#background analogical

Remus learned two things in the following days: Friends are weird and romance is gross.

Fortunately for that second one, Virgil and Logan were not a couple that engaged in a lot of PDA, so most of the time things were fine.  It did cause him to avoid the two slightly more though, which really sucked.  He wanted to hear all of Virgil’s opinions on The Epic Saga of Bryan and Stacy.  But it couldn’t be helped.  It’s not like he could ask them to stop talking about romance completely for his sake.  But it was like realizing he was broken in the romance department made everything having to do with it ten times more awful.

Luckily, the first one of those things he learned wasn’t such a problem.  Because yes, friends were weird, but not at all in a bad way.  Patton was bright to the point of giving Remus a headache sometimes, but it also meant Remus never once doubted it when he gave him a hug and said he was glad to see him.  Logan had a ton of weird science facts that were disturbing in just the right kind of way.  Virgil and him clicked with a lot of interests, such as horror movies, Halloween, and all things creepy (though he agreed with Roman that Disney was better than Dreamworks, the traitor).  And then there was Janus.

Remus fucking loved Janus.  He was exactly the right kind of sarcastic asshole that made him so much fun to tease other people with, and he seemed to delight that Remus loved to do the same.  He had a tendency to whack other people on the head with self care when they needed it, and Remus learned that he’d often done such for Roman, meaning he instantly gained a ton of respect points in Remus’ book.  He knew how to be suave and charming to talk himself out of trouble, which would be very helpful in their future as world-renowned criminals.  And, of course, he was incredibly hot, which was also a requirement for being a world-renowned criminal, Remus had just decided.  (There was this move he had where he looked at you and leaned in and then smirked— let’s just say Remus was lucky he had yet to be on the receiving end of it.)

And Remus apparently wasn’t done finding things to love about Janus, because the closer he got, the more he found.  And Janus was surprisingly easy to get close to— or maybe that was just him?  Everyone else seemed to think it was weird.

Either way, they’d gotten pretty close pretty quickly.  They’d developed a habit of Janus coming home with him and Roman, as long as he left by dinner so he never had to deal with their parents.

…Well, okay, they hadn’t explained it that way to Janus.  But he was always gone by dinner.

“You know,” Janus mused, as Remus was going over the next plotline in The Epic Saga of Bryan and Stacy where he was going to introduce the zombie antichrist.  “Have you ever considered making merch?”

Remus gave him a curious look.  “You think people would buy it?”

“Your fanbase has thousands of people in it now,” Janus pointed out.  “I’d be surprised if no one wanted any.  You could always put out a poll to see.”

“Huh,” Remus said, considering the idea.  It wasn’t a terrible one.  He was pretty sure making quality merch was different than just drawing a good comic, but he could probably learn.  And Logan was pretty decent at graphic design stuff, he might actually be able to help with shit like the website.

“Alright,” Remus said, shrugging.  “I’ll think about it.”

“You know who to call when you want help pricing,” Janus said, leaning back casually against the wall.

“You’ll just price them too high,” Remus said, whacking Janus playfully on the arm.

“Excuse me?  Is that implying that your work is not worth hundreds of dollars?”

“I mean, it’s just a dumb comic I draw in my freetime,” Remus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Janus whacked him on the head.

“Hey!” Remus called, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, it just sounded like you called your comic dumb, and I can’t let that stand,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s still not worth hundreds of dollars,” Remus said, brushing past the real response that had come to mind— that how could it not be dumb, he was the one that made it.

“Hmm.  Agree to disagree, then.  It’s still worth more than you’re thinking, and I’m coming up with the pricing.”

“If I even decide to make merch,” Remus said.

“And if you do?” Janus said, giving him a look.

“Fine,” Remus said, rolling his eyes.  “If I do, you get to help with the pricing.”

“I suppose I’ll settle for that,” Janus said, giving a world-weary sigh.

Remus smacked him on the arm again, and Janus chuckled.

“Hey,” came a new voice, and they both glanced over to the door to see Roman sticking his head in the room.  “Remus, I need your help with my algebra.”

That was the code they’d come up with for ‘Time’s up, you have to get Janus out of here now, Mom and Dad will be home soon’ if one of them ever happened to lose track of time.

“I thought you were supposed to be lightening up on the homework,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow at Roman.

“I am,” Roman said, crossing his arms.  “I’m doing this and then I’m done for the day.”

“Alright,” Janus said, holding up his hands.  He climbed off the bed and turned to face Remus.  “See you tomorrow?”

“See you then,” Remus said, giving Janus an affectionate shoulder nudge as they headed out of the room.  Remus waved to him as he headed towards his car, and then as soon as he had driven off Remus shut the door and turned to face Roman.

“Okay, how are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying not to panic, mostly,” Roman admitted, starting to shake his hands back and forth.  He’d gotten a B on his chemistry test the other day, and their parents were bound to ask tonight, since they knew he’d had one this week.  Roman couldn’t avoid mentioning it forever.

“Okay, okay, let’s think on this,” Remus said, moving towards him.  “We already cleaned the house yesterday, which put them in a better mood, is there something else we can do that won’t make it obvious we’re trying to soften any kind of blow?”

“Well, it’s not like we can make dinner,” Roman said.  “Neither of us know how to cook.  I really haven’t gotten all my homework done—”

“Is anything due tomorrow or big enough that you need multiple days to finish it?”

“No,” Roman said, wincing.

“Then that’s off the table,” Remus said firmly.  That was the boundary they’d established.  Once dinner was over, no more homework unless it was major or urgent.

“Well I can’t think of anything else,” Roman said, biting his lip hard enough Remus started to worry he’d draw blood.

Remus sighed and moved to put his hands on Roman’s shoulders.  “This might be it, Ro,” he said.  “You might just have to tell them.”

Being on the same team as Roman again was bizarre.  Remus was pretty sure it hadn’t happened since elementary school, it should not have come so naturally to them both.  But here they were.  Remus had been on the mission of ‘distracting from Roman’s slightly slipping grades’ since he’d started taking more time to breathe.  His grades had really only dropped from A-pluses to B-pluses, but that was enough to get disapproval from their parents.  And unfortunately, Remus could only get in trouble so many times before he was suspended.

Roman wrapped his arms around himself and took a shaky breath.  “What are they gonna look like?” he asked nervously.

Remus winced.  “Uh, kind of like they regret ever having you in the first place,” he admitted.  Roman took a shaky breath and buried his hands in his hair, starting to pull.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus said, reaching forward and gently moving Roman’s hands down.  “It’s gonna be okay.  I’m gonna be right here and all that shit.”

Roman made some kind of noise of acknowledgement.

“Hey,” Remus said.  “I don’t know how much this helps, but most people still consider a B to be really good.  Especially in chemistry.  That stuff’s bullshit.”

Roman laughed a little.  “Thanks, Re.  I’m gonna be okay, I just…” he let out a shaky sigh.

“I get it,” Remus said.  “Really.  You do know they’re the ones being unreasonable, right?”

“More or less,” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Good enough,” Remus said.  It wasn’t, but it would have to do for now.

Before either of them could say anything else, out front came the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and both of them tensed.

“Okay,” Remus said.  “Let’s do this.  And then we can decompress in your room with The Office afterwards.”

“Oh, yes please, I’m going to need to laugh,” Roman muttered.  They both headed upstairs to wait for their parents to call them down, which tended to take about a half an hour before dinner was made.

Today, however, Mom came up the stairs and poked her head into Roman’s room.  She looked a little surprised when she saw them both together, but moved on a second later.

“Hey, grab your jackets you two, we figured we’d go out to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, really?” Roman asked.  “Why?”

“Just for fun,” Mom said.  “We haven’t been in awhile and your dad just got paid.  Be down in ten minutes, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Roman called.

“And put on something more appropriate Remus, okay?” Mom said, giving his outfit a slightly disgusted once over.

She headed back out, and instantly all of the tension rushed out of Roman’s body.  “They’re not going to ask about grades in public,” he muttered, sounding relieved.

“You okay?” Remus said, leaning against his side in a hope to provide some comfort.

“You think they’re gonna ask tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Remus said.

Roman took a deep breath and shifted to sit upright.  “Hey,” he said, turning to face Remus, his tone shifting as he did so.  “I’m sorry I’ve been so useless lately.  If you need help or something I can still try, okay?”

“That’s not you being useless,” Remus said, knocking his head gently against Roman’s.  “Just you being stressed and having less spoons as a result.  It’s all good.”  He stood up and offered his hand out to Roman.  “Let’s go eat too much food.”

Roman smiled a little.  “Deal,” he said, and took Remus’ hand.

…

Remus had been unsure about joining the drama club at first, but Roman and Janus both loved it, and they were two very strong temptations, so eventually he gave in.  Roman acted, obviously, and Janus did makeup.  And it turned out Virgil also worked on the set, so Remus was pretty likely to have company he enjoyed.

He was much better at drawing than he was at any kind of makeup, though he was interested in learning.  Janus offered to teach him, but that didn’t mean he’d be a ton of help this time around, so he decided on next semester.  And it was too late for him to audition, so that ruled out acting, and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have wanted to anyway.  He had no desire to be seen as the worst twin once again, as he told Virgil once they started working on the set together.

“Woah, dude,” Virgil said, giving him a look and turning from where they were painting the backdrop.  “Who says you’re the worst twin?”

“Everyone?” Remus said with a shrug.  “Teachers, relatives, our parents—”

“Your parents?”

“And I mean, you guys were only friends with Roman until recently, he’s obviously the favorite.”

“Uh, no, fuck that,” Virgil said, setting his paintbrush down.  “That’s not how that works.  We weren’t friends with you because we were stupid and didn’t realize how much you rule.”

Remus snorted.  “Yeah, sure, thanks Virge.”

“Hey,” Virgil said, grabbing Remus’ arm.  “I’m not kidding, moron.  I don’t have a favorite twin.  What kind of fucked up bullshit is that?”

Remus gave him a look, and it must have come across as disbelief, because Virgil stepped back, looking a little disturbed.  “Dude, seriously, what the fuck.  I’m serious.  I don’t have a favorite twin.”

Remus furrowed his brow, giving that some thought.  “Huh.  Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Huh,” Remus said again.  “Okay.  Thanks, Virgil.”

“Why are you thanking me— dude, are you okay?”

“Oh definitely not,” Remus said, turning back to face the backdrop and finally starting to paint again.  “I’m all kinds of fucked up.  Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean don’t worry about it?  You’re my friend.  Of course I’m gonna worry about it.”

Remus shrugged.  “I dunno.  I guess I just mean, there’s not really anything you can do, so… don’t waste your time?”

That just resulted in Virgil frowning more, though, and Remus wasn’t sure why.

“Okay, fine,” Virgil said finally.  “I’ll let it go for now because we’ve got stuff to do, but we’re gonna have future conversations about this bullshit.  Prepare yourself.”

“Uh.  Okay?” Remus said hesitantly, starting to paint again.

True to his word, Virgil didn’t revisit the topic again that night, but Remus didn’t doubt he’d be doing it in the future.

He was still surprised Virgil cared so much.  Remus would have figured he had other things to think about, what with him dating Logan, and having other friends, and Remus being the worst twin— except, wait, he’d said he didn’t think that, hadn’t he?

God, that was bizarre.  A part of him thought he hadn’t explained it right to Virgil or something, because he’d been the worst twin for as long as he could remember.

But other than that thoroughly strange interaction, drama club was surprisingly fun.  Hanging out with Virgil was great, and sometimes Janus showed up to help them bug Roman.  The three of them clicked surprisingly well, and it wasn’t long before Remus could consider them some of the most important people in his life.  Granted, not that he had a ton of other options.  The only other person who was part of that category was Roman.  But Remus still adored it when the three of them hung out together.

Virgil thought Janus’ idea about merch was fantastic, which apparently meant it was happening now.  He had helped Remus set up a good way to ask people what kind of things they’d want, and the most popular answers were T-shirts, bumper stickers, and coffee mugs.  And well, if you could enjoy your coffee in a mug that had an image of a human and a zombie fucking on it, you were Remus’ kind of people.  He was planning on launching the merch next month, he’d hopefully get a couple extra dollars out of it.

“You’re gonna get more than a couple dollars, moron,” Virgil said, nudging Remus in the side.  “I vote you start saving for college.”

“How much do you think I’m going to get?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“When I’m done with the pricing?  At least a couple thousand,” Janus said casually, looking over the sketches Remus had made.

Remus gave him a look, and Janus sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said.  “But you’re going to get at least a couple hundred.  Saving some of it somewhere isn’t a terrible idea.”

“I don’t even know if I’m going to college,” Remus said with a shrug.  “The only thing I’m decent at is drawing, and I don’t want to try and make a living off my hobbies.  I’ll just work in retail to survive my whole life like the miserable failure I am.”

“Hey,” Virgil said, smacking him on the arm.  “No.  Bad.  We’re not doing self depreciation in this Chili’s tonight.”

“Agreed,” Janus said.  “It’s bad for your self esteem.”

“What self esteem,” Remus deadpanned.

“The self esteem we’re going to build for you out of compliments and merchandise,” Janus said, patting Remus on the shoulder.  “Besides, it’s a blatantly false statement.  Do you know how many people can keep up with Logan in regards to chemistry?  It’s not a large number.”

“Eh, Roman’s better at that class than I am,” Remus said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Not since he’s stopped running himself into the ground he’s not,” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow.  “I’m not saying Roman’s not freaking smart, but he’s not better than you at everything.  You know that’s just kind of not how people work, right?  Everyone’s smart in different ways.  I couldn’t draw a whole comic the way you do.”

“Hmm,” Remus considered that for a moment.  “Fair enough, I guess.  I don’t think that solves the problem of not knowing how I want to make money, though.”

Virgil snorted.  “Fair enough,” he said, and they refocused on the merchandise sketches.

So… yeah.  Remus kind of loved them both.  He wasn’t sure why they both insisted so much on complimenting him and not letting him insult himself, but it was kind of… nice?  It felt good, anyway.  And it was fun to compliment them back and watch them get flustered for a change.

Or, well.  Watch Virgil get flustered.  Janus just agreed with everything you said with that fucking smirk on his face.

Remus was right.  Being on the other side of it was not something he was prepared for.

…

Roman was freaking out about telling their parents about his grades again, so in order to hopefully be helpful, Remus let him hang out with Janus and him after school.  Roman and Janus were both dramatic bitches that reveled in said drama, and so they worked off each other well.  Remus could easily see why they became friends in the first place.

The two of them found delight in making fun of people.  Roman felt bad doing it to people’s faces, but he still loved doing it as long as they wouldn’t get hurt, so Janus was a crucial relationship of his.  And Remus enjoyed making fun of people just as much, so he fit right in with their established dynamic.

Unfortunately, there was still an issue that came with the three of them getting along so well, and that was with the way that they were all reminded time existed— the front door opening and their mother calling Roman’s name.

Roman instantly went stiff as a board, and Remus scrambled quickly for his phone only to confirm what was already obvious, that Janus should have left fifteen minutes ago.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Janus said, looking between them both.  “Why did you both suddenly freeze?”

“Roman!” called their mother, sounding much more angry.

Roman was starting to shake, and Remus grabbed his hand, trying to figure out what else he could possibly do.

“Roman?” Janus asked, looking more concerned.

“Roman!” called their mother.  “We need to have a talk!”

Well, that sounded delightful.  Remus had a couple guesses as to what she could be talking about, and he also knew Roman was in no place to talk about it.

He looked over at Janus.  “Uh,” he said.  “How do you feel about staying for dinner?”

Janus stared at him.  “What?”

“We’re in here, Mom!” Remus called before she could tell again, and his door opened a second later.

She definitely looked angry about something, but it faded the second she saw Janus.  “Who’s this?”

“Friend from school,” Remus said as smoothly as he could manage, moving forward so he could keep squeezing Roman’s hand behind his back but Mom couldn’t see.  “I was wondering if he could stay for dinner?”

Mom crossed her arms and frowned at them both in turn.  “You both brought a friend over without telling us?”

“He’s my friend,” Remus said instantly.  “It was my idea.  Sorry, I should have run it by you.”

Mom looked again at Janus, and she finally seemed to catch up with the situation, because she sighed and ended in a smile.

“It’s alright,” she said.  “Just let me know next time so I can plan ahead, okay?  It’s lovely to meet you…” she trailed off, looking at Janus.

“Janus,” Janus said, slipping into, ‘charmed guest who doesn’t see anything wrong’ mode fast enough that it almost gave Remus whiplash.  “Sorry for the unexpected intrusion.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mom said.  “I just hope you’re alright with burgers for dinner.  We were planning on grilling.”

“That sounds lovely,” Janus said pleasantly.  “Do you need help?”

“Not at all.  We’ll call you when dinner is ready, alright?”

“Sounds great,” Janus said, and thankfully after that, she headed out to start dinner.

The shift in tone was immediate.  Janus’ gaze shifted to concern again, and Roman flopped back against Remus and buried his head in his hands.

“S’okay, Ro,” Remus said, hugging him to his chest.  “You’re okay.”

“Are you okay?” Janus asked.  “What was that?”

“She must have found out about the test I bombed,” Roman whispered.  “I can’t think of another reason she’d be angry at me.”

“You bombed a test?” Janus asked in surprise.

“He got an 87,” Remus said.  “But Mom and Dad are Mom and Dad.”

“She’s mad because you got an 87 percent?” Janus asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“It’s worse than my usual grades,” Roman muttered, sitting up and looking away.

“It’s— hang on,” Janus said, shifting to face them both more directly.  “Is this why you were making yourself sick trying to get all your work done?”

“Yep,” Remus said, as Roman crossed his arms and looked uncomfortable.

Janus took a deep breath, looking like he was trying to process all of this and only sort of succeeding.

“Okay,” he said finally, sounding very unhappy with the situation.  “How long have they been putting that kind of pressure on you?”

“What year is it?” Remus grumbled.

Janus didn’t seem to be a fan of that response, and Roman finally seemed to shake off his panic and turn to face Janus.

“Hey, I’m fine.  It’s just… Remus is more used to disappointing them than I am,” he said.  “It’s just new, so it’s kind of harder.  I’ll be okay.”

“That’s not— Roman, she called your name and you both froze,” Janus said.  “You shouldn’t be scared of your parents.  You…” he bit his lip.  “Would it be… safe for you to tell them they’re putting this much pressure on you?”

Remus snorted.  “Fuck if I know,” he said.  “I’d rather not risk it.”

Janus didn’t seem to like that answer either, but he didn’t say anything else on it.  Instead, he hesitantly brought up something that had happened in drama the other day, and the conversation shifted to that.  Thankfully, everything got a little more lighthearted in the time before Mom called up the steps for dinner, and they headed downstairs.

Their parents reacted to Janus about how Remus expected for someone they only knew as his friend and not Roman’s too.  All polite smiles, because priority one was guest, but an undercurrent of disapproval, because if he was Remus’ friend there had to be something wrong with him.

Remus wasn’t going to pretend it made his night, but if they knew he was Roman’s friend too Roman would be getting the exact same looks Remus was for not telling them a guest was coming for dinner.

Janus, thankfully, knew how to charm people.  His parents couldn’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him throughout the dinner.  He kept all the attention focused on him so neither of their parents could subtly glare at them, and casually invited Remus and Roman both over for dinner the following night in a way that seemed perfectly pleasant.

“Just to make up for my intrusion,” he said with an apologetic smile.

Remus found himself wondering by the end of dinner why Janus wasn’t acting alongside Roman.

But even though he seemed willing to keep it up, after dinner Janus got a call from his mother wondering why he was running so late.  So at that point, he really had to go, and Remus waved off the apologetic glances he sent the way of him and Roman with a “See you at school tomorrow.”

Kind of like Remus had been expecting, the second the door closed both of their parents turned disapproving eyes on them.

“Remus,” Mom said, putting her hands on her hips.  “Since when is it appropriate to invite people over without telling us first?”

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Remus muttered, kicking at the ground with his shoe.  “I thought he’d be gone by dinner.”

“Oh, so it’s okay because we wouldn’t have known about it?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus said, clenching his hands behind his back.

“That’s not even the biggest issue right now,” Dad said, stepping in.  “Roman, we looked at your grades, what is happening with you?  You’re not doing assignments, your grades are slipping, you got an 87 percent on that chemistry test?  You said you had it handled!”

“You looked at my grades?” Roman asked weakly.

“You weren’t telling us what they were, what other choice did we have?  Roman,” Dad said, stepping forward and crossing his arms.  “All we want is for you to do well.  What’s happening?  Is something distracting you?”

His gaze flicked over to Remus, lasting just long enough that they could all be sure of what he meant.

“Nothing’s distracting me,” Roman said.  He shoved his hands behind his back so his parents couldn’t see them shaking, but Remus was standing behind him.  “I— I’m really trying, I just can’t get everything done and still have enough time to sleep or relax.”

“Roman, school should be a priority,” Mom said.  “If you have to sacrifice a little free time to get things done—”

“It’s not a little free time, it’s all of it,” Remus cut in, stepping forward to try and draw the attention away from Roman.  “He doesn’t have any time to do things he wants unless he prioritizes.  He’s still passing his classes, he’s doing fine.”

“This does not concern you, young man,” Mom said, raising an eyebrow.  “And you do not have a good standard for what counts as an acceptable grade.”

“I have a B average,” Remus said, because it was a stupid thing to say but he was trying to be stupid enough to draw attention.

“Remus,” Dad said, narrowing his eyes.  “We are not talking about you right now.  We have more important things to worry about.”  He turned back to face Roman.  “It’s never acceptable to push schoolwork aside.  I think you need to give a serious look at what you’re valuing and how it’s going to affect your future.”

Remus could see Roman’s hands starting to shake more.  He definitely was not in the mental space to have this conversation, and his parents seemed unwilling to let Remus have it for him.  How else was he supposed to draw attention?

“He wasn’t sleeping,” Remus said weakly, though he could tell it didn’t really help when his parents just gave him a warning look and Roman was starting to look pale.

What was he supposed to do, he had to say something.  But what was supposed to draw their attention and keep it?

“Look,” Mom started.  “I understand not getting enough sleep sometimes can be difficult, but—”

“I’m aromantic!” Remus blurted, and three surprised gazes turned to face him.

“What?” Dad asked.

“I—”  Well, now Remus was starting to shake.  “Uh.  I’m aromantic?”

“What the hell are you on about now?” Mom asked, sighing in frustration.

Roman was staring at him, but he still looked terrified, so Remus supposed he was doing this now.

“I uh— remember when Roman was doing that queer history project?” Remus said, trying to get the weakness out of his voice.  “The one identity where you can’t fall in love?”

“Remus, don’t be ridiculous,” Mom said.  “Everyone falls in love.  This wasn’t even what you were talking about, why are you bringing this up?”

“Yeah, see, the thing is they don’t though,” Remus said, moving over more towards Roman and starting to inch them both slowly towards the steps.  “Some people don’t fall in love, because… well, there isn’t really a reason, but they don’t do it.  And I’m one of those people!  Never even had a crush.  Don’t think I ever will.  So aromantic kinda describes me pretty well, and I think that’s what I’m gonna identify as from now on!  Thanks for listening, so glad I got that off my chest, now if you’ll excuse us.”

At that point they’d reached the steps, and Remus turned and pushed Roman up them, hard enough that they could both start sprinting up the steps and towards their rooms, and ignore their parents calling after them.

“I’m calling Janus,” Remus said, grabbing his phone.  “We’re gonna stay with him for the night if he’s okay with it.”

“Why did you do that?” Roman asked, whacking Remus on the arm.  “That was a terrible idea!”

“Hey, it got us out of the room, didn’t it?”

“Re, you— don’t come out to Mom and Dad if you’re not ready just because I’m scared!” Roman exclaimed.

“Well, it’s a bit late for that,” Remus said, raising his arms in a shrug.  “I’m calling Janus.”

Roman stopped talking long enough for Remus to ask Janus to turn around and pick them up and for Janus to agree, after which Remus hung the phone up and realized their parents still hadn’t come upstairs.

Roman gave him a curious look, and Remus shrugged again.

After a second, Roman sighed.  “I really don’t like that you did that, Remus,” he said.

“It worked,” Remus pointed out, trying to ignore the way his stomach felt like it was curling in on itself.

“Don’t put yourself in danger for me,” Roman said, crossing his arms.  “I don’t ever want you to do that.”

“I didn’t put myself in danger, I came out to our parents,” Remus protested weakly.  “We’ve both done it before, for crying out loud!”

“That was different,” Roman said.

“How exactly was that different?”

“That isn’t… you’re not… you’re weren’t ashamed of it,” Roman said.  “You weren’t ashamed of being gay.”

Remus looked away.  “It’s fine,” he muttered.

“It’s not fine.  Remus—”

Roman was cut off by a car horn honking outside, and Remus moved over to his window to see Janus’ car out front.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Remus said, grabbing Roman’s arm and starting to pull him towards the door.  “Get ready to run past Mom and Dad.”

Roman did quiet down as they both headed out, but for some reason, when they went downstairs Mom and Dad weren’t there.  They ran out and climbed in Janus’ car without any issues, and then drove away from their house with no complaint.

“You guys okay?” Janus asked.

“We’re fine,” Remus said, before Roman could say anything.  “Just get us away so we can spend all night watching movies and avoiding our problems.”

“You got it,” Janus said, pulling away.  And that was the last time Remus wanted to think about his parents for the night.

…

Remus decided Janus’ parents won in everything ever, because they walked in on all of them curled up on the couch the next morning and promptly said they all got to take a mental health day.

As a result, they all slept long into the day, and woke up to eat some food.

Remus managed to text Virgil what was going on and ask him to tell Patton and Logan, and then they all curled up in the living room again.  They started another movie marathon, and made it through one movie before Janus decided he needed popcorn and headed into the other room to make some.

The second he was gone, Roman turned to Remus with an intensity Remus hadn’t been expecting.

“Okay,” he said.  “Now we need to talk.”

“Uh.  Do we?”

“Yes!  I don’t want you to do stuff like coming out for my sake, Remus.  That should have been something you did when you felt ready, if you ever did.  Don’t… don’t do that for me.”

“You were freaking out,” Remus said, looking away.  “I was just trying to help.”

“Did you forget the fact that we’re supposed to be in this together now?” Roman said, crossing his arms.  “It’s not solely your job to make my life easier, it’s our collective job to make each other’s lives easier.  And coming out when you’re not ready in order to draw attention off of me is the kind of thing that unfairly tips the balance.”  Roman leaned forward and knocked his forehead against Remus.’  “Let me protect you too, Re.”

Remus didn’t know what to say to that.  After a moment, he leaned back and shook his head.  “You don’t have to care about me,” he said quietly.

“Stop it,” Roman said, whacking Remus half-seriously on the arm.  “That’s not how this works anymore.  We both watch each other’s backs, okay?”

Remus considered that for a minute.  And apparently he considered it for too long, because eventually Roman asked, “Remus?” again, sounding more concerned.

Remus looked up at him.  “Do you think I’m the worst twin?” he asked.

Roman winced, and looked down.

“It’s okay if you do,” Remus said quietly.

“No, it’s not,” Roman said, looking up quickly.  “And I don’t.  But—” he looked away again.  “I… I did.  For a really long time.  And I didn’t start to see differently until you helped me.  Because I suck.”

“You wish,” Remus said on instinct, and to his surprise Roman laughed a little, though it might have been more due to his being emotional already.

Remus leaned his head against Roman’s shoulder.  “You don’t suck,” he said.  “Dummy.  I love you.”

“I do suck,” Roman mumbled, leaning against Remus too.  “I was awful to you because I felt shitty.”

“So was I,” Remus pointed out.  “We both had growing up to do.”

Roman sighed, but didn’t say anything to that.  “You’re not the worst twin, Remus,” he said instead.

“Virgil and Janus say there isn’t a worst twin,” Remus said.

Roman slumped down further against the couch.  “They’re wrong,” he mumbled.

Remus nudged at Roman until he sat up, and Roman turned to face him.

“You know Janus and Virgil also both have this thing about being nice to yourself,” Remus said.  “When I’m with them I’m not allowed to say mean things about myself or deny a compliment they give me.  And I’ve kind of started to try not being mean to myself even when I’m not with them.”

Roman looked skeptical.  “And that helps?”

Remus shrugged.  “It doesn’t hurt.  It feels really good when I can kind of believe it.”

“Yeah and how easy is that?” Roman muttered.

“It’s not.  But I think it might be worth it,” Remus said.  “Eventually.”

He reached over and squeezed Roman tightly.  “There’s not a worst twin, Roman,” he said.  “You’re not worse than me.”

Roman sniffed and squeezed Remus back.  “Fine,” he said.  “Then you’re not supposed to make bigger sacrifices to help me.”

Remus huffed.  “Touché,” he grumbled.

“I love you, Re,” Roman whispered.

“I love you too,” Remus said.

Roman sniffed again.  “I… I believe you,” he whispered finally.

Remus smiled a little at him.  “Good,” he said.  “Me too.”

They both sat there in silence for a long minute, until finally Janus called loudly from the kitchen.  “Wow, I’m so sorry guys, I forgot that popcorn totally takes almost fifteen minutes to make, especially when you’re standing on the far side of the kitchen and humming really loudly!”

“Thanks Janus,” Remus deadpanned.  “We’re done.”

“Cool, cause I have popcorn,” Janus said, appearing in the doorway to the living room holding three large tubs of it.

He moved over to sit with them and set them on the coffee table in front of them, then turned to give them a serious look.

“I’m not going to start a super in depth conversation right now,” Janus said.  “But I’m assuming your parents haven’t ever hit you, or done something you could be removed from their household for?”

Roman and Remus both shook their heads.

Janus sighed.  “Okay,” he said.  “Then for now I’ll just say you can always come here if you want to.  And my moms and I will work on something, okay?”

Remus smiled at him.  “Thanks, Janus,” he said quietly.  Roman didn’t say anything.

Janus just nodded at them both and turned to start the movie.

…

They both went back home after dinner, and though Remus had been expecting it, it still wasn’t easy to walk in the front door and see their parents waiting for them at the kitchen table.

Neither of them looked happy, though other than that Remus didn’t have a clue what they were going to say.

He and Roman stopped at the entryway, and Janus was waiting outside just in case, which their parents seemed to pick up on when they left the door open.

Mom sighed and moved forward, already looking like she didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Okay,” she said, stopping in front of them both as Dad came up behind her.  “Your father and I had a talk last night.”

Neither Remus or Roman said anything.  Roman was biting his lip.

After a second, Dad stepped forward.  “Alright,” he said.  “So I don’t think we realized how much pressure we were putting on you, Roman.  If you’re not getting enough sleep, it… might be okay to let a couple of these things go.”

Remus’ eyes widened slightly.  That was very much not what he expected to happen.  Roman seemed pretty shocked too.

“So here’s what we’ve decided,” Mom said.  “If you’re willing to work a little harder at get all of your grades back up to As, we won’t say anything about the rest.”

And serves Remus right for getting his hopes up.  He narrowed his eyes, and was about to step forward when Roman put a hand out to stop him.

“No,” he said, turning to face their parents again.  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

Remus blinked, somehow surprised for a second time.

“Roman,” Mom said, crossing her arms.  “We’re giving a little here, you have to meet us halfway.”

“This isn’t a halfway thing,” Roman said, clenching his hands into fists to hide the way they were starting to shake again.  “I’m not avoiding assignments for fun.  I’m not doing ones that don’t matter as much because I was miserable and making myself sick trying to get it all done.  I have a system worked out, and the grades I’m getting are the ones I’m getting under the new system.  I’m getting enough sleep and I have time to do stuff I want and time to do stuff with friends.  Those things are important too.”

“Roman, we’re not saying they’re not,” Dad said.  “But you’re a student, and school should be your priority.”

“It is,” Roman said.  “But I’m going to make myself a priority now too.”  He turned to face Remus.  “Come on.  I want to see the next part of your comic.”

And, without giving either of their parents a chance to say anything, he took Remus’ hand and pulled them both past them, then up the steps towards their rooms.

They ended up inside Remus,’ and the second Roman closed the door he collapsed back against it.

“Oh my god that was so scary,” he whisper-yelled into his hands.

“Holy shit, Ro,” Remus said, gaping at him.  “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I didn’t either,” Roman said, pushing his hands back through his hair.  “I…”  He buried his head in his hands and whined, then stood back up and started shaking his hands.

“Are you… okay?” Remus asked hesitantly.

“I will be,” Roman said, jumping up and down in place a couple times.  “I just need a minute to get my nerves out.  You should… you should text Janus, tell him he can go home.”

“Okay,” Remus said, pulling out his phone to do just that.  After Janus gave him a thumbs up and they heard a car driving away outside, Remus turned back to face Roman.

“Hey,” he said.  “You… I’m really proud of you,” he said.

Roman smiled at him, still shaking his hands.  “Thanks.  I think I’d be prouder of myself if I wasn’t so fucking terrified while I was doing it.”

“Are you kidding, that made it more badass!” Remus said, grinning at him.  “Ro, that was awesome!”

“Thanks,” Roman said again, starting to pace back and forth.  “Uh… pace with me?”

Remus laughed and joined Roman in the nerve-filled walk back and forth across the room.

It would take a little bit for him to get his nerves out, but that was okay.  Remus would be right with him the whole time.

…

Remus had kind of expected his parents to bring up the whole ‘coming out as aromantic’ thing eventually, but he’d figured it would have happened at dinner, the only time of day they were all really forced to be together.  Looking back, he wasn’t sure why he’d assumed that.  They had to have seen the way he and Roman were backing each other up now.  Why would they bring it up when Roman was around?

“Come in,” Remus called casually when there was a knock on his door, assuming it was Roman.

“Remus?” called Mom, and Remus looked up instantly, dropping his face into his usual neutral careless look he used when talking to his parents.

Both her and Dad walked into the room.  They looked concerned, but Remus had known them long enough to know that look was fake.

“What?” Remus asked, looking back down towards his comic, continuing what he was sketching before.

“We wanted to talk to you about thinking you’re aromantic,” Mom said, and Remus tensed.

“I don’t think it,” he grumbled, trying to keep his focus on his comic.  “I know it.  That’s why I told you.”

“Remus, we’re not denying that some people might be aromantic,” Dad said.  “But this just kind of came out of nowhere, and we didn’t get a chance to talk it through with you.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to talk through,” Remus said.  “And if you want more information, look at Roman’s queer history project.”

“We just want to know what made you think this,” Mom said.  “Before you’ve said you’re gay.”

“Still am,” Remus muttered, refusing to look up.

“So you have two sexualities,” Dad said, sounding skeptical.

“Sure, I guess so,” Remus said.  “Look, I don’t know much about this either.  Can you just do some research on your own?”

“You don’t know much about it?” Mom asked.  “You said you are it.”

“Did you have a point in coming in here?” Remus asked, finally looking up.  “Since when do you care about what I’m doing anyway?”

“Hey, watch your tone young man,” Mom said, crossing her arms.  “We’re trying to understand what you’re telling us.  It’s just new to us, so we’re trying to understand it.”

“I don’t know anything about it either,” Remus said.  “It’s new to me too.  I just know I’ve never had a crush, and that’s what the aromantic thing is apparently about, so that’s what I’m going with.  I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“What do you call Janus, then?” Dad asked, raising an eyebrow, and Remus went still.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He talked like you two were pretty close the other night, you’re telling me you two are just friends?”

“Yes,” Remus said firmly.  “Just— I want to talk about this another time.  I’m busy.”

“Hey, you don’t have to give us attitude,” Mom said.  “We’re just trying to understand what you’re telling us—”

“Remus, oh my gosh,” Roman said, rushing into the room and grabbing Remus off the bed.  “I need your help with something really important, it can’t wait a second longer!”

He pulled them both out towards his room, giving Remus just enough time to grab his sketchbook and follow him.

“Sorry,” Roman said once they got there, shutting and locking the door after them both.  “You just didn’t look super ready to have that conversation.”

“I wasn’t,” Remus muttered, moving to sit on Roman’s bed.  “Thanks for the save.”

Roman nodded, moving towards his desk.

“I’m ready for us to be able to have honest conversations with Mom and Dad that don’t end with us running away,” Remus said, resting his chin on his hand.

Roman gave a huff of laughter.  “Me too,” he said, giving Remus a weak smile.  “But for now we can sit in here.”

“Not objecting to that,” Remus said as Roman turned back around.  “Hey, you’re not doing homework, are you?”

“I’m writing,” Roman said.  “I have an idea I’m thinking about.”

“What’s the idea?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Uh, excuse you, don’t worry about it?” Remus asked, jumping up to go stand next to Roman’s shoulder.  “I think you’re underestimating my annoyance skills again.  What are you writing about Roman what are you writing about what are you writing about what are you writing—”

“Okay,” Roman said, shoving Remus’ head backwards.  “Enough.  I just didn’t think you’d be comfortable with it.”

“You didn’t think I’d be comfortable with something?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.  “I would’ve thought that’d be something you have to deal with more than me.”

“Yeah, I just… I’m writing about an aro person,” Roman said.

Oh.  Well then.

“I’m learning recently that they’re really underrepresented,” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “And that’s… I don’t like that.”

Remus bit his lip and turned to perch himself on top of Roman’s desk.  “Do you think they’re actually trying to understand?” he asked, glancing back towards his bedroom.

“I don’t know,” Roman said, following his gaze.  “Either way, you’re not ready to talk about it.  Which is fine.”

Remus sighed and pulled his feet up to rest them on Roman’s notebook, ignoring Roman wrinkling his nose at the action.  “I want to stop talking about it now,” he said.  “Cool story, though.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, clicking away to a new tab.  “Now watch this analysis of Shrek’s cultural impact with me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Remus said, hopping up again as Roman moved over towards the bed.

…

Roman said something to their parents that apparently got them to back off.  Remus wasn’t sure what it was.  He supposed he should just be grateful the two of them decided not to add ‘arophobia’ to the list of things that made them awful.

He hadn’t loved what they’d said about Janus, though.  It made him realize how close they were, and all the potential that was there for that to try to develop into something he didn’t want.  He loved Janus, he really did.  Just not like that.  Was he getting too close to him for normal friends?  Was Janus going to assume something?  Was he going to be mad about the way that Remus loved him, or want it to be something else?  Or worse, what if he already liked Remus… like that, and just assumed Remus liked him the same way?  What if he was going to confess soon, and then get mad when Remus didn’t love him the way he was supposed to?

Or… what if he could prevent that?  What if he just had to get over himself and tell him, and that would solve all of the problems?  Or what if he didn’t do it in time and everything went to shit and he lost Janus?  God, nothing could be worse than that.

So he had to tell him then.  Great, decided.  Now he just had to work up the courage to do it.  Janus was still coming over after school, but he could never seem to force the words out of his mouth.  He didn’t want to ruin their relationship and then have to watch Janus get up and storm out.  But how else could he do it?

It took him a few days to come up with a solution, and he still didn’t love it.  But he didn’t think he could reasonably force himself to do anything else, even if this particular one made him feel like a coward.

“Hey, Virgil?” Remus asked, setting his paintbrush down and turning to face him.  He’d waited until they were painting a part of the set in a back room so they could at least have some privacy.

“Yeah?” Virgil asked, turning to face him.  “What’s up?”

“Can I give you permission to tell Janus something for me as long as you promise to do it even if you hate me for it?”

“Woah, what?” Virgil asked, setting his own paintbrush down before turning towards him.  “What are you talking about?”

“I just… I think I need to clarify something so that Janus doesn’t assume things and hate me for them but I don’t want him to hate me because I tell him so I don’t think I can say it to his face.”

“Remus,” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes in concern.  “Why are you assuming Janus is going to hate you?”

“Well, because it’s weird, and I’m broken.  Wait, no,” Remus shook his head, stopping himself before Virgil scolded him for being self deprecating.  Besides, Roman had told him there was nothing wrong with it.  “I’m not… broken,” he amended.  “It’s just weird.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, sounding unsure.  “Shoot.”

“Um,” Remus said.  He swallowed and looked down at his hands, starting to fiddle with them.  “I’m kind of aromantic?”

“Wait, that’s it?” Virgil asked in surprise.

Remus looked up.  “What do you mean that’s it?”

“Well why do you think Janus is gonna care about that?” Virgil asked, sounding baffled.

“I— because I do,” Remus said, and Virgil’s face softened.

“Oh.  Is this new for you?” he asked.

“Really new,” Remus muttered, looking away.  “Just before I met you guys new.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Virgil said.  “But I really think you can ease your mind on that point.  Janus isn’t going to care if you’re aro.  And no one’s gonna think it’s weird.”

“How are you so sure?” Remus asked, crossing his arms.

“Uh…” Virgil rubbed the back of his neck.  “I really can’t say.”

Remus blinked.  “What?”

“Sorry.  I’ll get back to you on that.  But trust me when I say, Jan isn’t gonna care.”

“Uh.  Okay?” Remus said, not sure what to make of that.  He considered Virgil for another moment.  “Do you care?” he asked after a moment.

“Why would I care?” Virgil asked, looking confused.

“I mean, you’re dating Logan.”

“What, I’m dating someone, so I have to be super mad when someone I have no interest in dating doesn’t want to date anyone?” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I just kind of… I don’t like… talking about romance stuff.  It grosses me out.  And you’re dating someone,” Remus said.  “I just… isn’t it kind of unfair to ask you not to talk about him?”

“Remus,” Virgil said.  “How often do we talk about Logan when we’re together?”

“Uh…”

“Exactly.  Logan and I don’t like talking about our relationship in public anyway.  I don’t need to mention it.  I’m all good.  You want me to let Logan know too?”

Remus nodded.  “And you can explain about the aro part too.  If you really don’t care.”

“I don’t, and I’ll let him know,” Virgil said, picking up his paintbrush again.  “Was that all?”

“Can you still tell Janus for me?  Actually just… could you tell everyone?  Sorry, I know that’s a lot to ask, I just… I kind of want to not be asked about it and I don’t think I could actually make myself tell any of them.  It was really hard to just tell you.”

“Of course,” Virgil said, looking genuine.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Remus let out a breath and reached down to grab his paintbrush and go back to the set.  “Thanks, Virgil.”

Virgil smiled at him.  “Anytime.”

…

Janus never made any mention of Virgil telling him aside from coming up to him one morning at school, giving him a hug, and making a joke about how glad he was that he didn’t have to date him.  Remus laughed, set at ease in more ways than one.  And Logan just gave Remus a smile in science that afternoon and told him quietly that he was proud of him, and that stuff like this wasn’t easy.  Remus was more touched than he’d expected to be.  Thankfully Logan seemed to get that he didn’t want to talk about it and redirected the conversation towards what chemicals would cause explosions if mixed together.

After that, Remus assumed those interactions were finally going to be everything that happened relating to his identity for a long time, but to his surprise, after school, when he was about to go meet Janus so he could drive them all back home, he was approached by Patton of all people.

“Hi, Remus,” he said, and Remus glanced curiously over at him.  He liked Patton, but the two of them didn’t really click as easily as he had with Janus and Virgil.  He definitely couldn’t remember Patton ever approaching him.

“Can we talk for a minute?” Patton asked.

Remus stared at him.  “Sure?”

Patton led them both outside and over to the side of the school, where there weren’t any other people around, giving Remus just enough time to wonder if he had secretly been a serial killer all this time.

Patton turned to face him, clutching his hands in front of him.  “Virgil said you didn’t want to be asked anything about being aro,” Patton said, and Remus tensed.  “So I won’t ask.  I just wanted to tell you I’m proud of you.  And, well… I am too,” Patton said, smiling nervously and pushing his glasses up his nose.  “Aromantic, that is.”

Remus’ eyes widened.  “Wait, really?”

Patton nodded.  “Janus and Virgil know, but no one else does.  I… well, I kind of got outed when my Mom saw my phone, and she… didn’t take it well.  It makes it super hard to tell people.”

“Fuck,” Remus said, wincing.  “I’m sorry, Pat.”

“Language,” Patton said, smiling in a way to show that he was okay.  “And I’m alright.  It was a while ago, Mom’s better about it now.  It’s just… scary.”

“I get that,” Remus said, nodding.  “Sometimes it still feels like it’s something wrong with me.”

“It isn’t,” Patton said.  “But I also get feeling that way.  I really just wanted to say that if you ever want to talk about it, you can with me.”

“I…” Remus said, not knowing what to say to that.  He’d never even considered the idea that he’d find another person like him, much less already be friends with one.  “Uh, thanks Patton.”

Patton smiled at him, and after a second it faded slightly into something warmer.  “Wow, it’s uh, it’s nice to not be alone anymore.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, starting to grin, glad they were on the same wavelength.  “I didn’t think I’d ever actually… you know!”

Patton nodded, starting to grin back.  “I do know!” he said.  “This is so cool!”

“It is!” Remus said, starting to bounce slightly in place.  Patton did the same thing a second later, and then they were both just excitedly geeking out together.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice a second later, and Patton spun around as Remus spotted Janus over his shoulder.  He was grinning in a way that meant he knew exactly what they were talking about.

“I’m not trying to put a damper on your fun, but we probably should get going soon.  You want to come, Patton?”

“Sure,” Patton said, smiling at him.  “Where are we going?”

“Back to my house today,” Janus said.  “Roman and Remus are both staying over.”

“Slumber party!  I’ll let my mom know,” Patton said, pulling out his phone.

“Go ahead and invite Logan and Virgil too, it’d be fun,” Janus said.

“Hell yeah, let’s all hang out at your place on a Wednesday night,” Remus said.

“I’m glad we agree that it’s a tremendous idea,” Janus said, as they all started towards his car.

Remus was still grinning by the time they made it there, thinking this was probably one of the best days he’d had in a long time.  There were definitely plus sides to having people who loved and supported you.

/\/\

5 letters with address stamped on over another were in the mail. Virgil blinked at the pile ey'd been given. Beneath a few birthday cards from relatives and an official looking envelope, there were 5 almost identical letters with eir name stamped.

Curiously ey put the birthday cards to one side, looking between the letters and the official envelope for a few moments before deciding to open the official envelope first.

Dear Mr Virgil Stewart,

This is your notification of a soulmate connection that allows you to send letters to the other party connected to you.

The address to direct your letters to so they can be directed to your soulmate is below along with a list of rules and limitations to what will show in the letters you send. If the other person is older than you any letters they've already sent will have arrived alongside this letter and going forward will be sent straight to you after your name is added to the envelope.

Congratulations on your new soulmate.

Sincerely

Personal Connections Officer

Thomas

It took a moment after reading the letter for Virgil to understand what was happening. Ey had a 4th soulmate and a lot of letters to reply to apparently. Hopefully eir soulmate would understand that ey're younger than them so couldn't reply before now.

Dear Soulmate,

It's my fifteenth birthday and I can only assume that you are not yet fifteen given I received no other letters alongside the notification, so hello. If I'm wrong, then I must be offended that you haven't decided to reach out yet, but I'm well aware of how parents can be regarding soulmates. I hope you are able to reply soon though.

I'm not going to tell my parents about having a soulmate connection with you. It's nothing to do with hiding you and a lot to do with their attempts to interfere with the other connections I have that they know about. I hope you have multiple soulmate connections too. I know it isn't always guaranteed that we will share multiple soulmates but that does seem likely to be the path of fewest disputes.

We might have a few arguments anyway. I've been told plenty of times that I'm deliberately contradictory and overly sarcastic. Apparently that's a personality flaw, although I fail to see why. It merely means the times I mislead someone are often more obvious for people to see than when they themselves do so.

I can't write for much longer but I'll try to get at least one letter sent each week if you don't reply.

From Your Soulmate.

..

Dear Silent Penpal,

Apparently I need to be speaking up more in class to get the attention. Considering I have a few teachers who deliberately try to ignore me that will be difficult, especially since those are the teachers who have just told my parents I'm not speaking up. Why must the adults of the world do one thing but request we do another when they are the ones responsible for it in the first place?

I'm not sure what else to write to you today, but hope that when you begin replying that will be easier. I'll have something to respond to at least.

Until then, My Hand is in the Air

…

Dear My Darling,

I have visited an aquarium today. My parents were being insufferable and they constantly say I should be doing more with my days so I took myself out and decided the aquarium sounded wonderful.

Largely it was a chance to learn some more about the fishes and creatures of the sea, but the one in town also has a section for amphibians. I was hoping that the little frog I've had with me for years could be identified while going around it, but unfortunately, whether due to the incorporeal forms limitations, or simply lack of variety, I was unable to manage this. I do, of course, refer to a soulmate creature, rather than a living pet. Please do not suppose me an irresponsible pet owner who doesn't know the animal they look after due to ignorance.

I don't believe I told you before what the other soulmate connections I have are, but as I've just said, one is an animal, a small frog. The others are a timer counting down, which has a few years left until I meet them, and a ribbon. I've attempted to follow the ribbon numerous times since it formed when I was 13, but sadly am still bereft of meeting any of my soulmates.

Perhaps if we were all fish it would be easier to find each other and form our own little shoal, but then again, the ocean is a very large expanse.

Wistfully, Your Dreamer

…

Dear Stranger,

I wish you were old enough to write back to me. I wish I could find one of my other soulmates without waiting so long. I wish I could finally move out of this house.

Actually that last one will be coming true soon enough. I've been saving for years really. Distrust in my parents has only been growing since I turned 6 and had soulmates explained to me so the moment I understood living on my own would take money I began saving, taking on chores and since I turned 15 part time work when possible to be able to afford my own place. I think I'll have enough by the time I'm 17. Of course that's over a year away now, but it's soon. I have to believe it's soon.

I had an argument with my parents today. Somehow they've figured out I've been saving and are pressuring me to use my money to learn to drive as soon as I turn 16. I stand by that if they want me to do so, then they can pay for the lessons. It isn't like our family is struggling for money.

In fact, if I did know how to drive I'm fairly sure my mum would be trying to come with me every time I left the house, just in case I was going to follow the ribbon around my wrist. Getting away from them has to come first.

I hope wherever you are your family is more supportive of your independence, Dear.

I'll run to you one day,

Your Confidante

…

Dear Soulmate,

I've been thing of ways I could tell you enough for us to be able to meet up. We're told from the beginning that letters breaking the terms won't be sent, and while I've definitely tried, those were returned. My parents tried to read them and when they couldn't scolded me for writing swear words or sexually explicit letters to a school penpal which was frankly amusing to listen to.

I believe I should be able to describe areas and let them get through however. I mean the letter about the aquarium trip got through and that did describe an exhibit that seems relatively unique to my town. Most aquariums don't have an area for frogs and other amphibians, did you know?

Perhaps when you are able to reply you can try describing where you live, or landmarks near it so that we can learn how close or far apart we live.

Yours Scheming,

J

Virgil read each letter immediately after the one above it, smiling at the connection with eir soulmate actually being a way to get to know them. The latest seemed to be written fairly recently too, and ey could just imagine eir soulmate being frustrated to have the letters breaking the restrictions returned to them.

Ey wasn't certain about what to say, even with 5 letters to reply to, but ey would get something on the page.

Dear Soulmate,

I'm not sure that there is anything I'd call a landmark in this town. It's exhaustingly boring. The museum is cool, I guess. It has an Egyptian exhibit with a few actual mummy's in. I always think the entrance is trying to look like an old Roman building with its columns and the shaping of it.

Sorry you've had to wait for me. I'm writing this as soon as I've read all 5 of your letters on my 15th. I do have 3 other soulmates too. One of mine is a timer connection that's got a few years to go still, and another means I can't see purple or green any more. The last one is their name on my wrist which I assumed meant they were male, my mom thought they were female so I'm not sure of anything beyond their name.

I'd be terrified of hurting a soulmate animal. They do better if you look after them, right? It sounds difficult looking after a whole other being. Convincing myself to look after me is difficult enough.

Sorry again you had to wait for me,

Your soulmate

V

It wasn't the letter ey thought eir soulmate deserved but ey didn't want to write too much, not with eir first letter. Maybe when they know each other better ey can write more. Besides, at least now they both knew each others first initial.

/\/\

No matter how much J had described of their home town, or how much they convinced Virgil to describe neither of them were certain where the other lived, even after years of writing to each other and moving away from their parents. Virgil knew that J had their own place and was working and studying still, as well as that they had met their other soulmates already. In fact J had even met the soulmate of one of their other soulmates according to their last letter.

Ey was grateful to finally be able to share the same.

Hey J,

I met my neighbour yesterday and he'd one of my soulmates too! The name on my wrist actually.

We spent a wonderful evening together and I think you'd really like his intelligence. I was struggling to keep up with some of the rants he went on.

Plus he could keep up with my sarcasm and said it almost reminded him of one of his other soulmates too. I wish I was as lucky as you and he have been over finding my soulmates.

V

It was just a short note sent off on eir lunch break, and ey didn't entirely expect a reply.

Ey definitely didn't expect to get a note even shorter than eirs the next morning, delivered just before ey left for work which was unusual for eir postman to manage.

V, That sounds like one of mine who had a similar story. Might have found you. If so, see you tonight. J

Virgil wasn't sure if it was good or bad to be found by J because ey'd mentioned Logan, but if that was what had happened, ey couldn't wait to finish work that night.

/\/\

“Janus, I don't see why you were so insistent on coming over but now refuse to come in at all. If you wish to meet Virgil, I'm sure we can wait in my apartment until ey've arrived home and have relaxed for a while.” Ey could hear Logan saying while climbing the stairs, too impatient to wait for the lift.

“I just want to know if ey're mine too, Logan. You know the desire to find your soulmates, just as well as any of us do.” The voice replying was smooth, deliberately calm Virgil thought as ey hastened eir steps.

The pair must have heard em on the stairs then since they fell silent, already watching the stairs when Virgil reached eir floor. “Hello?” Ey asked, tentative, curious.

“Hello, I'm Janus, Are these letters you've written?” The stranger stepped forward, holding out familiar pages covered in eir handwriting.

Some part of Virgil wanted to wrap this oh so familiar and known stranger in a hug immediately, but ey instead just hugged the pages, nodding. “You found me.”

“Remus!” Thomas grabs the libero by his collar and picks him up like a drowned cat. “I apologize for my teammate. He gets a bit . . . overzealous at times. Remus, apologize.”

“Go to hell!” Remus says cheerfully, twisting around to try and lick Thomas’s arm. Thomas drops him in disgust, but Remus lands like a cat and rolls to his feet, bouncing away with a cackle.

“What was that all about?” Roman asks. Remus takes his bag back and slings it over his shoulder, looking up at his twin. “I thought we talked about causing trouble at tournaments - they’re going to kick you out, and we don’t have a backup libero anymore.”

“People were being assholes about Logan. You think I can just let that slide?” Remus bares his teeth, and Roman levels a glare at the opposing players.

“Oh, well in that case,” he mutters, pushing up his sleeves. Before either of them can respond, Logan reaches out and grips their shoulders.

“Please do not get into fights on my account.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re not going to get in them on your own account, are you?” Remus says. “You can pretend you don’t have feelings all you want, Logan, I know the shit they say bothers you.” Logan flinches, just barely, and Remus reaches up to pat at his shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore, Logan. You don’t have to fight these battles on your own. We’re not going to let them shit-talk you and get away with it.”

“I might not be as willing to fistfight people for your honor as my deviant brother over here, but I know for a fact that the whole team shares his sentiments. You’re not the person you were in that middle school tournament.” Roman places his hand over Logan’s, and Logan offers him a small smile.

“Are we fighting people?” Janus asks. “Remus, darling, you know we’re not supposed to do that in uniform. What if you get blood on it? I know you didn’t pack a spare, and I won’t have time to launder it before our game. Besides, you know better than to make threats where there are witnesses with recording equipment present.”

Remus slips out of Logan’s grip and bounces off towards the court, chattering idly to Janus and waving his hands around. Thomas turns back to them, setting a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“You okay?"

“I am adequate.”

“Not what he asked you,” Roman says, shoulder-checking Logan as they keep walking.

“I know what people say about me. I am aware of the toll my past behaviors took on my working relationships with my team. I am . . . working to be better than I was, but I am not sure I have made much progress.”

“You’re already loads better than you were,” Roman says. “You’ve got a great eye for tosses, and you’re learning to talk to the rest of us. We’re getting there. We are.”

Logan blinks, looking back and forth. “Where’s Virgil?”

“Probably in the bathroom, trying not to throw up.” Logan looks alarmed, which is to say that his eyes widen slightly. “Don’t worry, he usually doesn’t. He just has nerves that get the better of him, so he takes some alone time in the bathroom to calm himself down.”

Virgil rejoins them at the doors of the gymnasium, looking pale and faintly green. “You okay?” Thomas asks. Virgil nods, winding a stray lock of hair around his finger. “It’s gonna be alright. You’ve been working on that pinch serve for how long now?”

“Months, but it could still go wrong, it -”

“It won’t. You’re called a pinch server for a reason, Virgil. We bring you in when we’re in a pinch.”

“Which puts even more pressure on me to not mess up!”

“You will be fine,” Logan says. He turns around, peering at Virgil through his sports glasses. “I have faith in you. You are more than your serves - you are also an excellent blocker with swift reflexes. You are a multi-purpose tool, and I will utilize you to the best of my ability.”

Virgil stares at him, mouth slightly open, and Logan blinks, leaning back, eyebrows creasing. “Was - that an insensitive remark? I meant no disrespect.”

Virgil blinks at him, once, and then laughs, gently socking Logan in the arm. “Maybe other people would have found it insensitive, but I found it comforting. Thanks, Lo.” Logan crinkles his eyes and curves the corner of his mouth up, gently bonking his forehead against Virgil’s shoulder.

*~*~*~*~*

“I’m sorry!” Roman sprints across the court and pulls Janus to his feet. “I hit you in the face, are you alright?”

“I’ll never recover,” Janus says, rubbing his face. “Am I bleeding?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Still have all my teeth?”

“Yep.”

“Then I’ll be fine.”

“You really gotta get better at receives, Jan!” Remus laughs.

“And why would I do that when I have my darling libero looking out for me?” Remus grins, pleased, and Janus ruffles his hair fondly.

“Can you please not be gross with my brother right the fuck in front of me?”

Janus raises a single eyebrow at him before leaning down and very deliberately sliding his tongue into Remus’s mouth. “What the fuck, I officially retract my apology for hitting you in the face, I’m done, I’m leaving, goodbye -”

“That’s an . . . unusual warmup strategy,” the opposing captain tells Thomas.

“They’re unusual players,” Thomas says.

*~*~*~*~*

“Thomas, nice serve!”

Thomas spins the ball between his hands, takes a deep breath, tosses it in the air, slams it forward. “Damn it - straight to their libero!”

“It’s a quick from the left! Janus, that’s you -”

“On it!”

“Nice one-touch - pick it up!”

“Remus -”

“Got it!”

Logan turns, runs, leaps up into position, scans over the team. Where are the blockers - where are the spikers - what’s the position - who can he use - what can he do -

“Logan, to the ace!”

“Number two, number two!”

Roman jumps on the left, Janus on the right, and coming from the back row - the pipe, he can do it, where is Thomas, he’s running from the back, he’s in the air, twist lift and set -

Thomas slams it straight past the opposing blockers and hits cleanly. The referee blows her whistle, and the score changes. One point in their favor.

“Logan, I wanted a toss!” Roman complains. Logan squints at him - is he really upset? No, his eyes are crinkled like when he laughs at Remus’s stupid jokes, and he shows Logan a thumbs-up.

“You can have the next one,” Logan says.

“Telegraphing your next move so loudly? I guess the Ice King has lost his touch,” Number Eight calls. Remus begins snarling from the back row, but Logan turns a cool stare at his opponent.

“I have more than one weapon in my arsenal.”

Number Eight scoffs, but Logan just turns away. “Thomas,” he says. Thomas looks at him, and Logan lifts his hands, signing quickly. Setter-back-row. Aim-receive-9. Thomas nods, taking the volleyball again.

Remy touches Emile’s shoulder gently. When he turns to look, Remy nods at Logan and Thomas. “What is he saying?”

Emile turns more fully towards him. “Their setter is in the back row. He’s not allowed to move to the front row until after the serve, so there’s a moment of confusion where he has to run in front of someone. If you aim a serve correctly, there’s a delay, which can mess up even the strongest receiver.”

Sure enough, the setter darts in front of Number Nine, and the receive goes flying out of bounds.

“He really is something else, isn’t he?” Remy asks.

“Logan? Yeah, he’s got great analytical skills, and they’re fast to boot. His problem is communication, but this team . . . it’s not gonna let him get away with being silent for long.”

Thomas serves again, and they receive it more cleanly. The set goes up, the spike goes down, and Remus dives to catch it. “Nice receive!” Logan moves into position, his hands go up, Roman gets into position and jumps, the blockers move in front of him, and Logan shifts at the last second and dumps the ball right in front of the net.

Number Eight glares at him again. Logan stares back impassively. “Was that supposed to impress me, Ice King?"

“Was that supposed to intimidate me . . .” Is Logan supposed to insult him back? How would Remus insult him? He will never understand the art of trash talking someone. “For someone playing a team sport, you seem to be incredibly self-centered right now.”

Number Eight scoffs at him and turns away; Logan just blinks.

“Was he trying to insult me?” he asks Roman.

“Probably,” Roman says.

“Oh. Was I supposed to insult him back?”

Roman grins at him, sharp and bloodthirsty. “Let your tosses insult that pesky motherfucker. Don’t be afraid to rely on me to help you, hmm?”

Logan nods. “As you wish.”

Remus has to dive for the next receive, and it comes off-kilter. “Sorry!”

Nothing to apologize for, Logan thinks. You got the ball in the air. That’s all I need. 

Roman slams the ball past two blockers without even trying.

*~*~*~*~*

They take the first set narrowly, 25-20. Their opponents attack with a vengeance in the second set, and it isn’t long before the player-swap whistle blows and Virgil steps up to serve.

Logan hands him the ball; their fingers overlap. Virgil looks at him, and Logan looks back, crinkling his eyes. “You can do this,” he says, voice low. “They underestimate you the way they underestimate me. I can see it in their eyes. Show them why that is a mistake.”

Virgil blinks at him, taking the ball. “You got it, Lo.”

“What’s he gonna do?” Number Eight laughs. Logan returns to his front line position next to Janus.

“You know, you really run your mouth quite a bit for someone who has yet to show me anything truly impressive,” Janus drawls. Number Eight looks like he wants to flip him off, but before he can, Virgil serves.

“It’s out!”

Number Eight smirks, chin up, but Logan doesn’t look at him. He keeps watching the ball as it travels, travels, wavers, wobbles, and drops to the court, just within the line.

The opposing team turns to stare in shock as the whistle blows.

“Nice serve!” Remus and Roman yell, sprinting over to slap their hands against Virgil’s in victory.

“I knew all that practice was gonna pay off!”

“You’re amazing!”

“Guys, it’s just one point,” Virgil says, rubbing the back of his neck. His face has a pleased flush.

“It’s one more point than we had!” Remus says. “One point is the beginning - it’s all we need! Now go out and get us one more!”

Virgil serves, again and again, and racks up three more points before the opposing team figures out what to do with his jump float serve.

*~*~*~*~*

Not all blocks are equal, Janus thinks. The goal is not always to shut the ball down. Sometimes, a wall is not possible. 

Janus is not a tall middle blocker; he isn’t nearly as short as Remus is, but he’s only average height. He cannot shut down the opposing spikers the way that someone else might. He hears what people say when they see him take position.

How can he possibly be a middle blocker with that height?

Aim for the middle, he’s too short to make any difference!

Even if he jumps, he can’t stop you!

They are all fools.

Janus does not need to stop a ball to block effectively.

He jumps, and Number Six smirks at him, aiming right for him. Janus can see Remus moving behind him from the corner of his eye, and he smirks right back at Number Six.

I don’t have to stop your spike to shut you down. 

He shifts his fingers, and the ball bounces off of them. “A soft block?!” Number Six shouts. Janus hears the ball make contact with Remus’s forearms, and he’s running when he lands. By the time Logan’s hands are in the air, Janus is all the way at the other side of the net, and he swings his hand as though he’s going to slam the ball down. Number Six jumps in front of him, snarling, and Janus shifts to the tips of his fingers again and feints.

The ball drops to the court just behind Number Six, the referee’s whistle blows, and Janus lands. “Was the toss alright?” Logan asks, jogging over. “Do you need me to make any adjustments for you?” Janus notices the way his eyes widen, as though he’s afraid he’ll get yelled at, and he smiles. It’s genuine; despite the popular misconception, he is capable of those.

“It was wonderful,” he says. “Nice toss, Logan.”

Logan smiles up at him. “Nice feint!”

“Damn it!” Number Six shouts. Janus turns to him and smiles with all his teeth, no mirth behind it.

You underestimate me at your own peril.

*~*~*~*~*

Their opponents call a time-out, and Logan grabs his water bottle. Remus slaps him on the back before he has a chance to take a sip. “Logan!”

Logan turns, startled, and Remus grins up at him. “You’re on the back row when we go in, right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t run forward.”

“What?”

“Don’t move forward to set. Focus on getting the cleanest possible receive you can, okay? Just get it into the air.”

“If I receive, I cannot set,” Logan says. “I do not understand.”

Remus drops his grin, showing Logan his ‘I’m-being-serious’ hand sign. “I know you’re a genius setter, but trust me, Logan. My brother and I have a trick or two up our sleeves. It’ll be okay.”

Logan blinks at him. “I am unsure of this plan.” Remus just keeps watching him. “However . . . I trust you. I trust my team. If you say that you can handle it, then you can.” Remus grins at him, holding up his hands for a high ten. Logan tucks his bottle between his legs and high-tens him back.

Before they step back onto the court, Remus grabs Roman’s wrist. “Wh -”

“I told Logan to focus on receiving this next spike.” Roman turns to look at him.

“What the hell - why would you do that?”

“He’s all the way in the back row! And it must be tiring, setting all those balls one after another. Don’t you think it’s Wonder Twin time?” Roman’s expression changes from angry to joyous in an instant.

“You know what? You’re absolutely right.”

The serve comes in, and Logan shifts into a receiving stance. Remus and Roman make eye contact across the court, and Roman’s eyes flick to the left. Remus nods. Logan receives the ball cleanly. “Nice receive!”

“Their setter received it!” Number Two yells. “They’re limited!”

Not on my watch, motherfucker, Remus grins. He sprints forward, touches down right in front of the attack line, jumps, twists, and lifts his hands. Roman heads for the left, all three blockers surge up to meet him, and then he pivots and sprints to the center. Remus tosses, Roman jumps, and the ball slams down onto the opponent’s court.

Remus, who isn’t used to being in the air, lands on his ass, but he rolls to his feet quickly. “Take that, you son of a -”

“Remus!” Thomas snaps. Roman sprints back and gives him a high ten, grinning, and Logan looks at him.

“You can set?”

“I’m better at receiving, and I’m not really tall enough to play any position other than libero. But that doesn’t mean you’ve seen my whole bag of tricks! I can set in a pinch, as long as I jump from behind that attack line, but I really only practice setting for Roman, so I don’t do it for anyone else.”

Logan blinks, and then his face breaks out into a wide, unrestrained grin, one hand flapping rapidly at his side. “You’re so cool!” he bursts. “That’s amazing, that’s so so cool!”

Remus grins, flushing under the praise. “I know! I am amazing, aren’t I? Marvel at my power!”

“Don’t compliment him like you mean it, Logan, he’s gonna get a big head!” Roman scolds. Remus sticks his tongue out, and Logan laughs.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan lifts his hands to the back of his head, like he’s covering it against the serve. He shifts his fingers to signal: synchronized attack.

The serve goes up, clean receive, which means the most likely course is -

“Center attack!” Logan shouts. Number Three scoffs as his center straight comes down right against Remus’s waiting hands.

“It’s all yours, Logan!”

All four of them move in unison - Virgil, Janus, Roman, Thomas, all running forward in unison. Logan shifts, watches the confusion of the blockers, lifts his hands. The toss that will work the best, the toss that can score a point, the spiker who will carry the momentum of this match is -

“Watch out, it’s number 13!”

Virgil slams a cut shot across three blockers and scores without breaking a sweat. “Unlucky,” he smirks, fistbumping Janus.

*~*~*~*~*

The second set comes to a deuce, and they call a time out. “We need to gain a two-point lead to take this match, but don’t get so caught up in the idea of the next point that you miss the one in front of you. Keep your focus in the moment, not the future. Understand?”

“Yes!”

Logan tosses the ball into the air, jumps, and serves. As the other team receives, he grabs Roman’s shirt. “Roman, instead of a wall, try an umbrella!”

“What?”

Roman’s eyes widen in recognition as they jump to block the spike, deflecting it towards the back. “Remus!” Thomas shouts.

“I got it - it’s up!”

“Roman!” Logan shouts, turning to set.

“Thanks for the heads-up, Ice King!” Number Eight laughs. All three blockers converge on Roman, who jumps and bounces the ball off the block.

“What?!”

“A rebound?!”

“Remus, pick it up!” Roman shouts.

“I got it!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

Roman and Janus jump at the net, but Logan is already setting for the pipe. Thomas jumps from the back, slams the ball past the block, and scores.

“Nice kill!”

“You couldn’t use lingo that’s a little more clear next time?” Roman complains

“Why would I need to? You understood what I meant, didn’t you?”

Roman ruffles his hair, and Logan swats at his arm. “Hey, that hurts, don’t do that!” Roman just laughs and keeps going.

*~*~*~*~*

The rally has been going for almost two minutes now, the ball constantly in the air, and the exhaustion is setting in. They have the lead by one point, and they only need one more to take the match. “Come on, come on!”

“They’re gonna use the ace! Cover Number Three!”

Roman jumps, Logan’s hands go up, the blockers move to cover Roman, and Logan dumps the ball. Number Ten dives for it, but it drops to the ground right in front of him.

They take their second set, and the match, 26-24.

*~*~*~*~*

Patton tucks his manager notebook into his bag and starts handing out water bottles. “You were all amazing! Logan, I think that’s the most you’ve communicated in a match, and it really showed!”

Logan takes the water bottle, nodding. “It took me a while to learn how to communicate most effectively with my teammates. I was trying to carry the entire weight of the team on my shoulders as the setter. But I . . . am not the only one on my team thinking. I can give options, and trust that they will utilize those options effectively.”

“That’s right!” Remus crows, slapping his back. “We have brains too, Logan!”

“The rest of us, maybe. You? Debatable,” Virgil says. Remus immediately tackles him to the court.

“Are you trying to injure me?” Virgil shrieks. Roman rolls his eyes and sighs.

“I do not know how you put up with him on a regular basis, I truly do not,” Logan sighs.

“It’s a miracle I haven’t suffocated him in his sleep, it really is.”

*~*~*~*~*

The bus ride home is quiet. “I’m sorry,” Logan says.

Virgil passes him an earbud. “What do you mean?”

“I did not toss to you nearly as much as I have in previous and practice games when you were on the court.”

“No need to apologize for that, man. I wasn’t in as much as normal, and you utilized the rest of the team to the best of your ability. And we won, didn’t we? I’m not offended, I’m not gonna break up with you over it.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil tilts his head to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Take your post-tournament nap, Popsicle. We gotta build up our strength for tomorrow.”

A visit from a ghost is something one reads about, but typically doesn’t experience. Really, why would you, especially when you’re a side inside somebody’s mind? It wouldn’t make sense.

But there a ghost was, in Deceit’s room, smiling warmly at him. Or, rather, they weren’t a ghost. They were just somebody he thought was dead. Thought he’d never see again. A vanished fragment.

“Yes, I’m alive,” the fragment says, as if reading his mind, “nice to see you again, Deceit.”

“...Alive?” Echoes Deceit, unsure of how else to respond.

“Yup! As alive as the avatar after Azula shot him down!” the fragment laughs, “...you remember who I am, right?”

“...Emile Picani,” Deceit says slowly, forcing out each word. The words grate against his throat, painfully twisting before he forces them out.

“That’s me!” Emile grins, “and I have an offer for you...”

Logan leans against Virgil, a little miserable.

“It’s not fair,” he mutters, “I’m being punished for things I don’t even remember doing. This sucks.”

“I know,” Virgil says, almost gently, despite his own anxiety over it, “...I’m sure they’ll stop soon. They’ll forgive us.”

Logan snorts slightly, an odd sort of noise only Virgil really got to hear. “I don’t need to be Deceit to know you’re lying, Virgil.  You don’t believe that for a moment.”

Virgil groans, throwing his upper body down onto the pile of pillows they sat on. Logan jumps as he goes down too, which makes Virgil chuckle for a moment. And then with a sigh he resumes their less amusing conversation.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who knows stuff...I’m just scared that they’ll never forgive us, and we’ll be outcasts living in my room as to not run into anyone forever. Worse, the fragments are loose, and they’ll make things even worse! Think about what we did to them!”

Logan nods slightly, and they fall into silence, with Virgil holding Logan tightly, and Logan’s head against his chest.

“...I think we have to talk to them about it. And see what we can do to start making things better,” Logan says finally.

Virgil doesn’t reply, but Logan can feel his chest move slightly as Virgil does a slow, almost exaggerated nod.

Most of the fragments had returned to the corner of Thomas’ mind that typically housed them. Patton had figured they would. Living in the wrong part of the mind would likely feel uncomfortable for them, especially since Logan and Virgil were...here.

But Remy and Emile remained.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Patton assures them, serving pancakes for everyone. He kept aside some for Virgil and Logan, and made sure to give the fragments and Deceit extra. They needed it.

“Nah, I like being here,” Remy says, digging into the pancakes as if he’d never eaten before. “I like you guys. Plus Emile is sticking around.”

Patton doesn’t miss Deceit glancing at Emile, somewhere between wariness and warmth. An odd combination perhaps, but this was an odd situation.

“Why’s that?” Roman asks, pouring far too much maple syrup over his pancakes. “Oh, I mean, I’m happy that you are! I was just wondering-”

Emile laughs, shaking his head.

“It’s okay! Well, like how Baymax acted in order to help Hiro out, I plan to help Deceit out by assisting in using therapy to help his mental health!”

“Isn’t that against patient confidentiality?” Patton questions, sitting down to eat as well.

Slowly, Deceit speaks up - “I...said okay.”

Emile perks up at the speech and nods.

“It’s only against it if the patient doesn’t want it said,” he expands, “by the way, these pancakes are amazing! And they look as good as the food in Ghibli films do!”

“I’ve...never watched those,” Patton admits, a little embarrassed.

With that, chaos rules, with Roman, Emile and Remus shocked and indignant that someone amongst their midst hadn’t watched the films.

Remy doesn’t say anything, of course, just smirking as he watches them bicker over which film to introduce to Patton first. It was, of course, a big deal.

And then Deceit slowly speaks.

“I haven’t...seen any either.”

And immediately everyone pauses at the full sentence, before the bickering starts again, a bit gentler but still definite bickering.

“They should see Spirited Away!”

“No way, Princess Mononoke!”

“Look, it should obviously be My Neighbour Totoro-”

“Anything but Grave of the Fireflies-”

And that was the only thing they could actually agree on.

Patton and Remy notice Deceit smiling, wide and genuine.

The next few weeks passed wordlessly and Emile couldn’t stop his heart from sinking deeper and deeper, faster and faster, until there was no hope of it coming back to the light. Remy fazed in and out of relationships- none of them serious, but it broke Emile’s heart anyway. It was a rainy day in mid-April the next time they were alone together. There were alone together in what was lazily called a ‘Sun Room’ as the wind gently splashed their legs. Emile pulled his legs close to his chest in an effort to stay dry on the old wicker couch.

“So, Em,” Remy said, stretching out his arms in front of him. “Why haven’t you dated anyone this year?”

Emile shrugged, exhaling into his mug as he took a sip, hoping that the fog on his glasses would hide the panic in his eyes. “Haven’t been asked,” he said, “haven’t asked anyone else.”

“What about that guy from March?” Remy asked. “Oh, let me guess, he’s actually a total asshole and you’ve moved on.”

“Remus,” Emile said with a laugh, his words dying on his tongue, “no. He, uh, he’s not an asshole.”

Remy looked to Emile with a raised eyebrow and curiosity in his eyes. “Why don’t you ask him out, then?”

Emile kept his eyes on his knees. “The timing is never right.”

“Timing is a sorry excuse,” he teased. “Sometimes you have to take risks.”

If Emile were any braver, he would have made a move right then and there. He would have put down his mug, pulled Remy by the jacket, and he would have kissed him absolutely senseless. They’d break for air and Emile would spill out everything he had been hiding for the past two months. If he were lucky, Remy would have confessed that none of his past relationships worked because he was too hung up on Emile and no one else could ever suffice. However, Emile was not lucky, not brave, and failing to keep to the hem of his pants dry. He tucked his legs under his knees and took one final sip of his drink. “Can we change the subject, please?”

“Em,” Remy said quietly, trying to figuring out what he said wrong.

“Remus, please. Just change the subject.”

Remy turned his head away from Emile as his eyes grew focused on a dying porch light. “I’m gonna be single next Saturday.”

“You finally got bored with him?” Emile teased.

Remy was silent for a beat and now Emile was worried he had spoken out of turn. “Among other things, yeah. We just... didn’t click well. It’s just not gonna work out. Why delay the inevitable?”

“If the breakup is inevitable, why start the relationship in the first place?”

“Because it’s worth it to try,” he said, the air between them was cold and began to still. The storm was finally about to end. “Starting a relationship is, well, it’s a test of compatibility, I guess.”

“Roman always seems to say the opposite,” Emile said. “He says that... if you’re compatible as friends, and you both share the same feelings, a relationship is just... a change in boundaries.”

Remy let out a sign and chuckled. “That’s because Roman actually likes the guys he dates.”

Emile spent the rest of the night trying to figure out what that statement meant. He never got an answer. He tried to brush it off but it always stayed quizzically in the back of his mind.

“I am SO DONE with artists,” Remy announced, slamming his head against the old picnic table as he sat down. The group stayed in touch by taking turns organizing little get-togethers- usually a brunch, or dinner party when Logan was feeling particularly bold- and talking about life. Of course, they all had moments where they hung out as fractions and fragments of their group, but the get-togethers were tradition and none of them would trade them for the world.

“Excuse you,” Roman said with a rather offended gasp.

“Not you kind of artists but,” Remy fumbled with his hands as he tried to think of the words before just digging his hands through his hair, “UGH!”

“Tough breakup?” Virgil asked.

“Percy is such a picky asshole.”

“Remus-“

“Remy.” There was a beat of silence. “Only Em gets to call me ‘Remus’,” he muttered under his breath.

Logan cleared his throat. “Remy,” he said, “perhaps it would be best to take more time before entering these, uh, flings head first. I’d even go so far as to recommend advice from Roman.”

“Well that’s definitely a first,” Virgil teased, poking his boyfriend’s side.

“I’m not sure I’m equipped at the moment.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Roman sighed, keeping his eyes low on the ground. “I uh,” mumbled an embarrassed (but would never admit it) Roman, “I’m having problems trying to confess to my own crush.”

“Aww, Roman,” Patton said. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“He’d be a fool not to at least give you a chance,” Emile said with an encouraging smile. From the side of his eye, he could see Remy give him a glance that was nearly impossible to read through his dark sunglasses.

“Uh, yeah, you’ll do fine, Roman,” Remy said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Babes, I got an iced green tea that’s just calling my name from the nearest Starbucks.”

“Tired of us already?” Virgil teased.

Remy rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Without caffeine? Yes.”

Roman sighed, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he shook his head. “I doubt he’ll ever change.”

“You never know,” Virgil said with a shrug, his voice low as everyone looked to him. No one pressed him for an explanation. No one needed to.

It was a bit of a shock when, later that night, Emile had received a phone call from Roman rather out of the blue. “Hey, is it okay if I come over?” Roman asked before either had a chance to say hello.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Emile said. “I’m just cleaning some things up.”

“Perfect! Because I’m in your driveway.” Three beeps signaled that Roman had hung up already.

Emile sighed, putting his phone in his pocket and trying to speed-walk across the house to open the door. “Roman, is there ever a time when you’ll give me more than a five-minute warning before your arrival?”

“Emile, darling, would I be here on such short notice if it weren’t absolutely necessary?”

“Yes, Roman, yes you would be.”

Roman rolled his eyes and leaned his hip against the doorframe. “I need your help. Can I come in or not?”

“Yeah, come in, come in,” Emile said. “What did you need help with?”

“Patton,” Roman mumbled, falling dramatically across Emile’s couch.

“What about Patton?”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Oh wipe that smug little grin off of your face; you’ve been spending far too much time with Remy.”

“Answer the question, Roman.”

“He’s too wonderful!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “His smile could light all of Times Square! His freckles are tiny kisses that the sun has left upon his face! And his body-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Emile said. “Stop. Go to jail. Do not pass ‘Go’ and do not collect two hundred dollars.”

Roman smirked as he sat up. “Emile, my dear and wonderful friend, you must help me in winning over Patton’s affections! Wait- who the hell are you calling?”

“Virgil. I am definitely not equipped to help with this alone.”

A couple of phone calls, a few minutes of waiting, and one brewed pot of coffee later, Roman, Virgil, Remy, and Emile were all scheming on the living room floor with all the furniture pushed away towards the walls as they sit on a macrame rug.

“Hey, why don’t you just, I don’t fucking know, ask him in a date? Like a normal person?” Virgil asked. “With no fireworks or ostriches!”

“Oh, please, like that would ever work.”

Virgil’s face fell into his hands with a groan. “Of course it would work! It’s fucking Patton!”

“Exactly! And Patton deserves the absolute greatest and most spectacular extravaganza that anyone could ask for!”

“Holy shit,” Virgil groaned before retaliating with a more solid argument.

Remy nudged his shoulder against Emile’s and brought his lips dangerously close to Emile’s ear; his breath against the other’s neck caused Emile to fight back a chill. “Why don’t we make another pot of coffee and let these two settle their bitch fight?”

Emile silently nodded and let Remy lead him into the kitchen by the hand. He tightened his grip around Remy’s fingers as that feeling came back to him. His hopes were as high, higher, and highest as they could be, and his heart stayed warm through the ice of the deep, dark, blackened, and lifeless sea. He was being torn apart, and he needed wanted Remy to keep him stable in the middle ground. He wanted Remy to grab him by the tie and kiss him but, no, that would never happen. He needed to come back to reality. He hadn’t even noticed when Remy let go of his hand.

Remy hoisted himself onto the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. Roman and Virgil’s bickering had become muffled background noise, but it showed no sign of stopping. “It’s always a party with those two, huh?”

Emile forced out an awkward laugh. “It is, isn’t it?”

“If you ask me,” Remy said, “Roman doesn’t even need some extravagant speech. Just catch him alone under the moonlight and kiss him senseless, ya know?”

“Maybe if this were a fanfic,” Emile teased. “But this is real life. You can’t just kiss people without asking.”

“Fair point.”

The bickering had quieted down and, for a few moments, everything was completely silent. Remy and Emile were caught staring in each other’s eyes. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Seconds felt like minutes felt like hours felt like years. It was late April.

“We should, uh, we should check on the others.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

It was the middle of May. Roman was having the gang- and a few other friends- over for an End of Spring Pool Party. Roman had promised to tell Patton how he felt before the end of the night. Virgil had bet Remy five bucks that he would bail.

Emile has never been one for swimming- at least not around strangers- so he had confessed that he’d be content to sit by the pool and watch. It was perhaps the most casual any of them had seen him- khaki shorts with a flowery button down and a regular pair of brown boat shoes.

“Wow, Em, you dress down nice,” Remy said with a wink. There were a few hours to sunset. Really, the party was only starting.

“Thank you, Remus,” Emile said with a smile and flushed cheeks.

“Quit flirting and ask Roman where he keeps the spare firewood!” Virgil yelled from the other end of the pool, poking at an unlit fireplace.

“Keep flirting, I’ll talk to Roman,” Logan teased as he passed by them and Emile was sure that his blush would give him away as he looked only to the ground. If he were to look up he would have noticed Remy looking to the sky with a face that was red from embarrassment.

“I should, uh, probably go get changed,” Remy said, patting a drawstring bag on his side. “Keep an eye on Roman while I’m gone. I’m really looking forward to those five bucks that Virge is gonna owe me.”

“Whatever you say, Remus,” Emile said with a laugh. He looked towards the sun as Remy headed inside. The orange sky had melted into pinks, purples, blues, and a lightless black littered with stars before his very eyes. The party was loud and alive with music blasting, conversation from everywhere in the yard, and any type of outdoor lighting that Roman could buy for under five dollars a piece. Emile was content to sip on fruit punch and watch from a distance.

“Hey, Emile,” Virgil said, swimming up to the side of the pool. “Have you seen Logan?”

“I think he went inside to go get some snacks.”

“Damnit, would you wind going inside and getting him for me? I need him to help me kick Seth and Toby’s asses in a chicken fight.”

“Sure thing!” Emile said. He put his drink down on the table next to him before snaking his way through crowds of people. As he got closer to the kitchen he felt himself gasping for air. He didn’t even know these many people could fit in one house!

“Em!” Remy whispered, gesturing for Emile to come closer. “You gotta see this.”

The two peaked behind a wall that leads to the dining room, where Roman had Patton pinned against the dining room table as they both kissed roughly as if nothing else mattered. “Eww,” Emile said under his breath as he turned away from the wall to give them their privacy, as well as to try to remove the image from his brain. 

“I know right?” Remy laughed as he snapped a picture and texted it to whom Emile could only assume was Virgil. “I can’t wait to get those five bucks.”

It was the first real look that Emile had gotten of Remy that night. His sunglasses were pushed on top of his head, holding back his hair, and he still wore his black jacket (open) over his bare chest. With his plain black swim trunks, it all somehow looked like an actual outfit, as ridiculous as that sounds. “I should probably find Logan,” Emile admitted. “Virgil sent me in here to find him.”

“That nerd? I sent him out a bit ago to go entertain his boyfriend. I’m sure they’ve found each other already.”

Emile let out a relieved sigh and smiled at Remy. “Thanks then.”

“Anything for you, Em,” he replied with a wink. Emile was lost beyond belief but he finally felt stable, level, and found all at once. “Why don’t we go get some fresh air?”

“I’d like that,” Emile confessed, lightly wrapping his fingers around Remy’s. They walked to the pool deck together, taking in the cool spring air and enjoying the laughter of their friends and acquaintances. Emile had let go of Remy’s hand in preparation to retrieve the drink that he had previously left unattended. However, with the dim lights and his lack of focus, it was rather impossible for Emile to see the upcoming events to unfold in front of him. He lost his footing as he walked closer to the pool. He slipped, falling backwards in what would play in his memories as slow motion.

“EMILE!” Remy yelled as he quickly threw off his jacket and sunglasses, diving into the pool after him. He wrapped an arm around Emile and swam to the surface, the older of the two coughing and spitting up pool water.

“Remus, you,-”

“Shh, you’re okay,” Remy said.

“My glasses,” Emile mumbled, his voice too strained and weak to properly talk. “I need my glasses.”

“Can you keep yourself afloat while I get them for you?” Emile bit his lip and nodded, kicking his legs back and forth as Remy let go of him. Remy’s vision swept across the pool floor until he saw the tortoiseshell frames laying a few feet away. He took a big gulp of air before diving down towards them, opening his eyes once he was beneath the surface.

His vision was foggy under the chlorine and his eyes felt instantly weaker. The glasses now looked more like a brown blob and he tried to grab them as quickly as bubbles of his own air tickled his face. He grabbed one of the sides of the frame and swam to the surface just before running out of air. “Guess you really leave me breathless, huh?” Remy teased as he swam up to Emile, who was sitting on the concrete by the side of the pool, soaking wet and looking lost. Remy pulled himself up and carefully slid the glasses onto Emile’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Remus, you saved me,” Emile mumbled.

“Oh, I, uh, anyone else would have done the same thing. I just, you know, did it first.”

“Well, thank you,” Emile said with a gentle smile that took Remy’s breath away.

“We should get you over to the fire. You’ll dry off a lot faster.” He was able to grab his towel and wrap it around Emile’s shoulders as they walked towards the fire, though with Emile’s blush, the elder was sure that he’d be dry way before they even came near the fireplace.

It was a cool night in May and no one else mattered. The warmth and light of the crackling fire felt wonderful against cold and soaking skin. Remy sat back against the bench, his knee and thigh resting against Emile’s.

“So,” Emile said quietly, “you’ve been single since April. Must be a new record.”

“Heh, uh, yeah,” Remy said through a forced laugh. “I finally took some advice from Roman.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I decided that I actually want to like the guy I date.” His words were spoken carefully and backed by tension, but his body relaxed, letting his arms and shoulders fall against Emile. “And I uh, really like this guy. Guess the next step is to date him.”

“He must be a lucky guy,” Emile said.

“I’d consider myself the lucky one,” Remy said, his words slow and barely above a whisper, “if you’ll have me.”

Emile turned towards Remy, gazing at him silently with awestruck eyes. He placed his hands on Remy’s face and neck, pulling him forwards and locking their lips in the middle. It was soft and sweet as Remy melted into it. He pulled Emile closer by the hips and began to kiss more roughly, devouring the other as if he needed him the way someone atop Mount Everest needs oxygen.  

They broke apart to the sound of Virgil wolf whistling. He laughed as Roman grumpily handed him crumpled up dollar bills, before handing half of them over to Remy. “Luck be a lady tonight,” Virgil yelled, pocketing the rest of the money.

“Yeah, well I still won the bet on Roman!” Remy retaliated, unsure of how to react with all of their friends watching them.

“Which was exactly why I charged Roman extra on the bet on you,” Virgil said with a smirk. “I had my doubts on him ‘fessing up, but you two? It had to happen sooner or later.”

“Girl, you are the worst,” Remy said with a glare.

“So I’ve been told,” Virgil said with a smirk.

Remy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we can do this with or without an audience.” Without a second of hesitation, he took Emile’s jaw in his hand and pulled him forward, resuming their previous kiss.

***

“I don’t understand why you and the King have to be married.” Dorothy sighed, leaning into the hand running through her hair. “Like, I do, but I don’t.”

Esmeralda shrugged, carefully avoiding Dorothy’s horns as she stroked. “Duty, I suppose. Or tradition. Our parents selected us for each other at birth, just as they were for each other, and their parents before them. It’s just the way these things work.”

“But you don’t love him?”

Esmeralda smiled and placed a kiss between Dorothy’s furrowed eyebrows. They smoothed out and the witch relaxed minisculely.“How could I fall in love with a king, when there is such beauty offered to me?” She whispered. “The King looks like a musty old tapestry, when my love is a beauty carved from marble, a testament to strength and form, modeled after a goddess herself.”

Dorothy’s face flushed green. “Alright, alright! I’ll stop being jealous! Goodness, you and your way with words are going to slay me one day!”

Dorothy rose and turned to put their lips together, feeling Esmeralda smile into the kiss. She withdrew partially, enough to look into her love’s eyes.“I can not think of a better way to die.”

Esmeralda recaptured her lips. After a few more breathtaking moments, they pulled away again, and she enjoyed the sight of her lover’s slitted pupils blown wide with love. 

“Run away with me?” Dorothy breathed.

Esmeralda smiled. “Perhaps one day.”

***

“I’m pregnant.”

The words dropped through the air like a stone, pitching the cool August air into a freezing temperature that left gooseflesh on Dorothy’s skin. Her head shook almost before she was aware of it.

“You- you can’t be…”

Esmeralda winced and placed a hand over her stomach. “I… I have been showing signs for a while, but the king ordered over a physician this morning. He confirmed it. The news will spread soon, but I… I wanted to tell you myself.”

Dorothy swallowed hard, trying to wrap her head around the information. “But… I- He didn’t force you, did he?”

Esmeralda blinked once, before shaking her head. “No! No, of course not. We agreed to try until an heir was produced. The king and I do not need each other for pleasure.”

Dorothy nodded shakily. “Well… what does it matter then? Can- Can’t we still see one another? This changes nothing but a mere nine months, Ezzy.” She crossed to her love and took her hands, gently kissing each finger before continuing. “All this means is that your duties have expanded. There will be someone else vying for your attention, but in this case I don’t care. Your child will be my child, my love. I do not care who sired them. I love you, and my love can expand.”

Esmeralda bit her lip and extracted her hands from Dorothy’s grasp.

“I can’t.”

Dorothy blinked. “What?”

“I- I can’t do that.” Esmeralda looked at the ground, eyes filling with tears. “It’s a small miracle that I got away tonight, over time my movements will only become more and more watched until the child is born. And after…” She shook her head forcefully. “I will not leave that… that swine to raise my child by himself. Who knows what thoughts he will put in their head? Being there for them means that I must give up my own desires, however much I wish it didn’t.”

Dorothy felt as though ice had been poured down her back. “You didn’t just come to tell me you’re pregnant, did you?”

Esmeralda took in a shaking breath and shook her head. “No. I… I came to see you for one last time. To tell you I love you. And goodbye.”

“Liar!” Dorothy hissed. “Love finds its way around such tangled messes, is it not you yourself who told me that?”

Esmeralda reached for Dorothy’s face, only to have her hand knocked away. Tears spilled over her cheeks.

“I did.” She said mournfully. “But I can’t do anything else! I cannot leave my child with that man, and I cannot leave my kingdom without an heir! I must place duty before desire, but never- never, make the mistake of thinking that means I don’t love you!”

Dorothy softened, her expression growing mournful. She cupped Esmeralda’s face with her hands and wiped away a tear. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, my love.” Dorothy whispered. “It is I who should apologize, I had no reason to yell like that.”

Esmeralda sniffled and wrapped her arms around Dorothy, burying her face in her beloved’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you fervently.” She whispered. “Not a day shall pass without me wanting you at my side.”

“And I you,” Dorothy said.

She ran a hand through Esmeralda’s hair, fingers knocking against the crown atop her head. She bitterly thought of how poetic it was that the crown should block her so.

“I promise you this, though,” She said. “Your child will always have a home with me, should they need one.”

Esmeralda squeezed her tightly before bringing her in for one last kiss. A thank you. A declaration of love, both past and present. A goodbye. 

***

Nine and a half months later, news spread that the queen had given birth. Nine and a half months later, news spread that the queen had had twins. Nine and a half months later, news spread that the queen had died in childbirth. Nine and a half months later, Dorothy snuck into the castle and stole the oldest twin from where he lay. 

Nine and a half months later, the dragon witch took the child that was rightfully hers and stole him away from the world. Ten months later, news spread that the elder twin had followed his mother to the grave. 

Thirty years and nine and a half months later, Prince Roman closed his mother’s diary, having read her confessions aloud to the twin brother he didn’t know had survived. 

Thomas felt a numb sort of shock, staring at the leather bound book. He’d known his mo- the dragon witch was lying whenever she talked about his family, but he never thought it was quite so personal.

“Well,” Roman sighed. “That was certainly… something.”

Thomas reached over and ran a trembling finger over the diary’s spine. “Where did you even find this? I mean, if it was just in the library or something, someone would have found it before. You would have known…”

Roman shrugged. “When the wi- your mother landed on that tower it revealed a secret chamber, which led to a secret tunnel. It’s probably how she got out so often to meet Dorothy.”

Thomas nodded absently. “Right. ...Who’d’a thunk, huh? Me, a prince.”

Roman’s eyes softened and he gently grasped Thomas’ hand. “A brother.” He corrected. “Family, first and foremost. Especially since my- our- the king was in that tower as well. We’re all we have now.”

Thomas ran his free hand down his face. “Oh my goodness gracious.”

“You okay?” 

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it’s just a lot to take in, is all. I mean, just last night my best friend was a frog and my mother was a dragon. Now- and it’s not even three o’clock yet!- I find out that I’m some kind of long lost prince whose mother was in love with a dragon witch, who, in turn, sought revenge of some kind and decided to steal me?” His voice got higher and higher as he spoke. “It’s just… a lot.”He put his head on the table and groaned. “One of those things I maybe could have handled, but together? Would it be too much to ask for something normal to happen in our family?”

Roman snorted. “I mean, everytime I try to make things normal, something happens to uproot all my progress. But if you need to, I’ll understand if you screech dramatically.”

Thomas groaned instead. He lifted his head and faced Roman, biting his lip.

“So I guess the million dollar question is… what now?” He asked.

Roman sighed heavily, eyes landing on their mother’s diary before turning back to Thomas. 

“In technicality, you were born first,” He said carefully. “By all rights that makes you the heir to the throne.”

Thomas’ eyes widened and he started to shake his head when Roman held up a hand. His twin gave him a bemused look.

“However,” He continued. “Seeing as you were only found yesterday, you have no training or any reasoning for being king beyond birthright. Meaning that we’ll have to sign documents stating that you revoke it and pass it along to me, marking me as the Crown Prince, and you as simply a prince. You can still live here, if you wish, or you can go where you please, but the palace will always be open to you.” Roman sighed.“That’s all politics, though.” He said, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what has to happen on paper, according to someone who died a hundred generations ago. On a personal and more selfish level? I’d like to get to know my brother. I won’t force you to stay if you don’t want, but…”

Thomas nodded with a small smile. “I get it. I thought it was just me, too. Well, me and my mother.”

“Me and my father.” Roman mused. “We’re all just broken people in the end, aren’t we? Trying to find new ways to stitch ourselves back together.”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “If you’re going to try speaking poetically like that all the time, maybe I should go somewhere else.”

Roman barked out a laugh. “Too late! No take backs!”

“Well I never actually said it.”

“Ah, but you implied it! That’s close enough!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

Roman blinked. “Wait.”

Thomas laughed. “Gotcha!”

Roman scowled playfully and stuck his tongue out at Thomas. “Well fine then! I guess I don’t want you around here anyway, if you’re going to act like that!”

Thomas chuckled and grabbed their mother’s diary, flipping through it casually, as if the words hadn’t turned his whole world upside down. “Probably just as well. I don’t think I’m much of a ‘Paris’ anyway.”

“Oh you think that’s bad?” Roman asked with a wolfish grin. “My full name is fifteen words long. I’ll bet yours is just as bad.”

Thomas’ face paled. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes!” Roman crowed. “Roman Christopher Windermere Valdimir Carl Alexander Francois Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James! All we have to do is find the royal lineage for yours.”

“Roman no!” 

Roman sprinted away from the table, heading towards a far-off shelf. Thomas gave chase as best he could, but it was clear he wasn’t as athletic as his twin brother. Roman easily left him in the dust, cackling. 

“Roman yes!”

When  Thomas finally caught up to him, Roman was flipping through a thick book mounted on a pedestal. He half-heartedly tried to tug him away but truth be told he was a little curious himself.

“Here it is!” Roman exclaimed. “Queen Esmeralda Isabel Marie Louise Contessa Elizabeth James gave birth to twins Roman Christopher Windermere Valdimir Carl Alexander Francois Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James and his elder brother Paris Everest Humphrey Clement Robin Nicholas Samson Melvis Stephen Ellis Harold James!” Roman howled with laughter. “Oh my- that’s even worse!”

Thomas frowned, running a hand over the names. “Yeah, well at least mine has actual names in it. Have you ever met anyone named ‘Windermere?’”

“No,” Roman admitted. “But I’ve never met a ‘Melvis’ either.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Well then it’s a good thing my name is just Thomas, huh?”

“Not on legal documents!” Roman taunted playfully. “The law will always recognize you as Paris Everest Humphrey Clement James!”

Thomas poked Roman in the side. “Whatever. I don’t need another identity crisis today.”

Roman’s laughter faded a little and he tugged Thomas into a tentative side hug. 

“Well, lucky you’ve got me to help you through this one, huh?” He asked, a tinge of hope audible in his voice.

Thomas smiled and wrapped his arms around Roman, pulling him into a proper hug.“Yeah. And probably the next one too.”

***

“You should have said something,” Patton scolded lightly. “We were worried half out of our minds over you.”

Remy shrugged. “Sorry?”

“Stop saying that,” Logan said with an eye roll. “The apology you gave us earlier was more than sufficient. What we need now is an explanation for why you didn’t tell Patton you were the frog Thomas brought in.”

Remy shrugged again, looking at the nearby roses instead of either of his brothers. “Dunno. Guess I didn’t think you two would want to see me after everything that went down.”

“Of course we’d want to see you,” Patton said. “Especially if you were in trouble. We love you, Remy. And we forgive you.”Patton gave him a small hug. 

Remy pat his hand a little, but shrugged out of it. “Not sure if I deserve that yet, but thanks.”

“No one does.” Logan said, pulling Remy’s attention back to his hands. “It isn’t a question of whether or not someone deserves forgiveness, but whether they can work towards earning it after they receive it that determines their worth. We have offered you our forgiveness, if you truly feel remorseful, then it is your responsibility to be someone who you feel deserves it.”

Remy let out a small laugh. “See, this is why I need you guys. You’re big smart brains make up for all my dumb stuff.”

“You’re not dumb, Remy.” Patton said. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remy said, waving a hand. “Still, I’m glad we worked all this out, or whatever.”

“Me too.” Logan said.

“Me three.” Patton smiled a little. “I hope you stick around, too. I know how awful that house can be, I can’t imagine what it must be like with just you and Damon there.”

Remy frowned. “It’s pretty awful, tbh. But I don’t think I’ll be going back. Don’t know if that means I’m staying, either, though.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

At that moment, Roman and Thomas walked into the garden clearing. They were laughing at something, the sight borderline breathtaking. Sometime between all the heavy talk Thomas had gotten a haircut, the usual purple color fading to something between lilac and chocolate brown. It still hung in his face, bangs as intent on tickling his nose as they’d ever been, but the new look suited him. He looked less like a sheltered shut-in and more like Thomas. 

“Ah,” Patton said, eyes glittering playfully. “I see.”

“You don’t see nothing.” Remy said. “Now excuse me, I’ve got a prince to woo.”

He left his smirking brothers and walked over to Thomas. He bowed jokingly, and Thomas groaned.

“Not you too,” He said. “It’s bad enough that everyone else is bowing to me.”

“Can’t help it!” Remy said, springing back up. “I see a man this gorgeous and I have to let him know he’s top dog, dawg.”

Prince Roman chuckled a little. “I’ll leave you two be. Thomas, can we talk more later?”

Thomas nodded. “Sure. We’ve got a lifetime to catch up on,” He grinned.

Roman smiled and went to join Patton and Logan at the gazebo. Leaving Remy and Thomas by themselves. Remy smirked and twined Thomas’ hand with his. 

“So,” He said. “Seems like you’re not such a shut-in after all. A bonafide prince.”

Thomas snorted. “I think I’m both, honestly. I feel more like a shut-in than royalty.”

Remy kissed Thomas’ temple. “Well that’s what I’m here for. I’ll give you lessons, if you want ‘em. And if you don’t I’ll just punch anyone who makes snide comments.” 

Thomas laughed. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I appreciate the thought, though. froggy.”

Remy threw up his hands. “OMG! You turn into a frog for a few days and suddenly no one wants you to live it down! I mean honestly, you get cursed once and everyone gives you crap over it!”

Thomas giggled and wrapped Remy in a tight hug. “Well get used to it, sucker, cause I’m gonna be giving you crap for the rest of our lives.”

Remy softened and returned the hug. “Okay, fine. But only if I can give you crap, too.”

“Nope, sorry.” Thomas hummed. “Not allowed. It’s illegal to give the prince crap.”

“Wow.” Remy deadpanned. “Double standard much, sweetie? Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you?”

Thomas shook his head, burrowing deeper into Remy’s chest. “Just be here. That’s all. Don’t ever scare me like that again and we’ll call it even.”

Remy huffed. “No promises, babe.”

Thomas frowned and looked up at him. Remy rolled his eyes and relented.“Okay, okay! I promise I won’t die again. That work?”

“Sounds perfect.” Thomas said, snuggling back into Remy.

Remy smiled and put his head on top of Thomas’. The two stood there a moment, gently swaying in the warm breeze. 

“So what’s the plan?” Remy asked softly. “Are we gonna stay here or open up that tea shop?”

“I don’t think princes can open tea shops.” Thomas muttered. 

“Eh, who says?” Remy shrugged. “‘Sides, it’s not like I’ve let rules like that stop me before.”

“True.” Thomas laughed. “Though you’d think being turned into a rat would teach you to keep your nose in your own business.”

“It only made me stronger,” Remy said seriously, before dissolving into laughter a moment later. “Nah. But seriously Thomathy... we got a plan?”

Thomas thought for a moment, and Remy followed his gaze to Roman. The prince was happily pushing his husband on a nearby swing, Patton’s face brighter and happier than Remy could ever remember seeing it. Logan stood nearby, content to watch them. Remy and Thomas looked on as Logan’s fairy boyfriend melted out of the bushes and wrapped Logan in a hug. Even from where they were, Remy could see Logan scolding his boyfriend for being out of bed when he’d been told to rest. 

“I think I want to stay,” Thomas whispered. “My mother’s gone now. And even when she was here, she wasn’t much of a family. I think I wanna stay and give brotherhood a shot.”

“Right there with you, boo.” Remy said. “Glad we’re on the same page, here, I’d hate to have our first fight so early in the relationship.”

Thomas snorted and looked back at Remy. “It would not be our first fight. And who says we’re in a relationship?”

Remy clutched at his heart and gasped. “If you don’t recall, I made a very moving declaration of love on my deathbed! And since then, you’ve kissed me a grand total of three times! If we’re not in a relationship, then I want a refund, honey.” 

Thomas grinned. “Alright, alright. ...Wanna make it a grand total of four times?”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Hon, you’re about as smooth as water on a stormy night. You gotta do it like this.”

Remy snagged Thomas’ hand and twirled him, coming to a stop just outside the garden’s clearing, where no one else could see them. He dipped Thomas, low and smooth, locking their eyes.

“I would gladly spend a lifetime giving you a million kisses.” Remy said, voice low.

It had the desired effect. Thomas’ whole face went pink and he cleared his throat forcefully. 

“Uh, s-same.” He stuttered. 

Remy smirked and set Thomas back on his own feet. “No worries. I’ll help you work on that, too.”

“Promise?” Thomas asked, smiling shyly.

“Promise.”

Thomas lifted his head, pressing his and Remy’s lips together. Remy smiled into the kiss, wishing he could capture the feeling of his lips against Thomas’ in a bottle. He’d make a fortune if he sold it; feelings like this had to have been made in heaven itself.

He pulled away, drinking in the sight of Thomas. Plain, simple, and beautiful Thomas. Thomas, who owned his entire heart. 

“I love you.” Remy whispered.

“I love you, too.” Thomas smiled. 

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Cinderpatton:

None of his bravado and bluster was enough to prepare Roman for this. A blush immediately spread across his cheeks as his gaze dropped. He was the man primarily responsible for the kingdom’s heir, and he’d run his mother’s farm for years before beginning the rigorous knight training of the past decade and a half. Every inch of his body had been toned in service to the crown and the prince in front of him. And said prince was gazing besottedly at his muscled chest with a warmth that had nothing to do with lust. Or rather, almost nothing.

Pulling them both around the corner, out of view of the soldiers, Roman leaned down to kiss Patton softly. Patton smiled up into the kiss, feeling the heat of Roman’s continuing blush. He broke apart, letting the sensation linger, when suddenly he squeaked as Roman lifted him and spun him around.

“Who knew our sweet prince was so shallow?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“Only my gaze is shallow: my love is deep,” the prince responded, giggling as he regained his footing. He kissed Roman’s cheek and delighted in the pink tinge that resumed there.

“Dear one, as much as I love to see you, I am starving. I’m on my way to the kitchens unless you need my protection now?”

Patton’s smile dropped for a moment before returning. “No, sweet. I would never keep you from your meals. I will be in my room.”

Growing up as a single child in a royal family meant a young Patton had to be rather creative when it came to making friends. An impressively strong sweet tooth combined with an ability to easily slip past his etiquette teacher led him to toddle down to the kitchens almost every other day. Puppy eyes earned him cookies from the maids and chefs unable to resist. It was after a successful mission, when he was sitting in his favorite alcove, munching on macarons, that he spotted another boy his age.

“Hey! Hello! Who are you?” he piped up happily, waving with his free hand. The other balanced his haul of violet cookies in his now-stained tunic.

The boy froze, eyes wide as he realized the comment had been indeed aimed at him.

“Me? ‘M no one.”

“Silly, no one is no one!” the little prince said cheerfully. “Do you wanna mac’ron?”

The boy approached shyly. “Yeah, that would be nice. They’re my fav’rite color too.”

Patton handed the dark-haired child one of the tiny sandwiches. Cautiously, the other bit into it.

“Oh! ‘S good!” he exclaimed, mouth full.

“What’s your name?”

“Um, Virgil. Virge.”

“I’m Patton! Hi!”

Virgil nearly dropped the remaining half of the cookie. “The prince?”

“Uh-huh! Here, do you want another?”

“I, uh, no, I can’t, they said I can’t talk to the prince or the king or the duke because I’m too little and shy, I don’t wanna be bad.”

“That’s silly,” the little prince said. He squinted at the other boy. He’d already decided that Virge was his new best friend - for the first time, an adult hand wasn’t immediately pulling him away from him. “Dada is very nice. An’ Lyle is silly. You won’t be bad for talking to them!”

Virgil swallowed, then ate more of the cookie. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Patton responded, beaming. “Do you wanna play with me?”

Every day, Virgil expected he’d see the last of the prince, that playing hide-and-seek with a scullery servant would lose its appeal. But instead, their friendship only grew as the years stretched on.

When they were ten, he’d snuck Patton out of the castle for the first time, checking behind him every second. But they’d made it into the city without detection. They’d played hopscotch with other children in the main square, helped a seamstress hold her fabric still, and found a mother cat giving birth to a litter of kittens. Not even discovering his allergy to the fluffy creatures had dampened the young royal’s spirits, and they’d snuck back into the castle high on success.

When they were fourteen, Patton had found Virgil hiding in the dark corner, trying to calm racing thoughts that wouldn’t shut up. Patton had held his hand, talking quietly, and gotten him to start listing what he could see and feel. Virgil had confessed that he’d never tried those strategies before. Patton had hugged him tight to make up for all the times he hadn’t been there.

Roman had put a shirt on, at last, to go find food after training. Following his nose, he spied jam tarts cooling on the counter and slipped into the kitchen through the back door. Cautiously, he went to take a treat, only to get his hand slapped by a mixing spoon. Virgil’s glare made him smile sheepishly.

“Just one?”

“If you want to explain to the full Noble’s Council why their pastry tray isn’t perfectly arranged, then yes, you may have ‘just one,’” the pastry chef complained. “You know we have regular food down here, too.”

Roman sighed dramatically. “But without pastries, how will I survive? How will I live? I beg of you, take pity on me!”

“Then beg,” Virgil responded flatly. Then he made the mistake of making eye contact with the knight and snorted, falling into true laughter. “I’m making regular jam cookies later, Ro. Come back in the afternoon, I’ll keep some on the side for you. These are just the nice ones, kay?”

Roman grinned. “This is why you’re the coulis-t person I know, Virge.”

Virgil groaned in response. “I never should have taught you proper pastry terms. Talyn has some sliced ham and rolls in the next room, go beg from them, alright? I need to finish decorating.”

The knight gave a small mock of a bow and obeyed.

He and Virgil hadn’t always been so friendly. As a young man arriving to the castle for knight training, he’d haunted the kitchens every waking moment. The idea of a full belly was still exciting to a boy whose farm had struggled with droughts for almost half his life. But his sister and her husband had taken over the farm, and he’d been picked out for his strength to become a fighter.

He’d spent his first month in the castle sneaking into the storerooms at every given opportunity, eating anything he thought he could get away with. The kitchen helper, who was about his age, perhaps a year younger, had caught him first in the middle of the day, despite the lunch rush, then in the dead of night. How had he even been awake?

Roman was self-conscious of his hunger, surrounded by all that wealth, and lashed out at the creepy cookie who kept turning up when he least expected it.

But then, one quiet afternoon, he’d been sure the kitchens would be entirely empty. It was the rest period, so surely the safest time for a quick snack. Walking cautiously, he’d rounded the corner, only to see Virgil, covered in flour and butter stains as he carefully plaited a pie crust into a sheaf of wheat. The serenity of his concentration, the clear ease that came with no kitchen madness around him, and his proud smile as he successfully sealed his pastry forced Roman to see him in a new light. He’d cautiously come forward and complimented a job well done. One would think he’d actually seen a field of wheat, once!

The other man had nearly jumped out of his skin at first, but had then calmed enough to wave off the compliment with a smile. They’d had an actual conversation for the first time ever, and hundreds more soon followed. A strange friendship, perhaps, one that was tested every time Virgil made homemade jam for a treat that Roman wasn’t allowed to eat, but a strong friendship all the same.

Roman often wished he was able to show his love for Patton more openly, so that he could introduce the prince to the friends he’d made in the castle.

As he got into uniform to begin an official day as Patton’s protector, Roman spared a sigh for an old friend he’d yet to find here in the capital city. Growing up in a small farming community on the furthest borders of the kingdom, Roman had known only his siblings and parents until a new family moved into the plot next door. Their house burst with children, but there was one boy his age, one who viewed his very energetic siblings with a world-weary eye, even at seven years old.  But Roman, the youngest by a huge age gap, was lonely, and jumped at even a stick-in-the-mud as a potential playmate.

Their parents saw Logan and Roman’s friendship as oil and water, yelling matches during chores, long arguments that stretched through the harvest. But their clashes only showed how well-matched they were, how their competition forced them both to improve. Logan brought home books from the headwoman’s private library and introduced Roman to classics and plays, if only so they could immediately argue about the proper interpretation. More than one winter’s night found them in one of the barns with Roman leaping around a makeshift stage in an effort to prove how dramas were meant to be seen, not read.

But then, Logan left. The headwoman knew how much his parents struggled through the droughts with so many mouths to feed, and saw Logan’s innate brilliance. She found an opportunity for him to receive room and board in the capital city itself, and he’d be able to receive the best education Solarya had to offer. It was everything he could have wanted - except, he couldn’t bring his friend. Roman couldn’t leave his farm, anyway - his older brother was serving in the army, his sister had married and moved, and there was no one else to help his parents.

“Lo, I promise, someday I’ll come join you! You’ll see!”

“Roman, while I hope you’re correct, do not make promises you may never be able to keep. It is enough to say that we will try to reunite one day.”

They were standing at the gate, waiting for the coach that would take Logan and his few worldly possessions away, when Roman impulsively hugged the other boy. “I’ll miss you, Logan.”

The eleven-year-old stiffened, then hesitantly hugged back. “I… will miss you as well, Roman.”

Logan hadn’t expected the capital to be so overwhelming. Obviously there would be more people, but why was it so loud? Did more people in one space mean everyone needed to shout all the time? Even inside the castle, there was ambient sound everywhere. He didn’t find his first moment of peace until he was shown to the library. And the quiet of the room couldn’t compare to the symphony of excitement in his brain. Who knew there were so many books? So much knowledge to be unlocked! He was about to dive in when the closing door behind him caught his attention.

“Hello there!” a cheerful voice said in a very energetic library whisper. “You must be Logan!”

Turning, he caught sight of a jovial-looking man in the robes of a Royal University scholar. Round glasses balanced atop a long nose above a huge smile. “I’m Dr. Picani, your tutor. Do you how do?”

Logan stared. This man was not at all what he’d pictured as the most-respected professor in the kingdom. And what was that last sentence? He recognized all the words, but not in that order.

“Uh, hello?” he murmured back. “Yes, I’m Logan. I… sorry, you’re my tutor?”

“You betcha!” the happy man replied. “Not yours alone, of course. We’ll be sharing our time with one other student, who should arrive any second. Let’s go to the study room, shall we?”

He led the way to a small room that contained even more books in addition to a huge slate hung on the wall and two tables with a handful of chairs. Logan sat, still a bit dazed.

Barely a moment had passed before a rap sounded on the door. Dr. Picani opened it to reveal a huge soldier with a no-nonsense expression. “Dr. Picani. His Highness for his lessons.”

The professor nodded, and the soldier stepped aside to reveal a boy a bit younger than Logan. He had clean golden curls and wore a silk tunic. Logan was immediately uncomfortable. Sharing a class with a noble? Who’d probably be much smarter and resentful of sharing a class with a less-educated commoner? He looked down at the wood grain of the table, swallowing disappointment with the reality of what had appeared to be all his dreams coming true.

“Hiya!” a voice cut through. “I’m Patton, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Logan,” he replied, looking up once more.

“Nice to meet you Logan! I’ve never seen you in the castle before, are you new?”

“Yes, I just moved to the city.” Logan decided to not mention where he’d come from - better not give this noble any more reason to look down on him, no matter how strangely friendly he appeared to be. “I presume you’ve lived here for many years?”

“Since I was born! Not that I remember it exactly. Or really anything until I was three. Maybe I only moved here then? No but Dad says we’ve always been here so that’s probably right…”

Logan stared at the other young man as he happily chattered away. Was this what all nobles were like? The few who’d ridden through his hometown had barely made eye contact, let alone talked to commoners like normal people.

“Your Highness, maybe we better start the lesson?” Dr. Picani interjected with a smile.

Logan’s eyes grew huge in his face as he stared at the boy next to him. The guard had said it too - was this really the Prince of Solarya? Yes, Logan knew the Prince was named Patton, but it had become a very popular name in short order since the royal family chose it. The heir to the entire kingdom was grinning bashfully up at their shared tutor, practically still bouncing in his seat with anticipation.

The capital city was bizarre. But seeing the eager smiles on both his tutor’s and the prince’s faces, Logan realized he was probably going to have to get used to it.

As he neared his eighteenth birthday, Prince Patton was pulled into a small audience with his father and the vizier. Both men were stern.

“Prince Patton, why have you been neglecting your deportment classes?”

Patton winced - he’d hoped they wouldn’t notice. “Actually, Father, I have been using that time to learn more about my future kingdom and subjects-”

“You mean you’ve been spending excess time with your servants,” Duke Lyle cut in. Patton fell quiet, seeing his father’s frown deepen.

“Patton, you’re the crown prince; one day, you’ll be king. Our entire country’s fate will be in your hands. But the throne is only as strong as the respect our people have for it. If the prince himself doesn’t exercise proper decorum, doesn’t maintain the acceptable boundaries between liege and vassal, then no one will. Order will disintegrate, and every noble house in our realm will be affected. Now that you are coming of age, you must end these distractions, before another day passes.”

“But Father-”

“No buts, Prince Patton. My decision is final. If you cannot treat those who serve us in the proper manner, and insist on treating them as peers, I will be forced to dismiss them entirely.”

Patton felt tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. He was to lose his friends, then, no matter what he did. At the very least, he would not cost them their livelihoods.

“Very well, Father. I will do as you ask.”

Duke Lyle watched, eyes glittering in victory, as Patton left his father’s study and slowly trudged up the tower steps to his room.

Patton’s birthday arrived, and he was officially presented to the realm as the now-adult heir, no longer just the son of the king but now the official Crown Prince and king-to-be. He performed his role in the pageantry well, smiling and appearing solemn in the appropriate moments. He greeted dignitaries who brought well-wishes, he listened to subjects’ petitions as they appealed to his father, and he did his best to follow the deliberations of his father’s council of advisors. But under his polite mask, he was miserable.

Without his friends, he was alone in a world filled with adults who expected him to carry himself with all the dignity of a royal, yet did not listen to a single suggestion he made. Without the ability to visit Logan in the library, or Virgil in the kitchens, Patton’s days started to blend into one another as he was sent from meeting to audience to meal to meeting.

He begged his father to at least let him visit the city. “I won’t forget my position, Your Majesty. But I wish to be visible to them, at least. Please?”

King Thomas weighed his son with his eyes, then relented. “You may, then. But you’ll need a guard with you at all times.”

Patton deflated the slightest bit. “I suppose that would be most proper, wouldn’t it. One of the castle guards, then?”

Duke Lyle piped up, “Your Majesty, now that the Prince is of age, he ought to have a personal contingent of guards, shouldn’t he?”

The king nodded. “Indeed. There are a number of promising knights who might perform the job quite well.”

Patton was able to even smile naturally at both men. Having to keep the common folk at arm’s length wasn’t ideal, but at least he’d be able to talk to them. And having a knight-guardian would mean he’d at least have companion, if not a friend.

“Your Royal Highness,” Duke Lyle spoke up. “It has come to my and His Majesty’s attention that your silver jubilee is approaching.”

“My what?”

“You turn 25 this year, son,” the king answered. “When I was your age, I had been married a year, and you, my first child, had been born. It is time we look into marriage for you.”

“Father, Duke Lyle, I hardly think such a thing is necessary, not when Father is in such good health-”

“This is not just for the purpose of heirs and lineage, your Highness,” the vizier said smoothly. “Through your marriage, we can make an alliance, or settle tensions with noble houses in our realm or our neighbors’.”

Patton twisted hands in his tunic, hoping neither man noticed. How could he bear to marry another, when Roman’s love was all he wanted or sought? But they’d never approve, or allow such a thing.

“For instance,” the duke continued, his tone one of careful detachment, “the great house of Sanders has a son about your age. His parents are actively searching for an eligible match for him. And of course, they would never want to match him with someone entirely outside his preferences, just as we never would for you, Prince.”

“There are also some younger sons in neighboring kingdoms who could potentially make for a good alliance, but securing the support of House Sanders would be my preference,” the king added.

“I, uh, I thank you, your Majesty, your Grace. May I be excused to think on these options?”

“Of course, son. We will resume at another time.”

Patton walked outside quickly. Pushing through the door into the hall, he came face-to-face with Roman, who was smiling at him with that same gorgeous light in his eyes that always set the butterflies in his stomach a-flutter. But now the butterflies were sluggish and frail, disintegrating into a nauseating goo.

“Roman, can you come to my room? We need to talk,” Patton said. His normal smile quivered as he looked around the hall for observers.

“Of course, dearheart,” Roman said warmly, leading the way. He was so graceful in all his movements that Patton’s heart burned just to watch him walk away.

“Roman, my rose, it’s my father, and the vizier. They… want me to marry. A political marriage. One who just so happens to be Duke Lyle’s nephew. The young Baron Remington of House Sanders.”

Roman stiffened, then smiled sadly. “We knew it would come to this, did we not? We dared to love, knowing the impropriety of it, but we dared all the same. Sunshine, I would never interfere with your duty. I will always guard you, with my heart and my life, but if you must needs marry this noble, I will not stand in the way.”

“You wouldn’t resent it?”

“Would I pine and sorrow for my misfortune?” Roman asked, kissing Patton’s hand softly, then holding it against his own cheek. “Of course I will. I’ll curse my ill luck in being born common, cry fie upon the stars for separating us by our lineage. But I could never resent you, dearheart. Nor can I regret having the chance to have known you and loved you these past six years, not when I treasure each adoring glance and each kiss as dearly as I treasure my life. I only ask that you allow me to remain your vassal and guard, to hold you safe when I cannot hold you close.” Patton melted, hearing Roman’s rich, caramel-sweet voice speak such tender words of devotion. He leaned in to kiss the knight’s affectionate words while they lingered on his lips, and in that moment made a decision.

“Roman, I am to be king, am I not?”

“You’re already the king of my affections, but yes, you will be king of Solarya too, in time.”

“And the king’s rule of Solarya is absolute.”

“As it has been since the Sun herself named the first monarch, yes.”

Patton nodded. “If I’m to be the absolute ruler in the future, I can’t let anyone push me around with edicts that go against my heart and conscience.”

Roman caressed his prince’s cheek with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I won’t be coerced into marrying for politics when it necessitates a revolt against my affections. I will refuse to marry Baron Sanders.”

Roman felt his heart galloping in his chest as he met Patton’s shining, determined eyes.

“Patton, do you mean…?”

“Yes, my dear knight. Please, if you’ll have me…” He sank to one knee in front of Roman, keeping their hands clasped. “Sir Roman, will you marry me?”

Roman felt tears leaking out the edge of his eyes as he smiled so wide that his cheeks started to ache. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, Prince Patton. I have been and always will be yours. Yes, I will marry you, dearest sweet.”

Patton found he was tearing up as well Roman pulled him up to stand with him. Brushing his cheek with light fingers, Patton kissed his now-fiancé thoroughly. As the kiss suddenly turned salty from spilled tears, both men started to giggle. Roman felt his breath catch in his chest, watching the afternoon sun catch Patton’s curls as he threw his head back to laugh. The knight pulled his prince back to him, tasting the sound of laughter on his love’s lips.

“Father. I am not going to marry the Baron. I will be marrying my guard, Sir Roman.” The king stared in shock as his son continued, doors still hanging open from him barging into the king’s private study. “I will be also inviting my old friends from within the castle to our wedding. You may rule as you wish while you continue on the throne, but my reign will not be so divided between classes.”

The vizier, in his customary place by the king’s side, found his voice. “Your Highness, this is all highly-”

“‘Highly improper’? Yes, your Grace, I’m sure it is. And I plan to do it all the same.”

“Your Majesty, you must intercede-”

King Thomas turned to face his chief advisor. “Lyle, you know I value your judgment and advice, but it’s true. Patton will determine his own ruling style. I won’t undermine it, through marriage or otherwise.”

The duke tried once more. “Perhaps, then, a small, private ceremony within the castle?”

“No, your Grace. I am not ashamed of my fiancé nor his status. It will be a full state wedding.”

And it was.

The day dawned bright and sparkling. Keepers of the royal dovecote prepared the white feathery creatures for the grand finale. Footmen laid yards and yards of carpet along the aisle and lined up the benches and chairs of the interior ceremony, while even more footmen and maids displayed bouquets down and out of the public audience doors where the rest of the crowd would watch.

In the office that had been taken over as the central location for the wedding planning, Patton knelt to be on eye level with his floral consultant. “Is everything in order?”

“Yup!” Val responded with a grin the displayed a missing front tooth.

“Even the crowns?”

“You don’t get to see them yet!” she responded, sticking out her tongue. “No peeking!”

Patton grinned and kissed her hand. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands then!” Standing, he exchanged a quick hug and kiss on the cheek with Teresa. He’d commissioned them to arrange every single flower for their celebration, with the full power of the royal treasury behind them. Looking around this room, still filled to bursting with lovely blooms and wreathed in a rich bouquet of scents, he knew he’d made the right choice.

He left and went through the kitchens.

There was Virgil, head pastry chef, forehead creased in concentration as he directed the last details of the grand wedding cake, as a helper delicately placed a sugar-spun rose on the top. The chef turned and caught the eye of the prince with a shy grin. Patton mirrored it and flung himself forward to hug the man.

“Thank you for forgiving me, Virgil.”

“Hey, it was royal duty and all that, right? Knowing you wanted us back, and to be part of your wedding - how could I say no? Even if it is to that lunkhead of a knight.”

“Excuse you!” Roman said, entering with an offended gasp.

Virgil smirked and hugged Roman as well. “Oh good, I didn’t want to talk about you behind your back. Always better to call you a simpleton to your face.”

Roman grinned. “I’d expect nothing more from my favorite marzi-pain. You’re going to be free for the ceremony, right?” He slipped his hand into Patton’s, still getting a tingle of excitement from being so open in front of others.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up here. Is L-, uh, is Logan getting pulled away from his books too?”

“We twisted his arm, or rather, Patton asked very kindly and possibly offered to increase the library budget. So yes.”

“Why, is there a reason you’d perhaps like our resident scholar to be present?” Patton asked in his blandest-possible court voice.

Virgil ducked his head in response and said nothing, but Roman and Patton made eye contact as they both noticed the tiny smile playing across their friend’s lips.

A servant popped his head through the kitchen door. “Your Highness! And Knight-Captain! Thank goodness. We’re getting close to the ceremony, we need to get you both ready!”

The fiancés squeezed their linked hands once more before following the servant out, waving to Virgil as they left.

Royal fanfare sounded as a string quartet began to play processional music. King Thomas stood at the altar as  Duke Lyle attempted to conceal his glower in his place at the king’s elbow. They looked with the rest of the audience as people from the city, the guard, and the castle turned in their seats. Two aisles curved on either side of the seating area.

As gentle tones played, young women strode down the carpeted aisles, sprinkling flower petals. One wore light pink and purple under a blonde updo, and the other in blue and white under a matching hairdo in light brunette. Patton and Roman emerged in their wake from separate entrances. Virgil and Logan, in matching slate-grey suits, accompanied each fiancé as they paced deliberately down the aisle. Roman wore a custom dress uniform, a beautiful work in red and white, accented with gold filigree. The seal of the ancient House of Solarya had been reworked into his own flattering colors. His auburn hair was perfectly curled and shone in the sunlight. But it was nothing compared to the blaze of his smile as he neared his beloved Prince.

Patton gripped Virgil’s elbow tight as he strove to keep his steps in time with the music. The prince had kept the pomp of his station for the ceremony itself, but when it came to his own person, his modesty shone through. He did not wear the silken doublet and hose of the royal family, nor the yards-long cloak. He had chosen to leave off even a modest tiara or circlet to show his rank. Instead, he dressed in the finery of his citizens: tailored long jacket and long pants in his signature light blue. In his lapel, a rose as red as cherries in summer was affixed proudly, mirroring the lovely sprig of hydrangea pinned to Roman’s sash.

At last, both journeys down the aisle were complete, as Roman and Patton came face-to-face at the aisle. Taking his hands, Patton smiled so wide his face was practically split in two. The musicians finished on a last sweet note as King Thomas stood forward to officiate.

“Ladies, lords, nonbinary nobility, and all our treasured friends of Solarya,” he spoke, his strong voice projecting out the open public doors to the waiting public beyond. “Thank you, one and all, for joining us on a day of such bliss for our family. Our son and heir, Prince Patton, means today to wed Sir Roman, Knight-Captain of the Castle Guard. We are beyond proud of our son, and bless this union wholeheartedly. They have prepared their own vows.” The king stepped back, bowing their head. Virgil, far too close to the current head of the nation for his comfort, was startled to spot the king wiping away a single happy tear that coursed down the royal cheek.

“Dearest Patton,” Roman began, clearing his throat. “Whether near or far, I am always yours. I was content to be your guardian from all the world. Now, I pledge to be your champion, protecting your person, your throne, and your heart. I will tell you each morning those qualities of yours that I’ve fallen in love with, and I will never run dry as I fall in love more each day. From now until forever, dear sweet. I love you.”

Logan watched his childhood friend glowing with adoration and found his normal distaste with sentiment had entirely vanished. Or perhaps it had curled up in his throat and was the reason he now felt almost close to tears. He surreptitiously sneaked a glance as his fellow groomsman and saw Virgil’s shining eyes grow soft in his face as he watched the gentle kiss Roman planted on his beloved’s hand.

Patton carefully wiped an eye underneath his glasses and took his turn to speak. “My precious Roman. I feel as if I have loved you for a thousand years, and yet I know I will love you for at least a thousand more. Glorious knight, your courage takes my breath away, and your ideals alight a fire in my mind and heart. I pledge to never again be your liege, but your partner, equal in every sense. You will be no royal consort, but my king as I will be yours. From now until forever: I love you.”

At the prince’s pronouncement, Virgil watched Roman’s eyes widen. He risked a look behind to see a similar level of shock in the king’s eyes, and something that looked like speechless indignation in the Duke’s. It seemed Patton hadn’t told any besides his best men of his plan to elevate Roman to full royal status, including his husband-to-be.

But Roman recovered as Patton elegantly bowed to kiss his hand in return, and Teresa, glorious in a coppery gown, stepped forward with a mahogany box. Virgil and Logan walked to meet her as she flipped open the top, revealing two flower crowns nestled in a velvet bed. Tiny red roses and individual blue hydrangea flowerheads created two circlets as the best men removed them and set them upon the grooms’ heads. Long silken ribbons in gold connected the two crowns to each other, allowing room for Roman and Patton to turned to face the crowd. As the audience caught sight, there was a gasp followed by a roar of approval and joy. The binding crowns, as they were called, were part of the age-old Solaryan commoner marriage ceremony. Only the most progressive or least-connected noble houses had adopted the tradition that almost every other citizen of the country practiced. But now the citizens of Solarya watched as their crown prince stood with his husband in the finery they themselves had worn on their wedding days. And the delicate crowns sat where soon would lie the two crowns of their future kings.

King Thomas was barely able to speak through his delighted tears, but managed to squeak out: “Husband and husband!”