him to tell me something personal you’d shared with him, Roman would not breathe a word of it.” He lowered his legal pad. “And, aside from a very short list of legally required disclosures, the same is true for me. Your secrets are safe.”

He pinched his sides, a distraction from the tears already burning the backs of his eyes. Janus waited, but when Logan didn’t speak for several long moments, he prodded. “To do my job, Logan, I need to know everything.”

Logan deflated, the last shreds of his pride spooled in a tangled mess on the floor. “I know,” he sighed. 

“Was it more than 'disagreements' between you?” Janus asked again, even softer this time.

Logan’s bottom lip trembled, but the harder he tried to control it, the worse it got. He nodded and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Much more.”

~

Eighteen years of practicing law plus two decade’s worth of his own personal experiences had muted Janus’ expressiveness in the face of misery. Remus worked hard to ensure it was a mask he could drop, that he had spaces where he was free to cry and shout and stumble and laugh. His husband spent an inordinate amount of energy and love ensuring he would not be swallowed up and consumed by his jaded attorney façade.

Janus clung to that jadedness now, letting it carry him as he fought to keep a mostly neutral expression while Logan recounted the gradual descent from storybook romance to a narrow escape from Hansel and Gretel’s witch.

It was a familiar story. While Q-Law received most of its funding from its flashier cases, the national attention garnered through their work on major legislation, fancy galas, and private benefactors, from a caseload perspective, a plurality of their work was in family law. Domestic violence cases in particular. Q-Law was there to serve a need in the queer community and, tragically, that’s where the greatest need lay.

What made this story different for Janus was he didn’t need to ask if anyone at his client’s workplace had the faintest inkling of just how bad, just how dangerous his home life had been.

Janus had had none.

Shame bubbled in his chest as Roman’s tight-lipped admonition ran laps through his mind. ‘Maybe you don’t actually know him as well as you think you do.’ This interview proved he most certainly did not.

He turned to a fresh page. “And which of these injuries did you actually seek care for?” Logan curled in on himself, the implied accusation harsh even to Janus’ ears. “That came out wrong, I’m sorry. I simply wish to retrieve hospital records,” he said.

“Do you—” Logan shivered and Janus checked the thermostat. The office was set to 71°F. “Do you really think that will be necessary?”

He frowned and sat back in his chair. Janus was accustomed to clients, particularly DV clients, demonstrating resistance to reliving and retreading these parts of their lives. But Logan was a lawyer. A lawyer who, thanks to his now explainable eagerness to pick up so many of the toughest DV cases, was arguably the most experienced DV trial lawyer in the firm.

What wasn’t he getting about this?

“We’ve only seen the initial petition, Logan,” Janus began as carefully as he could. A spark of annoyance he couldn’t quite suppress buzzed in his mind. “If she alleges any sort of—”

“I never hurt her. Not even—” His voice fell away and his eyes were drawn to the door. Fuck, he was losing him.

Janus looked down at the desk between them. He stood, wincing when Logan flinched. He brought his legal pad and a pen and sat at the other end of the couch, nothing between them now but a few feet of overstuffed leather sofa.

“What can you share, Logan?” he asked softly.

“I…” He sighed, shoulders curled over and he held out his right hand. A vague recollection of a college sports injury explaining away the titanium pins that triggered court metal detectors flicked across Janus’ mind.

“I had surgery at Evergreen for my wrist fracture. Started at the emergency room. There will be X-rays.” Janus’ pen flew across the page. “I left… AMA from Recovery.” He massaged the bone just above his wrist and from here, Janus could see the three little white lines from the incisions. “Kelly came by with the kids and… drove me home.”

“She convinced you to leave against medical advice?”

Logan looked away. “The doctor had called a social worker because my injuries were ‘inconsistent with the patient’s reported cause.’”

Janus nodded slowly and made a few marks on the page before flipping back to review the full list of incidents Logan had recounted. “This was in October 2011?”

“After Patton’s first diagnosis.”

He nodded again and flipped back to the mostly blank page, pen hovering over the sheet, ready for the next set of records to requisition. When Logan remained silent, Janus looked up. “Whenever you’re ready,” he prompted gently.

“That’s it.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’” He stared at Logan, brow furrowed as he turned again to the pages detailing the times their arguments had turned violent. The times that bitch had turned violent.

“That was the only injury for which I sought care.” His voice was stiff. Formal.

“What?” Janus hissed, calm façade cracking as he scanned the list. “You—your—The fractures in your hand?” Logan shook his head, eyes on the floor. “Your concussions, the burn, the—the tear in your lobe, you—”

“Dermabond surgical adhesive was sufficient to stop the bleeding.“

Janus scoffed. “You can’t just order that shit from Amazon!”

Logan merely shrugged. “It’s a basic veterinary supply. It isn’t that difficult to acquire.”

“I see,” Janus said more to his notepad than his client. Logan had used fucking vetbond on himself then went to work the next day like nothing had happened. His employee. His co-worker. Sour acid churned in his stomach. 

‘He’s your friend, too…’

Roman had been wrong. Janus had not been his friend.

He watched Logan over the top of his legal pad. Shame crawling up his spine, he wondered how many times he’d fucking laughed when Devin had sat where Logan was now and remarked how clumsy their quiet co-worker must be to so often have had some sort of limp or bandage or…

No. He couldn’t undo any of that. But he could fight like hell for Logan now. 

“Do you have friends who would be willing to support any of this with contemporaneous reports?” he asked, trying a new tactic. “Neighbors? Anyone you’ve been close with who knew what had really happened and would give a statement?”

“No,” Logan said. His fingers tapped the side of his knee in what more closely resembled a tremor than a fidget.

“What makes you so sure they’d be unwilling to come forward?” Despite humanity's general unwillingness to rock the boat even to save a person from drowning, Janus couldn’t imagine everyone in Logan’s life would be so reluctant to help. With the notable exception of Devin, Logan had always been kind and thoughtful to everyone in the office, unerringly polite and considerate. The first to pass around a card for birthdays or tragedies, despite the glaring omission of his own. There had to be someone.

“We could ensure their anonymity if they’re concerned about… social ramifications. She wouldn’t need to know they’d said anything.”

It was like convincing a rock. He wouldn’t even look up. “Logan, we’ve done it before. Domestic violence situations, particularly when witnesses consider both parties friends and—”

Logan shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I mean I… I have no… confidants from that period of my life. Your, ah…” Logan crossed and uncrossed his legs then wrapped his arms around his stomach, hugging himself. “Your brother-in-law is my first friend in a very long time.”

He looked down at his statement. “You… “ Sighing, he set the legal pad face down on the coffee table and turned in his seat to face Logan properly. “You have been through so much and…” He met his eyes. 

Janus used to wonder how people could be so blind when the people around them were suffering. How people could waltz through their days, ignoring the obvious hurt of those around them. But he’d been just as bad. Just as oblivious. “I'm sorry I never noticed the signs. That I never tried to help you.”

Logan looked away, rubbing the fingers of his left hand. Janus had always thought it a nervous habit. Now he wondered how much the mis-fused bones pained him. And how much of it was a reminder of that fight.

Finally, Logan shrugged. “I made every effort to ensure there was nothing for anyone to notice.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then Janus stood. “Can I make you some tea?” Logan looked up, surprise cutting through his mask. Janus smiled and spread his hands, gesturing toward the little kettle and bamboo box of matcha. “I know I could use a cup. I imagine you could, too.”

Logan huffed. “Got anything stronger than tea?”

Shaking his head, Janus chuckled and pulled his five-year Alcoholics Anonymous chip from his pocket. “Nope.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, Logan. We… we’ve both had our secrets, haven’t we?” Janus checked the kettle and clicked it on, then pulled two mugs from underneath the tea caddy. “How long have we known each other?”

“Almost twenty-two years.”

Janus shook his head. “Far too long to not actually know each other.”

“Perhaps,” he said. 

The water rumbled in the kettle and Janus whisked it into the powder in the chawan, the steam carrying the bright, clean scent through the room.

“May I help with the tea?” Logan began to rise. “You don’t need to serve me.”

“Yes, actually, I do.” Janus looked over his shoulder and winked. “You’re older, so I pour the tea.”

Sitting back down, Logan shook his head, a tiny scowl wrinkling his brow. “I can’t be that much older than you.”

“Very nearly nine months,” Janus smiled as he poured Logan’s tea, then his own, and set both cups down on the table.

Logan’s face couldn’t decide if he should glare or grin.

“Don’t worry,” Janus nodded and waited for Logan to pick up his cup. “I promise I won’t rub it in too much.”

Smiling, Logan took a sip and set down his cup. 

“Besides, it’s bad manners to mock the elderly.”

A sudden belly laugh burst from the ordinarily quiet man.

“Careful there,” Janus murmured, sipping his tea. “Too much excitement at your age can't be healthy.” Shoulders shaking, Logan laughed until there were tears in his eyes and Janus passed him another tissue.

Janus slid a little closer on the couch and smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really laugh.”

“Well,” Logan nodded and raised his cup. “Here’s to twenty-two more years of hearing it.”

By the time they finished their tea, the clock on Janus’ desk chimed six times. “Damn,” he muttered, pulling out his phone and confirming just how late it really was. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your boys.”

“No,” Logan shook his head, turning the little cup in his hands. “Not at all. Patton is at Kelly’s this week. I’m not needed.” Janus frowned at his phrasing and Logan fumbled to explain. “He carpooled after school, and the…” He looked down and the desk lamp cast long shadows across his face, exaggerating the dark circles under his eyes. “The quarter’s started at Western.”

“Hmm.” More shaken by Logan's words than he wanted to admit, Janus took their empty cups and placed them in the basin on the bottom shelf of his tea caddy. “Any plans for dinner, then?”

-

Taglist: @crossiantgay

Ask to be added :D

[januscorner]

Cryptidcore Janus Sanders Background

[naminethewriter]

One's Hometown, One's New Home

Chapter One: Quiet Meeting

Masterpost | Next | Ao3

@tss-anxceit-week

Summary: Janus’ hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they’re usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can’t help but chat with him a little. Doesn’t hurt that he’s good looking as well.

Content Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, hello Janus. I hope you are having a lovely day?”

Janus looked up from the book he was looking through for damages. He had already done the same for a few books that had been returned to the library within the past week and only found a few, not noteworthy wrinkles and tears.

“Judy, welcome,” he greeted the old woman standing in front of his station with a smile. “Yes, it’s nice and quiet today. No school class coming through.”

“Oh, those little rascals aren’t so bad. It’s nice to see the town so lively.”

“I could see your point if this wasn’t a library and people are supposed to stay quiet in here.”

Judy chuckled. “They’re just kids, cut them some slack.”

“I am,” Janus argued. “They’re respectful with handling our books, at least. But I can still appreciate the days where I don’t have to deal with them, right?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s only fair. Anyway, I’ve brought you something.” She reached down next to her and pulled up a basket that she set on his station. “I made lemon bars for my son’s visit last weekend and I might have gone a little overboard. Take these and share them with the others, won’t you?”

Janus peaked under the cloth covering the basket and a nice smell spread around him. Judy’s baking was legendary, so he wasn’t about to turn her down. Instead, he was considering simply not telling his coworkers about the treats at all.

Then again, he couldn’t eat all of those by himself.

“Will do, Judy. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, no need for that. Consider it a thank you for all the help you’ve given me.”

“Speaking of which, are you looking for something in particular today?”

“Well, I may have heard that you got a new shipment in last week,” she began with a glint in her eye and Janus knew what her question would be before she asked it.

“Yes, we now do carry that new mystery novel of your favorite author,” he chuckled and her face lit up with excitement.

“Wonderful! It’s in the usual isle then?”

“It is.” He held up his hand when she was about to hurry away. “But I have a second copy right here with your name on it.” He pulled out the book in question and handed it to her.

“Oh, you are a godsent, Janus!” Judy laughed and Janus had to raise his finger to his lips to remind her she was in a library. “Right, right, I apologize. Thank you for saving it for me.”

“You’re very welcome. I can only let you borrow it for two weeks though, we already have a small waiting list.”

“But you said it was on the shelf?”

“I did and it is, but that copy can’t be borrowed for now. At least not while it’s in such high demand. We have three copies. One which will stay here, and two that are available for checkout.”

“And you still saved one for me, how sweet. I’ll make sure to return it as soon as I am done with it then.”

“Please do.” Janus scanned Judy’s library card to make the checkout official before waving after her as she left the building in hurried steps, very eager to start the book as soon as she got home. Janus quietly chuckled as he watched her leave before he got back to work.

Wednesdays were usually his quiet days. They opened and closed and hour later than other weekdays and the local elementary school’s reading program had the teachers bring in their brats every other week on Mondays, Tuesdays or Thursdays. Janus hadn’t lied to Judy, he didn’t mind the kids all that much, at least not this far into the year when they finally learned to respect not only the librarians but the books themselves and he much more rarely found scribbles on brought back pages.

Still, he preferred the days when they didn’t come.

So, he enjoyed it, working quietly until the automatic doors slid open again to let in another visitor. Janus looked up fleetingly, thinking it would be just a regular coming through, but instead he saw someone he had never seen before.

Which happened rarely. This town wasn’t the smallest, but Janus knew pretty much everyone who lived here at least vaguely enough to recognize them.

Considering the latest rumors, he did have a good idea of who the stranger was.

The man – or male presenting, Janus supposed – stopped after crossing the threshold, taking a moment to look around and orient himself. He wore a hoodie that was too large for his frame with the hood pulled up, so Janus couldn’t make out much of his face, but he could tell that he was quite tall despite his slouch and rather slim built.

And pale in a way that almost seemed sickly.

(Not that Janus fared much better.)

The stranger spotted Janus after a few moments and hesitantly approached.

“Uhm, hey,” he greeted once he stood in front of Janus’ workstation. He kept his voice quiet, and Janus was intrigued by his low baritone.

“Welcome!” Janus greeted with a smile, doing his best to hide his staring. “You must be the new tenant of Mrs. Talbot. Are you adjusting well enough to our quaint town?”

“Why the fuck do you know where I live?” The stranger had taken a step back, glaring at Janus with eyes that he could now make out were a deep brown.

“We don’t get a lot of new people here, so if someone moves in, it’s usually the talk of the town for a bit. And I’m a central person in terms of gossip. It’s nothing personal, I assure you.”

“It’s creepy.”

Janus shrugged. “I can see why you’d think that. But that’s just how it is here. And you’re even the special kind of newbie, so everyone’s doubly interested.”

“What does that mean?!” the stranger hissed. “How am I special?”

“Well, there’s only a few reasons people come here. The first is that they’re moving back. I myself belonged to that category after I came back after going to college out of state. Has the rumor mill going about all the changes that happened in the time they were gone. I, for example, got a lot more into fashion. And grew my hair out. I got so many questions about how I took care of it, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Janus’ rambling seemed to have calmed the stranger down a bit, since he now came over to lean against the station instead of keeping his distance as if Janus was about to jump him.

“Then there’s the people that get dragged here by other locals. Partners, mostly. They often have to endure some scrutiny to see if they’re good enough for whoever brought them here. We have a lot of old ladies with strong opinions on what a good relationship is, so look out for them if you ever start dating while you’re here.

“Third,” Janus was counting down by his fingers now, “are the workers. Transferred to a backwater town like ours often leads to grumpiness, so you can usually tell who’s here because their contract demanded it. Sometimes they warm up to it, often times they don’t and transfer out again as soon as they can. Second to last there’s the nature people who just want to live somewhere with a bunch of trees. And we got plenty of those. And last but not least, there’s people like you. You just show up one day, with no roots, a past you don’t want to talk about and wanting as little attention as possible.”

“You sure make a lot of judgements without knowing anything about me,” the man murmured, but he didn’t look as put off as he did at the start of their conversation.

Janus shrugged. “Maybe. It comes from experience, however. I helped out here even before I finished school and it’s a gathering space for a lot of people. I developed a good sense of intuition that way. Plus, my father was like you, too.” The stranger simply raised an eyebrow. “It’s a long story, maybe I’ll tell you about it if you’d invite me out to a drink sometime.” Janus smirked as the other chuckled.

“Your quite forward, aren’t you.”

“I know what I like and I don’t like beating around the bush.”

“You don’t even know my name.”

“You could change that.”

That startled another chuckle out of the stranger. “It’s Virgil. Nice to meet you.”

“Janus.” He took the offered hand and shook it firmly. “I look forward to getting to know you, Virgil.”