#moceitweek2025

“Alright, I can’t stand it anymore. What is going on between those two?” 

It’s Roman who breaks the silent trance that’s befallen the room. The three of them, Roman, Virgil, and Logan, are sat on the L-shaped couch in the living room of the Mindscape (specifically the core sides area.) They’ve been quiet, perfectly still, for probably only four minutes, but it feels as though it’s been hours. The group stare helplessly into the kitchen, through the gap in the wall that separates the two spaces. The reason for their awkward silence is within that kitchen.

Janus, in their space, in their half, leaning against their kitchen countertop, and laughing. He has his head thrown back, beaming unabashedly. And it’s scary. It’s actually sort of terrifying. Janus doesn’t laugh, not like that. He snickers, or he cackles (usually at the misfortune of others.) If he finds something genuinely amusing he’ll offer a small hum, or a nod of approval. But here he is, in their kitchen, sharp fangs glinting in the overhead light before he smacks a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. A horrifying mimic of the way he shut others up. 

All because of Patton. Something Patton had said. Patton, who’s perched at the kitchen table, holding a mug of coffee between both hands, beaming with pride. No one else had caught what he said, but fucking hell it must have been funny, because no one makes Janus laugh like that. Well, except maybe-

Logan goes to answer Roman’s question, a simple who knows? But finds the words cut from his tongue as they watch Janus move to lean across the table, and Patton tilts his chin up, and for just a second it looks as though the two might kiss — before Janus claps his palm over Patton’s shoulder and mutters: “Good one, Morality,” before straightening his spine. He pats Patton’s shoulder once more before swiftly vacating the kitchen, waving as he goes. And Patton smiles, waves back, and sinks out, presumably to his room.

Virgil swallows back the boulder sized lump in his throat. “I have no fucking idea,” he finally answers, “but I hated that.”

Next to him, Logan finally finds the ability to speak. Roman shakes his head and lays his palms over his temples, rubbing beside his hairline. “I don’t understand the nature of their… friendship? Are they friends?” 

Roman groans, long and low and distraught. When he looks up from where he’s been staring at his lap, his brows are knit together. No one moves to ask what’s wrong, still staring blankly at the empty space where Janus and Patton once were. So Roman moans again, louder this time, much more anguished. He tilts his head back and practically wails, and Virgil jumps in response.

“What? Dude, what is it?” 

“There’s one side aside from Patton and Janus who’ll understand their relationship,” Roman laments, head still tipped back on his neck. His brain feels full of bricks, his eyes closing in a pained wince. 

“Well, who?” Logan questions, “I can’t imagine anyone knowing the depths of their… strange dynamic better than themselves. After all, they’re the ones who are involved.”

Roman holds up his hand, the movement slow and sluggish. Reluctant. Like it pains him as he flicks his wrist and announces with a grimace, “Remus.”

“Ah,” Logan mutters rather inarticulately. There’s a crackle of electricity, and then the Duke appears with a loud squelching sound. He’s dripping with something, something thick and viscous and black like tar- maybe it is tar. No one would put it past him to coat himself with such a substance.

“Hey!” Remus drawls, more of the black sludge slopping out of his mouth and onto the floor by Virgil’s feet. Said side grimaces and flinches away, curling his legs up onto the couch to avoid it. “You guys never summon me! Don’t mind the mess… I was creating-”

“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” Roman waves his hand in front of his face, as though attempting fruitlessly to brush Remus away. His face contorts as Remus swipes the sludge from his face and tosses it Roman’s way, who squeals and ducks. Gross. “We just- we have a question for you. It’s- it’s about Janus and Patton.”

Remus’ face lights up like a Christmas tree, and he shakes himself much like a wet dog, the tar-like substance flying from his clothes as he does. It dissolves in the air before it can hit anyone. “Hit me! I’m always happy to talk about Double-Dicked-Dee and Daddy Dearest!”

Remus throws himself rather unceremoniously onto the couch, smacking a hand over Logan’s knee to steady himself as he lands between the logical side and Virgil. Virgil wriggles away with a grunt, clearly unhappy with this outcome. “Isn’t there anyone else we can ask?” He hisses Roman’s way, incidentally baring his teeth.

“Who else is there to ask?” Logan inquires, though it goes mostly unnoticed. Remus is vibrating in place beside him, scratching at his knees and tapping his fingers insistently off Logan’s leg.

Roman fans his hand out, albeit begrudgingly. “Remus, just as simply as you possibly can. What on Zeus’ green Earth is going on between Patton and Janus? Please.”

Remus’ devilish smile only grows, getting more and more wicked with each passing second. Virgil rubs a hand over his face. “So… you know friends with benefits?”

Logan groans. He does have that written down on a note-card somewhere. He’s not too fond of where this is going.

“Well, think of them less as friends with benefits and more divorced with benefits.” 

“They’ve never been married,” Logan points out, although that seems to be the least of the other two’s concern, as both their jaws have opened so wide they may dislocate. Roman’s eyes look to be about thirty seconds away from popping out of his head. Remus thinks he might quite enjoy that sight.

“Ah, Teach, they don’t have to be. They’re divorced though. They were never married, they haven’t dated. But they’re divorced. They’re divorced, and they’re not even really fucking, but they are getting freaky-”

“Enough!” Roman insists, snapping his mouth closed with a loud clack of teeth.

Virgil hisses into his palms which had at some point come up to cover his face, trembling. “Why did we even ask? Why?”

“You don’t wanna know why I called him Double Dic-?”

“Shut up, Remus!” 

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