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brandstifter-sys · 2 months

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Don't Drop Mr. Fuzzy

Word Count: 2405 (Ao3)

Characters: Virgil, Remus, Mr. Fuzzy

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, fear of abandonment, death mention, violence mention, s/h mention, post-break up reconciliation

After the gift exchange, Virgil couldn't stop thinking about Remus, about the slip in his bubbly facade. So naturally he went running to the Duke, and not a moment too soon. Remus needed some affection.

---

The gift exchange wasn't as much of a disaster as he thought. Sure he had a hiccup with his giftee doubting him, but Roman bitch slapped Janus. Patton was thrilled with his gift, but then there was his own present.

Virgil sat on his bed and stared at Mr. Fuzzy. He could admit it was cute, for something Remus made, and if he had no idea what it was made of he could be grateful for it. In private. Who really kept gifts from their ex?

“Maybe if I sanitize you, you won't be as gross,” Virgil said and turned it in his covered hands. He had yet to set it down, partly because he didn't want to contaminate his room, and partly because he felt guilty for dropping it after Remus' little outburst.

“Mr. Fuzzy doesn't like being dropped!”

The way Remus said that punched him in the amygdala. The layered voice, that rigid posture, those wide eyes—to an outsider it was uncanny, unsettling, but not to those who knew him. Virgil knew him all too well.

“Alright,” Virgil sighed and got up, headed for his desk. He conjured a small tub of warm water and that blue barber shop comb cleaner and set Mr. Fuzzy inside.

“I'll be back in ten, so just chill,” he said and stepped into the closet. There was no way he was wearing a sweater for the rest of the night! Maybe he could just go shirtless and play video games until bedtime, it was less work. But he still had to handle Mr. Fuzzy and hide it in the back of the closet somewhere.

That idea made his stomach churn. He was so tired of hiding things just so they could come out in the open again. And Remus' words were echoing in his skull again.

Mr. Fuzzy didn't like being dropped. Abandoned. Neither did Remus. And Virgil absolutely dropped and abandoned him. Virgil abandoned him and yet he still made him a gift with his own hands, a cute little blob that really fit his aesthetic.

He couldn't ignore the dread filling him as he peeled off his sweater. Remus used that voice. It was the same as the one Virgil used when he was on the verge of a panic attack. It was a cry for help.

He knew Remus had his moments when his thoughts drove him crazy, when he legitimately feared that they would become reality. He knew how horrible the duke felt despite his smile and impishness.

Why didn't he recognize it at the gift exchange? Was it his own anxiety about being stuck with Janus and Remus? Was it Janus' obvious discomfort with the situation, the discomfort that led him to drinking all that wine? It should have hit him much sooner than it did.

And as he finished getting into his pajamas, Virgil realized that he couldn't just sit by. He still cared about Remus, more than he should.

He grabbed Mr. Fuzzy, willed it dry, and sank out.

---

Remus wandered down the hallway towards his bedroom. He didn't trust himself to sink out and appear in his own room, not when his mind was screaming at him. Now that Janus was in bed and cozy, and the party was over, he didn't have any distractions.

He just wanted to have fun in the chaos a drunk Janus brought to the “family gathering” and maybe give and get presents outside of the secret Santa. But all he got was a throw away, thoughtless gift (he loved it but it felt impersonal and did not help his thoughts) and a shock from his brother slapping his bestie. In hindsight it was exactly the kind of response to the building tension he enjoyed, but at that moment it was gnawing at his brain.

Janus dying from a snapped neck, leaving him.

Roman stabbing him through the gut, blood splattering up to his mustache.

Worst of all, Virgil hated the gift he made for him. Yes, he scoured his shower drain for it—it’s called recycling! But he made sure to clean the hair if only so the glue would stick! It was cute and creepy! Just like Virgil!

Virgil pushing him off a cliff into the void.

Silence. Darkness. Solitude. Only his thoughts telling him how he could die

Remus didn't realize he was digging his thumbnail into his fingers, going from pointer to pinky and back, until he reached his door. He could smell the blood on his hands. He was ready to scream and cry. Maybe he could cuddle with his favorite teddy and hide under the covers—

Suffocating. Blood vessels in his wide eyes breaking. His face turning red.

—curl up on top of the covers.

But his heart shattered when he opened the door. He couldn't even hold up his deranged smile. He had everything organized perfectly, clean, and nothing should have been out of place, but the unexpected hairball on his desk was staring at him. Mr. Fuzzy was back. Virgil didn't even want to keep it in his closet!

Tears welled in his eyes as he staggered towards the desk, not bothering to look at the rest of his room. Virgil actually hated him! He really was gone—

“Hey,” Virgil said softly. Remus whipped around and spotted his favorite edgelord perched on his bed. He was chewing his bottom lip and avoiding his eyes, but was he really there?

Remus timidly reached out and brushed Virgil’s arm with his bleeding fingers. He was not hallucinating.

“Can we talk?” Virgil asked and gently grabbed his hand. Remus nodded dumbly and sat down next to him.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Are you doing alright? You kinda slipped back there,” Virgil said and scooted closer. He conjured some bandages and tended to his wounds.

“No. I miss you. I put so much time and effort into your gift and you don't like it, you even dropped it!” Remus pouted. He didn't have to plaster a smile on his face or pretend he wasn't hurting now. He couldn't hide his fingers so why hide anything else?

“I hate you” Virgil glaring at him with so much disdain.

“I was startled when you said you got the supplies from JoAnn Fabrics,” Virgil admitted, “I was expecting a catch, you never make something simple. And I never know what you have in store. I thought it might bite.”

“But you still don't like it. You were so unimpressed and unhappy. You said it was going to the back of your closet never to be seen again,” Remus shuddered as Virgil let go of his bandaged hands.

Virgil shoving him in the back of his closet and forgetting him.

“I was in a really bad mood,” Virgil said and wrapped an arm around him, “You know how much I hate social situations like that, especially with Janus running his mouth. I'm not shoving Mr. Fuzzy in my closet. I like it. It's actually pretty cute.”

Remus leaned into him and closed his eyes, not trying to fight the tears. This was too much and not enough.

“Do you hate me now?” he finally asked and glanced at Virgil. He hated how sad those eyes were, how dark his eyeshadow was.

He hates you. He wants you to disappear

“No, I don't hate you,” Virgil said and pulled him closer, “I don't have a lot of patience, and I get angrier than I used to. But I don't hate you.”

He'll pretend you don't exist

You'll wither to a skeleton when Janus leaves like he did

Remus shivered and scooted onto his lap. He clung to Virgil’s shirt and sobbed. Why wouldn't his brain just stop? Virgil was telling the truth! Virgil went looking for him! Virgil was worried about him!

“It's okay, Remus, I got you,” Virgil said and hugged him, “Your bad thoughts aren't real.”

“I don't want to be abandoned!” Remus sobbed and buried his face in Virgil’s shoulder, “I don't need anyone to like me! I just don't want to be alone! That's all I can think about!”

“After all these images of pain have cut right through you, I will kiss every scar and weep, you are not alone,” Virgil muttered and gently rocked him.

Remus tightened his grip and shook as a new wave of sobs wracked him. Virgil couldn't even see the claw marks on his arms, old crescent shaped scars from moments like these.

He'll see them and run from a lost cause.

“Do you want me to stay overnight?” Virgil asked and kissed his head. Remus didn't answer him. He was too busy crying his heart out.

Virgil hated seeing him like this. He knew Remus absolutely sobbed just as hard when he ended their relationship years ago. He knew that Remus unintentionally hurt himself when he was distressed. He knew that the duke needed someone to tell him he would be okay.

“Can you stay tonight?” Remus muttered once he calmed down, “I can sleep on the floor, just as long as you're here.”

“I'll stay,” Virgil responded and stroked his hair. It was still as soft as ever, “And you don't have to sleep on the floor.”

“But I get clingy and I might do something that makes you mad,” Remus pouted, “It's bad enough I want you back. I don't want you to leave me as a friend too.”

“After all the hell I put you through,” Virgil sighed, “you shouldn't want me back. I don't deserve a second chance.”

“Do you want one anyway?” Remus sniffled and dried his eyes. Virgil hugged him tighter and sighed.

“Yeah. I want that.”

“Did you want to get a clean shirt?” Remus asked and stared at the mess he made. He usually didn't mind snot but it stayed out of his bed. His bedroom was clean to fight his intrusive thoughts, his workshop was a hot stinky mess where he could go wild. That was one boundary he refused to cross.

“I don't mind going shirtless, but yeah I'm not wearing this to sleep.”

“You'd go shirtless in bed with me?” Remus gawked.

“If it's cool with you, yeah,” Virgil shrugged and averted his eyes, “but if you aren't I can get a clean shirt. But I would have to leave for a couple minutes.”

“I have your old A Day to Remember shirt if you want to wear that,” Remus muttered and scooted away from him.

“You kept that?”

“Yeah. It smells like you and it's comfy.”

“Let's get you out of that sweater and in something more comfortable,” Virgil said and got up. He helped Remus to his feet and peeled that stupid Christmas sweater off.

Remus shuddered as his bare skin met the air. It was soothing, no longer having any fabric smothering him.

Virgil snickered and tossed the sweater in the hamper at the foot of the bed.

“You might want to rename—” he said Mr. Fuzzy's eldritch name, “—at least in English.”

“Why?” Remus pouted. He was startled when Virgil ran his hands over his chest. It was a gentle touch, with no hidden meaning.

“Pretty sure you're the real Mr. Fuzzy,” Virgil teased, “You're still as soft and fluffy as ever.”

“Your shirt is in the dresser in the second drawer, no cuddles until you're not a snot boy,” Remus grumbled and averted his gaze. He was feeling too many things at once and he did not need to add mushy to that list.

“Who's fault is that?” Virgil scoffed playfully and shed his hoodie. He didn't wait for Remus to respond before going to the dresser and grabbing his old shirt.

“Yours. You let me use you as a tissue,” Remus jeered without much enthusiasm and got out of his pants. At least he was throwing quips and stripping like he normally did.

“You got me there,” Virgil said and changed shirts. He tossed the snotty one in the hamper and crept up behind Remus. The duke wasn't entirely present.

Remus yelped as Virgil grabbed him from behind and dragged him onto the bed. He squirmed and tried to escape, but Virgil's hold was too strong.

“You're cute when you try to fight me,” Virgil chuckled softly and kissed his cheek.

Virgil letting go of him. Letting him fall—

Remus flipped over and clung to him.

“Stay,” he grumbled and squeezed Virgil as tightly as possible.

“I'm staying. I'll only leave to use the bathroom,” Virgil said softly and rubbed his back. Remus stayed quiet, shivering from the touch. So he was starved for affection and Janus could only provide so much.

“Did you like your present?” Virgil asked after a few moments.

“Daddy didn't know what to get me so he got me something from a top ten list. I'll love it more when my thoughts quiet down,” Remus grumbled, “I'm just happy he got me something and didn't forget about me!”

“It’s hard to forget about you,” Virgil said and kissed his hair, “You're too sweet.”

“You mean that?”

“Yeah. You made me a gift with your own hands, a unique little eldritch horror that's cool and cute. You went out of your way to make it.”

“It's cute and cuddly and it eats stuff from the shower drain. It keeps things clean!”

“It's alive?” Virgil asked, horrified.

“Yeah. I didn't think that would be a big deal,” Remus wilted.

“I stuck it in a tub of barbicide for ten minutes. Did I kill it?” Virgil panicked.

A shrill chirp pulled him from his spiraling. He glanced over Remus' shoulder and saw the little hairball on the bed.

“Mr. Fuzzy likes getting dangerous baths,” Remus giggled. Virgil immediately relaxed when he heard that beautiful sound.

“Can it join in the cuddle pile? It doesn't like Remus being sad,” Virgil asked. Remus snuggled closer and nodded. He needed all the affection he could get.

Almost immediately four long, hairy tentacles wrapped around Remus' torso. Virgil was surprised but not shocked. There was always a catch with Remus' creations.

“Mr. Fuzzy doesn't like being dropped and he doesn't like letting go,” Virgil mused as a fifth tentacle curled around his arm.

“How did you know that about it?” Remus grumbled.

“I didn't. I was talking about a different Mr. Fuzzy,” Virgil replied and kissed the top of his head, “And I'm not dropping you again.”

#dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #mr fuzzy #intrusive thouoghts tw #s/h mention tw #death mention tw #violence mention tw #sandyscribed

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arizona-tate · 4 months

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Nothing to See Here, Just Your Typical Office Romance

Rated: M WC: 1496 - AO3

Written for @tsspromptmonth's Rare Gifts event, Intrulogical Office AU. A little late but denial never hurt anyone. -

“It’s not like that, Jannie!”

Remus’ laughter rang out from his corner office, fast and tittering, pitched slightly higher than it’s usual timbre.

Concentration torn from the spreadsheet in front of him, Logan’s eyes followed the sound, tracing the pair of silhouettes moving on the other side of the frost glass wall.

“Really?” Janus’ voice, low and teasing, was just audible. “It certainly looks like that from here.”

Heavy wheels rolled over the floor and the rustle of silk on wool accompanied the now-taller silhouette. “How about from here?” Remus asked.

“Fine,” Janus said, sounding anything but. “I don’t need to know all the details of your love life.” Footsteps grew louder and Janus passed the threshold to Remus’ office before murmuring over his shoulder. “Besides, the position suits you.”

Logan didn’t lower his gaze as Janus sauntered down the corridor. “Lovely to see you, Logan,” he smirked, then continued down the hall to his own smaller office. He cast one more glance at him, eyes trailing down as Logan rose from his desk. “As always.”

After locking his screen Logan moved to Remus’ door, loosening the knot on his tie before clearing his throat. “Remus? Is now a good time?” He asked, voice low and even.

Already shaking his head before he even looked up, Remus’ ears flushed pink with he noticed the gap between Logan’s shirt and tie. He licked his lips and shook his head again.

Logan remained motionless, one foot in the office. His eyebrows raised expectantly.

He needed verbal consent.

“Yes, s–” Slurring his ‘s’, Remus saved himself from the slip and he nodded. “Please come in.”

Smiling now, Logan took his seat in the center of the plush velvet couch spanning the length of the far wall. He flicked his eyes to the door and Remus immediately obeyed, closing it with a quiet click.

“Lock it.”

Nodding again, Remus engaged the lock, then hovered his hand over the sound controls. “Would you like music, sir?”

“Yes, the Brahms.” Soft strings spilled from the hidden speakers and he looked pointedly at the fluffy rug at his feet. “Come here, pet.”

The thick fur softened both the impact and the sound as Remus dropped to his knees. “So good for me,” he murmured, cradling his jaw. “Following my instructions, anticipating my needs.” Cheeks flushed and lips parted, Remus’ pupils began to fill his emerald green eyes.

Remus melted in to the touch, rubbing his cheek against Logan’s palm until he stretched out his his fingers and cupped the side of the kneeling man’s face.

“Now, now, my sweet one,” Logan crooned, cradling his jaw. “Don’t drop just yet. We have something important to discuss.” He waited as Remus’ spine straightened, eyes refocused on his and he nodded. “Very, very good.”

Logan wordlessly stroked the edge of Remus’ hairline, long fingers dragging lightly through the fine curls.

Finally, Remus spoke, glancing at the door where Janus had stood only minutes ago before dropping his gaze to the floor. “I suppose you heard that.”

“Of course I did, pet.” Eyes trained on the floor, Remus only looked up when Logan applied a firm pressure, lifting his chin and revealing the thin strip of indigo leather strapped low on his neck. “I’m disappointed. You know my rules.” He slipped his hand lower, thumb tracing the curve of Remus’ throat until his fingers grazed warm leather. Two fingers tucked beneath, he tugged gently. “You may only wear this in the office if it stays out of sight of everyone else.”

Gasping at the sudden action, Remus’ eyes snapped shut and he whined. “But sir—”

“But nothing.” Logan’s voice was nearly a growl. “My rules are simple. You are mine. Only I may see you in this. What did I say last time?”

“No, please—” Remus’ words cut off when Logan tapped the lock, one eyebrow raised.

“No?”

“No, sir.”

Logan looked down. Remus’ voice had quivered, but his body was still, hands folded placidly in his lap. They locked eyes, heat and devotion and confidence behind Remus’ brilliant emerald gaze.

‘I like your possessive streak, Lo Lo,’ Remus had whispered to him early in their relationship. “I… enjoy it.” Honest to a fault, Remus had proven time and again just how much he enjoyed it when Logan tightened the metaphorical—and sometimes literal—rein.

“I wasn’t showing off, sir,” he continued. “Janus stood behind me and peeked down my shirt. It’s not easy to keep this from everyone. Especially from him.”

Logan sat back but didn’t drop his hand, and Remus followed his movement, leaning closer and brushing his cheek against Logan’s wrist. “That’s no excuse, pet. Perhaps this task is too difficult. If you wish to keep—”

Remus’ eyes popped and his hand shot up to grasp the well-worn leather as though Logan might rip it away from him. Logan’s smile softened and he released his grip on the collar to bring both hands to cradle either side of Remus’ face. “If you wish to keep wearing your collar in the office, ” he clarified and his husband relaxed into his touch. “You must demonstrate you will obey my rules.”

“I’m trying,” Remus pouted, that flash of fear spilling over into a taste of his long-tamed brattiness. “I bet you couldn’t do it,” he muttered, eyes down even as he backtalked.

“Really?”

Remus looked up at the hint of danger in his tone. Logan held his gaze before he slowly withdrew his hands and fully loosened his own tie. “I’ll take that bet.” Remus stared, mouth fallen open, as Logan removed his tie and unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt. It was only then that he retrieved the key hanging from a leather cord and half-hidden in his chest hair.

“I’m going to remove your collar now,” he said slowly and reached for the lock. Remus nodded and lifted his chin.

He shuddered as Logan opened the collar, hands coming up to trace along the now bare skin above his collarbone. “Feels…” He shuddered again. “Weird.”

Logan covered Remus' hand, his own long fingers circling the oddly bare skin around his husband's neck. Tight tendons melted under his hand and the worrying tremor in Remus' jaw eased. “Would you rather we didn’t try this, Meus?” he asked in a low whisper, breaking the scene.

"No, I wanna try it, Lo Lo," he whispered back, pulling away one of Logan's hands, kissed the soft skin of his inner wrist.

Remus' mustache tickled his wrist and he smiled. "Very good," he said, straightening his spine and picking up the collar. He held Remus' gaze as he fastened it and engaged the lock.

The collar hung heavy around Logan's neck, the leather still warm from Remus' skin, soft and flexible but with only a little yield. Logan swallowed the the muscles around his throat pressed agains the suede padding. His cheeks grew warm and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he asked softly, still kneeling.

"I…" Remus drove his cheek into Logan's palm, the cat-like gesture encouraging even as it reinforced his role in their play. Logan smiled and dragged his fingers through Remus' soft curls. "I had not anticipated finding the sensation… pleasurable. But you are correct. It is… Nearly distractingly so."

Remus' grin grew crooked and he wiggled closer. "It's even better when that's the only thing you're wearing."

The heat in Remus' eyes shifted Logan's control into gear and he chuckled, low in his chest. "That will have to wait, my pet. For now," he murmured, pulling back to button his shirt. "I have a bet to win."

"Hmph." Remus hung his head, full lips drawn down into an exaggerated pout. His eyes never left Logan's hands, though, and watched each movement.

"Don't wish to tell me what you want if you win this bet?" Logan asked, ignoring the fire racing through his own veins.

"I want…" Remus breathed, a flush crawling up from his chest all the way to his hairline as he watched Logan re-knot his tie. "I want you to break a rule."

"A rule?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Encouraged, he leaned forward and rested his cheek against Logan's thigh. He peered up through the tuft of curls that fell over his eyes. "If I win, I want you to take me here… in my office." Tie straightened, Logan let his hand settle in Remus' hair. "Tonight."

Logan barely hesitated. "Very well," he nodded, smile broadening at Remus' low laugh. "And if I win…" Logan curled over to whisper in his ear. "I'll take you here in your office."

Remus' breath stilled, listening, and Logan chuckled again. "With your morning coffee."

"With—" His voice broke, the heat of his flush bleeding through Logan's trousers. "When everyone's here?"

"We'll lock the door…" Logan promised, scritching the fine curls at the back of his neck and smiling at the way Remus gripped his calves. "If you're good."

Author note: If there's interest, I'll continue this little story. I'm fine with leaving what happens next as an exercise for the reader.

#intrulogical #Logan sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #office au #D/s dynamic #established D/s relationship

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