#loceit fluff

The adrenaline was getting to his head, stirring up usually dormant worries. He couldn’t stop glancing down at his hands. They were warm tan, patterned at random with lighter splotches. He had a condition known as vitiligo which made areas of his skin lose their pigmentation. For the majority of the time, it wasn’t a big deal; the worst part was the weird looks people gave him and even then, he could usually brush them off. Still, there was always the occasional idiot who felt the need to say something rude or inform him that he showed signs of demon possession. He hoped beyond everything that one of those incidents didn’t occur while he was alone in the store.

Thankfully, the only customers for the next few hours were a couple groups of teenagers at varying levels of intoxication and a traveling family made up of two parents suffering from highway-hypnosis and a small child who tried to climb into one of the drink refrigerators.

By one in the morning, the flow of incoming patrons had completely stopped. By that point James had already thrown back an entire 5-hour Energy drink and reorganized the chip rack— twice .

When the entry bell finally rang again at around two, James’ head was buzzing so badly he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sound or not. A young man walked in— college aged with messy hair and glasses. He disappeared into the rows of brightly coloured plastic bags without a word and so quickly it made James once again question whether or not he was hallucinating.

It wasn’t until the man had made his way back to the counter, setting down a bag of chips and a couple energy drinks, that James was sure he existed. The man’s hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in two days and his dark circles were so deep they could be seen from beneath his squared glasses. Yup, definitely a college student.  

Despite the obvious signs of exhaustion, the man was undeniably pretty. Counter to his tired scowl, his eyes were bright and alert, framing a sharp nose. The way he kept his strong chin tilted slightly upwards and walked with purpose gave him the appearance of someone who actually knew what he was doing with his life— so basically, the opposite of James.

James was hardly ever self conscious about his appearance but this man— this stupidly pretty, oddly perfect man— made James squirm just a little bit, made him wonder if he was living on one side of some scale while the customer lounged on the other side. James tried to shrugged it off, focusing on the items in front of him instead.

The man spent the entire interaction at the counter muttering to himself and never once making eye contact. It was a little strange, but he was cute and James was bored so he decided to just appreciate the entertainment while it lasted.

It wasn’t until James went to hand the man his receipt that he seemed to even become aware of James’ existence. James held out the thin slip of paper, apparently causing the man to flinch backwards. His reaction was strong enough to make James wonder if he was one of those people— the type that thought vitiligo was some sort of deadly, contagious disease.

His eyes darted up quickly, his gaze sharp as it scanned over James’ face, “You’re not the normal cashier.”

He was taken aback by the accusing tone in the man’s voice, “No, I guess I’m not? I just got hired; the other guy got let off… something about trying to steal the plunger.”

“Oh,” His face transformed into a noncommittal scowl that James simply could not read, “Expect me regularly.”

The man turned on his heels and walked briskly to the door as James stood frozen and mystified behind the counter, “Oh, uh… see you soon then.”

——————

James woke up to the smell of something burning. He didn’t even remember dragging himself home and collapsing in his bed but based on the smell bothering him he evidently had made it back. No one could burn food quite like his roommate.

“Remus what the fuck are you doing?” James shuffled out to the kitchen where his roommate was poking at something on the stove.

“Making lunch.”

Based on his bed head and near-complete lack of clothes (Remus always slept in booty shorts and nothing else) James could guess that he had woken up only a few minutes earlier himself, “Dude that does not smell like anything humans should eat.”

Remus gave him a wicked grin and James decided not to push the subject. He walked out of the room with a sigh and hoped that the smell would clear up soon.

He made his way into the living room, sitting down and flipping open his laptop. James groaned at the lack of new email notifications. No new emails meant no new job acceptions.

“Guess I’m working the night shift again.”

James was grateful he got the job at the convenience store— no question. Getting a job as a college dropout was both necessary and nearly impossible at the same time. He was lucky to get a job at all and being a graveyard shift, he got paid nearly double the normal wage for his position. For now, his sleep schedule would just have to suffer.

——————

The weeks drifted by and James fell into a dull, but easy rhythm. He would go to work every night, spend the hours rearranging chip bags, guarding the plunger, and— if he was lucky— the pretty college boy would come in for a few minutes to grab salty food and a caffeinated drink.

James wasn’t sure when it became “lucky” for the man to come into the store. Maybe it was lucky because he was entertaining, always preoccupied and wandering around the store like his mind was a hundred miles away. He had this odd sort of duality— somehow both spaced out and intensely focused at the same time. It was like he was concentrating on the dimension beyond the one James was living in. He floated through this world, always preoccupied with world in his head. It was endearing and intriguing and James found himself looking forward to seeing the man. James wanted to see the world inside his head, to know what was so captivating that he had no use or interest for what was outside of it.  

The student was quickly becoming his favourite customer— something James never thought he would have— and he genuinely enjoyed having a chance to talk to the other guy. He was handsome, obviously intelligent, and, if given the chance, James definitely would’ve asked him out for a drink.

As it was though, James looked awful in his uniform so he would never have the confidence to make a move the only times he ever saw him.

James started to watch for him. The man came at least once a week, always between midnight and four in the morning. He must have lived nearby because he always walked over instead of taking a car like most of the other patrons. Either that, or he lived further away and walked all the way just for a bag of chips and an energy drink.

It was a Thursday like any other when he walked into the store and James’ curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” James leaned across the counter as the man sat his items down, “you come around here often?”

He tilted his head quizzically, “Yes? I do come here often? You’ve seen me.”

“No I— it was a joke,” James resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was… not going the way James would have hoped, “What’s your name? We might as well get on first name basis since we see each other all the time.”

“I’m Logan,” Logan seemed surprised by the question.

“I’m James.”

Logan gave a curt nod, “I know.”

“But— how? I—“

“It’s on your name tag,” And with that, Logan turned and marched out of the store.

——————

Logan laid on his back, arms and legs spread over the entirety of his bed. The only leftover space of the bed was occupied by Patton, one of his housemates.

“So how did the all-nighter go?”

Logan groaned, “Well… it sure as hell did go all night. I’m so fucking tired.”

“This is what you get for viewing the entire American university system as a challenge.”

He squinted up at Patton. With his blond hair and round, smiling face he looked like the direct inversion of whatever pale little zombie Logan currently felt like, “I gotta stop staying up so late.”

“I don’t know, you kind of seem to like it,” His housemate patted his leg and stood up to walk out of Logan’s room, “By the way, where do you keep going? I hear you leaving the house, like, super early all the time.”

Sunlight was streaming through his partially open blinds. It was probably quite pretty but to Logan it just looked like a headache-inducing glare. He threw a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he answered, “Booty call.”

Patton laughed as he stopped walking, “Yeah right. The day you answer a booty call is the day I will shave my head.”

Logan shifted the pillow slightly to look at Patton again. The man’s hair was his prize possession, like a curly fluffy cloud that he kept as a pet on top of his head. Logan didn’t know how Patton could afford the time and money he put into his hair. What he did know, however, was that Patton would never risk its safety. Logan frowned in (mostly) fake insult, “You really think there’s not a single person who would send me a horny text at three in the morning?”

“Nah I think there are quite a few people who would do that. I just doubt there’s anyone you’d actually find worth answering.”

Was there anyone he would actually answer? Logan stared up at the dark fabric above him. The pillowcase was a deep navy blue and if he really squinted, he could see the weave of the thread, a thousand random threads coming together to make a greater whole. The way the individual pieces created something far larger than themselves was fascinating to Logan. He had never given it much before, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find a random individual worth making something together.

In the darkness covering his eyes, a vision of the convenience store cashier flashed across his mind. The face he saw was light brown and across that warm canvas, lighter portions sprawled. For the first time, Logan began really thinking about that face. He had sharp features, tired eyes, and when he smiled with lips sloped upwards at a lopsided angle. His skin reminded Logan of the glossy photos of nebulae in his astronomy textbooks— bright splashes breaking up the sameness of the night sky. How had he never noticed that before? What was his name? James.

He heard the creak of their old floors beneath Patton as he walked out of Logan’s room. He probably thought Logan had fallen asleep as he lay there in silence. He was far from asleep, though. His mind was racing, trying to find the missed connections and continually finding new ones in the process. His eyes flickered as previously unrecognized thoughts began surfacing. And they didn’t stop. How had he never noticed?

“I’ve been going to that convenience store down the street,” Logan called as Patton walked away.

James.

Maybe there was someone for him.

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"Why aren't you with them?" Deceit blurts out in surprise. Logan turns in his chair at the kitchen table, smiling slightly.

"I was waiting for you, of course," he says. Deceit's face burns as he crosses the kitchen and settles into his own chair, looking at the table in surprise. Or rather the two mugs, one steaming in front of Logan and the other waiting in invitation at his spot. Is that...?

"Hot cocoa," Logan confirms quietly. "Patton showed me how to make it before he left to join the snowball fight." Deceit shivers theatrically at the mention, making Logan's smile widen.

"Thank you, Logan," Deceit murmurs. "It looks simply terrible."

"I added more marshmallows to yours," Logan says, taking a measured sip of his own. "I know you like sweets." Deceit buries his pink-cheeked face in his cocoa, taking a delighted sip and letting himself blep as the taste of chocolate slides over his taste buds. Making hot chocolate has never been a strong suit of his (he's much more suited to making tea) and while he's on decent terms with Patton and the others now, he still feels a bit uncertain, going and asking for something as silly as a mug of hot cocoa.

But this... This is perfect. Hot and frothy, with just the right amount of mini marshmallows to bob and melt at the top.

"Would you like to adjourn to the couch?" Logan asks, gesturing with his mug. "We can watch whatever we like. The others aren't likely to be in for at least another hour or two."

"Detective shows," Deceit says at once, and Logan grins.

"This shall be ideal," he says, and stands up. He's taller than Deceit, but Deceit decides he really doesn't mind, as he trails after the logical side to the living room. After all, it means that he gets to be the little spoon when they cuddle. For someone who's easily cold, that can only be ideal.

Deceit settles on the sofa while Logan retrieves the remote, wrapping his own yellow blanket around himself and holding one end of it open in invitation. Logan smiles when he sees it, sitting down and letting Deceit rest against him, nuzzled into Logan's shirt. It smells like clean laundry and books to Deceit's questing tongue.

"This is much better," Deceit mumbles sleepily, Logan retrieving his mug and setting it on the coffee table. "I'd much rather spend the day with you."

"And I with you," Logan admits. Deceit's hat falls askew and Logan plucks it off, keeping it safe on the arm of the couch.

The opening theme song begins to play and Deceit smiles, nestling against his boyfriend to watch.

"You- you got married?" Patton's voice was timid. He didn't expect this day to come. But he currently wanted his father-son dance with Logan

Janus and Logan's faces quickly turned to shock. "What?! No! We're engaged! These are engagement rings daa-- Patton!" Logan blushed at the almost use of Pattons old title. Not that Logan didn't view Patton as a father figure -far from it, Janus and him were the youngest sides- but calling someone dad while you are practically the same age and completely imaginary is quite weird in his opinion but I mean-

"My love, your zoning out again."

Logan could hear the amusement in his fiance's voice. Squeezing Janus' hand slightly; Logan cleared his thoat, "What was that question again?"

Roman was slightly laughing before Remus elbowed him in the ribs, "OW REM-" "Roman sh! Do you have a date picked out yet?" Virgil had a hopeful shimmer in his eyes

Logan and Janus looked at eachother briefly, "Not really, to be honest" Janus laughed slightly. "He just asked me last night," a lose curl falling from behind the yellow sides ear. Logan quickly catching it to tuck it back to its rightful place

The sides migranted over to couch. They had a feeling that they'll be talking for a while.

"Any ideas on a theme yet?" Roman was bouncing enthusiastically, hands tight fisted on the couch. A huge ear to ear grin spread on his face

Logan hummed, thinking back to a precious conversation, "We're thinking victorian or dark academia. But we're open to any suggestions!" his hand was tracing circles over and over on Janus' back.

Roman jumped off the couch. Bouncing up and down over and over and over, "FEAR NOT MY BELOVED FRIENDS! I will help you plan it!"

Romans eyes sparkled rapidly. Grin glowing like wild, he paused for a second or two before gasping, "WE COULD HAVE IT IN A HUGE GOLDEN BALLROOM! With crystal plates! And a hundred foot tall cake! An-"

It was at that point where the blue and yellow sides completely zoned out to Romans tangent.

The newly engaged couple gave eachother a look. This look said a lot of things. But mainly 'are we seriously going to let a side who thinks throwing glitter at random objects equels fashion. Complete control of our wedding?' that look. Its a very very specific look. But its a very obvious look.

The red creativity seemed to notice the couples glazed over eyes and blank expression. So he quickly stopped his rant to add on a rather important detail, "I mean... If you guys want me to help. Its completely ok if you don't!! I mean, its ok, I just-"

"Roman for the love of all things holy. Please stop talking." Logan was rubbing his temple with his free hand, "We would love to have you help plan our wedding. But we don't need a ballroom, or crystal plates, or any fancy fairy tale type things." He squeezed Janus' hand with a bright grin, "We just need eachother."

Roman's dramatic pose and extreme tangent faltered. He paused. Seeming to process the information. Before a small grin took his face. "then thats what you two will have."

Janus moved his gaze from Roman to the green twin... Looking at the floor.... With a pout that could kill a god.... Looking very non-Remus esq.

"Remus, do you also want to help plan our wedding?"

In the span of a second, Remus' face bounced between 50 different emotions before settling on complete and utter happiness, "I THOUGHT YOU WOULD NEVER ASK MY AMAZING DOUBLE D-"

Patton slapped his hand over Remus' mouth, "lets not talk about my future son-in-law like that! eeewwwWWWWWW!!! ROMAN HE LICKED MY HAND!!" Patton snapped his hand away as soon as he put it on.

Laughter filled the rest of the night... And quite a bit of wine.

------2 mouths later-----

Logan grumbled as he threw another crumpled piece of paper against the desk. Elbows on the desk, hands pressing into his eyes.

His supposed vows were going amazingly. Completely. Totally. A hundred percent. Amazing....... Oh who was he kidding? His vows were going terribly.

Not from lack of love or anything absolutely ridiculous like that. He loved Janus more then the stars, moon and galaxies combined. He loved everything about Janus.

He loved Janus' snark. He loved the way his eyes glowed when they watched a movie. Or how Janus' voice drips like steeped honey and smoked chives. Or how his snake eye dilates when he's happy. Or when he gets excited and talks for hours and hours about a philosopher or a certain myth that sparked his interest or reminded him of their relationship-

Thats it.

The last myth that Janus was talking about was Perseus and Andromeda.

Andromeda was to be sacrificed to save her kingdom because her mother boasted about her beauty to the nererids. The nererids told their father, Poseidon, and as revenge; Poseidon sent a sea monster to ravenge the kingdom. Perseus, the hero who slayed Medusa, saw Andromeda chained to the stone and slayed the sea monster. After saving her, he took her hand in marriage.

It was far from their love story. Far far from their love story. But...

The way his eyes lit up.

Logan could get drunk on that look. He could live off that look alone for the rest of his life. Oh and that smile

Logan takes his head out of his hands. Mouth agape.

He had an idea

---------

Janus had been hitting his head against his desk for hours.

Janus could write millions of speeches, and could convince armys to do his bidding, and he could use empty words to get his desires.

But these damn vows.

Janus supposes that its because he isn't used to truth. But he wants too! But the truth seems to be avoiding him more then mouse with a cat.

Logan likes cats, he could never get one before because Patton's allergic. Should he even call Patton by his name? Wouldn't he call him dad now?

He allowed his mind to wonder for a short period of time. Elbows on the desk, hands pressing into his eyes.

This needs to be the truth and its not like he's low on love for Logan. Far far from it

They met when they were younger. Really really younger. He doesn't even remember it. But according to Virgil, Logan and him stared at eachother for five minutes before actually talking to eachother -more like babbling- after that they were practically inseparable. They did everything together apparently. Then they stayed friends for a long time. They barely even talked to eachother by the time that he introduced himself to Thomas. But...

But then Logan became a dark side. Logan started to unbutton the top of his polo. Logan stopped wearing the tie. Logan started to wear ice blue makeup. The Logan he knew as a child came back.

The Logan who loved science, bugs and books. Who loved ranting about old dead philosophers and Janus loved to listen. Logan loved old libraries and classical music. The Logan that used to watch Bill Nye as a child and knows the theme song by heart. The Logan that loved old myths and stories. The Logan who would go outside to the imagination and watch the stars and constellations for hours. His Logan

His favourite constellation was Perseus-

He has an idea.

----The Wedding Day----

Janus adjusted his suit for probably the millionth time. Running his fingers through his hair, attempting to make it lay properly. But only making the curls more wild.

Grumbling obscurities while trying to smooth down his damn hair, he heard low chuckles behind him.

"You know your only gonna make it worse, right Jan?" Virgil was leaning against the wall. His own hair absolutely perfect.

Janus sighed, "I know dad. But I just want my damn hair to lay properly for once! This is why I wear my damn hat-" the chuckles turned into full laughter.

"Logan will love you, no matter how your hair looks," Virgil stood up straight (HA) and walked over to Janus

He took a comb and started to go through his hair. Janus stopped growing by the time he was fifteen, so he was maybe at shoulder height with Virgil. "You need to stop worrying so much, and thats coming from me. Lo loves you more then the sun itself. Don't worry about something as silly as your hair."

Janus watched from the floor to ceiling mirror as Virgil expertly calmed down the mess of his hair.

Meanwhile.....

"Patton please stop crying. Your going to stain my suit-"

"BUT MY BABY'S GETTING MARRIED!!!" tears were still leaking down his face. He's been doing this since he came into the room -which was about twenty minutes ago-

Logan sighed, a smile apparent on his face as he patted his father figure on the back. "I know." he straightened his bowtie slightly in the mirror, "I just love him so much dad," Patton sat down in one of the dressing room chairs. A smile covering his entire face.

"Jan isn't really one to cry. But when I proposed to him? Tears just started leaking. I thought he was upset, so I went to comfort him," blush growing on his cheeks, "then he kissed me and looked me directly in the eyes and said yes." Logan felt a huge grin spreading on his cheeks against his will. He looked out of the mirror and back to his father. "He said yes."

Patton stood up from his seat and put his hands on Logan's shoulders, "and now its your wedding day. You two are going to get married and live out your lives being complete loveable nerds as you talk about philosophy and the stars and things I could never understand. You two are absolutely perfect for eachother and I can't wait to see where you two go next." while tears still shone in his eyes, the smile showed that they were of happiness.

They stared at eachother for a few minutes. Patton nitpicking small details to fix on Logan's suit.

"Janus the one walking down the isle right?"

Logan laughed softly, "yeah, he said it was a more dramatic entrance. Thats my future husband, right there"

Patton looked a little puzzled, "Can you even call him your future husband if the ceremony is starting in less then ten?"

"I mean, technically thats in the futur- wait. How much time was left?"

Patton blinked. Looking in the eyes of his son, "Ten minutes."

A look of panic shot through Logan. "We have to go!"

Logan grabbed Patton's hand. Pulling him out to the room. The celebration hall was stunning

It was outside, circle tables scattered around the clearing like the stars above scattered in the sky. A banquet table for the newly weds, their parents and their best men. The altar was covered in delicate fairy lights illuminating a soft glow. The shimmering stars above their heads shone brighter the usual. The constellations of Perseus and Andromeda were by far the brightest.

Logan stopped in his tirade to the altar. And simply looked at the brilliant view that the twins had put together for them.

For once in his life. Logan was speechless.

"They did a good job right?!?"

Logan was still looking around the meadow, amazed at every tiny detail. From the black dahilas that Remus insisted on including because of the famous unsolved murder, to the fairy lights climbing up the pillers that was no doubt Roman's doing.

"Its beautiful... How di-"

"The twins are a very creative bunch, kiddo!! We have five minutes until your wonderful groom comes out!" The other guests were starting to fill the room as Logan took his place at the altar. It was mostly figments that Thomas had made. Emile, Remy, The Critic, etc. They all took their seats and watched the meadow.

Logan walked over to his place next to the altar. Hands fidgety and resisting the urge to mess with the hair that he spent so long combing down. Roman stood at his side, while Remus waited at the other side of the altar for Janus. Before he knew it the music started to play, the quests rose from their seats, he felt his desire to stand straight. But none of those compared to when Janus walked into the room.

Janus walked in with Virgil latched on to his arm. A periwinkle blossem on the left of his chest. He still had his yellow gloves on -he really hated taking them off. Without the gloves, Janus couldn't lie- but he was without his hat. He was in a black tux with a yellow bowtie.

Logan couldn't think of anything else more beautiful. Logan couldn't think of anyone more beautiful then the side in front of him. Logan couldn't help the gigantic, ear to ear smile as Janus arrived at the altar and took his hands in his own.

The officiant -Who Roman just summoned from the imagination- cleared his voice and spoke to the whole room of people, "Friends and Family, we are gathered here today to connect two side's hearts and souls through this ceremony.

Logic Logan Sanders, Do you take this side to love and to hold, to protect and charish and to adore until the end of your lives?"

His smile growing wider, eyes sparkling with deep love and affection; Logan gazed into Janus' eyes, lightly squeezing his hands. "More then the sun and the stars."

The officiant smiled slightly before turning to Janus. "Deceit Janus Sanders, Do you take this side to love and hold, to protect and charish and to adore until the end of your lives?"

Tears shone throughout Janus' eyes. He removed his hands from Logans and for a second the blue side felt his heart drop, only for it to swell when he sees Janus remove his gloves and place his hands back in Logans. "More then every lie, secret and promise I have ever made."

The officiant turned back to Logan, "Please say your vows."

Logan felt his heart throb as he opened his mouth,

"Janus. In the very very long time that I have known you, I find myself falling more in love with you every day. I love how you laugh. I love how when you're tired you curl up to my side. I love how you stay by my side through it all. My translation from a light side to dark, my learning cerve to our new family, every dilemma from the others that we have to enviably fix.

Every night, every day, every hour, every minute, every second. You occupy my mind. And god Janus, I never want you to leave it.

I love you. I love you more then Perseus loved Andromeda." Logan's eyes were shining with unshed tears, he lightly squeezed Janus' hands. "I love you Janus and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

The officiant nodded, then he turned to Janus. "Please speak your vows."

Janus drew a shaky breath before speaking.

"Logan, I honestly don't remember when we met. You were my only constant, the unchanging variable that I could always fall back on. You were always there for me and I want to always be there for you.

I love you more then anything Logan. The way you light up when a new documentary comes out, drives butterflies to my stomach. When you laugh, I get lightheaded. When you smile, I get bolts of electricity to my heart. When you take me to the imagination for a date among the stars, I get so love drunk that things get dizzy. When you took me to our favourite place and got on one knee, I cried tears of joy.

There is nothing that I don't love about you. I've always found honest words hard to process. But believe me when I say that I've said no lies to you. You are the one person I will never lie to. I love you more then Andromeda loved Perseus," Janus looked up at Logan. The height difference apparent, but he smiled like he never smiled before. "I love you Logan. And I cannot wait to call you my husband."

The two sides gave eachother looked at eachother with pure adoration and love.

"Please put these rings on eachother."

They could hear Patton's loud sobs in the background as they slipped on the rings.

The officiant smiled wide, "I now pronounce you, Husband and Husband! You may now kiss your groom!"

They flew together like magnets. Logan grabbed the side of Janus' face to pull him closer, the earthy smell of cloves and plums filling his senses. Janus held Logan's arms and pulled him towards him. The kiss was far from chaste, but they pulled apart not long after to be met with......

"NOW YOU GOTTA STRIP AND FU-- OW ROMAN!!"

"NOT AT THE WEDDING YOU BABOON!"

The twins were a very chaotic bunch...

The wedding continued perfectly as planned. Then it came to the father-son dances.

Virgil as Janus were doing well. Virgil was giving Janus his best wishes and telling him how proud he was if him.

Patton and Logan??

Patton always cries at wedding to say the least...

Then it was their turn to dance.

Logan took his husbands hand and led him to the dance floor. It was lit by only fairy lights and the extra bright stars. They twirled and spinned and danced like they was only the two there.

The two battled for the lead before Logan won. Hand now in the swell of Janus' back and leading him in a very elaborate ballroom dance. Janus' scales glowing a bright yellow. Even over the music you could hear their laughter.

Patton and Virgil stood on the sidelines. Watching as their children had their fun. Virgil hummed slightly, "you owe me twenty bucks Patt."

Patton was very confused, he hadn't made any new bets recently or borrowed any money. "Why is that kiddo?"

Virgil turned and looked at Patton, "Ten years ago, you bet me that Lo and Jan would never get married. You owe me a twenty."

Patton grumbled slightly as he pulled a bill from his jacket pocket and handed it over. "This is the best bet I've ever lost then."

Virgil laughed, purple beginning to dust under his eyes. "You got that right," He took two glasses of champagne from the waiters walking by, "To our beloved children?"

Patton took the glass and raised it with Virgil. "To our beloved children." they then took a long sip and continued to watch as the couple danced.

The stars shining above, the moon full. They loved eachother more then Perseus and Andromeda.

-------

I. REGRET. NOTHING!!!

I also have 0 self control soo

The charcters are very ooc... But I don't overly care.

If there was one thing he hated more than New Years, it was New Years parties. He would go so far as to say the things were the bane of his existence. The music was bad, people got loud and overly exuberant, and strobe lights were used were used far more than ever reasonable. Alcohol always floated around with disturbing prevalence. He hated how fuzzy it made his head- throwing off his balance and slowing his thoughts- but at least it made the party easier to handle.

Damian threw back a shot of cheap, bight blue tequila and winced as it hit the back of his throat. Disgusting. Just because he was trying to get drunk didn’t mean he lacked class.

He set the glass down on a table behind him so he could pretend he hadn’t touched the repulsive thing. He was sitting on a sofa tucked against the back corner of a living room in a house he had never been to before. Next to him, someone was already passed out. They would be starting their new year with a killer hangover.

Across the room, he could see the friends who had dragged him to the houseparty. Roman and Patton were dancing in a crowd of other students, broad grins painted across both of their faces. At least they were happy.

A young man weaved his way through the crowd and threw himself onto the sofa next to Damian with a mixture of disdain and defeat. Damian had seen him around a few times; they had a philosophy class together the last semester. What was his name? Lucas? Landon? Bradon?

“Hey,” Lu-nd-on elbowed him in the side, “You want some champagne?”

Damian raised an eyebrow as he turned to face the man, “Excuse me?”

He pulled a bottle of champagne from somewhere in his coat. The gold foil at the top was already ripped away and he popped the cork off with ease, taking a swig before offering it.

Damian tried not to stare incredulously, but it was a difficult task when his brain was short-circuiting, “Did you just drink out of a champagne bottle like it was a beer?”

“Sure. Why not.”

Damian reached out hesitantly to take the bottle. He was beginning to doubt that this actually was the guy he had shared a class with. That one looked like the type who wouldn’t have been caught dead at a party. The only similarity was the way they dressed- round wireframe glasses, a corduroy jacket over a black button down, and black skinny jeans. His hair- dark brown and pulled into a long ponytail- was the same too.

“Did- did we have a class together?” He took a drink. It was good- expensively good.

“Historical philosophy. You probably don’t remember me- my name’s Logan. You’re Damian, right?”

“Yep. I hear I’m kind of hard to forget,” Damian waved his hand at the dark red birthmark that stretched messily across the left side of his face.

“No. Well, yes. That is, I remember you for a different reason.”

Logan stared at him like he was supposed to understand what that meant. Damian stared back, hoping to convey the fact that he, in no way, understood what was going on.

“So, uh,” Damian searched for something to keep the conversation going, “can I ask about the champagne?”

“You’re asking why I have it?”

Damian nodded, “I am, yeah. Also why you pulled it out of your jacket?”

“As for the first question: people seem to have made a tradition out of getting wasted on New Years Eve and I decided to join them this year.”

Damian had never heard someone speak so matter of factly about getting drunk. He shook his head, laughing, “So you bought an entire bottle of champagne? There are easier methods, you know that right?”

“If you’re referring to the blue monstrosity everyone keeps offering, please know that I’m not a heathen.”

“Oh, so you tried one of those awful things too?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a ruthful smile, “I may have made that mistake.”

Damian handed the bottle back to Logan who took another drink before locking his gaze on Damian’s eyes. He stared like there was a problem in them and he just couldn’t figure out how to solve it. Damian was used to people staring, but not like this. Usually, they would take one look at him and their eyes would glaze over. Whatever the conversation might be, they would always be partially focused on the splatters some god had painted on his face long before he had a say in the matter. It wasn’t that Damian disliked his birthmark. He just hated the way people always saw it instead of him.

But Logan. He was looking at him. Into him, through him. He had no idea what to do with that.

Damian laughed nervously, “What are you looking at?”

Logan cleared his throat and stared out into the crowd, “Anyways I had it in my jacket because these people are all animals and I’d prefer they didn’t rob me of my 35 dollar champagne.”

Logan had handed him the bottle back and Damian choked on the mouthful he had been trying to drink, “I’m sorry, what? So let me get this right: you bought a champagne bottle which is worth more than I usually spend on food for a week. And now you are sharing it with me of all people?”

“Why not you of all people?”

Logan was staring at him again like answers to all of these riddles were obvious.

Damian blinked back, feeling more lost than he had in years. Even that stupid Advanced Geometry course he had decided to take in his freshman year hadn’t screwed him over this badly. Maybe the alcohol was finally getting to him. It would explain why he couldn’t hold a single coherent thought and why he was so hypnotized by the pale freckles that dusted Logan’s nose and cheekbones. They were so light they nearly melted into his skin and seemed to be phasing in and out off existence as the dim lighting played against Logan’s face. He had never noticed them before. Then again, he had never gotten this close before. It was a shame; Logan was mesmerizing. Damian wished he could get closer.

“So what are you going to do after we get out of here?”

It took Damian a moment to realize Logan was asking about a career and not what he would be doing after the party once they left- apparently together. That would have been strange; it was weird his brain even jumped to that conclusion.  Maybe he should stop drinking that damn champagne.

He sighed as his mind returned to the actual question. He wanted to make something up, hide behind a lie of certainty and determination. But it was too much work to weave that fabrication together. Especially on the spot. Especially with how his head was feeling. Especially in front of Logan. He hung his head, “Honestly I have no clue. I’ve always been interested in social sciences but beyond that... no plan, no clue.”

A beat of silence played out between them.  

“So what about you?” The forced brightness in his voice tasted fake and bitter in his mouth.

“I want to teach sciences,” Logan’s eyes glittered.

“A college professor, huh? I could definitely see it,” Logan handed him the bottle and Damian threw yet another swallow back. Didn’t he say he was going to stop?

“High school level, actually.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem-“ Damian pointed at the champagne bottle in an attempt to remind Logan of what a bougie, extra bitch he was, “ -sophisticated enough for you.”

Logan shrugged, “I kind of have a fascination with high schoolers-“

“Ok, that’s creepy.”

“Not like that! I mean the culture, the slang, the way it’s its own little society interacting within a larger one!” Logan’s face had split into a grin as he talked, waving his hands excitedly.

Damian didn’t even resist urge to smile back. Seeing Logan like this, well, there was something contagious about it. He couldn’t help but feel slightly in awe of the passion he saw in Logan, “You really like this stuff, don’t you?”

Logan nodded vigorously, “Do you know the new word high schoolers today have invented and are using?”

“Hmm?” Damian prompted. Anything to keep Logan talking like this. Damian wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep Logan talking. It had something to do with the way warmth was spreading out from his core in a way that was far gentler than anything drinks could do.

“Yeet.”

In the adjoining room Damian could see two groups standing on opposite tables chanting “Yeet, Yeet, Yeet, Yeet” as they tossed a smaller student (who looked like they were having the time of their life) back and forth.

“Uhh, I think college kids use that too,” Damian didn’t want to burst Logan’s bubble but he felt like he was losing his mind. At any moment he was going to start cackling.

Logan paused, giving him a pointed stare, “Maybe you do.”

Damian broke. He collapsed forward, glad he had handed the bottle back as he wrapped his arms around his shaking body. He could hardly breathe but he couldn’t stop laughing either. His head was light and buzzing warmly. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but as tears started streaming out of his eyes, he knew he was officially drunk. Who gave a shit? That had been his goal, right?

He fell all the way down, letting his head land on Logan’s knee. He still couldn’t stop laughing even though it had developed solely into wheezes at that point.

Damian felt a hesitant hand tap on his back before actually settling there, “Are you ok?”

Damian sat up and wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, “Bro, you’re so judgmental.”

Logan’s face shifted from concern into a scowl, “Oh. Sorry.”

The heavy bass of whatever song was playing took over the space between them. Damian kept thinking about destroying that gap. All he would have to do would be lean over, rest himself against Logan, maybe fall asleep. Maybe it was the overpriced buzz in his head talking, but he felt safe around Logan.

Out of the blue, Logan stood up, adjusting the hem of his jacket as he turned to face Damian, “Well, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Maybe I’ll see you around campus sometime. You can finish that if you want.”

Damian looked down by his feet where Logan was pointing to the champagne bottle, “Wait, I don’t understand. You’re leaving? Where?”

Logan glanced around, looking anywhere but Damian’s face. Damian was used to that but this felt different. Logan was different. At least under usual circumstances, he knew why people so adamantly refused to acknowledge his existence. He made them uncomfortable; he didn’t like it, but he got it. Here, he was absolutely clueless.

Logan finally managed to make eye contact. He was trying for a smile but as an expert liar, Damian could see straight through to the grimace beneath, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find someone else who will tolerate my presence for a few moments.”

“Hey,” Damian acted on impulse. After all, Logan’s hand was just hanging there. It was far too empty. And at the moment, reaching forward to grab Logan’s wrist was Damian’s only way to insure that Logan wouldn’t walk away. He knew Logan was a smart guy and would probably see his honeyed whines as deception, but he had to try, “You’re really just going to get me drunk and then ditch me? Who knows what could happen?”

Logan’s eyebrows creased but he didn’t say anything. He looked like he was in pain, eyes sharp and teeth clenched behind a grimace. It was enough to make Damian drop his hand.

“Logan, it’s entirely your choice but if you would like to stay with me, I would enjoy that very much,” Truth wasn’t his strong suit, but he figured it was worth a try.

Logan squinted at him, confused or at least doubtful, “I thought you disliked my judgmental attitude.”

Damian groaned, “Dude... I didn’t mean it like that. I thought it was funny. I think you’re funny.”

“Oh,” Logan looked like he was having a hard time processing Damian’s words. It made him wonder just how many of those tequila shots Logan had thrown back before walking over. He had to be drunk. It was the only way to explain why he was acting so strange.

Damian reached out again and slowly pulled Logan back. He was hesitant but didn’t resist. Logan sat down next to Damian as if he didn’t understand his own actions. His eyes picked Damian apart like he was looking for the fine print.

“You’re sure you don’t mind me?” Logan’s expression was completely open. He was looking for the truth and Damian didn’t think he’d be able to lie if he wanted to. It was a good thing he didn’t need to.

He smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Ok,” Logan settled back into the couch but his eyebrows were still weaved together. Apparently his programs finished running because he suddenly turned to Damian, grinning brightly, “I’m glad.”

Damian smiled back. He was happy to see Logan with that sparkle back, if a little confused as to how he had caused it, “You’re glad... I don’t mind you?”

Logan nodded, “Some people think I’m a little strange.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Damian winced and tried to rush out his next words, “Not, like, I think you’re strange- I think you’re really cool. I just mean people think I’m strange too.”

Damian swore he could map constellations in the stars floating in Logan’s eyes, “You think I’m cool?”

He shrugged, “I mean, yeah. You always seem to have it all together and you have determination and goals and it’s so obvious that you’re going to reach them. That passion is rare to see any more. I mean, I don’t have any of that. You don’t know how much I looked up to you in that class.”

Logan blinked at him like a deer in headlights for a moment before he began frowning, “But you’re incorrect.”

Damian looked up from where had been trying to see how much champagne was left in the bottle, “What do you mean?”

“You obviously have passion. You always had points to bring up during discussions and it was clear you had deep interest in the topics. You don’t know how in awe of you I was. You always found the least likely angle to take and still managed to make a convincing argument,” Logan took the bottle out of Damian’s frozen hands and took a drink, “It was art.”

Damian opened his mouth but all memory of speech had escape him. He looked away, trying to find something safe to stare at while he tried to gather his thoughts. His head was full of fragments, dulled glass shards that floated through fog and bumped against the edges of his mind. It hurt to try to put them all back together into one piece.

So Logan had noticed him in that class. And had remembered him; quite clearly it seemed. Except the way he was talking... nobody had ever spoken to Damian that way before. He was tempted to ask Logan if he had mistaken him for someone else.

He found his eyes wandering down to the space between them. More accurately, he was staring at how little space there was between them. When Logan had sat down the second time, he had done so right next to Damian. Like, right next to him. Now their legs were pressed together, hips and knees bumping together every time one of them shifted. Damian marveled at the fact that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Damian?” He looked up into Logan’s concerned face. God, they were so close, “Are you ok? Your eyes kinda glazed over.”

Damian laughed. It sounded breathy and far away, “Yeah, I’m good.”

From another room, someone started yelling, “LAST 15 MINUTES OF THE YEAR!!”

Logan squinted down at his watch before glaring in the direction of the voice, “There’s only five minutes left.”

Damian chuckled, watching the lines of Logan’s frown as he grimaced at the sea of people around them. There was something endearing about the blunt disdain Logan had for the idiots around them. It was nice to know he didn’t fit into that group, that he had- by some miracle- managed to fit into Logan’s bubble.

“So... you usually celebrate New Years like this?” Logan had suddenly become quite fidgety, wringing his hands in his lap. Damian tried to ignore it. He was having a hard enough time working on his own thoughts; he couldn’t even begin picking apart Logan’s thoughts.

Damian shook his head, “You mean a party? Nah, I usually don’t even celebrate. What about you?”

“Same. I don’t generally go to parties at all.”

Ah, so Damian’s original impression had been correct, “So what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Logan deftly avoided the question with a smirk. Damn, he was good at this.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Some friends dragged me here. Now you tell me what a straight-laced nerd like you is doing in a place like this.”

Logan snorted, “Don’t remember the last time anyone described me as straight- anything.”

“What?”

“What?”

Damian wanted to shake his head like a dog getting out of water. Maybe then, the pieces would fall into some sort of pattern he could recognize. So Logan wasn’t straight. Why did that make him so happy?

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to gain some composure, “Ok, so what is someone like you doing in a place like this?”

Logan looked out across the crowd, his mouth a tight line. On the other side of the room someone took a running start and flung themselves on a pool table that had currently been in use. The thing cracked in half.  

“I was-,” Logan paused, hands tapping quickly against his leg, “-convinced.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, “I’ve never heard someone talk so ominously about going to a party; what is that even supposed to mean?”

Logan winced. His hands were doing full cardio now, clenching into fists over and over again, “I was told someone was going to be here. I just really wanted the chance to talk to him again.”

“But you’ve only talked to me.”

“Yes,” Logan gave him that stare again like Come on, dude, the puzzle pieces are right there- just put them together. He rubbed his eyes in his hands, “Maybe this was a mistake. I didn’t mean to get you drunk. I thought you’d still be able to figure out-“

Click.

Damian’s mouth fell, “Wait, I’m the one you wanted to talk to?”

Logan gave him a small smile. It was the first time Damian had seen him look unsure of himself, “Well, yeah.”

“Oh,” Damian’s head was swimming. He could have blamed it on the champagne or how late it was or the way the lighting had began strobing, flickering between bright neon shades. But he knew that wasn’t it. He couldn’t lie this time- not even to himself.

Logan’s eyes were wide, staring into Damian. Not into his eyes- him. It was unnerving in the best way possible. The shifting light played across his irises, making them every colour of the rainbow.

“Is that ok?”

Logan’s voice startled him back to the present. He had leaned forward, supposedly to be heard above the shouting that had started. Amongst all of the raised voices, Logan’s had only gotten lower. His breath played against Damian’s ear.

Damian looked up, startled slightly but smiling, “Yeah, yeah, that’s good. That’s great.”

Logan smiled, “Yeah? Great?”

He was definitely leaning forward.

Damian huffed out a sigh but smiled even wider, “Shut up. I’m pretty sure you’re drunk.”

Logan scoffed, “And you’re not? You’re a total lightweight.”

“Shut up.”

“TEN!”

The entire house shook as the ridiculous number of students began screaming in unison

“You know, it’s also tradition to kiss someone on New Years,” Logan looked infuriatingly smug.

“NINE!”

Damian usually hated this part, everyone around him creating one huge voice- everyone but him.

Damian raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking to kiss me?”

“EIGHT!”

What he always hated most was the way the entire world seemed to be celebrating- without him. The whole damn planet filled with joy for one tiny moment and he could never figure out why.

Logan smiled like the Cheshire Cat- except the Cheshire Cat had just won the lottery, “Maybe.”

“SEVEN!”

At this point, his heart rate usually would have been spiking, feeling the pressure of “new opportunities” pressing all their expectant eyes on him.

Damian laughed, “Did you come over to talk to me just so you could get a kiss tonight?”

“SIX!”

There was always a part of Damian that would scorn him for not being happy, question why he had turned out to be such a sad, useless lump while everyone else was happily looking forward to the future.

“No,” Logan set his jaw like a stubborn toddler, “I came over here to talk to you so I could get a kiss from you tonight.”

“FIVE!”

No matter what he did, the New Year would plague him. His whole apartment complex would rattle as chanting counted down. The first hours of the year would often find Damian wandering through empty streets, desperate to escape the celebration.

Logan slid his hand onto Damian’s knee, “So can I? Kiss you?”

“FOUR!”

The whole event was just one monstrous reminder. It was an ugly mar on the calendar that whispered Look at all the things you’ve ruined. Look at how far you’ve fallen. Look at how little your future holds.

Damian nodded dumbly. His heart was pounding in his ears.

“THREE!”

New Year made him think of his parents. He always put on a bright mask for them, feeding them lies of empty aspirations and opportunities that didn’t exist. How would they feel to know their son was barreling headfirst into a dead end?

Damian was learning he didn’t need alcohol; Logan was intoxicating enough. The shine in his eyes, the self-satisfied tug to his lips, the way he kept getting closer and closer- it made Damian’s thoughts slow to a halt and everything around him lose focus.

“TWO!”

Every year, the day after would be exactly like the day before. Everyone else seemed to be determined to make themselves better. As much as he searched, Damian could never find the ways to change. New Years was usually taunting, reminding him that he would always be broken and would never be able to fix himself.

Logan’s hands played across his chest, smoothed over his shoulder, ran through his hair. His eyes found Damian’s soul. Damian couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“ONE!!”

Damian had always hated New Years.

Logan leaned all the way forward and his lips were on Damian’s. It was deeper than Damian was expecting, both of their mouths slightly open. Logan kept surging forward with his whole body, destroying the few inches left between them. Damian happily followed his lead, mindlessly falling into synchronous rhythm as Logan kept moving his lips. Except it wasn’t just his lips; Logan kissed with his whole body. He leaned against Damian and his hands were always roaming, leaving little touches as they danced over Damian’s body.

Sure, Damian had kissed other guys before. But he was pretty sure this was the first time anyone had kissed him.

One of Logan’s hands found its way to Damian’s face. His fingers tapped lightly across his birthmark. Damian remembered the kids who stared without shame, the eyes that would dart away as soon as they saw him, the way he could never hold a conversation without his birthmark joining as an unwanted guest star. Logan hadn’t done any of that. Damian had no words to describe what that man was but he liked it.

Damian broke away, completely out of breath. He had no idea how long they had been kissing- it could have been hours for all he knew- but his lungs didn’t have the same luxury of losing track.

Logan’s chest was heaving as it pressed against Damian’s side. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring a million miles away.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes regained their sharp focus. He smiled brightly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You’re a dork. But really,” Damian sighed, “thank you.”

Logan gave him a puzzled smile, “What for?”

“I’m pretty sure this is the first New Year I’ve ever actually enjoyed,” Damian snuggled himself closer to Logan, smiling when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders.

Logan spoke with measured, careful words, “If you like, we could, you know, make our own New Years tradition out of this.”

Damian could feel his eyelids falling and rising every time he blinked like the great velvet currents of a theatre. They were heavy and he was warm and his head was a vague haze. He yawned widely and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist, “I don’t think we have to wait until New Year to do this again.”

He fell asleep listening to Logan stuttering out some happy response. Maybe New Years wasn’t so bad.

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