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minniethemoocherda · 2 months

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Just A Friend To You

A/N: Thank you so much to @pkmndaisuki for agreeing to be my beta reader for this fic! I never would have spotted any of my spelling mistakes otherwise lol! Please go check out their amazing X-men art! I hope you guys enjoy the fic! I know I don't post that frequently but I am trying my best to help keep this ship afloat! Xxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

From across the diner, Morph watched as Jubilee and Roberto inched ever closer to one another, neither of them quite yet taking to leap to touch.

Ah, the perils of young love, Morph thought. Although it wasn't as if the perils of love stopped once you became an adult. Something that they knew all too well as they turned their attention to the man sitting opposite them.

When Logan had learnt that the two teens were going on a date, he had demanded that he chaperone them. After many protests, Jubilee had agreed, on the condition that Morph also came along to make sure Logan didn't stab anyone, namely Roberto.

Which was how Morph came to find themselves that Saturday afternoon, watching a date, whilst on a not-date with the man they were in love with.

Most times when they and Logan were hanging out they would be roughhousing, or watching TV, or playing basketball. But here there was nothing to do but just enjoy each other's company. It was nice.

Morph wore their usual human form but with dark jeans and a pink crop top that they may or may not have borrowed from Gambit's wardrobe.

Wolverine was reluctantly wearing a buttoned shirt, because Jubilee had demanded that if he insisted on stalking them then he should at least look presentable. Morph was pretty sure that Logan had stolen his shirt too, probably from Scott, especially given that it was at least three sizes too small for him. He'd had to roll up the sleeves to hide how short they were and left the two buttons undone as it wasn't wide enough to fit across the expanse of his chest. Not that Morph was complaining about the view.

Nor were they complaining about the sweet potato fries that came with their burger.

"You should try one of these," Morph told him as they dipped one of those said sweet potato fries in ketchup.

The next second, Logan leant over the table and bit the one that Morph had been holding between their fingers. Which under different circumstances could have been romantic, but instead reminded Morph of when their old family dog would steal scraps of food from the table.

"I didn't mean that one you animal!" Morph cried, throwing a fry at his face.

But Logan bit that one too, catching it in his mouth, which then spread into a wide grin. With the ketchup dripping from his teeth onto his white shirt, he really did look like an animal.

In retaliation, Morph stole one of his onion rings which Logan protested with a "Hey!" But didn't otherwise complain.

Of course, that was when Roberto finally got the courage to make a move and draped his arm over Jubilee's shoulder.

Morph heard the familiar snikt of Logan drawing his claws from under the table.

"Calm down Wolvie." Morph said, reaching under the table to wrap their hand around his wrist. "I doubt he's gonna try to jump her in the middle of a diner. And even if he did, Jubilee can handle herself."

"She sure can." Logan said, his snarl turning into a proud smirk as he put his claws away.

Now, Logan might say that he didn't like kids, but Morph had seen how he interacted with them.

He always gave into Jubilee's demands to go shopping, or play video games with her, no matter how much he said he wouldn't. And when the teenager needed a non-judgmental shoulder to cry on, he was always there.

Morph knew Logan didn't want kids of his own, and in their line of work they couldn't really blame him. But still, they couldn't help but think it was a shame. He really would make a good father.

It was just one of the many reasons why they loved him.

Suddenly the waitress appeared next to their table and Morph realised that they were still holding Logan's wrist. They quickly retreated it back.

Thankfully, the waitress appeared not to notice, too busy trying to balance an overstuffed bowl of ice cream, sauce and sprinkles in her hand that she placed on their table.

"We didn't order that, lady," Logan told her.

"I know. The girl over there did," the waitress replied, pointing over to Jubilee where a similar looking desert was placed upon her table. When Jubilee caught them looking her way, she waved a cheeky grin and Robert just looked confused.

By the time Morph looked back, the waitress was gone and Logan was digging a scoop out of the ice cream.

"What?" Logan shrugged, shoving the spoonful into his mouth. "I ain't gonna waste free food."

Melted ice cream dripped down Wolverine's chin adding to the collection of stains on that poor shirt, and Morph took a scoop themselves to try to distract themselves from that train of thought.

They had to admit that the dessert was pretty good, not too creamy yet not too solid with a perfect balance of ice cream and toppings.

Logan must have thought so too because as he licked his spoon he let out a low rumbling moan. Morph knew that in this form, they had to have been blushing at pink as their t-shirt. Not even Logan dipping one of the left over fries in to it could lessen their blush, so they did their best to hide it by ducking behind the large bowl as they ate the remainder of the monster of a dessert.

But try as they might, Morph couldn't distract themselves from the thoughts in their head. Logan had to know how this looked right? The pair of them, sharing a dessert. Morph swore they had already seen some of the other diner patrons giving them funny looks. Maybe Logan didn't care? Or maybe he wasn't as hyper-aware about appearances as Morph was?

At least their internal breakdown didn't last for too long, thanks to Logan's never ending appetite.

Morph glanced over at Jubilee's table to see that they had finished too.

Now all that was left was to pay the bill.

"I'll get it." Logan said, grabbing some bills from his trouser pockets. "I'm the one who dragged you into comin' with me."

"Wow, a burger, some frees and a free dessert. You really know how to treat a girl." Morph teased, as if the idea of Logan ever treating them to a real date would be a complete joke.

"Fine." Logan snorted, handing the money over to the waitress. "Next time I'll persuade that Roberto kid to take Jubilee some place fancier."

Next time? Morph felt their stomach somersault.

"Well, if you insist on taking me somewhere fancier then we will have to get you a new shirt," they said, pointing to where a third button had now snapped free. They tried to hide the fact that they felt left like they were about to puke up their own gloop.

"Why? You not likin' the view?" Logan said through a smug smirk.

"I like not getting kicked of restaurants more."

"So you do like it," Logan stated, that smirk turning predatory.

Wait, was Logan actually flirting with them? No, of course not. That could not be happening. This was just their usual banter. Right? Morph must have gotten so caught up in how the pair looked that their brain must have tricked itself into believing that Logan was flirting with them. Yes, that's what must have happened.

Of course that was when Jubilee decided to interrupt.

"I thought I told you to wear something decent!" She cried, grabbing Logan's leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of his chair and throwing it over the exposed expanse of his chest.

"I wore a shirt didn't I?" Logan protested, shrugging the jacket on properly. "Besides, Morph said they liked it."

Jubilee turned her accusatory glare towards them.

"Okay first of all, I never said that. Also I was the one who told Logan that shredding his only shirt wouldn't get him out if wearing one in the future so this-" Morph waved their hands in Logan's general direction. "Is not my fault."

Jubilee stared up at the ceiling but she was unable to stay annoyed for too long as Roberto placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and when her gaze once again found his and a smile once again graced her face.

"Whatever. Me and Roberto were going to go to arcade if you two insist on stalking us."

Morph glanced towards Logan and was surprised too see him shaking his head.

"Nah, you kids go ahead. We got our own plans."

Jubilee looked between them, a suspicious smile on her face that had Morph's stomach churning. But for once she chose to keep her mouth shut simply waving them both goodbye.

"You kids have fun!" Morph called after them.

"But not too much fun." Logan grinned making Roberto's brown skin pale as the teens headed for the door.

Despite their teasing, Morph truly was happy for Jubilee. Robert was a good kid. They were good for each other. Roberto helped to keep her grounded whilst she showed him the light around them.

Morph watched as Roberto reached out his hand and Jubilee didn't hesitate to take it in her own. Morph knew that it wasn't easy for the pair of them easier. As an Afro-Brazilian and Asian-American couple, they too drew their own fair share of less than happy looks. But the two teens ignored the stares, only having eyes for each other.

"Not that I'm complaining about getting out of babysitting duty," Morph said getting up from the table. "But I wasn't aware that we had any plans."

"We're going bowlin'." Logan stated, getting up himself, when he suddenly refused to meet their eyes. "If you want. 'Cus we still haven't been since- I mean we ain't been in a while."

Morph chose to believe that Logan's uncharacteristic fluster was because he had reminded them of how they still hadn't gotten the chance to go bowling together since they'd been freed of Sinister's control, and not the fact that he'd accidently made it sound like he was asking them out on a date.

"I'd love too." Morph quickly covered up the sincerity with a joke. "As long as you promise not to act all stabby when I beat you."

Logan snorted.

"As long as you promise not to act all bratty when I win."

"No promises."

As the two of them left, Morph couldn't help but glance down at Logan's hand as it swayed between them. They hoped that one day, they would have the courage to take his hand too.

#morpherine #x men 97 #wolverine #logan #x men #morph #morph x men #morph xmen #kevin sydney #jubilee #jubilation lee #roberto de costa #sunspot #james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan x morph #morph x wolverine #juberto #marvel

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doomstypewriter · 3 years

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The submersion | Intrulogical Mermaid AU

Future intrulogical.

Follow up on this animatic. | AO3

Words: 1728.

Summary: Remus has fun in his submarine. A giant barracuda disagrees.

CW: Dark humour, skeletal remains of a rat, drowning, deep ocean (if there's anything else do tell), death, sexual innuendo.

The submersion

It was cloudy.

And cold.

But that was to be expected when one’s in the middle of the Atlantic.

“Remus Prince, you dunce, how are you dressed like that?”

Remus turned around to see Ella Da Villa, the captain of the ship he was on, and an old friend. Her short afro was stuffed inside of a beanie, she held onto her sides through her huge puffer coat.

“I know you’d just rather I take it all off, but, honey, I need to at least wear something”.

She laughed.

“What you need is to make sure you don’t get drenched or--”

“First of all, I look amazing all wet. But if that’s what you’re so worried about, hey, I took care of that” he answered pointing at his green rain boots.

The crew looked at them in amusement as they moved the equipment, preparing everything for the submersion.

Ella took off one of her gloves and smacked Remus’ head with it.

“Ow! I thought you were against violence!”

“I never said that. But I am against animal abuse, that’s why I didn’t hit you hard. Now go and put on a coat, you dumbass”.

“Sure thing mommy, you know how to be commanding” he winked.

“It’s captain for you, now go!”

His boots squeaked against the flooring of the deck as he ran to get into the guts of the ship. He managed to hear Ella swearing under her breath.

“How did he even graduate? Going out in short sleeves…”

Ella was a funny one, Remus thought. It was easy to get under her skin, she also liked to play along which made it even better.

One of the people going up the metal stairs almost tripped against him, there wasn’t that much room, after all. Remus jumped over the railing and fell onto the lower level without a scratch.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?!” said someone.

A younger guy with spectacular hair held onto his forearm to check on him. Oh, this was the newbie.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have any lungs”.

“Wha…” he looked half perplexed and half horrified.

“You know, we all get it done since we’re going to end up sleeping with the fish anyway”.

He stood up quickly and mutely apologised. Remus enjoyed the view of his ass going upstairs as fast as possible. New meat was always hilarious.

When he entered the room his cupboard was already open. He liked to leave the sliding doors that way so he could see what was inside, otherwise, he’d forget about it. In a ship, that meant ending up with all of one’s clothes on the floor, but as long as Remus could see where they were he wouldn’t misplace anything. Object permanence was a bitch.

Messy floors did have an advantage, the coat on top of the pile was good enough to satisfy Ella and easy enough to grab quickly.

The backswing of the glove against his shoulder caught him off-guard.

“Ow! What did I do now?! This coat is fine!”

“The coat is fine, yes, but the new guy is shaking like a leaf. What did you tell him? He keeps saying stuff about drowning”.

“Hey, I’d never mention drowning when I’m about to get into a submarine”.

“Yes, that’d be very poor taste, sadly, you have it worse so you must have said something terrible. I expect you to fix this, or we’ll have to arrange you drowning”.

“You know I love choking on wet things”.

“Then your last moments will be pleasant. Consider me the best friend one could have”.

The new guy was holding onto the railing of the ship, staring at the water in concentration. Probably about to throw up or something.

“Hey!”

“Ah!” he screamed.

“Do you have a name?”

“Uh… yes… um…”

“Great! I have one too, it’s Remus” he introduced himself with half a bow.

“I’m Nathan… sorry… I’m just anxious… it’s the first time I go on one of those” he gestured at the submersible held by the crane of the ship.

“First times are always awkward, don’t worry”.

Finally, Nathan let out a laugh, it was a nervous one but it would suffice.

“You know what I said earlier was a joke, right?”

“Oh, yeah, it just caught me by surprise. You’re the head biologist here, right?”

“Yup. Guess you could say I’m the dom of this study”.

“Darn it, here I was expecting to be more active”.

Remus smiled in surprise. It was always nice when people had similar humour to his.

“Oh, you’ll have to be. I expect it”.

“You wouldn’t expect we could go for some coffee after we get into…” the date proposition vanished into a look of fear at the submersible.

Remus put a hand over his shoulders. The drowning jokes would have to wait until they were emerging.

“Don’t worry, my thicc ass has been there tons of times! It’s just a lot of water”.

“While it’s true he’s been there more than you, he’s overplaying his own ass. It’s kind of droopy” a heavily accented voice said

“Who are you calling droopy?”

They turned to see a tall blond woman smiling smugly. Erika Engström, oceanographer and the operator of the submersible.

“You, obviously, do you have water in your ears?”

“Not yet, but we’ll see if…”

Nathan held his breath.

“Nah, I don’t”.

“He either thinks you’re cute or he’s afraid the captain will throw him off-board if he keeps bullying you”, Erika told Nathan.

“I wasn’t bullying anyone”.

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re always bullying people, you don’t know how else to flirt”.

“Then I would be flirting with everyone”.

“Aren’t you?”

“Okay, yeah”.

“Come on, I have to set up things. Give me a hand, rat skull”.

“At least give me a knife or something”.

“You can chew it through”.

One last look at Nathan before following her.

“Well, I’ll leave you to stress out, if I don’t help her we’ll dro…” oh right, no drowning jokes. “We’ll…”

“Flirt with me when we’re back at the surface”.

Remus smiled.

“Will do!”

-----

The light was beginning to fade out. The flickering of the few rays coming through a swirl of silvery fish would be their last glimpses at natural lighting for a while.

It was wonderful.

How the underwater landscape changed, morphing into something out of a nightmare. Never ceases to amaze him. People would say it was all just blue getting darker and darker, and it was! But it was also a thick fog from which anything could come out. He always looked forward to seeing the weirdest fish appear.

There wasn’t much room behind the giant acrylic viewport. Despite being stuck so closely together, Remus could feel a chill as the air within got cooled by the deep water. His coat lay forgotten at the back of his chair still.

Once the lights of the submersible switched on, a delicate dance of white dust shined just like it would on a sunny day. This was no room dust. But there was just as much beauty in seeing the marine snow surrounding them. Teensy tiny pieces of dead fish falling all around, making the nicest shapes.

“It’s so quiet” Nathan observed.

“Wait until you hear a whale. The first time I did I thought my skull would pop”.

“Which one?” Erika kept her eyes on the water, but he could see the reflection of a smile curving onto the surface of the acrylic.

“Well, the small one. I know you’d hate to have to scrape my brains off your console”.

“If you had any I would”.

“There would still be plenty of blood”.

The ship carried on with the descend, soon, they’d be at twenty thousand feet. Nathan leaned in.

“Hey, what did she mean by which one?” he said in a hushed voice.

“Oh! Right”

He pulled on the string of his necklace to get it from under his shirt. Remus held it in front of Nathan’s face.

It turned, revealing the empty sockets and the front of what used to be a snout.

“I have this rat skull as a necklace! Erika teases me because that’s how she copes with the fact that she hates it!”

“Anyone would hate it. You wear that thing everywhere. It’s creepy” Erika pointed out.

“Where did you get it?” Nathan asked.

In the dim light, Remus’s smile cast shadows, giving him a grim vibe.

“I used to have a pet rat. When it died it sucked, my brother and I buried it in the backyard. It was there until three years later when we got a heavy storm. The bones peeked through the mud. So I just yanked a bit on the spine and got it. The skull was already defleshed anyway, so, aside from cleaning it a bit, I didn’t have to do any of the work. I really like this necklace. I got into marine biology because I began looking at fish skulls and I wanted to see more”.

“That’s…” Nathan began to say.

Suddenly, the submersible turned violently.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, I couldn’t take a good look”, said Erika.

Her frown told Remus something was seriously wrong.

“Guys, we’re picking up really weird signals from here. Are you all okay?” the sound of Ella’s voice through the radio distracted him from his train of thought.

“It’s all under control, but I am going to begin ascending” Erika replied.

“We haven’t taken all the samples”, Nathan said.

“We’ll have another chance. Right now I’m worried that---”

Erika did not have time to finish talking.

Its needle-like teeth loomed over the viewport. This creature was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Part of him felt excited at how terrifying it all was. Sadly, he had the feeling they were all about to die. This fish looked like a giant barracuda and an angry one.

The creature snapped its jaw closed, cracking the viewport.

Seemingly, it didn’t find it tasty enough and it swam away even moodier than before. The very least it could have done was eat them.

If you’re going to kill them might as well finish the job.

Remus’ body floated into the dark abyss as he struggled to breathe. Covering his ears tightly, he screamed in pain. The pressure was unlike anything.

Well, it had been fun.

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The continuation will feature Logan and another animatic!

Taglist: @lemonyscented , @emsiemaefander , @sunflower-avo-tea , @nadiestar , @amber-da-toon , @gabseliblack , @everythingisstardust

@trash-bastard , @under-the-blue-moonlight , @willowaudreykeyes

@queerly-a-hisssstory-momster

@theyluna-womoon , @subterfugespecialist

#intrulogical #remus sanders #ts remus #sanders sides #remus centric #mermaid au #sanders sides fanfiction #doomstypewriter #doomywrites

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

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I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Nine (finale!!)

Ao3, Masterpost, C.1 C.2 C.3 C.4 C.5 C.6 C.7 C.8

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, background platonic dlampr

I did it!!! I fucking did it!!! It’s been done!!! The end!!

Warnings: cursing, food mention, (brief) alcohol mention, kissing, relationship negotiations, cuddling, So Much Sap.

Word count: 4,147

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well.

Patton repeated that sentence to himself like a mantra, a water-filled mason jar clutched between his hands as he leaned against the kitchen bar.

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well.

Months and months went by without anyone having any sort of falling out, aside from petty arguments and occasional disagreements. Patton was attending each meeting, Remus right beside him. Life went on without a hitch.

Patton tried not to give Remus all the credit for everything good that had been happening. Logan, he knew, was working very hard to better himself and be more open. Janus was acclimating to his new surroundings more every day, and tentatively building new relationships while fixing up the old ones. Roman had been trying so hard, okay, and everyone could see the ways he hesitated less and less each time he went to speak. That’s not to speak of Virgil, who’d managed to slot his past and his present together into one big future, and not without considerable effort.

Patton could laud them all for that, for the peace that fell over the Mindpalace, but…

Part of him knew he never would’ve noticed that peace if he was still locked in turmoil with himself. And all of him knew exactly who it was that pulled him out of that hole.

Which isn’t to say it wasn’t an equal thing. He learned that a while in, that he was picking up Remus’ slack as much as Remus was picking up his. They functioned together, complimentary.

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well. The aching etched across Patton’s skin had faded, the ice solidified over his skeleton had thawed, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.

Everything in Patton’s Mindpalace was going well.

Morality grinned against the edge of his drink, fighting the urge to laugh. He wasn’t even drinking anything, and still there was this giddiness. But that was how he always got at parties, and why he preferred to not drink alcohol anyway- he didn’t need to get any more jelly-brained!

Even if ‘party’ was a generous word for the gathering: It was just a family meeting gone awry, to be honest. No one had been in a working mood, not even Logan, and it was late in the evening already and the food was already there and. Well. Things morphed from there.

Remus was almost entirely glued to Patton’s side, despite how obviously he buzzed with energy. The simple fact that there was music, and food, and everyone enjoying themselves seemed to turn him up to 100- or, 110, since he usually operated with a staggering amount of energy either way.

But it was nice, hearing him talk, watching him flicker around excitedly. Patton, as was the case more and more these days, could hardly keep his eyes off him.

It wasn’t exactly like that was a problem. He doubted that a single side wasn’t aware of how completely and utterly entangled the both of them were with each other by that point, even if some of them still found it strange. They were… surprisingly supportive, of whatever kind of relationship the two of them had formed.

Friends, Patton reminded himself sternly, what else would it be? Patton had never wanted to date anyone, after all, and this wasn’t exactly an exception. It was just…

Strange. It was strange, but so was Remus- and honestly, so was Patton- so maybe it made more sense that way.

But just the same, things were smooth, and for once Patton wasn’t feeling too neurotic about it. He was half-sitting on the bar comfortably, swinging his leg, not chatting too much out of calmness more than anything. Remus was cross-legged on the counter as well, pressed up against him, buzzing and fidgeting but otherwise relaxed. Virgil leaned against the bookshelf crosswise, talking quietly with Remus. He only looked a little overwhelmed, and that was really unavoidable in any situation (Patton knew that if things were actually too much for him, Logan would already be taking care of it- it was like he had a sixth sense for that sort of thing).

“-and anyway,” Virgil was saying, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, but I’m not about to tell Roman that, because-”

“You have to see his reaction!” Remus interrupted, grinning mischievously.

“Right, duh- you can’t just, like, pass up an opportunity to show somebody that.”

“Misery loves company!”

“And that movie is miserable,” Virgil nodded to himself, and okay, Patton had no idea what they were talking about.

He smiled at them anyway, though, because it was probably something to do with horror. Remus and Virgil could talk about horror for hours; it was a wonder there was ever a time they didn’t get along, honestly.

But Patton knew that his brain was rolling around everywhere except for the present- and he always got all reminiscent and unfocused when he was this happy- so he shook himself, standing up.

“I’m gonna check the oven, the food’s probably done by now!” and then, just to Remus: “I’ll be just a second, Mess.”

Remus smiled at him, let him go, and barely took a breath before he was talking again. (“So what’d he think? Did he scream at the end? That ending, I mean…”)

Patton slipped into the kitchen- which was barely another room, considering that wide open wall- but it was just a little quieter and a lot more pizza-roll-smelling than the living room.

Which Patton did actually have to take out of the oven, but it just so happened that getting up and moving around also got his head out of the clouds. That, and the mindless actions of snack-prep let him tune in better to what was going on around him. (“That’s the thing, he went dead quiet as soon as the scene started. For a second I thought I broke him-” and then Remus was laughing, and Virgil was shushing him while also snickering.)

Patton slipped on an oven mitt, grabbed the tray, set it on top of the stove. More noise erupted behind him, (Logan and Roman arguing about something that obviously didn’t matter, getting about as heated as they usually did.) and he shook his head, pouring the snacks steadily into a dish. Patton then grabbed the bag and spread some uncooked rolls out on the now-unoccupied pan, and slipped it back into the oven for another batch. (Janus heckling the argument. Virgil joining in, needling them.)

Patton rolled his eyes fondly, going through the motions of getting some tea ready. Might as well try to calm the dizzy exuberance in his chest while he was up, if he could, and some nice chamomile wouldn’t hurt.

(Remus wasn’t audibly teasing his brother with his snark-fueled companions, which was unlike him; to just sit there quietly.)

Patton rifled through the cabinets. Every mug was cracked or chipped or held together with glue and hope, and they sure had plenty of mugs. They kept conjuring new ones, but Patton wondered if that was doing them any good: all the mugs ended up in disarray eventually, so it was easier to just deal with the fissures as long as the cup was still, you know, vaguely functional.

Patton grabbed his favorite- easily the most beaten and battered out of them all, with a thick line splitting up the little cat face painted into it, a large chip in one part of the rim that had been sculpted to look like a cat ear. Whatever he poured into it always tasted a little like the super-glue holding it together, but it was just too darn cute to get rid of!

Patton smiled to himself, and thankfully had set the fragile thing down before two lanky arms twined around his waist and scared him half to death.

“Remus!” It didn’t sound scolding at all; Patton was laughing too much.

Remus spun him around, looking immensely proud for startling him, and raised himself up to drape his arms over Patton’s shoulders.

“What’cha smiling about?” He asked, grinning wider than Patton was even capable of. Patton laughed again, softly this time, and leaned back against the countertop.

“Mmm, you first.”

“Okay,” Remus squirmed, like he’d been hoping someone would ask- which was silly, considering that he was always smiling ear-to-ear. “You.”

Patton rolled his eyes, “Nuh-uh, I already asked-”

“No, you,” Remus poked him in the ribs, “You’re why.”

“Oh,” Patton melted, just a little. “Ohhh,” he pulled Remus into a proper hug, burying his face in the side’s hair, and the giddy feeling he’d been stuck with certainly wasn’t going away any time soon after that, “Aww, Mess!”

“Jesus, you’re so mushy. That line wasn’t even any good,” Remus cackled, like he had any right to be aloof when he was coiled all around Patton like he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re the one who said it, you big sap!” Patton playfully argued.

“Yeah, and you never answered my question!”

Patton pulled back- although that stretched the term; he’d pushed himself up onto the counter, with Remus between his knees, essentially still touching.

“I’m just in a good mood, that’s all. It’s a good night!” And it was, but Patton had to admit- “Maybe it has something to do with you, also.”

Remus smirked at him, leaning forward and planting his hands on either side of Patton’s legs.

“It better. I’m a riot at parties!”

This is barely a party, Patton thought, you’re always a riot, but he didn’t say either thing. Just hummed, tapping his fingers on the laminate countertop, staring into the middle distance pleasantly.

The rest of the sides were sprawled around the couch in the living room- which was mostly visible from the kitchen- and their argument was swiftly getting louder. Not a single one of them wasn’t laughing as much as he was shouting, though, so Patton decided to let them be. They were caught up having fun, and so was he, to be honest.

Remus was watching the others, too, but only in glances. He tossed a look over his shoulder every now and then, eyes darting around the room wildly, which was almost normal for him. Except that he looked so focused about it, scanning over them and then back to Patton with purpose, almost like he was… waiting for something.

His claws were tapping on the counters, too, but it was a feverish beat. Patton covered Remus’ hand with his own, twining their fingers together and squeezing them comfortingly- and Remus’ eyes locked immediately back onto his.

“Hi,” Patton said.

“Hey,” Remus said, “I love you.”

Patton went still. He blinked rapidly, and took a minute to remember how to think. The admission couldn’t have been surprising, of course they loved each other, but- it felt like it was the first time it had been said. It also didn’t feel like that was possible, because after all their time together how could they have skipped saying it, it was so obvious? They were so close, so blunt, Patton was pretty sure neither of them knew the meaning of the word ‘unspoken’.

Oh, but either way, he should probably- “I love you, too!”

Yeah, weird or not that they hadn’t done this before, that part was still pretty important.

But Remus hardly reacted at all, just a twitch in the corner of his lips- maybe-almost a smile, hypothetically. If anything, he was jittering even worse than before the reciprocation; Patton took his other hand just so he’d stop trembling, like a paranoid chihuahua, clutching that one the same as the first.

“Hey, what’s wrong, Buddy?” Patton implored. Remus stared at him, through him, and his eyes were visibly sharpening like little red camera lenses.

“Patton, Patton, Patton,” a wild mantra, “I must have the restraint of a saint, waiting this long to- to, I mean- Can I-” he took a breath, a set in his jaw showing just how much effort it took to pull his thoughts together. “I wanna do something. With you.”

Patton paused, and thought very carefully about that statement and everything that it could mean. There were… many possibilities.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Was the question he eventually settled on, squeezing Remus’ hands.

“Uhh, Probably not? If it does, then I’m definitely doing it wrong.”

“Okay, well-” Patton took a breath, met his friend’s eyes, and how was that as enticing as it was troubling? “Why don’t you?”

“...Can I?”

Remus looked about ready to shake out of his skin, so if whatever it was made him calm down, then Patton didn’t have any objections. Plus, hey, he was dense, but he wasn’t that dense.

“Has that question ever stopped you before?”

Something steeled in Remus’ expression, and he grinned. Patton grinned back, and that was when he knew without a doubt what was about to happen.

Remus jolted forwards and kissed him, square on the lips.

It was over as soon as it started, with Remus wrenching backwards and looking even more wild-eyed, before Patton had the time to really process it. If it was even actually a nice kiss, for example, was something that he could not honestly answer- only that it had happened, and now, here they were. But gosh, had it happened…

Remus watched him closely, tensed up like a string. He looked unaccountably silly like that, or maybe it was just the giddiness, but Patton giggled either way, smiled, and ducked his head. He felt a flush in his face, and like his heart had filled up with something- warm and wild and not like anything he knew how to name.

And gradually, Remus relaxed from tension into confusion, a hesitant laugh escaping him. He tossed out a dozen sentence fragments, which Patton deciphered with ease.

“We’re-” aromantic, “We don’t-” do that, “I’ve never-” wanted to before.

“Doesn’t matter,” Patton said decisively, “I don’t care.”

Remus searched his expression for a moment, before breaking down into hazy laughter again. He looked gone.

“Fuck it- if you don’t care, I don’t care! Let’s- Let’s just-!”

His eyes were darting around again, looking back through the open wall- and the argument was still raging, no one was paying any attention to the kitchen. Patton pulled one of his hands out of Remus’ and did something very impulsive.

He grabbed Remus’ jaw, dragging the trait’s gaze back to him.

“Don’t look at them,” he said, “Look at me.”

If it weren’t for the hush in his voice, the gentle-saccharine softness of it, the unmistakable Patton-ness of it, it would’ve sounded downright narcissistic. He could feel bad about that later, though, because as it stood the words made Remus send him a lovely little look, which made it very hard to be sorry about anything.

“No complaints here,” Remus grabbed Patton’s wrist, making it very obvious that he wanted his hand to stay right where it was. “But that’s the only time you get to boss me around, so don’t get cozy telling me what to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus’ voice had been light, nothing like the way he used to talk about Patton’s bossiness. There was that obvious hint of sarcasm, like a little in-joke between them. Patton already knew what the punchline would be. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

Remus’ eyes glinted excitedly, “Doubt it!”

“Kiss me again.”

Patton got the sense Remus couldn’t have cared less about being wrong, with how fast he launched into it.

It took three tries to turn the doorknob, and again, not a single alcoholic beverage had been had by either of them that night. It was just that they refused to stop holding hands or cracking up laughing long enough to get the stupid thing open.

Patton shoved his way through first, kicking the door shut behind them and all but dragging Remus along. They were giggling senselessly, tripping all over each other and grinning at nothing and everything, before promptly collapsing onto the bed together.

That was the moment when Patton registered the room as Remus’, which only made him grin wider, because it was so alive in there. The shadows in the wallpaper all coalesced and reached out to Patton, and the floor purred under his feet, rippling like the skin of some giant animal. It was all so creepy the first few times he’d slept there, but now it was just adorable; every part of Remus, down to his room, was so ecstatic to have him there that it tried to pull him in and hold him.

But he couldn’t very well cuddle a wall, so Patton turned his attention back to the side himself, giggling and pleasantly delirious.

Remus was staring at him. Their hands were still clasped between them.

“Hey,” he started.

“Hiii,” Patton answered.

And then, in unison:

“What are we?” “C’mere and hold me.”

Patton blinked at him, and Remus laughed.

“Compromise: I hold you while you tell me what this-” he held up their hands, “-makes us.”

Yeah, that seemed fair.

Patton shuffled over, fitting his arms around Remus’ shoulders and weaving his fingers through the Duke’s hair, scratching at his scalp. Remus curled all around him in a way that had become perfectly familiar, resting his chin on Patton’s chest and staring up at him expectantly.

(and Patton answering questions in a way that made sense was unlikely in most situations, but with this one? Oh boy).

“So, um, I love you,” he settled on eventually, working out a particularly dense knot of hair with his fingers.

Remus snorted. “Yeah, you mentioned,” he tapped his claws against Patton’s sternum, seeming to turn things over in his head. “We’re friends?”

Patton thought about it. He frowned.

“We are, but… that doesn’t feel special enough. I wouldn’t-” he felt himself flush, “I know I’m touchy, but I wouldn’t do all this with just anybody. I wouldn’t do it with anybody but you.”

“Okay. Me neither. So, uh- boyfriendssss?”

They winced in unison, Remus dragging the word out in a hiss.

“No,” Patton said.

“Yeah, that ain’t the one.”

“I mean, we don’t, um-”

“We aren’t exactly gonna fuck, you mean.”

Patton squeaked, inadvertently tugging too hard on a knot of hair. “I- first of all, you can date without- that, but second of all- mhm, that’s a definite no.”

Remus scrunched up his nose, scratching where his scalp had been pulled.

“I know you can, but I meant, like…”

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut childishly. Patton patted him on the back sympathetically, equally as frustrated with Words and their lack of General Correctness at that moment as Remus clearly was.

“Why’s everything so fucking complicated?” The trait whined, “I mean, feelings are your job, you’re smart! What’s- what’s-” Remus sat up suddenly, straddling Patton’s legs, grabbing one of the side’s hands and pressing it against his chest. The fabric of his sash was rough against Patton’s fingers, and beneath that, an irregular pattern of heartbeats, and beneath that, there were… there were definitely some feelings. “What is that, Pat?” His voice dipped low, that strained whispery sound that Patton just loved. “It’s gotta be something.”

Patton tried to focus, however hard that proved, and reached down inside to find a name for the sensation. The sensation that matched his own so well, and that gave him an odd little feedback loop of emotion that made everything sort of dizzy- trying to figure out other people’s emotions through his side ability always made him dizzy, despite the fact that he was apparently very good at it.

“It sure is something,” Patton muttered, flushing brighter. It was so much, and if Patton was anybody else but himself, it would’ve been too much. But he wasn’t, and it wasn’t; he couldn’t get enough.

“I didn’t know you cared about this,” Patton let his hand fall, smiling bemusedly up at Remus, “A label, I mean. I always thought you’d be the one saying they were stupid. Not that there’s, you know, anything wrong with it either way.”

Remus rolled off of Patton, flopping down beside him again. He pressed up against Patton’s shoulder, chewing his lip in concentration.

“I care about stuff. Stuff like you, and this is about you, so. Don’t blame me for worrying about it now, you’re the one who infected me with feelings in the first place.”

“I don’t blame you,” Patton said, and he was absolutely grinning at that. Remus narrowed his eyes. Patton stifled a laugh.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s just- You sounded exactly like Virgil,” Patton giggled, shaking his head fondly, “‘Infected with feelings’, gosh, that’s so silly.”

Remus blinked at him, before his face split with a smile. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that one.”

Patton hummed. And then, he leaned over just enough to kiss Remus’ forehead, just because he could.

Remus caught him by the jaw and pulled him in for a proper kiss, which he happily reciprocated. That kicked off a nice five minute break from the conversation at hand, as Patton took the time to appreciate the feeling, noting the reverent gentleness that Remus always touched him with was just as present as ever- and yes, for the record, it wasn’t a great olfactory experience, but softness of him more than made up for it.

“So,” Patton started, once they’d finally parted. “I think I know what we can do.”

Remus stared at him, looking distinctly dazed. “What? Make out some more?”

Patton smacked him (lightly) on the arm, smiling despite himself.

“No- well, maybe- but I meant about us.”

“Right, right.”

Patton sat up straighter (haha), leaning back against the headboard and bringing Remus up with him. He tipped his head to one side in thought, then to the other (which was mirrored, adorably, by the Duke).

“We can make it simple if we just, y’know, cut out the middleman,” Patton took Remus’ hand again, tangling their fingers together. “So, I don’t have to be your friend, or your boyfriend… What if I’m just yours?”

Remus always had a very intense stare to him, but Patton had never felt quite as pinned to the spot by those laser-sharp reds than he did in that moment.

“Oh,” purred Remus, “Ooh, I like that.”

Patton smiled sheepishly at him, running his thumb along the Duke’s knuckles. “So- yes?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Remus leaned over him, fixing his free arm around Patton’s neck possessively. “You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Sounds like a plan to me.”

Patton laughed, almost overfull with giddiness at just how eager Remus managed to sound about that. It- it felt good, to be something that someone got so excited over. To be wanted.

To want, too, wasn’t as foreign a concept to Patton. But he was wanting now, and it was worlds different than before. Because he was actually getting the source of that yearning, this time, and of course that only made the feelings stronger, and-

Thinking about it made him tired. Deliriously happy, of course, but absolutely exhausted. For once, he was almost completely devoid of the urge to psychoanalyze himself; he was happy, in love, and loved. Patton could count on one hand the number of times he’d had all three of those things in his life at once, and he didn’t want to waste this one.

He tugged Remus into his lap. Remus was incapable of sitting still at all, but he hardly minded. Remus squirmed around, drummed his fingers against Patton’s back, buried his face in Patton’s shoulder (and, completely shamelessly, smelled him). It was so him, to not be settled at all even in such a contented moment. Endearing in every way.

And he started chattering, at some point, because of course he did. At first he was talking about them, but that topic didn’t stick around for long before he was jumping around all over the place with his words.

Remus ranted for two reasons: one, he was frustrated, needy for attention. Two, he was too excited not to talk, and there was so much going on that he couldn’t shut up for a second to even breathe. Patton was intimately familiar with telling the difference between the two, and, sorting that occasion into the later category, he wrapped Remus up in his arms and waited patiently for the trait to tire himself out. He didn’t mind that either.

Eventually, though, Remus did.

Eventually, it wasn’t night so much as it was morning, and Patton was tired and warm and half-asleep already, and Remus was laying contentedly on his chest while the rambling steadily became faint mumbling.

Eventually, they were sleeping, just like any other night together.

And the last thing Patton had in mind, as he flitted in and out of awakeness, was the dim realization that he’d forgotten how it felt to be cold.

the end <3

Taglist: @donnieluvsthings @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me

#sanders sides #ts #intruality #fanfiction #fanfic #qpr intruality #patton sanders #remus sanders #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

Far Away but Not Apart

Ao3

Summary: Roman loved Logan with all of their heart, even if they had only ever seen him through a computer screen. Content: Nb!Roman, don’t think there’s anything else really Pairing: Romantic logince Notes: This is the amos prize minific for @averykedavra who requested long-distance logince. I’m not certain I stuck properly to the prompt, but I do hope you like it, Avery!

“-I’m just saying, there is no crueler mistress than the one that would place soulmates such as ourselves so far apart!”

Logan sighed, rolling his eyes in a way that Roman was fully aware was amused, not annoyed. Though he had started the facetime sitting up and back in his fancy office chair, he was now leaning forwards, elbows on the desk, supporting his chin with one of his hands. “If fate were as cruel a mistress as you claim, Roman, then why would she allow us to meet each other at all?”

“To torture us!” Roman replied dramatically, grinning when Logan chuckled. “It is only in knowing the other exists that we suffer! To be so close in heart but so far in distance-”

“A pity, yes, but one we will survive.” Logan said, scoffing when Roman pouted at him. “You will only make yourself feel worse about our situation the longer you dwell upon in it.”

“I have dwelled upon it every day since the one I met you, and suffered it every day since the one you allowed me to call you mine.”

“We’ve only been dating for four months, Roman.”

“And friends for two years!” Roman added on for him. “And never once during all of that time have I so much as held your hand! It is a crime, my beloved, a crime, a sin, a defiance against all that is good and pure!”

“You’re overexaggerating.”

Roman sighed and collapsed backwards on their bed, hand splayed over their forehead. “No, I’m suffering.”

Logan laughed, and Roman lifted their head just enough that they could see him as he did so, their faux pout dropping so that they could smile at their muse. People who didn’t really know Logan said he was cold, unfeeling, logical to a fault. That was because people who didn’t really know Logan had never seen him smile brighter than the sun and laugh prettier than any angel could.

Roman didn’t realize they had gotten lost in their thoughts of loving Logan until the object of their affections coughed and said, “You’re staring.”

“How could I not?” Roman replied without missing a beat. “You are beauty incarnate, my sweetness, figure carved from smoothest marble and face painted with finest hues. I cannot help but to stare.”

“You really are too much.” Logan told them, but his cheeks had flushed a dark red that let Roman know their words had had exactly the impact they had hoped for. “I was asking you what you were doing this weekend.”

“Losing myself within worlds far more interesting than ours for but the fact that they do not have you, my angelic love.”

“So… binging Netflix?”

“My way of describing it was better.”

Logan chuckled. “If you say so, dear.”

Roman smiled at the petname. They had always loved how it made them sound as if they were an old married couple (which Roman fully intended for them to be one day). “And what are you going to be doing over your break from work-aligned existence?”

“Not really a break, I’m afraid.” Logan said, prompting Roman’s smile to become a frown. “I’ve got a business meeting on Saturday, leaving Friday night.”

Roman’s frown deepened. “Does that mean virtual movie night is off?”

Logan nodded, now frowning himself. “I’m sorry to say, but yes. We’ll have to reschedule for another week.”

“Well that sucks.” Roman said, trying to keep the majority of their disappointment out of their voice. They knew it wasn’t anything that Logan could change, so they didn’t want to make him feel bad about it. “You better get me a souvenir though. To make it up to me.”

“If a ten dollar bobble-head will fill the hole in your life that is our Friday night virtual movie marathon, then I am glad to oblige.” Logan returned, briefly looking away from the camera to check a paper on his desk. “Your address is the same, yes?”

“Don’t know how I could’ve changed it without you knowing.”

“Just checking.” Logan said, marking something down before he turned back towards the camera. “Now, I hate to once more be the figurative bearer of bad news, but I must take my leave- I have a client call in a few minutes here.”

“Skip it.”

“I do have to keep my job, Ro.”

“Your new job can be loving me, twenty-four seven, benefits are spending all your time with me.”

“And how much does loving you pay?”

“Did you not hear about the benefits? They’re better than money!”

Logan just laughed fondly. “You are cute, I’ll give you that.’

“So you’ll take up my offer and your new job?”

“Sadly, to function in the real world, I need a cash-paying job.” Logan told them, smiling at Roman’s following pout. “But if it alleviates your pains, know that I already love you twenty-four seven.”

At that, Roman allowed their pout to morph into a smile. “Well, look at who’s being cute now.”

“I’m simply stating the facts.” Logan replied, glancing at his watch. “One of which is, unfortunately, that I really must go now. I’m worried I’ll be too busy tomorrow to chat- I’ll call you on Saturday, alright?”

“Oh, my star, my sun, my only light through the darkness and troubles that are this world, however will I survive a whole day without any contact with you?”

“You are strong, my knight, I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Logan told them in return, grinning when Roman blushed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Roman responded, blowing Logan an imaginary kiss. Logan, as always, indulged them by ‘catching it’ before he turned his camera off, Roman’s screen going dark soon after. As soon as it darkened, Roman sighed, falling back against their bed and shutting their laptop as they did so.

It was going to be a long day and a half.

“Roman? Wh- Why are you calling?”

“Because I miss you!” Roman whined, not bothering with pretending to not be clingy. “Yesterday was long and dull and completely devoid of true joy and true love! I simply could not bear to wait til you called me! Oh, how I have missed you, my world, my stars, my universe-”

“It’s barely been a day, love.”

“Love!” Roman said, ignoring the majority of his sentence and latching onto the important part of it. “I haven’t heard you call me that in over a day! Possibly two! Hell, darling, I’ve been in absolute hell without you.”

Logan laughed at that, and Roman had never before so desperately wished they were on a facetime, just so they could see the absolute glory that would be Logan’s face while he was laughing. It didn’t matter how many times they had seen him laugh- it would never be enough. Before Roman could say something to that extent, however, their doorbell rang, grabbing their attention.

“Damnit.” They said, annoyed. Did they have packages coming today? They didn’t think so. And they really, really didn’t want to get up.

“What is it?”

“The doorbell- it’s fine, probably just a package or some door-to-door salesperson. Just annoying, interrupting the melodic sound of your laughter-”

“You should probably get that.”

Roman groaned and threw their head back. “But I don’t want to!”

“It could be someone important.” Logan told them. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Roman groaned louder, but they still swung themself off their couch. “Fiiiine. But when it turns out to be nothing, I’m going to… I’m going to…”

“Yes?” Logan asked, in a much too smug way that suggested he knew perfectly well Roman had no way to end their threat.

“...I’ll think of something.” Roman said vaguely, ignoring Logan’s following chuckle of disbelief and amusement. Shaking their head, Roman moved the phone from their ear to the side of their neck, muffling the speaker as they opened the door. “Okay, listen, I’ve got some important stuff going on so-”

Roman cut themself off as soon as they saw who was standing on their porch. Because it wasn’t a salesperson or a dropped-off package- it was a man with a suitcase by his feet, a phone in his hand, and a face Roman would sooner die than forget.

“Surprise?” Logan said, and that was all he was able to get out before Roman had flung themself at him and wrapped them up in what Roman was sure was the biggest, tightest, most important hug they had ever given.

“You’re here!” Roman said after a minute of just basking in the magnificence of the moment. They still refused to let go of him, having dropped their phone so that they could hold on solely to Logan, keeping him as close to their chest as possible. “You’re really here!”

“Well I’m certainly not a hallucination or someone pretending to be your boyfriend.” Logan said, having managed to get his phone into his pocket before returning Roman’s hug. “So I should hope I’m really here, yes.”

“Yes- but- you’re here! I can see you! I can hug you! I AM hugging you!” Roman exclaimed, knowing they were getting repetitive at that point but not caring at all. They were currently hugging their boyfriend for the first time ever, after all- how could they care about anything else?

“That you are.” Logan agreed, voice still a professional neutral before he tightened his grasp on Roman and added, “So I am as well.”

Roman giggled, a mostly involuntary sound that was brought about the sheer joy of the moment. They pulled back from Logan, just a bit, just enough that they could see his face- his beautiful, lovely, gorgeous face, a face that was a million times prettier in real life. “Can I kiss you?”

“Mhmm- not on the lips. Weird texture.” Logan said, but he was still smiling, unbothered by Roman’s question.

Happily, Roman pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead, grinning when they saw Logan’s smile grow. “I can work with that.” They said before moving to pepper the rest of Logan’s face with kisses.

“If I- if I knew you were going to be this persistent I- I would’ve stayed home.” Logan protested, having broken down himself and begun giggling in between Roman’s kisses, rendering his protests unbelievable.

“My most beloved, you are a horrible liar.” Roman told him, pressing an extra special kiss to his nose before saying suddenly, “Hey, wait- don’t you have a business meeting you’re supposed to be at?! You can’t be here!”

Logan laughed. “Roman, my prinx, this is the business meeting. I lied so I could surprise you.”

Both Roman’s eyes and smile widened as they dived back into scattering kisses across Logan’s entire face, only stopping when Logan pulled far away enough they could no longer reach his face.

“We are going to get absolutely nothing done if I allow you to kiss me all day.” Logan said, though at Roman’s pout he did lean forwards to kiss Roman’s forehead. “I did take Monday and Tuesday off, but I can’t be here forever, you know.”

“You say that as if it would be a waste of our time if I used it for little more than showering you in all the affection you deserve.” Roman returned, attempting to resume their attack of Logan’s face.

Logan pulled back once more, chuckling when Roman immediately began to sulk. “There will be plenty of time for that. But there is also time for other activities, such as one that might have been missed recently…?”

Roman blinked at Logan, frowning for a moment in confusion before their face lit up in a grin. “Oh! Movie night! We can have a real life movie night!

“Only if we don’t spend our entire weekend standing on your porch.” Logan pointed out. “So… may I come in?”

“Of course!” Roman said, finally (albeit regrettably) letting go of Logan so that he could grab his suitcase and come inside. The moment he was within and Roman had closed their door, however, Roman had their arms wrapped around Logan’s waist, smiling as Logan laughed and put a hand backwards so that he could hold Roman’s shoulder.

“You’re very touchy.” Logan commented, though he didn’t sound annoyed.

Roman just held him closer. “Two and a half years, my heart and soul and life! So long have I waited for this moment- you wouldn’t hold it against me that I wish to cherish it, would you?”

“It’s actually been two years, four months, and three days since our first interaction.” Logan corrected them before softening, leaning back and more into Roman’s hold. “But no, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Good.” Roman said, pressing a kiss to the top of Logan’s head. “Because I have no plans of letting you go anytime soon.”

Logan tilted his head back so that he could smile at Roman. “Well I should hope you don’t.” He responded, looking fondly at Roman. “Four days aren’t that much time. It would be a shame to waste even a second of them.”

Roman grinned. “Aw, you do like being cuddled!”

At the claim, Logan looked down, trying (and failing) to hide the blush Roman could still see blooming in his cheeks. “Maybe just a little bit.”

Grin widening, Roman shifted as quickly as possible, eliciting a small yelp from Logan as they lifted him up and held him against their chest. “Don’t worry Lo,” Roman began, using their new position to kiss Logan’s forehead, “Four days may not be a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, but it is plenty of cuddle time.”

Roman expected Logan to protest that, to say that time was the same whether it was in the ‘grand scheme of things’ or in ‘cuddle time’ or any other definiment of time, but he didn’t- instead, Logan just let out a small sigh and rested his head against Roman’s shoulder. “We’re watching Big Hero Six first.”

“Of course!” Roman agreed enthusiastically, leaving Logan’s luggage behind on the floor as they walked over to their couch before adding (just because he could), “Anything for you, my love.”

Because Logan was right- four days wasn’t that much time.

But Roman had plans to make the most of every second.

#logince #ts logan #ts roman #nb!roman #ts sides #sanders sides #fanfic #fanfiction #the cryptid speaks #amos minific #i haven't written logince in forever #gosh i missed these bois #averykedavra

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bat-besties · 4 years

Text

Courtship song

AO3

2.7k

Logince Fluff

When esteemed researcher Logan Crofter needs the help of a musician, famous saxophone player Roman Sanders gets ready for the most unusual project of his career.

Logan looked over the application again. Roman Sanders, respected saxophone player, winner of the Australian Jazz Bell Awards 2015 and 2018, with record sales in fifty countries. He outshone every other applicant, but that was what was worrying. Logan knew that his budget could not stretch to the kind of money Sanders would make at his average performance. Still, the musician had known their budget when he applied.

Trying not to overthink it too much, he dialed the number.

After a few moments, it picked up. "Hello? This is Roman Sanders speaking," said a clear, deep voice from the other end and he froze. He had not- expected him to sound like that. Whatever he had expected his voice to hold, it was not a timbre which seemed to be set to the resonant frequency of Logan's heart.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

"Yes-yes-" he snapped back into focus and cleared his throat. "Yes, this is, uh, Logan Crofter, I am accepting your application. You have reviewed the details?"

"I have! It all seems to be very organised," Roman replied. Logan felt his cheeks flood with heat.

"It is very organised," he said stiffly. "It's not your usual caliber of work, I know, but it is very serious. Very important. To me and others."

Roman laughed, not like he was mocking Logan, but in a genuine expression of excitement. "I know! It's important to me too! I always want to do something different, stretch my creativity, so this stood out to me. I think the idea is amazing. How did you come up with it?"

"Oh, you know, research- but more than a little hope. I had to also be creative, in my own way." Desperate times led to desperate measures, which for Logan were increasingly far from the approval of established methodology.

"Wonderful!"

He was suddenly afraid that Roman could hear his heart racing over the other end of the phone line. "Indeed. Indeed. So, I will email you the relevant audio files, then I can set up the studio for you for the 15th."

"Of course- I'll try and immerse myself! Truly get the feel! Any documentaries or anything you can recommend?"

"Oh, I-" Logan adjusted his perfectly straight glasses. "I'll send you a link to some," he said in a high-pitched voice. "And I can- set up the studio for you."

"Thank you, I appreciate it, Logan."

At the sound of his name in Roman's voice, he completely short-circuited. "Yesthankyougoodbye-" He hung up.

For a long moment, he stared at the blank screen of his phone almost breathless. I appreciate it, Logan.

He stood up, irritated, and wondered what in the name of Darwin had come over him. Attraction, he supposed. The musician's voice was simply...attractive.

Would it be egotistical to send Roman a documentary he himself had been interviewed in? It was most informative due to his consultation, but...perhaps it would not look best. Then again, research would probably cause him to stumble upon Logan's name-

He shook his head. He did not have time to deal with this. There were more important things at stake, and Roman Sanders could wait until the 15th.

Writing a love song would be stressful enough with a conspicuous and oft-mourned lack of a lover in his life, but as Roman trawled through the articles and videos Logan sent him, what had started as an exercise in eccentricity began to take on larger importance.

As the two emailed back and forth, the nervous, uptight voice Roman had spoken on the phone to morphed into a complete nerd delivering informative ramblings, or, in one YouTube video he'd stumbled upon, a slightly younger version of Logan almost lit up by a kind of tender curiosity.

Therefore, Roman wanted his song to be perfect, and between days practicing and nights researching, he managed to finish the piece only the day before the 15th.

As soon as he caught a glimpse of Roman's cloud of hair in the distance, Logan took a deep breath, and pulled on his best cool and professional approach. "Roman! I’m glad you were punctual."

Roman grinned at him. "I thought you'd appreciate that."

And, despite himself, he grinned back. He coughed, and then opened the door so Roman could carry his saxophone case through. "We rented out the space for hours, to give you as much time as you need."

"Thank you," the musician stepped through into the cool air-conditioned reception and wondered why Logan was flushed. "I hope you weren't waiting outside long? I am usually on time! I neither lag nor rush," he joked.

After a moment, the corners of his mouth twitched up. "Ah. Jazz joke. And no, please do not worry. I was not outside long."

As he led Roman down the corridor, he was trying not to look like he was watching him- though he also wanted to be polite- so he walked just ahead, turning his head every now and then. "Everything is prepared for you. We will overlay the drums afterwards, that idea is...really quite impressive."

"Well, the video you sent me gave me the idea! But yes," he admitted, with a bow more flamboyant than polite, "I do think the way I've worked it is quite unique."

They stopped outside the door. "Well-" Logan began, and Roman looked at him with interest. As they made eye contact somehow all the words he wanted to say fell down to bounce around his stomach.

Roman frowned in concern. "Are you alright?" Maybe the researcher got anxious, like Virgil did. "Would you rather I didn't make eye contact?"

"Oh," He adjusted his tie and looked down. "Thank you. No, I am alright with it. It is a threat display in many animals, but not necessarily humans-" He tapped the door-handle. He dimly knew he should cut off now but his clarification was already falling out his mouth. "It is especially seen as a threat among primates, and among those that is most pronounced with chimpanzees- which is why you must never look a chimpanzee in the eye and why zoos should in my opinion warn about body language of primates better, because visitors can upset them. But, then, many animals do become desensitised.” He shook his head. “But really, anthromorphising animals at all is a fool's route." His eyes darted up to meet Roman's once more.

Oh no. He was very, very cute. Roman would never have thought being informed about primate threat displays would be very interesting, but it was incredibly endearing. "You never think animals have their own thoughts and feelings?" he gently prompted.

"No, I know they do," Logan said sincerely. "But they are not the same as human thoughts and feelings."

"This isn't a little like that?" Roman teased.

Logan drew himself up. "No, this is research based."

"Have you set up the studio for me?" Roman asked with a twinkle of humor in his eye.

"I have. For you, a human-" But Roman just caught on you.

Logan unlocked the door, to reveal that the inside of the studio had been decorated with potted plants, the floor scattered with rose petals, a few candles lit, and a framed photo sat on a side-table.

"This is for your inspiration," Logan said with a slight smile. "You may serenade the photo."

Roman burst into a peal of laughter as he put down his case, then blew a kiss to the photograph.

It was a picture of a bird. It had mossy green feathers around its face, then brown ones around beady black eyes and a little beak with nostrils in it.

"I have played love songs for many people in my lifetime," Roman announced to Logan. "But never for, or on behalf of, a parrot."

The kakapo parrot is remarkable for many reasons- it is the only flightless parrot, as well as the heaviest one, and it is historically significant to the Maori. It ought to find mates with males booming to win the attention of females in arenas, but with critically diminishing numbers, competitions to attract mates are not replenishing or increasing the population. And therefore, conservationists must become creative.

"It is not a method which has been proven," Logan clarified, once again. "But any assistance in creating optimal conditions for the kakapo to meet mates is gravely needed."

Roman winked at him. "Don't worry, you already know that I can help set the mood."

"I don't know what you are-"

He undid the clips of his case, then picked up some of the rose petals. "And so, it seems, do you."

"It is of great importance this goes as well as it can do," Logan replied primly.

"Of course, of course, we need the rose petals," he said, with wide, sincere eyes. "For the atmosphere! Here we are, in the arena of love..."

"Actually," Logan couldn't help but add, "the arenas are very large. Each "court" is on average 50m apart, so I would have to be down the street from you."

Roman pouted. "But the benefit of this is you hearing me up close, not at the distance of a music arena. You have front-row tickets to one of the biggest names in Australian jazz." That was, perhaps, arrogant, but Logan appreciated him saying it like the fact it was. He said it like it was a gift to Logan that the musician wanted him to appreciate, not something he didn't deserve.

"Well," Logan conceded, "I suppose that the bird being serenaded is closer to the court."

"I am a proud parrot in my court then!" he said.

Logan nodded. "That is accurate. Judging by your voice, I am hoping your saxophone playing will also be attractive."

Roman paused. "By my voice?"

"It is objectively attractive," Logan said, completely objectively. "Therefore, I hope that your playing shall attract the kakapo parrots. To each other."

"Oh." Roman's eyes widened, then a soft smile spread on his face. "Thank you."

He bobbed his head into a nod, then gestured to the recording booth. "I have been instructed in how to use this, so I am going to go and set it up. You can start when you are ready."

"Just give me a moment to warm up."

"Of course."

As Logan fiddled with the controls to set up the recording for a new song, Roman warmed up, playing through a few scales. He didn't use anything to check his exact pitch, but it sounded right to Logan as he adjusted.

Then he paused, and nodded to Logan through the glass. "I'm ready."

Roman started with a few low, humming notes, similar to the booming of the kakapo, and Logan looked up from the controls, his heart in his chest all of a sudden. He could remember those long nights in a hide close to the arena, hearing the courtships- it was a sound which by rights should be common all throughout New Zealand. Then, the musician overlayed a few long notes, swaying and closing his eyes as he leaned into the music.

It was upbeat, with big dramatic swells every now and again, and Logan, whose mind was always leaping from thought to thought, from analysis to evaluation, was transfixed into stillness.

The smooth sounds, Roman's swaying, the way the dim light of the studio glinted off the saxophone and that earnest expression on the player's face…

All too soon, it came to an end with a final little trill.

To ward off stage fright, Roman had closed his eyes against the cute researcher and instead lost himself to his music. As he opened them again, he was met with a beaming smile and round of applause. A residue of nerves mixed with pride to thrill through him. "What did you think?"

Logan beamed. "I think it was perfect."

Roman's face heated, and his eyes crinkled as he returned a genuine smile. "Thank you! So- I'll have some water, have another take or two, and then we can see about overlaying drums and chirping?"

Logan nodded. "I think that is a good plan."

The two of them worked well together- in all honesty, Logan didn't have to input much since Roman was the expert on composition, but he was happy to cede control on a project if he was confident in the abilities of his partner. He was happy to listen to each deliberation, and provide questions if not answers.

They were finished and ready to vacate the studio half-an-hour before they needed to, since Roman helped Logan carry his props back to the van. "No- they just pair for the mating season."

"For now!" Roman declared. "My funky music will create love for a lifetime! That's a joke," he clarified.

Logan laughed. "Well, at least they have great genetic variation."

It was late afternoon creeping into evening outside the studio, and the warm air had begun to mellow and cool. "Are you staying in Auckland long?" Logan inquired.

"Only a few nights. I want to catch a show, but I don't have anything to do tonight. How about you?"

"I should be back at the sanctuary tomorrow. I would recommend the square a few streets from here if you're looking for a good restaurant. I can give you directions?"

"Oh, I don't know," Roman adjusted his saxophone case with a faux innocent expression. "I have to have this back at the hotel for safekeeping, and then it might be harder to find my way there..."

Logan furrowed his brow. "I can give you an address if you wish to use Google Maps?"

He couldn't quite work out if this was a genuine suggestion, or a gentle refusal. His hotel was close, and Logan's van on the curb. It was now or never- "You could take me," he said, with a confidence he didn't feel. "Tell me more about, uh, parrots."

Logan's heart thudded in his chest. "As a social event? Not to do with the project?"

"Social, yes."

"I'd like that." He adjusted his glasses. "I would like that very much, Roman."

They walked back to Roman's hotel, so that he could protect his saxophone, then wandered out along a quiet avenue on the way to the restaurant. The sky had dimmed to soft grey and purple, clouds scudding aimlessly across it. Side by side, they talked and laughed, glances catching on lips, on hands, on each other.

As a tentative test, Logan moved closer, so that their hands brushed together as they walked. When Roman faltered in the middle of his story about a concert, he offered his hand for him to hold.

Roman took it, raised it to his lips, and turned Logan red. Then, Logan mirrored, pulling Roman closer by their joined hands and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. For a long, still moment, they met eyes and forgot how to speak.

"I liked your playing, today," Logan said softly.

His lips parted for just a second before he could manage to say, "And I liked talking with you. Even over the emails...it has been a pleasure-" He cut himself off with a nervous laugh. "A pleasure I can't quite describe."

"We don't always need words for things." Although his hand was shaking, and his heart loud in his chest, Logan's voice was steady. "Music, body language, mutual company...there are many ways to communicate."

"Oh?" Roman murmured.

He nodded, and stroked his thumb over the back of Roman's hand. "I think so."

"Then, may I..." Slowly, he brought their joined hands over Logan's heart, and he moved his other one to cup his face.

Logan's eyes darted up to meet his, all shining with wonder. A breeze shivered through the trees, and although the evening was still balmy, he drew closer together, wrapping his arm around Roman's waist.

They stood in a tenderness of quick breaths and racing hearts, until Logan breathed, "Yes."

Roman dipped his head, and Logan tilted his up, their noses bumping into each other so the kiss was met with the beginnings of laughter. It was gentle, and curious, and as much about their clasped hands and chests pressed together and weak knees as it was the kiss itself.

They drew back for a beat. "How was that?" Roman asked, although his face was hot and Logan was starry-eyes, and he felt like he could faint.

"It was perfect," he said, thrilling again at Roman's voice so close to his face. "Just perfect. But, with these things I suppose..."

Roman stopped breathing.

A mischievous smile crept onto his flushed face. "I suppose we would be remiss for not, ah, testing further."

He burst into laughter. "Of course! Of course! Practice is the key to anything..." And they kissed again, more secure and passionate than before.

This is all based on a true story! Here is an article And here is the song!

#logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts fic #sanders sides fanfiction #fluff

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spookypotato · 4 years

Note

Maybe a fic where after Sirius’ ankle is broken initially ( like the first couple of hours after) they think he won’t be able to play again because the doctors thought it was worse than it was and the team are told to prepare for the worst and we get to see their reactions :(

Sorry lol I’m just OBSESSED with your writing, I get so giddy reading them bc they are so so perfect

Thank you so, so much! It means a lot someone enjoys my writing that much. And please dont apologise for giving me good ideas to write and compliments that make my day!💛

Okay, I don't know if this is what you wanted. But I hope you like it anyway! Sorry I took longer than last time. I haven't forgotten about any prompts, I just had a bit of a block.

Characters, again, by the wonderfully talented @lumosinlove! Thank you!💜

The lights were too bright. But Sirius tired to open his eyes anyway. James was sitting next to him. How the hell had he gotten into his house?! Then memories came back, cracking of bones, emergency sirens, a stadium erupting in booing noises.

He was in the hospital. His foot hurt a lot less than he expected, but it was also in a splint at the moment.

As soon as James noticed, that Sirius was awake -or at least had his eyes semi open- he hugged him rather aggressively.

"Mate, idiot, I thought you were dying!", James voice was muffled by the pillows.

"I did tell him, that you would 100% survive, though.", Remus interrupted Sirius thought process.

Not really being able to say anything yet, he just took in the scene he was presented with.

The cubs, off to the far left of his room, had probably just stopped playing a game with Olli. The cards were all over the table and Sirius couldnt even try to guess what they had been playing. But they were all facing him now.

Next to them Kasey sat a bit further away, but clearly in a position were he could look into Logans and Finns cards and observe the game.

In the middle of the room stood Kuny, Nado, Dumo, Thomas and pretty much their whole team. They barely fit into the room.

To the left stood Arthur and Moody, both relieved at him being awake. They had probably been discussing something about the season.

Right on his bed sat James. Still hugging him. Sirius wouldn't put it past him, to just stay like that for the next few days. Lily was sitting next to his bed on the right, reading her magazine. She was clearly not surprised about James' behaviour.

And then there was Remus. Probably sitting the closest to him after, off course James. Right to his left. There was no magazine or playing cards or even his smartphone anywhere close to him. He might have just arrived. Although he did look a bit too tired for that. Remus looked relieved, but also somehow pained. Sirius didnt know if it was, because of his ankle or because of something else.

His thoughts were interrupted by James, again. "Sirius, are you with us?"

Now the whole room was staring at him.

"Ouais, je suis réveillé.", it came out as a raspy sound. "Can I-", he coughed. "Can I have some water, please?"

James got his water not even a split second after, from his bedside table. He almost spilt the contents over the hospital sheets.

After he drank the entire cup in one go, he put it back next to his bed. He only realised now that there were flowers and chocolate there.

Chocolate- how ironic. No one in a hockey team would ever gift another hockey player chocolate. It wasnt on their meal plan. How long would he be gone, if he was allowed to eat chocolate?! He would be able to play again, right? Panic went through his entire body.

That moment a doctor came in. Everybody looked at her expectantly.

"Mr. Black", she started, "you broke your ankle, and you were in surgery, a few hours ago. I'm glad to see you have already woken up. That's a good sign. I have to inform you however that there were complications with the surgery, so you'll probably not be allowed to leave for at least the next week. Also-"

"I'm sorry, doctor, but that wont be possible.", Sirius interrupted her. "We have a very important game this weekend, and not only do I need to play, but I need to practice. I can stay no longer than today."

I would have been funny, that Sirius Black tried to debate with a Doctor about his body's state, but in this situation the doctors expression seemed to morph into a sad one.

"I wasnt suggesting it, Mr. Black. You will stay here, for at least a week. After that, we'll check on your state and if we decide to let you go home, you'll have to rest for at least 10 weeks to let the bone fully heal"

"But-", Sirius tried to say, but was cut of by the doctor again.

It was like a child complaining about not being allowed to have a certain toy.

"Once your bone has fully healed, you'll need to learn how to properly walk on it again."

"And afterwards I can start practice again?", Sirius sounded like he at least tried to accept his fate. He wouldn't be able to play the whole season.

"I dont think that will be what's happening. I'm sorry to inform you, but at the moment, it doesn't look like your ankle would handle the pressure of being on the ice in a professional state again."

"Does that mean he can never play again?", James asked, his voice sounded a bit shot.

It was only then that Sirius realised again, that he wasnt alone in the room.

"As it is now, no. I'm sorry. It could potentially change, but it is highly unlikely", the doctor told them. Even she didnt seem as neutral now as when she appeared. But then again, all of gryffindor loved their lions. She was probably almost as devastated as any other person in gryffindor.

"Thank you", was the only thing Sirius could choke out. This was all to much information at once.

As the doctor wanted to leave, James got up.

"Cant you bloody do something?! Anything? Please? We need him. Anything?"

The doctor just repeated herself. "I'm sorry, but as of now, the only thing we can do is wait how Sirius body reacts to the injury." With that she left the room, Arthur and Moody following her.

James sat down again. And hugged Sirius tightly and awkwardly, because he was still lying on the hospital bed. "Please tell me if you need anything, Pads.", he whispered.

The rest of the room hadnt said a word until now. Sirius was thankful for it. But they were all staring at him. Waiting for some kind of reaction.

"Guys, I'm fine.", Sirius lied. "How did the snakes game end? I want every detail."

He didnt listen. But he was pretty sure someone explained.

So many emotions were running through his mind.

He was furious. At Snape for hitting him. At the world for making it happen to him. At the doctors for not doing more. At himself for blaming everything else except himself.

He was sad. This was it. His career was over. He would maybe sit on the bench during games, if the team would even let him. He probably wasnt even part of the team anymore. He would be able to come to the first few games. And then fewer and fewer. Until the crowd had forgotten him. Until the team had forgotten him. Until he was just an ex-hockey player, sat in this massive house, alone and unwanted, all over again.

"Sirius.", a gentle voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Sirius, are you listening?" It was Remus', his hand now on Sirius' arm. As he looked down Loops pulled it away.

"Yeah, no, a bit, sorry." Sirius replied, " I was a bit lost in thought." As the rest of the team almost gave him a another sad look, he added "Just thinking about your new training plans and how exhausted you will all be. Next time you need to show the damn snakes not to mess with lions." This was one of the first times he wished, he could be exhausted with them.

The team didn't laugh. Logan moved his chair closer to Sirius bed.

"Next time we'll win. For you."

"Wow, if I would have known it just needed at hit, to get you more ambitious, I would have been down months ago.", Sirius joked. It wasnt funny. He didn't even laugh himself, although he tried. It came out as a short, bitter one.

The team was staring at him again. It was horrible. He didnt want their pity. He wanted to get back on the ice, now. But he couldn't. He would never be able to skate again. In his life. It was over. Everything was over.

#fanfic #my fic #harry potter #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coops #logan tremblay #leo knut #finn o'hara #sirius balck #remus lupin #broken ankle #ankle #injury #ask #short #written by meee

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ferretbitexo-fic-den · 4 years

Note

hi your recent moceit fic crushed my soul, (but it was so well done, you’re rly talented holy heck) so can i request some soft moxiety/moceit/logicality perhaps? happy ending? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

*plays eenie meanie on the ships* *gets Logicality* GLASSES GAYS IT IS

By the way, thank you so much! And sorry it took so long.

let it rush to my head (Logicality)

Synopsis: Logan doesn't have feelings, but he can deal with Patton's

Warnings: Swearing, one joke from Remus, heartbreak mention, anxiety attack mention, hurt/comfort.

Logan didn’t have feelings. That much was clear, albeit rather doubted by everyone in the headspace. His function as a side was literally opposed by such concepts.

So it was quite peculiar that he was so well-equipped to deal with an overwhelming amount of something he didn’t have.

Granted, of course, they weren’t his own. Now that would be absurd.

But somehow, when a certain heart gets overwhelmed by his own function, Logan knows just how to move.

…

The first time Thomas had to say goodbye, Heart was fragile. He had gotten quite close with the boy, and the thought of never seeing him again still gave Heart a full-body ache.

“Shhh, you will be okay. Thomas will be okay.” Brain promised, rubbing Heart's back as they he was enveloped in his arms.

“It hurts! I want to see him again! I don’t want to be forgotten!” Heart cried cuddling closer to the other child.

“He won’t forget us. He promised, remember?” Brain whispered over and over and over again. “He'll never forget us, Heart.”

Young Brain wondered why his chest felt heavy and his stomach was getting squished from the inside every time Heart cries became louder.

…

Thomas’s first day of highschool left sweet Morality in a bad kind of frenzy. Poor Fear had morphed into Anxiety after the bad experiences of middle school, and Morality was indeed no better.

“Is it bad that I wanna cry right here, right now?” Morality asked when Logic came to check on him only to find him sunken in 73 plushtoys in his bed.

“I assume you’re experiencing the same prognostic emotions as Paranoia?” Logic sat beside the pile.

“I’ll pretend I know what that means,” Morality grumbled, “because I’m stupid.”

Logic sighed and decided to find Patton's head. He gently ran his finger's through the sulking one’s fluffy locks. “You know you’re not.”

Morality sat up and looked at him as though he kicked a puppy. “Deceit?” He said, squinting.

Logic chuckled. “No, I mean it. If he were here, though, he'd call you stupid.”

Morality looked at him with a hurt expression until he suddenly gleamed with a realization. “Ah.”

Logic tilted his head with a smile. “You know Thomas will be okay, right?”

“I hope so…” Morality said, wrapping his arms around Logic who indulged in the gesture.

He wondered where that warmth was coming from.

…

Thomas's first heartbreak was something Logan had anticipated for a while, but dear oh dear did he wish he was wrong.

There he was, in front of the cyan door, ice cream and oreos in hand. He knocked on the door, not excepting an answer. “Patton, may I come in?” He asked.

He heard a distorted hum from the inside and didn’t hesitate to come in. “I won’t bother asking how you are, Patton. You look awful.”

That was a lie, of course. Patton could never look bad, even if he tried. Rather, he looked exhausted, broken. And Goodness, Logan could not handle it whatsoever.

He pushed the unwelcomed lump in his throat down to sit next to Patton who gathered enough clarity to look at the emotionally constipated nerd.

“I'm so, so sorry, Logan. I- God, this, I- this is my fault, Logan, I'm sorry I pushed us!” He cried, instantly clinging to Logan for comfort.

As if by instinct, Logan wrapped his arm around the soft, hurting side. “It's not your fault, Patton. He figuratively played with you.”

Logan knew he wasn’t of that much help at this moment, so he did what he knew how to do; hold Patton and tell him the truth he needed.

Of course, by now, he was still in denial of the chest pain he was feeling.

…

Through all the happiness and sorrows Logan had watched Patton go through, there was always something that baffled the mind.

It seemed like he would throw down his own function for the sake of the other without hesitation, and such occurrences were not uncommon that in would only seem strange to him after he had already helped Patton.

Of course, this was what caused him to realize that, maybe, just maybe, he did have emotions.

And it didn’t really come to him until he had inquired the others about it.

“You like him, you stupid genius.” (Logan was baffled with the emo’s ability to both insult and complement).

“Sounds like a serious infatuation, Microspecs.” (Roman was probably hyping up his own function).

“You wanna suck his dick emotionally, Dork!” (Why did he come to Remus?).

“Oh please, tell me you're not joking! You are obviously in love with him!” (Why was Janus fuming?).

…

“You… Love me too?” Patton asked to the finally fed up logical side.

Logan was red and stuttering and dysfunctional and there was literally nothing holding him back from crashing his lips on the equally flushed Patton's in the kitchen.

The two broke apart when Patton couldn’t stop giggling.

A unanimous “FUCKING FINALLY!” was the response they got during their dinner announcement.

TAGLIST❤

@shadowjag , @wigsnatchedhoteltrivago , @arsonenthusiast , @i-love-my-dark-strange-sons @phantom-moonfire , @lostonehero , @awkward-child-of-satan , @deetheimposter , @ashtonbby2 , @lokiamorstuffs , @janus-the-sassy-snek-boi , @eeveeeclair246 @enragedbees , @franthehorsegir

#logicality #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kid!patton #kid!logan

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lumosinlove · 5 years

Text

Sweater Weather

part viii

Remus woke up to the sound of the toilet flushing. The room he was in was dark, and it definitely wasn’t his bedroom. He looked to the place where his clock usually was, across the room on the dresser, and when it wasn’t there he sat up further, blankets kept up by his shoulder.

The bathroom door opened then, and he squinted sleepily.

“Sorry,” a voice came, and then someone was climbing into bed beside him. “Sorry, sorry, shh, Il est tôt, it’s early still.”

A hand settled over his hip, a body pressing up against his front and Remus pulled back, blinking hard. Sirius looked back at him, expression morphing into one that was unsure.

“What?” Remus mumbled. This had to be the most vivd dream he had ever had. Dreaming about Sirius coming back to bed after an early morning pee? It had never happened before. Usually his dreams were…less mundane, to say the least.

Sirius gazed down at him, and Remus was struck by the intense feeling of warmth that was present in every place he and Sirius were touching. Sirius’ hand tucked beneath the hem of his shirt and stroked a few soothing lines down Remus’ side.

“Ça va?”

“I…” Remus began to say, and it seemed to trigger something in his brain, to wake it up that last centimeter to realize where he was and what had happened last night. Fierce waves of elation crashed through his chest. He sat up a little further in Sirius’ arms, eyes wide. “Oh.”

Sirius tilted his head in the way he did when he was confused, or thinking, or re-watching his shift on the iPad, and Remus remembered. He remembered, but he needed to make sure.

The surest way to do that was to lean forward and kiss Sirius right on the mouth.

Remus’ entire body relaxed when Sirius made a pleased, low sound into it and leaned towards Remus, settling him back against the pillows so he could lean over him and kiss him again.

“I forgot,” Remus mumbled against his mouth. “Fuck, I thought I was dreaming.”

Sirius hummed, pressing a series of slow kisses to Remus’ cheek, then down to his neck. It felt amazing. “You dream about me?”

Remus could almost have laughed if it wasn’t for the fact that Sirius chose that moment to bite gently at Remus’ jaw. Whatever sound was going to come out turned into a slow, settling exhale.

“Yes,” Remus said softly.

“I do, too.” Sirius sounded pleased. “Sometimes daydreams.” He dragged his mouth back to Remus’ and let their lips brush. “Sometimes very inconvenient daydreams at very inconvenient times.”

Remus’ breath caught. “Yeah?”

Sirius sighed and pressed a small kiss to Remus’ mouth. “You have no idea.”

Except Remus was pretty sure he did.

Sirius smiled like he knew and leant in for another kiss. Remus could have stayed like that forever, nestled beneath Sirius’ body being kissed within an inch of his life. Sirius kissed the way he played—confident and precise, then a little messy when he was really going for it. On a breakaway, or, in this case, slowly taking Remus apart with his hand creeping down over the curve of Remus’ ass.

“You still skate,” Sirius squeezed lightly. “I can tell.”

“Look who’s talking,” Remus said, which turned into Sirius wrestling him back down into the covers to be kissed some more for a while.

“You have practice,” Remus said against Sirius’ lips eventually.

“You do, too,” Sirius caught Remus’ lower lip between his teeth and pulled gently. “You stop me.”

It sounded like a challenge, like Sirius wanting to race on the ice, and Remus laughed and wound his fingers through Sirius’ hair instead, letting himself be kissed.

They did have to get up eventually, and as they walked into the bathroom together, Remus realized that this was the first time he was seeing Sirius as, well, more than what he had been yesterday in the light. There was a purple smudge on his collarbone from Remus’ mouth, and quite a few on his own from Sirius’. But otherwise, Sirius looked the same. His body, toned and tall with lean muscle. The way he stuck his tongue out a little when focusing on anything, even spreading toothpaste on his toothbrush. His scars. Remus realized he had now kissed most of them, the one on his cheek and the one on his lip. Sirius’ hair was a disaster of curls from sleeping and Remus’ hands. Remus loved it.

Sirius caught him looking and smiled a little goofily at him in the mirror as he stuck his toothbrush in his mouth. Remus could see now that Logan’s shirt was a size or two too small, and it stretched across every part of Sirius’ torso and arms. Remus shivered, and then blissfully remembered that he could touch.

So he did. He pressed himself along Sirius’ back and wrapped his arms around his middle from behind. He nosed at the strong dip between Sirius’ wing bones, along his spine. He expected Sirius to laugh, maybe, but instead Remus felt him sigh deeply and looked in the mirror to see that Sirius had his eyes closed. He leaned back a little and Remus spread his feet against the bathroom tiles, taking some more of Sirius’ weight.

“We’ll have to remember to be more careful,” Remus said after Sirius had finished brushing.

Sirius laughed and it came out a little breathless. “More careful already?”

Remus moved around to his side and Sirius turned into him. It felt so natural that Remus could melt right into the floor. “I just mean,” he started, and prodded gently at one of the purple bruises on Sirius’ skin. “Clothing will cover these, but I don’t know what we’d say to Dumo if it didn’t.”

Sirius sighed happily and curled his palm around the back of Remus’ neck. “And those are all my fault, eh?”

“Mm,” Remus nodded in what he tried to make look like a serious way. “You’re the one just standing there, looking like you do, after all.” He rubbed his thumb across Sirius’ cheek. “You need to shave.”

Sirius stooped and rubbed his cheek against Remus’, then soothed it with a kiss, or what maybe was going to be a kiss until a ruckus from down the hall made them both look towards the still closed bedroom door.

“Looks like the baby Dumais’ are up,” Remus said.

“Looks like,” Sirius replied, and finished the soft kiss to Remus’ cheek that he had began.

Remus felt stupid with happiness. If Sirius, now his, looked like this in the bright light of the bathroom, he couldn’t wait to see what he looked like in the sun.

The thing was, it was different, and it wasn’t hard yet, but Remus knew it would be. He hadn’t fooled himself about that. That day at practice was full of giddy, secret shared smiles and Sirius coming over for a sharpened skate and letting his hand rest briefly on the small of Remus’ back as he turned to go. It was new. It was easy to love the newness. Remus knew it would be hard sometimes, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice these moments because of that. He would let it play out. He would let himself enjoy this.

He would wait by the door for Coach to finish his game-time speech and glance, every few minutes, at Sirius, catching his dark eyes steadily looking back. Remus didn’t know if Sirius was actually being obvious about looking, or if it just felt obvious to Remus because it was all he could see, all he could think about. Sirius had a hole in one shoulder of his Under Armour that was definitely going to rip if he didn’t do something about it. Remus couldn’t help but smile a little bit, thinking about the first—and only—time he’d suggested to Sirius that he get a new shirt, or handed him a new hat when the one he had been wearing in post-game interviews was starting to show sweat stains. Sirius, still stiff and unfriendly then, had fixed him with a hard gaze.

“I can’t,” he had said with a set jaw. “I don’t like to change things.”

Remus hadn’t needed him to say anything further. He’d met plenty of guys who had superstitions like that—couldn’t change a stick that he had scored with, wore the same sweatshirt every day before putting their jersey on. He hadn’t seen any, however, with as many superstitions as Sirius.

So, Sirius’ post-game interview snapback was disgusting—and endearing. So there was a hole in Sirius’ shirt that he was most definitely not going to change until he either broke his point streak, or the shirt ripped right in half. Remus bit his lip thinking about the latter, thinking vaguely about different situations where he could be responsible for such a thing. He let himself think about it, right there in the locker room, with Sirius’ eyes trained on him. Sirius’ hands were busy taping a stick, so practice that he barely even had to look. Remus knew what those hands felt like now, on his hips, cupping his cock through his sweatpants—

Remus had his job to get to though. His life felt like an old life now, like some earlier version filled with hockey—of course—and worrying about how much of the team he should really allow himself to indulge in, even if invited. And Sirius. Pining after Sirius. It was the same, really, except now Sirius looked at him and Remus could tell Sirius wanted to kiss him by that look. It was a little incredible. It fueled him through slipping out of the locker room with a smile, it fueled the spring in his step as he walked down the tunnel to the bench and the waiting, filling Hogwarts Arena. They were playing the Ravenclaw Ravens.

He joined Moody on the bench, straightening the extra sticks and looking around the crowd to see if there were any stand-out signs tonight. There were really only the usual. A few girls waiting to ask Finn if he would go to prom with them, a few Ravens fans telling James that he needed to get his eyes checked.

“Ravens got beautiful jerseys this year, eh?” Moody said, and Remus nodded. They were a paler blue than usual, with their signature dark navy coloring raven wings that ran along the insides of the arms so that they appeared to flap with any movement of the players or fans.

“Sick, yeah,” Remus said.

By the time the boys were out on the ice and warming up, many of the kids had received pucks over the glass and the girls had received, if not a prom date, then a signed stick from a slightly pink but winking Finn. Sirius was stretching out on the ice with James, and Remus actually let himself look this time. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sirius was on his hands and knees, stretching his inner thighs, right in front of the bench—he always stretched right in front of the bench—but Remus could look now. And there was a reason why people always said hockey players had the best asses. He wasn’t obvious about it, but the real fun was in watching Sirius, finish, rise, and catch Remus’ gaze. Sirius smiled and skated over for a moment, instead of going to trace the Lions logo at the center of the ice with a puck like he usually did.

“Hi,” Sirius said, picking up a water bottle.

“Hi,” Remus replied in what he could tell was an odd, breathy tone. “Feel good?”

“Parfait,” Sirius slid the water bottle back and licked his lips. “You?”

Remus felt ridiculously unable to keep the smile off of his face. “Mhm. Hey, do—”

James slammed into the boards beside Sirius, “Where is the fucking blue—”

Remus shoved a bottle of blue gatorade at him and James hummed in delight, squirting some into his mouth.

“Thanks, mom.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Leave, I’m having a word with your captain.”

James rolled his eyes exaggeratedly back but skated off to shoot on Leo, who had gotten the start in net that night.

When Remus finally looked back at Sirius, he was standing up again and looking guiltily between Remus and the logo, a puck flicking back and forth on his stick.

“Um, I sort of have to…” Sirius began, then trailed off.

Remus laughed. “Go, keep your routine.” Then, quieter, he added. “We can talk later.”

Sirius sent him a wide grin and then was kicking off towards center ice, slapping his stick to James’ butt on his way. Remus watched Sirius handle the puck with depth, near perfection, in the middle of it all. It was like he was the only person on the ice with the way he focused.

The crowd was getting snacks and settling into their seats. Remus felt like the familiar, exhilarating hum before a game was multiplied by the way Sirius glanced over at him with a wide grin before bending for the opening face off, stick across his knees and eyes going focused and hard. A thrill went up Remus’ spine with the thought that he could tell Sirius how much he liked that look on him now.

The Lions got a shut out. The locker room was cheerful and rowdy after the game, high off of a 4-0 win.

Remus felt high with them.

Sirius had gotten a hat trick. His first one of the season. A gorgeous, coast-to coast goal in the first, followed by a shorty a few minutes later, then a tip-in in the third on a power play. The Lions crowd had been manic, and Sirius had been crushed against the glass by the boys in a hug and what looked like hundreds of hats hat been thrown down onto the ice. Remus couldn’t resist looking up at the jumbo-screen where Sirius’ huge grin was plastered for everyone to see. When he looked down next, Sirius had been right in front of him, pushing himself back onto the bench. Remus couldn’t kiss him, so he knocked him in the helmet instead, smiling back.

“Wow,” Dumo had drawled, accent heavy as he shoved his and Sirius’ shoulders together. “Where did that come from, eh?”

“Guess I’m just feeling it tonight,” Remus heard Sirius reply. He had had to turn around and busy himself with the medkit so he could smile for a second.

The lion head token was awarded to Sirius, and he shoved it on his sweaty head, laughing.

“Nice night boys, and congrats Knutty on the shut out, eh? Let’s keep it going,” he said, then placed it in the upper part of his stall. Remus would have to remember to collect it later for their trip to Nashville in two days to play the Predators. It was then that he remembered they had tomorrow off. He’d have to go in to prep equipment for the plane, but it definitely left his morning free…should it need to be filled with a hockey player in his bed and then sitting at his kitchen table, sleepy and wanting breakfast.

Remus stuck around long enough to watch the media swarm Sirius’ stall, asking him about his hat trick, about how he thought Leo was doing in goal for his rookie season, about his plans for Thanksgiving. Every question was honest if short. He cracked jokes, even. But at the Thanksgiving one, Remus watched the entirety of his body language change. He sat up, adjusted his hat.

“Just home with the family in Québec. You know. It’ll be nice to have time off.”

After that, Sirius was so obviously less open to talking, that some of the reporters moved onto James.

Remus was back in his office and shrugging on his coat when a voice made him turn.

“Need a ride?”

Remus spun on his heels. Sirius was standing there, freshly showered and in jeans and a sweatshirt with his number on the sleeves. He had a beanie pulled low over his wet hair. He smiled, and Remus knew.

“Yeah,” Remus said. “I do.” He grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, murmuring a, “thanks,” once he had reached Sirius in the doorway.

Sirius just nodded, looking down at him for a moment. Remus thought he might kiss him, right there, and as soon as he had the thought, Sirius looked behind him down one end of the hallway, then the other, and then leaned down for the briefest of pecks.

“Let’s get going,” he said, and Remus couldn’t have agreed more.

They briefly ran into Finn and Leo in the parking lot, on their way home back to the apartment they shared, and were spared not much more than a wave. Remus took a steadying breath. They weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary. It was a little thrilling, even, to have this secret.

“I could make some food,” Remus said once they were in the car. “I know you’re hungry.”

Sirius hummed appreciatively as they pulled out of the parking garage and glanced over at Remus. “I don’t want to make you cook. We could pick something up.”

“I’ve got stuff for sandwiches. It’s not exactly cooking. Or pasta, if you want your…” Remus cracked a smile, “second bowl of pasta of the night.”

“I do that sometimes,” Sirius laughed, too. “I get so fucking hungry. But a sandwich sounds really good.”

“Good,” Remus said. He realized he was practically squeezing his hands together and tucked them beneath his thighs instead.

Sirius only needed a few reminders about directions, and Remus took a little delight in the fact that Sirius, without comment, pulled into the overnight parking lot. He knew it was the only option now that loitering on the curb was out, but it sent a tremor to his heart none the less.

They stood on opposite sides of the elevator and grinned stupidly at each other on the way up. Sirius had his hands in his pockets and his head tilted back against the wall and Remus was fairly sure he was going to melt into the floor before they even reached his kitchen. He was just—big. And his sweatshirt was damp at the collar from his drying hair. Remus wanted to wear that sweatshirt.

“Just down here,” he said when the doors dinged open.

“Ouvrir la marche,” Sirius swooped his hand forward and Remus walked ahead, just a little pink.

He could feel Sirius’ presence behind him all the way down the hall, and even more when he pressed a little closer as Remus opened his door. Remus wanted to press back into it, but he took a breath. He didn’t want Sirius to think this was just about sex. The last thing he wanted was for Sirius to feel like Remus was just another person trying to—get to him.

“I have turkey and ham. And cheese. Cheddar,” he rambled a little, trying to let Sirius look around his small apartment for the first time without watching him as nervously as he felt. He walked into the open kitchen and watched as Sirius looked over the counter to the living room. “Oh, and cranberry sauce. I don’t know, I like it with the turkey, you don’t have to have it—”

His sentence was cut off, however, when he was suddenly spun around by a hand around his wrist and pulled into a warm chest. Sirius kissed him hard with a palm against his neck.

“Sorry,” he said after, “I’ve been waiting all day.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Remus fisted a bit of Sirius’ sweatshirt. “You don’t have to be sorry about kissing me like that, jeez.”

Sirius snorted. “Jeez,” he parroted, then leaned down to kiss a laughing Remus again. “Weird word. You know I think I picked that up from you? And I’ll have cranberry sauce.” He brushed their noses together, “I can help?”

Remus nodded, and they got out the ingredients together, Sirius only chirping Remus a little for how stubbornly healthy all the food in his fridge was.

“I’m not the one burning a million calories every night!” Remus said, popping some bread in his toaster.

Sirius held his hands up, conceding and asking, “You want turkey?”

They ate their sandwiches standing up at Remus’ kitchen counter, arms knocking while they ate because they refused to move away from each other. It was nice. It made Remus’ apartment feel less empty. It reminded him of that first call he had received from Sirius, nervous about his ankle and the coming season.

“What made you call me that night?” Remus asked, and by the look in Sirius’ eyes he didn’t have to elaborate.

“I told you I’d liked you for a while. That, and you’re a big reason why my ankle rehab went so well. I knew you’d be able to comfort me.” Sirius shrugged one shoulder. “You always know what to say to me.”

Remus smiled a little. They were the words Sirius had said to him the night that they kissed. “That’s still not true.”

“I’d know better than you,” Sirius knocked their hips together. He took the last bite of his sandwich and then brushed the crumbs off of his hands. “Alright, I’m going to go find that number 12 jersey of yours now.”

Remus dropped his sandwich right back onto his plate.“No, no, no, no you aren’t.” Remus grabbed Sirius’ arm, but had to put a bit of his weight into leaning backwards to keep Sirius still.

Sirius cracked up and playfully—but successfully—tugged Remus closer towards his bedroom. “What,” he stopped suddenly, making Remus stumble a little. Sirius caught him and pressed him against the wall. “You aren’t going to wear it for me?”

Remus let out a shaky breath. Sirius towered over him, neck bent a little to brush their lips together. His voice was low and deep, his accent sounded heavier than usual.

Remus swallowed and took a breath. “Maybe you can wear it for me.”

Sirius smiled slowly and his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Remus said, slowly being distracted by Sirius’ thigh pressing between his own.

Sirius’ eyes were dark when he leaned closer, brushing their noses together.

“Show me.”

Remus leaned up and kissed Sirius hard, pushing him backwards in the direction of his bedroom. It wasn’t the most practical. They kept bumping into the walls because they wouldn’t stop kissing long enough to watch where they were going. Sirius kept his hands planted firmly on Remus’ hips, dipping beneath the hem of his sweatshirt.

“C’est bon?” Sirius said against his mouth.

Remus didn’t respond, exactly, but kissed him harder, guiding them through the doorway and into his bedroom. He had a sudden, fleeting thought about whether he had left it messy or clean that morning.

“Mm,” he said, pulling away and glancing around the floor. It was bare except for a stray shirt on the bed. He looked back up at Sirius, who was looking at him with his eyebrows raised. “I was just—if it was clean.”

Sirius laughed, hand moving to rest on Remus’ cheek. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth. “Don’t worry about that.”

Remus wrinkled his nose, “I wasn’t worried—”

But then Sirius was kissing him again, backing up until they were by the bed. He gave Remus’ sweatshirt a tug. “Can’t have this on if you’re going to wear your jersey, eh?”

“Eh?” Remus parroted, and Sirius gave his side a playful pinch before spinning them so the back of Remus’ knees hit the bed and he fell backwards.

“I can take it off?” Sirius fell down on top of him, thighs spread around Remus’ hips and palms pressed into the mattress on either side of Remus’ head.

“Yeah,” Remus breathed.

Sirius pressed a devastatingly lingering kiss to his mouth, and then grinned before moving onto his neck. Remus blinked up at the ceiling and let out a breath, hands going to Sirius’ hair.

“It isn’t fair,” Sirius said against his skin. He pulled the collar of Remus’ sweatshirt down and kissed there, too, along his collarbone. He scraped his teeth lightly.

Remus’ fingers tightened in his hair, and he pulled his lip into his mouth. “What isn’t?”

Sirius lifted his head and looked at him for a moment, eyes dark and playful. He sat back a little farther down the bed so that his face was level with Remus’ stomach as he pushed the hem of Remus’ sweatshirt up, revealing pale skin.

“You get to see me naked all the time,” Sirius said, and leaned down to press a kiss just above Remus’ naval.

Remus laughed, a little breathlessly. His hand had slipped from Sirius hair when he moved out of reach and he pulled his own sweatshirt up now. “How is anything about that unfair? Seems pretty great from my end.”

“Well, I never get to see you.” Sirius tilted his head at him, eyes flicking along Remus’ face. “Enleves-le pour moi?”

Remus blinked at him for a second, then scrambled to follow instructions, sitting up just enough to wrestle his sweatshirt from his body, leaving him bare from the waste up. It would be easy for Sirius to see, now, how fast he was breathing.

“Now I do,” Sirius said lowly, and kissed down Remus’ chest, large hands spanning along Remus’ ribs. “No more teasing in hotel and guest rooms. You forgot your clothes,” Sirius sends him a small smile. “Jeez, Remus.”

“I did,” Remus said, flushing as he remembered that first night Sirius and him had fallen asleep in New York.

“You certainly didn’t mind me,” Sirius’ mouth had made it down to Remus’ hips now, thumbs playing with the band of his sweats, “silently freaking out on the bed.”

Remus looked down at him, breath hitching. His dick was uncomfortably tight in his boxers now, an obvious bulge just below Sirius’ chin. “Oh, you were freaking out?”

“Mm,” Sirius hummed, then promptly bent and mouthed all along the clothed outline of Remus’ dick.

Remus let out a breath, fingers closing tightly around the sheets.

“You were right there,” Sirius breathed, then pulled away, pushing himself back up to Remus and pressing their hips together, pulling a groan from both of them. “Making me crazy.”

“Fuck,” Remus tangled his fingers in Sirius’ sweatshirt. “Fuck, off, take this off.”

It was what he said, but at the same time he hooked his ankle around Sirius’ calve and kept him there, arching his hips up as Sirius pressed them together.

“Have to let me go,” Sirius said, and fuck if Remus loved how his accent was even heavier now, like he was losing focus. “If you want me to wear the jersey.”

“I just want you,” Remus said instantly, feeling a little wild with the truth of it.

A funny look crossed Sirius’ face for a second, lips parted. He leaned down and kissed Remus, tongue swiping into his mouth. He made a low sound and sat up on his knees, reaching behind him and tugging his sweatshirt and t-shirt over his head in one motion.

Remus held his breath. After so long of not being able to look, the sudden freedom nearly made him ache. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the hard planes of Sirius’ chest. He was just good. Everywhere. Lean muscle, cut hips, broad shoulders.

“Not to say I won’t want you to wear it…sometime.” Remus smiled as he reached forward questioningly and tugged at Sirius’ sweatpants.

Sirius laughed, leaning down over Remus again. His skin was warm against Remus’. “You first. I wear that thing every day.” He nosed against Remus’ cheek, voice dropping to a whisper. “Hey.”

Remus chased his mouth, sneaking a quick kiss. “Yeah?”

“You should know that I—um.”

Remus blinked a few times at the suddenly nervous tones in Sirius’ voice. He reached up and pushed the hair away from Sirius’ face, rubbing his thumb along his temple, over a slightly raised, old scar on the high of his cheek. “What it is? It’s alright.”

Sirius leaned into the touch, smiling a little sheepishly. “Nothing bad, I’ve just never…you know? With a guy?”

Remus felt his eyes widen and Sirius shrink back from it, smile fading a little.

“No, no, no,” Remus said quickly, pressing a hand gently to Sirius’ chest. “That’s fine. Sirius, of course that’s okay. We can do whatever you want.” Remus shook his head, smiling, “If it helps…I sort of feel like I’m going to come in my boxers like a fucking sixteen year old.”

Sirius’ mouth opened for a minute, then he ducked his head against Remus’ neck where Remus could feel him laughing. Remus laughed, too, but even the slight change in mood didn’t stop him from squirming against Sirius a little.

Sirius felt it, groaning gently into Remus’ neck before pulling back to look down at him, to kiss him soundly. Remus decided to take a little more control then, licking into Sirius’ mouth and pushing at his shoulders until he got the hint and rolled obligingly onto his back.

“We can do whatever you want,” Remus repeated as he settled himself on top of Sirius. “We can start slow, okay?” Remus reached down and brushed his fingers over Sirius’ dick through his sweatpants.

“I—yeah,” Sirius said, sounding a little dazed. He nodded, “yes.”

Remus got them both out of their sweatpants, their boxers, and then they sat there looking at each other for a moment. Remus swallowed dryly. He’d caught what fleeting, risked glances he’d allowed himself of Sirius’ dick in the locker room, but never like this. Never hard leaking against his stomach a little. He had been able to tell he was probably big when he got hard but—

“God,” Remus breathed. If only he’d known that his fantasies hadn’t been doing Sirius justice at all. That the real thing was so much better. He felt himself twitch and cupped a hand around his balls briefly, hissing, just to relieve some pressure.

Sirius, meanwhile, was staring just as intently back, eyes wide and hungry, and mouth parted like it did after a breakaway up the ice. He opened an arm, and looked up at Remus.

“Come?” he said. “What now?”

Remus let out a breath and went to him, pressing himself all along the side of Sirius’ body and tucking one thigh loosely over his. He liked this, being as close as possible and free to look all he wanted. He ran his hand up Sirius’ chest first, then up his neck to turn his head and kiss him. He wanted Sirius to enjoy every second, wanted him to feel relaxed.

“Okay?” Remus asked when, after a few minutes of making out, Sirius started making noises.

“Oui,” Sirius breathed, chasing Remus’ mouth. “But…” He reached for Remus’ hand where it was curled around the back of his neck and took it in his own, moving down, down, and pressing it just above where his dick was more than a little wet against his stomach. He made another soft sound, and Remus smiled. Sirius skin was hot and Remus was happy to have so blatantly received permission.

Remus pressed a kiss to his jaw and wrapped a hand around him. It was a little dry, and Remus would get the lube from his bedside table in a second, but right now all he wanted to do was watch the way Sirius’ eyes slipped closed and his mouth dropped open. Remus let out a shaky breath and squeezed Sirius at the base, then ran a thumb over the crown.

“How do you like it?” Remus asked, pressing a blind kiss to Sirius’ cheek as he watched.

Sirius swallowed. “It’s good. A little tighter, maybe.”

“Here,” Remus said. “One second.”

He gave Sirius a quick stroke before rolling away for the lube. He eyed the condoms for a second, but he didn’t think that was what was happening tonight. He was more than happy with this.

“Ah,” Sirius said. “Didn’t know where you were going on me.”

Remus flipped the cap and squeezed a bit out onto his palm before tossing it onto the bed somewhere and pressing himself all against Sirius’ side again. “Not going anywhere,” he said, and took Sirius in his hand once more. “Tell me what you like.”

Sirius let out a little laugh, letting his head rest back against the pillows. “You.”

Remus smiled and took advantage of the newly exposed expanse of Sirius’ throat to kiss it gently. He tightened his grip and heard Sirius’ breathing hitch. “And?”

There was a beat of Sirius simply breathing, before his hand closed around Remus’ and he pushed his thumb up to play at the head. The minute he did so a bit of come dewed at the tip before leaking over the side. It was Remus’ turn to breath a little heavier, watching Sirius show him this part of himself. Never in a million years did he think…

“Can I…?” Sirius began, then hesitated until Remus nodded. He didn’t know what Sirius was asking, but he was okay with it.

It turned out Sirius wanted Remus on top of him, thighs against Sirius’ hips. It turned out Sirius wanted to grab the lube and dribble it straight onto his own stomach, then pull Remus down with his hands on the backs of his thighs.

“Oui?” Sirius mumbled in response to Remus’ punched out moan, and rolled his hips up.

“Fuck. Fuck, yeah, yeah,” Remus breathed. He let Sirius coax him the way he wanted, his hands framing Sirius’ head. They built a relatively quick rhythm, but after a while Sirius started making noises again. He was louder than Remus had expected.

“Who knew,” Remus let slip. He couldn’t remember ever being this hard.

“More,” Sirius panted, then reached for one of Remus’ hands and wrapped it around both of their dicks.

Remus couldn’t help but laugh a little, even as he groaned at the sight of Sirius’ large hand around his, around both of them. “Your play, huh?” he said.

“Communicate to score,” Sirius mumbled, a little deliriously.

Remus would have made fun of him for it, if it hadn’t reminded him of something. He leaned down instead, keeping one hand around both of them, jacking them quickly with firm snaps of his hips.

“That fucking hat trick, Pads, fuck,” he rubbed his thumb against the sensitive base of his cock, thinking about the powerful, dark look Sirius always got on the ice. “You were so good. You’re always so good.”

Sirius made another low noise in the back of his throat. “Because of you,” he managed, then, “Think about you on the ice. All the time. Now, more.”

Remus couldn’t help but smile as he bit a kiss into Sirius’ neck. Sirius said “more” in the same way that he yelled “skate” at his teammates from the bench.

“Yes, Captain,” Remus said into his skin.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned, but it didn’t sound all that unhappy at all. He practically growled and wrapped an arm fulling around Remus’ back before flipping them.

“C’mere,” Sirius said simply again, and then his hand slipped down to Remus’ ass and lifted him against him.

“Yes,” Remus choked out, arms tight around Sirius’ neck. He could feel himself getting close. He looked down and felt his dick twitch hard. Sirius’ cock had made them both messy with the nearly steady stream of precome it was leaking, clear and shining.

“Did,” Remus thought for a moment, “did you already…”

“No,” Sirius panted. “Just—how I am.”

Remus couldn’t even reply to that, just reached down at ran a the heel of his palm against Sirius’ red, stiff cock, through the mess, pushing it against his own stomach, against his own dick.

“Close,” Sirius said. “Remus, come for me.” He let Remus back down against the mattress and hitched his legs around his hips. Remus moaned as it brought them that much closer. Sirius reached between them with both hands, cupping Remus’ balls with one palm and giving Remus long, tight pulls with the other. “Come.”

Remus felt his breath catch, his back arch off the bed, before he came hard, blindingly so. He felt Sirius’ reaction when he did, a shaky release of breath as Remus arched against him. Sirius pressed against him, cock heavy and aching against Remus’ hip. He rutted once, twice, and then came, too, with a groan. He came for a long time, and in thick pulses, mouth open and eyes shut. Remus felt his cock twitch in a valiant effort to come again at the sight, only managing a thin dribble. He couldn’t imagine where it all came from.

“Jesus,” he breathed, reaching out. “God, Sirius, look at—you’re so…fuck.”

Sirius more or less fell into Remus’ kiss. It was sloppy and wet, and Remus never wanted him to stop. He pressed his fingers through Sirius’ hair to steady him, to pull him in completely until they were chest to chest, mess and all. Sirius was breathing hard, panting into Remus’ mouth. There was a fine tremor beneath his skin and Remus passed his hands up and down Sirius’ sides, smoothing it away. He pressed kisses to Sirius’ jaw.

“Fuck,” Sirius murmured. “Fuck, Loops, that was…” he groaned a little.

Something in Remus’ chest warmed at the nickname. He held Sirius a little tighter.

Sirius looked at Remus, smiled softly, then pressed his face against Remus’ neck, warming and laughing lightly. “You liked your hat trick?”

Remus laughed out loud. “My hat trick? Your hat trick.”

“But it was for you,” Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ neck, which turned into a trail of them until he reached Remus’ mouth again. “For our team…but for you.”

Remus pushed his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “Maybe this is a new hat trick. Our hat trick. A sort of—celebration.”

Sirius laughed, tilting his head.

Remus pressed a kiss to his lips. His heart was still beating hard as he tried to catch his breath. “You know, like a Gordie Howe hat trick is a goal, an assist, and a fight. We can have a goal, an assist, and a…” He smiled.

Sirius smiled slowly, eyes dark and knowing. “A fuck?”

“Maybe,” Remus grinned as Sirius bent to kiss his neck again.

“What will we call it, eh?” He trailed his fingers lightly over Remus’ sensitive dick, then smoothed a warm thumb over his hip bone.

“Mm…” Remus let his eyes slip closed, tilting his chin up.

“Fruit-loop,” Sirius laughed, then snorted and laughed harder. “Fuck-trick.”

Remus laughed too, and then they were laughing against each other, then kissing, then laughing again.

“I’ll just have to score more goals, then,” Sirius whispered against his mouth.

“I guess so,” Remus said.

(A/N: My prom years have passed, and yet I, too, want Finn O’Hara to be my prom date.

Thank you so much for being patient guys! Also keep an eye out for some news I’ll be posting soon!)

#sweater weather #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #hockey!au #hockey player!sirius #trainer!remus #harry potter #wolfstar smut #wolfstar fluff #the marauders era #sirius/remus #remus/sirius #writing #lumosinlove #hp fic #harry potter fic #wolfstar fic

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Fallen

A03

Logan falls from heaven. Instead of dying, he finds aid from a familiar face.

...

He’s falling.

Crashing, really.

Through the atmosphere, through plains of reality, he’s broken the sound barrier, and he wonders if he’ll ever hit the ground. At this point, he wishes he would, just so the anticipation would be over.

His wings burn and tear and scorch at the edges from the force of the fall. Feathers fly around him, not that they’ll cushion his eventual landing. He can see them blackening at the edges, the wind ripping them to shreds, and it hurts, oh, it hurts.

But he’s numb. Passive. Apathetic, he supposes, is the best word, because what else can he be? There’s no way to stop this, no way to change it, the only thing he can do is give in, and hope that the ground snaps his neck on impact. Otherwise, it will be a slow, painful death.

He would pray for mercy, but there’s not much use for prayer, now.

God won’t answer him.

…

His breath escapes him, his heart stops beating, everything freezes for a just a moment, and it takes his brain a second to catch up with his body, for the agonizing, burning, endless waves of pure excruciation to hit his pain receptors, and he chokes on the torment in his soul.

He tries to move, to sit, to crawl, but he can’t even twitch his fingers, even that burns with the heat of a thousand stars, sends him reeling into a darkness that swallows him whole, and he doesn’t know how long it’s been, when he wakes, days or hours, but the pain hasn’t diminished.

He’s almost grateful he can’t seem to turn his head, because he can’t bear to see the state of his wings, he knows it’s a bad sign that he can’t feel anything at all from them, meaning more than likely they go beyond broken to unsalvageable, and that more than anything breaks him down into a howling, wretched, mess.

He painted the sky, he placed the stars, he wove the cosmos into being, and now he can’t even touch them. Will die here, on this rock hurtling through space, without ever touching his stars again.

And for what?

A couple questions? His curiosity? His desire to discover everything and anything and how it all worked, and why it all worked, and somehow, somehow, that was blasphemy, when it should have been considered the purest kind of love, that he wanted to know the humans better, know their world better, well.

He can feel blood trickling from his mouth, though he doesn’t know if it’s from internal injuries or simply because at some point in the fall he bit his tongue. He’s too tired to care. He’s cold, as well, an unusual feeling, it was never cold in heaven. Even now, his sluggish mind is trying to process the new feeling, trying to determine the consequences, trying to understand, but it was slow.

Everything feels slow.

He barely notices the vibrations against the ground, the footsteps approaching, until the shadow is hovering over him. He barely hears the person whistle lowly. Barely manages to open his eyes for a fleeting second, as he feels himself be moved, picked up, held, and he instinctually presses against the warmth.

“Something did a number on you, didn’t it?” The voice murmurs, rumbling in their chest, a soothing feeling, another thing to catalogue. But he’s already slipping away, as some small movement tweaks his wing joints, and he screams at the electric anguish it sends racing through his veins.

…

Warm.

He is warm.

His entire being pulses with a dull, endless ache. His soul feels ripped to shreds. His heart feels shattered beyond repair.

Yet he’s alive.

The world is a blur. Warm browns and dark woods, something soft and gentle beneath him. Something fluffy and warm wrapped around him. He can feel something wrapped around his chest, something pinning his wings back, trapped and he hisses, tries to pull at the restraints, tries to get free, tries to escape-

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do that.” He freezes at that voice, a blurry shape coming into view, black hair with a white streak, and he recoils, afraid, breath hissing through his teeth at the ache sharpening to a stabbing in his skull. “Sorry, sorry, it’s okay, but, uh, you really need to leave the bandages and stuff alone. One of my friends fixed you all up, I don’t know shit about healing and stuff, but he said if you ever wanna use those again, you gotta let ‘em heal.” His breath hitches at that, and his focus didn’t sharpen, but the ache in his heart did.

“they’re broken. they shattered on impact. Based on my velocity, into a thousand tiny pieces of bone fragments that can’t ever be pieced back together. Not only that, the flesh itself tore apart from the speed and the crash, I can’t feel them. They’re nothing more than useless weights to drag along behind me. I won’t fly again. Don’t lie to me. I’ve already lost everything, don’t lie to me.” His voice is dull and emotionless, his spark is dimmed to an ember, he doesn’t have anything left in him.

“I’m not. I swear, they’re not a lost cause. It won’t be fast, or soon, but he said that you’ll be able to fly again. He’s, uh, not really a human, so, he used some of his voodoo magic or whatever, and it seems to have stuck.” He’s too tired to try and parse out whatever that means, but a kernel of hope is soothing the ache, now, because if he can fly, that’s all he needs, he just needs his wings, and he’ll be able to make it. He just needs the stars.

…

He’s crying.

He doesn’t know why, but tears are slipping down his cheeks, still half dreaming.

He hadn’t thought it would be Patton, who would turn him in. Didn’t think he’d done anything worthy of being turned in for, which was why he hadn’t been afraid. Even as he was standing in front of the council, explaining himself, he hadn’t been afraid.

He’d thought it all a misunderstanding.

Until the clouds parted under him, and sent him hurtling down.

Until Patton said he was sorry, but this was for everyone’s own good.

Until he reached desperately up, expecting someone, anyone, to grab his hand, haul him back up, to say this was wrong, or all a joke, but instead his grasp closed on air, and he fell.

He’s fallen.

That doesn’t hurt. Not really. It’s the betrayal that hurts. That twists like a knife in his side, that stabs him through the heart and breaks him, because how long, how long, how long, had Patton been planning this?

He’d thought Patton was curious, like him, he always listened so attentively, always asked questions, the only one who actually cared about his speculations and interests and studies.

And it had all been a lie.

It would make him angry, if he had anything left in him besides tired, down trodden, defeat.

He should have been smarter than this. He knows how pure Patton sees himself, sees the other angels, sees heaven. He knows how he looks for corruption everywhere, how he supported the flood, but he’d just been glad someone wanted to listen.

And it cost him.

“-been sleeping.”

“Still, I’d like to check on him. Those wounds need redressing.” A new voice, soft and sibilant, soft voice, one he almost recognized, almost remembered, but his memories seem blurry on the subject.

He cracks open his eyes as footsteps approach, the room slightly less blurry, now, he supposes some of the swelling on his face must have gone down, allowing his eyes to open fully.

A face comes into view. One half is covered with golden scales, that trail down from his eyes and extend down his wrist, encasing his hands in their soft shimmer, one eye a snake’s, the other a dark, nearly coal, black, and there’s something strange and graceful and ageless about him.

“serpent.” He greets, voice rasping and whispery, and he sees the figure inhale sharply, take a step back.

“logan. Oh, stars, what did they do to you?” He isn’t sure how the serpent knows his name, but he doesn’t care. His eyes are slipping shut and he doesn’t have the strength to keep them open anymore, he doesn’t care what happens to him, he just wants to sleep and never wake up. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, love. Jussst sssleeep.”

….

Remus watches as Deceit smooths back the winged man’s hair, Logan, he’d said, a strange look on his face, a strange combination of anger and fierce softness.

“You know him.” He says, and Deceit lets out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I know all of them, Remus. I was there when they were made.”

“But you know him, personally.” Deceit’s shoulders tense, but he doesn’t answer, instead shifting his attention back to Logan.

“He’ll be out for a while. He’s exhausted as is, and my influence will keep him that way long enough to do what needs to be done. I’d rather he not be awake, it’s going to hurt considerably rebandaging and preening those wings. You might want to lay down a tarp. This will get messy.”

…

He remembers something.

Distant, hazy, broken pieces of thoughts.

Painting the stars, laughing at something someone else said, someone with a golden glow and long brown locks, hazel eyes alit with the cosmos.

Speaking beneath a tree, well, more of an idea of a tree, a conceptualization of a tree, a fuzzy, hesitant painting of one. They are mapping the sky, planning it out, tracing future constellations.

Patton. Sky blue wings, ripping away the gold. For his own good. Too many questions, too many doubts, too many mistakes, but he wouldn’t let him, he was wrong!

Patton froze. His expression morphed into something cold, something that made him feel something new… fear.

He was afraid as Patton gripped his arm too hard, shoved him back, somehow freezing him in place. Bright light lit the space, Janus screamed, colors flashed, his vision went dark, and everything stopped.

…

He shoots awake.

His wings are still pinned back, but he can feel them, now, a relief, though they ache, yet.

He can hear speaking. He forces himself to his feet, nearly tumbling over at the dull wash of pain, at the unbalanced weight of his wings behind him, which would usually help steady him or be tucked primly back, now hindered by splints and bandages. His head swims, so full of memories and shifting images and he needs to get there, needs to reach him, so he forces himself forwards, leaning heavily against the walls, until he reaches a doorway, trips over a rug, and goes falling to the floor.

Impact never comes, someone swears, and catches him, and he opens his eyes to those mismatched ones, so strange, but so familiar, and he doesn’t hesitate, now, to throw his arms around him, and cry.

“I know, darling. It hurts. But it will be alright.” Janus murmurs to him, clearly mistaking his anguish as being borne of his fall, or his wounds, and he shakes as he feels him card a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” He manages, through great, gasping heaves of air.

“shh, there’s nothing to apologize for, love.” He’s so kind, even now, he’s so kind, even when Janus thinks he doesn’t know him, doesn’t recognize him, even when Logan is simply another fallen angel, and Janus is supposed to be the tempting serpent, he’s kind, and it’s such a Janus way to spite Patton, who turned him into this, into the face of deception and trickery, accidentally giving him the keys to all the knowledge he’d ever sought.

“my fault. You f-fell and it’s m-my fault. Patton did this to you, b-because I said he was wrong, he did this to you, and then he m-made me f-forget.” He stutters, feeling Janus freeze, his breath caught in his throat, and a hand is tilting up his chin, to meet those endless eyes.

“what did you say? What… this is a trick. A trap. A ploy. He wouldn’t-“ He cuts off Janus, pressing their lips together, closing the space between them, and Janus is suddenly holding him close, desperate for his warmth, and he very nearly laughs at the joy surging through him as they part.

“Janus. You are Janus. The serpent of Eden, the guardian of knowledge, everything Patton did to hurt you only made you stronger, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have fought harder, I should have remembered, I shouldn’t have let him continue to use me, I should have known-“

“you can’t know everything, love. His power is strong, he’s ruled as a tyrant for so long, I’m… I didn’t expect you to remember, ever.” Janus murmurs, gaze roving over every inch of his face, his hands caressing his arms, as if once he stopped, Logan would vanish. “I’ve missed you.” Janus presses another kiss to Logan's lips. “I looked at the stars every night, remembering you. I’m sorry for the pain, but I’m selfishly not sorry you fell, not when it means you’re here with me.”

“I’m not either. I’m not sorry. I’m so proud of you, Janus. I…” his voice breaks, and he buries his head against Janus's chest. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling dearest.”

“I'm sorry. He took the sky from you. I’m sorry.” He cries softly, feeling Janus rock him.

“it doesn’t matter. You’ll still have them. And I have you. That’s what matters, Logan. You are my stars. You are my universe, and Patton failed, because we are together, and that is all I’ve ever dreamed.”

They stay like that, holding each other, whispering memories and I love yous and kissing for a long time, drowning in each other until the sun set and the stars rose.

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tumblebee-the-smol-bean · 4 years

Note

hey, if you're not too busy, maybe secretly regressor logan getting so overstressed from planner changes and schedules that he slips right in front of roman in his room???💕

Thank you so much for the prompt first of all! I’m sorry it took me so long to answer.

Too much work, not enough sleep

Cg Roman Regressor Logan

Logan tapped his pencil against his glasses. He was so tired but also so close to being done with Thomas’s schedule. He took a second to look up from his work to the clock and sighed, he’d been working for well over fourteen hours now, but it was fine, he didn’t technically need food, even if he was really craving some Crofters right now...NO. No that could wait until he finished the schedule and he was almost done, he just needed to- “Hello your royal nerdness!” Great, Roman had dropped in and now he was interrupting Logan’s work. Just what he needed right now. He rolled his eyes and tried not to scream at Princey to just leave him alone. Instead he said in a calm voice, “I am quite busy at the moment Roman. Please take your business elsewhere for now.”

Roman scoffed and Logan flinched a bit. “Well you don’t have to be so rude about it. I just came to tell you that the plan for next week is changing.”

Logan froze. No. NO. he couldn’t have said that. He was so close to being done he wanted to cry. Big boys don’t cry, he tried to remind himself. Big Logan had to fix this, he couldn’t afford to cry and regress and throw a tantrum over a simple schedule change, Even if that’s exactly what he wanted to do. Besides, Roman was right there, he could control this, he had to. So he sighed and turned to him, setting down his pencil. “What nature of schedule changes are we talking about?”

Roman grinned and plopped a few scattered pages of what looked more to be doodles than written out plans.

“Well I’m just so glad you asked! You see Thomas has just been so bored lately and that is no fun at all, especially not for me, so I decided we’re going to enter daydream mode a few times to help solve this pesky little problem! Oh! I’m also helping him come up with a new song, it’s going to be sooooo good when we’re done!”

As Roman rambled on Logan became more and more frantic, shuffling through his papers and Roman’s doodles and trying to figure out where to put them. No, no no nononononono. This would shake up the entire schedule! He’d have to completely re-write the planner!

He tugged at his hair in frustration as tears welled up in his eyes and he began to feel himself slip. NO. not right now! Never in front of the others!

Roman paused his rant when he saw that Logan was obviously distressed. “Logan, are you alright? You look upset.” “FINE!” Logan managed as he tried to usher Roman out the door. “M’ fine! Go ‘way!”

Roman definitely wasn’t leaving now. Logan seemed really upset. He turned back around instead of going out the door like Logan clearly wanted him to. “Pocket protector you do not seem to be ‘gucci’ so to speak are you sure-”

And thats when Logan broke. It was all too much and the stress of the last several hours along with his exhaustion and sudden panic over the new planner changes and not being able to get Roman to leave crashed down on him and he fully regressed. “GO ‘WAY!” he screeched before crumpling into a ball on the floor and beginning to sob.

“Whoa!” Roman quickly shut the door behind him, figuring Logan wouldn’t want the others to see him like this but he didn’t leave. Logan clearly needed some help. Instead he crouched down next to him and rested a hand on his back.

“Logan what’s the matter?” he asked softly, trying to figure out the root of the problem so he could fix it. But Logan only wailed harder. “S-S-so many changes! nd’ you not supposed to be here when m’ like this!”

Roman was puzzled, why was Logan talking like that? He was normally extremely well spoken and used big words Roman didn’t even understand half the time.

“What do you mean’like this’?” he asked instead of commenting on his speech.

“Like...like when m’ small.” he sniffled and clung onto Roman, his small side winning over and just wanting comfort and affection and to forget about all the stressful stuff big him had to deal with.

“When you’re....Oooh...” Roman was finally struck with the realization of what was going on.

“Are you regressed Lolo?”

Logan looked up in shock before slowly nodding his head. How had Roman known? he hadn’t even known before he practically broke his computer doing research on it.

Roman smiled. “That’s alright bud, Janus regresses too and sometimes I help Remus look after him. Do you want me to watch you for a bit?”

Logan was trying to take in several peices of information at once. One, Roman didn’t think this was weird. Two, Janus regressed as well, and three....Roman...was offering to look after him? He had always had what if thoughts in regards to having someone to act as a caretaker towards him when regressed but he normally pushed them aside and ignored them. Afterall, who would want to watch him?

But here Roman was, soft smile and outstretched hand and Logan couldn’t help but to launch himself into his waiting arms and whisper sniffle, “Really?”

Roman cocked his head to the side and smoothed down Logan’s hair, “Really buddy, I don’t mind.” he smiled and the answer caused Logan to practically melt out of sheer happiness. “Can you tell me how old you are though so I know how to take care of you?” Roman had only ever helped out Remus when watching Jan but had never done this on his own. However he did remember that Janus had an age range he could regress within that often changed, and with it how Remus took care of him did as well.

Logan has to think for a second. It’s rather hard for him to tell sometimes, but Roman is patient and eventually he held up three fingers.

“You’re three?” he asked to double check, Logan nodded softly but didn’t say anything else, still a bit shy.

Roman smiled wide and hefted him up into his arms. causing him to squeal in surprise that soon morphed into excitement.

“Can you tell me what made you regress little prince?” he asked first and foremost. Janus sometimes regressed just for fun but he could be triggered sometimes when he was upset and considering Logan’s outburst Roman assumed it was the later.

Logan cooed happily at the nickname before frowning a bit and whining softly, pressing his face into Roman’s tunic.

“Lots a work...almos finish nd’ then it changed!” he sounded really upset and Roman realized his fault.

He rubbed Logan’s back and sighed. “I’m sorry little one, I should have talked to you before, we can save the daydreaming for next week.” The longer he looked at Logan’s papers he started to realize he hadn’t seen him out all day.

“Sweet little prince,” he began, successfully gaining Logan’s attention. “Have you been working all day? I didn’t see you come down to eat.”

Logan nodded. “Fouwteen hours, twenty seven minutes nd six seconds”

Roman tried and failed not to look shocked. “Well we can’t have that! That’s much too long for little princes to be working!”

Logan looks surprised at this, he always worked like that. Coffee, computer, three or four hours of sleep and a small snack then repeat. “i’ is?”

Roman shook his head he was definitely going to have a talk with big Logan about his work habits. “Yes, but we can talk about it more when you’re big again, for now we need to get some food in you.”

He makes sure Logan is well supported before carrying him downstairs, luckily it was late so Logan didn’t make a fuss like he would have had he thought there was a possibility of anyone seeing him while regressed. Instead he just swung his feet when Roman sat him on the counter to open up the fridge and looked around. He wasn’t usually in the rest of the mindscape when he was small. Stay in his room and his secret stayed hidden. He only came out when he needed to use the restroom and even then it was a mad dash.

Roman finished preparing some mac n cheese for him and set it down in front of him along with one of Jan’s old sippy cups that he didn’t tend to use, but it was decorated in stars and planets and seemed perfect for Logan.

He looked at it for a second before bouncing excitedly when he saw the space pattern “Staws!”

“Yes baby, stars.” Roman chuckled before kissing his forehead and taking him to the table to eat.

He was still a bit shy to use his sippy cup in front of Roman but he assured Logan that he’d seen Janus use them a billion times and sometimes even bottles when he was very tiny so he shrugged and drank the juice contents. He also ate his macaroni and made a bit of a mess but Roman just cleaned it up with a small smile.

“Alright Star, I think it’s bedtime for you.” he tutted as he scooped him up.

“Noooooooo, don wanna sleep.” Apparently big Logan and small Logan had that in common.

“Yeeeeeeeeees” Roman replied as he carried him up to his room. “little boys need their sleep and I happen to know that this little boy hasn’t slept alot as of late.”

Logan grumbled but relented, Roman wasn’t wrong and he was really tired, he stifled a small yawn. He still saw it however and hummed with a smile. Logan really was adorable.

When they reached his room he set him on the bed and tilted his head, Logan tilted his back, mirroring Roman which was so adorable he almost cooed. instead he snapped his fingers. “Ah, I know what’s missing” He snapped again and Logan was dressed in soft pajamas with planets and galaxies adorning them. The small side pet the soft fabric in awe and his eyes lit up at the planets. “Thank you Roro!” he half whispered, still engrossed in his new pj’s. The prince chuckled “of course little astronaut, I’m not done though, you can’t very well go to sleep without a soft cuddle buddy now can you?” and suddenly Logan was holding a star plush, it was almost half his size and impossibly squishy. Needless to say he loved it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“No problem little one.” came the chuckled reply as Roman tucked him into bed. “now try and get some sleep”

Roman went to turn out the lights but Logan spoke up softly one last time,

“Roro?”

“Yes my little prince?”

“You be my cuddle buddy too?”

Roman smiled and slid under the covers, snuggling Logan (Platonically or I’ll stomp you with my hooves)

“of course star.”

#Age Regression #sfw age regression #agere sfw #sanders sides agere #logan sanders #roman sanders #caregiver roman #agere logan

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minniethemoocherda · 4 months

Text

Stay With Me

A/N: I cannot thank you all enough for all the support you guys have given me in response to my Morpherine fics! It has been completely insane especially all your incredible comments as well as all the amazing art over on tumblr! If it wasn't for you guys then I probably wouldn't feel as inspired to keep writing these fics so again thank you all so much!!!! Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

"NOOOOO!" Morph screamed as they woke up to find themselves sitting in a puddle of their own sweat and gloop.

They screamed again their bedroom door was broken down.

"What's wrong?" Logan demanded, claws drawn and body tensed ready to pounce.

"You giving me a fucking heart attack!" Morph cried, firing a pillow across the room.

Logan slashed through the first, but the second that Morph had launched a moment later hit him square in the face.

Morph was too riled up to feel any satisfaction at that fact.

"What are you even doing here?" Morph asked, feeling their body finally fully solidify back to its normal shape under the fabric of their oversized t-shirt.

"I heard you talkin' in your sleep." Logan grumbled.

"From all the way on the other side of the mansion?" Morph said pointedly, since they both knew that Morph knew that Logan's super-hearing didn't work that well.

That was when Morph realised that Logan was still wearing his uniform despite the fact that it was- Morph checked the alarm clock besides them- three o'clock in the morning.

"Do you want to tell me why you're not in bed?" Morph asked.

"No." Logan replied.

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

Logan sat himself in front of the remains of the doorway, watchful eyes glaring into the corridor outside.

"No."

"Do you want to come to bed?" Morph asked, which was something that if it were not three o'clock in the morning, Morph would never have asked.

After a moment's pause Logan again replied "No."

Morph sighed. The adrenaline of waking up from a nightmare and having their room being broken into was wearing off and now they just wanted to go back to sleep.

So they grabbed the duvet, sheets and blanket from their bed and carried them over to where Logan was apparently determined to stay on guard all night.

"What're you doin'?" Logan grumbled as Morph arranged the bedsheets around him.

"We are having a sleepover." Morph stated. "And I'm getting the pillow since you broke my other one."

Morph lay down on the duvet they'd placed on the floor, facing away from Logan into their room. The Wolverine still had his claws out but he didn't otherwise complain as Morph threw one of the sheets over the pair of them.

After a long time, long enough for Morph to think they might have made a mistake, Logan growled out a sigh.

"After we heard about Genosha I... I couldn't...I've been patrolling the halls all night-I just... I can't loose anyone else I care about." Logan growled, grief stumbling his words.

Slowly so as not to startle him, Morph sat back up. Logan was still facing away from them, never one to let other's see his weaknesses, but by now they had become experts at reading The Wolverine's behaviour. And they knew from the forceful shivers raking his body that Logan was literally biting back tears.

In that moment Morph would have done anything to help. But without the ability to change reality, there was little they could do. But that didn't mean that there was nothing.

Morph placed their hand on Logan's shoulder, his muscles taunt to the point Morph was worried they might snap. They squeezed their hand, hoping to share their own grief and to shoulder some of it for him.

Morph had never been on this side of loosing an X-men before. A stab of guilt as sharp as The Wolverine's claws buried its way into their stomach, at the thought that their own death could have caused the same amount of pain.

When they had learnt about Gambit's death, the only comparable pain Morph had felt was when they themselves had died. The concept that they would never again share each other's love for cooking or that they would never loose another heavily rigged card game, was impossible to comprehend. They weren't as close to Gambit as they could have been, however, as the only other openly queer person on the team, there had been a special connection between the two of them.

And Morph might not have shared the same history with Magneto that the other's had. The only reason they'd had to hate to him was that he was a generally shitty person who'd done some pretty shitty things. But when Morph had offered to take the team to Sinister's lair, he had been kind to them, making it clear that they did not have to if it brought back too many bad memories. And because of that, they couldn't help but grieve for him too.

And if Logan could finally open up, then it was only fair that Morph did the same.

"I.. I was dreaming... about that night."

They both knew what night Morph was talking about. The one where Morph was about to watch The Wolverine die and they sacrificed themselves to save him. Except in their dream there were too late. They lost him. Just like they lost Magneto. Like they lost Remy.

Because whilst being under Sinister's control was hell on earth, they would suffer through it all again if it meant that Logan was alive to lie beside them.

"I ain't lettin' nothin' get past me." Logan promised, finally turning to them. The grief was still there, it would probably never fully go away, but the pain that had been etched into the grooves of his skin, had been transformed into a steely determination.

"I know." Morph smiled, even after everything, unable to stop the fluttering if their heart at the sight of Logan's protectiveness directed at them. "And I'm not letting anything get past me either."

Feeling emboldened, from where their hand had been placed on Logan's shoulder, Morph traced his collar bone until their hand cupped the back of his neck.

"But even if you don't plan on sleeping, I have it on the trusted authority of my ex-therapist, that just lying down can help. So please, lay down for me." Morph's smile turned into a smirk. "I'll even let you share the pillow."

Logan blinked before shaking his head and snorting a smirk of his own.

"Alright, you win this one bub." He conceded, finally putting his claws away as he allowed Morph to pull him down to the pillow.

Morph reluctantly let go as they turned away from Logan to face the inside of their room, whilst The Wolverine took after his namesake and proceeded to nestle himself a den out of the bedsheets.

Now Morph hadn't really thought about the physics of sharing a pillow when they'd made the offer, as usual too preoccupied with making a joke to think about the consequences of opening their big mouth.

Because Logan's back was now placed firmly against theirs and the thin layer of his uniform was doing little to hide the solid layer muscle or stop the furnace level heat that his body was projecting. And due to his previous shuffling, the bottom of Morph's t-shirt had ridden up so that the sliver of skin between their briefs and their shirt could feel the full heat of Logan's body. It wasn't as if they hadn't touched the other before, But never that part of their body and even though the exposed skin was barely a few inches, Morph felt near naked at the touch.

They had no idea how they were supposed to go to sleep now. But eventually they must have.

Because next time Morph opened their eyes morning sun was beaming through their bedroom windows. At least that was where they assumed the light was coming from, as all they could see was the sleeping face of The Wolverine.

For a moment, Morph thought that they were still dreaming. Until they felt the breeze of Logan's breathe against the expanse of skin where their nose would have been.

As Morph blinked away sleep, they realised that the groves of anger and pain that Morph thought had been permanently etched onto Logan's face were relaxed, not completely gone but as close to peaceful as he could get.

They also realised that Logan's limbs were wrapped around their body like a koala in a tree as though he was afraid that if he didn't hold on tight enough he would fall. As a result Morph's hands, which had been trapped between the two of them, were braced against Logan's chest. Through the soft fabric of his costume, Morph could feel the individual bristles of his hair and under that the beating of his heart.

Perhaps they had died again, except this time they'd ended up in heaven instead of hell. That was the only logical explanation they could think of for why Logan would be holding them so close.

Well if this was their fate then Morph was happy to accept it, not that they were able to escape The Wolverine's grasp even if they wanted to. So with one last lingering look at the soft strokes of Logan's face, Morph drifted back off to sleep.

#morpherine #x men 97 #morph #wolverine #morph x wolverine #morph x logan #the wolverine #x men #morph x men #james logan howlett #logan howlett #gambit #magneto #kevin sydney

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tempesrature · 4 years

Text

Of The Standard Of Taste: Logan and Memes

Pairing: Ride or Die | Ellie x Logan Summary: Logan has a terrible taste in memes and Ellie wants to help him. (A very loose continuation of Communication Degree. But if you don’t want to read that, all you need to know is Ellie and Logan live together and Ellie has a Professor that she hates.) Word Count: 1,924 Warnings: None. Just the buffoonery that I come up with. This is terrible and self-indulgent because I just want some stupid domestic fluff for my two idiots. A/N: I feel like Logan’s relevant character flaw has to be that he’s probably not too knowledgeable with pop culture and memes (on the run most of his life, has no real need for it, etc) so...here you go. I also reread Hume’s “Of The Standard of Taste” just in case I get into a tussle with Philosophy nerds over my usage of the title (you can fight me but I’ll lose, I didn’t understand much). Also, please forgive me for my poor editing, I may be a millennial but I run on boomer batteries. Happy RoDAW everyone! @rodappreciationweek @troublemakerinspace ~*~

In the silent space of the Langston library, Ellie’s phone pings on her desk and her eyes flit to the device. The name on her screen immediately pulls a wide smile on her lips as she picks up the phone and checks to see what he has sent her. Once she sees the picture, her face falls and she immediately groans before she puts the phone back on her desk.

“Woah, bad news?”

Ellie turns to look at Brooke, her friend and partner for the paper they’re currently working on, before Ellie shakes her head with a small sigh.

“It’s Logan.”

Brooke furrows her eyebrows, squinting lightly at Ellie. “And that’s bad because…?”

Ellie sighs before she picks up her phone and hands it to Brooke. Brooke raises a curious eyebrow before she takes the phone and looks at the screen. Her face morphs into a string of emotions—shock, laughter, cringe—before it settles into pity. “The boy’s taste in memes are terrible.”

“It’s not his fault,” Ellie quickly defends, taking the phone back and staring at the picture that Logan sent her.

“It’s his first Pictagram account and he’s still figuring things out,” Ellie explains as she gives his picture a heart. “You know, developing his standard of taste.”

“From what? The 2010’s?” Brooke cackles as she takes Ellie’s phone, scrolling up their conversation before she bursts into muffled chuckles. “Look at your replies! ‘That’s great baby, it’s really funny’, you sound like his mom!”

Ellie scowls and snatches back her phone, putting it face down on the desk. “He’s trying okay? I think it’s sweet that he sends me memes he finds funny.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that,” Brooke snickers before she rolls her eyes at the annoyed look on Ellie’s face. “El, just like…send him better memes. It’s not that hard.”

“I tried!” Ellie groans again, pushing her fingers to her temple as she stares at the wooden surface of the desk in dismay. “But memes nowadays need so much context! How will he understand when he’s still catching up on so much of pop culture—” Ellie pauses, an idea swirling in her mind. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Brooke frowns, furrowing her eyebrows. She is scarily aware of Ellie’s face when she starts to plot. “Unless what El?”

“I have an idea,” Ellie declares, quickly gathering her things and dumping them into her backpack as she grabs her phone off of the table. “I’ll send you my part tonight, bye!”

Ellie quickly throws a wave goodbye at the confused looking Brooke as she heads back to the apartment before Logan arrives. Her mind already turning and plotting on how she’ll efficiently enact her plan.

~*~

Logan carefully balances the bag of groceries in one arm as he walks up the stairs, his eyes glued to his phone. He knows he should be more careful, Ellie has already chastised him about using his phone while walking up the stairs to their apartment, but he finds it difficult to pull his eyes away from the endless scroll of memes on his Pictagram feed. Many of which he’s already saved because he plans to send them to Ellie sometime tomorrow during his break.

Logan gives one last double tap of his phone screen to a particularly funny meme when he reaches the door of their apartment before he places his phone in his back pocket. He moves the grocery bag to his other arm before fishing out his keys and inserting it into the doorknob. He hasn’t even fully opened the door when he hears Ellie calling out his name from the living room. A smile pulls at his lips at the sound. Even if it’s been months, he still can’t shake the feeling of utter content at the reality of her waiting for him in their apartment. A scenario he’s only ever imagined in his most indulgent dreams.

“Just a sec trouble. I’m taking off my shoes,” He calls out toeing his sneakers off and kicking it to the side before he walks to the living room with a wide grin. Ellie excitedly greets him with a hug and he easily returns it with a one arm hug.

“Welcome back,” She greets, leaning up to kiss his cheek before she takes the grocery bag in his arm and whisks it away to the small kitchenette in their apartment.

Logan follows behind her, the wide grin still present on his face, as he leans on the refrigerator. He silently watches her place the bag on the counter, start to pull out the groceries and flit by cabinets and shelves to put away the cans and bottles. His heart feels full and sated, the picture of her seeming to bring about emotions that’s both strange and welcomed. Strange in a way that he never thought that this could be his life and welcomed in way that he’s grateful that this is his life.

Ellie pulls out the carton of milk and turns to him, grinning in amusement at the soft and warm look so prominent on his face. An expression she’s seen on him a multitude of times in the time they’ve started living together. She quickly shoos him away from the refrigerator door and Logan merely chuckles as he moves away, placing a passing kiss to her temple before he makes his way to the living room.

His eyes immediately latch on to the papers and books scattered on the coffee table (not an unusual sight) as her laptop lay on the center of the couch. He gently pushes the laptop to the side, careful not to accidentally move anything from its original place as he drops down on the couch and pulls out his phone.

“Are you making another report for Professor Hardass, El?” Logan calls out, absentmindedly scrolling through his Pictagram feed.

“Huh? Oh…no. Actually,” Ellie answers back before she walks back into the living room. She grabs her laptop, balancing it on one hand, as she scrolls up and starts the presentation. “It’s for you.”

Logan pauses before he looks up at her in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Ellie plops down next to him and sets her laptop on his lap, angling the screen to him as the title ‘Important Points in the History of Pop Culture and its Relevance on Memes’ flashes in big black text and stares back at him.

Logan blinks once, twice. His brain frying as he tries to decipher what she just presented him. “I don’t understand Ellie.”

Ellie nods, expecting this reaction before she clears her throat. Her voice takes on the tone she always uses when she presents her reports as she starts the plan that she has been preparing for since she arrived in the apartment three hours ago.

“You see Logan, I love you and I care about you a lot—”

“—this sounds like a break up speech.”

“And,” Ellie emphasizes with a grin, lightly hitting his arm as he looks back at her with a teasing smile. “And I want you to get a better sense of what memes are popular and funny right now.”

Logan opens his mouth, closes it and frowns. Finally picking up what she’s hinting on. “The memes I send you aren’t funny?”

“Oh baby they are,” She leans forward, placing gentle hand on his arm as she tries to keep her voice loving and sympathetic when she delivers the devastating truth. “But like…funny if its ten years ago.”

Logan blinks, pausing for a moment, before a burst of laughter escapes him. Ellie frowns at his reaction and he shakes his head, turning away from her as he muffles his laughter behind his hand. He really didn’t mean to laugh. But the image of his girlfriend, the love of his life, hunkering down and taking a considerable amount of her time and day just to create a presentation to teach him about memes of all things creates a feeling inside him that he’s never felt before.

In his most vulnerable and loneliest nights, he went through a list of the most domestic and romantic what-ifs with her—already resigned that they would never be his reality—that ranged from the simple to the ridiculous but sitting down on the couch of their apartment learning about memes through a PowerPoint presentation from her was something that never crossed his mind.

But somehow, this is the one that hits him the hardest. This is the one that makes him imagine a life beyond their tiny apartment. A house, a dog, kids’ maybe…all of it. If it’s with Ellie Wheeler, he’s ready to want it all.

“Okay troublemaker,” He finally says, turning back to her with a wide grin. “Or should I call you professor now?”

“Behave,” She admonishes playfully before she scoots closer to him and lays her head on his shoulder. He easily wraps one arm around her waist, his hand settling on her hips as he leans his head on top of hers and waits patiently for her presentation.

Ellie immediately launches into her first slide and Logan listens intently, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing nonsense circles on her skin over her pajamas.

As the minutes pass, it leaves him in awe at how much effort and love has gone into this presentation just for him. There are pictures, gifs, and videos all for him and he’s willing to admit that his feed seems to pale in comparison. She goes through the resilience of SpongeBob memes and the “rickroll”, the diversity of Kermit the frog memes, and the brief and fleeting existence of Vine memes. And she laughs and cringes at the particularly older ones and he laughs and takes note at the particularly funny ones as the late afternoon slowly stretches into evening.

By the end of it, she’s cuddled up next to him, her laptop laying open on top of her books on the coffee table, as they both scroll through a better array of pages for him to follow on Pictagram to broaden and expand his taste of memes. They laugh, talk, and tease each other under the dim lights of their tiny apartment and Logan can’t help but feel the kind of warmth and happiness that settle and seep right down to his bones.

~*~

Brooke bursts out in laughter but quickly clamps her mouth shut to avoid disturbing the other students in the library. “I can’t believe you did that! You gotta give me the file!”

Ellie smiles in triumph, crossing her arms in front of her as she leans back on her chair. “Laugh all you want. If it worked then I’m the real winner here.”

Brooke shakes her head in amusement, looking at Ellie with a teasing look. “If? So you haven’t seen the results yet?”

Ellie opens her mouth, ready to reply, when right on cue her phone pings on the desk next to her books. She picks it up when she sees the flash of his name on the screen and she smiles. Her eyes land on the latest picture he’s sent her, her heart squeezing in an ache so powerful she clutches the phone to her chest as she falls forward on the desk with a helpless groan and a silly smile. Brooke sees her reaction and chuckles before she reaches out her hand.

“Give me, I wanna see too.”

Ellie hands the phone to her and Brooke’s eyes land on the picture and she grimaces.

“Now he’s just being cheesy,” Brooke comments dryly.

“He’s too good,” Ellie laments helplessly, lifting her head off of the table with a huge grin. “I made him too powerful.”

Brooke rolls her eyes as she hands Ellie her phone back. “Can we please just finish this paper today?”

“Fine, fine,” Ellie takes her phone back and quickly types out a message and finds a photo before she hits send. She places the phone back on the desk and goes back to working on her part of the paper with a smile she can’t seem to wipe away even if she tried.

#rodaw #rod #logan x mc #logan x ellie #i wont sit on my high horse and mock logan #because i too unironically loved these memes in the past #choices rod #my writing

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jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 12

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 12!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “You are all insane,” Everleigh declared blankly.

“We are perfectly sane,” Logan replied.

Remus shrugged. “Well, sane enough...”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

12 | Searching

“No! We can’t just close it!”

“Virgil, there’s nothing we can do.”

“We could find the miracle.”

“That’s an impossible quest and you know it.”

“But there is a chance.”

After Remy told Tanya they needed to close the porthole, Virgil had snapped and was now fighting to keep it open. No one else dared to speak up while the pair argued over the matter. Instead, they just stood to the side, watching with growing anxiety over what the outcome would be.

“If you leave it open then that earl will attack.”

“Not if we find the-”

“There’s nothing you can do, why can’t you accept that?”

The room fell into near-complete silence as everyone waited for Virgil’s reaction. For the moment, he was just standing there stone-faced and staring at Remy. Remy looked uncharacteristically angry. Honestly, the students had seen him upset but never this upset. Still, Virgil just watched him.

“...There is something I can do. That’s why I won’t give up on them.”

Remy’s expression morphed into empathy and regret as he realised what he meant. To Virgil, closing the porthole meant giving up. It meant letting his grandmother die alone in that tower. It meant abandoning an entire realm, a race of people, to a power-hungry usurper. It meant accepting that there was nothing more he could do. And Virgil couldn’t do that.

Before Remy could apologise though, Virgil’s wings sprouted from his back and he flew away. The others were simply left in shock to absorb the meaning of his words.

Remy sighed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Tanya shrugged. “You could have been a tad more… understanding, but he does need to understand that what he’s suggesting is far too dangerous.”

“...I should go after him-”

“Or maybe it’s better if we go,” Janus interjected, gesturing to the class. “He’s been through a lot. He might not be ready to forgive you just yet.”

Logan nodded. “We’ll make sure he’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“The best thing for Virgil right now would be comfort. You can counsel him later,” Willow said.

Remy sighed and nodded defeatedly. Logan then led Janus, Willow, Patton, Remus, and Roman to where he remembered Virgil’s room was. Or where he hoped was Virgil’s room. He’d been quite overwhelmed last time he was here so he was only 92% sure they were at the right door. Before any of them could knock though, Virgil opened the door and looked like he was leaving with a bag full of supplies.

Logan frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Uh… nowhere.”

“Lying to your friends now, eh? And here we were coming to comfort you,” Janus remarked.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “I won’t be talked out of it.”

“Who said we’re here to talk you out of it?” Remus refuted.

“Are you going to try finding the miracle? By yourself?” Patton questioned.

“Maybe…” Virgil muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, you can forget that idea. Because we’re coming with you.” Roman declared.

Virgil looked at the group disbelievingly.

“Come on man, we were ready to follow you into a realm of magic and mystery. We’re not letting you drop us that easily.” Willow remarked.

“Are you guys sure?”

Logan nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re here for you. To support any way we can.”

“Thanks, guys. Now, I’m not sure how to sneak us all out of here.”

“Have you forgotten about magic? We can make a porthole.” Janus reminded him.

“Where to go though?” Roman asked.

“Everleigh,” Willow said. “She should know about or have access to some maps that can help us find the Miracle sooner.”

Logan nodded. “She should actually be at the library working right now. I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

---

“You are all insane,” Everleigh declared blankly.

“We are perfectly sane,” Logan replied.

Remus shrugged. “Well, sane enough...”

“Please Ev,” Willow begged with puppy eyes.

Everleigh squirmed. “Don’t do that face, it makes me agree to anything and you know it.”

“Please~”

“You guys know the Miracle hasn’t been seen in like three thousand years, right? How are you even sure it’s alive?”

“The dream said we needed to find the Miracle, so it must be alive,” Janus stated.

“Come on, Everleigh, this is an important mission. The lives of thousands hang in the balance.” Roman declared.

Everleigh huffed. “Pure pressure and pleading are not going to work, no matter how good you all are at it.”

Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Please. If not for thousands of lives then just for the Queen’s life. She doesn’t deserve the fate she’s facing.”

Everleigh looked at him then glanced at Virgil for a split second before looking at Logan again. “What was she like?”

“Surprisingly held together for someone near their death. She acted quite strong and accepted that this was the end for her, but… her eyes… They were full of mourning. Full of fear. It reminded me of my mom…”

“I’m sorry you had to see her like that,” Virgil said. “My gran and your mom.”

Logan smiled weakly. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Everleigh sighed. “Fine. I’ll help you guys. But I’m coming too.”

“It will be dan-”

“Dangerous, I know, but if you don’t let me come along then you’re not going either. Someone needs to keep you all from being completely reckless.”

Logan chuckled. “Fair enough. Welcome to the team, Ev.”

After convincing Everleigh to help them, the team jumped straight into analyzing everything known about the Miracle for clues about it. The main problem was that any primary information was thousands of years old and therefore kept away in the restricted area of the library. This meant that only Everleigh, with her apprenticeship, could read through those articles.

The others didn’t stay idle while she did that though. They took to looking through what was available to the public. By sunset, Virgil was starting to worry about Remy coming to look for them, but that was when Everleigh came through.

“I found something!” She exclaimed. A nearby co-worker shushed her, but she paid them no mind. “Here, check this out.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Volume three of the Quest of Nigel Hawk? What does that have to do with our search?”

“Okay, so I was looking at the primary accounts from people who had met or knew the Miracle. They don’t normally describe it, but those who did, mentioned things like bright silver eyes, dark skin, and feathery wings. It reminded me of one of Nigel’s stories, the one where ze sails to the Misted Isles,” Everleigh explained, opening the book and searching through the pages for whatever she’d found. “Uhhhhh, here! Look at this sketch.”

She turned the book around for everyone to see, and featured on the page was indeed a lovely black and white sketch of a human-like creature. Its skin was shaded dark and its eyes were a light colour that could be silver, and on its back, there were two sets of wings.

Remus tilted his head to the side. “Isn’t that Nitya, the stranger that Nigel met at the harbour?”

“Yes. Nitya and Nigel were both looking to go on an adventure somewhere. Or rather Nigel was looking to go on an adventure and needed a friend for the journey. Nitya happened to be staying at the same inn as zem and the two decided to go together to the Misted Isle. Except, Nitya never returned, Nigel wrote ‘on the day we were meant to sail back to the mainland, Nitya and I were standing together on the beach watching the sunrise. It looked at me and said it would be staying here. It felt that this was the perfect place to spend the rest of its time.’”

“So then, the Miracle aka Nitya is on the Misted Isle. We must go there at once!” Roman enthused.

“How? We can’t make portholes to places we haven’t been, and none of us exactly own a ship.” Janus pointed out.

“Could we make one?” Patton wondered. “I mean, theoretically, by using our magic we could make anything. So, why not a ship to get us to the misted isle?”

Remus lit up. “That’s a perfect idea, Pat! We can’t teleport all the way to the isle, but we could at least get to the harbour. Roman and I were there when we sailed over from Lyrecrest.”

“And using my proficiency in plant magic, I could grow a tree into the perfect shape of a ship,” Roman added.

“Well then, is there anything we need before we go?” Willow asked.

“Food and fresh water, plus maybe a change of clothes, just in case,” Remus listed.

“Alright then, let’s get everything so we can go!”

Following this, the team split up, Everleigh went to her house to get the things, while the others used portholes to grab things from their rooms. While Logan was getting his things together, he felt a sense of unease settle in his gut as he thought about his dad. Sure, Emile had agreed to him going to the fae realm, but going to the Misted Isle was a whole different thing. He decided that he could at least drop by to fill him in, and made a porthole to his room back at the bakery.

Once he stepped through and looked around, he felt a twinge of nostalgia. The room was just the same as he had left it. Still neat and tidy as it had been when he left all those months ago for his first day at the manor. While he knew it hadn’t been all that long ago, he still felt as if it were a distant memory. Gods know he’s made so many more since.

As he was about to open his door, he heard his father speaking, “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Ems, no offence, but I just lost seven kids. Including the freaking crown prince! I can’t calm down.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Remy.”

“But what if they aren’t? What if they run into assassins? Or monsters? Or monster assassins?!”

“Rem-”

“Oh gods! How am I going to explain to Joan that I lost Thomas’s only kid? The heir to the throne!”

“Re-”

“And the other parents. One of them is a freaking dragon! They’ll roast me. Literally!”

“R-”

“What if they end up starving to death? Or getting overly dehydrated? Or poisoned?!”

“Remy!” There was a moment of silence as Emile walked to where Remy was. “I understand. I’m worried about them too. I don’t know what kind of parent wouldn’t be. But you need to calm down dear. Stress isn’t going to help us find them any sooner.”

“...Do you really think they’ll be fine?”

“They do seem to have a… skill for finding trouble. But they always get themselves out of it in the end.”

Remy sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

Quietly, Logan stepped over to his desk and wrote a note for the two adults. Then, he made sure to make a noise that would cause them to come and check the room before he left again through the porthole. He felt guilty for the anxiety he was putting them through, but he hoped that the letter would ease some of their concerns.

---

“You told them where we’re headed?”

“Only that we’ve figured out where and are going to find the Miracle,” Logan replied.

Virgil nodded. He had been feeling a bit guilty about leaving the adults in the dark, so Logan leaving an explanation at the very least eased his conscience. “Well, looks like there’s no turning back now.”

“Technically, we could turn back. The shore isn’t that far away, and with Patton using his water magic proficiency to guide the ship we’re sailing much faster than any normal vessel,” Logan stated.

Virgil smirked. “It’s an expression, L… what do you think the isle will be like?”

“Similar to how Nigel described it. Full of mystery and magical creatures. Maybe we’ll see a unicorn,” Logan mused.

“Would you like to see a unicorn?”

“Perhaps. It would be an interesting encounter.”

“How long have you wanted to see a unicorn?”

“Um, what?”

“I know you like to think of yourself as some emotionless rock, but I can see right through you. You definitely want to see a unicorn for more than because it would be an interesting experience.”

“Seeing a unicorn would be an interesting experience. And perhaps one of the things I’ve always dreamed of doing,” Logan admitted sheepishly. “My mom used to tell me stories about them when I was younger. They were my favourite.”

Virgil nodded. “I’ve never heard you talk much about your mom.”

“Well, I was very young when she passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but I shouldn’t pry.”

“Perhaps… but I don’t mind talking about her with you... I only remember a few things since I was so young. Her stories about magic and adventure. The way she disliked singing but still loved music. Her light laughter and tender voice. How she always comforted me when I felt down.”

“She sounds like she was a wonderful mother.”

Logan smiled softly. “The best… if you don’t mind my asking, what are your parents like?”

“Well, Papa writes a lot of songs in his spare time. Mostly sappy love songs though occasionally he just makes up silly rhymes about any nobles he doesn't like. Dad likes singing too, though he loves acting even more. Whenever he told me stories as a kid he used so many voices and expressions. It was the coolest experience,” Virgil recalled fondly. “...Logan… do you… do you think they’re really gone?”

Logan frowned. “I don’t know. But they must have gone somewhere and wherever that is we’ll find them and bring them back. Until then though, you’re not alone Virgil.”

“...thank you.”

Nothing much else happened that night. The kids slept in shifts aboard the ship as it smoothly glided through the waters in the direction of the misted isle. When the sun rose over the waters to the east, everyone woke up and together ate a small breakfast of their supplies. They didn’t have much to do apart from telling stories or play sitting games as they waited to arrive at their destination. Before noon though, they saw looming on the horizon, an island strangely covered in a mass of fog that made it nearly impossible to actually see the island.

“Here we are, guys. The Misted Isle.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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