#intrulogical fic

[anxiousgaypanicking]

What You Need

Synopsis: Two days without eating and three without sleeping sounded like the normal schedule for college student Logan Berry. He’s in class all day and works all night just to barely pay off his rent every month. Constant bills leave little room for bare necessities, and it’s clear that his current lifestyle is very damaging. While looking for solutions, he comes across one that seems… mediocre at best, but he’s desperate. What is this solution? A sugar daddy.

Taglist: @witchesgetstitchesblog @book-limerence @romans-dull-creativity @seeyoube @dragonheart905 @some-distant-star @rr170 @nightweirdo @librowyrm

Part Seven

Masterlist

"Wake up, kitten," Janus coos, hands shaking Logan's body. Logan groans at the feeling, swatting Janus's hands away, before he turns over on the floor. 

He'd sacrificed his lackluster bed for Janus's comfort; the latter had been staying with Logan for a while, the two of them keeping each other company. There'd been little talk of the twins; they were more preoccupied asking each other odd questions and poking around the other's life out of sheer curiosity. 

"C'mon, kitten,"  Janus ushers, with more bite this time, "you can't stay asleep forever. Especially because you have somebody on the way." 

At this Logan perks up, grabbing his glasses from nearby and pushing himself to sit up, where he sees Janus waving his phone at him. A very clear message from Remus reads 'good morning kitten,' and Logan flushes as he pieces together why Janus was calling him such. 

"Janus! That's a complete invasion of privacy!" Logan exclaims, as he lunges forward in a desperate attempt to grab his phone. Janus holds it up and just barely out of reach. 

Janus cackles as Logan struggles to snatch it back, though Janus just pulls his arm away in response, teasingly waving the phone back and forth. 

"It's not my fault," Janus huffs, placing his other hand on his heart as though he's but a victim to be sympathized with. "If you don't want someone to read your messages, then you should put a password on your phone." 

Despite his words, he's grinning wide, and Logan frowns at Janus's solid point. 

Logan's never had much of a reason to have a password on his phone. He was never around people that would snoop. Not until now, apparently. 

Finally, with another laugh, Janus slowly lowers Logan's phone down and allows the latter to swipe it, musing to himself as Logan quickly reads over the texts, cheeks growing pink as they travel down the screen. 

Aside from the rather flustering good morning message, there's a second typical one that includes Remus begging him to come over, even though such a thing should have been assumed considering Logan's been coming over every weekend, sticking to the agreed-upon schedule he and Remus made on a whim. And every weekend Remus has fawned over the collar Logan's kept on, letting Remus choke him with it and mark him up around it. 

He really only takes it off to go to class. 

"I didn't look farther than those messages," Janus explains, as he pushes himself to stand. He grabs some of Logan's clothes from the small pile Logan has, and takes his time looking over the shirts, before settling on one. He casually takes his own shirt off, tossing it onto the floor and slides one of Logan's on. They're nearly the same height, and essentially the same size, with Janus being a little more average (while Logan was deathly thin). "Your phone kept lighting up, and it was bothersome." 

He pushes his hands above his head, stretching dramatically, before cracking his neck and grinning at the plethora of pops. 

Logan scoffs in response. It's more playful than genuine, as he know by now that even if Janus did read farther, he wouldn't be judged. At least, not outwardly. The teasing is just a little embarrassing. 

"That's not justification for betraying my trust," Logan huffs, which has Janus sticking his forked tongue out at Logan, before promptly moving on. 

"I was planning on going over there to spend some time with Roman today, so I'll drive you over there," Janus states, scratching at his stomach. "Take your time getting ready; we can leave whenever, but you know how Remus is. It's probably best to not keep someone so impatient waiting." Janus bends down to pinch Logan's cheek playfully, wiggling his face back and forth. "You want to be a good kitten for him, after all." 

Logan hits Janus's hand away, and frowns at him as Janus leaves the room, taking his time getting dressed and grooming himself before he heads into the small kitchen, where he sees Janus eating handfuls of cereal out of a box. He's sitting on top of the counter. 

"You should really get some more food," Janus comments, as he shovels more of the bland breakfast into his mouth. 

Logan bites his inner cheek. "I should." 

"You have so little for someone who has a bedside-drawer full of cash." 

Hands rubbing against each other, Logan looks a little uncomfortable. "I feel weird spending that money. I know it's mine, and I know I've technically worked for it, but being given so much of it at once feels weird. I feel strange even giving that money up for rent." 

Janus stares at him, before looking a little wistful. "I used to feel that way." He sets the box to the side after wrapping up the plastic bag inside, either content with the amount he's eaten or too distracted to think about eating any more.

Logan moves closer to him, raising an eyebrow. "What helped you get over it?"

"My materialistic tendencies," Jannus jokes, but upon receiving an unamused look from Logan, Janus sighs, and answers honestly. "Necessity. I was dying when I met Roman. I lived in a dinky little apartment just like this, with a window that wouldn't shut all the way and mold growing behind the fridge that didn't work. I'd go days without eating, and inhaling the tainted air was making me sick." 

Janus shifts his position, looking weirdly vulnerable. "This position was recommended to me by an old friend. Someone who used to work with Roman previously. They said they found a different job - an internship that would lead them somewhere they wanted to go - and that they knew I needed money." Janus touches the side of his face, rubbing his fingers over his discoloured skin. "I thought Roman wouldn't want me. Surely, men that rich would be picky, right?" 

"Thin and with vitiligo. Disheveled. A mess." Janus scoffs. "If Roman were smarter, I'm sure he would have seen me as someone easy to take advantage of, and I was fully prepared for that. To enforce boundaries, and to brace myself for the rejection that would come with my unwillingness to do horrific sexual acts." 

"And yet..." Janus trails off, staring at the cereal box, before turning back to Logan, who's staring at him with wide eyes. It makes Janus's eyes widen himself as he realizes he's veered off topic, and he laughs awkwardly as he shakes his head. 

"Sorry, it seems I got a bit off topic." Janus waves his hand back and forth, before settling back into his original thought. "The short answer as to how I got over it was the fact I was hungry, and I couldn't eat the money that was laying around, doing nothing. And when you spend a lot on food, you get more comfortable spending a lot in general." Janus flashes his own sparkly phone at Logan to get his point across, smiling proudly. "Plus, Roman would encourage me to spoil myself a little bit, and would crack open his wallet to allow me to do so. And it'd be rude to say no to an offer like that." 

It's meant to be interpreted as a joke, but Logan can tell that it stands as a true statement. 

"Maybe ask Remus to take you shopping some time," Janus suggests, as he grabs the box of cereal and tucks it back into the cabinet behind him. "Or ask Roman," Janus winks, "if you want to double your haul." 

"If you're going to advertise Roman so openly, you should at least be getting paid," Logan jokes, making Janus snort at the irony. He hops off Logan's counter, pulling on the latter's collar as he struts by him, making Logan choke and then huff as he stomps after Janus, playfully embarrassed. 

"It's cute you sleep in that," Janus teases, as they make their way out of the apartment. "Does Remus know?" 

Logan's surprisingly loose around Janus. Of course, they can bond over their... profession, but they have a lot more than that in common, too. 

Like apparently their backgrounds. Knowing now that Janus was living in poverty before finding Roman makes Logan feel a lot less embarrassed about his empty fridge, or a leash being hooked to his collar for a couple stacks of cash. 

"I'm sure he assumes," Logan replies, humming. "I typically have it on whenever he comes over, or when I go over there."

As they make their way outside, Logan's suddenly a lot more rigid and red as he thinks about his collar and leash, now fully focused on them thanks to Janus's little playful motion. Every weekend he'd gone over, Remus had been eager to choke his slender neck with the thick leash. He also fawned over the collar and it's entirety, constantly babbling about how cute Logan looks in it. Like a puppy! 

Or a kitten. 

It makes Logan tremble in anticipation as he imagines what they'll be doing today. Surely using the leash, right? 

Janus, being the gentleman he is, opens the passenger door for Logan, uttering "you should really have Remus get you a car, too," before he hops into the driver's side. Logan rolls his eyes as he gets in, fiddling with the accessory around his neck. 

"I assume you have plans with Roman," Logan begins, awkwardly, as he buckles in. Janus starts the car. "What are they?" 

Janus checks his blind spot, before backing the car up. "He wants to take me out to dinner. It's his favourite non-sensual activity. Usually." 

"Usually?" 

Janus looks over at Logan and grins. "Well, yeah. Usually, it's an innocent, pleasant evening, with nice food and red wine. But other times, Roman's calloused hand drags a little further up my thigh than what'd be deemed proper in an establishment like that, and he gives me the gentlest smile while playing rough with my body." He tells Logan all about his romantic evenings with Roman with dramatic intonation, as though he's reciting a simple story. 

And Logan's reactions are more than amusing, going red, looking away, fidgeting, until finally, as Janus begins to describe what goes on when they get back to the car, Logan finally tells Janus to stop talking, voice cracking with second-hand embarrassment brought on by his friend's casualty, and the mental image of Roman naked. 

After that, the ride is mostly quiet. 

Not in an uncomfortable way; it's more so just Logan being flustered into silence due to still being a bit unused to conversations like this. Even though he's been seeing Remus for a couple months now, it doesn't mean he's gotten more comfortable discussing such blatantly sexual things aloud. Especially with his newfound friend. 

Though, now that he and Janus casually hangout, they do bring up their respective daddies quite often. 

It was a previously embarrassing topic, but Janus was forward about Roman and what he's like, so Logan attempted to meet his level of openness in regards to Remus, and soon, most conversations about the twins were surprisingly lighthearted. 

Besides, sitting in the quiet was something both of them quite like. Neither of them find it tense or anything; just comfortable. 

It's a short drive, and once they pull up to the mansion, the gates open for Janus's car, and he heads up the driveway. A servant opens Janus's door for him, and another opens Logan, and both of them politely thank the persons before heading inside. 

And almost immediately, that comforting silence is disrupted. 

As soon as the door is opened, both of them are overwhelmed by a very loud, dramatic cry of Logan's name, before there's a blur rushing towards him, and Logan's being swept up by Remus. Remus is squeezing Logan hard enough for Janus to mutter a comment about Logan looking like one of those eye-popping keychains, which makes Remus laugh as he kisses the side of Logan's face. 

Finally, after an utterance of "Remus... can't.... breathe-" from Logan's mouth, he's dropped back to the floor, Remus smiling wide. 

Logan bends over to catch his breath, panting hard, while Janus snorts. 

"You almost killed him," he jokes, looking between Logan's struggling frame and Remus's happy vibrations, as he rocks on his feet excitedly.

"I can't help it!" Remus responds, before reaching forward to grab Logan's face, squishing his cheeks. "He's just so cute!" He kisses the bridge of Logan's nose, before actually addressing Logan now, stating "I've missed you so much." 

Logan smiles, but is quick to point out "you literally saw me last weekend. You've seen me every weekend." Not to mention the fact that they text at least once a day, usually due to Remus suddenly asking a random, insignificant question out of nowhere, and a conversation spiraling regarding Logan's answer. 

Remus just rolls his eyes at Logan's logic though, and moves his hands from Logan's face to his hips, pushing Logan back against the door they just walked through. His lips are quick to press against Logan's, kissing him intensely and effortlessly sliding his tongue past Logan's lips as though doing so is a daily routine. 

Sloppily, Remus sucks on Logan's tongue, dramatically moaning, before pulling away briefly to pant like an excited puppy. 

Logan is extremely red, but it makes his chest feel warm that Remus obsesses over him this much. It's nice enough to almost let himself melt into it and let Remus do whatever he wants with him right then and there, until Roman clears his throat, causing Logan to push Remus away and hide his face in embarrassment. 

Backing up to give Logan some space, Remus grins over at Roman - who's approached the group in a very flashy suit and tie - and Janus, who looks incredibly amused. 

"Ahem," Roman clears his throat, looking between Logan and Remus, as Logan very slowly peels his hands away from his eyes. "Excuse me. The two of you might want to just suck face all day, and honestly that's fine with me, but preferably do it somewhere that doesn't block the door." Roman waves at Remus to shoo him back, as he leans over to Janus and whispers something in his ear, making Janus nod and head off away from the group. 

"My precious baby boy and I have dinner plans." Roman watches Janus leave with a smile, before crossing his arms over his chest, regarding the other two with arrogant playfulness.

"Dinner? It's still early," Logan states, as he watches Roman and Remus stare at each other. "When Janus said you guys were going to dinner, I assumed it'd be later." 

"The perfect time to go out to dinner is about four," Roman responds, dismissively. "And the place we're going to is about an hour away." 

"What is it?" 

Roman raises an eyebrow. "Hibachi. Since they'll be cooking in front of us, we'll be there a while, steadily eating foods as they're made. And I had plans to take him out to dessert, too, after we're done."  

Remus hums, hands patting against his sides, before he suddenly smiles. "I've got an idea! Why don't Logan and I join you and Janus for dinner tonight!" Remus slings his arm over Roman's shoulder, pulling him close and rocking him slightly. "My kitten needs something in that cute little tummy of his, anyway." 

Seeing them shoulder to shoulder, Logan can't help but notice they look remarkably different. They have the same face shape, the same nose, the same lips. But Remus's hair is a darker shade of brown, and his facial hair makes his face look differently structured. And they have completely different body types. 

They're both tall, sure, but Roman's muscular. He's soft and chubby when relaxed, and rather toned when he's flexing. He's also well groomed, and the hair on his arms (and Logan can assume the rest of his body hair) is a lighter brown, blending in surprisingly well with his tanner skin. 

While Remus's darker hair stands out against his paler skin. Having also seen Remus naked, Logan knows he's rather hairy in general. 

Honestly, if he wasn't told they were twins, he probably wouldn't have guessed they were related. 

"Wow," Roman huffs, setting an offended hand on his chest. "Inviting yourself along on our date? Stop being such a third wheel." Roman pushes Remus off of him, sending him stumbling. But Remus laughs, having gotten his answer from that response. He knows his brother well enough to know that if Roman genuinely didn't want him to come, he would have gotten a blunt no. "What's next, you're going to invite yourself in on our sex too?" 

"It's not like I haven't before," Remus replies, with a wink towards behind Roman, where Janus's slender frame reappears, now dressed in a suit similar to Janus's, sans tie. He looks a bit stiff, but pulls it off well. 

Roman's cheeks go pink, but he scrunches his face up at Remus's words, before turning to Janus. 

"They want to third wheel," Roman whines, wrapping his arms around Janus's waist and pulling Janus's back against his chest. 

"Logan would come too," Remus replies, rolling his eyes, "so technically it'd be more like a double date." He wraps his arm around Logan's waist, squeezing him and pulling him away from the door. He leans over, as though he's going to kiss Logan's cheek, but licks it instead, making Logan gasp before wiping at his cheek, pushing away from Remus with a lighthearted "Remus, seriously?" 

Roman ignores them, lips hovering above Janus's ear. "It's up to you," he says softly, and Janus has to repress a shiver. 

"I'm okay with it," he says, shrugging, and pulling away from Roman. Roman's arms hesitantly fall, but he keeps a hand lingering on the small of Janus's back. "Just hurry up. I hate long drives; I'd rather we get going as soon as possible."

"You heard him," Roman says, nodding towards Logan and Remus. "Be quick. Ten minutes, and we're leaving." 

"Understood!" Remus is quick to sweep Logan off of his feet, carrying him bridal-style as he runs past the other two, bounding up the stairs, resulting in Logan's arms tightly wrapping around Remus's neck, squeezing worriedly. Remus is so fast that Logan's scared he'll be thrown across the hallway if Remus were to trip, but luckily, that theory's never tested. 

They reach Remus's room quickly, and the doors kicked shut behind them as Logan's tossed onto the soft bed. 

"Was that really necessary?" Logan asks, as he pushes himself to sit up, watching as Remus fusses through the crumpled clothes in his closet. "I'm sure Roman wasn't being serious." 

"I wouldn't put abandoning us past him," Remus replies, jokingly, as Logan suddenly hears the rustling of a garment bag, followed by Remus pulling it out of the closet with a grin. Inside, is a nicely pressed, navy blue suit, with a matching blue tie. It looks way to small to be Remus's. 

Remus, more slowly this time, moves towards Logan as he holds the suit out, avoiding eye contact. "It's for you," Remus states, as though that wasn't obvious. "I've been hoping to take you out to dinner sometime; this was just the perfect opportunity." 

Logan stammers as he stares at it, the bag being passed into his hands. He has many questions he'd like to ask, but the first one that comes out of his mouth is "how do you know my size?" 

Chuckling, Remus sits next to Logan, kissing his head. "You leave a lot of clothes over here," he responds, playfully. "Mostly because I send you home wearing my stuff." 

That was true. A majority of the clothes Logan has at his house are actually Remus's. Giant hoodies and baggy sweatpants, and some shorts that are tight on Remus and long on Logan. But with all of those, it surely means that their counterparts belonging to Logan are strewn somewhere in Remus's large closet. 

Logan's touched by the action, as his fingers trail over the garment bag. 

Such a gift must have been extremely expensive; it is an extremely nice suit. And it's incredibly generous of Remus to go out of his way to get one that fit Logan perfectly for the sole reason of wanting to take him out on a nice date. 

But... Logan's clothes aren't exactly nice. Despite his thin stature, a lot of his clothes were bought by his parents and moved over when he found an apartment. That means any growth spurts he hit afterwards were unaccounted for, and now a lot of his clothes aren't long enough for his body. Does... does that mean the suit might be a little too tight? He'd hate to waste Remus's money if that's the case. 

"Wow... thank you," Logan breathes, before clearing his throat. He can't even feel the fabric yet, but he already knows that the suit in his hands is a very nice material, but what else could he expect? 

His fingers fiddle with the zipper on the garment bag, before he glances up towards where Remus is standing over him, smiling at Logan's visible admiration. Logan flushes. 

"Could you maybe turn around?" Logan asks, cringing at the way his voice cracks. "So I can get dressed?" 

Immediately, Remus snorts, before full on laughing, grabbing Logan by the chin and gently wiggling his face back and forth. "Pfft- seriously, Logan? I've seen you naked plenty of times, and you've been depriving me lately! I'd love to have a private little strip show." 

His response makes Logan feel a bit stupid for not thinking about that. Usually, Remus strips him; he just didn't process him stripping himself as something equally as intimate. Mostly because he's so used to getting dressed in private. 

Upon no immediate response, Remus gently cups Logan's face. "Of course, you don't have to if you're uncomfortable. I'll actually turn around if you want me to." 

"No- no. It's okay." Logan laughs a little bit, trying to shrug away the weird bout of nervousness seemingly overwhelming his body. "You can't stay completely focused on me though; you still have to get dressed too, remember?" Logan fully pulls the suit out of the bag, standing as he lays it against the bed and gently spreading it out piece by piece. "We only have ten minutes." 

He smiles as he feels Remus's eyes on him, though his face burns as he pulls his shirt over his head, and his pants down his thighs. 

Remus's hands grope Logan's thighs, before trailing up his chest, just feeling. Nothing more, though Logan can tell that Remus is itching to go further. Unfortunately, they have a time limit, and after a few seconds of touching, Remus pulls away. 

It makes Logan pout a bit, missing Remus's warmth the moment it's gone. He admittedly likes the hungry and obsessive way that Remus regards his nude body, and he could only imagine Remus's eyes eating his seminude body up the same way, though his boxers prevented any complete viewings of what Remus outwardly proclaims are his favourite parts of Logan. 

But the touches and the looks do a lot to Logan, and he finds himself having to actively repress his arousal. He'll suffer is he has to sit in the back of a limo repressing a hard on next to his best friend. 

He takes his time pulling the suit on, focusing on trying to make himself look as nice as possible in order to distract himself from the longing he experiences when he hears Remus retreat into his closet. 

He's never actually worn a suit before - not one of this caliber, at least, and so struggles a little bit pulling it on. But he eventually works it out, and looping the tie is the easiest part. 

As he tightens the tie, Remus slips from his mind, and instead he's thinking about the soft inner lining of the button up and the looseness of the suit jacket. Anything too tight or itchy would have made him uncomfortable, but he feels silly for assuming Remus wouldn't get him something extremely comfortable.  

And, more so, everything fits perfectly. Not too tight, and not too small. 

He looks around, and catches a view of himself in a full length mirror. Feeling a bit conceited, Logan approaches it, observing how strange he looks. Sure, he dresses nice, but he's sure he's never looked this nice. He looks respectable. Like an authority figure. 

If his hair was less disheveled and he was a bit taller, he was sure he could lead a company one day. 

Dressing like this feels right, but thinking about it feels wrong. Because this isn't actually is. He didn't do anything deserving of it. With his fantasies, he's literally sleeping his way to the top? How dare he have sex fand then believe himself to be anything more than the struggling man that he is-?

Logan suddenly jumps as Remus sneaks up behind him, hands firmly grabbing Logan's waist. He completely missed Remus's frame waltzing into view of the mirror. 

"You look good," Remus purrs, starting to reach his hands up Logan's suit jacket, and pouting when Logan stops him. 

"The others are probably getting impatient," Logan says, tilting his head back to look up at Remus, who looks down at him happily. "The others aren't going to want to wait any longer than they have to. And I wouldn't put it past Janus to have started complaining about the wait by now."

Logan then pulls away, and turns to face Remus rather than just staring at his reflection. He gets ready to insist they're ready to leave now, not wanting to be an inconvenience to the other two, but his words die on his tongue the moment he sees Remus. 

Remus is fully dressed in his own nice suit, though the top button of his button-up is undone, and his tie isn't even tied. Just loosely hanging on either side of his collar. His pants fit tight to his body but flare around the ankles, and the bright green socks Logan can only see a sneak of makes him smile as they're otherwise tucked into slick black dress shoes. 

Part of him doesn't know how Remus got dressed so fast, but Remus must be used to this. Logan can only assume he has a lot more experience dressing nice. 

But... damn, he's never seen Remus look so formal before. He stares, heat traveling to his face, not even realizing how cartoonishly horny he looks just by his facial expressions alone. 

Remus snickers. "What? You're looking at me like you're lusting over something, but I'm showing less skin than I normally do. Does modesty turn you on?" His teasing words fall on deaf ears, as Logan itches to both tie Remus's tie for him, and pull it off his body entirely. His hands run over Remus's chest, stopping just shy of Remus's exposed chest. 

Remus raises an eyebrow. "Don't we have somewhere to be?" he asks, watching the way Logan's eyes go wide and he pulls away, flustered. 

"Yeah. Yeah, we should probably head back downstairs." Logan's embarrassed of the way his voice cracks, but Remus pays it no mind, simply smiling and sliding his arm back around Logan's waist, leading him down to the other two. 

Roman and Janus look to be playfully bickering, but look up when they see Remus and Logan coming into the room. Janus wolf whistles, while Roman playfully rolls his eyes. 

"If you didn't have a cute piece of eye-candy with you, I'd scold you for taking so long," Roman huffs, leaning down to run his knuckle down the length of Logan's face. Logan flushes at the attention, but otherwise glances towards Janus, who seems amused by Roman's affection. "You're lucky Logan's pretty." 

Remus grins wide, shoving his hands into his pockets. "And you're lucky you're not within kicking distance." 

Roman sticks his tongue out in response, backing up from the two of them further before moving back to Janus's side, dramatically declaring "at last, we leave!" with a wave of his hand. It makes Janus chuckle, and even Logan can't help smiling wide. 

The four of them climb into the familiar back of the limo, Roman and Janus on one side, and Remus and Logan sitting across from them. 

The car starts up shortly after the door is shut behind them, and Roman's quick to reach for a small cooler next to the seats. Opening it, he pulls out a few chilled bottles of wine, and some wine glasses. He offers one to Janus, who takes it almost immediately, before offering one to both Remus and Logan. 

Remus glances at Logan, noticing his hesitance. 

"If you're uncomfortable with me drinking, I won't," Remus states, voice surprisingly soft. "Roman, Janus and I enjoy a glass or two casually sometimes. It won't make us drunk, or even the slightest bit tipsy, but I understand you might be more comfortable if you were assured there wasn't even a chance." 

With the other two eyeing him, Logan feels a little hesitant answering, before he waves Roman away, declining his own glass. 

"You can drink," Logan says, folding his hands in his lap. "If you end up drunk though, I'm going home." 

He has no idea how he'll get home, of course, but he's not going to have sex with Remus if Remus is drunk. That wouldn't be okay. 

Remus wiggles his eyebrows in response, snorting right after. "Please. getting drunk isn't worth losing a night of intense fun with my Logan."  

As goofy of a reaction as it is, Remus so casually giving up a night of drinking just for his comfort makes Logan feel a bit flustered. Special, even! 

Though, Logan shouldn't necessarily be surprised; Remus makes him feel special rather often, especially since Logan doesn't have the highest of standards. Like getting him an entire suit for example! That made Logan feel special. 

Despite not quite knowing how much Remus values a little indulging swig of wine every now and again, Logan still appreciates the fact Remus is willing to avoid drinking in order to keep him comfortable even though Logan still expressed comfortability if Remus still were to drink. 

And Remus pauses, giving Logan an extra moment to take back his words and say that he actually would prefer if Remus doesn't, before smiling when Logan nods. He stretches his arm out, and Roman leans forward, pouring wine out into Remus's cup. Roman fills it halfway - the silky red wine splashing against the outer edges of the crystal-clear glass - and Remus raises the glass to his lips. 

He tilts his head back as he takes a long drink. 

It reminds Logan of how smooth of a ride this is. A single bump and the red would stain the pure white of Remus's clothes, and yet he doesn't seem to fear such a thing. Nor does Roman. 

Even though they definitely have enough money to replace the suits, Logan's sure that the idea of turning around, changing, and then driving to the restaurant again would bother them - Roman at least - would be enough to deter them from potentially ruining their pristine and formal looks. And yet, they're confident enough in their ride to drink casually, and talk even more so. 

There's soft, pleasant chatter for a moment, both of the twins focusing on their respective baby, which means it doesn't take long for Remus to get handy. 

He wraps an arm around Logan's waist and kisses the side of his head as though it's a casual action. His lips have been in much more inappropriate places, and yet as they linger against Logan's temple, Logan feels just as breathless as he did when they were between his thighs. 

Rather meekly, Logan glances upwards, and when Remus pulls away to look back at him, he's smiling. 

"Would you like to try some?" Remus asks, a bit teasing with his tone but otherwise genuinely offering. He lowers his glass down to Logan, tilting it slightly and allowing Logan to observe the glossy liquid as it rushes to the sides, splashing slightly and dotting the rim of the glass with beads of bright red.  

"You don't have to, of course," Remus adds, nonchalantly, "but if you're curious, I'd be willing to offer my glass up for a taste. Unless you'd like me to take a drink and then push it into your mouth." He winks at that last bit, making Logan both flush and cringe at the idea.

"No thanks," Logan replies, with a wave of his hand, before hesitating. After a moment, he specifies "to that last part, I mean."

"So you want a drink?"

"Maybe a little." Logan fidgets with his hands in his lap. He's not necessarily dying to know what expensive wine tastes like, but Janus is already being poured a second cup, and Roman's nearly there as well. It does a lot to fuel his curiosity. 

Remus passes his glass to Logan, who stares at the liquid for a few seconds, before actually bringing the glass to his lips and taking a very ginger sip. 

It's completely experimental, and Logan doesn't have much of a reaction at first, before he just shrugs, and hands the glass back. 

"It's nothing special," is Logan's first response, and after being met with a dramatic gasp from Roman, he snorts. "It just tastes like bitter juice. Who would want to drink bitter juice?" 

"A lot of people," comes Janus's response, as he tilts his glass towards Logan. "For a lot of reasons. Not everyone drinks for the taste; some do, of course, but others drink for the buzz it gives them. Boosts of confidence and impulsivity." Janus takes a drink. "Furthermore, it's an acquired taste." 

"I remember my first sip of wine," Roman shudders, as he sticks his tongue out dramatically. "I swore I'd never drink it again! And yet, I eventually circled back around to it due to being forced to attend many 'high-end social events.'" Roman makes dramatic air quotes, rolling his eyes. Janus is paying close attention to what he's saying, while Remus looks more... lost in thought. Regardless, Roman continues. "It loosens people up; makes them less uptight. Business men are a lot nicer to be around when they're drunk on more things than just their social stature. Or when you're too incapacitated to process what they're saying." 

"I never liked those events," Remus comments offhandedly. 

Roman suddenly looks very somber, lips pressed into a thin smile. "Neither did I." 

The rest of the drive to the dinner is mostly silent, with little murmurs here and there. Roman and Janus get into a playfully heated whisper-argument, while Remus finishes his glass of wine and then tucks it into a different compartment to the left of him. His fingers dance lightly over Logan's sides, simply petting his body, fidgeting with him subtly to help pass the time. 

When they eventually pull up to the restaurant, Janus lets out a dramatic "finally!" before huffing at Roman making him wait to eat. 

Roman laughs in response, helping Janus out of the car chivalrously and apologizing through a barrage of kisses. 

Remus waits for the two of them to move away from the limo, before he's hopping out and very mockingly doing a similar thing with Logan, helping him out of the car before dramatically scooping him up and putting on a playfully fancy voice as he echoes Roman's over-the-top apologies. He laughs when Roman gets jokingly offended and pushes his shoulder. 

Despite only doing it to be funny, Remus doesn't bother to set Logan down after picking him up, happily carrying him into the restaurant instead. It has Logan feel a mixture of flustered, and nervous. 

Even from the outside of the restaurant itself, and the cars in the parking lot, Logan can tell that Roman extremely undersold just how high-end this place was. 

What if - because he's being carried in - people give him weird looks? 

Normally, he's not one to care about public appearance, but he doesn't want to be the odd one out in this situation. He's not just at the grocery store or in a lecture hall; he's walking into a restaurant where an entrée might cost him an entire months rent. Furthermore, he's seemingly the only one here who's never dined at a place like this. Glancing at Janus, Logan notices him tugging some of his discolored skin behind his hair, trying to minimize the patches as much as possible, and fixing his posture. 

Logan narrows his eyes, a confused expression on his face, but gets too distracted by the doors to the restaurant opening to remember his train of thought. 

As soon as they're in the lobby, Remus sets him back on his feet, bending slightly and murmuring a quiet "you okay?" into Logan's ear. It's one of the rare moments where Logan detects nothing but sincerity in Remus's voice. It makes him simultaneously shiver and flush. 

"I'm fine," Logan whispers in response, as his hand instinctively searches for and clasps around Remus's. "Just... a bit out of place." 

It's not that he doesn't know how to act formal; he's always been extremely polite and respectful to those who deserved it, and growing up he was told constantly that he was so mature and well-mannered, especially compared to the other kids who always seemed too immature for Logan's liking. But that was in places like schools. This wasn't a school. Here, he couldn't puff his chest out and tilt his chin up and pretend to be something he wasn't. He can't pretend to be worth something. 

"You'll be fine," Remus assures him, a sudden, lighter air to his voice. "I think you fit right in! In your fancy little suit and tie." Remus's voice is teasing as he fixes the folds on Logan's suit, smoothing it out afterwards. "And even if you don't, I dress the way I do for a reason." 

"You like being weird?" 

Remus chuckles. "Close. I like attention." He winks, grinning at Logan's confusion. 

A hostess greets them, telling them they'll be seated momentarily and leaving the four of them with the mouth-watering smell of freshly made shrimp, steak, noodles, and piles upon piles of melted butter. When she leaves, Remus wraps a tight arm around Logan's waist, and waves his arm out to the people seated at tables. 

"Even going out when I was younger, I realized that unless you stand out in a room, then your social status doesn't matter. All of these bald-headed, big-breasted, billionaire philanthropists look the same! Old, white, and in the process of rotting." Remus fidgets with his collar, closing his eyes playfully as he gives a mockingly smug look. "I, on the other hand, am young, dumb, and not well-groomed. I can't even tie a tie for fucks sake!" 

His loud proclamation makes a few heads turn his way. Logan watches the way these elitist patrons look Remus up and down, and then turn to each other to whisper. Narrowed eyes and secretive body postured, followed by more glances his way. 

It makes Logan suddenly feel really... vindictive. 

Before he can scrunch his nose up in disgust, Remus squeezes his sides, as if sensing his sudden distaste. 

"Don't worry; they'll probably never see me again," Remus responds, shrugging. "And that's kind of the point. But maybe, just maybe, they'll think about me. Some hot-shot man with the bright socks and long hair..." Remus drifts off, before laughing again, this time more huskily. "But boy - oh boy! - is it fun to imagine their shock and surprise when they realize I'm the heir to one of the largest fortunes in the country. The world even!" 

"So... you like the irony?" 

Remus shrugs again. "I guess. I just like being perceived as an anomaly. Something you'll randomly remember during a Thanksgiving dinner; a story you'll tell around the campfire. Some how, some way, my presence will persist. And in another way, it'll exist without being tied to money." 

Though Remus is normally eccentric and strange, such beliefs and reasoning actually leaves Logan rather speechless. Remus's answers leave Logan feeling a bit silly, but overall more comfortable. It's not enough to rid him of his anxiety entirely, but it does assure him that it'll be hard to stick out when Remus will be sopping up a lot of the attention. 

The hostess comes back to them, holding an armful of menus as she waves them forward and escorts them to an open grill. They're seated in four seats directly in front of the grill, leaving two other seats on either side of them. Roman sits on one end, Janus next to him, Logan next to Janus, and Remus on the other end. 

Janus glances at the four empty seats remaining at the grill. "I hope these aren't going to be filled," he utters, scrunching his nose up at the idea of sitting in anyone else's company. 

"I don't think anyone will want to sit with us," Roman replies in a half-comforting, half-teasing manner. "Not after Remus's previous display." 

Remus leans back on his chair, the front legs coming up off the floor. "All I did was mention I didn't know how to knot a tie." 

"Very loudly," Roman huffs. 

"Chill out, Princey," Remus snorts, rolling his eyes, and waving his hand dismissively. "I'm sure people won't want to sit with us for reasons other than me. Though, I am pretty good at repelling people." Remus winks towards Janus in order to further assure him no one will sit with them. Logan can't help smiling at the exchange.��

The front legs of Remus's chair suddenly hit the ground hard as he moves instead to hunch over his menu. 

Logan decides to follow suit, but one glance at it and he feels like he's been punched in the gut. 

The cheapest thing on the menu was almost fifty dollars. For just one item! That means, for each of them, it'd be about two hundred dollars, if not more!

A sudden nudge in his side has Logan looking up, wide-eyed. 

"Did you read what it comes with?" Remus asks him, glancing between Logan's surprised face and the menu. 

Logan looks stupidly back at the list, before shaking his head. 

"Remus, it's too much money." 

Remus scoffs. "It's fifty dollars. Read what a normal entrée comes with." 

"But-"

"Logan." Remus's voice is a bit louder, and Logan feels a cold chill run through him. "Please, just look at the menu. Read what a typical entrée comes with."

Logan turns back to the menu, looking over it. Shrimp entrée... comes with soup, salad, noodles, rice, shrimp, more shrimp, vegetables, and ice cream. Logan re-reads it, but the words don't change. 

All of that... for fifty dollars? 

"It's a lot of food," Logan begins, as he fiddles with the menu, "but it just... doesn't feel worth it to me." 

"Maybe the portion sizes will change your mind," Remus replies, smirking towards Logan, before turning back to his own menu. Logan stares at him for a few minutes, before he sets his menu down against the table, and folds his hands in his lap. He stares straight ahead for a moment, before he slowly leans to the side, and against Remus. And from his position he can't see it, but Remus smiles. 

A waiter comes over after a short while, asking about their drinks, and what dressing they'd like on their salad, of which being ginger or ranch. Then, they leave, preparing to get the group their starters and leave them time to decide on an actual meal. 

There's some murmuring, and everybody showing each other the menu, until eventually, the waiter comes back with their sodas and water, and sets down individual salad and soup bowls in front of each of them. Then, they move on to actually ordering, starting with Roman and Janus. 

Both of them order effortlessly, prepared for each question, not caring about what they order or how much they specify. Questions are answered with little hesitation, and as Roman orders steak and chicken, and Janus orders scallops, Logan rethinks his own order.   

But when the waiter turns to Logan, he's able to mimic what Roman and Janus were doing. He knows what he wants, at least, to some degree, so he just says that. 

He does end up settling on the shrimp entrée, deciding it sounds the most appetizing, though the waiter then lists off a few substitutions or additions. Logan shifts in his seat, doubting his ability to eat the one entrée as is, but orders a couple of the add-ons anyway, feeling encouraged by a firm squeeze to his thigh. And then the waiter moves on.

Once they've all ordered, conversation strikes back up. Janus and the twins are no strangers to this place, from the looks of it, leaving Logan to stare at the large metal grill in front of him.

His hands reach up to fiddle with his tie. At least that was familiar to him.

He'd wore a tie throughout school, always paired with a nice polo, to make himself look a bit presentable. To him, the actions of tying and tightening one were second nature. But as Logan sneaks a glance at Remus, he sees the tie loose around Remus's collar once more, as if it was cursed to never stay tied.

Logan feels his cheeks heat up.

He quickly tears his eyes from Remus's body, and taps his fork against his plate.

Something about Remus looking so nice, and yet so messy was making his gut twist. Logan knows Remus enough by now to see he's completely out of his element in the dressing department, and yet that only adds to Logan's attraction. He looks so awkward and unkempt, even when all dressed up, and Logan wants to sneak off with Remus until his own suit is as equally peeled away and wrinkled.

Snapped out of his thoughts by an arm in front of his face, a bowl of salad and soup are then set in front of Logan.

"Miyabi soup," Remus whispers under his breath, as Logan stares at the brown broth and floating mushrooms. He then gets a bit louder and looks over at Roman, and the other end of the table. He looks between the bowls, before waving over a waiter and motioning to his soup. "I think they forgot my spoon."

"A chirirenge," Logan corrects, as he dips his own chirirenge into the soup. When Remus just stares at him, Logan clears his throat and clarifies "the 'spoons' they handed us for the soup are more commonly called chirirenge. A chirenge is a fallen lotus petal, and the spoons are shaped like them."

"Ah," Remus replies, as he nods his head, before turning back to the waiter. "Can I have a chirirenge? For my miyabi?"

The waiter smiles, nods, and walks off to go grab one.

"Where'd you learn that?" Roman then asks, causing Logan to turn his head. He forgot they were there. And honestly, he forgot where he learned such a fact.

He shrugs, bringing his chirirenge to his mouth and taking a curious sip of the soup. He licks his lips. Surprisingly, it was really good. He didn't experiment a lot with foods growing up; he knew what he liked and he often gravitated towards those things, but this was definitely delicious.

"I think I read it in a book once," Logan then adds, as he takes in some more of his soup.

When the waiter comes back, Remus gets right to eating his own soup, noisily slurping up all the mushrooms, and downing the broth in a matter of seconds. Logan's last to finish it, and while everyone else decides to begin eating their salads, Logan just stares at is. He knows a lot more is coming; he needs to save as much space in his stomach as he can. 

Logan only gets a few bites of his salad in before a chef comes over. He's wearing a tall black hat, and a cheery smile. 

He asks how everyone's doing, and the group give a mixture of responses. He nods, and then reads their orders back to them, making sure everything's correct. And after getting their affirmations, he smiles and seems to start up the grill. 

He starts first with oil, which he squirts out of a bottle, and then uses a lighter to set the grill aflame. Giant flames soar towards the ceiling, and warmth immediately assaults Logan's face. He has to close his eyes and turn his head away from the shock, but when the heat calms down, Logan sees the flames have simmered down and the grill is now sizzling with more oil being poured onto it. Following this, the chef cuts off a large slab of butter from an even larger pile of it, and drops it onto the grill, smoothing it over until it melts and lubricates the hot surface. 

Logan then watches as the chef pours over a bowl of veggies, chopping up zucchini and onions, and mixing them in with broccoli. They're stirred, sauced, and then left to cook for a few minutes. 

That is, until, he balances a small piece of zucchini on the end of a large knife. He nods towards Roman with a smile, who grins in return. 

Logan's left watching, confused, as the chef lifts his knife up and tosses the piece of zucchini into the air, with Roman catching it in his mouth. He chews, happily, as the chef then motions to Janus the same way. But Janus simply smiles politely and shakes his head. Then the chef moves towards Logan. 

Logan also shakes his head, dismissing the offer. 

Remus accepts the challenge, though, and catches a piece in his own mouth, which he happily munches on after catching. 

The rest of the onions and broccoli are sliced over once more, before they're tucked under a large metal bowl, probably to steam. 

Then, a bunch of pale noodles are placed onto the grill, and once again drowned in oil and soy sauce. They're flipped and dragged across the grill, mixing them all in with the different sauces and flavors, before those are left to cook as well. 

Roman and Janus talk, but Logan's too busy focusing on the food. There are so many noodles, and Logan has no idea how they're going to be split between the four of them. Surely, four portions would still fill each of their plates completely! Logan can't help looking between the cooking noodles and his large plate. 

The noodles are the first thing portioned. They're scooped up, and set on everybody's plate individually, with ginger and something called yum-yum sauce being poured into little saucers and handed out afterwards. 

Logan watches as Remus immediately pours the yum-yum sauce onto his noodles and mixes them in, while Janus dips his fork into the sauce and then uses it to twirl up some noodles, blowing on them briefly, before eating them happily. Roman's the only one who doesn't immediately douse his noodles in the dipping sauce, but Logan's sure he's saving it for something else. 

Carefully, Logan wraps some noodles around his fork, before eating them normally first, just to taste them. And as soon as they hit his tongue, Logan lets out an innocent moan, eyes fluttering shut at the delicious taste. They're flavorful and just a bit salty, and the texture is heavenly between Logan's teeth. And when he tries it with the yum-yum sauce? It's amazing.

Remus nudges Logan as Logan shovels another bite into his mouth. 

"It's great, right?" he asks, with some of the creamy orange sauce dripping down his chin. "I know it's a lot, but there's still more to come. If you want to try a little bit of everything, I suggest you slow down." 

The veggies are moved back to the center of the grill, and mixed around with a little more butter, before a hefty amount is scooped up and once again dumped onto each plate. Logan has to hurry to push his noodles to the side of the plate to make room for the vegetables, which once again cover that entire area. 

This time, as Logan stabs a piece of broccoli onto his fork, he has no hesitation dipping it into the yum-yum sauce. 

The broccoli falls apart in his mouth, soft and buttery, with the sauce only amplifying the overall flavors. It's so good. 

Remus looks less delighted at the delivery of vegetables, stabbing at them with his fork half-heartedly. He picks out the zucchini and only eats that, shoving everything else away from his noodles, which he goes back to eating as soon as the zucchini is gone. He then scoops the rest of his vegetables onto Logan's plate, creating a small mountain of veggies. 

While they've been eating their veggies and noodles, the chef has placed pieces of meat on the grill. Steak and chicken were set aside to cook, while the scallops and shrimp were focused on. Butter is slathered over everything, and they're cooked until the smell of the meat is wafting over all of them, making them all drool over their much waited main course. 

Roman and Remus's plates are completely empty by the time their meats are served up. Janus has eaten most of his noodles, and Logan looks like he hasn't touched his at all. He's just been eating slow - really savoring the taste of expensive food, but he might have been eating a little too slow. 

Shrimp is dumped onto his plate after a moment, and Logan stares at it. 

Then, white rice is turned over onto the grill, as well as some eggs and chicken. The eggs are chopped and cooked before being mixed in, soy sauce is added, and the chicken is cooked and then stirred into the now-brown rice as well. 

The rice is scooped into bowls, and set in front of each of them. 

More food. On top of everything else he was already given. Plus, they still have dessert on the way. 

Logan's half tempted to groan as he thinks about everything that's been presented to him. The salad and soup were filling enough, and now he has enough food to last him another week or two if he portions it right!

After everyone's been delivered their food, the chef nods his head and smiles, preparing to walk off with his cart of uncooked foods and butter, but both Remus and Roman stop him. 

Both of them pull out their wallets and hand bills directly to the chef, who tucks it both into his apron, and into his hat comedically, before thanking them repeatedly and walking off, significantly more cheery. And then the twins turn back to their food, going back to eating completely casually. 

Once Logan finishes the bulk of his main course ("bulk" meaning just barely half, leaving him with a surplus amount of veggies, noodles, rice, and a few scarce pieces of shrimp), he takes a moment to lean back against his seat. He lets out a soft, pleasant groan under his breath, as he wraps his arms around his stomach. 

He pushed himself to eat more than he normally would, but his stomach isn't very big due to eating so little so often. He definitely has the most left over on his plate, but he's not complaining. He knows that if he keeps going, his stomach is going to end up aching. Plus, this way, he has some extras for the next few days! 

He's almost tempted to begin portioning his food right here, but he supposes he can do that when he gets home instead. 

It reminds him of when Remus bought him chili, though. 

This isn't that exact situation; they're out eating, as opposed to in the twin's mansion, but it was still Remus ordering him food, and him being hesitant. He was newer to this "sugar daddy" stuff then, but that doesn't mean he feels any less out of place here and now. 

And that brings him to the snacks! And Remus pulling Logan into his lap. 

Remembering such things make him feel flustered yet again, something that isn't new by any means, especially tonight, but causes him to draw his attention to Remus's attire once more. 

For some reason, he's been zoning out and staring at Remus throughout the entire evening. 

He knows Remus is attractive. He's found Remus attractive - and albeit a bit off-putting - upon first meeting him, but there's something about tonight that's made it harder for Logan to focus. And Logan's not blind, so after staring at Remus for a few minutes, he realizes what he's enjoying so much. 

Remus somehow managed to make sloppy formal wear look... incredibly hot. 

It's not a look Logan would assume Remus could normally pull off. Admittedly, he knows he likes looking classy and respectable, but Remus, despite being rich, dresses in baggy, torn, and brightly coloured clothes that clash more often than not. 

And yet, here he is in a nice suit, with his tie loose and undershirt unbuttoned, and Logan can feel himself starting to sweat. 

As Remus talks to Roman and Janus, his hand squeezes Logan's thigh. It's absentmindedly rubbing and squeezing at the muscle, and unintentionally working Logan up as Logan loses his train of thought while staring at Remus's chest. 

Neither of them notice the way Janus's eyes flicker between them, or how he snorts as he turns towards Roman, motioning between the two and whispering, interrupting Remus (who doesn't notice, as he's talking to the air at this point).

Of course, he's fine with Remus and Logan tagging along on his and Roman's date, but he's not going to pass up the opportunity to get some alone time. 

Roman clears his throat in order to get Remus's attention, who blinks and then turns to look at him. "Forgive me for being so rude, brother dearest, but I do believe you have yourself an... admirer," Roman points out, smugly. He gestures towards Logan, who's still so wrapped up in staring that he's oblivious to the conversation happening around him. 

Though, Logan does blink and glance up as Roman's words process in his head, looking up at Remus and stumbling out "huh... who...?" before going bright pink as he realizes Remus is staring down at him with a grin. He glances to the side, and flushes darker when he sees Janus and Roman staring at him too. 

Of course they all caught him staring! He didn't think he'd been staring for that long, but everyone else seems to think he was staring a little too persistently. 

He looks down at the table, hoping to spare himself some of the humiliation, but Remus is sitting next to him, so the odds of that are slim. 

"See something you like?" Remus muses, as he grabs Logan's chin and pulls it upwards, forcing eye contact. Logan stammers at the question, but feels his body lighting up. He's getting excited, and even though this is an inappropriate situation to be feeling so hot in, he can't help it!

"You," Logan stutters, which earns a rather amused laugh from Remus. His hand travels further up Logan's thigh, which makes Logan laugh out of embarrassment and pull away slightly. 

"We're in public," Logan insists, though he's not stopping Remus. 

He watches Remus look up, and then around, before spotting something nearby. He then turns back to Logan and responds with "we won't be for long," before he's grabbing Logan's hand and pulling him away from the table. Sure, they might miss their ice cream, but it was a small price to pay. 

Remus worms them through crowds of servers and guests, and gets them to the bathroom, where he shoves them inside and locks the door behind them. It's small, and intended for just one person, but that's okay. They'll make due. 

Remus grabs a bottle of lube from his pocket, and sets it on the little sink near them, as if alluding to Logan what will occur later. 

Then, in a swift tug, Logan's pants are being pulled down. Logan flushes at Remus's lack of concern or decency, but can't help gasping as Remus begins to shuffle his own pants down as well. He even goes to unbutton his shirt further, but Logan reaches forward to grab one of Remus's wrists, and his tie. 

"Don't-!" Logan begins, before gulping as Remus's actions stall immediately. Logan's face goes dark red, and he looks away as he hesitates, before sucking in a deep breath as he continues with "don't take it off. Please. You look nice. I... I really like it." 

Remus grins, as his hands fall from his clothes and back onto Logan, who's tie he grabs to pull Logan up and closer to his face. "Noted," Remus responds, smiling, before he kisses him, and Logan moans immediately as he reaches to keep Remus close. His tie is tight around his own neck due to Remus's yanking, but Remus's other hand is around his waist, keeping their bodies close. And Remus's thigh gives him the perfect surface to grind on, which he does happily. 

Remus is so confident in taking control with Logan by now that he moves as if it's second nature, making Logan feel even hotter. 

He really should care that they're in the bathroom of an otherwise fancy restaurant. Sure, the risk of getting caught is slim because of the lock on the door, but it's not completely eradicated. But Remus hardly seems to care, kissing Logan with enough assurance and confidence to make Logan lose himself in it. 

For just a moment, Logan let's himself forget where they are, grinding against Remus as he shamelessly moans, before letting out a small whine of disappointment when Remus simultaneously pulls his lips away, and presses his thigh further against Logan's crotch, pinning his hips against the wall and giving him little room to grind.

"Well, would you look at that?" Remus begins, teasingly, as Logan pants while staring at Remus with half-lidded eyes, and an adorably flushed face. "Who knew that just putting on a suit would get you so desperate?" 

A dark red blush spreads rapidly across Logan's pale features, stretching the width of his cheeks and down his neck. 

"With how prominently this is affecting you, one might even think you have a... suit kink?" 

At first, Logan attempts to look away out of humiliation, but he lets out a meek whimper when his chin is just grabbed in response, and he's forced once again to make eye contact. 

"I'm... I'm not sure," Logan answers, honestly. "I think you look very, very good, but... a kink? That's a bit much." He awkwardly pulls on the collar of his top, feeling sweat begin to pool beneath his clothes. "Right?" 

Remus grins, and tilts his head to the side in a curious manner, letting Logan figure this out for himself.

He's never really been out with Remus publicly. At least, not while in a situation where he could have gotten aroused. But as he thinks about it, he knows that this is very unlike him. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be getting worked up so easily! At least, that's what he likes to think. 

But Remus has been looking so ridiculously attractive nearly the entire night - more so than usual. 

Sure, he looks good normally, but there's something about Remus wearing a suit so casually - almost carelessly - excites him in a way he can't explain. 

Logan swallows the spit in his mouth. "Not a kink," he states, though his voice wavers as he adds "a fetish, maybe." 

Remus chuckles at Logan's shy admission, leaning forward to press a mockingly quick kiss to Logan's lips. "Aww! That's so cute! There's no need to be embarrassed, kitten! Plenty of people have suit fetishes. I think." Remus rubs their noses together, adding to Logan's growing humiliation. "Besides, I think it's flattering. After all, there's something about me in the suit that's getting it goin' for ya'. Seeing as you've hardly spared Roman a glance." 

Remus seems a little proud at the fact he's gotten more attention than Roman over something as trivial as a suit. It's a playful hint towards an unserious brotherly rivalry. 

Shamelessly, Remus begins to work his way into Logan's boxers, tugging them down as he continues to talk, his voice echoing against the thick walls of the bathroom. 

"If I knew putting on a suit would be enough to get you drooling, then I would have been wearing one every time you came over!" he exclaims, as Logan's cock is carelessly exposed to the open. The top of his undershirt drags briefly over his hard shaft, but Remus's hand quickly takes its place, stroking slowly. "Though, I suppose it might be better to just save it for special occasions. That way, moments like this are more rare. Something to look forward to. Something of a reward, maybe?" 

Remus is really just workshopping ideas here, but Logan's cute little reactions to each one give him the affirmations or the distaste give him a vague idea on what Logan likes, and what he doesn't. 

But, after a moment, Remus pulls away. 

Panting, Logan blinks open his eyes - which he'd previously shut to spare himself the further embarrassment of Remus's hungry eyes eating his body up in a similar fashion to how Logan was eyeing up the suit earlier - and sees Remus pulling his own boxers down to his ankles. For a moment, Logan tenses at the idea of having to go back to the table for dinner with Remus's come inside of him, or his thighs aching from a rough round, but Remus seems to read his mind as he quickly says "we're not going to fuck."

Smiling dopily, Remus then clarifies "well, if you don't want to, that is. I'm down for anything." He pinches Logan's cheek teasingly. "But, I assumed you'd want something quick and easy, and something that wouldn't be too noticeable." Remus winks, as though he knows of the ache that might persist in Logan's hips and thighs after a rough round. 

Logan then watches as Remus pours his small little bottle of lube over his hand and their cocks, which he presses together by moving closer to Logan, pushing their bodies against each other. 

The lubricant rolls off of the head of Logan's cock and down his shaft, doing the same to Remus's, before it proceeds to spill down further and coat the lengths of their cocks, and then Remus is further smearing the lube in using his hand, stroking them both off together while keeping their shafts pressed tightly together with his fingers. 

Logan moans immediately, slumping forward against Remus's chest, as Remus continues to stroke them both off, only letting little whimpers of his own slip past his lips. He wants to hear Logan's weak moans in their entirety, and he won't let his own moans overtake Logan's. 

He can feel drool pooling against his chest as Logan's open-mouthed moaning happens against his shirt. Deep breaths of Remus in between sharp intakes every time Remus's hand squeezes their cocks. 

It makes him feel even more pathetic knowing Remus is giving this same pleasure to himself. And Logan's handling it so much worse.

Comparably, he's so much more sensitive. He knows Remus has so much more experience, but he's still flustered as he twists his hands into Remus's formal clothes, no doubt wrinkling it as he attempts to keep himself steady while Remus gets them both off. 

Despite Remus's implications that this was going to be something quick, he can't help but move his hand a little slower than he normally would, mostly wanting to just savor the moment. 

"I love that I get to be the one to introduce you to all sorts of new things," Remus comments, as he slowly squeezes both of their cock. Logan whines. "I know for a fact you've never done this with anybody before. This is your first time letting anyone touch you in public, and I get the honor of witnessing it." 

Remus smirks, as he pushes Logan back against the wall, earning a sharp gasp. "I also get to see how pathetically worked up you get all because of a silly suit." 

He's teasing, but Logan flushes a dark red at the reminder that he was being turned on by a literal outfit. He whimpers as his eyes flicker down from Remus's own red face to his chest, not even realizing he's back to admiring the way the suit fits Remus's lithe stature. 

"It'd be fun if I actually did fuck you here, wouldn't it?" Remus then begins, thinking aloud. "I could hoist you up against the wall and stretch you open slowly. And then, I could absolutely pound that nice, tight ass of yours." Remus roughly grinds their cocks together as he speaks, drawing a sudden, cry from Logan as he attempts to twist away from the surprising pain. Unfortunately, he can't, and so he's left tearing up as his fingers drag against the wall behind him, desperate to grab onto anything in order to give himself the littlest bit of balance. 

How is it that every time he's with Remus, he learns something new about himself?

His stomach is twisting with pleasure at the fact he's being dirty-talked in such a public space. Anybody could come knock on the door or overhear them, which inspires him to bite his tongue, but Remus seems to tell and so slows his hand again. 

"Hey, hey now, no hiding those gorgeous little moans of yours," Remus scolds, shaking his head slightly. "That ruins half the fun!" 

Logan turns his head to the side, nervous, as his glasses slide down his nose. His thighs are shaking while he stands. But begrudgingly, he opens his mouth, and an immediate moan slips through. 

Remus smiles immediately. "Good kitten." 

His hand speeds up once more, but with less firm squeezing this time, reminding Logan that he's getting close. Furthermore, Logan realizes he's going to have to go back to the table after this. Somehow, he's going to have to act normal, as though he wasn't just being jerked off in a public restroom. 

All those people sitting, innocently enjoying their meals, unaware of the explicit situation taking place a few feet away from them! 

And he's sure he doesn't look as composed anymore. With his pants down, and his face flushed, he's sure that anybody who has sex will be able to tell what just happened. Additionally, Janus and Roman have probably done something similar before, so they're going to recognize it immediately, if they don't already know what he and Remus are doing. 

But then Remus is leaning down to kiss him, and Logan finds he can't really think enough to care about their potential judgement or amusement. He leans up eagerly into the kiss, but breaks it almost immediately to let out a shaky moan. 

"Close," Logan whines, but instead of being met with any sort of affirmation or soft words, Remus laughs instead. 

"Already? Fuck, we really have to get your stamina up." His hand still moves fast around Logan's cock, with no intention of slowing or stopping, but Remus still mocks him. "You might want to try and hold out as long as you can, kitten. I can go way longer than you can, after all, and you really wouldn't want me to keep going after you're already finished. I'd have to overstimulate your little cock until there was nothing left coming out of it!" Remus laughs at the idea, while Logan moans again, having to bite his lip in an attempt to regain control of his body. 

All he wants to do is come. He wants to make a mess of him and Remus, spill over his hand and Remus's cock and watch Remus orgasm all the same. He'll get a nice, clear view of Remus's face, and he wants to see Remus ruin himself the same way he constantly ruins Logan. 

Logan's hands grip Remus's upper arms, clinging onto him desperately. 

"I- I don't know if I can hold back," Logan whines, as heat floods his entire body. "I need to come so bad. So bad, please." 

"No. You can wait." 

Logan lets out a pathetic cry of desperation, but continues holding himself back for Remus's benefit. His hands curl into fists, knuckles white as he feels himself on the edge of letting go. He doesn't know what'll happen if he does, but he feels a weird sense of obedience towards Remus. He wants to be good. He needs to be good. 

"Please, please, please," Logan begs, as he hears Remus grunt under his breath as he lowers his head. 

Remus's shaggy brown hair falls in front of his face, obscuring it. This immediately results in Logan moving his hands to Remus's cheeks, cupping his face and tilting it upwards so they're making eye contact. 

"Let me see you. Please," Logan whimpers. He holds Remus's face firmly. "Please." 

And Remus comes. It's so fast that Logan almost misses it, but Remus's eyes squeeze shut as he shoots his load over Logan's cock and his own hand, brows furrowed as he groans deep and reverberating as he works himself through his orgasm, before he slows just the smallest amount. 

Panting, Remus's eyes flicker from the mess he made to Logan's flushed face, more so his dark flush and wide eyes. 

"Aren't I pretty?" is Remus's quiet, mocking response, before he roughly strokes Logan to completion, only uttering a soft "come for me, Logan. Make an even bigger mess like the slut you are," and supporting Logan with a steady hand on his hip. Logan lasts only a few seconds before coming, and moaning pathetically as he does so. 

His seed mixes with Remus's in a lewd, squelching manner, as Remus continues to stroke his cock briefly, before pulling his hand away. Disgustingly, he then brings it to his mouth to lick and suck, which makes Logan both flush and grimace. 

But then, Remus gets onto his knees, and licks up the come on Logan's cock as well, cleaning his shaft, his thighs, and even the few splatters onto Logan's lower shirt and pelvis. 

"Remus," Logan begins, voice breathy, but Remus just snickers. 

"Take notes. One day I'll have you on your knees like this." Remus kisses Logan's thighs, before he stands back up and grabs a few napkins, wiping the ground with his foot and then cleaning his own body up. "I'd love to see you dragging your tongue across the floor." Remus then glances around. "Preferably not a bathroom floor, though." 

Logan can't help but muster a quiet laugh, before he's holding onto Remus as Remus tugs his pants up, making sure Logan looks nice and formal again. He takes less care of himself, furthering his disheveled-formal look, but Logan likes it. He doesn't even bother to fix Remus's tie, instead just letting it hang loosely around Remus's neck. 

Once Remus finishes making sure Logan looks presentable, he rubs Logan's hips, taking a moment to enjoy the visual of him laying on his back against the wall for a minute, still breathing hard and unstable on his legs from the rush of his orgasm. 

And as much as Remus is tempted to make Logan walk through the restaurant like this, he's gracious enough to give Logan at least a moment to fully catch his breath and hopefully let the jelly-leg syndrome die down a bit. 

"You know, you're lucky you only got come on the part of your shirt that gets tucked in," Remus comments, as he playfully loops his fingers into one of the belt loops on Logan's pants. "Though, it would have been fun to see if anyone noticed a few simple stains." Remus does a little shoulder shimmy while wiggling his eyebrows, clearly teasingly delighted by the idea of publicly embarrassing Logan, though he just chuckles when Logan develops enough confidence to push against Remus's shoulder in a lightly scolding manner. 

But, the reminder of the mess they just made does make him flush, so while his arms wrap around Remus's neck to pull him close, his head dips a bit. 

"About that... I didn't mean to ruin something so expensive." He sounds ashamed of himself, and to some degree, he is! Remus just gave him an expensive gift, and he's already ruined it. 

He isn't given nice things very often, and the first time he's ever been given a nice, high-quality suit, he just had to stain it with literal semen. 

Remus pouts a little at Logan's immediate impulse to blame himself, so before Logan gets the opportunity to apologize or offer to pay for the suit in its entirety (which Remus knows for a fact Logan can't afford), Remus leans forward to kiss him. It's nowhere near as rough as moments earlier, but it's effective in silencing Logan's meek words. 

He keeps their lips pressed together until Logan's too flustered to speak when they pull away. 

"Hey now, there's no use in apologizing for that," Remus rather genuinely scolds Logan. "Firstly, I was the one who decided to get you off without stripping you down. I should have at least tugged it up and out of the way." Remus smooths Logan's shirt out, as if checking for other stains. "Secondly, you know I don't care about price when it comes to you. I bought you this suit because I wanted to. If you wanted to go light it on fire after this, that'd be fine!"

He says it so casually, but Logan just bites his lip and looks away, somewhat upset. He hears Remus sigh, as his arms wrap fully around Logan's waist. 

"Besides," Remus continues, softer this time, "you didn't ruin it. Haven't you met me? Our staff has had to try and get many weird stains out of my clothes; come is just another Tuesday for them, really."

That causes Logan to snicker, bringing his knuckles to his mouth to stifle the sound. Remus seems to relax upon seeing Logan ease up a little. 

"Now, come on," Remus beckons, backing up and pulling Logan away from the wall. "If we're lucky, our ice cream might still be on the table."

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Chapter 32: Interlude, Remus

[AO3 Link]

In the moment his magic was severed from his body, Remus truly believed he would die. 

It felt as if something vast and powerful reached into him and tore him open: mind, body, and soul. The very fabric of his being was pulled taught until, thread by thread, his magic slipped from his grasp and left his soul frayed and raw. 

His body felt empty. 

His mind, however, was struck by an influx of magic, ancient and wild. There were things he knew, suddenly, that he shouldn’t. 

He knew Dee’s name, his true name. Janus. He saw his life, a child loved and treasured within the boundaries of Rimefell. Hated and scorned by the rest of the world, for the bronze scales that marred his face. He saw Vee- Virgil - born to a dying mother and a father not far behind, and knew grief that he was too young to understand. Janus’ fierce love for his brother… that, Remus already knew in himself. 

He knew Roman’s desperation, the night he left Sanctum alone. He knew his grief, and his rage. He watched their parents die. Roman should have died, too. Wrath tore him to pieces, scattered his magic. Left behind only a tiny, frail spark of life behind. 

Remus lifted that spark with trembling hands. He blew gently, carefully coaxing the spark back into the vibrant flame that was his brother. And he gave it back. 

[continue on AO3] | [read from beginning]

[virgil-my-emo-son]

Me when fanfiction. Forgot how much I love my siren AU lol. Remus is a siren who's not allowed to sing, and Logan is awkward when he flirts. Virgil is falling in love with a different siren he illegally broke out of a lab, who happens to have a twin brother somewhere in the city. Patton is Virgil's roommate and Janus is the head of a criminal underworld and also has a giant snake tail. They're also childhood best friends (sooooo super slow burn moceit). There's an evil government. There's roller skating!!

[lolia21]

Well I feel down a Sanders Sides rabbit hole and now I have one fan fic idea that keeps playing in my head:

Remus and Roman are twins but they don't attend the same school because Remus was... himself and his parents were kindly asked to transfer him to a school that "fits his personality better". So he goes to a school a whole district over. He gets along with Roman and he loves him but they are very different people so they don't hang out a lot. Remus also can't stand the blatant favoritism they're parent give Roman. He thinks it's sweet that Roman tries to tap it down but it doesn't change anything.

Sp Remus spends most of his free time at his friend Janus house with his other friend Virgil. Janus also shouldn't be attending their school cause he's loaded but he hated the prep school he was sent to and transferred behind his parents back. Money can get you literally anything. Expect real friends which is why Janus loves Remus and Virg so much. Virgil is actually living at a near by boys home. As a kid his home situation wasn't great and he doesn't talk about it a lot. He ended up at Sanders House four years ago though and it's not too bad.

So anyway Roman has never meet Remus' friends and Remus has never met Roman's friend Patton and Logan. Whenever they come over is always at Janus' house. He knows they exist just like Roman knows Virgil and Janus do but they've not met in person over the last two years.

So it all starts pm a long weekend because Halloween is Friday. ( fun fact my school in gerogia gave us Halloween and Valentines off and used it as teacher workshop days.)

So of course the dark side trio is hype, roaming the mall, scaring people, judging costumes, and trying to find accessories to improve their own.

The light side trio is also their because Patton waited too late to get a "decent" (Roman's words) costume, and Logan was hoping to avoid getting one at all.

The crowds get so bad that everyone is separated. Luckily both sides actually have designated met spots, tho for very different reasons. The darks sides met spot is the horror section at Barnes and Nobles. It's large enough that Virgil won't feel claustrophobic and he can read some Poe while he waits and not have people constantly asking if he needs assistance. It was a place chosen, so he doesn't have a panic attack while he waits for his friends since he's the only one without a phone.

On the other had the light side trio chose the lgbtq+ teen romance section as their meet spot. Mainly Because it'll distract Roman enough that he won't get bored of waiting and wonder out to find his friends before they get there. Defeating the purpose of the spot all together.

You can see where this is going.

Patton has been trying to get on the elevator for the last five minuets but everyone time he tries to get on the same time as someone else he let's them all go first and theres no room for him. This goes on until a nice but kinda rude stranger just days "oh my gawd" and pulls him in as he in goes in. The stranger honestly looks way to well dressed to be here and doesn't even introduce himself. He just starts playing on his phone and Patton doesn't know whether saying thank you would be annoying or not. Janus on the other hand is texting Remus about how just met someone who reminds him a little of freshman Virgil and how he hopes he's not freaking out.

Logan has decided to take the stairwell because he knows that people arr less likely to use it over the escalators or elevators. He looks a floor above him and someone who kinda sorta looks like Roman sliding down the railing on his ass and laughing the whole time. He barely has time to dodge as someone yells " dodge nerd" and flies past him. Honestly Logans so surprised by whatever the hell that was that it take him two whole ass minutes to start walking again. Remus is just having a blast. He didn't think this would work and he saw a pretty cute nerd on the way down.

Roman is having a complicated time. He lgbtq teen romance section is usually in the front if the store but it's been switched with the horror section for the month. So here is is not being able to decide whether he should just stay here because the ia the physical spot he normals what's at or go the the actual section with all the books about the boys kissing that he likes to read. Virgil on the other hand is on the virge (ha) of kinda freaking out. He's happy that the sectionnis getting more love, even if it's only for money. But he liked that it was in the back and away from the crowds of people coming in and out. Not to mention theirs someone dude dresses like a prince yelling on the phone to someone named Patton about whether he should "go to the section of love and acceptance or stay in emo hell". Virgil is insulted enough by this to tell him Roman to please stop yelling and go to whatever section isn't here. Roman rolls his eyes calls him knock off Gerard way and ignores him. Virgil completely forgets how nervous he was becuase now his piss3d and they get into an arguments.

It ends when Patton walks in and calls for Roman at the same time that Janus calls in and calls for Virgil. They look to their friend seemingly coming in together and are about to complain to their respective friends when Janus, Virgil and Roman here a familiar voice go

"Brobro what are you doing here. Hey Jan, hey virge," and Remus walks in completely unaware of the fighting that was just happening. Virgil tries to actually get a good like at this guy's face and realizes that without the make up and general zanny disposition he does look a lot like Remus. Before anyone can respond tk that, an another person asks

"OH God Roman what did you do? Who are they?" And of course it's Logan.

So now are dark sides are standing on one side and all the lights on the other. As the two siblings and their two different friend groups collide. Teen hurt, comfort and angst ensues.

[chameleon66]

Laugh for Me!

Ships: Intrulogical (Logan x Remus)

Word count: 2785

Warnings: Censored swearing, Remus being Remus, mild angst, tickling, pranks, teasing (Let me know if I need to add anyhting)

Remus was unhinged in every way possible, good and bad. Part of the reasoning behind it was just who he was. I mean he is the personification of every morbid, sexual or intrusive thought that danced its way through Thomas’s head so no one could really blame him for being himself. But another part of it was because he enjoyed others' reactions to it, every reaction he got.

When Patton would scream in terror or when Virgil would hiss at him, it all filled him with glee. He loved observing the other sides reactions to his antics and figuring out what freaked them out and what didn’t freak them out.

But one reaction he did love getting from others was laughter, other’s laughing just made his heart figuratively explode in his chest. So after stewing on the fact that he enjoyed making other people laugh for a fraction of a second he created a new experiment and so began “Operation make every side laugh and figure out what makes them laugh so he can exploit it whenever necessary and also think of a shorter name for this operation.”

Surprisingly Virgil was the easiest one to figure out with minimal research, he laughed whenever Patton made a pun and Remus couldn’t tell at first if it was because it annoyed Logan when Patton made puns or if he actually liked them, so he would have to gather more data.

Luckily after some spying, he found that even when Logan wasn’t in the room when Patton made puns, the jokes always made Virgil laugh, quite honestly he was expecting something very different from ‘Charlie Frown’. But he wrote it down in his notes nonetheless as Virgil’s Hysterical Hacker (That's the name he came up with).

Patton was also elementary to figure out, as the happiest side he would laugh at a lot of things. At first Remus thought that Patton’s Hysterical Hacker would also be puns but it occurred to him Patton didn’t really laugh at puns, even if they weren’t made by himself but then Remus made a discovery.

One day as he went to the kitchen to fetch one of his Cock shaped popsicles from the fridge he found Patton sitting in the kitchen on the computer laughing like a hyena of helium, Remus almost had to be concerned if he was breathing or not.

When he asked Patton what was so funny he was shown a twenty minute compilation video of cat videos on youtube. Some cat’s fell into boxes and others played with balls of yarn but regardless it all made Patton squeal so Remus wrote ‘Cat videos’ down as Patton’s Hysterical Hacker.

Roman took a bit of investigating but as it turned out the answer was right in front of Remus' face, it was rooted in his dear twin brother’s love of Disney. One family love night it was Roman’s turn to choose the movie and he went with a Winnie the Pooh movie much to Remus’s, Janus’s and Logan’s displeasure.

Watching the movie was like folding socks level boring but then something caught Remus interest, after the gang tried to catch a ‘Backson’ all of them fell down a hole except for Piglet who then was challenged to find something to get them out of the hole with.

Piglet’s attempts were all stupid and fueled by miscommunication between Piglet and Rabbit. The scene wasn’t what caught Remus’s interest though it was Prince's not so charming reaction that got him listening.

Roman was rolling with laughter throughout the scene which led Remus’s to the ever so boring conclusion that Roman’s hysterical hacker was, family humor. Something that could be found in every Disney movie ever to exist.

Remus still wrote it down though and moved to the next side.

Janus was a challenge, despite having lived with him in the darkisde of the mindscape for most of his life, Janus never really went into hysterics, sure he’d chuckle but that was all Remus usually saw out of him.

But Remus did get an idea, Janus always seemed to be amused at other’s pain or displeasure like when Logan would get a papercut and Patton would insist on kissing it better or when Virgil’s pet spider Kat would escape his room and Patton would jump on the table and scream.

So as an experiment Remus poured a big helping of salt into Roman’s coffee one morning and when Roman began screaming of how it felt like he was ‘drinking the water of cold, unforgiving and salty seas’ Janus went into his deep villainous belly laugh at the scene. While Logan just rolled his eyes and Patton ran up to Roman all concerned like the father figment he was.

(Virgil was still asleep because he’s not a morning person)

That result said it all, Janus’s Hysterical hacker was another's pain/misfortune. Remus beamed as he wrote it down in his notes.

Hysterical Hackers

Emo widow — puns

Daddy — cat videos

Romano Cheese — family friendly humor

Lies and dulls — other’s pain

Logie bear —

But as Remus finished writing he came to a realization, there was one side left to figure out. His boyfriend. Logan.

You’d think that being his lover Remus could figure out his Hysterical Hacker with ease but now that Remus was thinking about it, he hadn’t really seen Logan laugh before. Maybe he had seen him chuckle once or twice but Remus couldn’t even recall a specific time he saw Logan do that.

That realization made Remus feel sad, He couldn’t remember a time his own boyfriend, the freaking light of his light, had laughed.

But that realization also made Remus more determined than ever to complete his research project. He'd make Logan laugh even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

It was time to get serious. Logan as the logical side didn’t spend time doodling on emotions or things like that so Remus had little to go off of. So that meant he’d need to experiment.

Remus cracked joke after joke around Logan day after day but came up empty handed each time.

Remus upped his pranking game on all of the other sides but each time Logan observed a prank happening he would only roll his eyes at the display.

Remus spied on Logan for hours on end but he got nothing even, when Logan was alone he wouldn’t laugh at anything.

Remus kept trying day after day to get Logan to laugh, he kept getting more and more desperate for it. It almost became like a craving to hear Logan laugh; it was starting to drive Remus insane. He just had to hear Logan laugh, he just had to!

After a full week, Remus had run out of patience so that meant he would need to get information straight from the source and not through spying, experiments or research.

“Logan, I need your help.” Remus rose up into Logan’s room with no warning and interrupted the rhythm of clattering keys of Logan’s computer.

Logan turned in his spinnable desk chair to face his boyfriend, Logan’s rise teemed with interest. They had collaborated on many different projects together and it only made sense really, they were a perfect pair for answering questions.

“Yes Remus, how may I be of assistance?” Logan asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Remus didn’t hesitate before he started explaining his predicament to Logan.

“So I started this research project a few weeks ago about what each of the sides hysterical hackers are.”

Logan’s head tilted to the side like a curious puppy’s would.

“Hysterical Hacker?”

“What makes each side laugh, like really laugh.” Remus contextualized

“Ok, please continue.”

“So after I figured out the other’s Hysterical Hackers and I moved on to yours but I couldn’t really find anything that makes you laugh even after I did experiments, observations, you know that sciency stuff you're supposed to do.”

Logan gave a hum of understanding before he got up from his desk chair before speaking again. “I must admit I don’t have much of a sense of humor.”

“Well I could tell that much.” Remus joked sarcastically but inside he was bursting with curiosity. He had come to find out what makes Logan laugh but it appeared that even Logan didn’t know.

“But if you wish, I can help you gather more data.” Logan offered and Remus didn’t hesitate before he responded.

“Yes, so where do we start Logie?”

“Firstly I’d like to hear what results you got with the other’s”

“Well P*ssys is family disney humor, papa bear’s is cat videos, Double dee’s is other pain and tickle me emo ‘s is pun of all things.”

Logan's face tinged with a blush and Remus wondered for a minute if it was something he said. Logan didn’t mind Remus’s colorful vocabulary and his usual reaction to it was an eyeroll, so what prompted the blushing?

Logan centered himself and pushed more words out. “I see, well then since everyone’s Hysterical Hacker is different, we can assume that mine is different too.”

“Lo lo are you ok, your face is all red?”

“I’m quite alright Remus.” Logan’s answer however did not satisfy Remus and he didn’t need the snake like lie detector to know Logan wasn’t telling him the truth. So Remus did the only Logical thing.

Remus ran forward full speed at Logan and tackled Logan down to the floor, sitting on his hips and hands pushing down on his belly to keep him down

“Re–Remus what are you doing?” Logan’s voice was up a few ocatives and the blush on his face got redder and spread across his face.

“You are going to tell me why you are all blushy or I will leave at the top of a broken ferris wheel until you confess!” Remus never made an empty threat and Logan knew this all too well.

“I’m fine–just get your hands off–off me!” Logan's voice also sounded a bit strained and Remus could help but wonder why. That’s when he noticed Logan’s belly trembling under his hands and before Remus could truly think it through he began skimming his fingers over Logan’s tummy.

Logan’s lips flattened and he bit down on his bottom lip which was enough for Remus to understand.

“Aww… is the nerd ticklish?” Remus asked in a baby voice that made Logan so flustered he couldn’t even get words out.

But that still answered Remus' question, Remus found a way to make Logan laugh and he’d say now was a pretty good time to exploit it.

Given Logan seemed to be able to hold in his laughter while Remus was tickling his tummy that meant it wasn’t his weak spot and that meant Remus would need to experiment some.

“Where are you ticklish Starlight?” Remus asked, pausing the movement of his hands for Logan to catch his breath and answer. Remus, being smart, also pulled both of Logan's hands above his head and put them both in his left hand freeing his right hand for tickling.

“I am not ticklish!” Logan insisted, which was the biggest lie Remus ever heard.

“Oh ok, so if I were to pinch your side then you wouldn’t react?” Remus' hand went to pinch Logan’s side and Logan’s mouth tightened around itself probably in an effort to not laugh.

“You need to laugh!” Remus stated. “I command you to laugh for me!” With that being said Remus started scribbling his nails into Logan’s side and then it was all over.

“Ahhhhhahahahahahah no no no REEhehehmush nohahahahahahaht there.” Logan’s laugh was so sweet and light and Remus became addicted to it almost instantly.

“No way Jose, now I need to find all of your tickle spots, so you make things easy and just tell me where your tickle spot is or I can tickle you everywhere until I find it.” Both of Remus’s options were not what Logan was hoping for but Remus was so adorable and maybe he would go easy on him if just told him.

All taken into consideration Logan got out in between laughs “Knees” and Remus did not need to told twice.

Remus let go of Logan’s hands and turned around and sat on Logan’s thighs. Remus' hands went onto Logan's knees and gave them each a squeeze, Logan let out a squeal and his leg began thrashing around, trying to escape.

“Someone’s got very ticklish knees.” Remus smirked at Logan as he began to trace circles around them which got Logan giggling. “But I don’t think your knees are what I’m looking for.”

“Wehehehehehell whahahahat are you lohohohahahaking for?” Logan’s speech was infested with giggles and it made the ever so stoic logical side look a little sillier.

“Your Hysterical Hacker of course!” Remus exclaimed, punctuating the sentence with a squeeze of Logan’s kneecap. “If you won’t laugh on your own, then I’ll make you.”

Well if Logan wasn’t flustered before, he most certainly was now. Remus stopped tickling his knees and Logan took the chance to catch his breath because he knew that Remus wasn’t done with him yet.

Remus carefully examined Logan trying to decide on where else to try tickling him. His sides and knees were certainly good spots but not the best spot clearly. Then Remus’s eyes fell on Logan’s feet which were still dressed in shoes and socks.

In all of the time Remus had spent spying on Logan he hadn’t really seen Logan take off his shoes much. Except when just before he went to bed.

Oh Remus was good.

Wasting no time Remus moved down and sat on Logan’s legs and began to untie the laces on Logan’s shoes, it didn’t take long for Logan to catch on to Remus' devious plan.

“No, no Remus! No, not there!” Logan tried pulling his legs out from Remus but with no success due to Remus’s weight being on top of him.

“Actually Lo lo you said you’d help me find your Hysterical Hacker and if you really want to help me then you’ll sit nice and still and let me experiment.” Remus’s voice had gone uncharacteristically flat as he talked to Logan and Logan found himself with no other options than just to sit there and wait.

Once Logan’s socks were off his feet Remus started Gently running his fingers down the arch of Logan’s foot and he was not expecting the reaction that he got.

“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA *Snort* HAHAHAHA REHEHAHAHAH *Snort*”

Remus’s finger’s stopped and he looked back at Logan, who was bright red and now had a hand covering his mouth in embarrassment.

“Jesus f*cking christ Logan, did you just snort?” Remus asked in disbelief, were his ears playing tricks on him?

Logan looked away but nodded, Remus shocked expression turned into an ear splitting grin as he squealed to Logan. “Oh my f*ck that’s so adorkable!”

“No it’s not, it's embarrassing!” Logan argued, Remus's gears were now turning. Was this why Logan never laughed? Because he was embarrassed. Well wouldn’t do at all.

Remus grabbed Logan's foot again and began tickling the skin under his toes and that got Logan screaming.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHA *Snort* NHOHOHOHOHOHO *Snort* REHEHEHEHAHAHAMUHUHS.”

“Logan, you listen to me, and listen well!” Remus ordered to the laughing side beneath him. “Your laugh is amazing and you had better start laughing more often and if you don’t then I’ll tickle you until you pass out everyday, ok?”

“YEHEHEHEHAHAHAHSHSHSH OK JUHUHUHSTSTST STSTAHAHAP!”

Remus let go of Logan’s foot and got up off of him. Remus sat and watched his Boyfriend catch his breath and once he saw Logan lay limp on his bedroom floor he spoke to him.

“Hey, you alive?”

“Well no thanks to you.” Logan grumbled back to him.

“It was for science, my laughy Logie.” Remus insisted to Logan.

“Don’t call me that.” Logan though found himself giggling at the silly pet name.

“But it suits you so well.” Remus came down to Logan and gave him a kiss on the cheek which must have changed Logan’s mind because he didn’t argue back anymore.

“Well then I need to go update notes, I love you my laughy Logie.” Remus sunk down and rose back into his room to finish up his notes.

Hysterical Hackers

Emo widow — puns

Daddy — cat videos

Romano cheese — family friendly humor

Lies and dulls — other’s pain

Logie bear — tickling his sides, knees or feet (further research might be needed for my laughy Logie)

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Virgil is rescued by a family of selkies after being abandoned at sea. Virgil's poor gay heart may just explode.

Author: @the-sympathetic-villain

[too-many-things-at-once]

y'all can ppl give me some good sanders sides fanfics?

perferably prinxiety, but ill also take logicality, analogical, demus and maybe intrulogical, platonic or romantic

again, anything good, but a supernatral or apocalypse au or oneshots would slap hard

and no idc about self plugging, you get your reads shawty

thank youuu

[rosepetalgold]

the art of saying goodbye

Summary: Remus expects a lot of things from the Queen Anne Victorian house he’s just purchased—a restoration project to occupy his time, some peace and quiet from nosy neighbors, a chance to brag about being a homeowner before his goody two-shoes brother.

What he doesn’t expect is for the property to come with a very real, very curious ghost. But what is he supposed to do, just ignore the spirit? That'd be nothing short of rude, especially considering that the specter's fascination with modern science and penchant for hijacking Remus' technology proves unfairly endearing.

But even as their unlikely friendship grows, so too do the questions swirling in Remus’ mind: Why is Logan still haunting the place he used to live? Who is the mysterious Janus he refuses to talk about? And what will it take for the ghost to finally find peace with the life and the love that were stolen from him so long ago?

Relationships: Platonic Intrulogical, past romantic Loceit, background romantic Prinxiety

Warnings for this chapter: None!

Word Count: 7000

Notes: My fic for this year's @sandersidesbigbang, aka another angsty tale that inexplicably grew out of a single fluffy scene, aka a prime excuse to procrastinate by poring through countless photos of beautiful Queen Anne houses my beloved. I hope you enjoy this ghostie story as much I enjoyed writing it! A big shoutout to my wonderful beta reader @dragonsaphirareads for all their feedback on this fic, and don't miss the amazing art by the incredible @casart and @onthevirgeofdestruction—you can check out their pieces here and here! (Seriously, even if you don't read the fic, go feast your eyes on their work because it is straight-up stunning. Go look, you'll see.)

Read on Ao3 Masterpost

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start (you’re here!) - next

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“This place is definitely haunted.”

Remus snorts, giving his brother a friendly sock in the arm.

“Oh come on, Ro, you scared of a few ghosties now? Afraid a floating white sheet is gonna jump out and yell boo?”

Roman doesn’t answer, just eyes the Queen Anne Victorian home in front of them with the amount of trepidation he usually reserved for any time Remus started a sentence with ‘I have an idea.’ The house does give off distinctly spooky vibes, Remus has to admit, what with its boards in desperate need of a new coat of paint and its broken window in the attic, not to mention the porch that looks liable to send someone plummeting to the ground if they take a single wrong step, but what was wrong with any of that? It all just added to the building’s character, and the risk of falling through the veranda was a delightful way to keep visitors on their toes, in his superior opinion.

And besides, he couldn’t turn his nose up at the property’s many flaws when they made it dirt-cheap. He wasn’t exactly a millionaire.

He grabs Roman’s arm, tugging him forward.

“C’mon, there’s some wicked spindlework on the back you gotta check out.”

His brother makes a sound of protest, dragging his feet as Remus hauls him onward.

“Aren’t we going to go inside?”

“Nah, I don’t have the keys yet. Everything’s still pending or whatever.”

Roman shifts his incredulous gaze from the house to Remus.

“You made me come all this way just to look at the outside of a house you haven’t even officially bought yet?”

Why yes, he had. He was such a good brother.

“Don’t act like it’s such a burden to drive twenty minutes out of the way to get here, especially when it means you’re twenty minutes closer to a booty call with Virgil.”

Roman splutters, face flushing a splendidly scandalized shade of crimson, and Remus cackles. That was more like it.

“Now c’mon c’mon c’mon, the sooner you ooh and aah over all my cool house shit, the sooner you can get some of that good di—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Roman interrupts, slapping his hands over his ears, but he doesn’t protest as Remus pulls him around to the back of the house and points out the expansive if overgrown backyard, the plethora of decorative elements adorning the home, the leaded glass windows that have survived well over a century.

“I don’t get it, though,” Roman says as he eyes the tower gracing the corner of the house, something Remus would swear is a hint of jealousy in his gaze. Made sense. He knows for a fact his brother would sell his soul to be Rapunzel. “If this is such a nice place, why has it sat empty for so long?”

“Dunno. The realtor just said it stayed in the family of the guy who built it for a while before changing hands a bunch. Apparently every time it’s been on the market it’s taken ages to find a buyer, but she didn’t really say why no one wanted to live here for too long.” Probably just her trying not to scare him away from what was clearly a substantial restoration project so she wouldn’t lose her commission. Either that or there was some kind of toxic fungus in the walls that had taken over all the previous residents’ brains and turned them into zombies and Remus was about to become its next victim.

What a delightful gamble to find out which one it was.

“Can we please go now before some serial killer comes charging out of this place and we both end up on the news?” Roman asks, already edging back towards the front of the house.

“Sure, if you really want to give up your one shot of having your fifteen minutes of fame in the media,” Remus replies, dancing away with a grin as Roman aims a kick at his shins. “Fine, fine, we’ll go. I wouldn’t want to keep you from a hot date and some—”

Something catches his attention, a flash of movement out of the very corner of his eye, and he pauses mid-stride, doing a double-take at the second-story balcony overlooking the backyard.

Nothing. Not even a curtain blowing in the non-existent breeze.

“What?” Roman questions from where he’s also stopped a few yards ahead of him.

Remus looks a moment longer, searching for anything out of place, but all is still.

“Nothing. Probably just a bat or something. Wouldn’t that be cool as shit, to have bats as roommates? Hey, maybe they have rabies if they’re out in the daytime. Did you know…”

He launches into a spiel of the most gruesome and fascinating facts he knows about the disease, joyfully watching his brother’s face grow increasingly horrified with each one as they make their way back across the yard, and by the time they reach the driveway, the flicker of movement is barely a blip on his mental radar.

Just a trick of his eyes, surely.

It wasn’t like houses could actually be haunted, after all.

---

Home sweet home.

Or home rundown-and-slightly-musty-smelling home, as the case may be, but who was Remus to nitpick?

He fits his shiny new key into the lock and steps inside, letting the door click shut solidly behind him as he pauses just over the threshold, taking a moment to survey the foyer. His foyer now, in his very own home. The sale had been endless offers and counteroffers and a mountain of paperwork so large he’s positive he could have buried himself beneath it and never been seen again, but the place is finally his.

Him, a homeowner. Who’d have thunk it. He’ll be rubbing this in Roman’s apartment-renting face every chance he can get, thank you very much. It’s the least he can do, really.

He unceremoniously deposits the cardboard box in his arms on the floor and wanders further inside, trailing his hand along the smooth wood of the stair banister as he passes. He’s supposed to be meeting some of his friends back at his old place shortly—or now, actually, but that was wholly irrelevant—to start moving all of his worldly possessions into his fancy new abode, but he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of taking the first load of boxes alone just to have the place to himself for a bit; he could use a few minutes to enjoy the space in peace before it’s filled with Roman and Virgil squabbling about the worst Disney movie heroes or whatever argument they were bound to get into.

Despite its well-worn exterior, the house is in surprisingly good condition inside, he muses as he roams through the empty rooms. There’s clearly extensive work that needs to be done if he wants to restore the place to its Victorian glory, an ambitious undertaking he knows will be neither cheap nor easy, but the bones of the structure are all solid, especially considering how many years it’s stood empty.

He finishes his meandering loop around the first floor and heads up the stairs, the tread of his steps entirely too loud for the pervasive quiet as he continues his exploratory wandering through the second story rooms. He pauses as he reaches what is clearly the master bedroom, surveying the original fireplace, the century-old hardwood, the attached balcony that was just begging to be used to pour water onto his unsuspecting brother’s head. Shit, his new house was cool as fuck.

It’d make the most sense to start hauling his load of boxes here, considering that’s where most of his crap is going to end up eventually, but the longer he hovers in the doorway, the more something feels … off. Just the slightest tingle prickling down his spine, and not the good kind. He steps inside and the temperature drops noticeably, a chill raising the hair on his arms.

“The fuck?” he mutters, raking his gaze over the windows in search of damaged panes letting in a breeze, but everything is intact.

He advances another step on impulse and the pinpricks dancing along his vertebrae only grow stronger, now accompanied by the distinct feeling he’s being watched. He scans the room again, slower this time, but there’s no furniture, no closet, not so much as a nook or cranny for anyone or anything to hide. Even the ceiling is empty when he turns his gaze upwards on the off chance he really does have some bats hanging around that he’s somehow missed on his numerous pre-sale walk-throughs.

Nary a beady eye to be found and still the sensation of being in someone’s sights doesn’t lessen. Not that it’s a threatening feeling, exactly, just distinctly unsettling, like there’s someone behind him no matter how many times he glances over his shoulder and finds nothing but empty air.

But that was crazy. He’d read the final sale documents until his eyes had been about to start bleeding and he’s absolutely positive that the house hadn’t come with any roommates. He’s probably just imagining the feeling, the result of watching one too many horror movies in the last week or his brain making things up in an attempt to liven up the empty space.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, yanking him out of his thoughts, and he rolls his eyes without even looking at the screen, already able to see the text from Roman in his mind’s eye: where you at?? i’m not packing up all your crap for you followed by an absurdly long string of emojis that basically constituted their own Roman-specific hieroglyphic language.

Time to face the moving-day music before Roman got annoyed enough with waiting that he rescinded his promise of free manual labor, then. Any investigations of potential invisible voyeurs would have to wait, no matter how titillating such a prospect sounded when he put it like that.

“You win for now, house,” he says into the quiet as he turns to leave, an edge of coldness still dancing along the goosebumps on his skin. “Keep your secrets. I’ll figure ‘em out eventually.”

---

The afternoon passes in a blur of hauling entirely too many heavy boxes and unwieldy pieces of furniture to the new house, and by the time night settles onto the horizon, Remus is utterly exhausted. He flops back on the couch, too tired to even think about putting his bedframe together, and he’s out in minutes.

He wakes disoriented, mind scrabbling blankly for a moment before the darkness coalesces into the still-unfamiliar contours of his sitting room. He just lies there for a moment, trying to figure out what’s roused him, but all is still. Just his brain deciding to deprive him of some tantalizingly horrifying nightmares, unfortunately—

Tap tap tap.

Remus bolts upright at the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hardwood upstairs, adrenaline surging in a dizzying rush. There hadn’t been any signs of a squatter all day, and surely he’d remembered to lock the doors so no one could steal all the crap he’d just spent a whole day of his life lugging around. He waits for a moment, holding his breath as silence falls, and just when he’s about to pass the whole thing off as his imagination playing tricks on him, the steps start up again, slow and rhythmic like someone is pacing on the upper level.

Fuck his luck. If someone is secretly living in the attic of his fancy new home, he’s not going to be pleased.

He rolls off the couch and snatches his phone off of one of the plethora of boxes waiting to be unpacked, debating whether to risk turning on the flashlight before deciding for it; he might give away any element of surprise with the beam, but he’s certain to give it away if he starts banging face-first into walls or cracking his skull open falling down the stairs. His eye catches on a glass paperweight on the coffee table, a characteristically pretentious housewarming present from Roman, who apparently thought Remus had so many papers flying about that he needed to corral them with a glorified rock, and he seizes it on a whim.

Makeshift weapon was a much more useful purpose for the thing than its intended function anyways.

He edges around the scattered boxes towards the stairs, careful to keep his steps light and his hand shielding the light from his phone as the footfalls continue overhead, and makes it all the way up the steps without so much as a creak to give him away.

Flawless. He knew all those times sneaking up behind Roman to scare the shit out of him as kids would pay off someday.

He pauses on the landing to triangulate the noise, then creeps down the hall towards the footsteps as the sound grows even more distinct. The master bedroom again? What the actual fuck was going on with that room? Had he really managed to miss someone in there when he’d investigated earlier in the day? No, he couldn’t have, but then how had someone managed to get past where he’d been sleeping on the couch? Unless he really did have somebody living in the walls—

A floorboard squeaks underneath his foot, deafeningly loud in the quiet of the night, and the footsteps abruptly stop. Remus swears under his breath. Traitorous piece of wood. Now or never, then.

He lunges forward into the doorway of the master bedroom, raising the paperweight and howling a war cry as he swings his light across the room to reveal—

Nothing. The space is as entirely and utterly empty as it had been that morning.

Well, shit. There went any element of surprise he had left.

He darts back into the hall, racing to search through the rest of the rooms on the upper level one by one, but they’re all just as vacant as the first. He even hauls himself into the attic, bracing himself to be clubbed over the head by whoever is lurking, but with the exception of innumerable shadows billowing away from his flashlight, the space proves equally empty as the rest.

Unease stirs in his gut, creeping in alongside the lingering adrenaline as he makes his way back down the precariously rickety ladder into the main house. Surely there’s no way someone could have gotten past him, not when he would have heard them in the hall or going down the stairs.

And yet, as far as he can tell, besides a few mice tucked away in the attic, there isn’t another living soul in the house.

He stops in the doorway of the master bedroom again, staring inside. He’s positive this is where the footsteps had been emanating from, lack of proof be damned. Something weird was going on with this house.

Good thing Remus had just made the biggest financial commitment of his life to buy it.

Nothing for it now but to hope some elusive, wall-dwelling ax murderer doesn’t give him the chop in his sleep, he supposes, although he has to admit that’d be a badass way to go.

He reluctantly makes his way back downstairs and shoves a pile of boxes at the foot of the stairs to trip any nefarious intruders coming down, then retreats back to the couch, all the while keeping his ears primed for so much as a whisper of sound above him.

But even though it takes him a long time to drift back to sleep, the house around him remains as silent as a grave.

---

The whole thing must have been an impressively lucid dream, Remus decides the next morning. A second investigation in the light of day doesn’t reveal anything out of place: no shoe prints on the floor, no critters, certainly no people. It was probably nothing then, he tries to convince himself, just his overactive imagination needing an outlet after being a bit too jittery from all the excitement of moving.

But he finds himself pausing in the master bedroom again, something drawing him back to the space. First the chill and the strange feeling of being watched, then the mysterious footsteps? Two separate coincidences, or something more?

God, he sounded about as paranoid as Virgil. Next thing he knew he was going to be inventing his very own conspiracy theory to explain a few bumps in the night.

It really was nothing, he tells himself, shaking off any lingering unease as he tromps back down the stairs. If he starts jumping at every little noise in his old-as-shit house, he’ll be long dead before he gets the property restored. If he starts seeing glowing red eyes in the dark, he’ll start to worry. Until then, he has a mountain of boxes to unpack.

Unfortunately, said mountain does not pull a Beauty and the Beast and begin unpacking itself, leaving Remus to spend a dreadfully dull afternoon doing it instead, only the allure of building a fort out of all the empty boxes keeping him from living out of cardboard for the rest of his life.

By the time he’s finally finished unboxing most of the downstairs and getting the tv and wifi set up, most of the day has passed him by, afternoon sunlight splaying golden fingers across the hardwood.

Break time, then. He’s earned it, if he does say so himself.

He collapses onto the couch, flipping on the tv and surfing through the channels until he finds a rerun of some low-budget horror film from the eighties. Perfect. Nothing like a bit of mindless tv to rot his brain just that much more. Settling back more comfortably into the cushions, he pops open the bag of chips he’s snagged from the kitchen and pulls out his phone, beginning to scroll through his notifications.

Modern multitasking at its finest, truly.

But he’s barely a minute into atrophying his mind via social media before the tv starts flickering, volume dropping precipitously before ratcheting back up, the picture jumping to the weather channel, then a British cooking show, then the news with Spanish subtitles flashing in and out at the bottom of the screen.

Remus freezes with a chip halfway to his mouth, staring at the remote where it’s very definitely out of his reach on the coffee table, all by its lonesome. He’s no expert, but he’s pretty sure technology was not, in fact, supposed to suddenly start functioning by itself without any human input. Was his new house secretly sitting over some freaky radioactive waste? That would certainly explain why no one had wanted to buy it. Or was this some EMP disaster? Had someone decided to take out the whole country’s power grid, starting with Remus’ shitty tv?

He sits up, reaching for the rogue remote, only to pause as a chill moves over him, then past him like it’s heading for the tv, and the screen crackles, static beginning to fuzz both the video and the audio as the picture continues to leap wildly between programs.

Fuck the remote, then. Whatever freak accident has descended upon his living room, it’s time to go straight to the source.

Abandoning his snack, he stands, striding to the outlet and yanking the plug out of the wall. Silence falls immediately, the screen fading to black, but there still lingers a noticeable chill in the air, cold energy palpable against his skin and all too reminiscent of the feeling he remembers from being in the master bedroom.

“What the hell,” he mutters under his breath, casting his gaze around the room. Empty, just as upstairs had been the last three times he’d checked. He takes a step backwards, then another, and the strange chill decreases. On a whim, he pulls out his phone, scrolling through several apps without even paying attention to them, and sure enough, the hair on his arms raises as the temperature falls again, that sparking feeling of energy growing more intense as his phone begins to flicker on its own.

“What the actual hell,” he whispers again. Roman can’t have been right—this place can’t actually be haunted. There’s absolutely no way there’s a real, live—or dead, technically, he supposes—ghost in his living room right now playing fuck-up-the-electronics.

But if there is…

“Hello?” he calls, and the flickering abruptly stops, chill retreating once more. Shit. One word in and apparently Remus has already fucked things up. “Hello?” he tries again. Did this maybe-possible-potential ghostie even speak English? “I’m Remus,” he says, feeling more than a little crazy for introducing himself to his empty living room. If Roman ever knew of this, he’d die laughing and then Remus really would have a ghost haunting his ass.

He wracks his brain for something to say. If he were a ghost and a stranger started moving all of their shit into his home, what would he want to hear from them?

“Um, cool house you have here. I’m not gonna like, fuck it up or anything.”

Silence.

“I’m planning on restoring it bit by bit as I have money so if you could tell me the original paint color or wallpaper patterns, that’d be dope.”

Still nothing. Apparently the ghost is not amused. Time for a different tactic, then.

“What’s your name?”

Not even a cricket chirping. Jesus fucking christ, Remus is really blowing this.

“That’s the tv—the television,” he explains, gesturing towards the device that had seemingly either fascinated or enraged his new housemate, he can’t quite tell which. “It works by… well, I don’t really know how it works. Something with waves and frequencies or some shit? But you can watch recordings, people acting or baking or doing dumb reality dating shows or whatever, so if there’s something that you wanna see…”

He trails off, surreptitiously scanning the room for any ethereal presences, but the house is quiet, the ghostly feeling fading bit by bit. Great. An actual paranormal experience and he’s gone and shoved his foot so far in his mouth he can practically feel his toes wiggling in his small intestine.

“Alright, that’s cool, no worries. Just lemme know if you change your mind.”

He waits a moment more, hoping for a disembodied voice to speak or an object to start moving on its own or his body to suddenly become possessed, but there’s nothing. Snagging his leather jacket off the back of the couch, he beelines for the door, forcing himself not to run as excitement begins to grow with every step, bubbling up around his bones. He has a ghost. A ghost, an actual fucking ghost, and he hadn’t even had to pay extra for it. No way he’s not going to take advantage of the universe handing him the sickest housewarming present in the world, never mind the fact that he might end up a walking meat suit for the spirit.

He pauses as he reaches the edge of the yard, then thinks better of it and pivots, heading for his car instead. Who knew how far ghost range was, and he doesn’t want his new roomie overhearing. He’s practically vibrating with energy as he makes his way down the long, winding drive, and he only makes it a few miles down the road before he’s pulling over onto the shoulder, hopefully well out of spirit range.

His first call rings through to voicemail, but Remus doesn’t bother leaving a message, just hangs up and tries again, only to be met with the same result. The third time, though, proves to be the charm.

“What,” the voice on the other end spits, cheerful as ever. “Fuck you, Remus, I’m in the middle of—”

“You’re still into all that weird stuff, right? Like the cryptids and the creepies and the ghouls and ghosties and all that?” Remus interrupts. He can deal with Virgil’s wrath another time—he has information he needs and he needs it pronto.

A pause, so long he’s sure Virgil has hung up on him and he’s going to have to keep calling until the emo answers his question.

“Yeah?” the distrustful reply finally comes, anger blunted by obvious wariness. “Why—”

“I need to pick your brain,” Remus cuts in again. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

---

Plan Contact The Resident Possibly Unfriendly Ghost Who Might Possess Him, or CTRPUGWMPH to be short and snappy about it, is officially a go.

Unfortunately, it isn’t off to a promising start.

Virgil’s knowledge had turned out to be more spirit lore than specifics about how to get a ghost to actually appear, although he’d been infinitely more helpful than Roman, who’d just stared at him and asked if he’d had the house checked for carbon monoxide poisoning. Remus had soundly ignored him and had left Virgil’s apartment with his head swimming with theories about why ghosts haunt particular places and an extensive lecture from Virgil about how to find any potential objects or reasons tying a ghost to the house that might provide a potential talking point to engage said ghost in conversation.

But despite digging into every crack and crevice on the internet, emailing the local historical society, even calling his realtor to ask again about the history of the property, Remus comes up with precious little. The house had originally been built in the 1880s by a local merchant, everyone seems to agree, and had been inherited by his nephew soon after, but beyond that there’s frustratingly scant information available, and he can’t find so much as a whisper about anyone dying in the home. His ghostie could be anyone, then: A Victorian builder who’d taken a tumble, a flapper girl who’d partied a tad too hard, a hapless victim of some modern serial killer who’d taken advantage of the place sitting abandoned for years to do a bit of light murdering. 

With precisely zero context clues as to his new housemate’s identity, then, Remus embraces his remarkable talent of keeping up an entirely one-sided conversation as he works around the house the next few days, rambling about anything and everything related to the property he can think of, hoping something will pique the ghost’s interest. But besides a few more cold spots and flickering screens, the house remains stubbornly quiet. Maybe his ghost just needed a bit of help in communicating, though; drifting around an empty building with no one to talk to for the past god-knew-how-many years can’t have done good things to their incorporeal vocal cords.

Which brings him to Plan B: The infamous Ouija board, favorite tool of grifters and bullshit paranormalists everywhere.

And yet despite the makeshift, very high-budget seance he conducts with the two dollar board and the zero dollar candles he’s lovingly stolen from his brother, there’s once again no reply from beyond the veil besides a chill in the room that somehow radiates disapproval. Apparently his ghost isn’t a fan of pseudoscientific games any more than he is. At least they had standards, whoever they were.

But Remus is a stubborn bastard if he does say so himself, so on to Plan C it is. The used EMF meter he snags off of ebay has definitely seen better days, given the prominent crack across its screen, but the thing had been cheap and still seemed to work, so Remus wasn’t complaining.  Fancy equipment was for fancy people, after all, and of all the things he’s ever been called, he’s positive fancy isn’t one of them. He sets up the device behind the tv, which still seems to intrigue his ghost every time it’s turned on, puts on the first show he can find, and forces himself to walk away. His little trap is set. Now all he has to do is bide his time pretending to busy himself unpacking a box of books in the next room—

He barely has the chance to register the tv screen flickering out of the corner of his eye before an ear-splitting shriek is rending the air, startling him so violently that he promptly drops a hefty tome on his foot.

“Shit,” he breathes, surging back into the living room, but the noise has already stopped just as suddenly as it began, replaced by a frigid chill permeating the room. Maybe he should have thought twice about scaring the resident phantom without first hiding any of his valuables. Hopefully he won’t wake up tomorrow to find his tv shattered. “It won’t hurt you,” he calls, though the EMF meter indicates a distinct lack of any supernatural presences. “It just makes noise to let me know when you’re nearby, yeah? Totally harmless.”

No response, but for once he doesn’t mind, not when there’s excitement dancing white-hot across his nerves. There really is a ghost or spirit or demon or something here, and he hasn’t just been imagining things.

Fuck, this house is single-handedly the coolest thing that’s ever happened to him, even if he does now have to worry about his haunting buddy getting a bit of revenge on him in the middle of the night.

But Remus survives safe and sound into the next day without so much as a supernatural scratch on his skin. Bloody payback didn’t seem like his ghost’s style anyways, not when their favorite activity seemed to be pressing as many buttons as possible on the tv remote at once. Curiosity is still nipping impatiently at his heels though, urging him to explore this latest avenue of potential communication more, so he sets up the EMF meter again, this time in the master bedroom where the spirit seems most inclined to spend time if the continued pacing in the middle of the night is anything to go by.

A brilliant plan, only minorly ruined by the fact that the device is nowhere to be found when he goes searching for it the next morning.

“Are you disappearing things, ghostie?” he asks the empty bedroom. “Gonna zap me into another dimension next?”

 He’s joking, but as his hunt through the house reveals neither hide nor hair of the EMF meter, he can’t help but wonder. Had the ghost really just yeeted the thing into the ether? Or maybe it was right where he’d left it in the middle of the bedroom, but had been turned invisible like the spirit themself? What kind of ghostly superpowers did he even have, if any—

He comes to an abrupt halt as he emerges out the back door onto the porch, a laugh spilling past his lips as he surveys the myriad bits of metal and broken plastic strewn around him. Looks like he’s found his EMF meter. Apparently his ghost wasn’t nearly as endeared to this technology as he was anything with a screen. He glances up to the master bedroom window over his head, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Fair enough,” he calls, still fighting down amusement despite himself, and there’s the faintest shimmer in the air above the balcony, reminiscent of a heat mirage despite the cool morning air. “No more screeching little boxes.”

Left with zero information about his ghost’s identity, a useless Ouija board better repurposed as a doorstop, and the remains of his one piece of official ghost-hunting equipment, Remus concludes his only option is to embark on Plan D. Said plan isn’t so much an strategic approach as it is a wild hail mary to find any way to communicate with his ghost that didn’t involved hurling objects from balconies, as much fun as such an activity was, but then again, Plan D did sound delightfully dirty, so he’ll take the trade-off.

The internet, of course, is the place to turn to for highly questionable ghost advice, and it only takes a single google search to find message boards teeming with it. Half of it is clearly bullshit, he quickly discovers as he trawls through post after useless post, and the other half is baseless theories without any semblance of evidence to back them up, but just as he’s about to call it quits and move on to whatever the hell Plan E is, an old thread catches his eye.

‘Old Ghost Caught By Photography?’ the title reads, and Remus skims through the post, intrigued despite himself at the detailed claims the author had been able to capture the image of a Victorian spirit by using an antique camera and photography methods from the end of the nineteenth century. He pores over the attached images, searching for the slightest hint of photoshop or manipulation, but everything seems legit. And it made sense in some weird, probably illogical way, he supposes, that ghosts might only be spotted by using technology from their day and age—historical continuity in the metaphysical realm or some shit.

It’s the best lead he has after hours of searching, and really, he’s just spent a very hefty chunk of change buying a whole-ass house; what was the harm in dropping a few more dollars on some vintage photography equipment?

Which is precisely how he finds himself crammed into his makeshift darkroom in the tiny closet under the stairs several weeks later, holding his breath as he carefully begins to look through the latest batch of negatives he’s just finished processing. It had taken an obscene amount of research, a healthy dose of trial-and-error, and more than a few failures to figure out the intricacies of the dry plate photography process, but he’d gotten there in the end, even if the most he has to show for it is a few suspicious blurs in a couple of images.

Maybe this whole idea of capturing ghosts in photos was just as bullshit as the others, he muses as he examines yet another empty picture of the dining room, or maybe his ghost wasn’t from the same era as the camera he’d bought. Maybe his ghost simply didn’t want to have his photo taken, or maybe—

His train of thought abruptly derails as he picks up the next plate.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

The image is still a negative, the reversed colors lending a certain eeriness to the picture under the red darkroom lights, but there, right smack in the middle of the photo—a figure. An actual human figure, clear as day, looking right at the camera. Remus whoops, nearly knocking over a vial of chemicals with his elbow as he dances backwards in pure giddiness. Oh fuck yes , there is a ghost haunting the place. His ghost, now that he owns the house. His ghost who is…

He pauses, forcing himself to focus on the figure in the photo even as he feels like he’s about to vibrate right off of his bones with excitement. Spectacles, clean-shaven, dark hair neatly styled. Neat trousers, white shirt, trim waistcoat, and a decidedly fancy ascot, the whole ensemble distinctly old-fashioned. Victorian, then? Or Edwardian? Or some historical reenactor who’d met an untimely demise in costume? And it does seem to be an untimely demise; the man looks to be in his mid- to late-twenties, unless he’d found some ability to look whatever age he wanted in the afterlife.

Regardless, he can’t make himself focus on fashion for long. He has a ghost to talk to. Fighting his way out of the cramped closet, he bounds up the stairs, forcing himself to slow to a respectable jog as he darts into the master bedroom. He stops in the middle of the still-bare room, trying and utterly failing to keep his hopes in check.

“Hello? Ghostie?”

No response.

“Mr. Glasses and White Shirt?” 

His skin prickles, the hair on the back of his neck raising. Aha. There he was. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He turns in a slow circle, searching for any sign of his specter, any flicker of light off a spectacle lens or a flash of a shirtsleeve, but the room is as empty as ever.

“I have a photo if you’d like to see it.” Could ghosts not see themselves in mirrors or was that only vampire lore? And if he couldn’t see his own reflection, did the ghost even remember what he looked like?

He raises the picture, proferring the negative to the vacant room, and holds his breath. Nothing, for several long moments, and then the chill edges closer. Remus bites his lip, barely able to keep himself from bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of a ghost being within arm’s reach.

“I wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything, I just wanted to see if you were real or if I needed to go check myself into a padded room, you know? I’m Remus, if I haven’t said that. What’s your name?”

Several more excruciatingly long moments that Remus is sure has to be the longest span of silence in history, then—

“Hello.”

The voice is thin and slightly hoarse, quiet enough that Remus has to strain to make it out, but it’s as unmistakably real as the form that flickers into existence right in front of his eyes, identical to the man in the photo. He’s distinctly transparent, the edges of him not quite defined, fuzzing out around the edges like the ambient glow of neon signs, but he’s here and he’s real and this is so fucking cool that Remus could keel over right here and now from excitement and join the ghost in wandering around the house for all eternity.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, because if there was ever a time for swearing, by god this is fucking it, and the spirit withdraws slightly, already guarded expression closing in further. “No no no, it’s good,” he rushes to assure him, resisting the urge to reach out and try to touch him. “Good holy shit. Complimentary holy shit.”

The ghost doesn’t seem entirely appeased, but he tilts his head slightly, something like curiosity sparking in his eyes as he evaluates Remus.

“Why are you not frightened of me?” he finally asks, and Remus has to fight back the absurd laugh bubbling up in his chest. He’s being questioned by a century-old ghost in the middle of his haunted home. Life really was delightfully freaky.

“No offense, man, but you’re not exactly terrifying. I mean, I’ve been here what? A solid month? And you haven’t even tried to pluck my eyeballs out or anything.”

Another unreadable pause. Is he just giving the spirit ideas? Were his eyes about to be forcibly unmarried from his skull à la eagles tearing out Prometheus’ liver?

“Do you want me to be afraid of you?” he asks after a further absolutely unbearable five seconds of silence.

“No,” the ghost admits after a moment of clear hesitation, “but previous residents certainly have not appreciated my presence here.”

Remus scoffs. “That’s their problem. Some of us are smarter than that.”

The other man’s head tilt deepens, something akin to puzzlement furrowing his brow, as if he can’t fathom why having a ghost is actually the most badass shit on the face of the planet.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Remus asks, exhilaration still racing along the underside of his skin so intensely that he can barely stand it. “You can ask me whatever you want, too.”

The ghost nods, although he still seems cautious as one hand fiddles absently with his ascot. “I suppose that would be alright.”

Twenty questions with an undead spirit. Remus’ life really was getting better by the minute.

“Did you used to live here?”

“I did, many years ago.”

“Did you own the place?”

“At one point in time, yes. It was truly a beautiful house in its day, and a wonderful place to reside.”

Oh fuck yes. If having an old-timey ghost who can give him historically accurate advice about restoring the house isn’t the coolest fucking thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t sure what is. He has half a mind to start grilling him on paint colors and wallpaper prints and the original hardwood, but—

“Did you die here?”

The words are blurting out of his mouth without even bothering to detour through his brain on the way out, burning curiosity eclipsing any thought that perhaps asking about death isn’t exactly acceptable ghost etiquette. He barely has time to register the change in the spirit’s expression, the visceral upset written across his features clear as day, before he’s gone in between one breath and the next, vanishing back into whatever thin air he’d come from and leaving nothing but a biting chill in his wake.

Shit shit shit. He’s finally gotten the ghost to trust him enough to show up and talk and then he’s gone and ruined it within the span of two minutes all because he had all the self-control of a sieve trying to retain water.

“Wait,” he calls, casting about in vain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Well, apparently his subconscious had, but that hadn’t been his intention. “Please come back. You can ask me as many invasive questions as you like.” Nothing. “You can haunt me for revenge, if you want.” Utter silence. “Are you gonna hurl me off the balcony like my EMF meter?”

There he goes again, giving the specter ideas, although really, being yeeted out of a window by a ghost would be a damn cool end if he does say so himself. He lingers in the room for several long minutes, forcing himself to keep quiet lest he miss the spirit’s hushed voice, but there’s nothing but the faint sound of a bird twittering outside.

“Alright,” he finally relents, disappointment pooling in his stomach as he glances down at the photography plate still in his hand, the negative serving as indisputable evidence that the encounter hadn’t just been a fever dream. He’ll find a way to make things right with the ghost somehow, one way or another. He has to. “Just come spook me if you change your mind.”

-

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!): @darth-does-stuff

[littlerat2]

School Dances Suck... Most of the time. (Part 1)

Summary:

A highschool AU where everyone is struggling through Junior Year! When Janus is forced to go to a school dance, he usually just sits in the corner with Virgil and Remus. But this time, they have dates, and Janus doesn't. There will be multiple parts. I don't know how long this will be, but I've been thinking of expanding on everyone a little bit :)

Words: 1875

Warnings: None that I can think of for this one part, but please, please feel free to let me know if you think I should add some.

AO3

Author's Note: Apologies if there's any issues with spacing or formatting. It's my first time posting a fic on Tumblr, or, well, anywhere. I'm a tad new at this, but I'm sure I'll get the hang of it in time!

Janus sat alone in the corner of the gym. He hadn’t expected to be alone tonight.

Virgil was always his resident loner friend at school functions. Neither of them wanted to be there, but their parents always insisted. So the two always sat in the same spot and talked. And sometimes, Remus would keep them company too. But tonight, even Virgil had been dragged away to the dance floor by Roman. Remus had even managed to convince Logan to dance with him smack dab in the middle of the gym.

So Janus sat alone, counting the minutes until he could go home, and watching his friends dance.

Janus scrolled Tumblr on his phone for as long as he could before it got boring. When it eventually did, he returned to his spiteful watching of the crowd. But before too long, he heard someone sit down next to him. He turned to see Patton.

He’d only met Patton a handful of times. They sat next to each other in their AP Psychology class, but Janus didn’t talk to him much. Other than borrowing a pencil or charger was the extent of their interactions. But Janus had heard of Patton from others. He was friendly with everyone, very generous, and kind. Most people were at least acquaintances with him.

“Hey, Jan!” He beamed.

“Hello, Patton.” He turned to face him, adjusting his hat.

“I like your skirt!”

That’s right, he’d worn his new favorite outfit. If he was going to be forced to sit in a gym with a bunch of people he didn’t care to know, listening to shitty, outdated music, he was at least going to look good. He wore a brand new silk skirt that lapped at his ankles, with a simple black blouse, topped with a black shawl with yellow rimming, and a big, floppy black hat. And to top it all off, half of a masquerade mask over the aged burns on his face.

“Thank you,” he said, smoothing his hands over his skirt as he did. Patton nodded, smiling. “Why are you sitting alone?”

Janus scoffed. “Because Virgil and Remus abandoned me! “ He huffed. “Our parents make us come to every school dance, and we sit right here and hate it together. But this time, Virgil has a date.” He hissed the word ‘date’ like a curse. “And Remus managed to extort Logan for a dance too. So I’m here. Alone.”

“Oh, Jan… That doesn’t sound fun. But, aren’t you happy they’re enjoying themselves?”

“Obviously,” Janus snapped, regretting it immediately upon seeing Patton wince. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Patton said, incredibly patiently. Janus didn’t know how he managed.

“I'm glad they're happy. But I'm still here. Alone.”

“Well, you're not alone now.” Patton stood up, offering his hand with a smile. “What do you say? Treat me to a dance?” He asked hopefully. Janus looked at his hand for a moment, blinking.

“You? Dance with me?”

“You don’t have to,” Patton said, looking a little dejected.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just- won’t people look at you weird?”

“Why would they?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Janus motioned toward the singed side of his face. “I’m not really high on the social ladder here, Patton.”

“So?”

“You are.”

“And why would that matter?”

“I-”

“Just dance with me, Janus,” Patton said with a softness Janus had never heard from him. Patton’s voice was always gentle, but this was a different kind of gentleness that Janus couldn’t quite place. He couldn't say no to that.

He took Patton’s hand, and watched his face light up. Patton guided Janus to the middle of the gym, and started dancing with him. And god, he was terrible at it. He’d not only stepped on Janus’ toes, but someone else’s. He was a hazard. But it brought a smile to Janus’ face. He looked at Patton and held back a laugh, taking both of his hands. He led with the grace of a professional. Patton seemed surprised by this.

“What? Didn’t think I could dance?” Janus asked, a slightly amused smirk on his face.

“I- well, I didn’t think you’d be this good at it!” Patton admitted. “You said it yourself, you don’t like these dances.”

“Years of practice, darling.”

“Do you dance a lot?”

“Not by choice. My parents have had me in lessons since I could walk.” Janus rolled his eyes. He felt Patton hesitate. “This is the first time I’ve really enjoyed dancing.” He said, and Patton seemed to brighten at that. “Well, a real dance, anyway.”

“What do you mean, a real dance?”

“Well, sometimes Virgil, Remus, and I will dance in the rain, but it’s not like… a real dance. It’s more of… frolicking.” He looked down to see Patton smiling fondly.

“You three are close, huh?”

“Yeah. We grew up together. They’re… They’re like my family. More than my actual family, even. I mean, not my mom. She’s great.” Janus smiled softly. Why was he telling this to Patton of all people? He barely knew him. But something about the man was so easy to talk to. Like he’d listen for hours, no matter what you were talking about. Before he could treat himself to that rabbit hole, Patton’s voice lured him from his thoughts.

“Aw, that’s great! That’s kind of like Roman, Logan and I. What do you say we check on them?” Patton looked around, pointing to Logan and Remus, who had now migrated to the outskirts of the gym. Remus had Logan in an awkward looking hug, but Logan, surprisingly, was smiling, very wide. Remus seemed to be happy, so Janus was satisfied.

Next was Virgil and Roman. They weren’t hard to find at all. Roman usually commanded all of the attention in a room, and tonight was no exception with his red, sequin covered skirt. He stood by the DJ, whispering to them while Virgil stood off to the side. Then, a moment later, a Paramore song started blasting through the gym. Virgil’s face bloomed into a smile, and Roman pulled him close, dipped him dramatically, and said something to him. Whatever it was, it seemed to have flustered him, as his face turned beet red.

Janus burst out laughing, but his gaze was soft. “It’s been awhile since Virgil has looked at anyone like that. It’s nice to see him so happy again.”

“Same with Logan. Don’t tell him I said this, but he gushes about Remus all the time,” Patton giggled.

“Come to think of it, Remus has been talking about him a lot too.

They seem to understand each other… somehow.”

“Awww.”

“Even I don't understand Remus,” Janus said fondly. He didn’t know what possessed him to say what he was about to say. “I don’t really know Roman that well, but Logan seems cool. And you… I’d like to get to know you more. And the others. If, um, if you wouldn’t mind.” His head caught up with his words, and he cleared his throat, his face suddenly hot.

Patton smiled. “I think I’d really enjoy that.”

“Good,” Janus said, looking away awkwardly. “So, um, Remus, Virgil and I usually go to dinner after these kinds of things… Would you like to join us? You can bring Roman and Logan. I’d be happy to pay for all three of you.”

“That’s a lot of money, Janus,” Patton said, a bit of a guilty look on his face.

“Money is just an object. My parents and I are far from struggling. Really, I insist.”

“I don’t think Logan will let you pay for him.”

“He can suit himself. But I’m still paying for you.”

“I pay for half of it.”

“Deal.” Janus chuckled.

The Paramore song Roman had played for Virgil now faded into slow, soft music.

“Do you want to leave after this song? Remus doesn’t really like slow dances, and Virgil is usually tired of this many people by now. And, I think I usually see Logan reading in the corner by now.”

“Yeah. But I still have you for this song.” Patton gave him a look, and smiled. “I’m not great at this, but-”

“Not to worry! I can show you. Just follow my lead.” Janus felt himself smiling wider as Patton nodded, determination in his eyes. As Janus led, neither of them said a word. Patton was concentrating, mostly staring at their feet, trying to copy Janus’ movements. When he got a vague grasp of it, he looked up at Janus, smiling wide. Janus had a small, fond smile on his face, too.

Janus took Patton’s hand, spinning him around. He was a little flustered, but adjusted quickly, with a few bright giggles. Janus felt a few laughs bubble up in his stomach as well. He had this warm feeling in his chest, and his face hurt from smiling so much. What was this? Why did Patton have this effect on him?

Any other time, he’d back out right now. Leave, and never look Patton in the eyes again. He was already in too deep for his liking. He’d asked Patton to dinner for fucks sake! But if Virgil and Remus had found people they tolerated, why couldn’t he? Besides, after tonight, he didn’t expect many Patton-free days, even if he tried. And he wasn’t sure he wanted many Patton-free days, after all.

He felt at ease. His friends were happy, Patton was happy. And, he was happy. He would be content to sway with Patton all night. He closed his eyes, taking in the peace of it all.

Maybe getting close to Patton wouldn’t be so bad.

He hadn’t even noticed the song had ended, before Remus bumped into him, hard.

"Hey, Jan!”

“Hello.”

“So, what are our dinner plans tonight? I was hoping that maybe…”

“I already offered to bring Logan when I invited Patton.”

“Awesome!” Remus cheered, pumping his fists in the air. That earned a soft chuckle from Logan behind him. “Virgil asked if we could leave soon. It’s a little loud here for him.”

“Yeah, we’ll go in just a second. Could you go get him? Tell him to bring Roman too.”

“Are you feeling alright, Jan? You hate people.”

A laugh escaped Patton, but he quickly covered his mouth.

“I'm feeling particularly generous tonight, Re. It's been a rather nice night.” He smiled, his eyes flicking towards Patton for just a second, though he wished his gaze could linger on the other man.

Remus raised his brows at Janus with a smug look.

“Fuck off.” Janus shoved Remus lightly. “Go find Virgil! And take Specks here with you.” He flashed an apologetic look toward Logan, who waved it off, seemingly unbothered.

“Fiiiine. We'll meet at your car.” Remus scurried off, dragging Logan behind him by the arm with no warning.

Janus turned back to Patton, melting as he smiled.

“I think we should do this again,” Patton said, and Janus' chest felt warm again.

“My family hosts a spring masquerade every year. If you'd like to come, I'm sure my mom would be delighted to know I'm coming with someone this year.” “I'd like that.”

Janus decided to test his luck. “Then, it's a date.”

Patton went red, but he smiled. “I can't wait.”

[bennyyrabbit]

Logan headcanons because I can

Autistic

Red is an overwhelming color for him, mainly due to his brain associating it with Roman and Roman's often overwhelming personality

Number 2 is why he despises when Thomas wears red.

The red pen he used to use was only due to his brain applying Strict Teacher Rules to his annotations and edits to Roman's scripts, he was extremely glad to find that Roman despised the pen and wanted him to use a different one

He used to be much more apt to outbursts of a more positive kind, such as willingly giving more information than strictly needed because he enjoyed helping the others learn things

This changed due to repeated negative feedback that makes Logan feel as though he did nothing but make the others feel stupid (red pen, again, but slightly worse because it was more EVERYTHING he was doing, than just one thing)

He stopped wearing his onesie, even when alone in his room, due to fear of being summoned and ridiculed for his childish behavior

He is much harder on himself than he is on the others, despite their apparent belief that he is an arrogant cocky dick

He doesn't often pay attention to the lyrics in songs, rather the beat and instrumental, therefore his music taste is extremely wonky, consisting of any kind of instrumental that makes his brain feel happy, including extremely inappropriate songs and/or extremely childish ones, without him even realizing the context of the words (this is actually backed by his playlist)

There is something about the formula of country music that makes it extremely appealing to him and his pattern-seeking brain

This also applies to those thriller movies that follow the classic killer pattern with the survival rules.

Janus and Roman are two of Logan's least favorite sides

Roman is too overwhelming, and Janus is incredibly hard for him to understand due to him talking almost exclusively in lies

Patton is kind of in the middle, if he was to properly rank them. His overly feelingsy thing, and the wishy washy of morals and the confusing mixture of both makes it hard for them to work together, but he prefers Patton to Roman because he is less overwhelming and loud and otherwise overstimulating, and he doesn't have to worry about Patton speaking in lies, which puts him above Janus.

Remus is in second place, simply because Remus is slightly more tolerable than Patton, even though Logan cannot place WHY (it might be how blunt Remus is compared to how Patton likes to sugarcoat tings and/or hide the negative things)

Virgil is his favorite because they can have logical debates that, even when they get out of hand, will not overwhelm and overstimulate him, they have similar sensory issues, and he is simply the calmest of all the other sides

Logan despises his outbursts, regardless of what kind, and he refused to speak to any of the sides for a week after WTIT

Virgil was the first one to break through afterwards

Remus apologized for pushing him so far, but clarified that he wasn't actually sorry for DOING it, and more for how much it clearly affected Logan beyond the automatic reaction he had hoped for

Logan accepted this apology, because it was sincere, and he can understand Remus' point of view

He did get him back, however, by forcing him to sit through an entire 'lesson' on actual class etiquette.

This started a kind of 'battle' between them of putting each other through increasingly annoying things that one enjoyed and the other did not

Virgil caught Remus forcing Logan to wear a particular texture that extremely bothered his sensory stuff, as a part of this 'game' and proceeded to tear Remus a new one about abusing a fun little game that Virgil thought was a bad idea in the first place, and Can't you see that you've gone too far, this isn't funny anymore, he's genuinely distressed, get him out of that before I take YOUR nipples and shove them up YOUR nose.

Remus didn't actually care about the nipple thing, but he did get where Virgil was coming from, and got Logan out of that Horrific Sweater of that Horrific Texture, and apologized by letting Logan force him to wear an Actual Tie tied Properly for an Entire Day

The game has been on hiatus since because Virgil refuses to allow it to continue, despite Logan insisting that it's Quite Fine, Virgil, there is No Need for your Continued Vigilance, however Appreciated it is. (and it is VERY appreciated, Logan does not usually receive this kind of positive attention to make sure he is comfortable and stays that way)

Logan and Remus will sit and watch Those Movies Referenced In Number 11 together, and will each go on rants about how Stupid that Character is for going in That Room, or Up Those Stairs or something equally stereotypical and stupid

This never gets old, and Logan thinks he may do this until he ceases to exist however that may happen

They watched Trick (2019) together, and Logan spent an hour and a half ranting about how Fucking Amazing the movie was and how The End was So Good and Revolutionary and It's Such A Shame this movie Isn't More Popular because it's A Masterpiece

This is the moment Remus realizes he's in love with Logan

Remus says this seconds after realizing it, cutting Logan off mid-rant

Logan gapes at him for a minute, unsure how to respond, before (extremely apologetically) explaining that he does not feel those feelings for Remus, and that he doesn't want their difference in feelings to harm their friendship because Frankly he's Unsure how he would Continue Doing This (existing) without Remus there in some capacity

This makes their friendship extremely strained, and eventually, they stop spending time together.

Remus explains that this is because he can't Keep Doing This because he is constantly Not Saying Things he wants to say to Logan so that Logan doesn't think he's Actively Hitting On Him, and it makes Remus Physically Ill to not say his things out loud

Logan is unable to function properly for a week after this, and he doesn't really understand how he got This Attached to him.

Virgil talks some sense into him, and Logan has to then spend three months examining his feelings (ugh, feelings) for Remus, until he comes to the conclusion that he Is, In Fact, In Love With Remus

His immediate reaction is to go straight to Remus' room and tell him his feelings

Virgil tries to stop him and fails because Logan cannot think of one logical reason that Remus wouldn't at least hear him out, even if Remus' feelings have since disappeared, which Logan knows is something that happens, and is uncontrollable (if those feelings WERE controllable, he would never have them)

The second Logan says the words, "I'm in love with you", Remus kisses him without a seconds thought, because this is something he's wanted to do since Before he realized he was in love with Logan.

Logan's brain cuts out and overheats as if he is a literal computer, and it takes the literal snap of his neck (killing him) to properly reboot him so he can function.

Remus spent almost three hours trying to get Logan back to normal and almost has an anxiety attack thinking he's just caused the most catastrophic thing ever and somehow literally killed Thomas' Logic.

Virgil senses Remus' increasing anxiety, and is the one to suggest the neck snap. He says it as a joke, to lighten the mood to hopefully make Remus feel better, and Remus takes it as a genuine suggestion.

The first thing Logan does once rebooted, is kiss Remus back.

[anxiousgaypanicking]

The Fear Of Falling

Written For The Tss Storytime Big Bang, 2023 :) @tss-storytime

Logan is stoic, smart, and spending the summer before college with his grandparents, who’s traveling circus parks in their backyard for those months to rehearse new routines. While Logan is wary of the circus, and everything it encompasses, there’s a certain clown named Remus who goes out of his way to make him crack a smile. With just one summer, the two of them, and three months together, a lot is bound to happen.

Part One: Old Town Roads

Masterlist

The sound of a plane flying overhead makes Logan’s stomach churn; his knuckles turn white as he tight-fists the steering wheel. 

Being in a mostly rural area - with an airport about a half hour from the town he was heading towards - planes were a bit lower than normal, either as they took off from the airport, or prepared to land. 

He could have flown on one instead of driving the twelve hours straight through, but where would the fun in that be? Logan quite liked the dryness of his eyes paired with the cramping of his hands. An ache shot through his back; his posture had slipped somewhere between the fifth and sixth hours, but he persists despite the pain, not wanting to stop at some germ-ridden motel along the side of the road. 

Besides, a town was in view now. It had all been worth it. Sure, gas prices were rising and his mileage was going up, but he feels satisfied with himself. After all, multiple people - his parents, especially - repeatedly insisted that a plane would be easier, faster, and less stressful. 

Maybe for them. 

But as his hands had lingered over his computer keys, mouse hovering right over the purchase button of round-trip tickets, Logan couldn’t convince himself to push the button. And thus, driving was his only other option. 

Well, not only other option; he wasn’t obligated to visit his grandparents this summer, but it’d be a nice trip before college. Besides, he already spent the first few weeks of summer vacation at home! Doing little to nothing. He knew that once he was stuck in a dorm room where a frat party would take place in the building every other night, he’d miss the countryside. 

His car rolls down the road into a small town. A water tower stands proud in the distance, as minimal trees expose large plains and farmland; corn stands high, and beans hang low, and everything smells like dirt. 

Weirdly, it was wonderful. Logan forgets how dense and smoky the air in the city tastes. 

In the distance, further away from the majority of houses, was a large, domestic looking farmhouse. To the back of it was a small garden. Not big and extravagant as plenty of the other farms Logan had passed, just small and used for only the patrons of the house. But to the side of the building was the real eye-catcher; a sight Logan was unfortunately familiar with, and one that makes his gut twist upon seeing. 

Red and white fabric strung up to be miles above the ground, with three peaks, though the center one is the largest. It gives the illusion of a three-pointed tent, which is quite literally what it was. A big top. A circus tent. 

Logan swallows the spit in his mouth as he pulls his car up the gravel driveway to the front of the house, putting the vehicle into part, before shivering. 

He can’t bring himself to open the door right away. 

Breathe, he tells himself, setting a hand on his chest and feeling the rapid beating of his heart. You’re okay. You’re fine. Breathe. 

He sucks in a deep breath, fingers resting on the buttons to control the windows. Though he hesitates, he eventually rolls them up after a moment, and then takes a few minutes to fix his hair, which had been tussling with the wind. 

Then, he finally cracks the door open, and steps out. 

The air is clean, and a light breeze ruffles his clothes. The sun beats down on him - it’s nowhere near as hot as Florida, but it’s nice and warm, and makes Logan’s choice of a black turtleneck feel warranted. 

Grabbing his bags from the back - filled with his personal laptop and some clothes - he hops up the steps to the front door. Before he can knock however, it’s being swung open, the screen door in front of it being pushed immediately after and almost hitting Logan in the face. A plump, elderly woman with her hair tied back into a bun greets him. White streaks in her hair contrast with the dark black, and her blue eyes seem to shine as her arms stretch outwards, before closing around Logan tightly. 

“Mon bien-aimé!” she exclaims, affectionately. “You came to visit!” 

“I called Grandpa,” Logan says, stiffening at the firm hug. “I thought he would have told you I was on the way.” 

She leans in close to kiss the side of his cheek, but stops before her lips press against him, instead making the kissing noise about an inch and a half away. She then turns his face and does the same to the other cheek. 

“He did,” she states afterwards, smiling, “but I’m still excited. I haven’t seen my little Lo-corn in years!” 

“You would if you and Grandpa weren’t so busy traveling all the time.” Logan shoots a bitter look towards the circus tent, while Grandma looks towards it wistfully. “And my summers have been preoccupied with extra school and college applications.” 

“I suppose they have been, haven’t they,” Grandma utters, sympathetically. She then shakes her head slightly. “Your grandfather’s been very busy too. New routines need deciding and new acts need practice. It’s always work, work, work with him.” She leans forward to pinch Logan’s cheek, wiggling his head back and forth despite Logan’s scrunched up nose. “I suppose that’s where you get it from.” 

Logan pulls away from her, scoffing. “I guess technically, what we do is comparable, but what I do actually matters. A failing circus does not.” 

His grandma sighs through her nose, deflating a tad, but she doesn’t respond to Logan, instead just waving him inside. 

“Here. Come get your stuff unpacked. Hopefully by the time you're done, your grandpa will be done as well.” 

She closes the screen door behind him, but leaves the front door open, allowing a gentle breeze to drift through the house. Not a single light was flipped on, as the natural sunlight fluttering through the windows illuminated the area enough. Even as Logan follows Grandma up the stairs, he passes a row of windows all looking out towards the circus tent. 

His nose scrunches up again. 

He’s led to a scarcely decorated room with a closet, a dresser, and a nice bed with a soft blue comforter. It’s very home-y, but very barren. He tosses his bags on the bed, as Grandma smiles at him. 

“Feel free to come back down whenever you’re ready. I have some zucchini bread currently cooling on the windowsill. We got the wheat from the Vyuga’s - you remember the Vyuga’s, don’t you? Little Virgil has taken over manning the fields since his father passed. And the zucchinis are from our garden.” 

“That’s great, Grandma.” 

She sighs again, turning away partly as Logan doesn’t even look at her, focusing instead on unzipping his bag. He hears her footsteps softly patter down the stairs, which is when he finally glances over his shoulder, being met with the railing just outside of his door, and nothing more. 

He spends the next hour or so unpacking his few bags. He plugs his laptop in and sets it on the bedside table, and then hands his long-sleeved shirts in the closet. All of his pants, songs, underwear, and the few short sleeve shirts he brought are tucked into the empty drawers of the dresser. Each particular action fills him with a weird, heavy sense of nostalgia. He used to come every summer when he was little, but that eventually faded to being one or two summers in the past five years. Now, the idea of putting clothes in empty drawers reminds him of summers long past, where these drawers were also stocked with books, toys, and one or two stuffies that he sneakily hid so that he could sleep with them at night. 

Logan stares. Just clothes. 

He shuts the drawers, only filling two of them with stuff, while the other three remain empty. He then leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

Leaning over the banister, he sees his grandma within the open kitchen, grabbing the zucchini bread from the windowsill and setting it on the table, carving it into thin, even slices. Despite it being cooled off, Logan catches a whiff of cinnamon and butter. It makes his stomach rumble. 

He casually heads downstairs, and towards his grandma, who’s already tearing away a paper towel for him. She sets a piece of bread on it, and hands it to him, offering him a butter knife and a small tub of unlabeled butter. 

“Cinnamon and honey infused,” she says, smiling. “Got it from a neighbor in exchange for a couple pans of rhubarb pie.” 

Logan accepts it with a small “thanks,” as he spreads the butter over his slice. 

When he looks back up though, Grandma is sliding him another slice, already buttered. When he looks at her, confused, she merely smiles. 

“For your grandpa.” 

Logan frowns immediately. “I don’t want to go to the tent.” 

“It’ll be quick,” Grandma urges, wrapping the bread slice up neatly in the napkin. “Just go say hi and let him know you got here safe. Maybe you’ll urge him away from his work for a bit. You’d think that after traveling all the time he’d want to relax at home a bit, but he’d rather stay busy!” She laughs as if she just told a joke, but she doesn’t seem that happy. 

Logan takes both pieces of bread, and leaves the house. 

He takes a large bite of his as he walks out towards the tent, and has to admit it tastes delicious. With his parents always working and his constant flood of school work, they hardly have time to bake. And when they do, it’s from a store-bought box. Not home-grown ingredients. But there was a distinct difference between products found in a store and those grown in your backyard. Logan finds the freshness more appealing. 

Cold air rushes over him as he nears the tent, being overwhelmed by cliche circus music as he nears the drawn fabric flaps marking the entrance, concealing him from the acts taking place inside. 

His hand hesitates against the cloth. He doesn’t want to go inside; he’d rather go back to the house and wait for his grandpa there. But alas, his grandma entrusted him to deliver her zucchini bread, and it shouldn’t take too long. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he pulls back the fabric, and steps inside the tent. 

Immediately, his senses are assaulted from all angles. There are multi-coloured acrobats swinging from trapeze bars, dancers in flapper dresses and repurposed leotards kicking their feet. Dancers and singers; clowns and magicians. 

Logan was at least glad Grandpa strayed away from having a freak show; it was the one respectable thing he’s done. 

Speaking of his Grandpa, there he stands, dressed in a casual sweater and slacks, but holding his arms outstretched as he practices leading said circus. He holds a cane in his left hand; if Logan didn’t know he needed it, he’d assume it was all part of the act. As an esteemed ringmaster, Grandpa moves with emotion and histrionic characterization, leaning one way, waving his arms the other. And as he spins on his pedestal, Logan can see the corners of his lips stretched into a wide grin. 

But when he spots Logan, he stumbles. 

“Logan!” 

“Hi, Grandpa,” Logan greets, as his grandfather waves the circus to a halt. Performers buzz with excited, exhilarated laughter and words, a few of them waving towards Logan, while most head opposite of him, and out a different part of the tent, presumably to their quarters. 

A clown lingers, looking between Logan and his grandpa, before running to catch up with the others. 

Grandpa hops off his pedestal, and hobbles towards Logan, cane crunching against the ground as he moves. 

He stretches his arms out for a hug, but unlike Logan’s willingness - or, more accurately, tolerance - for his grandma’s affection, he steps back to prevent his grandfather from touching him. There’s a twinge of hurt that crosses Grandpa’s face, but otherwise his arms fall to his sides. 

“How was the ride? Did you fly?” Grandpa asks, making Logan tense. 

Logan stands, aloof, itching to leave the tent. “Of course I didn’t. I told you I’d be driving.” 

Grandpa sighs. “Right. I forgot.” He forces a smile afterwards, reaching a hand out to clap Logan on the shoulder, which Logan does allow. “I’m glad you’re here though, kid. It’s nice to see you before you become some high-and-mighty CEO.” 

Logan scoffs, shaking his grandpa off. “I’m not going to school for business.” He seems to have calmed down a bit though, as his grandpa makes his way out of the tent, Logan following after. “I’m going for science. Biology, specifically.” 

The moment they’re out of the tent, Logan relaxes further. He hands the wrapped bread to his grandpa, who smiles as he takes it. 

He unwraps it as he and Logan make their way back to the house. Taking a bite, he nudges Logan’s shoulder. “Biology, eh? Back when you used to travel with me, you’d love to run around and pull up plants. We went all over the country, after all. Seems like that stuck with you into adulthood.” 

Grandpa swallows a larger bite of his bread, as Logan dabs his face with the paper towel he was given in order to wipe away stray crumbs. 

“You’re always free to come travel with us again, you know-” 

“No.” Logan’s eyes narrow as they make their way up the stairs onto the front porch. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested.” He leaves no room for any attempted convincing, as he holds the door open for his grandfather, and then follows him inside. 

Grandma greets Grandpa with a kiss, and smiles dearly at Logan, urging them both to sit at the table as she pulls a casserole out of the oven. Still steaming, she sets it on the table, dipping a large spoon into it, and then passing out plates. Despite the warm feeling of a family dinner, there’s tension. 

Thick tension. One that hangs in the air as Logan and Grandpa avoid saying a word to each other for the rest of the dinner. 

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Logan hated his life.

In general, he didn’t really. He actually rather liked his life. He enjoyed his classes, he enjoyed being a Teaching Assistant- and he was damn good at it, too- and, though he would never actually admit it to any of their faces, he enjoyed the little group of friends that had more or less adopted him despite his general temperament being… well. Not exactly what most would call      friendly  

But in this moment specifically, Logan hated his life.

A number of unfortunate incidents had culminated to create this moment specifically. The first of which had been waking to the morning sun directly in his face. It was creeping in around the edges of the cheap paper blinds he kept on his east-facing window, and normally it was not a problem. Normally, Logan awoke to the sound of his phone alarm going off well before the sun had began its ascent. It wasn’t necessarily by choice, preferring to stay up late into the night whenever he could. He just had a 7AM class and a rather particular morning routine.

So when he awoke to the sun in his face, not only was it an unpleasant manner in which to be awoken, it also meant that he was late.  

Logan scrambled out of bed and reached for his phone, sat plugged in on his nightstand, as it should be. But all that greeted his press of the home button was a blank screen. Frowning, he jabbed at the button a second time. Same result.

Suspicious, Logan reached over and switched on his bedside lamp. Nothing.

 Fuck.

The realization that his apartment had lost power, likely early into the night if his phone was completely dead, also came with the realization that it was cold,   and Logan heavily considered just climbing back into his nest of warm blankets and pillows and calling it a day.

He couldn’t, of course, because Logan refused to miss class even on days where he was actually sick. So he hauled himself out of bed, and rushed through a truncated version of his morning routine. It was dissatisfying and left him feeling off-kilter. Like his entire rhythm of the day was thrown off by a bad start.

And then he got to the kitchen, and was hit by yet another awful realization. None of the appliances in his kitchen would work with no electricity. He had absolutely no means with which he could heat water for his tea.

 And that was the moment Logan decided he hated his life.

[continue on AO3]

[virgil-my-emo-son]

SIREN AU DESIGNS

I have been posting far too much about this au not to show you guys The Boys.

Really pushing my blond/curly haired sides agenda with these designs LMAO

But yeah these are their siren AU forms :D I'll hopefully be posting the fic soon, when finals are over and I have even the tiniest bit of time to write 😭

[naminethewriter]

What Dreams Are For - Masterpost

It is time for my biggest story yet, written for @sandersidesbigbang! Be prepared for a lot of confusion, angst and confrontations! Everyone has demons to face this time around and it's not going to be easy... I hope you follow along and enjoy what I cooked up this time 🤭

Summary: Dreams are weird. Especially when you’re metaphysical. There is a distinction between your own dreams and that of your whole. Even though Roman doesn't know at first that he's trapped in a dream, he does know that something is wrong upon waking in an unfamiliar room. He thinks he's in the Imagination but can't say for sure. Just what has he gotten caught up in?

Cast as the evil Prince and forced to act out the twisted storyline of Thomas’ dream, Roman, with help from Patton and Virgil, needs to figure out what is happening while constricted by what his hateful character would do and say which is not at all pleasant.

We dream for a reason. And as much as Roman likes to be the center of attention, this dream isn’t about him. Someone else is crying out for help.

Tags: platonic Dlampr, Intrulogical, Angst With a Happy Ending, Mystery Elements, Partial Mind Control, Sides are forced to stay in character which leads to some of them acting unsympathetically, mainly Patton and Roman

Story here on Ao3!

Chapter One: Wrong

Chapter Two: Rumors

Chapter Three: Unexpected Confrontation

Chapter Four: The Other Side

Chapter Five: Escalation

Chapter Six: Back To Normal?

This Story is currently on hiatus! I will return once more chapter have been written and are ready for posting.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Many thanks to my Betas @edupunkn00b and @starlocked01! You are wonderful 💙💚

Just as great are @failingatfailing and @wolfy-do-art-stuff who did a collaboration piece for this story that you can find here! It turned out superb, thank you so much 💖 💙 💜

[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.”

[sanderssidesthehouse]

Logan is feeling a bit rejected and dejected, but he finds company in a similarly discouraged side. Rated T for Remus.

Patton was sweet. Virgil was sour. Janus was salty. Roman was umami. Remus was oleogustus. And Logan. Logan found that he was bitter. Bitter was most well known to animals as the taste of yuck don't eat that or you'll die. Animals are naturally inclined to prefer sweet and salt. Umami and oleogustus were a big part of many cultures, though they weren't for everyone. Many folks enjoy sour. But bitter. No one likes bitter. Only the rare fool with no inkling of self preservation. That's the way Logan saw it. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there was one such fool.

"Logie! Lolo! Where are you hiding?!" Remus burst into the common area. "I'm right here, Remus." Logan responded from the couch. "Ah! Look what I made!"

Logan looked up from the book he was reading. Remus had a small, round, likely amphibian creature in his hands which was being thrust very close to Logan’s face. Once he was able to focus on what was in front of him, he found it was actually kind of-

"Skreeeeeeeeee!!!" The creature let out an ear splitting screech. "It's rather loud." "That's what I was going for! Since you told me about how the vibrations work in bigger and smaller instruments I wanted to see how high pitched I could get a creature to be." Despite himself Logan smiled fondly with a slight blush. "I'm happy I could be of some service." "These get real big too. The adults have screams so low pitched you'll pee yourself." They heard footsteps come down the stairs. "What the hell was that?!" Virgil stopped to yell at them as soon as they were in view. "Joy was just saying hi to her new friend." "Ugh. What is that thing? Put it back where it came from, or better yet, put it through a blender. It would be less obnoxious that way." "Now, Virgil, that's not very nice. Why don't you go lay down and I'll get you some water," Patton implored, having come out of the kitchen when he heard yelling. "Yeah, ok." Virgil turned himself around and went back up to presumably his room. "He has a headache," Patton explained. "Maybe you two should go somewhere else." Logan, noticing the hurt Remus was desperately trying to cover, decided to speak up. "Why don't you take me to meet Joy's mom?" Remus lit up. "Ok!" He grabbed Logan's hand and all but dragged him to his side of the imagination. It had more monsters and dangerous creatures, but Logan still felt safer there than anywhere else. Remus's creations would never hurt him, unlike some of the other creatures around the mindscape. Maybe that was a bit harsh, though. They hadn't meant to after all, right? On their way Remus unsurprisingly got distracted. “Oh these are Joy's favorite here, try one.” “And I won’t die from this?” Logan took a fruit from Remus’s hand. “Joy didn’t.” “Right, well, ‘cheers to that’ I suppose… They’re… interesting.” Interesting being code for what did I just put in my mouth because it was not good. “I thought so- Oh! Do you feel that?” The ground and trees around them shook, just enough to be noticed. “Is that an earthquake?” “Nope! That’s Momma. Let’s go!” And go they did. Remus was correct in stating that the creatures got rather large, but he had neglected to mention that large meant a sphere as tall as a six story building. Joy did a happy roll and screeched. Remus snapped before Momma replied and placed earplugs in both of their ears. Their whole bodies and everything else around them trembled.

“Fascinating.” “What?!” “Nothing!” “What?!”

Logan just shook his head.

Remus set Joy down and they watched as she hopped closer to her mother. They seemed to greet each other with their cries. Remus tried to speak to Logan again, but that clearly wasn’t going to work, so he led Logan far enough away that while they could still hear his newest creations, they could also easily hear each other without getting a headache. Because if Logan got a headache, he would have to leave.

“So what do you think?!” “They are quite fascinating. Joy eats berries, but what does her mother eat?” “The giant wasps.” “The giant wasps?” Logan blinked. “Oh, yeah. Super venomous. They really needed a predator to keep their numbers down.” “Well one that grows to be that large is a good choice, I think. Due to its size and diet, it is likely to keep its own population in check through environmental stressors such as competing for food and how it spends its energy. I believe it would fill a niche similar to a whale in the ocean. The vibrations it creates are likely helpful for disabling prey, though I’m sure particularly determined giant wasps could get through to a still large but smaller specimen in a relationship similar to mongoose and cobras. Though I have to wonder what the young get out of eating berries. It doesn’t seem like it makes sense for the amount of energy they need to grow so big.” “Ah, I see what you mean. These berries aren’t normal berries!” Remus grinned at him in a way that made him think maybe he really shouldn’t have tried one. “They’re made of flesh!” “Huh.” Logan gagged a bit, eye twitching. “That’s very… interesting.” “You said.” “With as realistic as some of your creations are, I tend to forget that creativity need not be bound by the rules of Thomas’s world.” “Mm. I think the realistic stuff can be more fun, but meat berries are a classic for horror!”

A classic, huh? Logan was pretty sure that wasn’t exactly the case, but having things that normally weren’t made of flesh be made out of it did tend to be a somewhat common occurrence, usually to symbolize one thing or another, so maybe it was somewhat the case.

“But I think Thomas and the others might actually appreciate this one. Since it’s cute and all,” Remus admitted. “At the very least I appreciate it. Virgil probably would have thought it was funny if he didn’t have a headache.” “You don’t have to do that, Logan.” “Do what?” “Pretend like the others care about the things I make. I know they’d all prefer if I would just… disappear. Maybe not Janus, but I do tend to make things difficult for him.”

For Remus to actually be saying something, it must really be bothering him. While he did usually spout any and every thought that came into his head, he usually refused to show weakness. Not that wanting to be accepted or appreciated and feeling bad when you weren’t made you weak.

“Regardless of whether or not they want you to disappear, which I would argue they don’t, you can’t. You are essential to Thomas. We all are. Even if our contributions aren’t always appreciated.” “Our contributions?” “Ah, I misspoke. I meant your contributions, of course.” “Yeah, I’m not buying it. You can’t get out of your Freudian slip that easily.” “Freud was a hack.” “Gee, Logan, tell me how you really feel. But you should know by now I already know how you feel. They never pay attention to you, do they?” “Whether or not any of you do, is irrelevant. It is only important that Thomas heeds my advice.” “Any of us?” “Any of you.” “Logan, I am sorry about that.” “What?” “When I kept trying to shut you up. I was afraid that if you helped Thomas out of it too quickly, I wouldn’t make an impact. And I didn’t want to go back to being shoved away in a box like a kitten on the side of the road when it’s raining, doomed to death by starvation, illness, or a rogue Prius.” “Ah, um, ahem, well… Apology accepted. And for the record, I wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. It’s high time Thomas stop repressing parts of himself. It’s unhealthy.” “Of course… For Thomas…” The duke fell quiet and turned to face away from Logan. “That is how I felt then. Now that we’ve spent more time together…” Remus looked back, hopeful. “I have come to appreciate your company and enjoy the thought exercises you present me with. If I didn’t want you around I would hardly go out of my way to spend time with you.” “For the record, I enjoy spending time with you as well. And not because you’re the only one who will entertain my deranged ideas, though that helps. You make me want to be smart, too. And feel like I can. I could learn so much about real world accurate zombies or mutants or zombie mutants that tear your face clean off like a pet monkey, or I can learn how to create a creature that oozes acidic slime strong enough to melt bones!” “You could have done that before.” “But I didn’t think I could, and with creativity, that’s half the battle.” “Janus never encouraged you?” “Not like this. In his own way, sure, but not like this.” “I’m glad, then, that I could do this for you.” “You’re worth more than what you can do for others, you know.” “What? I don’t- I mean our literal functions are-” “What would you say to Virgil or Patton or Roman, hmm? That they are only as valuable as the services they can provide everyone else?” “Of course not, I… I see your point.” “You can if you want to.” “What?” “What?” … Probably an innuendo and he didn’t want to know. “Thank you for… comforting? Erm, correcting me.” “I can comfort you anytime, and if you wanted to comfort me, you could start by taking off your shirt.” “I’m not doing that.” “The tie can stay on! In fact-” “Not happening.” “Awww. Fine, but can you come help me with my ooze monster? I was serious about that.” “I’d be delighted to.”