my side blog

‘Tell him I’m sorry.’

He shook his head lightly.

“Logan?” he called, hoping he could be heard through the door.

“Y-yeah?” Logan replied, fear and hesitation clear in his usually rather emotionless voice.

Janus felt a weird twinge in his chest and wondered briefly if sides could get Coronavirus. Chest pain was common in that, wasn’t it?

‘Tell him I’m sorry.’

Instead he said, “He’s awake.”

He heard Logan jump and take a step before stopping.

“I’ll be down in a second. Keep an eye on him,” he said and Janus couldn’t help the frown that came to his face.

‘Are you okay?’

“Okay,” he replied, giving the door one last semi-concerned look before he began walking back to the living room.

How was he supposed to tell Logan that Roman was sorry? Why did Roman ask him to do that?

Janus paused and looked back at Logan’s door.

He sighed and walked back quietly. Of course he knew why he asked him.

Leaning gently against the newly yellow door across from Logan’s room, he waited.

He could kill Roman again later for making him tell Logan. For now, he could play nice.

FIC TAGLIST:

@pleaseijustwantranch @i-need-somefucking-help @illogicalthinking @reesiereads @glitchybina @orchidstream @booklover223 @rachyyyyxxx

ALL WORKS TAGLIST:

@the17thmeatball

Logan pulled his hand back, feeling his blood drip down his arm.

He let out a shaky breath, dropping the blade and running his hand through his hair and he leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

His nerves were still high from the rush of adrenaline he got when he first pulled the blade across his skin. The image of his skin jumping apart from itself as blood began to pool out from underneath was thrilling.

So he kept going. Kept going until his heart was beating fast, not out of guilt and fear, but out of fascination and relief.

Logan took a deep breath in and let his hand fall from his head, opening his eyes and dully looking up to his ceiling.

Maybe he should’ve kept the stars up. Roman would’ve liked them.

He shook his head of the thought quickly, blaming his weakness and emotions for the stupid idea.

Not only was he done with that childish behavior, since it benefited no one and only put him in a light to be taken less seriously by the others, but also Roman.

Roman hated him enough to ‘kill’ himself. Logically, of course, Logan knew they couldn’t die. However, seeing Roman’s body in the living room… It chilled him to his bones.

Logan knew they couldn’t die because he himself had been killed before in Roman’s world.

It had been a complete accident, of course. Roman had convinced Logan to come in with him and they got a surprise attack from the Dragon Witch’s minions.

Yes, it was incredibly painful.

Logan ate out Roman for even creating the Dragon Witch afterwards, but Roman insisted that ‘every prince needs a villain.’

‘Yes, but you’re not the one who got killed,’ Logan had responded with.

Roman didn’t have an answer to that one.

Logan let out a sigh and looked away from the ceiling to his mess.

He really needed to clean this up before Roman woke up.

Standing up gingerly, he got to work.

First to go was the blood on the floor and the bloodied blade. A quick wave of his hand and it was all gone forever.

He could always get another blade. He didn’t want to waste too much time cleaning up, just in case he got caught.

Then he turned to his arm, sickly admiring his work one last time.

He inspected the first cut he had done, noting how shallow it was. It looked like a paper cut or a cat scratch and only had a few dots of dried blood.

The rest of them were much deeper by comparison, and Logan noticed how they kept getting deeper as he had continued.

The last one he had done was splitting his skin apart nearly half an inch, causing blood to pour out.

They were all still bleeding, except his first one, but at least they had slowed down.

Seven cuts, running horizontally across his forearm.

Could’ve been worse.

It was still bad what he had done, though. He knew the others would freak out if they knew, just like he would if it was one of them.

He cursed himself for doing something so stupid over nothing.

Oh, am I nothing?

Logan flinched back and cradled his damaged arm to his torso, not caring about the blood leaking into his clothing and the way the fabric stung his cuts.

You know that’s not what I meant.

Are you sure about that? Whatever, I think you deserved this. You should’ve done more though.

I’ve done enough. Leave me alone.

Aw, why would I do that and let you off so easily?

Please…

This is your penance. There’s no rest for the wicked, after all!

Logan scrunched his face up at the evil, sing-song voice that filled his head and covered his ears.

“Just shut up,” he mumbled, hitting his temple with the palm of his hand.

At that moment, there came a knock on his door.

Logan straightened up and looked at the time.

[06:23 a.m.]

It couldn’t be Patton or Virgil. They slept like the dead until 11 o’clock at the earliest.

“Logan?”

It was Janus.

“Y-yeah?” Logan responded, cursing himself silently for the quiver in his voice.

“He’s awake.”

Logan’s eyes shot open widely and he nearly ran over to his door to rip it open, but stopped himself.

His arm. The blood.

“I’ll be down in a second. Keep an eye on him.” Logan replied quickly, ripping off his soiled shirt and flinching as the fabric tugged on his wounds.

“Okay,” Janus replied and Logan stood still as he listened for his retreating footsteps.

After a few seconds, he finally heard him walking away and let out a breath of relief.

Looking down, Logan took a deep breath as he ran his hand down his arm to get rid of the wounds.

But they didn’t go away.

Logan looked at his left hand and just saw smeared blood.

He tried again, gritting his teeth against the pain of pushing and dragging on the cuts.

They bled harder.

He could hear his pulse in his ears as he began to panic, dragging his hand down his arm over and over again, aggravating the cuts and making them bleed more.

“Oh, no no no no no,” he said to himself, taking a step backwards and running a hand through his hair.

Ooooo, you may want to deal with those!

Logan scowled at the peppy voice.

“Why aren't they going away?” he asked, his fear turning to anger as he clenched his fists.

Like I said, this is your penance. Now hide them and hurry up!

He didn’t want to listen to him, but he didn’t see another choice. Quickly, he conjured up a black hoodie and some gauze.

Good job, Logan. Get ready quickly and I’ll meet you down there.

***

TAGLIST:

A chorus of accusations danced around his head, wreaking havoc as they multiplied and swarmed his logical senses.

All he could see was Roman’s lifeless body, shrouded by darkness that squirmed and writhed menacingly at Logan.

You’re welcome, Logan.

I did what you wanted.

No more bothersome “dreams.”

No more stupid art.

No more me.

You won.

Blow after blow came at him, sinking him further into a pit of icy despair and hopelessness of which he could never imagine escaping from.

All of a sudden, Roman’s body was out of his sight, replaced by a set of hands reaching out for him.

Trying to grab him.

To pull him even further below the water where the sun couldn’t penetrate.

Logan felt his body lurch out of the living room as if someone else was in the driver's seat and he was just along for the ride.

Falling into a heap on the floor of his bedroom, he tried to push himself into a sitting position, relying heavily on the post of his bed to keep him upright.

He felt a ripple in the darkness around him.

A drop of water falling into a still ocean.

A drop of blood hitting a name on a yellow sticky note.

Janus.

The darkness squirmed and moved aside, forming a thin path to his desk.

Logan let go of the post and fell hard to the ground, feeling no pain.

A quick rush of endorphins that left his head clearer than it had been in weeks.

Gritting his teeth, he started crawling slowly to his desk, feeling the darkness begin to close in again.

A cut that only lasted a second.

He picked up his pace, barely feeling his elbows digging into the hardwood floor.

A calmness that lasted a minute.

The darkness was closing in fast, leaving nothing more than light the width of a thread to guide him.

An endless cycle.

His hands hit the desk and he picked himself up enough to reach the top drawer.

But a solution.

He pulled it open and frantically searched it with his hand until he felt it.

The cool touch of metal.

His vision began to clear up

He picked it up and fell back to the ground, leaning his back against his chair and holding the metal object up to his eyes.

It gleamed in the light, cutting through the darkness like a knife and penetrating the ocean’s waters with its bright beams.

He looked down to his pristine, porcelain forearm and then back to the blade.

‘Just a few,’ he thought to himself, bringing the blade down to rest on his arm.

He hesitated a second.

Then two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Hesitation.

He pulled the blade a centimeter off of his skin.

Only the sound of his quick breaths and raging heartbeat could be heard as he eyed the blade hungrily.

You’re welcome, Logan.

FAWN’S PART 1

JAY’S PART 1

JAY’S PART 2

FAWN’S PART 2

JAY’S PART 3

FAWN’S PART 3

JAY’S PART 4

FAWN'S PART 4

JAY'S PART 5

JAY’S PART 6

Logan appeared outside of Janus's room and knocked loudly on his door, causing flakes of brown paint to fall off under his knuckles.

‘Maybe we should pay more attention to the basement,’ he thought to himself as he looked around the odd living room Remus and Janus had set up.

There was an old, saggy couch and a dangerously broken recliner against the far wall and a TV in the middle of the room facing the seats. In the corner of the room was a table with two place names that read Janus and Remus.

Opposite to where Logan was currently standing, there was another door that appeared to be only mould and mushrooms with a large R on it made out of dead mice.

Logan shivered and turned back to Janus’s door as he heard rustling behind it and the door swung open, revealing a rustled, sleepy, and exasperated Deceit who was already speaking.

“Remus, I swear to all the Gods if you try to put a rat in the—” he stopped short as he came face to face with Logan.

“Logic! It’s definitely not a surprise to see you.” Janus said coolly, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“What can’t I do for you at this lovely hour?”

Logan kept his face straight as he maintained eye contact with Deceit’s mismatched eyes.

“Do you know where Roman is?”

Janus’s eyes turned to slits as he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re asking me where I think Roman would be at five in the morning? I would assume bed, however I assume you’re here because that’s not the case.”

Logan simply gave a curt nod and Janus closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“I also assume you have a good reason to think I know, so come inside and we can talk more.” he said as he pushed himself off the door frame and turned around, walking back into his room and leaving the door open.

Logan quickly walked in and closed the door behind him.

Janus’s room was a little bare, but seemed comfortable enough. A bed sat in the left hand corner of the room and a black bedside table sat to its right with a lamp on it that was currently casting the room in a warm, yellow glow. In the far right hand corner of the room was a small wardrobe with a laundry bin to the left of it.

The only other thing in the room was a desk opposite to the bed that seemed to be covered in different philosophy books, along with a lone astronomy book on top.

Logan looked away quickly to face Janus, who was sat cross legged on his bed inspecting Logan.

“Sit down, won’t you?” he said, motioning to his desk chair.

Logan adjusted his tie.

“No thank you, I don’t think this should take too long.”

Janus shrugged and leaned backwards onto his arms.

“How swell. Now then, please tell me how I may be of service to your little quest.”

Logan looked down as he pulled Roman’s two notes out of his pocket and held them up.

Janus leaned forward to read the notes and Logan watched as his face went from concentration to confusion.

“These were on his door this morning.” Logan said before the other could ask any questions.

“Not only were these on his door, but his door has also been painted over with yellow paint and he wouldn’t answer my knocking.”

Janus stood up and walked over, pulling the notes from Logan’s hand and inspecting them.

“Why is there blood on this one?” he asked, his voice soft as his eyes took in the notes.

“Don’t worry, that was me. I accidentally gave myself a paper cut. No big deal.” Logan replied evenly and Janus let out a long breath.

“Be careful.” Janus quickly scolded, looking at Logan as he handed back the notes.

Logan took the notes back and held them in his right hand as he watched Janus think, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the ground.

“Well, have you checked the kitchen? The living room? Are you sure he’s not in his room?” Janus asked, looking back to Logan.

He felt his face heat up slightly as he replied, “I haven’t actually, and no I’m not sure. I didn’t want to invade his privacy, though maybe I should’ve looked around more before waking you up. I apologize.”

Janus let out a sigh.

“It’s okay, we can split up. You check his room while I check the living room and the kitchen.”

Logan felt his heart jump.

“Actually, I think you should check his room and I’ll look downstairs.”

Janus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? If he’s in his room then he definitely isn’t going to be happy about me barging in on him.”

Logan nodded quickly.

“I doubt he’s in there anyway. He would’ve answered my knocking if he was. He’s more likely to be downstairs, so I’ll take that.”

Janus only raised his eyebrow more, letting silence sit between them for a moment.

“Okay then, fine. Shall we get going then?”

Logan repressed a sigh of relief as he nodded, sinking out into the kitchen.

He knew Roman would be mad to see either one of them, but Logan wasn’t sure if he could handle Roman getting mad at him for intruding into his room.

He realized he was kind of throwing Janus under the bus, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Just a quick look around the kitchen and Logan knew that Roman hadn’t been there since at least the day before since his mug wasn’t out.

The living room then.

Logan walked out of the kitchen and let out a sigh of relief as he saw Roman asleep on the couch.

Roman was okay. Of course he was. Logan was just overreacting.

Letting out a small laugh, Logan was about to turn to go back to his room when he noticed something odd.

Logan squinted his eyes and took a few slow steps towards Roman.

Was he even breathing?

Logan’s eyes shot open and he dashed to the wall to flip on the light switch, casting the room in a bright glow that illuminated everything wrong with the current picture.

Quickly making his way to kneel next to Roman, he felt his blood run cold.

Roman was breathing, but barely. Definitely not enough to maintain life functions for long.

He put the back of his hand to Roman’s pale forehead and yanked it back almost immediately.

He was ice cold.

Logan fell backwards and pushed himself away from Roman’s body quickly, not even noticing his breathing picking up to an alarming speed as his thoughts began to twist and turn around his head.

Are you happy now, Logan?

No! No, of course I’m not!

Don’t you hate me, Logan?

No, I could never hate you!

Hey, hey Logan. Wanna hear a joke?

Please stop.

Art is Dead.

Please.

Ha ha, get it Logan?

Please. I’m sorry.

No you aren’t.

What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be sorry? I never meant to hurt you!

You wanted me gone.

That isn’t true.

I granted yours and everyone else’s wish.

No.

Logan would admit it. He was more than a little confused.

He had been making his daily 5 a.m. trek out of his room while no one else was awake to make sure the common space was tidy for the others.

He didn’t want to bother anyone, but keeping Thomas’s headspace clean was important.

Unfortunately, cleaning would have to wait.

Logan was sitting at his desk, looking at the note he held in his hand with confusion as he tried to make sense of it.

You’re welcome, Logan. I hope you’re happy now.

Logan let go of the note, leaning backwards and looking to his ceiling as it fluttered down to lie on his desk.

He inspected his plain ceiling, looking at all the outlines of the stars that had once been there.

Logan shook his head in disgust and looked back to his desk. He leaned forward and grabbed a sticky note, scribbling a quick reminder for himself to wash his ceiling.

Placing the note on the edge of his desk, he sighed and picked back up Roman’s apparent final note.

Was everything always his fault? He thought he had been doing well at staying away from everyone unless necessary.

Nearly three weeks now. That’s how long Logan had stayed hidden in his room.

No one came knocking on his door as he had asked, thankfully. He was happy to at least finally be listened to.

Logan felt a twinge in his heart and flinched back.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting whatever had been trying to bubble up within him disappear again.

Now wasn’t the time for emotions.

He let out his breath and opened his eyes, inspecting the small note in his hand once again.

He really had no idea what to think of it. Roman seemed to think he was doing something Logan wanted him to do.

His mouth turned into a small frown as he put down that note and picked up the other one that had been on the door.

Janus

Logan had no idea why Deceit was getting drawn into anything. Was it to do with the last video?

Probably. Roman was particularly unhappy with everyone after they all agreed with Deceit.

But why was Roman’s second note directed at Logan specifically? Was it still because of the playlist, or had he done something else?

His nose scrunched up in thought and he ran his finger over the edge of the paper without thinking.

Feeling a sharp pain in his finger, he jumped and dropped the note as he saw blood begin to pool on his index finger.

Logan stared wide eyed as the blood drop became bigger and started moving down his finger.

It… felt kind of nice. The sharp pain brought him out of his thoughts quickly before he could go too far down that figurative ‘rabbit hole’ and accidentally bring up those pesky emotions again.

Logan shook his head softly and rubbed his thumb against the cut, wiping it out of existence.

He looked back down at the notes, noticing that he accidentally let a drop of blood fall directly on top of Janus’s name.

“Hmmm…” Logan hummed, tracing his finger over the blood, streaking it across the note.

Perhaps Deceit, or Janus, might have an idea of what to make of this information.

Logan looked at his alarm clock.

[05:34 a.m.]

This was easier than he thought it would be.

Patton nor Virgil had come knocking on his door to get him to go down for dinner like they always did.

Good. He had work to do anyway.

Logan stretched his arms above his head and his back let out a resounding crack, relieving some of the tension that had been sitting in his spine.

He let out a sigh of relief and lowered his arms, taking a quick glance around his reformed room.

The glow in the dark stars were the first thing to go. They were so childish, he couldn’t believe he had kept them up for as long as he did.

The second thing to go was his book collection. He didn’t need the whole collection of Sherlock and he definitely didn’t need the astronomy books anymore. Thomas was never going to pick up astronomy, no matter how often he said he wanted to. All the books ever did was collect dust and Logan was done with wasting space.

He then changed his constellation bed sheets to plain navy blue and black ones. He also got rid of his carpet, replacing it with a hard wood floor that would be easier to keep clean. After that, he swept off his shelves that were filled with knick knacks, including the 12ᵗʰ Doctor’s Sonic Screwdriver. Logan wouldn’t admit it, even to himself, but it hurt him to throw that into the box of things he was getting rid of.

Within an hour, the box was filled and Logan’s room had been transformed into a plain room with only the basic essential needs in it. A coffee maker, a bed, a desk with a chair, and a wardrobe.

That’s right. Logan still had one more matter to deal with.

He walked over to his wardrobe and opened it up, revealing 5 different black polo shirts, 5 pairs of black jeans, 5 pairs of rolled socks and underwear, and finally a blue unicorn onesie.

Logan pulled the onesie out of the wardrobe by the hanger and glared at it.

So childish. He couldn’t believe that he actually ever wore it as a teen, let alone a grown adult.

With a roll of his eyes and a huff, Logan chucked it on top of the overflowing box of rejected stuff.

Turning back to his wardrobe, Logan snapped his fingers and a pair of black joggers and a navy t-shirt appeared in the old place of the onesie.

With a curt nod of his head, Logan closed the doors to his wardrobe.

Cracking his knuckles and neck, Logan turned to deal with the box of stuff.

He glared once again at the onesie on top and at all the childish things overflowing onto his floor. All his passions ever did was hold him back and it was time to put an end to it.

Walking over, he gave the box a kick and snapped his fingers, making it all disappear in a second.

Logan checked under his bed to make sure nothing had rolled out and then took one last look around his room.

Empty.

Perfect.

He looked to the alarm clock that sat on his desk.

[9:20 pm]

He was usually in bed by 9:30, but after a quick look at the coffee machine and his desk, he decided it didn’t really matter.

He turned the machine on, letting the bitter smell of the coffee energize him as he sat down and pulled a stack of papers to him.

He could sleep later. He had other matters to deal with.

Neatly on a piece of paper, he started to write two words in large, bold writing. He then leaned over and got a piece of tape.

Standing up as the machine started to spurt out coffee into his plain mug, he walked over and opened his door.

He placed the note on his door and closed it again. The sound of his lock clicking echoed down the dark, empty hallway as the clean white note seemed to shine.

Virgil had been helping Logan develop a ‘sense of humor’ and taught him how to joke around with the others.

He didn’t fully understand the logical purpose behind doing this at first, simply going along to appease Virgil. As time went on, however, he found he enjoyed seeing the others smirk and having them joking back with him.

If anything, it was a whole new form of communication and Logan considered himself to be learning a new language.

In other words, he was having fun.

So, when making a playlist of songs he liked and felt described him well, he decided to add ‘Art is Dead’ by Bo Burnham. It was a direct jab at Roman, but he didn’t mean any harm. He thought it was funny as a very VERY over exaggerated representation of how Logan used to view Roman.

He believed it was called ‘sarcasm’ or something like that. When he added it to the playlist, he thought Roman would also be amused and they could bicker a little like he and Virgil tend to do.

Logan looked down at Roman’s phone in his hand, headphones draped on his wrist and the phone screen lit up, showing that Roman had been listening to his playlist.

Logan looked back up to Roman’s door and knocked again, wiggling the door knob as if it would magically unlock.

“I’m so sorry.” Logan said softly, letting his hand fall from the door.

Logan looked back down at Roman’s phone and tightened his grip on it before heading back downstairs to the others.

Patton and Virgil looked at Logan nervously as he entered the living room. Virgil stopped his pacing around the room and Patton clasped his hands together in front of him.

Logan, still standing in the doorway, looked at both of them respectively before walking in and placing Roman’s phone on the coffee table softly.

“I think one of you should talk to him. I’ll be in my room.” he said softly, sinking out of the living room before they could ask questions.

Logan looked up from the floor and walked slowly over to his desk, sitting down in his chair.

He eyed all the paperwork on his desk. Ideas of all sorts that he and Roman had worked on together, plans and schedules that had been carefully constructed, and right on top was a list of jokes that he and Virgil had come up with.

Logan carefully picked the list up, letting his eyes glaze over the words before ripping the paper in half slowly.

Letting the two halves of the list fall out of his hands onto the floor, Logan leaned back in his chair and looked up at his ceiling, still littered with glow in the dark stars he’s had since his room came into existence.

He never let the others see his room in an attempt to keep up a professional appearance. He didn’t need them to know about his childish tendencies.

Logan’s vision began to grow blurry as the tears that he had been holding back finally began to make their presence known.

One blink later had a tear running down his cheek and the blink after that finally released a sob as Logan’s repressed emotions hit him full force.

Logan moved his head, wiped the tears off his cheeks, and pushed his chair closer to his desk.

Repressing his sobs as best as he could and as his tears continued to stream down his cheeks, he picked up his pencil and placed his legal pad in front of him.

He wrote quickly, not bothering to stop his tears from wrinkling the paper.

Done writing, he put his pencil down. After wiping his tears off his cheeks and the paper, he then ripped the page off and looked over it quickly to make sure it was okay.

Looking up to his cork board in front of his desk, he leaned over and ripped off an old note.

Rules

1. ‘Joke’ lessons with Virgil once a day

2. Practice with vocabulary cards

3. Leave room more often and see the others

4. Maintain professional appearance and attire when possible

5. Be friendlier

He sniffled and crumpled the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder.

The numb feeling he was so used to started to come over him again and he wiped away the last of his tears as he pinned his new note to his cork board.

New Rules

1. No more joking with the others

2.Give up on the slang and the vocabulary cards

3. Only leave room when necessary for a video

4. Keep up professional appearance and attire no matter what

5. Don’t make friends

He leaned back in his chair again and nodded to himself.

“I think I may be slightly more drunk than I thought.”

Virgil huffed and rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on the other as he felt him shift.

“You think, Sherlock?” he quipped back sarcastically.

Logan didn’t reply to this, letting the shorter male support him as they made their way slowly back to his apartment.

“You’re a lot more strong than I thought.” Logan slurred and Virgil let out a soft grunt as more of Logan’s weight fell onto him.

“I don’t think that’s proper english, nerd.” he replied, stopping briefly to get a more secure grip on him so that he wouldn’t fall.

Logan mumbled a few things at this, resting his head on top of Virgil’s as they continued walking.

Virgil sighed, questioning their choice to go out that night with Patton and Roman.

Usually, Roman is the usually the only one who really gets drunk and the rest of them are just there to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself by doing anything stupid.

However, at the party, Roman had bet that Logan couldn’t out drink him. Logan had been fairly certain he could, but also decided that there was no point in putting them both at harm just to prove himself.

Virgil wasn’t entirely sure when that resolve changed, but after a few hours he and Patton found them both arguing about who drank more whilst lying on the ground outside.

“Star gazing,” Logan insisted it was.

So Patton decided that he’d gather up Roman and take him home and Virgil could take Logan. Virgil had readily agreed, knowing that Logan, though tall and lanky, also had no muscle mass and would by far be easier to get back.

Logan also happened to live closer to their location, so Virgil decided that he would just take him back to his place and then leave him to his hangover.

It took a while, but eventually Virgil found himself shuffling into the elevator and straining to press the button to the 3rd floor without dropping Logan.

As the elevator jerked upwards, Virgil felt his stomach flip as he prayed that it wouldn’t break and drop them into an endless abyss of darkness and death.

Thankfully, they got off the elevator without a hitch and then began the long trek to the end of the hallway where Logan’s apartment sat.

Virgil’s body began to shake under Logan’s weight. Virgil wasn’t exactly the buffest guy in the world, and he had just walked 5 blocks acting as Logan’s walking stick.

He was gonna be sore tomorrow, but for now he was just trying not to collapse to the ground and get pinned under Logan.

“Hey, Lo. Where are your keys?” Virgil huffed between heavy breaths.

Logan grumbled and patted down his pockets with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Virgil’s shoulders.

“Mhmm.” Logan moaned, reaching his hand in his left pocket and fumbling as he tried to pass his the key to Virgil.

Virgil quickly took the key before Logan dropped it and sighed as he pushed the door open, leading Logan inside.

The door closed behind them and they slowly down the dark hallway as Virgil tried not to bash into anything.

“Son of a bitch!” Virgil shouted as he failed at this, bashing his knee into a table and knocking over a vase with a crash.

“There’s a… table there.” Logan muttered, only partially awake in Virgil’s slipping hold.

Virgil huffed and blew upwards at the hair falling on his forehead and then continued down the hallway until they came to the living room.

Thankfully, the living room contained some light due to the street lights and billboards outside so Virgil could walk freely without dying.

Bringing Logan around to the front of the couch, he leaned down and let him collapse to the couch with a soft grunt from both of them.

Virgil sighed and stood back up, stretching and cracking his knuckles and neck. He could count that as his workout for the day, right?

Now that he had been satisfyingly cracked like a glow stick and he could breathe normally, Virgil moved to leave, fully intending to go home and binge watch Netflix until sunrise, when he felt a pull on his jeans.

Looking down, he saw that Logan had put his fingers through one of Virgil’s belt loops with a surprisingly firm grip.

Virgil gave him a questioning look and, despite Logan’s eyes appearing to be closed, Logan softly said, “You can’t go, you know.”

Virgil let out a huff of laughter and put his hands on his hips.

“And why is that?”

Logan looked at Virgil through half closed eyes before sighing and leaning into the couch more.

“Science thingys. I drank a lot of alcohol, I could easily die if I’m not being watched.” he mumbled.

Logan’s grip loosened on Virgil’s jeans, allowing for him to easily pull away if he wanted to.

Virgil looked down at Logan and then back to the door and sighed.

He couldn’t just leave Logan, even if he really wanted to just go home.

Plopping down onto the couch next to Logan, he felt his annoyance slowly leave him as Logan gravitated towards him and latched onto him.

Virgil huffed out a laugh and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer.

In the morning, Logan would justify his actions with a red face as being purely logical as, “alcohol leads to lower core body temperature and body contact is the best way to maintain warmth.”