#queerplatonic logince

[astrologiaaa]

i feel like the sanders sides fandom should explore ships/dynamics as queerplatonic relationships more. like yeah, romantic ships r cool and all but what about qpr dukeceit. anxceit. logince. royality. lamp. DRLAMP. the possibilities are endless please

#astrologiaaa #my incessant yapping #sanders sides #i <3 queerplatonic relationships in media i consume #plsplsplsplsplsplsplspls

[pencilpat]

Sanders Sides: College AU - Part 4

Character sheets | Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Despite starting out with future dukeceit, this is primarily logince content lol. Logan is a transfem nonbinary person and Janus is transfem in this AU.

Janus considers the strings she's laid while Remus sits by, uncharacteristically anxious. Roman and Logan go on their first date as a queerplatonic couple, and while Roman's lavish lifestyle rubs her a bit wrong, Roman himself has undoubtedly charmed her.

5,096 words

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Not unlike any morning before, Janus wakes up with a hangover. Thank god it’s the weekend, and a day she doesn’t have to work, because she thinks if she had to function as a human being she would push someone down a flight of stairs if she felt frisky enough. She tries to push herself up, but her arms shake and give out the moment she tries to put her weight on them. She groans, rolling her eyes at her own body. Opting to force herself to roll over onto her back and sit up that way, she notices about half way through the upward struggle that her apartment smells like food. Successfully upright, she stares at the door, the concept of Remus cooking for her making her, oddly, slightly angry at him. She knows it’s irrational and sighs at herself, throwing a grey sweater over her old t-shirt and pyjama pants as she makes her way out. Her apartment’s shitty heating is starting to not be enough for the colder weather.

The sound of sizzling is filling her kitchen, and she leans on the outer side of the island, staring at Remus at the stove in the corner facing away from her. Janus clears her throat dramatically against a hovering fist. Remus spins around with his tongue poking out, wide eyes looking at her like she caught him committing a crime.

“Oh, Janus! Um. Hi!”

“Hello.”

“I’m making food!”

“I can smell that.”

Remus pauses, scratching his calf with his foot. “Uh. Want some?”

“Depends. What are you making? And how dirty was the pavement you seemingly picked this food up off of?”

Remus laughs, a weirdly soft, genuine sounding one for him. “Oh c’mon, you know I went to the store, I’m not that crazy!”

“You’re not crazy,” she immediately corrects him in somewhat of a snap. Remus straightens up slightly at her tone, blinking rapidly, one of her spatulas hanging from his hand. Janus catches herself, sighing. “Just- Don’t talk to yourself like your mom did, okay? Anyway. What are you making?”

“Uh, just pancakes ‘n eggs. I figured you would get mad if I spent money on meat for you, so, I just got quick mix batter and a cheap thing of eggs!” Remus is scratching his calf again, not making anything close to eye contact even though he’s smiling. Janus feels cold in her chest, seeing him seemingly anxious over the potential of hurting her feelings.

“Eggs sound great, Remus. How did you remember I enjoy those?” she says, keeping her voice light and playful. Remus perks up slightly, seeming less downtrodden.

“Dunno! Maybe I’m magic,” he shrugs, grinning and turning around to flip a pancake.

“How are you good at cooking and I’m not?” Janus teases, leaning more of her weight on the counter as her weakness seems to feel more poignant suddenly. Remus doesn’t turn around for a moment, before flipping the final of five pancakes onto one of her plates. He ends up not answering at all, seemingly distracted by the food. Janus doesn’t have a kitchen table, so Remus carries the plates over onto the pullout couch, setting the eggs and syrup bottle next to it. He walks up to Janus and begins touching her and she swats at him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh- Sorry! I was gonna help you to the bed!”

“Remus, it’s like three footsteps, I’m fine.”

“But you’re sweating,” he pouts. Janus rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the counter, stumbling around and sitting on the bed.

“There, see? Shockingly, I’m not helpless.”

Remus chuckles, yet again weirdly soft sounding for him, and sits across from her, grabbing up two pancakes, sandwiching eggs in the middle, and eating it like a sandwich. Janus snorts, then covers her mouth slightly, clearing her throat. His ridiculousness can be genuinely entertaining, whether she likes it or not. She picks up one of the forks he brought over and skewers some eggs. As she tastes it, she realizes he bought cheese and spices too, and along with the eggs she swallows guilt at being so aggressive to him last night.

“So, where were you at last night?” Remus speaks through a mouthful of food.

“Just out.”

“I don’t know any of the bars on this side of town. Seems like they’ve got good stuff!”

Janus cringes. “Uh, yeah, sure. I don’t know.” She stabs more eggs, and her mind drifts to the hazy memories from Blacklight Mamba. She bites down on the eggs hard, the feeling of seeing that stupid purple patched hoodie from across the bar fresh in her chest. Virgil seemingly having such a sweet, innocent little partner makes her feel ill. Jealousy or anger or worry over the partner? Who’s to say. “How have the rest of our old pals been, Remus?”

Remus stops chewing with the look of someone caught in the middle of two fighting lions. “Why d’ you ask? I figured you would want me to mention them as little as possible,” he laughs.

Janus picks at her nails. “Indulge my curiosity, why don’t you.”

“Erm,” Remus swallows hard. “Well, I got cut off from our parents and about the same time Roman got accepted to the same college as Virgil. Our parents gave him a huge old house with a bunch of rooms and they pay for it and give him an allowance! Can you even? Anyway, Virgil lives there with his partner, Patton, and I was living there in secret for a while under our parent’s noses,” he rambles on. “But then Patton decided to be a dick about me liking weed, and they screamed at me like I was a fucking kid or something, told me I had to move out, else I was being kicked out. And yeah, then I texted you. Now I’m here.”

Janus tries to eat her pancake casually, reassessing her thoughts on this Patton character. “Seems like an interesting turn of events. As co-dependent as you and Roman always were I’m shocked he let you be-“

Remus swats at her hair, startling her into stopping. “We were not co-dependent, what?! Come on, man, we just care about each other like any twins would.”

“Roman literally used to sleep in your bed when you first started hallucinating,” she offers up, deadpan.

Remus makes a warbling, gasping sound, gesticulating at her like she just implied the sky is red. “He was just taking care of me! I mean, no one else was.”

“If you feel that way,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. Janus cuts away a bite of pancake with the edge of her fork, a bit too violently. Patton definitely didn’t know who she was, and that is for the better. She smirks around the bite of food as she imagines Virgil seeing her high school contact name in his partner’s phone. That ought to be fun.

“What you smiling about?” Remus says, eating his third pancake yet again like it’s a sandwich. She notices him leaving most of the eggs for her, glancing up to meet his eyes.

“Just thinking, is all.”

“Penny for ‘em?”

“Remus, no one carries cash anymore, I know for a fact you don’t have a penny.”

To her surprise, he fishes in his cargo pants’ pocket with a big smile. A dime comes out rather than a penny, and he scowls at it. “Guess you owe me ten of your thoughts now, madame!”

Janus rolls her eyes. “I was just thinking about how much my head hurts, you doofus.” Remus squints at her, knowing instantly that Janus isn’t being honest. He decides to just let it go though, and flicks the dime at her. She catches it out of the air, winking at him as she spins it between her fingers.

“Guessing that’s the most money you’d let me give you directly,” Remus snickers.

Janus frowns at him. “Forgive me for not wanting handouts from a former trust fund baby.”

Remus throws his hands up defensively. “I’m not a trust fund baby anymore though! I’m just your regular civilian with a hardworking job.”

“Tattooing is not exactly an example of the typical civilian job. Try fast food for even a week. You’d crumble into pieces in a day.”

Remus gesticulates towards her, pursing his lips with an expression of conceding agreement. He pops the last bite of his pancake into his mouth, then splays himself backwards on the end half of the pullout bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe Janus will be honest with him one day. If he keeps treating her nicely, she might remember what it was like to trust a friend. He peeks at her eating her final pancake, seemingly as at peace as she can get as she eats something he made just for her. It’s a nice sight, and he can’t help a slight smile and light blush dusting his face. Maybe one day, maybe one day.

--

Monday afternoon, wind tosses leaves about as Roman stares hard at his phone, his entire face creased with a mix of emotions. He messaged his twin two days ago to tell him about his new partner. Remus is always excited for him and his romantic conquests, no matter how short and spontaneous they’ve been in the past. Yet, it has gone unreplied to, not even opened seemingly, as it doesn’t read as ‘seen’ either. He sets his eyes in his hand, leaning over himself on some random park bench while he waits for the others to finish their classes. Did he really mess up that badly by asking him to move?

He reopens his phone, checking again uselessly, in case he missed something somehow. Knowing that Remus is with Janus, too, has been making him wake up in nervous sweats. There’s a taste of intentional betrayal, in choosing to stay with her specifically, but Roman isn’t sure if Remus is smart enough to take things like that into consideration. His foot is tapping so hard it’s echoing slightly in the empty courtyard. Am I really that shit of a brother? he thinks to himself miserably. He pulls his red jacket tighter over himself like it has the magical abilities to hide insecurities too.

The faint sound of the bell inside the building closest to him sounds the toll that sends herds of students out to change classes or head home. He spots the others crossing the yard in a little group. As they move closer Roman sees Patton is holding a very grumpy seeming Logan’s hand, and Virgil is pink from laughter.

“Now, what happened here? Are we swapping or something?” Roman puts his hand on his hip, smiling. Virgil immediately begins laughing into his hand again, and Patton also giggles.

“I was holding Virgil’s hand, and Logan accused us of showing off,” Patton faux whines, swinging their hands as Logan stares directly at the ground with a red face. “So, I told her her hand was just lonely, and I helped it out!”

Logan sighs, very loudly. “Patton, it is a hand, it cannot get lonely. May I be free now?”

“Well, considering there’s a new friend for your hand…” Patton drags Logan’s hand over and places it into Roman’s which makes both flush instantly. “I can let you go!”

“Patton, please,” Roman scolds, letting go of her hand and covering his face as he turns around to face away from them all dramatically. Virgil loses it, laughing hard into his hand and doubling over. Logan seems to be attempting to tune out entirely, her eyes being closed and her fists gently clenched with sheer embarrassment.

“That aside,” she speaks up, a little too loudly. “Roman, we have places to be. Patton was taking your car home, and I’m driving us, right?”

Roman breathes in deeply and turns around to face the group again. “Actually, Lo, we don’t need to take your car – I made arrangements.” Roman practically purrs the last word, smiling to himself proudly.

“Arrangements?”

“Since I’m taking you to a very nice place, I got a limo. I wanted to give you a true experience.”

Logan doesn’t look as pleased as Roman thought she would, just adjusting her glasses with a slight frown. “I don’t see the purpose. My car is perfectly functional. It feels very showy.”

“Showy is the point, dear Lo! We’re going somewhere er… more my family’s taste, if you know what I mean.” Roman watches her frown not change, internally panicking a bit. “I just… wanted to treat you to something really nice, for my turn paying. You deserve nice things.” He holds her hand, meeting her eyes nervously. She looks back at him, and her face melts slightly, the frown turning into a more playful, soft one.

“Alright, Roman. I understand you want to make it special, as the first one. Just do not spend recklessly like this for any of the other dates.”

Patton and Virgil depart to find Roman’s car in the student parking lot, and Logan follows behind Roman as he walks towards the front of campus to meet the waiting car. Behind him she rolls her eyes at the exuberantly glimmering white limo, being gawked at by students as they leave for the day. Logan attempts to cover her identity with her hand as the driver exits and opens the door. Roman pats the man’s shoulder and when his hand moves away Logan sees he’s wordlessly left a bill in the man’s pocket. She tries not to feel sour about that, pausing and muttering “thank you,” to the man, who smiles at her.

The inside of the car is purple, both in lighting and seat color. Logan flips her skirt under her as she sits. Roman is already reaching into a miniature fridge and pulling out travel size bottles of wine. Logan makes an uncomfortable noise before she can help it, and Roman looks over at her. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t drink. At all.”

“Why not?” Roman asks, casual.

Logan’s shoulders tense, and she shifts slightly in place. “I have bad experiences with it.”

“Oh,” Roman says, glancing at the bottles. “Well, then I shan’t leave you sober alone!” The bottles are popped right back in the fridge, and he slams the door shut with a resolute grin. Logan blinks rapidly for a moment, her brain seeming to calculate him in a different manner than before.

“Thank you, Roman. What restaurant will we be going to? I was wondering this morning why you were in such fanciful clothing.” She regards his ironed black button up and dark red suit, accompanied by lavish yet simple jewelry. She thanks the stars that all her clothing is rather nice and professional, tugging at her tie to tighten it.

“It’s a hibachi bar!”

“That is not as fancy as I had thought.”

“Oh, Lo, that’s cute. This place is… There will pretty much only be other bigheaded suits at the other tables having business meetings about major companies.”

“Hm. Unpleasant.”

“Er- Yes, but,” Roman reaches across and takes her hand into his black gloves, smiling at her with shining eyes. “We only need focus on you and I, at our own table.” He pauses for a moment. “Plus, the amount of food you get here will leave enough for you to portion for a week at least,” Roman tantalizes.

Logan cracks a smile, rolling her eyes just slightly. “Ah, I see you are using my love of pre-planned meals against me.”

“I need some kind of ammunition to get you to let me spoil you!”

--

Even his hyping up of the fanciness of the restaurant was underselling it. There is an entrance hall where a man in a suit offers to take their coats, to which both decline. The red carpet is lush and well-cleaned, and the walls are black marble with carved pillars stretching to the high ceiling. The man pushes open the black wooden doors and gestures for them to follow. Logan feels frozen, hesitating in the hall. Roman’s hand suddenly touches hers.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs gently against her ear. She turns to look at him, seeing his lightly worried face.

“I don’t- I don’t know if I’m right for a place like this.”

Roman stands in front of her with a wave to the host to hold on. He brushes at the cowlick in her hair, tucking it behind her ear. He adjusts her glasses with a hum, pats at her vest and tie. “I think you look splendid. I’d be shocked if someone doesn’t mistake you for royalty,” he mutters, smiling at her sweetly. Logan’s face turns pink, and she looks at the floor.

“If you’re certain.”

The host leads them in, and Logan takes in several black hibachi grills spread around a large open space. There are private non-grill tables behind partitions painted lavishly with birds of paradise. Roman leads her along. She can’t help noticing that everyone at the grills is dressed in similarly lowkey designer clothes like Roman. The ‘old money’ look and air about them puts her off entirely, making her stance awkward and stiff. Roman’s hand holding hers grounds her though, even as they pass a table and someone mutters about ‘the Carmona’s boy.’ She watches Roman suddenly stand with even better posture and puff himself up.

“They must know my father,” he whispers to her as they’re sat down with menus. “Or my mother. I get recognized sometimes because of, erm…” Roman gestures to the marks of his piebaldism with a scowl. “Stands out a bit among the menagerie.” He does a flowing gesture with his hands and rolls his eyes.

Logan hums quietly in thought. Roman sits half turned in his seat in order to look only at her. “I already know the menu, why don’t you take a look, hm?” Logan nods, and opens the menu. And dear god. Prices in the 100s hit her in the face like a truck. She glances around the laminated page, desperate to find anything at a reasonable price. Roman’s hand appears in her view, and then draws her chin up to have her look at him.

“Price doesn’t matter, don’t fret so much,” he soothes. “I know it seems like a lot, but look how much food comes with it.” He points to the cheapest thing available, shrimp fried rice. Logan reads it shakily, and sees that it comes with a noodle dish, rice, shrimp, vegetables, soup, and a dessert of which there two courses. She bites her lip, considering. It is a lot of food, at $59.00. That will do, she supposes.

A young male waiter greets them politely, and Roman orders the fried rice dish with chicken instead, as well as a teriyaki steak. Logan tries not to get dizzy at the price of that one. She orders the fried rice somewhat timidly. Logan thanks the waiter pointedly, to which Roman also thanks him, finally giving even a hint that he appreciates the workers around him.

The waiter leaves, and they chat idly until he returns with a tray and two bowls of soup.

“Chirirenge,” Roman flounces, holding up the spoon that comes with the dish.

“Pardon?”

“Asian soup spoon! It’s called a chirirenge.”

“Ah, you’re right, they are. Something about looking like a lotus petal? I’m not one for metaphors. To me it just means it holds more soup. You know Japanese?”

“Ehh. I’m nowhere near fluent anymore, so don’t expect me to speak any. I learned several languages as a little kid, from a tutor.”

“Fascinating. Do you remember much of any of them?”

“Yo hablo algo de español,” he says, titling his hand from side to side to imply how iffy his knowledge is. “My mom travels in South America often; she’s starred in quite a few smaller movies over there.”

“Yo también hablo español,” Logan says, happily surprised. “I’ve always wanted to travel there, some day. The landscape is beautiful…”

Roman gasps, touching her hand. “I have to take you some time! Wouldn’t a trip be fabulous?”

Logan hesitates, cringing. “I’d prefer to work to a place in my life where I could pay for it myself.”

“Oh,” Roman says, quieting. He puffs up, and squeezes her hand. “Well, when that day comes, I hope I’ll still be here to go with you and show you my favorite towns.”

“Thank you, Roman.” Logan nods and smiles at him, appreciating the effort to act like he’s not rich, even if for a moment. She turns and begins tasting the broth soup. It’s incredibly good, to her surprise, and she lets out a noise of enjoyment, taking many more bites. Roman is smiling at her as he watches her enjoy herself openly, when he feels the hair on his neck prickling.

Lo notices Roman glance over his shoulder at that table from before. “Old hag staring alert,” he snickers, sitting up straighter. “God forbid an actor’s child exist in a public space. I swear if she calls paparazzi of any kind, ugh.”

“Your mother is famous enough for that?”

“Eh, it depends on if she was in any films recently, she’s more of a star in some cult classics and smaller films. Usually I don’t even get noticed, but this woman must be a fan,” he says, sounding sick on that last word. Logan glances too, and sees an older woman staring at Roman’s back hungrily, tense in her seat. She turns away quickly, feeling a bit disturbed.

“I always thought of fans as a pleasant part of being famous.” She notices how uncomfortable Roman looks, and lifts her hand, hovering in the air hesitantly for a moment before she rests it on his gloves. “Don’t let it ruin our fun, Roman. I’m sure it will be okay.” Roman smiles at her thankfully.

Both were too distracted to notice the chef and his cart pulling up to their table, and he clears his throat to get their attention. They both turn to face him, and he laughs, then begins lighting the grill up. Logan jumps when he starts sharpening knives against each other, and Roman giggles at her. The chef pours oil onto the grill and it sizzles loudly. He tosses vegetables on and begins chopping them up, eventually moving them into a pile.

“Lean back,” Roman warns, and Logan almost doesn’t have time to do so before a burst of flame lights up in the oil from the controlled blowtorch the chef wields. Logan reels back; she grabs and adjusts her glasses a tad frantically as both Roman and the chef laugh at her reaction. “It’s her first time!” Roman offers heartily. The chef chuckles and winks at him.

He stirs around vegetables a bit more, and then scoops a tiny piece of zucchini onto the blade, nodding to Roman. Roman nods back excitedly, and Logan watches in confusion as he holds his mouth open. The chef tosses the bit of food across the table, and Roman catches it in his mouth, laughing. By the time Logan looks back the chef is looking at her with a piece ready. She nods, hesitantly holding her lips apart. Not apart enough, as the piece hits her lip and falls, she fumbles but catches it in her hand, holding it up to show she saved it. The chef and Roman both laugh and start clapping for her as she sheepishly pops the tidbit in her mouth.

The veggies get pushed to the side to cook, and the chef pours more sparkling oil onto the grill. Logan watches in fascination as he puts some long, flat noodles on, douses them in two different sauces, and then stirs them around and around on the grill, before depositing them to the side to cook.

He walks around and sets two large plates beside their soup bowls, winking at Logan. “Enjoying your first, miss?”

“Yes,” she admits, glancing at Roman. “I am.”

The chef, behind the grill again, shovels heaps of vegetables on each of their plates. Logan adjusts her glasses, a bit wide-eyed at the sheer amount of food. And there’s more to come? Perhaps Roman wasn’t joking about having weeks’ worth of leftovers. She unwraps chopsticks and a fork from the pre-laid place-setter napkins and uses the chopsticks to bring a piece of broccoli to her mouth. It’s delicious, falling apart under her teeth, soft and fried perfectly. Roman chuckles beside her.

“Does it taste good?” he asks in a somewhat dreamy voice.

Logan clears her throat, her face pink. “Ah, yes. Apologies, was I..?”

“Wide eyed and shining like a star with joy? Yes, Logan, you were.”

Logan looks away and back to her food. “I just- I don’t quite know what to do. This is just the vegetables?”

“Well, yeah!” Roman nods to the chef, who is scooping piles of the long noodles onto the plates with the other heap of food. “It’s only the second course too, he hasn’t even started the rice.”

Logan breathes out slowly. She begins eating again, trying to make her way through at least enough to give the poor chef room when he finishes the sizzling pile of rice he’s tossing around. The noodles are one of the best pieces of food she has had in her entire life, she can’t imagine how good rice and meat will be. He’s cooking her dish first, chopping shrimp into pieces and mixing them into half the pile of rice. He douses it in more oil, and sauce, making the grill sizzle loudly. Logan watches him stirring it around with an amazed face, and Roman can only seem to look at her face. He’s never seen her make such big expressions before, and she’s very pretty when she is showing emotion, in his opinion.

Logan has only eaten about one third of the noodles and half of the vegetables when the rice is dumped onto her plate. She tastes it, and accidentally lets out an innocent moan at how good it tastes. Roman covers his mouth to mask a huge, loving grin. Though they’re queerplatonic, sometimes Roman’s aesthetic and alterous attraction overlap in a way that makes him understand what being romantically in love with her would feel like. He tries to focus on his food, but she’s just… radiant.

Logan catches him staring, glancing over to him. “Are you alright, Roman?”

“Hm? Oh- Yes, quite! You’re just such a distraction, Lo.”

Logan lets a short, nervous laugh out, smiling like a cartoon character that was just kissed. “Roman, please settle down.” She pushes up her glasses on her nose.

“I do mean it though,” he sighs. “I wasn’t lying when I said you could be mistaken for royalty. Whether night or day, you’re the heavens at play,” he says, touching his chest and raising an arm like a prince delivering a sonnet.

“Hm, is the couplet an attempt to woo me?”

“But of course,” he winks. A waiter clears their throat, and Roman politely moves his plate to the side so his steak dish can be set down. He pokes at it with his fork, then turns to Logan. “Want to try it?” Logan nods, and begins reaching over with her own fork. Roman shakes his head, raising his up with a bite of meat on it. “Lean over here, pretty.”

Logan’s face goes pink, and she rolls her eyes, but she leans over and lets him place a bite in her mouth tenderly. His gloves stroke her chin softly as he pulls away. She pulls back, setting a fist against her mouth as she chews. “It’s very good.”

“I know, right? This place’s food is just divine.”

Logan takes in Roman’s lovesick face, his slightly crooked grin and glimmering green eyes, filled with emotion that is all caused by her. She breaks eye contact, looking back to her food, trying to contain a dorky smile as she digs through the feast she’s been gifted.

--

Roman insisted on her letting the driver take her four to-go boxes worth of food as they got back in the car. They sit on the same side this time, Logan leaning slightly into the crook of Roman’s neck. Despite being taller, she has realized she enjoys feeling cradled, especially after so much stimulation. Roman had set his suit jacket around her shoulders, and she holds it tight around herself, dazed and dizzy with emotion. She’s mostly lost talking ability after such a big event, but Roman simply lets her rest in silence, rubbing his hand over her hair. It’s the first time he’s ever seen her hair down, and he can see that it’s slightly curly, falling in black waves just over her shoulders.

Logan lets out a tired sigh, watching street lights pass by. They’ve come back to the school after dark for her to retrieve her car, though driving might be an issue, she realizes faintly. But, to her surprise, Roman also exits the limo, handing a few more bills to the driver as he goes.

“What?” she asks simply.

“I’m going to drive you to your place. I know you have a sofa I can stay on, just for tonight. We can get to class together,” he steps towards her, tucking her cowlick behind her ear again. “You can make sure I actually get there on time for once.”

Logan hesitates, only for a moment, but concedes with a nod, swaying slightly on her feet. Roman drives them, and helps her get up the stairs to her part of the housing unit. The welcoming arms of her dark bedroom feels like being cradled too, and Logan barely even takes off her tie properly before laying down. She sees Roman’s shadow about to leave, and calls to him. “Roman, wait- Can you- could you sleep here? With me?”

Roman’s figure pauses in the doorway, and she can’t see the massive smile cross his face as he melts. He comes back over to her bed, and lays down across from her, squished together on a twin bed. He tries to give her space still, but their faces are there together, looking at each other’s shadowy forms.

“I think I like you. A lot.” Roman confesses it quietly. Logan hums, and crosses the gap, resting her head on his chest.

“You’re pretty nice as well,” she mutters softly.

They drift to sleep with full stomachs, and full hearts as well for that matter.

#college au #sanders sides #logince #dukeceit #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #tss au #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #tss fic #tss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction

[rose-coloured-prince]

hello! i’m also a big sanders sides nerd <3

what’s your opinion on the more vanilla ships, like logicality, prinxiety, and dukeceit? i used to be super into those, but i think i eventually started to find them kinda boring??? have you experienced that or is it just me?

also do you see logince as soft or snarky? i cant décide

I wouldnt call them vanilla... just popular lol

Theyre good! I like dukeceit the most out of those three. I enjoy prinxiety quite alot too. I really only enjoy logicality queerplatonically but im trying to get back into it.

Theyre all cute and soft.

And I see logince as BOTH! They can be soft and help each other and praise each other on their skills and be a good team AND they can be so snarky and just throw insults and be so competitive! I think they would start competitions over anything just because theyre so prideful and think they know best.

I love them!

#errigetsasks

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

hello I'm crying over an old lady and I would like to sue for damages /pos

also I kind of thought you were hinting at a Dot/Larry/Abby polycule at first but aroace Abby is equally lovely and good 🥺

honestly Abby's relationship with Dot and Larry is very queer. it's not romantic, and its not quite queerplatonic because - well mostly because they didn't really know they could do that?

i wouldnt go so far as to say they actively wanted more than a best friendship, and they weren't dissatisfied with that. but i do think that if they had the language or even the awareness that queerplatonic relationships, polycules, and the intersection of those two things were even an option, all three of them would have been like "oh that's so much more convenient" and abby would have moved right in to the sanders house

and i do think this is an interesting dynamic to explore, but not so much in an au (i am on the fence about how i'd personally feel with logince in such a scenario) but in its lack in the canon. this idea that in another life Roman might have been calling dot and larry mom and dad, and that *they* are aware of it but he isn't

it's almost-but-not-quite tragedy. the mourning of what could have been, while also forced to acknowledge that they love roman as he is, and wouldn't change him or the relationship they have now, because it's just as precious, if not more, than a what-might-have-been.

and this is why abby is really the most haunting-of-the-narrative character in laoft. because of my above misgiving and my thoughts on this, its something i've sort of set in stone. in every version of laoft i write thats a canon divergence from the original (so basically everything but fair folk and fortresses, which is a completely different universe rather than canon divergence), abby dies. its the one thing that will never change.

even greta doesnt haunt the narrative as much as abby does, because abby dying is, in my mind, what allows roman to become the person he is, and allows the story to happen.

#ask #doteddestroyer #love and other fairytales ask #laoft abby

[poisonedapples]

🌝🤔🍰 for the fanfic ask game!

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I’m gonna not include TS in this simply because,,,,,,I’ve written all of them, so I would love to write MCU Peter Parker. He has so much potential, and I love his character when he’s younger, but I can never finish a story with him dkshdksjs

🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?

Filling in the gaps I consider boring to write. I always skip around in my WIPs because writing something is better than nothing, and I do have to eventually fill in those gaps between scenes. It SUCKS because it takes so much willpower and so much more thinking to write filler I don’t care much for

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

For comfort? Take Care by sign-from-god-complex. He hasn’t been in the fandom for a while but I still adore that fic. Also the queerplatonic Logince au by Marin (whose new Tumblr name escapes me. It used to be princelogical)

#asks

[werewroammin]

should the scene sides au thing have royality or analogince (ive decided on analogical already, there’s no changing my mind)

analogince would involve romantic analogical, unlabeled-type-of-relationship logince (they’re into each other but like,,,, they don’t stress over labels for it. platonic romantic? idk), and queerplatonic prinxiety (i can try to elaborate on their dynamic but trust me it’s also pretty complicated lmao)

i mean,,, i could have royality be a thing too, where patton is only dating roman,,,, i do love a complex polycule,,,,,,

let me know y’all’s thoughts!

[averykedavra]

91. “i’m not kissing you in the rain, we’ll catch our deaths!” with logince, if you’d like?

(A classic! I wrote a version of this here with loroyality, if you’d like to read that, too!)

Words: 3367

Roman knew that real-life romance wasn’t exactly like it was in the movies.

For one thing, kissing sleeping princesses was frowned upon, for obvious reasons. For another, dragons did not usually frequent college campuses. There was also a distinct lack of princes, although there was a tower for the astronomy classes, which could perhaps serve as a prison.

In general, it was highly disappointing.

Still, Roman tried to make the most of it. Some romantic tropes could still be employed--flowers, for instance, or surprise dates, or fountains.

The campus even had a lucky fountain! Toss a penny in at the beginning of the year, and you’d get straight As. Roman had done so, of course. It hadn’t worked. Maybe the luck came on a delayed schedule. Roman still believed.

Roman believed in a lot of things--lucky fountains, fairies, and a Disney-style romance. Just because they hadn’t worked didn’t mean they wouldn’t work! He just had to do them right.

The first two were difficult to tackle during a semester of classes, but the third was attainable.

Especially when his science partner was so cute.

Logan apparently liked science class, which made him a nerd, but Roman could forgive that. It had made their science labs far easier. And it was eclipsed by his cuteness, in a way that somehow made the nerdiness also cute. That was a powerful skill indeed, and one that Logan deployed without thought. Whenever he wrinkled his nose or rolled his eyes or slid into a tangent about physics, Roman found himself in a bubble of happiness.

In a movie, there would be actual bubbles, or maybe flowers. Or maybe just a glow. Things still glowed when Logan was nearby, but Roman was pretty sure that was all in his imagination. He sent a picture of Logan to Virgil, in order to check. You’re in deep, was all that Virgil texted back.

And yes! Yes, Roman was in deep, and he was not ashamed! He was in love. Well, like--he couldn’t quite be in love at first sight, or even fifth study session, because that wasn’t how real life worked. He liked Logan, though. A lot. He wanted to kiss him on the cheek and listen to him talk about space.

It was hard to tell if Logan liked him back. Real life, unfortunately, held the large possibility that Logan did not. But Roman used his incredible observation skills, and by the third time Logan flushed when they bumped shoulders, he was pretty sure.

Logan liked him. Roman liked Logan, too.

Simple--this was the ‘ride into the sunset’ part of things. Except that involved one of them telling the other, and Roman could just say he liked Logan, but that wasn’t what he was supposed to do! He was supposed to woo him! That was how love worked.

So Roman tried to woo his lab partner.

And it went, well, not as poorly as it could have. Logan didn’t do anything extreme, like throw up or declare Roman a fiend. He just--ignored it. He ignored every single flirtatious line Roman threw at him.

At first, Roman could reasonably believe he hadn’t noticed--Logan was a bit naive in social situations, which was incredibly endearing--but he slowly began to doubt that. After he sent Logan flowers and Logan didn’t touch them, Roman gave in. Logan must have noticed. He just didn’t seem to care.

Which didn’t match up with anything. Logan had been interested in him--Roman knew it, and all their friends agreed. So if he was interested, he should be enjoying this!

That was how it worked!

And yes, dragons weren’t real, and yes, lucky fountains didn’t work, but something had to be true. It was called true love for a reason. Roman was supposed to sweep Logan off his feet, kiss him, and like it. That was how the story went.

Yet Logan stubbornly refused to play along.

Roman worked through his entire list of pickup lines. He spent half their study sessions inching his way closer before touching Logan’s hand, and feeling Logan pull away. He bought cookies, was curtly handed back the cookies, and was forced to eat the cookies by himself in his dorm room.

And he’d stop if Logan said no. If Logan clearly said he wasn’t interested--because he could reasonably have changed his mind--or that he didn’t want Roman to do this. But he never said anything. He just acted like it never happened.

Maybe that was a no. Maybe Roman was just not taking the hint. He definitely didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable, but he couldn’t believe this was it, that he was stuck loveless and embarrassed and barely following along with science class.

He gave himself one more day. One last study session of attempting to drop hints, and if Logan let them fall like lead balloons, he’d cut it out.

“Your shirt looks really cute on you!” Roman said.

Logan hummed and turned a page.

“Oh, that’s how it works?” Roman grinned. “I get it now! You’re so smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Cute, smart, and humble. Triple threat!”

Logan shrugged a bit and returned to the worksheet.

“Aw, I don’t want this to be over,” Roman said as the sky darkened. “Do you want to meet up again soon?”

“We have class together next week,” Logan pointed out.

“No, like--on our own.” Roman held out a hand. “Like a date.”

Logan looked at his hand, back up, and closed his notes. “I should get going, I think it’s going to rain.”

Roman’s stomach sank as he watched Logan stand and gather his things. Eventually, he put his own books away. The library was quiet as he followed Logan to the door. He couldn’t find the courage to make conversation.

Logan pulled open the door and peered out. “It’s already drizzling.”

“I have an umbrella?” Roman suggested, pulling out his umbrella. “If you don’t have one, I can walk you to where you need to go?”

“Oh!” Logan smiled at him. “Thank you, Roman, I’d appreciate that.”

And see, this was what messed with Roman! Logan didn’t seem bothered by the flirting, as he still treated Roman normally, so was he mad or was he uncomfortable or was he oblivious or was he--

Roman opened the umbrella, held it over Logan’s head, and gestured to the door.

“A rainbow umbrella,” Logan said. “Of course.”

“I’m gay! I have to show it!” Roman winked at Logan. “Now, come on, Specs, where are you headed?”

“My dorm building,” Logan said, as they carefully stepped outside. Roman held the umbrella above both of them, his arm around Logan’s shoulders. Logan didn’t seem to mind. “Are you sure the umbrella will fit both of us?”

“It seems to work!” Roman shuffled forward, and Logan followed. “It’s like those three-legged races, we just have to step in unison.”

Logan nodded and watched Roman’s feet, his nose wrinkling adorably, like it always did when he focused. “Step now?”

“Step now!” Roman grinned. “Step, step, step in time, step in time--”

“No Mary Poppins.”

“But Julie Andrews!”

Logan huffed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to sing it with you, I hope you know that.”

“Good enough for me!” Roman declared. “Step in time, step in time, never need a reason, never need a rhyme.”

The rain was already falling faster. They walked in awkward unison down the sidewalk, past the parking lot, and towards the dorm buildings. They sat like brick lumps on the other side of the quad. All the grass was already muddy, and nobody was around, except for a few freshmen running to the Humanities building with coats over their heads.

“I should have brought my umbrella,” Logan complained as the rain increased. “The water is dripping down my neck.”

“Oh, it is?” Roman shifted his arm. “Does that work better?”

“For me, yes.” Logan looked up at him. “I think the water is now dripping down your neck.”

“I don’t mind,” Roman lied, ignoring the sensation of cold water in his collar.

“Here, let me adjust it.” Logan stopped walking and reached for the umbrella handle. “If we both stand under the dome, we won’t get wet.”

Roman laughed. “Is there an equation for that?”

“I’m hardly going to etch it into the grass, am I?” Logan moved forward and pulled the umbrella off-center. “No, that’s worse. Stay still--”

Roman had no trouble with staying still, because he had just realized he was inches from Logan, one arm around his shoulders. He could lean forward and hug him, or tap his nose, or--kiss him. Yeah. That was what people did when they were close to people they liked.

The rain drummed on the umbrella as Logan adjusted it, fully focused. Kissing in the rain. That was definitely what people did. A romantic gesture.

Roman took a deep breath.

“Logan?” he asked.

Logan’s hands stilled on the umbrella handle. “Yes?”

“I--” Roman laughed a bit. “Your hair is damp.”

“Oh.” Logan batted at it, and only managed to flatten it further out of position. “That’s disappointing.”

“It looks cute,” Roman said.

And Logan flushed, just a bit.

That was enough of a go-ahead.

“You know what people do in the rain,” Roman said. He tried to sound a bit joking, but not too joking, and ended up squarely in awkward.

“I do?”

“Uh.” Roman steeled his nerves. “They kiss. It’s romantic.”

Logan blinked at him. “Oh. How is that relevant--”

Roman made a small, meaningless hand motion.

Logan’s mouth formed a small o.

For a second, it was quiet, the rain drumming on the umbrella.

“I mean,” Roman said, deciding to dig his hole deeper and bury himself, “most people do it in the rain. Like, all wet. There aren’t usually umbrellas involved.”

Logan looked affronted. “I’m not kissing you in the rain! We’ll catch our death!”

“We’ll just get a bit damp.”

“Absolutely not,” Logan said firmly. “I am not going out from under this umbrella, and I am not kissing you in the rain.”

“Okay, fine,” Roman said, cursing every word that left his mouth. “But what’s the verdict on kissing in general?”

Logan blinked again. Roman wondered if he’d attempt to ignore the situation again, or steal his umbrella and run. He hoped not. He liked this umbrella.

“I...” Logan let out a long breath. “I am not kissing you. Rain or otherwise.”

“Oh,” Roman said.

“I’m sorry,” Logan added quickly, and he did look sorry. “I hoped you would leave it alone, but it seems really important to you, and I’m sorry. I’m just not--interested.”

“In...me?” Roman swallowed. He was not going to cry. “You’re not interested in me.”

“No--” Logan started. “I mean, yes, but--” He stopped, looking frustrated. “I’m not interested in that. Kissing. Or rain. Or--romantic things like that.”

Roman’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected that turn of events. “You aren’t?”

Logan shook his head. “I’m aromantic. I’m not interested in a romantic relationship with anyone. Well, actually, some aromantic people do pursue romantic relationships. More accurately, I don’t experience romantic attraction.”

“You can do that?”

Logan raised an eyebrow and gave Roman a look that told him he was on extremely thin ice. “Yes.”

“I mean, that’s really cool!” Roman said quickly. “And makes a lot of sense. I just didn’t realize that was a thing.”

“Yes, it’s a ‘thing,’” Logan said. “You can doubtless find more online.”

“Huh,” Roman said. Things began to make a bit more sense. “Oh, gosh, I’m incredibly sorry for flirting with you! I didn’t realize--”

“It’s fine.” Logan paused and coughed a bit into his hand. “I-didn’t-mind-that-much.”

“What?”

“I--” Logan looked embarrassed. “I didn’t mind. It was...nice.”

“Really?” Roman asked. “But you said you didn’t like romantic stuff--”

“You were only complimenting me!” Logan said. “You said I was--cute. I enjoyed it. I only ignored it because I knew you meant it in a romantic sense, and I didn’t want to lead you on.”

Roman stared at him. Now things made more and less sense. “You didn’t mind it when I called you cute, though?”

Logan stared at his feet. The rain drummed around them.

“You hadn’t heard of aromantic,” Logan finally said, “so I doubt you’ve heard of this, either. But--the word is queerplatonic. And it’s, um--” Logan waved a hand. He was definitely blushing. It was completely adorable. “Even though some aromantic people don’t experience romantic attraction, they still have queerplatonic partners. For me, it’s like--I don’t want to kiss anyone, or do many traditionally romantic things, but--”

Roman nodded, making a mental note to do a lot of research. And also to hug Logan, when they were less wet, because he’d just fully comprehended that Logan had come out. That took bravery! And Roman was a bit honored that Logan trusted him enough to share.

“But I still like people,” Logan said. “In a--non-platonic way. I want to spend time with them, hold hands...” His voice trailed off. “Call them cute,” he finally said, barely loud enough for Roman to hear.

“Oh,” Roman said, again, because he didn’t have anything else to say.

“And I like you.” Logan looked up at him. “I do, Roman, a lot. Just--not in the way you were hoping. I don’t mind kisses on the cheek, but I’m never going to kiss you in the rain, and I would never be a romantic partner.”

The rain was still steady. Roman was pretty sure his arm was outside the umbrella, since it was getting drenched, but he didn’t care.

“So I apologize,” Logan said. “For that, and for all the miscommunication, because I should have told you instead of--letting it happen.”

Letting it happen. Because Logan liked it, he appreciated it, he might have even become flustered--Roman called him cute, and Logan liked it.

And Roman should have been heartbroken, or at least disappointed. His crush didn’t reciprocate his feelings! Roman liked Logan romantically, and Logan didn’t return that. No romantic flowers or lucky fountains or kisses in the rain. Just another thing that real life lacked.

The rain soaked slowly through Roman’s sleeve. Logan was probably right, anyway. Kissing in the rain would be cold and not fun at all. Roman couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to--

Wait.

Was the rain the issue? Or was it something else?

Roman stared at Logan. His lab partner. Logan was cute and adorable and smart and incredibly sweet, and Roman liked him a lot, and Roman wanted to--

Roman wanted to what?

Kiss him on the cheek. Hold his hand. Watch him ramble. Compliment him and see him blush. Maybe spend time together at coffee shops, or get him a present for his birthday, or even live together at some point--be together.

And that was all romantic. Obviously.

Wasn’t it?

Roman mentally ran through all his daydreams about Logan. Lots of hand holding. Leaning his shoulder into Logan’s. Hugging, or cuddling, or dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

Nowhere on that list was a kiss on the lips. Or a romantic date. Spending time together, sure, but it was different, it was--

Oh.

Huh.

“Aromantic,” Roman blurted out. “That was the word, right?”

“Um--” Logan looked a bit surprised. Roman realized he must have been standing there for several minutes, completely silent. “Yes.”

“So it’s people that don’t experience romantic attraction,” Roman continued. “Do--is it possible for them to kind of want romance anyway? Or think they do?”

“I don’t,” Logan said, “if that’s what you’re asking--”

“No, I’m--” Roman blew out a breath. “I’m trying to figure something out.”

Logan watched him carefully, but nodded. “Yes, some people enjoy romantic activities while not experiencing romantic attraction. Or their romantic attraction may be partial or fluctuate--it’s a spectrum--or they could simply believe they need to do traditionally romantic things, because of society’s focus on romantic love.”

Roman nodded very rapidly. "Cool. So cool. Cool-cool-cool.”

“Are you...” Logan looked confused. “Alright?”

“Yes? Maybe?” Roman laughed a bit wildly. “I am really not sure. Can you give me a second?”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” Roman took a deep breath. Logan was still watching him, glasses flecked with drops of rain. Logan was a good friend. They’d be friends no matter what, and that wasn’t less than anything. Roman could happily love him as a friend.

Friends didn’t daydream about making each other smile.

Friends didn’t want to kiss each other--on the cheek, on the nose, in rain or not. And--and not on the lips. Not really at all.

Roman knew how love worked. He’d seen the movies. Fall in love, kiss, get married, ride into the sunset. That was how everyone did it. That was what he was supposed to want.

But movies also had dragons and lucky fountains and princes. None of those things were quite the same in real life. In real life, kisses in the rain were just soggy and cold and entirely un-romantic.

In real life, Roman didn’t want to kiss someone in the rain.

Or someone outside of it, either.

True love. Roman always knew what true love looked like. But maybe he didn’t understand love as well as he thought.

Maybe things worked a little bit differently in real life.

And maybe--that was okay.

“Uh,” Roman said eloquently. “You were saying something about--queerplatonic?”

“Yes?” Logan asked. “Why?”

“Uh,” Roman said again. “So, like--partners. Together. But not, like, dating.”

“Yes.” Logan’s expression tightened. “Roman, you don’t have to--if that’s not what you’d like, it wouldn’t work--”

“It is, though.” It felt like a dragon-sized weight had flown off his shoulders. “It is--I don’t think I ever wanted that stuff, everyone just told me I did, and I--I just kinda want to be with you. I don’t know if that makes me aromantic or what, and I can probably figure that part out at some point, but--yeah. I...like calling you cute, because you are. I like studying with you. And I like being with you. Rain or otherwise.”

Logan watched him with wide eyes. “You’re--serious?”

“Yeah!” Roman beamed. “You just, like, made my entire life make sense, which is kind of terrifying but also very cool and everything is different now and I still really like you.”

“Oh,” Logan said, quietly. “Oh,” he said again.

“So, uh--” Roman’s confidence fizzled a bit. “I dunno. But--would you be interested in going out to eat? Or doing something together on our own? Like--a queerplatonic date?”

“Oh,” Logan said a third time. He was blushing violently. “Er--yes, if you’d be amiable to it, I’d enjoy--”

“Yes!” Roman cheered loudly. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “It sounds...nice.”

“It really does, doesn’t it?” Roman smiled at him and adjusted the umbrella. “We should talk about this more, of course, but it’s still raining and you have places to be.”

“Oh! Right!” Logan huffed. “We’ve been standing together in the quad like a pair of fools.”

“A pair of fools basically sums us up,” Roman agreed. “A pair of fools in love,” he added in a sing-song voice.

“Hey,” Logan complained, blushing again.

“So cute,” Roman said. “You adorable nerd, and I can say that to you now, holy Hera--”

 “You certainly can,” Logan said, attempting to cover his face. “Congratulations.”

“Aww, no, come on!” Roman gently tugged Logan’s arms away from his face. “There you are!”

Logan wrinkled his nose. And on impulse, Roman leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

Logan’s squeak was the most adorable thing Roman had ever heard. He leaned back into place and gave Logan a second to compose himself.

“You know, I think I was right,” Roman said after Logan finally stopped malfunctioning. “Kissing in the rain is pretty fun after all!”

“Shut up,” Logan said. “And you said most people don’t do it under umbrellas.”

“You said we’d get cold!” Roman smiled at him. “Besides, I think I’m allowed to rewrite the story a bit.”

Logan smiled back. “If you’d like to.”

“I’d definitely like to,” Roman said, pulling Logan closer and holding the umbrella above them. “‘Cause this way, I feel like I’m doing it right.”

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #queerplatonic logince #me: okay no more long fics only short and sweet #me: promptly writes a confession fic #anyway welcome back to 'avery writes qprs by projecting their relationship with their partner onto the characters' #like shhh my qpp is lovely and makes for very good inspiration #asks and answers #anon #averywrites #(also yes this is all going super slow i apologize i have to eat now but i will write more prompts soon i promise)

[sablesides-ask-blog]

“I immediately regret this decision.” With The Creativity Bros?

Life in the big city was nowhere near as simple as the twins wouldve liked it to be, while Roman didnt seem quite so phased by it, Remus was having difficulty wrapping his head around it all.

Everything was so loud and bright and angry. He was loud to sometimes, he didnt deny that, but this was a different kind of loud, this loud was bad. This kind of loud kept him up at night and made his head spin. Not that he needed any help with that, the constant nightmares he had of horrific things happening to Roman or his parents or his friends was enough to keep him awake for plenty of time.

But that all seemed to change when one day at a coffee shop, he made eye contact with a boy a few tables away from him, with short purple hair and a hoodie that was about ten sizes to big for him.

"Roman you have to help me talk to him, please," Remus said, dramatically throwing himself onto the couch.

"You've only seen him three times! I dont get what all the fuss is about," Roman said, closing his laptop.

"Well I didnt say I wanted a kiss, I just want to talk to him, I mean how did you and Logan end up in a QPR if you didnt talk first?" Remus asked.

"I suppose you're right, alright, I'll help you, but if you bring him over for the love of everything dont make out on the couch," Roman said, making a face that insinuated Remus had done that quite a few times already.

"Relax Princey, I'll wait till you're in another room," Remus grinned.

"I immeadietly regret this decision," Roman said. Remus cackled and fell back onto the couch, clutching his arms around his stomach.

"Ok so obviously you need his name first, ask a few small talk questions to but if he seems off-put by it try telling stories about yourself and ask him if he's done anything similar," Roman said. Remus nodded along as Roman listed off ways Remus could make friends with the boy.

Roman and Remus' plans weren't always successful, and neither were very good at advice, but watching Virgil walk down the aisle, flowers in his hair, cape so long it nearly covered the carpet, Remus was glad he had Roman for a brother.

#cori answers #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts logan #romantic dukexiety #dukexiety #background logince #queerplatonic logince #logince

[sign-from-god-complex]

Love You

Summary: Roman is soft, Logan is a mess and they’re both gay as hell.

Pairing: Queerplatonic logince!

Warnings: Just food mention.

A/N: Sorry about this unintentional break! Trying to get back into writing more regularly with a shorter piece, which is basically just a whole lot of domestic fluff 😄

Tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun​

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

“Open this.”

The sound of Roman’s voice pierced through the quiet of the living room, disrupting the sense of peace that had settled… approximately around the time Roman had left to begin with. Logan flicked the page of his book over disinterestedly.

“Can you say please?” At that, he looked up at his qpp, raising one eyebrow in a look of mild disapproval.

The two of them had become more comfortable in their relationship over the past few months and as such their banter had softened quite considerably. It had quickly reached the point where the two of them were more likely to be described as, “bickering like an old married couple,” as opposed to the previous, “ready to tear each other’s throats out at any given opportunity”—much to the joy of everyone around them.

Logan had taken to harmlessly teasing Roman a lot more, knowing now that it was now infinitely less likely to end up in a screaming match, and Roman was definitely making an effort to keep up.

Roman blinked, before shooting him a slightly mischievous look; Logan barely resisted the desire to roll his eyes in advance.

“Please! Oh, wise and brilliant Logan! Could you do me the great service of opening this sauce so that I may continue preparing our meal?” He threw his hands up in a show of ridiculous dramatics, painting his features into a look of desperation. “It is imperative that you assist me! I cannot possibly get by withou-”

“Oh, shut up.” Logan glared at him, but it was more amused and fond than annoyed. “It was not an unreasonable request, Roman.”

He grabbed the jar out of Roman’s hands before he could reply, unscrewing the top easily before handing it back. Roman grinned.

“I know, my dear,” he replied, his eyes crinkling at the corners and Logan thought he would never get sick of seeing him happy—even if it was at his own expense, “I just like messing with you. Dinner should be ready in 10.”

With Logan’s affirming hum, Roman lent down to where Logan was curled up on the couch, pulling his face closer with the hand that wasn’t holding the now open jar and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Soft, breathy laughter echoed in Logan’s ears and for a moment Roman just let his forehead rest against him—seeming completely content despite how uncomfortable Logan imagined the position must be. After a moment, he pulled away, placing one last kiss onto Logan’s cheek before he did so.

Logan blinked a few times, processing what had just happened as a blush rose to his cheeks. He was definitely not used to gestures such as that but, even though it was unusual, Logan had found he was decidedly not opposed.

Despite his orientation, Roman was just as passionate in a relationship as you would expect him to be. He adored spoiling Logan and reducing him to a blushing, incoherent mess—it was virtually his favourite past-time, and Logan was embarrassed at just how easy it was.

He barely caught the fond look on his partner’s face before Roman spun around—nearly spilling tomato sauce on the carpet, Logan noted—and started his way back towards the kitchen.

“Thanks, hon! Love you!” Roman called over his shoulder, words fleeting but sentiment worth more than anything he had ever received before.

Despite everything he thought he knew about himself—that the logical side was supposed to be cold and unfeeling, that he wasn’t supposed to have all of this emotion welling up inside him all the time, that he wasn’t allowed to long for casual affection and care and love—Roman… loved him regardless. Roman, who defied a million stereotypes all on his own—the aromantic, romantic side—showed him he was allowed to just be.

Though he may not experience romantic love, Roman most definitely experienced all other types of love—strongly and deeply. The love Roman gave him was precious and irreplaceable and Logan was… honoured to receive it.

He sighed contentedly, one hand raised to his cheek, feeling just how hot his skin had become.

“I... love you too.” The words were whispered and Logan knew that Roman was now much too far away to recognise what had been said, but—perhaps illogically—he hoped that the feeling reached him just the same.

Waiting for the glow in his chest to dissipate slightly, Logan returned to his book, a smile settling softly on his face where it would remain throughout the rest of the evening.

#sanders sides #logince #queerplatonic logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #lo can write #I just #I need more qpp content in my life #so I'm gonna have to keep writing it I suppose hahah #aspec sides

[tssidesfics]

Bonds, Blonds and Cons: TSSides Soulmate AU

Okay, so, this is technically not a fic.

This is the outline of a fic because I don't have time to write an 80K+ slow-burn, but I'll give you some mushy excerpts of what would have happened if I wrote this out as a whole thing. If anyone wants to steal this idea and write it, be my guest.

It takes place in the fantasy world Ennus, which has primarily emotion- and logic-based magics. Most people aren't magical, but it's well-known that magic is everywhere in all shapes and forms.

Soulmates are a more contested issue. There are only about fifty in every generation and there doesn't necessarily seem to be a rhyme or reason that anyone can figure out. There's a whole lot of myths about them, but all they know is that you typically know someone for years before you find out they're your soulmate and once you're bonded, you share minds.

However, soulmates have been historically even rarer than they are when the story starts, at a time where social movements have pushed for the liberation of youth from business-based marriage contracts and after multiple queer relationships have survived persecution to prove that they've been blessed by gods to share a soulmate-bond. Things are still pretty backwards, though, with most communities pushing people into life-bonds with those of the opposite gender for procreation and most marriages being business contracts between families, using their children as commodities.

The most progressive--and coincidentally also romantic--city in all of Ennus is Sandris, which holds a festival every year celebrating soulmate-bonds and awarding couples who prove theirs a place in the temple of their love god trio and a whole lot of money.

The most recently elected mayor of Sandris, however, is restricting that festival to hetero-only bonds and pushing laws that are forcing queer people underground, forcing Sandris to worship the god of infrastructure and politics, Ander, rather than the favored genderless triplet god of love and lust, Vells. His stance, and how he got elected, is that he wants to make Sandris a place where the wealthy and privileged can feel safe coming to, without their values being tested. Coincidentally, the Cult of Ander is one of the biggest cults in this world, and is fueling a renewed and vested hate in queer people and “uncivilized” cultures.

So most people in and around Sandris are looking for a quick trick to get themselves a soulmate-bond. Enter a flourishing business of con-artists exploiting people's naivete with get-hitched-quick schemes charging exorbitant prices.

Now meet Janus Slithertongue and Remus Proudshield. Neither had a delightful life before meeting each other, agreeing that the world sucks and love isn't real, and people are deeply, deeply stupid. So they found a business preying on desperate people looking for quick validation for their youthful infatuation.

Janus has severe facial burns that he constantly hides with a glamor charm. He can only see out of one eye, and even that requires magical aid to work right.

Janus is wandering through Sandris when he hears about a new soulmate pair, confirmed at the Temple of the Vells, who credit a person with their accomplishment. Some Patton Arkheart. Janus investigates.

He discovers that this guy has been counseling people for weeks on end, supposedly "repairing and strengthening their relationships" in the aim of getting them blessed by Vells as proper soulmates. Or at least, soulmate-lite. These guys don't often connect their minds like the legendary soulmate, the kind you hear about in fairytales, does, but they are deeply bound in the truest sense of the word.

Allegedly. Janus wants that word stressed. Allegedly.

Patton is blond. No particular reason, it just worked with the name of the story, so he’s blond. He is also the only one of this cast getting a hair descriptor. Feel free to imagine these characters as whatever skin color, it’s really not important. This is a fantasy world completely removed from race and culture as we understand it.

After spying on a couple sessions using his illusions to hide in the room, Janus decides he's gotta sniff out Patton's trick. He convinces Remus to help him investigate a rival and they pose as a couple looking for help. Janus decides they should be one of the ones obsessed with each other in a very shallow way to see how Patton reacts to it.

Patton is not very impressed. He's an empath, so he can tell the second they walk into his office that something is weird here. Plus he's just tired of being approached by couples and polycules that hooked up last week and think he can give them the shortcut to a lasting romantic connection. But he's patient and kind and does the work.

Janus cannot find the trick. He tries everything he can think of. He even tells Patton that honestly, they wouldn't care if they were really bound that way, as long as they can get close enough to fool the city, if you know what he means.

Patton calls bullshit. Patton calls enormous bullshit, confronts them about being con-artists, and lectures them loudly for about an hour about why they are being terrible people and love isn't something to minimize. It's hard work and it's beautiful, and it's people like them who are to blame for so many toxic relationships that are ruining people's faith in love.

Well, color Janus intrigued, because damn, is this con-artist very good at what he does. He couldn't spot a lie in all of that!

Well, there are certain religious and political leaders who don't like what Patton's doing. People who want the status quo to endure, and that's hard to do when you're getting literal blessings from gods telling you that business-based marriages and queer love is perfectly fine, acceptable, and that queer connections should be allowed to bond, even if they don’t “bear fruit.” So Patton gets hits put out on him.

Janus is still determined to sniff out a lie. Meanwhile, Remus is getting jealous, because the only person who hasn’t left him high and dry is now obsessed with some random “relationship therapist,” as Patton calls himself. So, Remus starts consciously sabotaging Patton’s appointments by dropping in smoke-bombs or manipulating his advice to fail his clients.

Janus is delighted to learn this and completely misses the part where Remus wasn’t doing this for the thrill of the con as much to chase Janus away from Patton.

After long enough of disaster, Patton catches Janus and Remus outside his window spying on a session. He chews them out in a back-alley and tells them that if they keep this up, he’ll be forced to turn to law enforcement, and he really doesn’t want to because “the most progressive city-state” doesn’t hold a lot of weight in a world that’s still stuck in Victorian-reminiscent gender politics.

Unfortunately, this goes very wrong very quickly, because an assassin attacks them and basically ignores Janus and Remus in favor of trying to kill Patton. Remus is maybe a little too willing to let Patton get murdered, but Janus defends him.   

I promise Remus is sympathetic, he’s just not always the best. He was born with a cleft lip and palette and immediately discarded to an orphanage. After years of difficulty eating and barely surviving, a sorcerer took mercy on him and healed the defect, although there is still  scarring and mild pain when eating. He served the sorcerer, but he was always a rambunctious and free-spirited sort with a hunger for mayhem, so he was quickly discarded as an undesirable servant. Then he met Janus, and Janus is the only person who never shied away from his eccentricities or tossed him away for things he couldn’t control or parts of who he is. Needless to say, he’s defensive of Janus, absolutely terrified that one day Janus is going to make like everyone else and abandon him, and paranoid as hell that Janus developing what is obviously a very weird crush on Patton is going to lead to his abandonment again.

Janus is completely unaware of this, despite usually being exceptionally good at reading people. The thought of abandoning Remus is so far from an option to him that he just...doesn’t compute Remus could be afraid of that.

To be fair, Janus isn’t usually the most likely to leap into a brawl to defend an innocent. He’s not a superhero, he’s a con-artist. But Patton still intrigues the fuck out of him, so saving the therapist it is.

Janus, of course, assumes that the hit means Patton conned some powerful people and didn’t make the cleanest getaway. He sympathizes, given he’s done that a handful of times and simply resorted to glamors to hide. He offers the same to Patton in exchange for his secrets.

 “I don’t know about you, mister, but I’d be very glad-mor if you stopped interfering with my business and left my poor clients in peace.”

“You are really committed to this con, aren’t you? Are you working your way into the upper crust, then? Using this con to leverage for greater gains in the future?”

“Is everything a con to you?”

“Life’s just one great big lie. The best you can do is lie well enough to get something out of it.”

“That sounds like a horrible way to live.”

“It’s served me well.”

“What made you think that way?”

“Life experience.”

“Do you want to talk about that?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well, my door’s always open if you want to change your mind--as long as it’s not a con!”  

Janus is not dissuaded. Remus continues to terrorize Patton while Janus asks questions of and cons Patton’s patients. This is turning into a long-form con. They’re mostly in the city now. Their whole lifestyle has been uprooted because Janus can’t get over “the most dedicated con-artist he’s ever met.”

Patton’s attacked again--regularly--and Remus more than once considers letting him get dead but then loses his nerve at the last minute and interferes. Patton notices a lot of anger and hatred toward him and asks about it. Remus resists a little bit, but admits that Janus is all he’s ever had and now that he’s found Patton to obsess over, it’s just a matter of time before Remus becomes old news.

Patton offers to do a session with them. It’s mostly to help, but there’s a tiny petty part of him that wants to prove what he does is completely valid and not at all a con.

Remus tells Janus Patton is ready to fess up. Janus is...dubious, but his curiosity wins out. If Patton is ready to divulge his secrets, then Janus simply can’t pass up this chance. And then he finds himself in the middle of a session.

“Son of a--”

And Patton...helps? Janus’ and Remus’ ability to work together had begun to degrade, enough that Janus had noticed, but he had a tendency to get mad at Remus rather than asking him what was wrong, which only worsened his abandonment anxiety. But with Patton mediating, Remus is ready to actually talk about it. Janus maybe isn’t the most sympathetic, but that’s mostly because he’s so bewildered and insulted by the insinuation that he could just abandon the best business partner he could ask for that he’s aghast and a little rude. Patton thinks this is going to blow up worse and starts trying to mediate, but Remus just hugs the hell out of Janus and starts crying.

And then another assassin interrupts the session. This is getting old. Now Remus is more than ready to defend Patton, except he rips the mask off the assassin to beat his face into paste and stops.

“Virgil?”

“Fuck’s sake, Remus! Since when do you defend pillars of society like some weird hero? Heroes don’t have mustaches.”

Remus helps Virgil to his feet.

“You’re an assassin now?” Janus asks.

“Money is tight and I can fight.”

“With your anxiety?”

“I’m a cursed orphan. I’m not exactly getting employed any other way.”

Remus just beams. “Wanna be a con-artist?”

“I’m a terrible liar.”

“You actually aren’t, once you get your anxiety under control.”

“That would be my problem.”

“You have anxiety?” from Patton.

Virgil, for note, has been cursed that his veins and eyes are black as midnight. He looks absolutely terrifying, but he really just has more anxiety than you can shake a stick at and a whole lot of trauma. Yes, all the Dark Sides have physical elements to their appearance that make them undesirable but are all sympathetic because excuse me while I comment on how society is fucking broken. The curse makes it that glamors don’t work, so Virgil wears glasses and masks to get by in normal society. When people aren’t put off by how he hides, they mistake him for a girl because I can’t not write a trans Virgil.

Virgil will always be trans in literally every AU I ever write. You cannot convince me that put in fully-realized personhood that character would be cis. You just can’t.

So Patton teaches Virgil breathing exercises and distraction techniques. Virgil just looks at Janus. “Is this guy for real? I tried to kill him thirty minutes ago.”

“This is the deepest, most dedicated con I’ve seen in my entire life.”

“It’s not a con!”  

So anyway, now Virgil would die for Patton, so he switches over to his bodyguard. Doesn’t pay great, or at all, but Patton makes sure he’s fed and tries to give him what money he can. Meanwhile, Janus and Remus con like masters and rope Virgil into multiple low-level ones to build up his endurance to it and cut him in for a percentage.

Patton gets a visit from the mayor, who Patton’s…never liked. Janus, true to form, eavesdrops on it, and picks up on a slew of lies, like the mayor’s concern for Patton’s welfare, in the wake of all these assassination attempts—that Patton never reported. Janus tells Patton the mayor is definitely trying to get him killed because he believes what Patton can do with soulmate bonds and it’s a threat to his political stance as a “sensible, conservative mayor who just wants to clean up Sandris and make it a respectable place for people of all elk again.”

Except this assassin problem is really getting out of hand. And then one of Patton’s clients is held ransom and murdered to prove a point. Patton is devastated and gives up helping people, because clearly the world isn’t ready for it and will only lash out and hurt the good that comes to challenge it.

Janus finally realizes that, holy shit, Patton is totally for real. What? Okay. What? Okay. What? And he finds himself vicariously crestfallen when he sees how depressed Patton is, which is absolutely the worst experience imaginable, Remus, cut it out.

Patton gets an invitation to the mayor’s home.

They stay in a rundown inn on the edge of town before the plan to infiltrate the mayor’s inner-ring--by Virgil “trying to assassinate him” and Janus and Patton saving his life--goes down. Patton isn’t sleeping and is nursing a bottle of gin, because he knows very well that resorting to alcohol consumption to numb his sadness is going to lead to an unhealthy dependency, but he’s lost everything and has now apparently been reduced to relying on criminals to survive, so at this point turning to alcoholism seems like the least of his concerns.

He gets a knock on his door.

Patton: Janus. (surprised) Hi. What are you...?

Janus: I thought you’d be moping, and here you are, watering your depression crops with booze. Painfully predictable, if I may be so bold as to say.

Patton: (looks down at the bottle) Yeah. (quiet and just...miserable) This isn’t the healthiest decision I’ve ever made, but I guess I just...don’t see the point. The thing I wanted to do with my life ended my life. Now it’s just...I don’t see the point. (brightens up and smiles too broadly) I guess we all booze a little, though.

Janus: Umph. A devastating one-two punch, that pun, my dear Patton. Both a dazzling deflection and a painful dad joke. Impressive.

Patton: I try. Wait, I mean--

Janus: (laughs) Relax. (steps inside, deliberately pushing past to Patton’s left to keep him in the periphery of his good eye, taking the bottle of booze from him as he goes and turning to walk in backwards while keeping an eye on Patton)

Patton: You can...have that...I guess. Of course, I mean.

Janus: I don’t drink. Anymore, at least.

Patton: Oh?

Janus: Botched a con after getting too drunk once. Forsook the poison ever since.

Patton: Did you have...a problem?

Janus: Who’s to determine what a problem is?

Patton: How much did you drink?

Janus: Daily. The equivalent to a couple pints. It usually kept me sharp. Until it didn’t, at least.

Patton: Yeah, you had a problem.

Janus: This coming from the man drowning his woes in the liver-killer.

Patton: I told you. Not the healthiest decision I’ve ever made. (sits down at his desk, twirling a pen in his fingers and staring down at the page)

Janus: I could be the predictable ass that I am and steal that paper from you to soothe my curiosity, or I could ask with the lingering threat that I will steal the paper from you if you don’t tell me.

Patton: Trying to put my feelings into words. It’s called journaling.

Janus: Absolutely revolting. And how is that treating you?

Patton: No matter what I write...nothing measures up. Everything I ever wanted to do was help people, and now...

Janus: Who’s to say you can’t help people?

Patton: What?

Janus: There are more ways to help people than with your silly little soulmate bonds.

Patton: You’re right, I guess. I just…I was making a real difference. With every “unconventional” love that I helped validate with a soulmate bond, everyone else felt the world get a little less oppressive. That meant something. That changed lives. And now I can, what, help little old ladies across the street? Pick up fallen purses without stealing them?

Janus: Oh, of course, because you only helped people for the glory of it.

Patton: That’s not what I said.

Janus: It’s what you meant. There are other ways to help people that aren’t mundane.

Patton: I don’t have the money to make meaningful donations to charity, Janus, and I don’t know where I’ll volunteer, when I also have to find a way to make a living.

Janus: What if I told you there was a way to make a living, contribute to society, and make a brand new life for yourself that won’t get you or your clients killed?

Patton: I wouldn’t believe you.

Janus: It also comes with revenge on the mayor.

Patton: Why would I want revenge on the mayor?

(Janus gives him a frank look.)

Patton: Oh. Right. Yeah, I guess…he is the most logical guess for who…

Janus: (sighs) Virgil could find out conclusively if you’re desperate for inarguable proof, but honestly, I don’t see how you need it. All signs point to him wanting you very dead.

Patton: Okay, okay, you’re right, I get it. He sent assassins after me because me helping queer people was making Sandris “look bad,” but that doesn’t mean I want revenge.

Janus: He got Sanrel killed.

Patton: (stops and looks at Janus) I…say I wanted to humor you.

Janus: (smirks) I thought so.

Every Sanders’ Sides AU I touch anymore somehow becomes Leverage. By the way, if you haven’t seen Leverage, go watch it. It’s on IMDB TV for free with ads. It’s worth the ads. It’s a bunch of genius criminals conning rich people out of every dime they’ve ever made and giving it back to the people wronged by them and in need. It was autistic rep (coded, but she’s not treated as an asshole and it’s a she), ADHD rep (coded but he’s definitely ADHD), and is found family for days, go watch it. I will warn that it’s behavior with alcoholism could be…improved.

So anyway, they con the mayor.

Step one: Virgil tries to kill him and Patton and Janus, under glamor, stop him. The mayor welcomes them into his home and they spout all the bullshit he wants to hear. From there, I’d need to figure out exactly how they play the con and how to make things go wrong, and while I need practice in non-violent forms of tension and conflict, I’m not messing with that here. Suffice to say, things go wrong a few times, but by the end, they’ve robbed the mayor blind and had him completely humiliated publicly. He won’t be causing any more pain from his position of power.

Patton definitely didn’t enjoy that, though. That would be wrong. Conning people is wrong, even if they’re murderers. He’s a good person. But secretly, he can admit to himself that was kinda fun and getting revenge—and avenging Sandrel—was deeply satisfying.

Remus offers Patton a position on their team as, like, an actual con-artist.

Patton: I…I couldn’t.

Virgil: But you were really good!

Patton: It’s wrong.

Remus: So making ole’ numbnuts lose all his power so he can’t hurt anyone else was wrong.

Patton: Well…no. I suppose you can use lies to do good things, but you shouldn’t have to.

Janus: And yet, we live in a society that necessitates white lies, and for justice, much larger ones than that. The sentiments that you shouldn’t have to lie and that, in order to make a better world, you have to are not mutually exclusive.

Patton: (hesitates) All I’d be doing was stopping bad people, right?

Janus: Maybe a few petty cons besides, but only on the deeply stupid.

Patton: Janus…

Janus: What? Conning stupid people is fun.

Patton: No one’s stupid.

Virgil: Uh…

Patton: That’s a mean thing to call a person!

Remus: There are definitely stupid people.

Patton: They can always be educated.

Virgil: Can they, though?

Patton: You are horrible people.

Remus: (slings an arm over Patton’s shoulder) And you’re one of us, so that either makes you our guiding light or just as bad as the rest of us.

Janus: Unless you’d rather be rid of us, of course. Perfectly understandable, if that is the case. We are all rather undesirable, after all, with our deformities and pasts and criminal goings-on. Truly a respectable man such as yourself would want to get far away from us as soon as possible.

(Remus and Virgil completely deflate and Patton looks at both of them hopelessly, then glares at Janus.)

Patton: I hate you.

So, for a while, they go around conning rich fucks, and while Janus does sneak off to con gullible people too, he finds it more fulfilling to screw over rich guys, and also more profitable.

Meanwhile, Patton and Janus are…circling each other? Janus keeps being supportive of Patton? In an underhanded, subversive kind of way. He won’t admit he’s being supportive, but he always seems to just be there when Patton’s having a hard time and always have the most asshole-ish solution to the problem. Like with suggesting Patton get revenge for having his life ruined, or tricking him into using his knowledge to help a client (or sometimes even a target). Of course, this backfires when Patton rehabilitates a rich man with issues, who then proceeds to want to make amends for all his wrongs committed from his trauma by giving to the world, completely botching the con that was going to bleed him dry.

One conversation goes like this:

Patton: So, I know why Virgil and Remus have turned to lies and crime. What about you?

Janus: What about me?

Patton: Don’t pretend like you don’t have complicated reasons of your own. Neither Virgil nor Remus would give you a chance otherwise.

Janus: You overestimate both my virtue and their morality.

Patton: So. No complicated reasons. No trauma. You’re just one truth-less cutthroat hurting anyone he wants?

Janus: Precisely. Now you get it.

Patton: I don’t believe it.

Janus: Not my fault you’re stupid.

So, yeah. Patton’s got a hunch this little con family they’ve created is just a whole bunch of traumatized people clustered together getting back at the world that hurt them with Janus as the ringleader, but he doesn’t have proof, and Janus will be damned if he lets Patton actually see any of his damage. He won’t be weak. He’ll support the others in his roundabout ways, but they will never return the favor if he has anything to say about it.

They pass through a kingdom, Terlis, led by King Romanlan and Queen Artarnia. Crown Prince Romanlan Jr. is hosting a ball during the upcoming Spring Festival to celebrate his marriage to Lady Ylana.

And suddenly, Remus is a complete fucking nightmare.

He keeps going rogue and robbing businesses—including mom and pop shops just trying to survive under the oppressive fist of too-high taxes that only serve to benefit the rich while the poor reap no benefits—and vandalizing everything in sight. Virgil more than once has to kick the asses of multiple knights (of course with help) to bust him out from being dropped off to a swift execution.

After the fifth time Remus almost gets them all executed, Janus just about takes his head off himself. “What the hell is your problem? Where is this coming from? I know you’re chaos-incarnate, but that’s usually a charming personality quirk, not a recipe for a swift and undesirable death! I’m getting tired of saving your ass, Remus! What is wrong with you?”

But Remus isn’t talking. He’s just staring at the wall hatefully with tears rolling down his cheeks. He’s a brick wall.

Patton: Let me talk to him.

Janus: Oh, please. If he won’t talk to me, the man who’s had his back since we were teenagers, then I don’t see what you could possibly do.

Patton: Maybe be a little less confrontational and a little more open to understanding his reasons rather than just dismissing them as stupid?

Janus: (stops) That’s not—

Patton: That’s how he feels. Let me try. Please. Before we get into any worse. You can criti-lies me later.

Janus: The fact you deem my deceptive side such an immutable personality trait of mine that it’s a default pun is…actually absolutely delightful.

Patton: Not what I was looking for, but okay.

So, Patton talks to Remus without Janus and Virgil and finds out this is his birth-kingdom—and more than that, those are his parents. He found out from a vindictive headmistress at his orphanage, who didn’t like his attitude or how difficult he was to take care of and wanted him to know that he would have been royalty if he hadn’t been deformed. Patton asks permission to tell the others and receives it.

“Remus, you absolute idiot—”

“Janus, I swear to Vells—”

“—why didn’t you say so? So do you want the royal family humiliated, penniless, dead or all of the above?”

“Janus!”

“What?”

“No killing!”

Virgil wishes to challenge this “no killing” rule.

Remus has never loved Janus more in his life and just kinda flings himself at him and kisses him all over except on the lips. Janus does not know how to cope with affection and kinda panics, so Remus backs off. Patton scowls at Janus and notes “reacts to physical affection as though burned with acid” down on the “list of suspicious possibly-trauma related ‘quirks’ Janus has.”

So, they need a way into the castle. They’re about to go with “Virgil tries to murder them and they save them” shtick again, but then an opportunity drops into their lap: the King and Queen are looking to other kingdoms for anyone who can help Romanlan Jr. And Ylana form a soulmate bond to cement their divine right.

As it turns out, there’ve been some…revolts. The people are supremely over-taxed, and even the knights are mistreated, despite being nobility themselves, so people are starting to fight back. The uprising keeps getting quelled, but the crown would prefer these problems to cease and a good way to do that is to have the next people to take the throne be soulmate-bonded.

So, Janus and Remus pretend to be soulmate-bonded—Remus almost too gleefully accepts a glamour as a girl to keep the more Ander-aligned heterosexual sensibility sated—and Patton takes the credit for helping them. Patton tells them firmly that he’s going to actually try to get them soulmate-bonded, but they can absolutely humiliate the king and queen another way.

Meanwhile, Virgil joins the revolt.

Janus and Remus, by the way, can pretend to be soulmate-bonded because they just know each other that well. It’s practically like they can read each other’s minds, no additional magic required.

Patton has a hunch that if they actually completed the ritual to bond, it would take, but he also knows Janus wouldn’t react well if he brought this up.

So, they meet Prince Romanlan Jr., who insists on being called Roman. He’s sheltered, spoon-fed very traditional-based education, and he’s absolutely miserable. He’s completely depressed. The first thing Patton notices is that his wife has to initiate literally all contact and Roman leans away when she tries to kiss him. And they discover that they sleep in different beds, though in the same room.

Janus: Well, he’s going to die miserable and unloved.

Patton: Janus. He’s been forced into a marriage he doesn’t want. Have a little human empathy.

Janus: Him and everyone else in this world. He’s not special.

Janus eavesdrops on Roman and overhears him and Ylana talking.

Ylana: It’s not like we can get out of this, so you might as well try.

Roman: I don’t know how, Ylana. I’m sorry, but I…I just don’t know how to love you. Or any woman. It feels wrong when you kiss me or…or touch me or…

Ylana: I know. And I don’t want to do that to you, but what’s our alternative? Coexist and barely speak?

Roman: Can’t we just be friends?

Ylana: What would your parents say if I conducted myself like your “friend”?

Roman: They wouldn’t react any better to us barely speaking.

Ylana: They barely speak. At least then we’d fit a stereotypical miserable romance.

Roman: I don’t want to be soulmate-bonded with you, Ylana.

Ylana: Me neither! But there’s a reason you chose me. I don’t want to marry. Anyone. Ever. And I don’t have a single damned problem with you pursuing that cute librarian you can’t get enough of.

Roman: Logan has better prospects than me. Besides, if we got caught…

Ylana: You’re going to be king in a few years. No one can touch you then.

Roman: I don’t know. I just feel…suffocated.

Ylana: This is the life we have to live, Roman. What else is there for us?

Roman: Striking out on our own. Taking the world adventure by adventure. Conquering monsters, saving damsels in distress. Being heroes.

Ylana: That’s not reality. Those are fairytales.

Roman: They should be real.

Ylana: The world isn’t going to change, Roman. If it could, we would, but it can’t, so why bother? (sighs and hugs him) Please. I don’t want to be married to someone who can barely look at me.

(Roman sighs and hugs her back.)

Janus approaches the others with what he heard, and Patton gets a brilliant idea: set the king and queen up to lose the throne, set Roman up with that librarian, and then they can legitimatize and stay in an accepting kingdom.

Virgil and Janus burst out laughing. Remus is thoughtful.

Virgil: Uh…Remus? You think this is idealistic bullshit too, right?

Remus: I mean, Patton’s good at this sort of thing.

Janus: No. Absolutely not. I am a conman, not a matchmaker!

Patton: Can’t you be both?

Janus: You’ve corrupted Remus, you absolute monster. He used to scorn the name of romance, too. What have you done to him?

Remus: Romance is still gross, but Roman’s my brother and he doesn’t seem awful like my parents, and as long as I still get to make his life a little bit hell, he might as well have someone who makes him as happy as you make me.

(Janus stares at Remus and then just gets up and leaves.)

Patton: (sighs) Mr. “I Have No Tragic Back-story, I’m Just a Bad Person, Never Mind My Trauma Responses.”

So, the plan is convince the king and queen the treasury’s been bled dry by their extravagance, so they take what money they let them have, abandon the kingdom, and coincidentally later get arrested and executed as wanted thieves. Meanwhile, they have to rom-com this bullshit with Roman and Loganis, or Logan, who works for the royal library and wishes he had political power, because he has ideas.

Logan is painfully awkward. Autistic, because I don’t understand how you can write a neurotypical Logan, like seriously, with high social anxiety that he overcompensates for by trying to avoid people altogether. But then you put him in front of another human being and actually make him converse with them and he’s a stuttery, slightly panicky mess. When Virgil meets him, Virgil immediately goes “kindred spirit” and suddenly Logan has someone to talk to who doesn’t cause him immense anxiety?

Logan also assumes Virgil’s whole…getup is sensory related and just generally doesn’t care about it. His eyes being covered means Logan doesn’t have to make eye contact, so yay.

Except this causes problems because Roman sees Virgil and Logan bonding and his depressed ass completely gives up, and Patton has to come up with some bullshit about soulmate bonds only working if both parties have good friends outside of each other, which is true to some extent. You should have friends outside of your romantic partner. Please have friends outside of your romantic partner, but I understand if it’s hard to make friends. Still. But yeah, it being a requirement is…not as much a thing. You mostly just need healthy ways to deal with your problems that doesn’t require loading all of it onto your poor partner. You can support each other. Don’t be each other’s therapist or sole source of support, though. That’s unhealthy.

So, Roman’s parents push him to make a friend and start pushing him toward people he really doesn’t vibe with, so Virgil steps in to convince Logan to talk to Roman.

Virgil: Seriously. You don’t have, like…any friends besides me.

Logan: The prince tries to socialize with me a lot. I…think he’s just being nice? I can never tell, but I can’t think of a single logical reason why he would want to befriend me. I’m barely aristocracy. My father’s the son of an Earl with barely a nice hut to his name and my only claim to privilege is this position in the library. It doesn’t help that my entire family is seen as “odd.”

Virgil: Maybe you should just…have a conversation with him. One.

Logan: I don’t know how.

Virgil: You’re having one with me.

Logan: Yes, but you make sense. Everyone else…

Virgil: Look, I get it, but maybe he doesn’t care that you’re a little odd. I have other friends who don’t care that I’m a little odd.

Logan: What should I talk about?

Virgil: Linguistics.

Logan: No one except you wants to hear me talk about linguistics.

Virgil: Well, if he likes to hear you talk about them, then you know he’s a good person.

Roman likes to hear Logan talk about linguistics.

While those two hit it off, Janus uses his apparent knowhow of how the aristocracy and treasuries work to further their con to make the king and queen believe they’ve run their kingdom into the ground, which goes splendidly until they call in foreign aid: a man known for his brilliance with royal treasuries, Lord Bultwin.

And this is where it gets triggering. I’m going to keep it as implied as possible, but Janus reacts like someone with serious trauma. To just be blunt, he was groomed. I’ll bold anything that feels like too much and you can skip to the summary of this whole part if you can’t read Janus’ trauma responses. Also, this involves attempted suicide, and Janus has to actually get talked down. Again, I’ll keep it as minimal as I can, but just be safe.

The king and queen summon Janus to the throne room to meet the person he’ll now be answering to. Patton and the others are worried about the stability of the con, but Janus already knows he’ll be able to play mind games with this idiot. It won’t be a problem. But then he walks into the throne room and sees him and just…freezes.

I cannot make myself write a believable interaction between these two, so just…Bultwin is an absolute creep and Janus is a brick wall.

You might’ve noticed it from the lack of anyone touching Janus under any circumstances outside of cons, but you don’t touch Janus. Not without permission, which you’re unlikely to get. But Bultwin won’t stop. No matter how many glaring nonverbal cues he gets that this isn’t welcome, he won’t stop. And he keeps making jabs at Janus’ intelligence, talking about how surprised he is that Janus made it on his own, no matter the treasury is getting into the ground if they’re depending on Janus, no offense, Your Majesties, but Janus only seems intelligent.

And the worst part is, Janus is handling this entire interaction without either Remus or Patton. He went alone to this meeting.

When he gets back to his quarters with Remus, he’s just…gone. There’s nothing in his eyes. He walks through the door, closes it, and sinks to the floor. Remus tries everything. He tries singing his favorite songs. He tries suggesting they go vandalize things. He suggests they go terrorize Patton. Something. Anything. Janus, please, say something.

Eventually, Remus, desperate, guides Janus to the bed and runs to get Patton. He’s hysterical as he explains that he’s never seen Janus like this. He’s been distant and angry after nightmares, but never this.

But when Patton gets there, Janus has already covered it up. But he can’t hide how his hands shake. He can’t hide how he won’t come within arm’s reach of Patton or Remus. He values his personal space, but he doesn’t back up like a wild animal when you approach him. Not normally. But it’s like now, Janus can’t trust them to respect his boundaries. But still, he talks in his usual ways, although a little less collected, and just tells them there’s been a slight hiccup. It’ll be fine. He has it under control.

Janus doesn’t have it under control.

He learned manipulation tactics from Bultwin, from being subject to them for so long. But turning them on him…he just freezes. Bultwin touches him and he can’t think. And Bultwin won’t stop touching him.

Janus tries desperately to salvage the situation, but it’s too much and he has a complete breakdown. He writes a letter to Remus begging forgiveness, but he can get revenge. Kill his parents. Whatever. But Janus can’t make everything he’s done for him up to him. He’s too weak.

0And then he goes up to the highest tower in the castle.

They don’t know where Janus is. All they have is a letter and sinking feeling that if they don’t figure it out right now, there won’t be a Janus much longer.

Which is when Patton tells Remus there’s a way to bond with someone, as long as you have all the other stuff necessary, without them being part of the ritual. It exists basically for this reason: in case one party in a bond is compromised, then as long as they still love and value and support their partner wholeheartedly and as long as they will, when the crisis is past, still value the connection, you don’t need their active consent.

Patton tells Remus this is something he’s theorized through his research, but it’s never actually happened before, but they better hope.

So, they do the ritual. After a long, tense, hopeless moment, Remus gasps and his mind connects to Janus, who almost falls from the tower at the surprise of it.

Remus: Janus, stop!

Janus: What—? (looks around) Remus?

Remus: (chokes on a sob) I guess soulmates are real, after all.

(Janus just…stares off sightlessly, and Remus gets to witness the things he went through. Remus chokes and stumbles back.)

Remus: Oh gods. Janus—I’ll kill him. We’ll kill him. Just…please. Please get down.

Janus: You deserve revenge, and I can’t…I’m not…

Remus: Fuck revenge! I don’t care if my parents live to ripe old age as happy as possible as long as I still have you!

Janus: You don’t mean that!

Remus: Of course I do! You’re all I’ve ever had! You’re the only person who I know is always going to be there. Who’s always going to listen to me. And I’m the only person you know is always going to be there for you. Fuck the rest of the world, Janus, as long as we have each other.

Janus: I’m…I’m not in love with you.

Remus: I’m not in love with you, either. Kissing you sounds gross and weird and wrong, but that doesn’t mean…just get down. Please.

Janus: I…I don’t…

Remus: I’m falling right after you if you jump, Janus. I won’t live without you.

(That finally stops Janus, which, by the way, not the ideal way to talk someone off the ledge. Kind of bad, actually. But sometimes things are really serious and you’re really desperate, and it’s not like Remus is lying. If you have to resort to something like this with a friend, just both of you make sure you get help. Nobody should feel like they have to die rather than be without the other. Grief is immeasurable and terrible, but you will find things worth living for. I promise. You just have to survive long enough to see the light.)

So the con momentarily gets derailed, because this isn’t just revenge, this is taking a dangerous, evil man out of the population. When Remus tells Patton—with Janus’ very begrudging permission—the rough idea of what happened, Patton…something burns inside Patton. For Janus. For the world, that something this horrible could be allowed to happen. He tries to think of a way to rehabilitate Bultwin but anything he thinks of can’t penetrate a mind that depraved as to think doing that to a child is acceptable. So, they decide to curse him.

Remus is the one who finds the spell and enacts it. When they explain to Janus what it will do—force Bultwin to feel everything his victims have ever felt—Janus actually tries to stop it. “No one deserves a punishment that heinous.”

“He did it to you,” Patton says gently.

“Yeah, but I’m—”

“No one deserves that, Janus. But the only person who might is the one who can do it to others. You’ve always been the most vindictive person I’ve known. If it was Remus who’d suffered, what would you do?”

Janus lets it happen.

It literally drives Bultwin mad. He’d rationalized his actions away, created excuses why he wasn’t really getting off on other people’s suffering, and being hit with all of it…it literally drives him mad. He doesn’t survive the guilt.

Summary: Bultwin, the creep, renders Janus incapable of continuing the con from trauma and triggers. Janus almost commits suicide, but Patton helps Remus complete the ritual that binds their minds in a soulmate bond before he can and Remus talks him down. They curse Bultwin to suffer all the pain his victim’s have, and it drives him mad. He doesn’t survive the guilt.

While the whole mess with Bultwin was going on, Remus also found out that Roman’s birthday is the same as his, and they’re the same age, which means he’s now grappling with the knowledge that he had a perfect twin his parents wanted to keep. Thanks to the soulmate bond, once Janus is past his crisis, he comforts Remus over it and asks him if he wants Roman to know they’re brothers.

Remus doesn’t know yet, so they table that discussion.

Meanwhile, Roman’s parents are pressuring him to have an heir. Him and Ylana are starting to have a breakdown. Janus redoubles his efforts to cripple the king and queen.

But finally, Roman can’t handle it and runs, and now they have to track his dumbass down. Virgil takes point.

I want to get this finished and posted, and I don’t have everything else figured out and outlined. If you decide to write it, you can obviously change as much as you like, just please let someone be aroace as a favor to the person who came up with this world. But they catch Roman, depose the king and queen, and Patton and Janus actually bond and I figure are eventually romantic. They’re just very difficult and committed to their enemies-to-lovers shtick, so it’s really slow-burn.

#ts janus #ts remus #ts patton #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #tssides fic #fic idea #fic outline #slow burn #queerplatonic dukeceit #moceit #logince #trans virgil #autistic logan #autistic virgil #scarred janus #remus has a birth defect #soulmate au #but healthy #high fantasy au #therapist patton #assassin virgil #con-artist janus and remus #tw: grooming #tw: suicide attempt

[starlocked01]

Suspended in a Defenseless Test

AO3 @tsshipmonth2020

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary-  Patton never had a soul bond. He thought he was okay with God's tumultuous plan for his life- until he met Remus.

Day 7 Intruality- A red thread only you can see connects you to your soulmate

There's a red string that joins you and your true love. You all know this. It's not some fairy tale. No matter the distance,  you are connected by an unbreakable soulbond.  The non-believers and sinners like to lie and say they have red strings too but I know God only gives them to the faithful, not the homose-

Patton switched off the radio, shutting down the emphatic pastor's voice. He couldn't comprehend how a God that creates invisible soulbonds to lead his children to their complement would punish those who hadn't found him yet. He had plenty of queer friends gush about finding their soulmate because of the red strings. Why would they lie about the fear they felt as children that they would hate the person on the other end, or that the other person would hate them for being queer?

Then again, Patton had no reason to complain. He never had a red string. And according to the lastest radio prophet, that meant he wasn't of the true faith.

There's no way that man knew what he was talking about. Patton had been a priest. He knew the Lord. But did the Lord claim him?

Patton sighed, eyes on the road. Most days he didn't feel broken or incomplete without a string, but Sundays usually did their best to bring him down. God had a plan for his life, apparently it just didn't involve a soulmate. He could be okay with that.

Until he met Remus.

The man was wild and loved to do fun things unplanned, especially if they were gross. He'd show up and drag Patton out to a public park to go on a hike in the pouring rain or bring over buckets of glitter and glue to make slime. He told crass jokes that made Patton blush and always found ways to cheer him up. Even on Sundays.

Patton loved his company and secretly feared the day Remus found his soulmate and left Patton behind.

He pulled the car into the apartment complex where Remus roomed with his brother Roman and Roman’s soulmate. Patton couldn't imagine how awkward that must get, but Remus loved the arrangement. He parked and was gathering his stuff from the back seat when he felt a presence behind him.

Patton blushed, already guessing what Remus was up to and was not surprised when he looked over his shoulder to find Remus mimicking anal behind him. Remus grinned at having been caught and wrapped Patton into a tight hug around the waist.

"Remus…" Patton gave his friend a withering half-smile.

"It's been too long, Daddy. I missed you!" Remus let Patton twist around to hug him back. Patton let his head rest on Remus' shoulder a moment before pulling back with a nearly genuine smile on his face.

"The correct term is 'Father' and you know I'm not ordained anymore, Rem," Patton reached behind his back and grabbed a bag that he held up to Remus, "how have you been? I brought you this."

It wasn't possible for Remus' eyes to gleam any brighter. He took a hand off of Patton's waist to take the gift but instead of opening it right away, he took a step back and gently grabbed Patton's hand.

"Hey, can we take a walk? RoLo kicked me out for the afternoon because they're being all squishy couple-y today. And I need to tell you something."

Patton couldn't stop the flash of fear in his eyes. So today was the day. His closest friend had found his soulmate and whatever kind of dynamic they had would have to change.

Remus saw the fear and winced, "no no it's not bad, Pattycake, come on let’s walk. I won't be able to explain it standing still." Remus bounced on his toes and swung Patton's hand back and forth almost as if to prove his point. Patton gulped and nodded, closing the car door and locking it behind him before letting Remus lead him off down the road.

They walked in uncharacteristic silence for a few minutes, still hand in hand. It felt like the Mariana Trench had opened between them, horrible dark secrets waiting to come to light.

That was pattonly ridiculous to think but nonetheless Patton could not stop worrying. Remus squeezed his hand tighter and led him down a path off the main road.

"Oh, I know where we're going."

"You remember? After two years I didn't think you would," Remus smiled warmly, leading him to a clearing by a large pond surrounded by trees.

"How could I forget that day?" Patton chuckled and shook his head, "I still don't know how you caught a goldfish with a condom."

"I am a man of many talents, few of them useful, " Remus led Patton to the edge of the pond where a blanket and picnic basket were set up.

Patton gasped, "Remus, what is this?"

Remus gestured for Patton to sit down, "Patton, I have a confession to make. Do you still take those?"

Patton chuckled, sat down on the blanket, and pulled Remus down with him.

"Okay, but only for you, kiddo."

"Did you seriously call all the parishioners that? Is that why they kicked you out?" Remus' grin faltered quickly as the joke was met with sad eyes filled with regret. "Damn it. Damn me, right? I'm sorry Patton. But I do have a bit of a confession to make," Remus took a deep breath and looked in Patton's expectant eyes, "I really… really want to make us official."

Patton blinked in surprise, "but, surely I'm not your soulmate. Aren't you waiting for them?"

Remus deflated but tried to keep the energy up, "I know I'm not your soulmate, Pat, but hear me out. I understand if you don't want to because I'm not your soulmate but what I had in mind was a bit different. I want you to be my queerplatonic partner, not a romantic partner."

"Queerplatonic? I've never heard of that before," Patton mused over the word. He'd always assumed romance and love with a soulmate was the most important kind of relationship the Lord had given humans, but the most important man in his life wanted something different. And specifically not a romantic relationship.

"Okay, confession number two. I don't have a soulmate. In fact, I'm aromantic. I've never had a red string and frankly at this point I never want one. But I still want to be your partner, just not in a romantic way. You mean the world to me, Patton. I know coming to terms with queer stuff hasn't been easy for you but, well, what do you say?" Remus looked hopefully at Patton who stared straight ahead at the water rippling in the light breeze.

"What… what does aromantic actually mean then? I suppose I was wrong to assume it meant 'without love'..." Patton's voice hitched. He looked over to Remus and smiled to reassure him.

"Not experiencing romantic attraction to others, like not wanting to date them or do romantic-y bull shit with them," Remus looked away, heart crumbling as his best friend continued to avoid the big question.

"Oh. Wow…" Patton took a deep breath, "Remus, I have my own confession to make," Remus looked back to Patton, intrigued, "I don't have a soulmate either. And though I've heard of the aromantic community before, I never realized that being aromantic did not mean being resigned to never loving someone else in a deep and fulfilling way. Queer platonic partners, is that similar to dating but without the romance?" Remus nodded silently, hope reblossoming in his chest, "I think I could like that. You are so important to me, Remus. I was terrified you were going to tell me you found your soulmate and had to leave me behind."

"I could never leave you behind, pops!" Remus cried, "just imagine the catholic guilt I'd have for abandoning you!"

Patton giggled and grabbed Remus' hand, "so, I guess… yes! I want to be your partner, Remus."

Remus grinned broadly and tackle hugged Patton. They both rolled off the blanket and ended up laying in the grass and laughing with joy.

Remus sat up suddenly, "did you hear that?"

"What?"

"I'm gonna catch that frog!"

"What??" Patton watched as Remus jumped up and dove straight into the pond, holding a hand up to shield his face as mud splashed everywhere around him.

Remus resurfaced, pulling himself out of the mud with his elbows because his hands were full with a giant bullfrog who looked perturbed at having been pulled from his spot.

Patton squealed with joy, "oh, let's name him Lilypad!"

Remus chuckled, "that sounds like Little Pat, I like it!" He set the frog down in the grass, futility wiping mud from his face and slicking his hair back out of his face while Patton tried to restrain himself from immediately poking the poor animal.

Remus laid spread out on the grass, drying in the sun while Patton grabbed a stick and blades of grass to play with Lillypadton (he liked the flow of that name better). They talked for hours and shared the snacks Remus had set up before Patton arrived. Remus opened the gift Patton had brought and was ecstatic, playing with the neon green tangle toy and admiring the hand-decorated picture frame.

Something welled up deep in Patton's heart, looking at his brand new partner. They weren't soulmates but he was confident the Lord wanted them to find each other and be together this way.

After a while, Patton stood and picked Lilypadton up, returning the frog to the edge of the pond while Remus gathered up the picnic in the blanket like a giant sack that he threw over his shoulder. Patton took his other hand with a smile and they walked back to the apartment.

Remus dropped the blanket by the front door and they could hear the tv playing in the living room.

"Roro, we're back! Y'all better be decent," Remus yelled from the kitchen as he washed the worst of the dried mud from his arms.

"Yeesh! Yes, you can come in," Roman shouted back from the living room. Patton peeked his head around the corner to see Roman and Logan cuddled on the couch watching Netflix. It looked dark and potentially gory so Patton slipped right back into the kitchen with Remus.

"Hey, Pat, I'm gonna go shower off. I've got mud up my ass and it's getting kinda nasty. Make yourself at home," Remus smiled and kissed his forehead. Patton blushed and nodded.

As Remus headed off to get cleaned up, Patton sat himself down in the kitchen, preferring to leave the others alone with their movie.

"Hello, Father," Patton looked up from his phone to Logan who was standing awkwardly next to him.

"You can just call me 'Patton', Lo. I actually prefer it…"

"My apologies. How are you?" Logan asked stiffly, shifting from foot to foot.

"I'm doing pretty well. Thank you for asking. How are you today?" Patton smiled, trying to put the other man at ease.

Logan adjusted his glasses, "I am doing adequately-"

"Lo, just get the drinks. Pat's fine," Roman called from the couch.

Logan bristled, "I apologize for his lack of manners. Do you want anything to drink?"

"No thanks. And thank you, I'm sorry for intruding on your movie date," Patton sighed.

Logan moved to the kitchen to get the drinks but kept glancing at Patton. Patton did his best to ignore the looks, praying Remus would finish up quickly.

Logan cleared his throat, "Patton, are you and Remus dating? He was acting weirder than usual before you got here today."

Patton blushed at the directness of the question, "not like you and Roman are," Patton wasn't sure how to explain it to the two soulmates- if Remus even wanted to tell them.

Roman had stopped watching the television and had his arms crossed over the back of the couch, "I told you, Lo, Remus doesn't have a soulmate. He was just excited to see Pat, nothing more to it."

"Roman, he had a whole picnic planned. That's hardly something you do for just a friend."

"Guys, I-"

"Patton is my Zucchini and you two are just jealous," Remus announced loudly from the hallway. All three turned to look at him and he grinned, "come on Pat, let's leave the lovebirds alone."

Patton jumped up, eager to get away from Logan and Roman’s questions and confusion. He was also more than a little curious about being called a 'zucchini'. He could hear Logan and Roman whispering as Remus led him off down the hall to the bedroom.

"What the hell is a zucchini?"

"I don't know, Roman. Just let it go. We can ask Remus to explain later."

Patton was grateful as the door shut behind him, cutting off the rest of the conversation. He turned to give Remus a quizzical look to find him wearing the tangle toy in his hair like a crown.

"That's adorable. What's a zucchini?" Patton grinned, genuinely this time.

"Ah, sorry. I probably should have asked you first. It's like an alternative to 'boyfriend' for queerplatonic partners. We can go by something else if you don't like it," Remus grinned, patting the bed next to him to offer Patton the seat.

Patton's eyes were shining as he sat down, "oh my goodness, that's adorable! I love it! So do you want to be called my zucchini too?"

"Ehh, Nah it doesn't sound right for me," Remus frowned, laying back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.

"Well," Patton swung his legs back and forth, "what about my squish?" He poked Remus in the stomach, causing a fit of giggles.

Remus sat back up and grinned at Patton, "that sounds perfect! You'll be my zucchini, I'll be your squish, and everyone else will be confused as hell!"

Patton leaned his head against Remus' shoulder, imagining the looks of confusion when they told others.

"Oh hey, I thought of something!" Remus bounced up from the bed and went straight to the closet, rummaging around for something which he quickly found, "since we don't have soulmates, let's make this official ourselves," he held up a variegated ball of blue and green yarn.

"Okay!" We'll have to untie it before I leave but that's such a sweet idea!" Patton couldn't help but think back to when friends on the playground would do something similar, using red yarn during games of pretend to mark their friends and crushes as "soulmates".

Remus cut a decent length of yarn and gently took Patton's hand in his. He tied one end of the yarn around Patton's wrist and held out his for Patton to do the same. Patton tied the other end of the yarn with a small bow and held Remus' hand in his, smiling at his squish.

Patton felt a mild itchy burning on his wrist and looked back down at the yarn. Remus looked too, pulling his hand away from Patton's. As they watched, the blue-green yarn sparked for a minute before returning to normal.

"Well that was odd," Patton was the first to speak.

Remus looked weirded out and tried to untie the bow but found that no matter how hard he pulled, the knot stayed tied. He grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk and tried to cut the loop around his wrist but the yarn passed right through the blades without being severed.

Patton gasped and pulled the thread between them taut before taking another step back. The thread lengthened, magically longer than it had been cut. When he stepped closer it shrunk shorter, much like how other's had described their red threads acting.

"Does this mean-?" Patton asked quietly.

Remus grabbed Patton's hand and dragged him out to the living room, walking right between the couch and the television much to Roman’s displeasure.

Remus held up their bound together wrists, "can you guys see this?"

"You're holding hands and blocking the tv. Yes, we can see that," Roman grumbled at them.

"Is there something we should be seeing?" Logan asked with an edge of curiosity in his voice.

Patton held up the string, "you guys can't see the string?"

Roman and Logan shared a look and Roman answered, "I thought you didn't have a soul thread, Remus. We can't see any string. What's going on?"

Remus turned to Patton with a large happy smile, "we created our own soul bond!"

Logan sat forward immediately, "tell me exactly what happened. Don't leave out any details."

Roman sighed and paused the movie, a smile on his face seeing his brother happy. He had no clue what was going on but he could be happy for the pair and could forgive them for the intrusion.

Patton picked up Remus in a hug and twirled him around, tears of joy spilling down his cheek. They both sat down next to Logan and started explaining the thread and the sparks and the scissors. This led to Logan asking several questions about the nature of their relationship, with Roman interjecting with questions of his own.

When Patton left that evening to drive home, the string magically stretched with him over the miles. He thanked God for Remus and for blessing their unconventional relationship with confirmation they were meant to be together in the way that made sense to them.

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #soulmate au #red thread #qpr #queerplatonic intruality #intruality #logince #religious themes #cussing

[villlainarc]

(I Could Put) A Little Stardust in Your Eyes

Summary: Stars are beautiful things. They glitter in the sky, blessing all those who wander the lands beneath them with soft, silvery light, and stars, being beautiful things, help others to find beautiful things of their own.

Humans, too, are beautiful things. That’s why the stars favor them especially, granting them another to spend their life with. These are soulmates; beautiful things drawn together to create yet another beautiful thing, a fate for each person written in the stars.

Pairings: romantic Losleep, queerplatonic Roceit, platonic Logince, platonic Sleepceit

Warnings: internalized arophobia for one (1) part of one (1) scene, let me know if i missed anything else

Word Count: 12,498

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive @emo-disaster @wingedsoulmatedreamer

Notes: *shoves everything that happened in yesterday’s video aside except from the name reveal thank god for the find and replace feature* wdym roman and janus were mean to each other

for @sleepless-in-starbucks’s a meter of space contest (belated congrats on 1k and 1 year!)

fun fact i’ve been working on this since december and i remember this was based on a half-prompt or two (i think it was pining losleep from lia and then soulmate au from meri? We Can Pretend That’s Right) that i got when i asked for some but at this point i’m too tired to find the post and also if lia’s memory fails aer then i’m just gonna. Remain An Anonymous Anon fhdkfjd 

ao3

_________________________

Logan likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this: they’re beautiful, they fill the sky, bringing light to the darkest of times, they’re constant, ever-shining, they speak of a wider universe.

And of course, they lead you to your soulmate.

Now, Logan hasn’t met his soulmate, but he’s still awed by the stars.

And he doesn’t need his soulmate anyway, not when he has Remy.

Remy. His best friend, full of beauty even at his most broken. His constant, ever-brilliant best friend who convinces him that life can be more than just facts and numbers, who taught him to look at the stars as more than just stars.

Logan knows that stars are glowing balls of incredibly hot gas. He knows that they’re primarily composed of hydrogen and helium, and he knows that their colors differ depending on their temperature.

And yet, when Remy says, “Each star is a lost dream, hoping to return home,” with such conviction, Logan has no choice but to believe him. When Remy proclaims, “Stars are hope for those who have nothing but their light,” Logan knows that in many senses, he’s right. And of course, when Remy purrs, “Ah, but you see, the stars are really just the sparkles I see in your eyes come to life,” Logan can only blush.

Stars aren’t just phosphorescent spheres of hydrogen and helium, and they aren’t just a tool used to find soulmates. Remy proves that, and that’s why Logan finds he loves both him and the stars so very much.

_________________________

Remy likes to study the stars.

There are several reasons for this, and they all lead back to Logan. His best friend, his very own star.

Remy had always wondered why anyone needed the stars when the people around them could shine so brightly on their own, but then he’d seen the way that Logan’s eyes lit up when he was given the chance to talk about them.

Then, he thinks that maybe the stars exist only to sparkle in his friend’s eyes. Maybe the stars exist just so Logan’s whole being can glow when he tells Remy that “Most stars come in multiples and orbit one center of gravity,” and does he think that this could be another reason that stars are the things that determine soulmates? Maybe the stars exist solely for Logan to look so radiant as he mentions to Remy that, “The stars with the most mass burn out the fastest,” and doesn’t he find it fascinating that some of the brightest things in the universe are so short-lived?

Or maybe the stars exist so he can watch as Logan stops talking about them at the slightest hint of a smile on Remy’s face, voice falling into nothing as he sits and stares. Maybe the stars exist so Logan can look at Remy as though he is one too.

Then again, maybe it doesn’t matter why the stars exist. Maybe they and their soulmate determining properties don’t change anything. Maybe the stars can’t change anything at all, especially not where Logan and Remy are concerned.

_________________________

But nothing so beautiful lasts forever, nothing so bright will survive for long. Even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, its secrets unveiled as the black velvet lifts away.

And as morning dawns once more, all is revealed. Nothing remains hidden, and the protection of everything held dear is no longer granted so willingly. In a world where light once again reigns and all is laid bare, something as fragile as the happiness Logan and Remy share can not and will not possibly survive.

Every beautiful thing must die, after all.

_________________________

They meet Roman first.

Roman, who Logan’s star finally shines for. Roman, the beautiful, perfect man who’s demeanor is just as bright as Logan’s star. Roman, the actor, the celebrity, Logan’s soulmate.

Logan is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? This is Roman Prince, after all. He’s everything anyone could ever dream of having in a soulmate. And Remy’s not jealous of that, not jealous of him.

He’s not.

Remy likes Roman. He’s eccentric, but caring and sweet and sensitive and better with emotions than Remy will ever be. Logan deserves someone like him, someone who’s the fire to his ice, someone who’s just the right amount of extra to serve as Logan’s foil, someone whose head is high enough in the clouds that he lifts Logan ever so slightly from the ground upon which he’s so determined to stay.

Remy likes Roman. He likes that Roman is Logan’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Remy sees how easily they fit, how precisely they slot into the other’s life. They’re soulmates—of course they belong together. Of course they fit, of course they work, of course they’re… perfect.

Remy doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Logan has a soulmate who’s thousands of times more wonderful than Remy could ever hope to be. Of course he does. Remy shouldn’t have ever expected any different, not for Logan. Logan deserves all of this, deserves Roman and his romantic tendencies and pampering and love. Logan deserves all of that and so much more.

And Remy, no matter how much he cares for Logan, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

They meet Janus next.

Janus, who Remy’s star finally shines for. Janus, the handsome, perfect person whose intelligent eyes shine with more intensity than any star in the sky. Janus, the flirt, the sophisticated and elegant, Remy’s soulmate.

Remy is, of course, immediately smitten. Who wouldn’t be? After meeting Janus, you’d understand how hard it would be to not fall in love with them. He’s everything anyone could ever want in a soulmate, and Logan isn’t jealous of her. Not jealous at all.

He’s not.

Logan likes Janus, truly. Janus, who’s so smooth, suave, and charming. Janus, with words like gold and a tongue of silver, so much more eloquent and self-assured than Logan could ever dream of being. Yes, Remy deserves someone like them, someone who can give him everything he’s ever wanted and more, someone who can wax poetic about him with all the ease of breathing, someone who’s dramatics give Remy’s heart a reason to soar.

Logan likes Janus. He likes that Janus is Remy’s soulmate, believes that two people so perfect must be right for each other.

And they are. Logan can see how easily Janus can bring a blush to Remy’s cheeks, how much she can make him smile. They’re soulmates—of course they make each other happy. Of course they laugh together, of course their eyes are brightest when they meet each other’s, of course they’re… perfect.

Logan doesn’t know what he’d expected. Of course Remy has a soulmate who’s trillions of light-years better than Logan could hope to be. Of course he does. Remy deserves all of this, deserves Janus’s brilliant mind and sparks of romance and love. Remy deserves all of that and so much more.

And Logan, no matter how much he cares for Remy, could only ever be so much less.

_________________________

On the night Logan and Remy have their first kiss, it’s raining—storming, really. The raindrops fall in sheets, and it’s a struggle to see anything more than a foot away. The sky has clouded over too, and the world is lit only by neon signs and street lamps, car headlights and refractions. There isn’t a single moonbeam to light the sky and not one star glimmers.

Perhaps that’s why they feel emboldened enough to talk to each other—really talk to each other—to confess, to pull each other close, to put everything they’d ever known in jeopardy. Perhaps, once the source of their fear had drifted out of sight, Logan and Remy understood for the first time that there was nothing to fear at all, that there never had been.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of starlight for city lights that causes Remy to take Logan’s hand without a care for who’s watching, to spin him around with a laugh beneath a sky full of storm clouds, to twirl him ever closer before they stop in the middle of the sidewalk—does that all just to see his face, to have him near, would have always done all that and more. Perhaps it is the way the neon lights are reflected in the sheen of water on Remy’s face that causes Logan’s breath to catch in his throat, perhaps it is the fact that the raindrops coating Logan’s glasses looked like stardust that causes Remy’s heart to do that same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that lifts Remy’s hands to Logan’s face, keeps their eyes interlocked, lets the words “you’re beautiful” spill out of one of their mouths, out of both of them, out of none. The words might have been spoken with the way their eyes sparkled, hearts pounded, breathes quickened, smiles deepened, but they are there, floating in the air between them. They’re there as Remy wipes the streams of rain from Logan’s face like they’re tears, with an impossible sort of gentleness reserved for only the most precious of things. They’re there as he continues to brush his thumbs over skin dark as night and just as beautiful, they’re there as smiles fade into hopeless longing. They’re there as Remy’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Logan responds with a nod, both imperceptible to anyone outside of the now silent world of their own creation.

This time, Remy knows he says, “You’re beautiful, Logan.” He knows this because he feels Logan’s cheeks heat up beneath his hands and though his self-control had been a lost cause from the start, any that he may have still possessed vanishes in an instant. Remy’s eyes slip shut, and he’s falling.

Remy and Logan kiss like falling stars, doomed from the very moment their lips meet. They kiss like a star about to go supernova, like they know their time is limited to this instant and this instant alone. Their kiss is Gliese 436b, a paradox that occurred against all odds. Like Gliese 436b, the world around them is so cold, and yet they burn from the inside out. They are shooting stars, and they wish upon each other, neither wanting time to start up again, for everything to fall in on itself, for their universe to collapse.

But they burn too brightly to survive for long, so a collapse is inevitable. The light that was their kiss transforms to the complete absence of it as they both go dark; for Remy and Logan are not only stars, they are also a black hole—cosmic quicksand, dragging each other into the unknowable as they hold on with everything they are and it is still not enough, never enough. They can’t hold on forever, and so they must let go and they must breathe. That is their first mistake: extinguishing their shared light.

As they stop burning so intensely, they make their second mistake: allowing the light to stay dark. They still have their hands placed in rain-soaked waves of hair, running over cheeks streaked with what could be raindrops or tears, gripping wet shirts that cling to torsos, gliding over arms made smooth by water, but they will not kiss again. And that is a terrible, horrible thing because it allows for mistake number three.

Their third mistake is one that would have happened one day, even without mistakes one and two, one that is so inescapable that nothing could ever dream of stopping it. The third mistake Logan and Remy make is allowing for their once-burning light to collapse in on itself, to fall apart so thoroughly that the place they shared their kiss will never again allow anything near it to shine that brilliantly or at all. The street lamp that watches over them now will never again be illuminated after tonight, impossibly dark no matter what lightbulb is twisted into it. The car headlights that pass by will flicker, and any neon signs nearby will dim before going out with a pop of sparks. The collapse they will allow creates a darkness so profound that one cannot pass under the street lamp, stare into the headlights, wander past what used to be a neon sign without shivering—not from the cold, but from an atmosphere so desolate that anyone who bears witness to it will remember it with a feeling like a dagger to the heart for the rest of their days.

Their third mistake brings about an all-encompassing darkness, but the all-encompassing darkness is a result of the collapse that precedes it, a collapse that begins when Logan untangles one hand from rain-soaked waves of hair and yanks the other away from its grip on a wet, clingy shirt, and a collapse that is their third mistake, not the darkness that follows. The collapse only grows more devastating as Logan, still gasping for air, breathes out an apology. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the rate of the collapse increases astronomically.

“Why are you sorry?” Remy asks, about to destroy any hope that the black hole they’ve created might not rip entire galaxies apart. “Did you not want to kiss me, babe? No, forget I asked that,” he laughs, shakes his head, interrupts himself before continuing on a course set towards destruction, “of course you wanted to kiss me. I know you, doll, and I know you wanted to kiss me, and you said you wanted to kiss me, and I know that you love me. You must, and even though the stars say you don’t, I know you do and I know I’m right.”

“Remy,” Logan breathes, not wanting to say anything else at all. “Remy, I—” he hesitates once again, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest hitches as Remy leans forward in anticipation. Logan wants to prevent the shattering of the hope etched on his face, wants to offer an explanation that could somehow minimize the damage of the most destructive thing in the universe. But he doesn’t. He, in fact, does the exact opposite of that. By simply saying, “You’re wrong,” Logan has effectively sealed his and Remy’s fates.

“No,” Remy says, walking over broken glass with his voice, “I’m not wrong. You’re lying, babe. I know you are.”

In a sharp contrast to Remy’s, Logan’s voice is colder than space itself, freezing anything remotely human immediately and without remorse. “What does it matter? We both have soulmates, and mine is not you.”

“What does that matter?”

“What doe—” Logan looks incredulous, and the divide between him and Remy widens as he takes a step back. “I’m afraid I don’t see what you mean. Soulmates aren’t the sort of thing you can ignore quite so easily.”

“Come on now, babe. You of all people have heard stories of people who never find their soulmates, who find love in other places, who—”

“But those people haven’t found their soulmates. That’s the point, and that’s where we differ from them. We have found our soulmates, and ignoring the stars so blatantly will only break their hearts. I refuse to do that.”

“They’ll understand though, I know they will.” Remy’s voice sounds infinitely less sure than it had when he’d begun this conversation. The conviction has drained from his words, drawn into the endless depths of the ever-growing black hole.

Logan shakes his head, expression closing off entirely. “No. They won’t, and you know that as well as I do. You’re only deluding yourself if you truly believe otherwise.”

“Babe—”

“Please don’t.”

Remy knows what Logan’s tone means. That discomfort, that refusal to accept the pet name that’s normally thrown around so very casually, that icy expression twisting for barely the blink of an eye into involuntary fondness—Logan does love him. Not that Remy had ever doubted that fact, not really, but the confirmation is a comfort to hear. “Logan, then,” he amends, making a point to speak his name as reverently as possible, fitting as much love and adoration into one word as he can. “Logan, my darling, my dear, my light, my star—you will never know until you try.”

Logan, as a general rule, doesn’t blush. His skin is too dark for the red heat rushing to his cheeks to stand out and even if that wasn’t the case, he is impossible to fluster. But tonight, under a street lamp that will all too soon flicker out for good, Remy can see the barest hint of color gracing Logan’s cheeks. His mouth opens as he tries to form a response, but it shuts again just as quickly.

“No,” he settles on after a moment that had stretched on for a short eternity. “No, I am not going to risk hurting them. I care for Roman, and Janus is… she’s important to you. So we will not speak of this again. It would be best to forget this happened entirely.”

“Logan—” Remy begins, saying that name with the same sweetness he’d used before, reaching a hand across the darkness between them with a wish for one last brush of his hand against Logan’s cheek, one last touch.

Logan takes another step backwards. “I think it would be best if I didn’t see you for a while.” Another step. “I’m sorry,” he says. I’m sorry for kissing you when I knew I shouldn’t, I’m sorry if you loved me and I hurt you by pulling away now, by always pulling away, I’m sorry for falling in love with you when I knew we were never meant to be. I’m so, so sorry, he doesn’t say.

“I—” I love you, Logan. Nothing you do now or ever will change that, Remy doesn’t reply. “I’m sorry too,” Remy decides to say instead.

As the black hole from their supernova of a kiss forms fully, Logan walks away, rain streaming down his face once more, tasting oddly of salt when a droplet catches on his lips.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, Remy stands beneath the street lamp, watching him go before the lights surrounding him all flicker out.

As the black hole from the supernova of their kiss forms fully, as Logan walks away, as Remy stands beneath the street lamp, every spark of hope either of them had ever held is extinguished by the rain that pours down around them; each dream of what could have been is consumed by the black hole of their own creation.

Everything beautiful must die, after all.

_________________________

Roman has been fighting for perfection his whole life.

From the moment he was born, he’d been expected to do everything right. Not one slip-up had been allowed, not one action that could in any way be perceived as wrong.

He’d been able to appear flawless—he still can, of course, and he doesn’t want to know what would have happened if he hadn’t been. His smiles glitter, the light hitting them just right each and every time. His grace is unprecedented, his skin unblemished, each curve of his muscles chiseled to perfection. Roman’s ideas are always polished when he presents them, and you’d have to comb through hours of footage to find a second of any of his performances that could be considered anywhere near average, and you simply wouldn’t find anything below that standard. Each word he says is picked out meticulously, long before he plans to speak them, and each laugh is even more carefully timed.

There is not a single aspect of Roman that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—star status, money, friends, fans—and it’s all due to his absolute perfection.

And it was hard to get there. God, it was hard. Being held to such a standard, constantly on display, each move he made being judged to the highest extreme imaginable—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But for Roman? This has been his life for as long as he’s lived it.

The only thing that’s ever-so-slightly imperfect about him is the distinct absence of a soulmate in his life. It’s okay though! The world is more accepting these days, and soulmates no longer define you. The fact that Roman doesn’t have one hardly ruins his perfection.

Still, though, it does. The world may be more accepting, but not having a soulmate is far from destigmatized, and Roman is the only person of his caliber to be so very… flawed, in that sense.

He tries not to show how much it hurts to be looked down upon for something entirely out of his control, but it does. It hurts, and it hurts more than he will ever say. Roman’s fight to be perfect is doomed to fail unless he can manage to fix how utterly broken he is.

So that’s why, when he meets Logan and their stars light up the whole sky, he falls hopelessly in love in the very next breath he takes. The stars chose Logan for him, and the stars would not be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Logan is, what he’s like, if he likes Roman in return—it’s all negligible.

It’s all so very negligible because now, at long, long last, Roman is perfect.

_________________________

Janus has been perfect his whole life.

From the moment she was born, everything they’d done had been effortless. It was unfathomable that he’d make a single slip-up; not one action that they could ever make would be perceived as wrong.

Janus is, of course, far from perfect—and to be completely honest, he’s not sure why anyone would view him as such. Sure, she’s impossibly suave, causing anyone who crosses their path to swoon with the slightest of winks and sure, their cleverness enchants anyone who hadn’t yet fallen for them. Even with half of his face horrifically scarred, she is still one of the most utterly gorgeous beings to have ever lived—all glitter and mismatched eyes and charm, lit from within with confidence and smirks and eloquence. His words can convince anyone of anything, yes, but that isn’t to say that they’re manipulative. That would make him imperfect, and Janus is not imperfect—she is quick-witted and full of class, voice sugary sweet in a way that can’t possibly be genuine and yet is almost always entirely so.

There is not a single aspect of Janus that wouldn’t be considered enviable. He has everything—a brilliant mind and looks to match, riches, influence, people who would kill for them—and it’s all due to her indisputable perfection.

But the thing is—they aren’t perfect. Appearing to be perfect doesn’t mean that they actually are. And now— now he can’t be imperfect. Now, she’s held to a standard she can’t possibly keep meeting, constantly being observed and studied and judged—to anyone else, it would be impossible.

But Janus? They make this impossibility look effortless.

The only thing that offers him any reprieve from his neverending performance is the fact that he doesn’t have a soulmate. It’s the one thing that keeps her even slightly imperfect, and Janus is perfectly fine with it staying that way. All they want is to prove—one flaw at a time—that they aren’t infallible.

Still, though, no one believes him. They’re kept on a pedestal, their lack of a soulmate going completely ignored. Everyone she knows remains stubborn in the belief that she can do no wrong.

They try not to show how much it pains them to be living a constant lie, to never be allowed to act in a way that’s true to who they are, but it does. It pains him, and it pains him more than he will ever say. Janus’s quiet struggle to be herself is doomed to fail unless she can manage to prove to someone how truly broken she is.

So that’s why, when he meets Remy and their stars light up the whole sky, he nearly falls apart right then and there. It doesn’t matter to them why the stars had chosen Remy for him, and not only because the stars wouldn’t be wrong. It doesn’t matter who Remy is, what he’s like, if he too feels panicked and suffocated by the very idea of a soulmate—it’s all negligible.

It’s all hopelessly negligible because now, on a day that’s come entirely too soon for her liking, the stars have torn away her one hope at being perceived as imperfect.

_________________________

There is no such thing as perfection, not a single person who could ever be considered flawless. Even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the multitude of stars that pierce the night.

And as the sun does rise, each fissure that’s torn its way through each person is revealed. In the harsh light of day, there’s nowhere to hide and each stain lain upon a pristine world is thrown into sharp relief. Unable to conceal anything else, darkness retreats and, having been so thinly veiled, there was never any way Roman and Janus’s perfection could have withstood the onslaught of daylight.

The idea of perfection is a beautiful thing, but like all beautiful things, it can never last.

_________________________

Roman loves Logan. His boyfriend is brilliant and funny in a dry way Roman hadn’t ever thought he’d grow to adore, and Logan’s mind is one of the most beautiful things Roman has ever had the honor of being in the presence of. He is in awe of the darkness of Logan’s skin and how he can run his own hands over it, making golden lights spread over the night sky of Logan’s face or take Logan’s hand in his, causing warm starlight to glow from between his fingers.

And Logan is his soulmate. The stars brought them together, and Roman couldn’t be happier, couldn’t be luckier.

Roman loves Logan, really, he does, so why are his eyes constantly drawn to Janus? Janus, Remy’s soulmate. Janus, with the scar on his face that they make beautiful by framing it with shimmering golden highlights and the confidence to wear it proudly. Janus, whose smile could light the night sky all on its own. Janus, whose winks and compliments cause Roman to melt a little more every day. Janus, who— oh god. Janus, who—

Janus, who Roman’s in love with.

Janus, who Remy’s in love with, who’s Remy’s soulmate.

Janus, who isn’t Roman’s soulmate. Janus, who he can’t be in love with. Janus, who wouldn’t ever love him.

Roman realizes this, of course he realizes this. He understands that he will never be allowed to be with Janus, no matter what he may want. He knows that he still cares for Logan, albeit not in the way he’d originally thought. Spending his life with Logan won’t be so bad.

Even if Janus is right there, her gorgeously mismatched eyes taunting him every time they’re in the same room. Even if they continue to wink, to smile, to compliment, to flirt, Roman knows they cannot ever and will not ever be together. No matter what he may want.

So he ignores his feelings. Ignores Janus’s incessant winks, his smiles, compliments, flirtations. Roman ignores it all, making a point to dote on Logan ever more, take him on increasingly extravagant dates, use every opportunity he can to kiss him. He knows that doesn’t equate to love. He knows that he isn’t proving anything to anyone. But what else can he do when his mind short circuits every time Janus so much as looks at him, when it goes completely blank each time they laugh?

Nothing. Roman can do nothing about this, and it’s driving him insane. So what if this doting, these lavish dates, those unabashed displays of public affection are all performed to stop himself from further examining his own feelings? So what if it isn’t truly helping? So what if he can’t help but imagine running his fingers through Janus’s hair even as his hand ghosts over Logan’s? So what if he dreams that the fingers his are laced with belong to Janus instead? So what if fantasizes about holding them close to his body and burying a kiss in her hair while it’s Logan who leans against him?

Most days, faking everything works. Most days, everything feels almost normal. He’s been a perfect actor his entire life, and he’s not about to stop being one now.

And if no one notices that something isn’t normal, then maybe nothing is.

_________________________

Janus loves Remy.

…That’s a lie. He doesn’t love Remy.

…That’s not quite true either, though. Because they do love him, they do love his snark and sarcasm, his smirks and coffee-brown eyes so often hidden behind his sunglasses. It’s not true at all, really, because she does love all that and more. Just not in the way soulmates are, according to society, supposed to love each other.

So they aren’t in the wrong exactly, and she isn’t truly lying every time they tell Remy ‘I love you,’ but he also isn’t truly free of blame either. Her feelings may not be her fault, but the way they handle Remy’s feelings is. So she’s careful, so incredibly careful. His actions don’t betray a thing. To an outside observer, he would appear to be utterly, perfectly in love.

But that’s just the thing. She’s not.

…That’s a lie too. They are in love, just not with Remy.

At least, that’s what he thinks he feels. She thinks she’s in love, but then again, they’ve never been in love before. He has no idea, if he’s being honest, what love feels like. All she knows is that when she looks at Roman, she feels something entirely different than what she feels when she looks at Remy.

Remy feels like comfort and stability—something to hold onto when the rest of the world falls to ruin, a star that remains set in the sky, guiding you home.

They’d always been told that romantic love would feel like fire—something that burns on contact, a wonderful, searing pain that scorches you from the inside out, illuminating the best parts of you and incinerating the worst.

Whereas Roman… Roman feels like sunlight—something that’s not quite intense enough to burn on contact but still managing to light up corners of you that would otherwise remain hidden, casting shadows on things you’d rather not see, a ray of light that fills you with warmth and happiness and something just slightly to the left of what you’d imagine true love to be.

Janus doesn’t know a word for that feeling, though. It’s not quite as intense as love has been described to her as, but what else would it be?

No, they’re definitely in love with Roman. Roman, who’s spun of sunlight and pure gold. Roman, who’s outer physique betrays just how strong he is inside. Roman, with his bright laughter and genuine words and a mind full of ideas so intensely radiant no one else could have possibly dreamt them up. Roman, who she could wax poetic about for hours on end.

Roman who, yes, is Logan’s soulmate and not his. But that’s just a technicality, isn’t it? No star had ever stated that soulmates had to be strictly romantic. And the stars are wise. Soulmates were their gift to the world, they wouldn’t mess something like this up. Society is what dictates that soulmates indicate romantic attraction and romantic attraction alone.

And society is often wrong, is it not?

So perhaps Janus and Remy are, in fact, still soulmates. Perhaps Roman and Logan are as well.

But perhaps they’ve all been wrong about the sort of soulmates they are.

But then again, what if Janus is wrong about this? What if the stars do only deal in romance and her feelings for Roman are nothing more than infatuation? What if—god forbid—society is truly right this time? What if they just… choose to ignore their gut feeling this time? What if it’s better to continue pretending, just in case? Because what if he’s the reason Remy’s heart breaks, that Logan’s heart breaks, that his own heart breaks when he realizes his love for Roman is unrequited?

Yes, that’s what she’ll do. Keep pretending. Doing anything else won’t be worth the pain.

So Janus goes on pretending—pretending to be in love with Remy, pretending to be perfect. At times, it comes as easily as breathing. But at other times, she has to imagine Roman’s face in the place of Remy’s. Replace pale skin for golden, add warmth to his eyes and hair, sharpen his jawline and cheekbones, fill out his frame with just a touch more muscle. Pretend the cocky smirk is a blinding smile. It’s still easy enough, most days, and that’s all that matters.

They’ve been pretending their whole life, it’s not as though anything will go wrong now.

_________________________

The day of Janus and Roman’s first kiss is not “most days.” It’s the opposite, really. Logan and Remy aren’t there, for one. Janus is awake before the day has truly begun, and the scene in front of him is painted with golden fire. The sky is perfectly clear, and the only thing needed to light up the world is the soft glow of the sun.

Perhaps this radiance is why Roman too is awake at such an early hour. Perhaps that’s why he’s sought out Janus, why he’s approaching the steps of their porch with such light in his eyes. Perhaps, once the dark of night had passed, the truths Roman and Janus had held so close are finally brought with them into the dawn.

Perhaps, then, it is the trade of a midnight-colored sky for one spun from gold that causes Roman to fit himself next to Janus on the top step without a passing thought spared for the rest of the early-morning stillness, to allow his hand to linger just slightly too close to hers, to watch as the slow rise of the sun creates a perfect halo around their head. Perhaps it is the warmth of Roman’s hand that rests so close to theirs and the matching look on his face that causes Janus’s breath to catch in her throat, perhaps it is the way that the sky full of fire sets Janus’s eyes alight that causes Roman’s heart to do the same.

Perhaps it is everything that was and is that convinces Roman to place his hand over Janus’s, interlocks their fingers, lets the silence linger for a moment, for an hour, a year, a lifetime. The silence persists and though there is such intense meaning in the heat that ignites in their eyes and in the way their hearts pound, breaths quicken, faces glow—the air remains heavy without their voices to fill it. The world goes quiet as Roman lifts Janus’s hand off the ground like it’s a rose made of glass. It stays quiet as he becomes transfixed by the hand resting in his own, it stays quiet as he looks up to meet eyes of molten gold and sunlit skies. It stays quiet as Roman’s gaze asks what words cannot, as Janus responds with a nod, both actions imperceptible to the rest of a world still held captive by sleep.

Like the breaking of porcelain, Roman’s voice shatters the silence with the words, “You’re beautiful, Janus.” The destruction of something so pristine is more than fine though because as he says this, Janus’s face begins to glow with even more warmth and any restraint Roman may have previously been inclined to show vanishes in an instant. Unwilling to break anything else, Roman’s eyes stay open as he falls.

The kiss Roman lays on Janus’s hand is delicate, softer than the drift of cherry blossom petals floating to the ground. He’s impossibly careful with every movement he makes, picking his way through a cluster of thorn-covered roses—both avoiding drawing blood and basking in the beauty that surrounds him. Roman may have only kissed Janus on her hand, but that simple action causes both of their bodies to go alight with tongues of fire. They are the coming of dawn, bright and brilliant and inevitable; they revel in their warmth and the hope that they represent.

Sunrises don’t transform into black holes, don’t destroy everything they touch, don’t cause the universe to collapse. They simply are, certain and pure.

Nothing is ruined when Roman lifts his lips from the back of Janus’s hand. There is no tragedy that follows his next breath, no misfortune that befalls him. He merely sits there, breathing, living, waiting for Janus to make the next move as his hand remains wrapped around theirs.

“What was that?” Janus asks finally, choosing those words to fracture the silence while already knowing the answer to them. It was a confession, a confirmation, a spur-of-the-moment decision, a kiss.

“A kiss,” Roman replies, echoing Janus’s thoughts. “Did I overstep any boundaries?”

“No, no. I would have stopped you if I were uncomfortable.”

“Then what is it, my dearest?”

“I just— I need to think. I promise it’s not anything you need to worry over, but… I need time.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Roman says, worrying anyway.

Janus’s head drops into their hands, and the world falls into silence once more. With nothing else to do, Roman leans back on his arms and lets his mind wander aimlessly as well, trying his best to stop himself from catastrophizing. He replays the kiss in his head, a soft smile growing on his face before he gasps and his eyes go wide with a realization.

Pushing himself off the ground, Roman turns to Janus. Placing a hand lightly on her knee, he proclaims, “I think you’re my soulmate, Janus.”

Janus blinks, startled. After going completely still for a moment, the reply he ends up giving is, “Are you sure?”

Now it’s Roman’s turn to blink in incredulity. “Yes, of course!” he says, a slightly conflicted frown growing on his face. “I know I have to have a soulmate because everyone has a soulmate and I know I don’t like Logan in the way you’re supposed to like a soulmate because the feelings I have for him are in the same vein as the feelings I have for my other friends—really, I’ve begun to think of him as my best friend because I do love him so very much, just not like that—and I love you in a different way, so you must be my soulmate. Since I can’t— I can’t just not have a soulmate, it has to be you. I love you, Janus, and I love you differently, so this is the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Roman, darling, that’s not how soulmates work.”

“What do you mean? Of course it is!”

Janus takes a deep breath, resolving to keep his voice gentle upon realizing he’s likely about to completely shatter Roman’s world-view. “Soulmates aren’t strictly romantic, you do know that, right? Often, they can take the form of a best friend or, when one or more of the soulmates in question is aromantic, a queerplatonic partner.”

“That can’t be right,” Roman says, scrunching up his nose in thinly veiled disdain. “Soulmates have to be romantic, that’s just the way things are.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, love,” Janus says, tacking the bit of affection onto the end to soften their words. “They don’t have to be romantic, and there are more cases than you can imagine that prove that. Your soulmate is determined by the glow of your star, not through your own interpretation of how you feel. You may love me, but that doesn’t mean I’m your soulmate.”

“So then… what are you saying? Do— do you not love me as anything other than a friend and you don’t want to properly reject me? Is that why you’re making up this elaborate story? Or is it because you don’t want to hurt Remy or Logan? Or—”

Janus cuts him off before he can come up with anything else. “What? No, it’s not that at all! Besides, Remy and Logan are so clearly in love that I don’t think they’d mind us being together at all and—” Janus cuts themself off, clearing their throat. “—and we can worry about those two gay disasters later. That’s not where I was going with that, apologies.” She rakes a hand through her hair before continuing with considerably less frantic energy, “I’m telling you the truth, Roman. I wouldn’t make something like this up, especially not since I—” Janus frowns suddenly, cutting off her words.

“You…?” Roman prompts, a glimmer of hope spreading across his feature.

Taking a steadying breath, Janus replies, “Since I— I love you too. But,” they add, holding out a hand once they see Roman’s mouth open, words on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t think I love you in exactly the same way you love me.” When Roman’s joy turns to confusion, she quickly begins speaking again. “It’s… a bit hard to explain, in all honesty. I know I don’t love you in the way I would love a friend, but at the same time—” Janus stops, unsure of how to continue. “You know how romantic love is supposed to feel like fire?” he decides to ask, changing approaches entirely. “And how platonic love feels like… a fixed star?”

And, weirdly enough, Roman does know. He understands Janus’s strange comparisons because he feels exactly the same way, and he’s so startled by the way that they’ve apparently seen into his heart that he merely nods in response.

“Well,” Janus continues slowly, “what I feel for you is something in between. Think of it as sunlight, almost. It’s still a force of golden heat, but it feels less like burning and more like a soft warmth that saturates your entire being. It may come from a fixed star, but the sunlight itself is more fluid and of a far warmer hue. It’s love, undoubtedly, but not exactly in the way you’d think of it.”

Roman nods again, Janus’s words resonating with him in a way nothing has before. Then, realizing again what she’s saying, shakes his head rapidly. “No. No, you’re wrong. That sunlight feeling is what I feel for you, and I know that’s romantic love. It has to be. Just because it’s less fiery than we’ve been told it should be doesn’t mean it’s not romantic love.” Roman shakes his head again, repeating in a whisper, “It has to be.”

“I’m not telling you what you’re feeling, Roman. Your sunlight feeling can still be romantic, I’m just trying to explain that mine isn’t.”

Roman knows, somehow, that his sunlight feeling isn’t romantic either. Calling it romantic simply doesn’t feel right, but he ignores that sense of wrongness. If this isn’t romantic love, then Roman has never felt romantic love and that means he’s broken and— “I can’t be broken,” Roman rasps out.

Janus reacts immediately, taking Roman’s face in her hands. “You aren’t broken.”

“But if that sunlight isn’t romantic love—”

“I told you it could be,” Janus interjects.

“—and I know it’s not and I’d only be lying to myself if I said it was—but if that’s the only thing I’ve ever felt that gets even sort of close to fire, that means I’ve never felt real romantic love and that means I’m broken.”

“No, it doesn’t. You aren’t broken,” Janus repeats again, the sunlight in their eyes turning her gaze that much more intense. They take a breath, taking one hand from Roman’s face to run it through his hair almost unconsciously. “Have you heard of the term ‘aromantic?’”

Roman shakes his head slightly, careful not to dislodge Janus’s hands from where they’re currently tangled in his hair and brushing over his cheek.

“It refers to someone who doesn’t feel romantic attraction in the same way the term ‘asexual’ refers to someone who doesn’t feel sexual attraction. Neither one means that the person is broken, or unfeeling, or in any way flawed. It’s simply a part of who they are—and a part of who I am.” Janus untangles his hand from Roman’s hair before shifting to sit on his knees. “Whether you also choose to adopt this label or not, whether you relate to it or not, whether you want to wait and find out more before you do anything or not, you, Roman Prince, are. Not. Broken.” With those words, Janus raises herself up until her forehead is level with Roman’s, resting it against his. “You. Are. Not. Broken,” they repeat, putting as much emphasis as they can on each word without screaming it.

“Thank you,” Roman says, and he means it with all of his heart. “I love you,” he adds, and he means it not as an afterthought, not in the way that feels like fire, and not in the way that feels like a star, but in the way that feels like sunlight.

“I love you,” Janus replies, and he too means it in the way that feels like sunlight.

She tilts her head down, Roman tilts his up, and their lips meet in the middle.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is full of warmth, of passion, of love.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is in the light of a sunrise that’s barely begun.

The first kiss Janus and Roman share is, even with all of their flaws, somehow, someway, impossibly perfect.

_________________________

“I kissed Janus.”

“That’s nice, Roman dear.”

“Logan, I love you with all of my heart, but did you hear a word I just said?”

Logan blinks, looking up from his book. “Of course I heard you, darling. You said you kissed Janus, which to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure why you expect me to have some kind of reaction to—” he freezes, realization lighting his features. “Oh my god. You kissed Janus.” A thousand different emotions flash across his face at once; relief and betrayal, joy and pain, uncertainty and fear and confusion. “Explain,” he finally settles on saying.

“Easy. I love them, and they love me. When two people fall in love, they often choose to—”

“Roman.”

“Right, sorry. Before I continue though, I feel like I should mention—and this may seem a bit out of the blue, but I promise it’s relevant—you’re in love with Remy.”

“…I’m what.” Logan peers at Roman through squinted eyes, his deadpan voice at once skeptical and utterly baffled.

“In love with Remy, but I’ll get back to that in a second. Firstly though, have you heard of queerplatonic partners or queerplatonic relationships?”

“I am familiar with the terms, yes. What does this have to do with—”

“Shh, just listen for a moment, Lo.”

Logan raises a sardonic eyebrow, not saying a word as he waits for Roman to continue.

“Yes, silence is good for listening,” Roman says with a grin. “Anyhow, what I was getting at is that essentially, Janus and I are in love, just not in the way one would be… romantically in love like, say, youandRemyare.” Roman coughs at the end as though clearing his throat. “He taught me about how he doesn’t feel romantic feelings for me, but rather something just a bit… different. I realized I felt exactly the same, she kissed me, you know the drill. That moment had all the makings of a perfect love story, if I’m being honest,” Roman swooned.

“That’s lovely, but I’m fairly certain that I, and not Janus, am your soulmate.”

“Ah, that’s where Janus’s genius comes in. Again.” Roman fluttered a hand to his chest, swooning once more. “They did research on that exact topic after realizing that ignoring their feelings would only lead them to more pain that they didn’t need, and you know what she found?”

“…Am I supposed to ask you a question for dramatic effect?”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Logan sighs. “Whatever did she find?” he drones, barely an iota of energy put into his look of mocking curiosity.

“Close enough!” Roman declares. “Since you asked so kindly, I’ll let you know that Janus found out that soulmates—drumroll, please—don’t have to be romantic.”

Logan’s exasperated expression dropped from his face immediately and his whole being seemed to brighten with new hope. “What did you just say?”

“Soulmates! Don’t have to be romantic!”

“Are you certain?”

“Are you doubting the research capabilities of the love of my life?”

“I thought I was the love of your life.”

“Exactly!” Upon seeing Logan’s frown, Roman amends, “I mean, you can both be! That’s what’s so great about this discovery! Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, and in fact, there are so many precedents for them not being romantic that I’m shocked, I’d never heard a word about any of them before today.” Roman’s bright expression dimmed the smallest bit as his voice became more serious. “My point is though, you can both be the loves of my life since there are so very many types of love to be expressed and I have a nearly infinite supply of love to go around.”

“Oh.”

Roman looks at him incredulously. “‘Oh?’ Is that all you’re going to say?”

“If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll provide you with a more satisfactory reaction. I need to think about—”

“—what this means for you and Remy. Yeah, I know, I get it. You love him and he’s the best friend that you could ever ask for and you don’t want to ruin that by changing the label on your relationship.”

“…No. Not that at all.”

“No?” Roman asks, sounding genuinely confused. “Was that… was I not right?”

Logan tilted his head from side to side in contemplation. “Mm, those were my feelings before, but then—” he suddenly clamped his mouth shut. “Never mind.”

“No, please continue.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Aw, come on Lo. I won’t be upset.”

“Oh, I know you won’t, not after what you just explained. I’m more worried about— about Remy right now.”

“Sorry?”

Logan takes a deep breath. “I kissed him.”

“You what now?”

“Or he kissed me, or… it’s a bit of a blur, actually. I can’t seem to remember exactly what happened, but—”

“Logan, love, why would Remy be upset with you because you kissed him?”

“It’s not— it wasn’t—” Logan scrunches his face up as though trying to hide the emotions reveal themselves upon it. “It wasn’t the kiss.”

“What was it, then?”

“It’s… after the kiss, I… may have freaked out just a bit and decided it would be best for us to leave each other alone… ‘for a while’ I said, but I meant indefinitely.”

“Logan.”

Logan holds up a placating hand. “I’m perfectly aware that this was a terrible decision on my part, but in all fairness, I have never once claimed to be good at handling my emotions, especially not ones as overwhelming as what I feel for, uh. You know.”

“For Remy,” Roman says, looking expectantly at Logan. “You realize you’re going to have to admit out loud that you love him someday, right?”

Logan coughs awkwardly, looking to the side to hide his flushed face. “Yes, for— for Remy. Yes.”

“…That’s a start,” Roman concedes. “Now, what do you plan to do about your grade-a idiocy?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Yes, well, perhaps you should’ve.”

“I’m aware, Roman.”

“Would you like some assistance?”

“With… apologizing?”

“Mhm.”

“You know, I think that’s one thing I’ll be able to handle myself. I just have to call him, and everything will—”

“Hold on, hold up, stop right there. What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

Logan freezes, fingers hovering just above his phone screen. “…Calling Remy to apologize to him?”

“After breaking his heart, you’re going to apologize with a phone call?”

“That was the plan, yes. Why?”

“Because that’s a terrible apology!”

“As far as apologies go, I think it’s actually pretty standard.”

“Sure, but this is the love of your life, we’re talking about, Logan. You can’t apologize to him over the phone. You need to shock him with a romantic gesture so grand that he’ll have no choice but to forgive you!”

“Do you think— do you think there’s a chance he won’t forgive me?”

“No!” Roman corrects quickly. “That isn’t what I’m saying at all. I just think that this is a bigger deal than you’re pretending it is, so a bit of romance certainly couldn’t hurt.”

“You may be right, but I’ve never…” Logan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Well… if you don’t want to do something too grand and romantic, you can at least take him somewhere special.”

“Like a fancy restaurant?”

“No, not quite. More like… someplace that holds meaning for the two of you, you know?”

Logan lights up, positively glowing. “I think I have just the place.”

_________________________

“Remy darling, have you left the couch at all today?”

Remy pouts in response. “So what if I haven’t? I’m in emotional distress, babes.”

“Hm,” Janus hums. “While that’s fair, I still don’t think merely sitting around all day is going to do much to help with that.”

Remy’s pout grows. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

Janus laughs lightly. “Come on a walk with me? You need to leave the house again someday.”

“I don’t, actually. You’re a fancy lawyer, so I can become a lonely hermit who never leaves his house with no consequence. Besides,” he grins, and after so much practice, it hardly looks forced at all, “I have you, and what more could I want?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, but they don’t comment. “How about if you come on a walk with me anyway, and if you really want, we can even go to that criminally overpriced coffee shop you like so much.”

“The one that’s over a mile away?”

“That’s the one.”

“And we’d have to walk?”

“Remy, darling, walking is good for you. A mile is hardly anything, anyway.”

Remy continues pouting, hoping that something in his face will make Janus relent. “You’re starting to sound like Lo—” his voice gives out, and he has to clear his throat to continue sounding unaffected, “—like Logan,” he finishes. “And why do you want to go on a walk so much anyway?”

“I have something I’d like to talk to you about, and if we start having a conversation while you’re seated, you’ll inevitably start pacing around the room. I’m just taking preemptive action to avoid that, love.”

“Good point, but now I’m worried. What do you want to talk about?”

“Come on a walk and I’ll tell you,” Janus says, a wry smirk on his face.

“This is blackmail.” Remy looks at Janus dolefully, his pout having taken up permanent residence on his face at this point.

“Oh, you don’t have to come if it would inconvenience you that much. I can always go out and get coffee by myself.” She blinks innocently, knowing perfectly well that no matter what she says now, Remy’s mind has been made up. There’s no way he’s going to be able to sit at home knowing that Janus wants to talk to him about a very mysterious, very anxiety-inducing something.

“You know what—” Remy trails off mid-sentence, realizing he’s been beaten. “I’ll get my jacket,” he says begrudgingly, finally standing up from his spot on the couch.

Janus smiles in reply, standing up to go wait by the door. “Good choice.” When Remy returns, leather jacket wrapped around himself, they gesture to the now-open door. “After you.”

“Thanks bunches, doll. Now,” he says, the moment he’s stepped past the threshold, “what’s this you wanted to talk about?”

“Why don’t you wait until we get outside at the very least? It wouldn’t do for us to have made it all the way out the door only for you to return home after barely a minute.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses, Janus, my darling, my love, light of my life.”

“I would never,” she replies easily. “That’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Sure it is.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“Just… walk down the stairs. That’s all I ask, love.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t possibly complete such an arduous task.”

“Remy—” Janus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. The task is arduous, I’m just skilled enough to complete it without even breaking a sweat.”

Janus raises a skeptical eyebrow, shaking their head at that. “Why do I put up with you,” she deadpans.

“Because you love me,” Remy sing-songs, bounding down the stairs ahead of them.

“How could I forget,” he murmurs, watching Remy with thinly veiled amusement.

“How indeed,” Remy agrees, having just barely overheard them from partway down the staircase. “Now come on, I don’t want to be kept waiting after you’ve mentioned an important conversation.”

Janus descends the stairs after Remy, silent until they reach the bottom.

“What’s up?” Remy asks again, stuck to Janus’s side once more like a lost puppy. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s… wrong, exactly. And we aren’t outside yet,” she points out.

“That’s not ominous at all, babe.” Remy rolls his eyes, but Janus can tell he only does it to mask his nerves.

“I suppose it is,” Janus muses.

“…So’re you gonna elaborate on that?”

Janus steps outside. “One block first, so you don’t decide to turn back as soon as I start talking.”

“You’re stalling,” Remy points out, but he doesn’t press the issue any further.

“So I am.”

The two walk almost one full block in companionable silence before Remy asks again, “What d’you want to talk about?”

“It hasn’t been a block yet,” Janus insists.

“Technicalities bore me. Spill.”

Sighing, Janus says with no preamble at all, “I kissed Roman.”

“Stop right there, hun. Now, I’m sorry, but you what?”

“Kissed Roman,” they repeat.

“Anything else you’re going to say about that? At all?”

“So many things.” Janus takes a breath, opens his mouth, closes it again.

“Go on then,” Remy says, gesturing for her to do so with a nod of his head.

“Right. Essentially, soulmates aren’t necessarily romantic, and I don’t love you in a romantic sense. I don’t love Roman in a romantic sense either, technically—but that’s an explanation for another day. All that matters right now is that, provided you’re alright with it, Roman and I would like to be in a queerplatonic relationship and would far prefer to be nothing more than friends with you and Logan. Close friends,” he adds, “best friends, even, but not romantically involved. There’s precedent for this sort of thing if you’re wondering, and I can pull up a few sources that I have saved—”

“No, you know, I think I’ll be fine without a lecture. I get the picture, but what do you expect me to say? That I’m not heartbroken, that I wasn’t ever in love with you either?”

“Pretty much, yes.” Janus narrows their eyes at Remy. “You aren’t heartbroken, and you weren’t in love with me, correct?”

“I, uh—”

“You don’t have to lie, especially not after I told you the same was true for me.”

“Yeah, okay. I haven’t been in love with you, I just thought that you loved me and I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you the opposite was true.”

“Well, you can stop that now. And you can admit you’re in love with Logan.”

Remy freezes. “Sorry?”

“You’re in love with Logan.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, but how did you manage to figure that out?”

Janus fixes him with an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“…Yes?”

“Oh, Remy, darling, your crush was so obvious that I’m shocked the entire world didn’t see it.”

“It was?”

“Once I knew to look for it, very much so, yes. And you’re aware Logan loves you too, yes?”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure you’re wrong there.”

“And I’m pretty sure I’m not. What makes you think he doesn’t love you?”

“Well, he sorta kinda said that we shouldn’t ever speak to each other again? And like, he kissed me before that—or maybe I kissed him? And I know I was a bit pushy afterwards with confessions and all that, but I thought he was alright with me kissing him or with him kissing me and I’d been certain he was in love, but then he sort of freaked out, so I’m getting a few mixed messages. But at the same time, I think saying ‘we shouldn’t see each other for a while’ is a pretty clear rejection, don’t you?”

“I think that Logan’s a moron sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“Hush now, I meant that in the kindest way possible. He’s not very skilled at recognizing or dealing with his emotions, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong—”

“I know.”

“—but I’m still not sure if he meant it?”

“He didn’t, Remy. I can assure you of that.”

“How do you know, though?”

“Observation. That, and the fact that he tried to distance himself from you after your kiss. He didn’t want to hurt you.” Janus pauses in mock contemplation. “That, or he truly does hate you with his entire being and never wants to see you ever again in his entire life.”

“What?”

“I’m kidding, darling.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Janus says, echoing Remy’s previous words back at him with a smirk on his face.

“Mm, right.” Remy goes silent for twenty whole seconds before speaking again. “But like, should I talk to him? Just in case, or something?”

“Well, I don’t think that’s entirely necessary, and Roman should be updating him on this whole situation as we speak, but if you think you should clarify, then I suppose you— hang on.” Janus frowns, pulling their phone from their pocket and answering it.

“Roman? Yes, I’m with Remy. Why do you ask?”

She goes quiet, listening to the voice on the other end of the line before replying, “Oh?”

They laugh lightly. “Anything for you, love.” A smile still on his face, he hangs up and puts his phone away.

“What was that about?”

“That? Nothing, darling, nothing at all. If you feel so inclined though, you might want to stop by wherever it was that you first met Logan.” Janus gives him a knowing smile. “Just a thought.”

“What if I choose not to?”

“Well, I can’t exactly make you go, but I think you’d regret it if you didn’t.”

“And that means…?”

“I’m afraid that’s Logan’s secret to tell, not mine,” they say, blinking innocently. “Now, unless you absolutely have to get coffee, I’d recommend you go find the love of your life. It’s getting dark, and I wouldn’t want you to lose your way.” She flutters her fingers in a wave, turning away. “Feel free to join me if you’d like, though.”

Even though they’d offered, she knew that Remy, of course, would never put anyone or anything before Logan and sure enough, when she turned back, Remy had already vanished around the corner.

_________________________

Everyone is made of stardust; each and every creation born of the remains of long-dead stars. This dust scattered across the universe at the dawn of time, forming galaxies and planets and stars—so very many stars—continuing to do so until the inevitable heat death of the universe, a constant cycle of creation.

If everyone comes from beauty, it only makes sense that they all contain it within themselves too, and it only makes sense that all creation is, in some way, magically, enchantingly interconnected. It also makes sense, then, that the stars—having come before nearly every other object in the known universe—understand these connections better than any other. Once those facts are taken into consideration, it’s no wonder at all that it is the stars that determine soulmates, and it’s the most widely accepted scientific theory as to why they do.

Logan knows all this about the stars, knows that everything that is and was is connected in impossible, unimaginable ways.

Remy knows this too, knows that things that come from beauty have every capacity to be beautiful themselves.

They both understand this, and yet it has taken them so long—so long—to apply that knowledge to themselves. It’s only as they walk alone upon tree-lined paths lit by twilight and look up at the sky, the first stars twinkling in their eyes, that they realize that if everyone and everything is beautifully connected, then they are too. And if they’re connected so beautifully, then what force in the universe could possibly keep them apart?

_________________________

“Do you think they’ll manage to work everything out?”

“Logan and Remy?”

“Mhm.”

Janus laughs, and it sounds like a fairy tale, like a golden bell forged from magic. “Contrary to popular belief, Logan is smart, so—”

Roman snorts, and it doesn’t sound like anything more than it is. It’s not poetic, it’s not the sort of thing to be lingered on in pretentious descriptions—it just is, and that’s why it’s perfect.

“Don’t laugh,” Janus says, laughing, “He is, albeit incredibly oblivious.”

“You can say that again.” It’s a muttered phrase, never one meant to be taken seriously, but Janus hadn’t ever claimed to play by the rules.

“He is, albeit incredibly oblivious,” they deadpan before continuing as though Roman hadn’t let out a laugh like light itself, shimmering so brightly that even in its softness, it couldn’t be missed. “But either way, I have no doubt that if you could come to your senses, they will too.”

Roman shoots up from his position lying across Janus’s lap. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice may sound offended, but the glimmer in his eyes betrays him.

“Oh, nothing at all, darling. I was merely implying that if Logan is oblivious, then we would need to invent an entirely new word to describe you.” Roman gasps, and Janus can see so many of her own mannerisms in the movement that her fond smile grows, could only ever grow around him. “I mean that in the best, most adoring way, of course.” His smile may have been replaced by a smirk then, but it doesn’t stay that way as not a moment later, Roman kisses it away.

“Of course you do,” he says, leaving behind another kiss—this one on Janus’s cheek—before adjusting his position. Now his head rests on Janus’s left shoulder, and he has much easier access to the line of their jaw and unfairly beautiful cheekbones (for kissing purposes, but also for admiration ones). “I know you love me.”

“Lies and slander,” Janus claims, but she’s burying her rapidly reddening face in Roman’s hair to breathe in the sunshine and cinnamon, so her words hold little weight.

Roman only laughs again, and this time Janus can feel the way the time pauses for the briefest of moments as their boyfriend blankets the world with his own form of magic, with a laugh that feels like fairy dust.

When the world resumes its usual rotation, Roman is smiling at him again. “I know you love me,” he repeats.

“I love you,” Janus agrees, voice softer and more honest than it’s ever been. Roman melts into him, humming contentedly as his face turns upwards, eyelashes fluttering in a silent request. And how could Janus possibly say no when her boyfriend has eyes burning with such light?

Janus kisses Roman, and the sky blazes with sunshine and fire. They meet, and they are a kilonova, showering the universe in gold. They aren’t soulmates, and they aren’t quite in love, but they are everything to each other and more and somehow, some way, they are perfect. So perhaps it’s fitting, then, that they aren’t soulmates. A word such as that couldn’t possibly define all that they are.

They both know intrinsically that there is no such thing as perfection, that it’s human to be imperfect. They know that some cycles are forever fixed and that somethings are meant to end.

So even though they know this and even though they may not be soulmates and even though they are aware that it is because of the stars that they met and because of the stars that they’re together, Janus and Roman will still never go gently into darkness, into the night. Just because they understand that perfection is an impossibility does not mean that they will not fight for something as near to it as they can get in every waking moment.

And as they rage against the dying of the light, the golden star that illuminates the world fights too, and it rises once more. Bathed in its glow, Janus and Roman are both unwaveringly confident in the fact that this moment, this sunrise, this picture-perfect kiss is… perfect. They know without a shadow of a doubt that no matter how unlikely, how impossible, they are perfect.

_________________________

“It’s been a while since we were here,” Remy muses, cresting the top of the hill, smiling when Logan comes into view. “I’m glad to be back.”

“Me too,” Logan says, returning his smile, so close to appearing calm, to hiding his nerves. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“Anything for you.” Remy’s words were meant to sound cheeky, but they come out genuine in a way Logan can’t even begin to process.

Logan takes a breath when Remy is seated in front of him. “I have an apology to make.”

“Oh?” Remy cocks his head curiously. “Hun, if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I was the one who overstepped my boundaries when I shouldn’t have and kept pushing for a confession of what I thought was the truth even after you denied it so vehemently and I—”

“Remy,” Logan sighs, “you have no reason to be sorry, I assure you.”

“I— what?”

Logan takes a breath, steeling himself. “Remy, I know I hurt you when I walked off the way I did and ceased all communication with you. And I— I also lied to you that night because I was… scared. I was scared to admit what I felt because I was scared that it would hurt someone else I care about, so I denied that I— Uh, that is to say, I denied what you said. I know that’s no excuse for not telling you the truth, but I hope you can forgive me nevertheless. I’m truly sorry for hurting you, Remy.

“And I— I love you. Hurting you broke my heart, and I never want to feel like that again.” Logan clears his throat, trying to continue speaking past the emotion beginning to clog it. “In any case though, even though we aren’t star-determined soulmates, if you’ll accept me, I’d still like you to be my boyfriend, and I yours. Because if I’m being perfectly honest, no matter what kind of relationship they dictate, the stars don’t matter, not really, because I choose you. I have always chosen you.”

Remy sits there for a moment, star-struck and silent. At long last, he finds his voice returned to him. It’s breathy and barely audible, but it’s there without a doubt because Logan knows—he knows—he hears Remy ask, “Can I kiss you?”

That isn’t, after all, the sort of request you would miss for anything less than the world.

And Logan knows—he knows—he’s been gifted the most beautiful thing in existence when he replies, “For the light of my life? Anything,” and Remy leans closer and he knows—he knows—that everything in the universe is right when they collide.

Together, they are stars. And like stars, they glow brighter together, side by side before they meet and emit a light so brilliant it could be seen across galaxies. Like stars, they collide and fall into each other and become one. Like stars, once they’ve touched they steal the light from the air around them to aid their luminance, and they shine and they glimmer and they gleam and they don’t want to ever let go.

And yet, they are more radiant than the most brilliant constellations, than quasars, than every star in the sky combined—so radiant that whole galaxies pale in comparison. Logan and Remy are stars, but they are also so much more.

They are human.

They are human, and that’s why the stars look upon them with such favor. They are human and imperfect, they are human and ablaze with more dazzling, glittering, intense light than even the stars themselves could possibly fathom, they are human and they are in love.

They are human, and as they kiss beneath the clear, bright sky, they realize that this—whatever this may be—is right. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but the stars don’t make mistakes. Logan and Remy are not soulmates, but they were meant to find each other. Their kiss was meant to happen.

Logan and Remy are not soulmates. No, Logan and Remy are something ineffable, something human, something more, and if that means the stars painted their destiny in a different hue, then they are glad they can see all the colors of the sky.

_________________________

It is said that nothing so beautiful lasts forever, that nothing so bright survives for long. It is said that even the night—the mystical, magical night, a time so shrouded in mystery—must fade, along with any secrets it holds. It is said that every beautiful thing must die.

It is said that there is no such thing as perfection, that not a single person could ever be considered flawless. It is said that even the day—the glorious, golden day, a time so saturated with majesty—has its faults, its radiance paled by the stars of night. It is said that everything beautiful must die.

And it is true that beauty never lasts, but it isn’t meant to. Beauty so often exists because of uncertainty, because of the flighty nature of life. Everything beautiful must die, and that is why these beautiful moments are as beloved as they are. That is why Remy and Logan look at each other like they’re stars, why Roman and Janus allow themselves to be imperfect, why Remy allows himself to be vulnerable, why Logan admits that he’s not always right, why Roman stops putting on his never-ending show, why Janus allows themself to be truly honest, and why all of them will treasure each precious second from now until the end of time.

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

#sanders sides #losleep #roceit #platonic logince #platonic sleepceit #remy sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #aromantic!roman #aromantic!deceit #aromantic!janus #genderqueer!deceit #soulmate au #queerplatonic relationship #internalized arophobia #ts spoilers #JUST IN CASE bc the name janus is used #and why yes i am using both deceit tags sue me #writingxofink #a meter of space

[pencilpat]

Sanders Sides: College AU

Part two of this AU! Here are the character sheets for everyone. Both Logan & Janus are transfem in this AU. Prequel, Part 1

Featuring queerplatonic logince and implied future dukeceit!

Janus and Remus have some realizations about each other as they begin to settle into sharing a space. Roman attempts a confession again, with much more success. Virgil and Patton are doing well, and enjoying pulling the strings behind getting their friends together.

3,970 words

CW: brief mention of ableism from a parent, character living in poverty, swearing

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Janus leans against her wall, pinching her eyebrows with a sigh. “So, a whole coffee shop right at your disposal wasn’t enough?”

Remus barely acknowledges her, simply continuing to set up the coffee maker he purchased while she was at school, humming to himself.

“Remus, I don’t even drink coffee. How do you expect this to be of use to me? In my apartment.”

“Ah please, it’s fine! If anything, I’ll just take it with me when I leave!”

“Yeah. Leave.” She pans her gaze over what once was her living room, however small and crappy it was. It’s now covered in folded piles of Remus’s clothing and miscellaneous junk. Sighing, she stumbles out of her crutches to rest them by the door, pressing her weight on the kitchen counter. “Remus…” she begins, but doesn’t even know what to say.

Hell, this is just as strange and surreal as it was last night when she got the text. Remus looks different, older, and healthier, with significantly more piercings and obscene tattoos. She can’t tell if he did them himself or got them done, but they do suit his ‘quirky’ nature. The wisp of a mustache above his lip is now filled out and curled. Him being entirely shirtless when she got home was also a surprise. When he said he needed a place to sleep she had assumed he would be sleeping here and not much else. It makes sense that the twin’s shitty parents got rid of Remus eventually, and the thought makes her pinch her lips together tightly. She observes him working to screw tiny screws into plastic, ashamed as she finds herself eyeing his lean muscular build. She scoffs at herself and walks the rest of the way over. It's just Remus, same idiot as he was in high school – she knows him and how to handle his eccentricity.

“Remus, the instructions call for the bigger screw for that hole-“

“Oh, I bet they do!” Remus chuckles, standing up with his hands on his hips to glare at the machine like it purposefully caused him to pick up the wrong screw. “Everyone’s always looking for a bigger screw aren’t they,” he says, this dramatic, pouting lilt coating the words. She snorts out a small laugh, a sound that seems uncharacteristic for her, yet one that Remus always used to draw forth.

“I’m sure they are with you, maybe,” she says in mock sympathy. Remus stands up straight and gasps at her, mockingly offended.

“Are you only good for witty quips or are you gonna help me build this thing?”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Huh, makes sense you don’t have the energy to help then!” Remus sticks his tongue out at her and goes back to his fiddling. She laughs breathily, and walks along the walls to her bedroom, overwhelmed.

She drops against her bed like a sack, muscles aching from a day of walking. She lays against her pillows and listens to her own breathing rasp slightly. Living with the mildew is taking its toll as well, she assumes. She blindly fumbles on her bedside table for the familiar feel of her over-the-counter pain medicine, taking two dry. Too tired to get a drink. Too tired to get up much more at all for the day, most likely.

Ah, but she does have to. She groans. Bananaconda, curse you and your feeding schedule, she grits her teeth, cursing her beloved pet for being so beloved. Her snake’s cage takes up and entire wall of her room pretty much, always present in her mind. She’s one of her main joys in life though, and God damn her if she doesn’t take better care of Banana than herself. She sits up again, giving herself a moment before pulling herself up fully to standing, stumbling over to the minifridge full of mice.

Bananaconda eats very willingly, thankfully, making her life slightly easier in its turmoil. She made sure to stroke her scales gently for a moment a bit before feeding her as well. Anyone who says snakes don’t thrive on affection is an idiot in her eyes. Janus sighs, watching the monthly lump of food slip along her pet’s belly. “I’m jealous of you, baby. If only I could sleep that much.” She laughs at her own murmured words, and half-stumbles half-crawls back to bed.

She’s resolved to study in the morning already when there’s a knock on her door. She hides her face in her pillow and groans. Loudly.

“Janus! There’s a whole horror movie marathon on! Remember watching all those old things? You should come watch!” Before she can say anything, her doorknob is turning. At the very least Remus has the decency to have his eyes covered as he opens the door, but he was seemingly too excited to talk through a door.

“Remus, I’m… very tired right now.”

“Huh? It’s only like 7!”

“Remus, please.” She holds up a hand, trying to pause him. “I… I can’t even get up right now, let alone get to the living room. I’d prefer to rest.”

“Oh.” Remus pauses, blinking behind his hand. “Well, I just know you used to love them a lot. I saw you lookin’ all sad and figured it might cheer you up?”

“Even if I do want to… I can’t get up, ok? I’m sorry, I know it’s annoying and inconvenient and whatever else, I’ve heard it before-“

“Why don’t I just carry you!”

Now that does pause her. “Remus, what?”

“Y’know, pick you up! Er, if you’re decent and all.”

“Yes, I’m decent.”

Remus immediately uncovers his eyes, still seemingly slightly disappointed as she says it. “I can carry you out here! You’re not heavy!”

“What, am I going to grow extra arms to hold on or something?” She can’t help laughing. She’s a grown woman only a few inches shorter than him – he can’t be serious.

He most definitely is, she realizes, as he steps over and begins putting his arms under her legs and back. She lets out a tiny yelp, and is up in the air before she knows it. Thank god the room is dark, because her entire face goes half dark half pink with flush. “Remus!”

Remus just cackles, and starts carrying her into the living room. The lights are also off out here, and she sees in the light of the TV screen that her cabinets have been scoured as there are packets of hot cocoa on the counter along with two mugs. Remus sets her on the pull-out bed with surprising gentleness, and she sees the beginning of the first Scream playing already. Remus goes to the kitchen and comes back with a cream yellow mug held out to her, steam glimmering in the TV light. She accepts it, still a bit breathless. Remus crawls over the bed, careful with his own mug of coffee – coffee, at 7 pm, she notes – and settles beside her. Their backs are pressed onto the backing cushions of the sofa.

She watches his face, glowing excitedly as he blows on his mug. He looks enraptured by a movie she knows he’s seen at least 6 times. It’s bizarrely cute to her, and she refocuses her gaze onto the movie, though not really watching. Was he always like this? She finds it hard to remember. She doesn’t remember being so… taken with him? She used to find him more of an annoying side-piece to the friendship with Virgil and Roman – a jester to their catty monarchy - though he was genuinely good to her and enjoyed being around her. She glances again at his brown eyes, seeming slightly red when lit up. He’s laughing through the first kill of the film, that high pitched cackle he’s always done. She supposes neither of them really knew what it was like to have people enjoy being around you before that little group.

She can’t help a light chuff of a laugh at herself, taking a drink of hot cocoa. What is she thinking about right now? It’s just Remus, that dumb kid from her high school. Any amount of loneliness on her part wouldn’t be a fair reason to tug at his heart, anyways.

Janus does enjoy the cocoa, and the movies – well, the three of them she makes it through. Remus made sure she was laughing and made as many inappropriate jokes as he could. He noticed her drifting to sleep as it got fully dark outside, and didn’t interrupt her, letting her fall to sleep. Her cocoa was fully drunk, and he lets her just… rest, for a while. He’s not an idiot, he did notice how exhausted she looked from the moment she opened the door. His eyes glance away from The Bride of Chucky onto her crutches. She didn’t have those in high school. Flitting back over to her face, Remus sighs out a low breath. Three years is longer than he thought, truly.

The molded apartment and impoverished conditions aren’t… new, for her, either. Virgil brought up to him once, during a panic attack, noticing Janus living in her car through most of the time they’d known her. Of course, himself and his brother were too rich and privileged to notice something like that. He glares at the television spitefully. If he had known, if she had ever mentioned it, if, if, if. Whatever. It’s unchangeable, and now he’s also cut off from that money and lifestyle. Turns out rich actors aren’t fond of ‘schizo’ sons. He shakes his head out from the thoughts as the marathon’s end title pops up, downs the last of his coffee, and then crawls off the bed. It doesn’t feel right to physically move her, so he sets the two blankets and pillow down on the kitchen floor and resolves to sleep there. Faces flit at him from the shadows of a new environment, but he's too at peace to feel distress.

“Heh, night Janus,” he whispers into the silent room. “Enjoy the bed.”

---

Apparently 9 pm on a Friday was the best Logan could manage, as their texts show, and Roman is chugging coffee just in case. Patton and Virgil will not stop being lovebirds in the living room, and Roman seethes over his mug at them from the chair across from the sofa.

“Geeze, Rom, if you glare any harder you might actually put holes in us,” Virgil chuckles, sitting up just slightly, laying against Patton’s chest and stomach. This only makes Roman glare harder at him, and Virgil rolls his eyes. “Roman, dude, it’s ok. We have the plan remember? Subtly clearing out once she gets here?”

“You could just go now!” Roman whines, very loudly.

Patton giggles at him. “Roman, c’mon, you know she thinks it’s a friendly hang out! She would be confused if it’s just you when she gets here.”

Roman groans, but he knows they’re right. It feels… icky? Just weird, to do to her, but if Patton thinks she’ll be ok with it, he trusts their advice. Roman takes a large drink of lukewarm coffee and pulls out his phone again. He is still in dress pants, his black gloves, and a slightly undone blouse despite Virgil and Patton having chosen to be in pyjamas. Casual elegance is always his expectation for himself, even when a cutie isn’t due over any minute. His phone has yet to show any signs of Logan getting any closer though.

Only a few minutes later, it seems Logan just doesn’t announce her arrival. Roman lets out a startled squeal as a knock comes on the door. He instinctively hides behind his hands for a moment, and Virgil laughs at him. He huffs and stands up to open it to her, coaxing his cheeks to lose their flush. He pulls the door open with a smile, and finds her standing calmly, dressed in a simple black polo shirt and jeans, the porch lights glinting off her piercings. Shockingly it’s the most casual he’s ever seen her, and he’s caught staring at her. The undone top button may as well be pornography as far as her usual attire is concerned.

She clears her throat. “Roman? Are you ok?”

He stands up straight, nodding. “Yeah- Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Why don’t you come in.” He bows to the side and gives her room to enter. She raises and eyebrow and smiles just slightly and his unnecessary grandiosity. Logan walks inside, already knowing where the living room is due to visiting Patton here once or twice. Roman trails behind her, brushing at his white streak of hair, tucking it behind his ear. He tries to watch her move without actually staring, her light and poised way of walking enrapturing him as always.     

“Hello Patton, hello Virgil,” she waves as she walks in, settling on one of the other free chairs that doesn’t have Roman’s cup on the table beside.

“I made coffee if you would like a cup? I even let it cool so I can put some ice in it!”

“That’s very kind, Roman, thank you.”

Roman smiles, proud of himself, and practically skips to the kitchen to get her a glass. Virgil turns his head to look at her, picking up the remote to turn off whatever gameshow was on previously. He switches to Netflix and smiles. “Going for the classic Doctor Who tonight, L? Or did you have anything new you wanted to check out?”

“I actually have not watched any of Doctor 12, my studies really picked up before I could get that far.”

“Actually shocking you haven’t seen Matt Smith yet,” Virgil teases. Logan raises her eyebrows at him with a playful smile. “Just saying, you’re a nerd for this show, I figured you would have seen literally everything it has to offer.”

“Eh, school has always been top priority, even if it means not doing much else.”

“Still, you should schedule in a free day, or something. Just like, a day for doing things for fun.”

Logan seems to consider it, touching her chin. “That is true, doing things for enjoyment is a necessary part of life – it’s just difficult to fit it in, what with work and school taking up almost every day I have.” She shrugs, closing her eyes with a sigh.

“You need something fun, Lo!” Patton calls, obviously already sleepy based on their voice. “Even if it’s a silly show or just going out to eat instead of… well, eating oatmeal for every meal.”

“I like oatmeal,” she retorts, sitting up slightly and crossing her arms.

“You like other things too, though!”

She sighs and nods, conceding. “You’re right, Patton. Other foods can be enjoyable.”

Virgil and Patton exchange a glance as Roman reenters the room. “Y’know, me and Pat are busy most of the week too, but Roman has pretty light courses – you two should go get dinner some time.”

“Oh! Why yes, Virge, that does sound lovely!” Roman hands her the cold caffeine and she smiles in thanks. Their hands touch slightly, and Roman rushes back to the other chair to try hiding the way his face darkens.

“Mm, very well. Getting food is an acceptable activity to lose time on, considering I would need to eat either way.”

“And I will be paying, of course!” Roman touches his chest as it puffs out proudly.

“Roman, I make my own money, I assure you I can-“

“Ugh, just let me do something nice for you!” he says, a bit too aggressively. Paton giggles at him and hides their face against Virgil. “You deserve someone to treat you, Logan.”

Logan sighs, not fully grasping the reason he wants to, but supposing that it won’t hurt. “Alright, Roman, if you insist. We can alternate who pays.”

Roman’s mouth shuts, and he tries not to look annoyed at Logan’s refusal to be spoiled. Patton and Virgil certainly never complain, considering his incredibly large allowance from his parents. Even with all the clothing he buys, it would still be difficult to spend $7,000 monthly without friends to support. He chooses to gripe in silence though, as Virgil turns on Doctor Who and the title theme sounds its sci-fi score through the room. Roman glances over at Logan again, pleased to see a relaxed grin on her lips as she drinks coffee.

They all relax through the first four episodes of the season, Logan occasionally asking for clarification on the emotional themes and Patton in return requesting clarification on the scientific themes. Roman makes occasional compliments to certain shot framing and lighting choices, and Virgil remains mostly silent.

After the end of the fourth episode, Virgil yawns exaggeratedly. “Well, L, I think me and Patton are going to head to bed, but since you don’t work until like 2 tomorrow, you and Roman should stay up and keep watching. If needed you can stay over, too, you know the couches rock.”

Logan smirks slightly. “Yes, the couches are quite comfortable. Very well, you two. Rest well, remember to brush your teeth.”

“If the couches are so nice, perhaps we should slide over onto that one now that they’ve cleared off!” Roman declares as the couple disappears down the hall to the bedrooms. Logan hums in agreement and they both move over. Their coffees are gone, and Roman finds himself with nothing to fidget with. He ends up picking at the leg of his pants and tapping his foot, barely able to pay attention to the show. How could he when she’s right there, breathing and shifting so close to him? He tries sneaking his hand closer to her own, trying to build tension. She doesn’t seem to notice, focused on the show.

Roman takes a breath, and fully slides his hand over to rest on top of hers. She immediately begins to pull it away, turning to glance at him. “Do you need something, Roman?”

“U-uh- Nothing, no! Your… hands… just look soft?”

She pauses, tilting her head at him. “Soft?”

Roman is screaming curses at himself in his head, but he tries to smile casually through it. “Y-yes! They look,” he picks one up gently, lightly running his gloved fingers over the back of her hand, “really smooth, and your fingers are very long and thin… They are quite dainty.”

“Um. Thank you, Roman.” Logan seems taken aback; her face confused. “Why do you bring it up?”

Roman meets her eyes, her light blue ones clear enough to hold his reflection, and a small sigh leaves him. “I don’t know. All of you has always looked quite soft to me. Truthfully… I think about it probably a bit too often.” He smiles bashfully, glancing down away from her eyes. “I think about you a bit too often.”

Logan tries to piece together what he’s talking about in her mind. Thinks about her? Her being soft? It’s not tracking with her – Roman thinking of her often doesn’t seem like a characteristic she would expect. “What do you mean by that, Roman?”

“I- I mean,” Roman glances up to her face again, something passionate and soft filling his features. “What I mean is that- is that I like you, Logan.”

“I like you too, Roman, you’re an excellent friend.”

“No! No, as- as more than that. I like you in ways beyond friendship.”

Logan blinks rapidly, mouth falling open slightly. “Oh- Goodness, Roman- I’m sorry, I- I don’t- I’m not exactly interested in romance. With anyone, not just you in particular.”

“Ah. Oh.” Roman chews at his lip awkwardly. Of course she wouldn’t be. It makes sense given how romantically illiterate she is. “I mean… we don’t necessarily have to be romantic?” he proposes.

“What do you mean?”

Roman licks his lips, sighing, trying to put his words in order. “What I mean is, while I do like you as more than a friend, that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to be romantic partners!”

“How so?”

“Well- There are other types of attraction! Like how I’m mostly homoromantic, but sexually I don’t have much preference at all!”

“So… you are implying we would only be sexual?”

“Er, well no! Not necessarily. Oh, goshdarnit, words can be hard. There’s more than just romance and sex too! Like, even though you are feminine in your gender and not my typical type, aesthetically I find you incredibly beautiful! And- and I picture you erotically or sensually quite often as well.”

It’s Logan’s turn to go pink, glancing away to process her thoughts. Before Roman mentioned experiencing these feelings, she hadn’t thought to consider him in that way at all. But she quickly glances him over again, his dark skin with light markings glowing in the television lights and his perfect, slightly long hair. His golden jewelry and greenish eyes, filled with hope and warmth as he looks at her. Perhaps she gets what he means by aesthetic beauty.

Logan breathes in slowly, and fully meets his gaze once again. “Well, Roman- I suppose- I mean, I understand your thoughts. You are also a very attractive person.” Doctor Who is nothing but background noise now, their gazes locked solely on each other. Roman is clinging to every word she speaks, holding her hand in his own trembling ones. “If it would make you happy, I would… be willing to attempt non-romantic partnership. I need to do further research on this whole subject of attraction, I think. There seems to be more to it than I realized.” Logan touches her chin. “What do you call a partnership like this? I don’t know, ‘non-romantic partner’ seems a mouth full.”

Roman tries to tamper down the joy for a moment to properly explain the topic to her - it’s rare he’s the one to teach Logan something. “Well, in queer spaces most of the time they call it a ‘queerplatonic’ or ‘queererotic’ relationship.”

“That is also a mouthful.”

“Hence why they shorten it! ‘QPR’, ‘QPP’- er, as in ‘queerplatonic partnership’.”

Logan hums, seeming to rotate the words over in her mind. “Very well. I suppose, then, that you are my queerplatonic partner.”

Roman grins at her widely, his slightly crooked teeth shining in the low light. She smiles back, a bit shocked with herself. Roman squeezes her hand, and chuckles. “Er, for boundary reasons- Am I allowed to kiss you?”

Logan can’t help a single sharp syllable of an embarrassed laugh slipping out of her, her face blushing deeper. “Sure, Roman, if it’s quick. I’m not very big on physical affection most times.”

Roman nods, and plants a quick respectful kiss on her cheek, giggling at himself. “This is so stupid- I’m being so awkward, I’m sorry!”

“It’s quite alright, I also feel awkward.”

“I can tell, nerd, your face is so bright it’s shining.”

Logan looks away, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “You don���t look much better, frankly.”

They meet eyes again, exchanging tiny smiles. “I suppose those dinner plans are a definite now, hm?”

“I suppose they are.”

“Want to finish watching this stupid nerd show?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can I cuddle you during it?”

“Of course you can.”         

Roman and Logan lay against each other, their bodies warm with embarrassment. Logan lets herself get so wrapped up that she does end up having to stay the night for time’s sake, and Roman leaves her to rest on the sofa for the night with one more quick, flushed kiss. Logan curls into the throw blanket and lets a geeky smile fully fill her face in the cover of darkness. She doesn’t know how she got here, with a careless, dramatic theatre major of all things. Logically they’ll be incompatible, right? She doesn’t know.

What Logan does know is that Roman’s confession felt right, in some way – like it was meant to happen. And the brief kisses certainly didn’t feel bad either. She falls asleep warmly, with no idea what the future might hold for the first time in years.            

#logince #dukeceit #sanders sides #college au #sanders sides au #tss au #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #my writing #sanders sides fanfic #tss fanfic

[rose-coloured-prince]

Roman had been staring out the window watch the trees blur by and listening to the railcar move along the tracks. Logan was next to him, reading something on his tablet to pass the time.

They were going to visit some friends downtown and Roman was very excited although the feeling was subdued right now as they waited to reach their destination.

He leans his head against Logan's shoulder and in turn Logan's hand comes up to rest on Roman's back. Roman sighs at the comforting feeling it brings. Logan snorts quietly at something in his text and Roman, who had been looking up at him, smiles. How adorable. He turns his head and kisses his shoulder.

Logan looks over at Roman both with curiosity and fondness. Something like understanding spills into Logan's eyes and he leans his head down and rests it against Roman's and continues his reading. Perfect. They'll reach their destination soon so Roman just listens to the railcar move along the tracks and feels Logan's warmth at his side to pass the time.

-

Romantic or QueerPlatonic Logince - Train

Prompt - "Shoulder Kisses"

#sanders sides #logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #erriwrites #drabbles

[pllandcompany]

I Choose You

Summary: Hospital AU! A look into how Roman and Logan’s relationship developed.

Pairings: Pre-romantic into Romantic Logince, background QPP Moxiety

Warnings: discussion of medical procedures, blood mention, violence/shooting mention, mention of drug use/addiction, anxiety, crying, a (and one almost) kiss

Tagged:  @shxtxpp @apologieslogan  @crofters-jam @asylia5911 @ab-artist @band-be-boss-blog @unbefuckinglieveable@flyingfreeyt @thecatchat @thefallendog @backatthebein @insufferablegayastronaut

Notes: Guess who’s back at it again after months of writer’s block?? I’ve wanted to write this story for a while. It does reference a few other fics I’ve written in this AU so here, here, and here are the links for those stories if you want more context as the events of this story are not in order of how they happened based on the established timeline. Also, heads up that I’ve only linked the first part of Out Loud (last link) and Don’t You Remember (second link) but If you want full details (or if you just love my writing so much, insert eye roll here), go to my masterlist and read all of the parts. Still, it should be fairly clear even without reading the previous stories. Okay! Enough talking! Enjoy!

Why wasn’t he awake?

That deadly, nerve-wracking, gut-twisting question had been bouncing around Dr. Roman Courtland’s mind for five days now. The deadline of the withdrawal of care date loomed over his head like a terrorizing and expansive storm ready to break open at any moment. Fourteen days was just simply not enough time. Did the man have no hope?

Note to self: Remind Logan to change that stupidly short time period when he wakes up.

In all actuality, Logan being in a coma was not the expected outcome. It was a nearly perfect surgery. The bleeding was minimal and deftly controlled by his swift hand when it occurred. There was no sign of post-operative stroke or brain death. He should be awake. Yet there Logan lay as still and pale as driven snow, the steady beep of the machines being the only sign of life in the room. It shouldn’t be the case, but it was and Roman was damned determined to find out why. This wasn’t just any patient. No, this was a colleague and a gifted one at that; Logan was quite possibly the most brilliant cardio-thoracic surgeons this hospital had ever seen. Not only was this a professional point of pride, Logan was also the man who saved his brother’s life while simultaneously putting up with his relentless torment the entire time Remy was hospitalized. Roman knew he had been unfair to the surgeon, cruel even and he has certainly spent an exorbitant amount of energy trying to make up for that fact since, including personally taking on his case when Logan turned up with a brain tumor. Shortly before his diagnosis, the two finally found themselves on better terms and Roman was…looking forward to getting to know the doctor more, figure out what truly makes him tick. Now he was potentially the surgeon responsible for destroying that precious of a mind, for squandering the opportunity to…learn more about Logan? Roman refused to accept that reality. Logan Taylor was going to wake up if he had any say in it. He had to; Roman wasn’t ready to lose him-

“Roman? What are you still doing here?”

Patton. Damn it. “Looking over Logan’s post-op scans.” Roman felt the deep sigh more than he heard it.

“For the hundredth time, I bet. Roman, take a break, please. You have to step away at least for a moment. Have you even eaten anything?”

“Have I figured this out yet? Then the answer is no and I’m not leaving until that changes.” A small pang of guilt tightened Roman’s chest briefly. Yelling at Patton was like kicking a puppy, a completely undeserved action. As usual, Patton didn’t even seem fazed which only served to make the neurosurgeon feel worse. Instead, he simply sat across from the distraught doctor, empathy shining in his eyes.

“Roman, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“Then what the hell else am I supposed to do?!” Roman flailed his arms in sheer frustration, the force of action flinging the scans everywhere. He roughly ran a shaky hand through his hair and breathed deeply, trying to control himself while Patton quietly picked up the discarded films.

“I wish I could tell you what to do, Roman. I don’t know how to fix Logan. But I do know you’re not going to find the answer like this. Please take a break. Get some sleep. Come at this again in the morning.”

Roman buried his head into his hands. “What if something happens when I walk away? What if he gets worse and I’m not here to stop it? What if I can’t figure this out and I…and we lose him?” Patton gently took Roman’s hands out of his hair and smoothed the wavy locks down, a solemn yet knowing smile playing on his lips.

“I know you’re scared. I am too. But we don’t get to know what’s going to happen sometimes. All we can do is our best. Which you can’t do if you’re exhausted. So, come with me. We’re going to have dinner and then you’re going to an on-call room to lie down. You don’t have to sleep. You can ramble all the medicine at me that you want, every detail. Maybe then we can come up with something together. How does that sound?” Roman nodded silently, allowing Patton to lead him out of his office.

An hour and a sandwich later, Roman was out like a light and Patton was quietly sneaking out of the on-call room.

Mission successful.

****

“Good morning, nerd!”

God, Roman was insufferable. Logan let out a soul-exiting sigh. “Dr. Courtland, must you insist on calling me that?”

“Oh, don’t get your briefs in a twist, Dr. Taylor; you know I tease only out of love.” Logan hoped the tenseness in his shoulders wasn’t noticeable.

There he was using that word around him again.

“You cannot possibly love me. We’ve only known each other a few months. Besides, I seem to recall you having a certain disdain for me when I first arrived here. It would be impossible for that to have resolved itself in totality so soon.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roman stop and turn back to him. Suddenly, Logan was grateful they were the only two in the lounge.

“Logan…you still think so ill of me?” The cardiologist barely held back the gasp that bubbled in his throat at the hurt look on the neurosurgeon’s face.

“No…not of you?”

“Then of yourself?” Roman sat next to Logan, setting his thigh ablaze when they brushed against each other. Logan hesitated for a moment as his mind struggled to find the best way to answer.

“That’s not it either. I simply meant that we are very different people with not much in common. I’m not certain as to how we will coalesce outside of being coworkers.” If we will.

“Well, that isn’t always a negative thing. I like that we’re different. Means there’s much we can learn from each other.”

“Of course. Our specialties differ greatly; there’s bound to be new information learned between us.” Roman chuckled warmly. 

“While I find your habit of taking things literally quite refreshing, in this case it led you astray. You’re so much more than the job, Lo. You are strong and wise, brilliant and beautifully complicated in ways I’d like to know more about. If you’d let me that is.” The neurosurgeon’s face held so much hope, it metaphorically made Logan’s heart just…stop. How ironic that he, the cardio-thoracic surgeon would be the one to need pulmonary resuscitation from just one look from the towheaded neurosurgeon. ​ It just wasn’t reasonable how one person could be so disarming, so confounding, so attractive…

Logan had to get out of there.

“Ah! Yes, well, then I concede to your point, Dr. Courtland. Fare-farewell.” The older doctor jumped up like a jack in the box and practically sprinted out of the room, the edge of his white coat narrowly missing Roman’s face. 

It didn’t bother him too much once he realized that Logan hadn’t said no.

****

“Okay, Logan. Let’s try this again. Pick up the pencil and write your name.” Logan stared at the yellow No. 2 as if it would jump up and slap him at any moment. “Can we go back to the ball?”

Roman almost chuckled. “You’ve already done that portion. Your grip strength is greatly improved. Now we need to build your prehensile strength back. Go ahead, pick up the pencil. Just try.”

After a few tense moments, Logan finally held the writing instrument. His heart pounded with anticipation as he gingerly placed the tip to the paper in front of him. He pressed down ever so slightly and began to write his name.

He didn’t make it through the ‘g’ before the force of his tremor snapped the graphite.

In a fit of pure rage, Logan swiftly grabbed the pencil in his left hand and threw it across the room. It sailed past Roman’s ear so close he felt the wind move his hair. Before he could react, Logan was standing and tossing his chair across the room. A loud clattering sound stunned Roman into stock still reticence, not daring to test the cardiologist in this state.

“Damn it! Damn it all to hell!”

“Logan, just try to stay calm- “

“No, you said this would work! Yet it’s been a month and I still can’t use my hand! An entire month and I still can’t operate because you make promises you can’t keep!” Silence. “I’m sorry. That was…an unbecoming display.” He moved to restore the room to its original order but Roman intercepted him. He placed two warm hands on Logan’s shoulders, drawing a gasp from the sudden contact.

“You don’t have to apologize, Logan. I understand. I’m surprised you’ve held it together this long.”

Logan refused to make eye contact with Roman. “I still should not have behaved in that manner. Especially after everything you’ve done for me, I shouldn’t be lashing out at you, I am alive because of you, I should just be grateful for that- “

“Dr. Taylor, will you please look at me?” When Logan didn’t move, Roman took his hand under the surgeon’s chin and gently lifted his head. His heart nearly broke at the shattered look on Logan’s face. “See? I’m not mad. What you’re feeling is normal because what you’re going through is hard. It’s okay to get frustrated.” Roman pushed back a lock of the cardiologist’s dark hair and Logan’s eyes closed, leaning into the touch. His head dropped alarmingly close to Roman’s forehead and the neurosurgeon shifted to hold his face with both hands. Logan’s lips parted and his gaze suddenly changed to something…insistent, almost desperate. The question he was asking was obvious and oh, how Roman wanted to acquiesce. Maybe he could, maybe it would be okay…no, it wouldn’t be right; Logan was his very vulnerable patient right now and his coworker. Complicated wouldn’t even begin to describe the nature of their involvement. Roman took a step back and cleared his throat, turning to grab the chair and returned it to the table.

“Look, your hand works. You just have to remind your brilliant brain that it does. And it takes time to build new neural pathways so…try again. Write your name, as much as you can.” Logan swallowed tensely, seating himself once again in the chair. He closed his eyes in a silent prayer, willing the pressure in his chest to release. He looked when he felt velvet skin against the back of his hand: Roman was holding it. Smiling gently at the supportive touch, he picked up the second pencil Roman had conjured from his white coat.

This time, he made it through the ‘g.’

****

“Tell me a secret.”

“…what?”

“We’re getting to know each other. Setting aside our differences, becoming…friends. Friends tell each other things so…tell me a secret.”

“We are sitting on a bench on our lunch break in the middle of our workday. What about this setting makes you suddenly want to have an intimate conversation?”

“Deflecting…”

“Oh, for heavens’ sake, fine!”

“…Paging Dr. Taylor? Are you actually going to say something?”

“I…I want children. Or at least a child. I want to be a father.”

“Well, that’s a mighty forward proposition.”

“Dr. Courtland…”

“Oh, hush now, you know I’m kidding! But why is that such a secret?”

“Because no one expects it of me. People see me as cold and emotionless; no one would think me fit to be a father, much less have a desire to raise children. I’m not like Patton; I don’t seem like ‘the type,’ if you will.”

“I don’t agree with that at all. I think you’d make an excellent father. You’re very practical and you’re extremely dedicated to your patients. There’s no way that wouldn’t translate over into being a parent.”

“Oh…well, uh, thank you. I, uh, believe it is your turn.”

“…I have a twin.”

“In addition to your four other brothers?”

“No, he’s one of the five of us. His name is…was Remus.”

“Was?”

“Truth be told, I don’t know if I should be saying is or was about him. I don’t even know if he’s alive or not.”

“Roman…”

“He was a surgeon in the military. Reconstructive surgery was technically his specialty but over there he functioned mostly as a trauma surgeon. He loved it; he was never phased by gruesome injuries or the horrors of combat. He just did his job saving as many lives as he could so they could go on to keep ours back home safe. One day, their compound was raided and…he was never heard from again. A lot of soldiers died that day but…they never found his body.”

“Oh, Roman…you have my deepest condolences. The amount of grief you’ve had to endure…it’s quite unfair.”

“Don’t worry, Specs. I’m all right. I know it may sound…completely ridiculous but he could still be alive. It’s one of the few things I still hope for…that one day I’ll see my brother again.”

“I understand even more why you’re so protective of the brothers you have here now.”

“Congratulations, Doctor. You just figured out why we tell each other secrets.”

****

The first thing Roman felt when he woke up was pain. Pain in his chest, pain in his throat, God, it felt like he was choking on something-

“Roman? Roman, calm down, don’t fight the intubation, okay? We’ll get it out, just hold on.” That sounded like Virgil, why was Virgil taking him off a vent?

Oh. Right. He got shot.

He got shot and almost died.

He got shot and needed surgery. He had just had surgery to take a bullet out of his chest. Chest…cardiovascular…where was Logan?

Roman knew he wouldn’t be able to get much out at first, but he had to try. He took a breath that rattled in his throat and attempted to speak. “Lo…Lo-”

“Shh, shh, don’t try to talk, Ro. I know who you want; I’ll go get him.” Virgil turned to leave, not even making it one step before he was stopped short by a vice-like grip on his wrist. He turned back to see Roman staring at him with wide eyes, almost pleading with him to understand. Virgil nodded; the message clearly received.

“I know you’re grateful. I’m not hurt. I’m just…really glad to see you make it, man.” Virgil left before anyone could acknowledge the tears threatening to stain his face and Roman found that being alone was scarier than it should be. After all, he had no idea where the shooter was; Logan could have hidden him away to fix him, he could still be here somewhere, lurking, waiting to take another shot that would surely end his life this time-

“Roman? Calm down, your heart rate is way too high. Just breathe, you’re safe.” The neurosurgeon’s eyes met with two dark pools of worry and he locked onto them, Logan urging him to match his breathing. “That’s right; breathe with me. You’re safe. We’re safe right now.” Once Roman’s chest evened out, Logan reached over and grabbed a paper cup full of lukewarm water and handed it to the eager patient.

“Don’t drink too fast, Roman. Slow sips. There you go.” A moment of silence passed. “I’m sorry it’s not cold, I couldn’t seem to locate any ice.”

“The…the shooter-”

“Dead.” Logan’s tone was abrupt and cold. “The shooter is dead; you don’t have to worry about him any longer.”

Roman nodded slowly to not aggravate his already sore body any further. “You saved me.”

Logan nodded absently, staring a hole into the linoleum floor. “I know.”

“Then you know…you know I cannot thank you enough- “

“How dare you?” Logan whispered softly.

“Wh- what?”

“How dare you! How dare you just…waltz into my life and torture me and make me hate you then apologize and befriend me and make me respect you?”

Roman’s eyes widened in shock. “I-I’m sorry- “

“No! No, you do not get to apologize because…because you don’t even leave it there; I can’t just respect you, you then start to make me like you and want you around and want to be near you and then, oh God, you even go as far as to make me fall for you! And just when I figure that out, just when I’m finally able to admit the depth of my feelings for you to myself, just when I finally muster up the courage to even consider telling you about how I…feel, then you decide to go and almost die on me?! And on top of it, you make me be the one to have to save you! How DARE YOU?!”

The entire room stuttered to a halt, save for Logan’s ragged breathing. He was outright crying at this point and quite honestly, Roman wasn’t far behind him. “Logan…I’m so sorry- “

“Shut up! Just shut up! Please just…just tell me you want me too. Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me that I don’t ever have to live without you because today I learned that losing you feels far too similarly to dying myself so if that is not the case…tell me now so I can figure out how to survive.” A long, tense, quiet moment passed before either of them spoke again.

“Logan,” Roman coughed abruptly, wincing as the motion sent shockwaves of pain through his ribs. He cleared his abused throat and tried again. “Logan, look at me.” The dark-haired surgeon looked up into the soulful eyes of the injured man laying in the hospital bed below him.

“Roman, please,” he pleaded, his voice impossibly soft.

“You can survive without me…but I promise you, as long as I am alive, you will not ever have to.” Logan’s head shot up and before he could control himself, he launched into the bed with Roman, just barely remembering to avoid his ribs and all the wires attached to him. He mumbled a hushed prayer of thank you, thank you, thank you as he curled himself into the space between Roman’s body and the railing of the bed. Roman took a moment to settle before he rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder, exhaustion beginning to blur out the edges of his vision. Logan kissed the crown of his head and wrapped his arms around his newfound love in the gentlest protective hold he could muster, allowing the neurosurgeon to succumb to sleep.

“Rest, Roman. I have you. You are safe. You’re safe with me.”

****

Dr. Picani was a typically patient man but this? This argument he was deeply tired of.

“What I fail to understand is how I continually prove myself to be trustworthy over and over again and you continually shut me out!”

“It is not about you, Roman.”

“Then what is it about? Why wouldn’t you tell me about something like this?”

“I’m telling you now!”

“Yeah, two weeks after the fact and I technically had to hear about it from Virgil!”

“Have you considered that. just maybe, I felt some shame? I had achieved six months of solid sobriety and I nearly threw all of that away in mere minutes!”

“You were obviously triggered by something.”

“I was weak! I failed to keep myself together yet again! And if it weren’t for Virgil dragging me to a meeting and convincing me to tell you, I’d probably still be failing.” Struggling doesn’t make you weak, Logan. The therapist scribbled the thought in his notebook, making a reminder to bring that point up later. He was about to interject when he realized that for the first time in a few minutes, there was silence. Dr. Picani’s head snapped up at the sudden quiet to see Roman’s eyes rapidly filling with tears. Well, this is unexpected.

“Roman? What’s wrong? Say what you’re thinking.”

“I…am I the trigger? Have I pushed you too far?” Good job, Roman, the therapist praised silently, way to take ownership!

Logan’s stomach churned guiltily at the tentative question. “No. You have gotten so much better about that. You did nothing wrong, you are perfect, it’s me, I am…broken.” Logan cursed himself internally for how his voice cracked at the end of his sentence, but he had to keep going. “I want to be good enough for you, but I constantly fail you and I don’t want you to see it. But I fear that one day you will and the fact that I love you won’t be enough to make you stay.” And good job being honest about your fears, Logan. These two have come so far.

While Roman knew just how necessary it was for Logan to admit how he felt, God, how it broke Roman’s heart. He reached out slowly and touched Logan’s hand, chest tightening even more when he felt the muscles jump under his palm. He breathed a sigh of relief when the brunette managed to make eye contact with him, the shared gaze giving him the courage to continue.

“Logan, you’re forgetting one very important thing. I love you too. I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be you. Yes, you are strong and brilliant, and I love when you are confident and at your best. But I don’t just love you then. I also love you when you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re less than perfect. Lord knows that I am all those things and you don’t shy away from any of that with me. We’re all a little bit broken but we need each other to keep ourselves together. So, yes, I want you to be strong and healthy but if you can’t be? If it gets hard for you to be that? I still want you.”

“All of me?” Logan whispered.

“The whole damn thing.” Roman paused suddenly, a moment of deliberation passing through his eyes. Logan watched as he seemed to come to some sort of internal decision. He felt the grip on his hand tighten into a gentle squeeze…and then gasped as he watched Roman slide off the couch they shared and drop to one knee.

“Oh my God,” Logan choked out. A loud clatter sounded in front of them as Emile dropped his notebook, both hands flying up to either side of his face,

“Oh my God!” Roman chuckled damply at the poorly contained squeal.

“Save it for the end, Picani.” He pulled out a small black box from his pocket, relishing in the way Logan’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. “I’ve been carrying around this thing for weeks wondering when the right time to ask you was, but truth be told, I could have done it anytime. I didn’t have to wait for some perfect moment because every moment is perfect with you. An appropriate time period in our relationship didn’t need to pass because every minute that goes by is another minute that I am undoubtedly grateful to have spent with you. I didn’t need a counselor to tell me if I’m making the right decision. I just need to look at you and see that all my futures, all my forevers and tomorrows live in your eyes. You are the answer to every question I’ve ever had, even the ones I didn’t know I was asking. So today, I am not proposing marriage. I am affirming my sure commitment to you for the rest of my life. The ring is yours today, tomorrow, and for years to come. There’s no time limit, no expiration date. All you have to do is take it when you’re ready.”

Logan sat in stunned silence as his mind turned over every word of Roman’s confession. Slowly taking the sapphire studded ring from the now open box, he turned it over in his fingers and watched as the light danced with the gems, searching the depths of his heart for any hesitation. He handed the ring back to Roman and slowly turned his hand over, palm facing down.

“Put it on me. I’m ready.”

The squeal that Dr. Picani let out threatened to break glass.

****

“Patton, I must insist that you let go of me before you completely cut off my oxygen supply!"

Patton somehow managed to squeeze Logan even tighter for the briefest of seconds before releasing him.

“Sorry, Doc, I’m just so darned excited for you both! Virgil, isn’t it just amazing? They’re getting married!” Virgil chuckled at the giddy look on Patton’s face.

“I swear, you are a living heart eyes emoji. And yeah, it’s pretty damn cool considering you guys hated each other when you met.”

“My God, you would bring that up,” Roman rolled his eyes as Logan and Patton collectively groaned. Patton delivered a playful smack to Virgil’s arm.

“Virgil! Leave them alone, they’re in love now.” Virgil raised an eyebrow down at his partner’s glossy eyes, almost feverish with excitement and something close to…envy? He elected not to comment as turned to embrace the newly engaged pair one more time.

“Whatever, I know the truth. But seriously, congratulations. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run, I’m assisting on a general surgery case and I’ve gotta change out of chief attire. I’ll see you both later this week, celebratory sushi? Friday night?”

“You bet, Tickle-Me-Emo!” Virgil glared at the nickname as he disappeared into the bathroom of the attendings’ lounge. Patton went in for the hundredth hug and jumped as his pager suddenly went off.

“Uh oh, gotta run, looks like a crash C-section. Congrats to you both again! Bye!” he shouted boisterously as he ran down the hallway.

“I’m afraid I must depart as well, my love. It does not inspire respect in my residents if I’m late for rounds.” Roman beamed at the cardiac surgeon, seemingly unaware of anything he just said. “What?” Logan asked hotly.

“You called me your love. You claimed me.” Embarrassment curled up Logan’s neck as he shook his head fondly and leaned in to kiss his now fiancée.

“You are so endearingly sentimental. I will see you at home, my love.” He smirked as he walked out of the door at the way Roman’s knees seemed to buckle just the smallest amount. The neurosurgeon stood in the middle of the room chuckling to himself when he heard a low, smooth voice speak up behind him.

“You’re engaged?” Roman turned around, his face falling in sympathy at the person behind him.

“Oh, Declan…yes. Yes, I am.” The fellow surgeon turned his face to the side to hide his tears, displaying the long scar that ran down the left side of his face. Without warning, he was suddenly being embraced by Roman who seemed to be unable to stop his own tears as they soaked the corner of his scrubs.

“You know, if Remus were here and we weren’t already married by now, we could have planned a double wedding,” Declan murmured.

“He would have loved that. He loved you so much.” Declan pulled away, his glance suddenly dropping to the floor.

“I wish I could tell you what happened to him.” Roman placed a hand on the orthopedic surgeon’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t there. You couldn’t have done anything to change it.” Declan smiled weakly, nodding a silent goodbye before leaving the room. He paused at the doorway facing the empty hallway.

“Congratulations. Really, you deserve to be happy.” Roman let out a small sob as Declan left, swiftly brushing the tears away before heading to his own rounds.

Neither of them remembered that Virgil was in the bathroom, listening to their entire conversation…and absolutely seething with fury.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides au #tw:/anxiety #tw:/violence #logince #romantic logince #moxiety #queerplatonic moxiety #deceit sanders #sanders sides surgeon au #my writing #pllandco

[siren1song]

Crush Part 4!!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

HERE WE GO AGAIN

I haven’t worked on this in actual months but I fell in love with customer service virgil and remembered this au existed dklfgshd.

Okay so Patton and Virgil start texting like literally every day. Patton’s not quite on “send memes at three in the morning” level yet, but he has breached “i heard a bad joke and now you have to suffer with me” level and Patton is kind of living for all of the awful jokes Virgil sends him.

His favorite is probably any animal pun. Patton tells Virgil this, and Virgil is suddenly really glad he started looking up dumb puns when he was having a bad day and wanted to send Patton into a pun spiral.

Once Patton started sending Virgil memes he found online pertaining to Virgil’s interests, and puns based on the bands Virgil was really into, Virgil decided Patton was officially a friend because it’s so rare for him to find someone who actually tries to pertain to his interests that’s outside of his niche circle online.

Of course, when this happens Virgil looks at Logan (who was staying the night and getting ready for bed because Virgil was having one of his bad days and was in desperate need of his partner laying on top of him so he could breathe) and grimaces at him until Logan sighs.

“Yes, Virgil?”

“I want Patton to be my friend. Can I call him a friend at this point?”

Logan paused, tilting his head in consideration.

“Hmm. I think so? It’s been how long since the two of you started talking like normal people?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes in thought, pursing his lips as he looked down at his phone.

“A month, I think.”

“Then yes, I believe that’s a respectable amount of time to consider him to be a friend.”

God help these two and their lack of understanding on how friendships work.

So Virgil decides to send the Friendship Text, the one he sends people when he reaches the point of being comfortable enough to call them a friend.

now that we’re friends youve been indicted into the virgil army of which i am the leader and our purpose to spread the platonic affection agenda.

Patton screams, when he gets that text, which makes Roman fall off the bed in surprise because it’s ten thirty at night and he was working on falling asleep and a loud sudden scream is honestly enough to make anyone fall off of any surface they’re on.

“What? What happened, Patton? Patton are you okay?”

Patton doesn’t answer in favor of kicking his feet and flapping his hands and shaking his head all to try and get the immense feelings of happiness to calm down enough for him to have a functioning heart and also so he can respond to Virgil of course.

!!!!!! :D you called me a friend!!!!! i’m so happy!!!!!! it’s time for me to explode into glitter, streamers, and puppies!!!!!!!!

Virgil snorts at Patton’s excitement before saying good night and setting his phone aside so that Logan could properly lay on top of him and they could get some rest at a decent hour for once.

#crush series #crush part 4 #moxiety #logince #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #queerplatonic analogical #platonic royality #casper writes #oh wow look what i did #i havent worked on this in so long #but look at them being all cute #i wanted to focus on the development of their friendship #i might work on some logince development next but no promises #also pattons happy stimming is based off my own stimming #and im living for it #this seems short but ya know what i dont care!!!! #this is soft hours folks