#violet writes fic

LIVE

Virgil goes on an adventure with his ex-boyfriend.

His very, very sedated ex-boyfriend.

Pairing: romantic anxceit

Word count: 3050

Warnings: reconciling with your ex, sedation/medical drugs

Notes: a commission for @creative-lampd-liberties!

thank you to @airiervessel for beta-reading!

—

Virgil did not sulk, no matter what Patton said.

At worst, he brooded, but really Virgil thought he was being completely reasonable in his distaste for the situation he found himself in.

Virgil was lucky enough – and he meant lucky only in the right light – to have stayed relatively close with his high school friends through the years after, enough that he’d been happy to move in with Patton when he’d graduated college and moved back to town.

Unfortunately, this meant he was still in the same friend group as Janus.

Most of the time, it didn’t bother him – or at least, he was capable of ignoring the aching scar of his first real broken heart most of the time as long as he didn’t think about it too hard and only ever hung around Janus with at least two additional people as a buffer between them. They were both coolly civil to each other, with only the occasional snip when one of them had a bad day (and wasn’t that a fresh twinge, that Virgil could still always tell, even five years later, when Janus was having a bad day and didn’t mean the defensive reflex of his sniping), and Virgil had learned to live with it.

So of course, the universe proceeded to conspire to get Virgil alone with Janus, because it just could not leave well enough alone.

Janus had taken an Uber to the hospital in the middle of the night – Remus, his roommate, was out of town, and it just so happened that so were Patton and Roman. Frantic calls had been made, but to no avail; it was noon the next day, and Janus was coming out of anesthetic from the emergency surgery to remove his gallbladder, and there was no one who could come get him from the hospital.

No one, that is, except Virgil.

Patton insisted that this, and the fact that Janus had to have someone stay with him for the next twenty four hours while the anesthetic wore off, was a good thing. Patton seemed to think that Virgil and Janus ought to still be good friends still, that they would “get along if they just gave each other a chance” and other such good-hearted nonsense born of misplaced hope.

Fat chance.

Virgil pulled into the parking lot with a scowl, climbing out of the car and making his way toward the pick up entrance with his hands stuffed in his pockets, not sulking. Remus was Janus’s emergency contact, and he’d been on the phone with the hospital on and off for the past couple of hours, making sure Janus would be ready to go when Virgil arrived.

And then Virgil would be taking Janus back to his own apartment, where he’d be playing nursemaid to his ex-boyfriend for the next twenty-four hours while he came down off of the anesthetic. Virgil also had no idea how Janus reacted to anesthetic, so he was going in completely blind.

He looked around the lobby – Janus and the nurse should be around here somewhere-

Virgil saw Janus before Janus saw him, but not by much. Virgil had a handful of seconds to take in a disheveled, noodle-necked Janus looking wide-eyed and gaping around the room like he was in a zoo and not a hospital lobby before Janus saw him.

And lit up like a fireworks show.

Virgil actually, mortifyingly, stumbled a bit. Janus began to frantically tap the nurse and point at Virgil as he made his way over, coming close enough just in time to hear the tail end of Janus’s breathless, giggly rant.

“-Myboyfriend,Kaylie, Kaylie, Kaylie, that’s my boyfriend Virgil, isn’t he handsome and pretty and perfect and-”

“I take it you’re Virgil Caballero?”

“I, uh- yeah,” croaked Virgil, feeling flushed with embarrassment and off-kilter and not a bit nauseous. Janus was still beaming, a completely uncharacteristic expression, only now he was reaching for Virgil with wiggly grabby hands and giggling sweetly. The scar in Virgil’s heart throbbed.

“Um- Hey, Janus,” he said nervously. He awkwardly grabbed Janus’s hand for a handshake like weirdo, only for Janus to pull hard with all the strength in his sedated body and burrow his head into Virgil’s sternum with his arms around Virgil’s waist and hum contentedly, nuzzling.

Virgil’s face felt like he’d been standing in front of an open fire and his chest was squirming with nerves and a very peculiar kind of confused heartache that he thought he’d given up years ago.

Trust Janus to be confusing, even five years later.

“We gotta go to the car, Janus,” said Virgil, trying to peel him off.

“Carry me!” said Janus cheerfully, looking up at Virgil with big, pleading eyes, and any minuscule resistance Virgil might have had crumbled like a sandcastle in the tide.

“Sure,” he said quietly.

Janus hadn’t grown much since high school, but the same could not be said for Virgil, so looping Janus’s bag over his shoulder and carefully scooping him into his arms was easier than it had been even when they were eighteen and hopelessly enamored of each other and it had been Janus’s favorite way of getting around. Virgil was careful not to jostle him too much, anxious of the incision, but Janus seemed perfectly comfortable, nuzzling into Virgil’s shoulder with a happy sigh.

You’re gonna kill me, Jay, Virgil thought helplessly.

Virgil carefully set him in the passenger seat, squeezing his eyes shut when Janus’s tiny, unhappy whine sent a lance of pain through his chest. Swallowing hard, he leaned across to buckle Janus into the seat.

Janus’s soft hand slipped up the side of Virgil’s neck, playful and tender, cupping his jaw and turning his head and Virgil didn’t have time to process the action before their mouths met softly and all thought flew out of his head like a bird out a window.

It was exactly the same – it was so utterly, completely different. Their lips fit together differently, the shape of their mouths and faces sharpened and filled out with age, but the way Virgil wanted to wrap Janus in his arms and kiss him through a dozen sunrises hadn’t changed at all, the way his heart immediately wanted to climb out of his chest and set itself throbbing in Janus’s palms to do whatever he wanted with was as familiar as a worn, comfortable sweater.

Janus’s other hand tangled in Virgil’s hair, humming sweetly into Virgil’s mouth, and the sound jolted Virgil out of the bliss like an electric shock, making him jerk back with a gasp.

Janus pouted, big warm eyes and bronze-brown skin making him look like an angel as he whined and tugged on Virgil’s hoodie.

Or a tempting demon, Virgil thought a little hysterically.

“I- uh,” Virgil choked, voice cracking as he pulled Janus’s hands off of him, “I shouldn’t- Jay, I shouldn’t kiss you right now. You’re not- you’re not in your right mind, you’re on anesthetic right now, remember?”

Janus’s pout deepened, but he sighed long-sufferingly and nodded.

“Kisses after?” he said, visibly hopeful.

“I…”

Virgilhurt, a sharp, undeniable ache, but the past ten minutes had finally put to rest something he’d been agonizing over for half a decade.

He was just as much of a whipped sap for Janus as he’d been at eighteen.

“Yeah, sure,” he said quietly, quickly pulling Janus’s hands off of him and clamoring to his feet to shut the door behind him and bury his face in his hands.

It was gonna be a long twenty-four hours.

—

Janus was rambly and delighted with everything from the scenery to the fabric of the seats on the way to Virgil’s house, but more than anything, he was delighted with Virgil.

Virgil’s hair, Virgil’s eyes, Virgil’s clothes and skin and voice and expressions and “good heart” and “brave soul” and by the time they pulled into the parking lot of Virgil’s apartment Virgil knew he was well and truly fucked.

Janus’s joy was irresistibly magnetic. He asked to be carried into the house again and Virgil complied; he asked for a hug as Virgil set him on the couch and Virgil knelt on the floor and wrapped him carefully in his arms to hold him close, feeling the warmth and softness of him.

Virgil had tipped straight over a cliff into a pit of utter infatuation and resurrected feelings that had probably never been properly dead at all, and by hour two he’d pretty much resigned himself to his fate.

True to his word, he didn’t let Janus kiss him again, but other things were harder to deny him. Laced fingers, gold-on-brown, letting Janus curl up on the couch with his head in Virgil’s lap, stroking his face with a single finger and hearing him sigh so happily, like Virgil cherishing him was bliss.

Virgil didn’t know what had gotten scrambled in Janus’s brain that he thought they were still together, that he was acting like this – but if all Virgil was going to get was these last few hours until the anesthetic fully wore off, then he wasn’t going to look an incredibly bittersweet gift horse in the mouth.

Janus dozed off eventually, and Virgil took the opportunity to get up and make dinner. Plain food, easy on his stomach – Janus had always had stomach problems, and the idea that if anyone had taken him seriously all these years he might not have had to get an entire organ removed was a little annoying. But Virgil knew what Janus liked, and what Janus liked but shouldn’t have. The tightly locked chest in which Virgil had been keeping all his thoughts and feelings and memorized details of Janus, Janus, Janus for five long years had basically had an ax taken to it at this point, overflowing and spilling into every corner of his mind in search of empty space to fill with his soft, fond feelings.

Infuriating, is what it was.

When he finally came back with two bowls of cooling soup, he had every intention of setting it on the coffee table and gently waking Janus to eat.

Unfortunately Janus was already awake.

Awake, curled in a miserable ball and weeping in his silent, stoic way, completely inaudible from the kitchen, the sight making Virgil’s stomach land at his feet like a bowling ball of lead.

“Hey,hey, Jay, baby, what’s wrong?” he rushed out, setting down the soup and kneeling beside him.

“You don’t have to do that,” choked Janus.

“… Make you soup?” said Virgil, cupping his cheek and wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.

“You’re not my boyfriend,” said Janus, leaning away.

Tensing, Virgil’s hand froze in the air, and then fell.

“… No, I’m not.”

Janus’s sob redoubled, and hot, sparking frustration was swirling with a rushing tide of hurt,making Virgil want to groan and tear his hair out.

“Jay,” he said, trying hard not to grit his teeth, “I don’t understand why you’re upset. You broke up with me.”

“It’s not like I wanted to!” Janus wailed.

“Wh- what does that even mean- Jay, c’mon, sweetheart, don’t cry-”

“I had to so you weren’t just- stuck in your hometown forever, giving up your fancy scholarship for a boy,”Janus scoffed wetly. He leaned into Virgil’s hands like a miserable, needy cat, preening under the attention. Virgil’s heart felt frozen in astonishment even as that frustration kept catching in his chest like fire.

“You- we could have figured something out, you shouldn’t have just- made that call for me, Jay.”

“You hate long distance,”

Virgil blinked.

“… I have pretty much no opinions about long distance relationships,” said Virgil incredulously, “Where- where did you even get that idea?”

“You said so, at Sabina Drake’s house party,” sniffed Janus, “You said you just didn’t get how one could ever work.”

Virgil blinked at him in confusion.

The frustration twisted hard, inside-out like a sock until Virgil was just shaking his head, shoulders trembling with gobsmacked, frustrated laughter.

“So what you’re telling me,” said Virgil, “Is that you broke up with me for what you thought was my own good, over a comment I made about long-distance relationships when we were fourteen?”

Janus just kept looking at him with that miserable, drowned-kitten look.

“You’re an idiot,” said Virgil softly, stroking his cheek, “We’re gonna eat some soup, and you’re gonna go to bed, and I am going to yell at you so loud in the morning when you’re not drugged up and precious and making me want to cuddle the shit out of you. You asshole.”

“Huh?”

“Soup,” said Virgil, giving in to the impulse to kiss him on the cheek, “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay? Promise.”

At that, Janus ignored the offered soup in favor of gaping up at Virgil with huge, starstruck eyes and softly parted lips. Virgil was dying.

Happily dying.

—

Virgil let Janus take his bed, because he was a sucker, but his couch was old and worn comfortable, so it wasn’t that bad. Stretching as he sat up, he anxiously eyed his bedroom door, wondering if Janus was awake, if he was sobered up, if he remembered all they’d talked about, if he’d meant everything he said, if he was going to go back to the cold, stiff stranger he’d been for the past five years or if Virgil was finally going to have him back-

Virgil scrubbed his face hard, bracing himself.

Only one way to find out.

“Jay?” he called, knocking on the door.

A sharp swear, and the sound of something knocking against the bed frame.

“Can I come in?”

A strained silence.

“I suppose,” said Janus stiffly.

Virgil pushed open the door, to find a sleep-disheveled, fidgeting Janus standing in pajamas and socks in the middle of Virgil’s room – his feet always did get cold – looking mortified and awkward.

“… Morning,” said Virgil, stepping cautiously into the room.

“Good morning,” said Janus, his voice cracking audibly halfway through and his eyes fixed firmly on the wall.

Anxiety and hope swirled in Virgil’s gut. He took another careful handful of steps forward, and Janus didn’t move away, which he was counting as a good sign.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, gnawing his lip.

“Wh-? I- fine,” stammered Janus, glancing at Virgil for a moment only for his face to contort and look away again, “Did- did you?”

Janus… Janus was flustered, Virgil realized, embarrassed that he’d been so vulnerable the day before. Janus had been openly affectionate, some people might have even called it clingy, dramatic in his affection when they’d been together, but even then he’d always gotten like this after any real emotion got thrown around.

Usually when they were alone, because those moments had always been just for Virgil.

The corners of Virgil’s mouth were twitching involuntarily, aching to twist into a proper smile. He finally came close enough to touch, steeling himself for a moment before reaching for Janus’s hand, squeezing it tenderly in his own.

“Hnrgk,” choked Janus.

Virgil’s smile widened. Tugging them closer, face to face, it became a grin, as Janus looked at him with a wide-eyed flustered expression.

“You feeling okay, Jay?” he said, smirking a bit.

Janus’s face screwed up in indignation, smacking Virgil lightly on the arm.

“You-! You are picking on me, you complete asshole!”

“Eh, maybe a bit,” said Virgil.

Janus moved to smack him again and Virgil caught it, sliding fingers down Janus’s wrist until he was holding both Janus’s hands in his. He lifted one, pressing it to his cheek and absolutely beaming when Janus squeaked in response.

“Maybe more than a bit,” he admitted, “Still want me to kiss you?”

“Virgil,”whined Janus.

“C’mon, Jay,” Virgil murmured, “It’s just me.”

Janus’s face softened like sunrise into twilight, twisting his hands out of Virgil’s grip to reach up and cup his face.

“There is not, and never has been,” said Janus wetly, “Anything just about you.”

If there was one thing Virgil could say about Sober Janus’s kissing as opposed to Drugged Up Janus, it was that Sober Janus somehow managed to have even more enthusiasm – maybe because he actually remembered that the two of them hadn’t been doing all that much kissing for the past half a decade.

They were so close Virgil could feel Janus’s knees trembling against his, so he gathered him close and sank to the floor, where Janus crawled straight into his lap like he belonged there.

They broke apart with twin breathless gasps, Janus still cupping his jaw. They pressed their foreheads together, sharing their breath, and Virgil ran his hands up and down Janus’s back in soothing, grounding strokes.

“I missed you,” Janus whispered.

“Shouldn’t have made me leave then, dumbass,” Virgil murmured back.

“Rest assured - I will not be making the same self-sacrificing mistake twice,” said Janus, pecking Virgil’s face in between the words.

“How about just talking to me next time?”

“Not my strong suit.”

“I mean it, Jay,” said Virgil, “I- I wanna try again, I do, but you can’t just- make calls for both of us like that again, okay?”

“I won’t,” said Janus softly, “I’m not going to do anything that might let you escape my clutches ever again, you are stuck with me for life,Caballero-”

“Big promise, Bellmont.”

“It’s a threat, is what it is.”

“Ooh, I’m very scared,” teased Virgil, reaching up to play with a lock of Janus’s hair and smirking when he leaned into it.

“You should be,” said Janus mulishly, looking every bit a windswept kitten in his rumpled pajamas and fuzzy socks.

“Shaking in my boots,” said Virgil fondly, drawing a line with his knuckle down Janus’s cheeks, smile widening as he felt the skin warm, “Get back in bed, oh mighty gallbladder-less one.”

“Breakfast?”

“I’ll bring it to you.”

“But then you have to go,” whined Janus.

“You’re a spoiled brat,” muttered Virgil, “Fine. We’ll make breakfast together.”

And when Patton came home to a kitchen covered in syrup, egg, and flour, Virgil and Janus feeding each other sticky forkfuls of pancake, and just crossed his arms with a smug smile, all Virgil could do was stick his tongue out at him.

—

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#anxceit #ts virgil #ts janus #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #violet writes fic #romantic anxceit

@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors

Tue, 07 Jun 2022 10:32:15

By their nature, surprises come from the most unexpected places.

Pairing: romantic dukeceit, parental dukeceit & Remus’s sash (yes I did personify a piece of fabric no I am not taking constructive criticism lol)

Word count: 2726

Warnings: fantasy discrimination against a child.

Notes: takes place 2 years after the end of CTS

thank you to @wisherbysharlight for beta-reading

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (Coming) | Epilogue (Coming)

—

“Mr. Remus, can I have more glitter?”

“Yeah sure, kid,” said Remus, ruffling Natalie’s hair.

“Not gonna be able to see the picture if you keep addin’ glitter, Tallie.” said Jeremy.

“Hey, she can add all the glitter she wants.” Remus assured them.

It was hot in the orphanage, but bearable with the windows and door open to allow breezes through. Remus kept glancing up to look through the breezeway to the entrance hall to double check the screen door had the child latch firmly in place, but considering Dahlia was at the front desk anyway and unlikely to let a kid through, he was mostly just being paranoid.

For the third time in the past fifteen minutes, a high, miserable cry came from the next room over, the toddlers’ playroom. Remus frowned, craning to try and see, but couldn’t see who it was. He then heard the sharp voice of the attendant snapping at the child.

That wasn’t normal. None of the staff had ever been this short with a child; they all helped, but this orphanage was Janus’s darling project, and he never would have allowed it.

Speaking of Janus, he came through just then, a clipboard and pen in hand.

“Hey, Jan, can you come here?” said Remus.

“Sure, I’m not in a rush,” said Janus, coming over and leaning down to peck Remus on the cheek where he was crouched absurdly on the tiny elementary school sized chairs. Remus gestured him closer.

“There’s something going on in the toddler room,” he muttered, “Can you go look?”

“Of course,” said Janus, kissing him on the cheek again.

Remus watched him go with a frown, anxious and unsettled.

—

Janus knew as soon as he entered the room which child Remus was worried about.

Off in the corner, sniffling and morose, was a brown-skinned little girl with tightly coiled black hair pulled back into two high, slightly lopsided puffs. She had her tiny fist buried in her eyes, making heartbroken little sounds-

-And the caretaker and both nursery attendants were on the other side of the room, guiding other, perfectly happy children through coloring, ignoring her.

Janus scowled. Shift two, toddler room. He made a note to point them out to the matron.

He crossed over to the little girl, crouching down.

“Hello there,” he said softly, “What’s your name?”

She sniffled, looking up at him with dark eyes.

“S-Sasha,” she said quietly.

“Hello, Sasha. Why are you crying?”

“S’hot,” she whined.

Janus frowned.

… It was hot. All the other children were in shorts and t-shirts and sandals. But while Sasha’s overalls were a reasonable length, her sleeves were long, making uncomfortable memories swirl in Janus’s mind.

“Well, let’s get you some more comfortable clothes,” he said, “May I pick you up?”

“O’tay,” she said, lifting her arms.

Scooping her up, Janus strode over to attendants.

“Excuse me,” he said sharply.

The three of them looked up, immediately paling.

“Which toddler dormitory is Sasha’s?” he said, “I am changing her into something cooler.”

“You- you can’t,” one of them blurted.

“I beg your pardon?” he said coldly.

The three attendants exchanged nervous looks.

“I- you’ll have to talk to the matron,” said the second, “She- she said Sasha has to be dressed like that.”

Narrowing his eyes at them, Janus turned and made his way down the hall to the matron’s office.

Whatever reasoning she’d had for it, Janus was overturning it. It was completely unreasonable to expect a child so small to tolerate this heat in such an outfit. Sasha couldn’t be more than two.

“Carla,” called Janus, rapping sharply on her office door.

“Come in!”

She was seated at the desk, and when she looked up her face immediately dropped from friendly to anxious.

“Hello, Janus. And little Sasha.”

She smiled softly, wiggling her fingers, and Sasha shyly waved back. After the display from the other attendants, Janus was a bit mollified, but not by much.

“Where are Sasha’s lighter clothes?” he said, keeping his voice light and pretending no concern, “She’s hot.”

Carla’s smile strained for a moment, before falling completely, her face coming to rest in her hands.

“… Well?”

“Sasha has to wear the long sleeves,” said Carla, “For her own safety.”

“How on earth is giving a toddler heatstroke for her own safety?”

“She came to us last week,” said Carla, “From another orphanage, several cities away. The older children… they were treating her unkindly.”

“Well, whoever you have on the current shift for the toddler room isn’t doing much better,” scowled Janus.

Carla’s lip curled in frustration.

“Itold them, I- we just don’t have the staff to keep her by herself, Janus.”

“Why?”

“Sasha’s soulmark is on her wrist,” said Carla, “And it’s gray.”

Janus’s breath rushed out of him like he’d been punched in the stomach. Sasha whimpered, and he realized he’d clutched her tighter in panic.

“Itold all the staff they had better not treat her any differently,” said Carla helplessly, “This- I’m not running a church here, none of that ‘cursed’ idiocy. I thought they all understood.”

Janus, swallowed, and Sasha burrowed down into his neck and yawned, her face round and beautiful and innocent, unknowing.

“… Her parents?” he managed, strangled. If he learned she’d been abandoned for this, he wasn’t sure he’d live through it.

“By all accounts doting and devoted,” Carla sighed, “Until they died. No living relatives.”

Janus rubbed her back.

“Bring a playpen in here.”

“Janus, I can’t watch her and do my work.” said Carla.

“Can you do it if I double your pay?”

“While your impulse to throw money at your problems is adorable, it still doesn’t give me the ability to break the laws of physics,” she said, not unkindly.

Janus swallowed hard, clutching the little girl to his chest.

This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t okay.

“Call someone else in,” he said quietly, cupping the back of Sasha’s warm neck, “Someone you trust, to add to the toddler room shift. Twice the standard short-notice pay.”

“… Alright,” said Carla, “I’ll try to find someone.”

“And she’s not wearing this. It’s making her sick.”

Carla winced, but offered up her hands.

“I’ll go switch her clothes out,” she said, “And- and I’ll keep her in here until someone gets in for the toddler room. Okay? I’m sorry,Janus.”

“No, I- I understand,” he managed.

Sasha had somehow managed to fall asleep, and as Janus passed her over her little fists clung to his shirt. His chest ached like an open wound as he watched Carla carry her away.

He stood alone in the office, stomach churning, wondering what he was going to do.

He left, already knowing.

—

Janus had rushed through a goodbye with Remus and left the orphanage in a flurry of fretting hands, which was not his usual M.O. at all. Remus’s shift with the elementary schoolers ended a couple of hours later, and he was still frowning as he climbed in the back of the car.

“Home, Sir?”

“Yeah, Darian, home,” he said pensively, frowning out the window.

When he got to their rooms, he thumbed the doorknob, wondering what he was going to find inside. Pushing it open, he was glad he hadn’t guessed.

Janus had what must have been more than half their personal bookshelf scattered on the floor, some of them stacked, some of them open, Janus sitting in the middle of them and flipping frantically through pages, gnawing on his bottom lip nervously.

“Oh, boy.”

“Remus!” startled Janus, “I- I’m sorry, I meant to clean up-”

“Nope,” said Remus with a pop, carefully weaving between the books to grab Janus around the waist and heave him over his shoulder.

“YeEP, dammit-”

Remus slid into the bay window seat and moved Janus into his lap.

“Spill,” he said, “What’s wrong?”

Janus groaned, letting his head fall forward to bonk off of Remus’s shoulder.

“What’s with the books?” Remus tried.

“They’re… they’re everything we have about gray marks,” said Janus quietly.

Remus frowned.

“Was someone a dick to you?” he said sharply.

“No, of course not,” said Janus, “Hardly anyone even remembers.”

“Were they a dick to someone else?”

Janus bit the inside of his cheek hard, and Remus knew he’d landed right on the money.

“… The girl,” said Janus, his voice almost inaudible, “The one you were worried about this morning. Sasha. Her mark is gray. That’s why the attendants were ignoring her. It’s why she was in long sleeves. To hide it.”

Remus’s heart felt cold and aching.

“She… but she’s a baby?” he said, pained and incredulous.

“It’s why she’s there at all,” continued Janus miserably, “She’s from halfway across Edmeyer. The older children there, they… and Carla tried to nip it in the bud here, but even the employees-”

“Did you fire them?”

“They got reprimands from me and from Carla. She said she was looking for replacements, but it’s just- we just don’t have the hands.”

“I feel like ‘mean to children’ has gotta be a one-and-done offense for working in an orphanage,Jan.”

“What if we took her?”

Janus couldn’t have stunned him more if he’d literally punched him square in the mouth. Remus blinked stupidly at him, gaping, and Janus wrung his hands nervously.

“I- I mean, think about it,” he said, “Who, really, is going to be better at understanding a child born with a gray mark, which means she’s probably aromantic- my mark was gray, and you’re arospectrum, and- and I know we’ve never planned on adopting, we’ve always talked about having children the usual way but I don’t- I don’t think it matters, really, how we get them if we love her, and- and I would, I think, I think we could love her, she was so sad-”

“Yes!” Remus blurted.

Janus blinked.

“W-wait, what?”

“Yes, Jan, holy shit, yes!” Remus laughed.

Janus let out an incredulous laugh.

“… Even though I totally sprung an entire child on you out of nowhere?”

“I mean, how is this more springing than ‘Hey Ree, I’m full of fetus-”

“Please don’t call our children fetuses,” Janus giggled.

“Then this one’s perfect, she is definitely well out of the fetus stage.”

“Terrible, you’re terrible,” said Janus, beaming, his voice cracking and his eyes filling with tears, “Really?”

“Really,” said Remus, pressing a loud smack of a kiss to Janus’s mouth, “We’ll go tomorrow and tell Carla.”

“You haven’t even met her.”

“Jan,” said Remus, cupping his face, “You already love her. I can tell. She could be a fire-breathing dragon baby and I’d take her home and give her dolls and kisses and all the pink dresses she wants.”

“I’m going to have to be the responsible father, aren’t I?”

Remus grinned.

“We’re gonna be dads.”

“Meet her first,” said Janus, but Remus could already see the hope dawning in his eyes.

Remus loved Sasha already too, for putting that look in his husbands eyes.

—

Janus had no idea what one wore to formally meet a two-year-old under any circumstances, let alone one you hoped in any capacity to adopt. A fondly exasperated Patton had made him change out of the silk formal-wear and into a soft t-shirt tucked in wide-leg pants, and then gone into Remus’s dressing room, presumably to do the same. Remus came out in his favorite paint-stained smock and tattered jeans.

“I don’t want her to think we aren’t taking it seriously,” Janus said stiffly.

“Janny, hon,” said Patton, amused, “She’s two.”

And, well. Janus couldn’t really argue with that.

Carla had been genuinely delighted they were considering adopting Sasha. Janus didn’t dare ask for fear the answer would gut him, but he got the impression that in the year Sasha had been an orphan, not many, if any, families had wanted to try taking her in.

This playroom was small, used only for this purpose, the toys newer and less worn. Sasha was already there with Carla, who pointed them out when they walked in. Sasha looked up, curious and adorable, and Janus’s heart ached to reach out for her.

In the corner of his eyes, he saw Remus surreptitiously wipe his hands on his jeans, and Janus snatched one of them up in comfort.

They sat near her, close enough to reach out for a handshake – two-year-olds probably didn’t handshake, Nessie hadn’t – but far enough away that they hopefully wouldn’t crowd her. Carla moved to the other side of the room and made herself unobtrusive.

“Hello, Sasha,” said Janus, and he was very proud that his voice didn’t shake.

“Hi,” said Sasha, waving clumsily.

“Do, um- Do you know who we are?” said Janus.

“Mhm,” said Sasha, nodding emphatically.

Janus blinked.

“… You do?”

“Mhm!” she repeated, “Ms’ter Jan n’ Ms’ter Darling. S’your names.”

Remus sputtered his way into a hysterical belly laugh, and Janus covered his own mouth to try not to lose it. Sasha clearly had no idea what she’d done that was funny, but their amusement made her break into peals of delighted laughter anyway.

“N-no, Sasha-”

“Yep,” said Remus, “Mister Darling is absolutely my name.”

“Don’ttell her that, Remus!” said Janus, trying to sound serious and failing miserably.

“Are you kidding? I’m telling everyone that. I’m legally changing my name. They’re gonna announce me at the palace as “Mister Darling Fitzroy” and it’s gonna be the funniest thing anyone’s ever done.”

“Awful man.” laughed Janus.

“Truck?” said Sasha, offering Janus a toy truck.

“Yes, Sasha, that is a truck!” said Janus, taking it.

“Play truck?”

“… You want to play with the truck?” said Janus, furrowing his brow, “Then why did you give it to me, sweet?”

“I think she wants you to play with the truck, babe,” said Remus, sprawling on the floor and propping himself on his elbow, watching them both.

Feeling wrong-footed, Janus put the truck on the floor and made a very poor engine sound, pushing it along.

Sasha gave him an adorably withering look, turning to Remus and offering him the other truck.

“Play truck?”

Remus guffawed, and Janus flushed, laughing at himself.

“I believe I’ve been dismissed.”

“Ms’ter Jan watch,” she said, patting him on the knee in consolation.

And watch he did. Remus was just as wonderful with her as Janus had seen him with any child, but it felt different now, and a hot lump of emotion was growing in Janus’s throat, stinging in his eyes.

An hour passed; Sasha was a cheerful, happy child, bright and vivacious and friendly, and by the end of the second hour she had crawled into Remus’s lap, babbling too quickly for either of them to understand her through her little toddler-accent.

Janus reached out to run a thumb over her cheek impulsively, and she beamed up at him, tiny white porcelain teeth in her pink-brown cupid’s bow mouth, and Janus started crying.

“Jan,” said Remus softly, taking his hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, give me a moment-”

“Sad?” said Sasha, clamoring up on her knees and patting his face, “Sad Ms’ter Jan?”

“No,” he said wetly, “No, I’m not sad, Sashin, not at all.”

“So, goblin,” said Remus, affecting a light, unconcerned voice that belayed the shine in his eyes, “Me and Mister Jan came to visit you today for a reason.”

Sasha’s mouth opened in a surprised ‘oh’.

“Visitin’ me ‘specially?”

“Yes, you especially,” said Remus, poking her nose, “You see, um. Me and Jan were wondering if you might want to come live with us, in our house.”

Sasha wiggled a little.

“Playdate?”

“No,” said Remus, “More like- well, we would be your dads. You would live with us forever.”

Sasha furrowed her little brow in thought.

“Daddy Jan?” she said, looking between them. Janus choked on a sob. “Daddy Darling?”

“Oh, this kid owns me,” said Remus quietly.

“Yes,” said Janus, his voice cracking, “If you want. Would that make you happy, Sashin?”

“A long time?” said Sasha, “Forever’s long?”

“Sure is,” said Remus, “Forever is a very long time. Forever is so long that it doesn’t end.”