Warnings/Content: temporary amnesia, innuendo, mild body horror
It's Virgil's job to wrangle all the nightmares in the mindscape, and he's good at it. The only problem with messing with the other's minds, is the potential amnesia. Sometimes it's not so bad.
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Virgil was used to having a messy sleep schedule, always taking naps during the day when he could, and staying up all night. It was all part of the job, and some of what that job entailed meant he couldn't sleep at night at all.
It was well past one in the morning as Anxiety rounded the mindscape. He was tired but he had to keep watch, never knowing if or when he would have to act.
A chill ran up his spine and in the stillness of the night he could hear the faintest whine. He didn't need to check everyone’s rooms, not when he knew that voice all too well.
Virgil rose up in the cleanest room in the mindscape. His target was bundled under his covers and shaking. That was the second sign that Virgil had to act.
He approached the slumbering side and carefully placed his hand on the other’s temple. Immediately a hole to a different dimension opened up with a swirling purple boundary. This was all part of his job.
He reached into the hole and felt around, doing as much as he could to keep the other from waking up. And then he felt something soft.
Virgil grabbed the object and pulled it out. It was a small ball of fluff that started growing in his palm. He closed the portal quickly as the object grew and shifted.
It was always a little uncomfortable when the legs grew and he had to drape the object over his shoulders, but he could usually manage. This time was no different, as long as there was only one.
He waited for a moment, listening to the other side for any sign of distress. Unfortunately the object grew and head and whinnied right by his ear. Loudly with an echoing voice.
Virgil sank out just as the other side blinked up at him and the foal he was carrying. He would deal with that later.
He rose up in the Imagination, in a quiet field that neither Roman nor Remus had control of. It was his corner and he put it to good use.
“Easy, easy,” Virgil said and gently got the foal on her feet. Even in the starlight he could see the wispy black clouds circling her hooves. He was so glad this one didn't have fairy fingers—those things made him want to vomit.
The foal was a little shaky as she took her first steps, but she didn't run away when she got the hang of walking.
“You wanna meet the other mares?” Virgil asked and stroked her back. She nickered at him and her ears perked up.
“Right this way,” he said and led her toward a stable a fair distance away. The doors were open and he could see sparks of lightning in the field. The other mares were out and about, grazing and playing.
“I think I'll call you Shikari,” he mused as they neared the barn. He was pleased to see a large mare approaching.
“Hey Silverstein, give me a sec and I'll brush you.” he said, only for the horse to whinny and lower her head to sniff the newcomer. As he expected, Shikari cautiously crept up to her with her ears slightly drooping. Silverstein nuzzled her and started grooming her neck.
Virgil chuckled to himself and headed to the stables while the horses went off to join the rest of the herd. He had to make sure there was food and water for all of his mares, and enough blankets to accommodate the latest addition.
But the second he stepped into the building, he swore he heard something behind him.
“So this is where you ran off to!”
Virgil shrieked and spun around ready to deck the intruder in the face.
And he did.
“Hot damn!” Remus grunted as he fell on the ground, “I should've expected that to hurt!”
Virgil sighed and relaxed his shoulders. It was just Remus, unarmed and wearing sweatpants that could not contain his excitement.
“Why the hell are you awake?” Virgil asked and helped him to his feet.
“I saw you carrying a horse on your back, I got curious! And now I really want to see what you're hiding under that hoodie—like damn! You don't just have a fat cake, you're a beefcake!”
Virgil rolled his eyes and left Remus to swoon while he reloaded all of the feeding troughs. Unfortunately for him, that just gave Remus more reasons to drool.
“So, what's with the horses and why didn't I know about this place?” Remus asked and leaned on one of the half-walls separating the pens. He didn't want to stand up, he wanted to get cozy in his bed. After he got answers.
“They're nightmares. I take care of them until they fade away. Some last longer than others. Some escape and find their way back to where they formed. I bring them here so everyone else can sleep,” Virgil grunted tiredly as he dropped a bundle of hay in a trough.
“So you're telling me that you can carry a full grown horse after you pull it from someone's head?” Remus gasped and clapped his hands together.
“No. They shrink when they get into a dream and then grow when they leave the dream realm. If I can move fast enough I can get them here before they finish growing,” Virgil responded and turned on the spicket for the water trough. That was a lie, he could handle carrying a fully grown mare if he let his spider traits out, but Remus should have already known that.
“You're still ripped as fuck!” Remus giggled, “So, why didn't I know about this place? We're in the Imagination and I rule over most of it!”
Virgil waited for the water to fill up before he answered the duke. He had to figure out a way to explain it as if he'd never explained it before. Once he turned off the water he had figured it out.
Virgil wiped his brow and approached Remus, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, mainly to usher the adorable disaster out of the stable before he scented it too much. Remus was more than happy to lean against him and soak in his warmth.
“It's my piece, basically. You don't control it, neither does Roman, so you don't have to know it's here. And I don't want either of you turning my girls into warhorses or show ponies, so I haven't told anyone about it,” Virgil explained once they were outside.
“How many of them are mine?” Remus pouted and blinked up at him, trying to stay awake. He was so cute and innocent looking.
“Out of the twenty here now? Nine. I lost count over the years.”
“You pulled my nightmares from me for years, so I could sleep,” Remus sighed, “When it would have been easier to let me suffer.”
“I don't want you to suffer, not like that,” Virgil admitted, “I care about you. It'll take a lot to change that.”
“I'm good at a lot,” Remus chuckled wearily.
Virgil took pity on him and scooped him up. His mares were fine for the night so he could afford to take care of the duke.
“You're good at being a lot, you're definitely not subtle,” Virgil mused and sank out.
“Your arms are really warm,” Remus giggled when they appeared in his room, “I would kill to snuggle up in these puppies every night!”
“I don't sleep much at night,” Virgil said and set Remus on his bed. Remus pouted at him and rolled on his side, magnetically drawn into his sleep position.
Rather than have him wake up uncomfortable, Virgil reluctantly started pulling the sweatpants down.
“Oh you dirty boy!” Remus giggled, “Only my boyfriend gets to do that to me!”
“Remus,” Virgil snorted, “I am your boyfriend. I've been your boyfriend for years.”
Remus beamed up at him with stars in his eyes. But that smile immediately fell. He would remember something that incredible!
“Amnesia. It can happen when I remove a nightmare.”
“How often do I forget?”
“Every time. But it's not all bad. I get to remind you that we're together and I get to see how you're still happy about that,” Virgil admitted and pulled Remus' sweats off completely.
“I'd be even happier if you stayed with me for the rest of the night,” Remus giggled, “You're so sweet to me!”
Virgil laughed through his nose and climbed over Remus, curling up behind him. He pulled the duke to his chest and nuzzled his shoulder.
“Good night, Puppy,” Virgil muttered and kissed his cheek.
“Sweet dreams are made of this,” Remus giggled, “snuggling with my Virgie. Traveled the world and the seven seas—”
“Get some sleep, Cuddlefish,” Virgil chuckled as Remus trailed off. He would have the sweetest dreams imaginable.
Warnings/Content: Genderbend, sex mention, alcohol mention, drunk ree, song fic
Vi works at a night club as a DJ and bartender, and a certain repeat customer has her attention. Reina is a wily, untamed whirlwind of confidence and a knack for getting into trouble, and she wants the hot gothy bartender so bad
---
Sometimes Vi really hated her job, usually the days when she had to help at the bar instead of spinning discs. And it would be no different that night.
She was in her favorite coffee shop, enjoying a blueberry danish and an americano, just listening to her music. The seat in the back away from the windows was the perfect spot to relax and enjoy some time to herself with some not-so-calming Hawthorne Heights.
She was just finishing her treat when a group of women walked in, chattering away excitedly. She recognized them, they were from the only sorority she knew of that didn't party and never hazed pledges. They were nice enough, but Vi tended to avoid them, lest she get swept up into socializing.
There was Peyton Jones, the sweet adorable one who loved pastels and cozy clothes. She was adorable and kind, and she seemed to love wearing her textured hair in twin puffs on top of her head. Then there was Leila Darzi, an Iranian student who chose to study geology. She was well spoken and eager to impart knowledge, except for details about her religion and why she wore a hijab. Vi asked her once, respectfully, how she put it on and kept it in place. Her answer was curt and precise, but she didn't get angry, which Vi considered a win.
Those two were discussing a history assignment while two other women followed them inside. The twins, Romana and Reina Castille Fernandes. Romana was a boisterous theater lover with a soccer scholarship and an ego to match. She was the princess on campus and she wasn't so bad, even if she had a way of grating on Vi’s nerves. They were a trio of upstanding young women.
Which is why Vi was surprised to see Reina with them. Reina was a party animal with a taste for booze and random hook-ups, and she was taking full advantage of her freedom to indulge. It was a miracle that she still had her scholarship and that she wasn't pregnant. And here she was with her hair down, in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather jacket, hanging with the good girls.
Vi didn't bother wondering what was going on, she was sure she would hear all about it later. While she was working.
.
.
Vi was right to think she would be forced into bar duty. Apparently the club managers weren't looking to play any cybergoth beats on their busiest night. It was a shame that she bothered dressing for the occasion—a purple plaid skirt, her favorite hoodie, fingerless gloves, and a tank top with straps across the waist.. It wasn't like she wanted to look good, she wanted to blend in and hide in plain sight.
As the lights flashed and the music blared, Vi was busy making cocktails upon cocktails. But not even the sheer amount of work on her plate could distract her from the infamous duo that strutted into the club.
“What is up bitches!” Remy shouted above the music as she made her way to the dance floor, past the bar and seating area. The woman who was with her, immediately made her way to the bar, through the occupied tables.
Vi was so glad she had her hands full. Reina was back in her element, away from her sister and ready to steal the show. She was wearing the tightest black mini dress with a neon green, leopard print bodice, strappy platform heels, and her favorite leather jacket. Her makeup was bold with green eyeshadow and sharp eyeliner, and her hair was up in a wild ponytail, save for the front that framed her face with skunk flair.
Vi noticed her ordering two drinks from her coworker, and decided to keep her distance. She had a job to do and she could not get distracted by the gay.
She finished pouring the daiquiris she was working on and looked for the people who ordered them. To her dismay, they were right next to Reina.
She regrettably handed them their drinks and froze when a familiar hand grabbed her wrist.
“Hey, cutie,” Reina beamed, “I thought you were supposed to DJ tonight.”
“Plans change,” Vi shrugged, internally screaming. Reina called her cute—but that didn't mean she was interested, she was friendly like that with everyone. And she might have been straight.
“Aw, and I was looking forward to going all Eisenfunk tonight!” Reina pouted, “And you're so much better on stage than Randy!”
“You're just saying that because he sticks to basic bitch house music,” Vi scoffed. Before Reina could respond, another customer flagged Vi down. She had to make a living.
Reina pouted as she left and waited for her drinks. She would still have her fun, even if she wasn't getting the attention she wanted.
After a couple hours, the crowd had thinned out. It was an hour before closing and Vi was handling the bar solo while her coworker cleaned up. She was glad she didn't have too many people to tend to, mainly so she could keep an eye on the disaster a few feet away.
Reina was absolutely smashed, standing on one of the tables and dancing seductively. VI was surprised that she was able to stand, let alone flaunt her body without looking like she had too much to drink.
If she wasn't worried that Reina would get hurt or kidnapped, Vi would have enjoyed the show. There was something about Reina that drew her in. It wasn't her body, not that Vi wasn't interested, she was too interested. It could have been her laugh or impish grin, it could have been her warm brown eyes or her bubbly energy. But Vi knew better.
Reina was confident to the point of brazenness. She thought she was hot shit, the life of the party, the duchess of the club. She wasn't afraid to flirt with anyone in the building, even if they were spoken for or uninterested. And she could do it all despite having way too much alcohol in her system.
Vi spotted Remy leaving with a hot butch jock and sighed. She snuck her phone from her pocket and texted Romana. It was going to be one of those nights she had to take Reina home, or to her place, lest she take to the streets, drunk and still willing to party until dawn. Vi did not want to risk anything, including waking up at 5am to Reina shouting outside her window.
“Hey, Jacks,” Vi said loudly over her shoulder, “I think I might have to get a drunk skunk home.”
Her coworker came out to the front of the bar and wilted. They wanted to go home on time, and that was a challenge if Vi didn't count her till.
“Duchess?”
“Of course.”
“Fine, but next time, get her sister to get her, and don't make me count your stuff.” Jacks sighed. Vi nodded and went to her register. She was counting her bills and glancing at Reina, making sure she was okay. If she worked fast enough, she wouldn't have to fret.
She had to stuff the extra cash in the safe in the back, taking her eyes off Reina for a couple minutes. It was the most stressful few minutes of the night.
When she got back to wipe down the bar one last time, she was met with a cute little imp leaning over the bar. Reina was flushed and a little shaky, probably because she was on her toes so she could lean on her elbows and draw attention to her chest.
“Hey gorgeous~” she purred and blew a kiss. Vi exhaled through her nose and rolled her neck. She was drunk flirting, it didn't really count.
“I'm not pouring you anything else tonight,” she said firmly, making Reina shudder.
“I don't want a drink,” she muttered, “I want you to take me home tonight!”
“I’m clocking out now, so just wait here for a bit,” Vi said, getting Reina to grin. She punched her number into the register computer and tilted her chin at Jacks.
With a nod in return, Vi backed up as far as she could go and ran at the bar. She leapt over it, and stuck the landing on the other side. It would have taken too long to go around the back to meet up with Reina. She had a knack for wandering off.
Reina was gawking as Vi pulled her hoodie on and then pulled Reina to her side, away from the bar. Reina was lucky that Vi’s apartment was a block away, because there was no way she was walking to the subway and then to her dorm in those heels when she was liable to trip.
“You're sleeping over,” Vi said and led Reina to the exit. She hugged Vi around the waist and nuzzled her shoulder.
“I'm finally gonna get to suck Vi tiddy!” she giggled as the cool night air hit them. The city streets were mostly empty, with the occasional car passing by. It was safe enough to get Reina out of harm’s way.
Vi, however, was not safe. She had a bold, drunk woman trying to get under her skirt, and she didn't know if she would be able to handle rejecting the little imp.
“You're not doing that,” Vi sighed and led the way down the street. Reina pouted and whined.
“What do I have to do to get you to notice me?”
“Duchess,” Vi sighed, “If I didn't notice you, I wouldn’t be making sure you're safe.”
“No!” Reina whined and held her tighter, “You don't notice me! What do I have to do to make you want me?”
Vi stayed silent for the rest of the walk. She didn't have a good answer, not for someone who wasn't all the way there. How could she begin to explain that she was second guessing every hint, that she was not the type Reina went for, and that she didn't think she was worth the effort? At least sober Reina had a shred of a filter.
When they got into her apartment, Vi was beet red and flustered. Reina was casually groping her chest and butt, blissfully unaware that she was out of line. Vi had no qualms about throwing her on the couch to get some personal space.
Reina landed on her back with a giggle and sat up. Her smile fell when she realized Vi was walking away instead of joining her.
“Wait!”
“I'll be right back. I need to shower, and you need to rest,” Vi said and made her way to her room. She would be quick, and she would at least get Reina in some pajamas.
As soon as Vi went into her room, which was connected to the bathroom, Reina hiccuped and tears rolled down her cheeks. Vi didn't even want to cuddle her! What if Vi secretly hated her and only put up with her because Romana was making threats?
Reina brought her knees to her chest and sobbed. She really was drunk if she was getting this emotional, but it truly hurt.
Fifteen minutes later, Vi emerged from her room in an old band tee and pajama pants, holding a set of pajamas for her guest. Her hair was still wet, but she could dry it after Reina was in some pajamas and passed out, hopefully in that order.
To her dismay, she found Reina on the couch with bloodshot eyes and running makeup. She was on the phone and clearly upset.
“I'll get an uber—no, she doesn't, she's probably asleep—no, just let me in, I left my ID key!—Ro!” Reina babbled, sounding far less drunk. She huffed and pocketed her phone when she realized her sister hung up on her.
“Reina?” Vi asked hesitantly, getting Reina to jolt.
“I thought you were sleeping,” Reina grumbled. Vi sat next to her and set the pajamas aside.
“I said I was showering and I'd be back,” Vi said softly, “And that you need to rest.”
Reina sniffled and curled into herself.
“I'm sorry,” she breathed, “I'm just making a mess for you. I can go—”
“In the morning,” Vi cut her off firmly, “I don't trust the world with you like this.”
“You're just being nice because Romana’s threatening you,” Reina huffed, “You don't have to deal with me.”
“Duchess,” Vi said after a beat, “Romana won't threaten me, I have twice as many counter threats as her.”
“Then why!?” Reina shouted, “All I do is get in your way because I want you to like me back! I even tried getting help from those bitches and I still don't know how to get you to notice me!”
“You—You like me?” Vi squeaked.
“Yes! I want to cuddle and kiss and fuck you! I want you to be my girlfriend and hold me!” Reina pouted, “But you don't see me like that—”
Without thinking, Vi kissed her forehead and pulled her into a hug.
“All you had to do was get me alone and say it,” she mumbled and stroked Reina’s hair, “I overthink everything unless you're direct.”
“So you want to be my girlfriend?” Reina responded, in complete shock, “Even though I'm a hot mess?”
“You're a mess, you're a wreck. You are perfect,” Vi replied and pulled out of the hug, “But you need to change your clothes. You're not sleeping in that, and if you want to sleep in my bed you need to wear something.”
“Will you help me and ogle my half naked body while you dress me?” Reina asked, perking up a bit. Vi snickered and shook her head.
“I don't need any more excitement tonight,” she said and pulled Reina’s legs onto her lap. The shoes would go first.
“The thought of me in my undies gets you excited?” Reina jeered and giggled.
“Almost as much as the thought that a confident, sexy whirlwind like you would be into someone as bitter as me,” she answered and freed Reina’s feet, tossing the heels to the floor.
Before Reina could pounce, Vi quickly slipped the pajama pants over her ankles and held onto the waistband.
As expected Reina lunged at her and tackled her on her back in a hug. She was a giggling mess as Vi pulled those pants up to her hips.
“Once you're dressed and I dry my hair we can go to bed,” Vi hummed.
“And we'll be girlfriends!”
“Ask me out when you're sober, then we'll be girlfriends,” Vi countered as Reina nuzzled her chest.
Reina sat up and tore off her dress, not caring who saw, except Vi, she wanted Vi to like what she saw—she was proud of her boobies!
Vi, however, was quick to grab the shirt she brought and tug it over Reina’s head, covering her up as fast as she could.
Reina pouted at her. But she couldn't stay upset, not when Vi was blushing so cutely.
“Violetta,” Reina purred, getting Vi to swallow thickly. To be fair, pushing a horny drunk woman away from her probably was nerve-wracking.
“Is it bedtime?”
“Depends, what are you plotting?”
“Cuddles and boob squishes,” Reina giggled, “I get grabby in my sleep!”
Vi exhaled through her nose fondly and shook her head.
“Yeah, it's bedtime. You get settled and I'll join you when I'm done with my hair.”
Reina squealed and kissed her cheek before running to the bedroom. VI had a feeling Reina would be passed out by the time she got there. The Duchess was a hot mess, unstable and fun, obnoxious and beautiful, and she was Vi’s. Or she would be in the morning.
Warnings/Content: Body swap, ftm!Remus, sex mention, injury
Remus is a mad scientist, and he accidentally switches bodies with his roommate, Virgil. They switch back after learning some interesting things about each other.
---
Waking up with a pounding headache was absolutely normal for Virgil. He had the worst job imaginable and his landlord/roommate was a chaotic disaster. If he wasn't dealing with awful customers, he was putting up with the crazy experiments and the messes they made. Moving out was an option, but he was unfairly fond of his roomie and he didn't have to pay rent for his little room.
Of course, he seriously considered leaving when he opened his eyes. He was staring at the green glowing letters on the clock on the nightstand. He didn't have a nightstand, and his clock was supposed to be across the room. It was 3 in the morning, so maybe he was dreaming or confused.
“Where the fuck—?” he said aloud, only to freeze at the sound of his voice. It was too high pitched.
He sat up abruptly and patted himself down with arms that felt too short. He was nude, had a huge rack, and his bulge was missing.
He let out a shrill scream.
Thud
Virgil went rigid as the thumping continued, growing louder and louder. Someone was coming! He had no idea how to fight in this body, he had no idea where he was, and he had no idea who was coming.
The door swung open, casting a beam of light into the room. Virgil winced at the brightness and the tall, bulky figure looming in the doorway.
“Oh damn, I really am adorable!” the figure giggled. Virgil scowled. That was his voice, but not his usual intonation—and he was not a giggly bitch. There was only one person he knew who would say something like that, even if something didn't add up.
“Remus, what the fuck?” Virgil gawked, “Why am I you? Why do you have tits?”
“Virgil?” Remus asked and turned on the light, “Are you Virgil?”
“Who else would I be?!”
“Blimpo or Scrungy! But they probably can't talk, which means, I'm in your body!” Remus shrugged. And then a dastardly grin crossed his (Virgil’s) face.
“Don't you fucking dare!” Virgil snapped as soon as he saw Remus going for his pants.
“Why delay the inevitable? I'm not backing up your kidneys if this body needs to piss! Besides, you can see me in all of my naked glory too! Just look down!
Virgil had no idea how to fight the blush rising to his (Remus') cheeks. He might have been curious before, but with some new insight, he was mortified at the proposition.
“What happened?” he squeaked, trying to sound threatening as he scrambled to cover up with the sheets. This voice was not helping him.
Remus bobbed from side to side and jogged in place, clearly unused to having long limbs.
“Well, you came home from work and showered, and then you ran upstairs to my lab when I screamed because Blimpo went chomp on my fingie—does it still hurt? I disinfected it but rodent teeth are a bitch!—You ran in when I was testing my new invention, accidentally got zapped with me, and then you went to your room and probably passed out in bed.”
“What kind of invention?” Virgil asked and ran a hand through his (Remus') hair. It was surprisingly soft.
“A body swap ray gun!” Remus beamed, setting off every alarm possible in Virgil's mind. Not only did that invention work, but he was stuck in Remus' body, he had a whole different set of parts that could torture him at some point, and Remus' expressions on his face were extra creepy.
“Swap us back!” Virgil yelped and lurched forward, clinging to the sheet hiding his (Remus') body.
“Can I at least pee first? I've never pissed with a dick!” Remus asked and fluttered his lashes. Virgil would never get used to seeing his own face making those expressions.
“What do you mean you never—? Are you telling me that this isn't some side effect of your invention?”
“Nope! Surprise! I'm trans!” Remus giggled, “And you can have as much fun as you want exploring!”
“We're switching back. Now.”
Virgil threw the sheet aside and got to his feet. As long as he didn't look down at his (Remus') body, he could handle throwing on a shirt and pants. Remus already knew what he looked like, so it wasn't worth worrying over if he saw.
Remus was oddly silent as Virgil stalked to the dresser and bent over at the waist to grab some clothes. Contrary to what some might suggest, Remus could not simply look in a mirror and get turned on by his own appearance. Yet here he was, staring at his own sweet booty, feeling a strange ache below the belt.
Virgil managed to get a pair of basketball shorts on before Remus realized what was happening. He wasn't aroused, but Virgil’s body was! Or maybe he was just getting used to the different hormone levels in this body. There was a way to test it!
“Hey, Virge,” Remus said before he could throw a shirt on, “Before you do that, can you squeeze my boobs?”
“What?”
“I need to check to make sure they still have feeling since I bind all the time!” Remus lied flawlessly. Virgil sighed and set the t-shirt on the dresser. This was just a health check.
He carefully cupped his (Remus') tits, all too aware of how sensitive they were, and gently squeezed the flesh in his hands. He was surprised to let out a weak moan from that, and that his urge to pee got worse. He instantly dropped his hands and thought about deserts.
That was all Remus needed to confirm his suspicion. The sight and sound combined made his (Virgil's) cock jump. This would be useful information later.
Virgil quickly finished dressing and dragged Remus out of the room. He wanted his body back before Remus got the chance to mess with it and before he had to use the toilet. All they had to do was get to the ray gun in Remus' lab.
“Uh, Virge,” Remus said as he stumbled up the stairs behind him, “You can't just break in!”
“Why not?” Virgil asked as he reached the steel door blocking access to the lab.
“The alarm system is active and if you don't have the passcodes, you'll get electrocuted,” Remus explained and wiggled to set his lower half right. How did Virgil manage to move with a python between his legs!?
“And let me guess, one of those is specifically related to your body, like a fingerprint scanner.”
“It's a voice scanner!” Remus giggled and reached past him to pull a sliding door aside, revealing a microphone and speaker.
“What do I have to say?”
“Six slick licks to six stiff pricks swiftly makes the six dicks bricks.”
Virgil paused and clicked his tongue. He should have expected something ridiculous from Remus.
“That's it?”
“That's the first one!” Remus chirped, “The second one is an unfiltered moan, and the third one is, ‘Scare Bear’ if you make it that far. Of course you have to hold down the button when you're saying these things for it to register.”
“What do you mean ‘if I make it that far?’” Virgil bristled.
“Can you moan on command?” Remus asked, “If you can't, do I have permission to help you?”
Virgil hated how red his (Remus') face was. Remus was right, he had a mental block about making unnecessary sounds, but he refused to let Remus help. That would involve touching and Virgil was not okay with that.
“Let's just get this over with,” Virgil huffed and leaned towards the microphone. He took a deep breath and pressed the button.
“Six slick licks to six stiff pricks swiftly makes the six dicks bricks.”
He let go of the button and heard a ding. The first key went through.
“Do you want help? I can help without touching if you're worried about that!” Remus said.
Virgil pushed the button and shot him a death glare. Any bitter retort died in his (Remus') throat as he watched Remus peel his (Virgil's) shirt off.
A needy moan escaped him before he could process what was happening. That was his torso, nothing special to him, just a bulky figure with body hair. He wasn't some body builder or particularly chubby, nothing special, but Remus' body instantly reacted vocally, and he remembered that he had to empty his (Remus') bladder soon.
“Told you I wouldn't have to touch!” Remus jeered and pulled his shirt on again.
“I didn't say that you could do that either,” Virgil huffed, “and so we're clear, I wasn't making that noise.”
“Of course not! That was muscle memory! You could argue it was me!” Remus agreed.
Virgil scowled at him before pressing the button and leaning towards the mic.
“Scare Bear,” he droned flatly. A harsh buzz followed and the door remained locked.
“You have to swoon when you say it,” Remus said before Virgil could get angry.
“Why?”
“Because I always swoon when I say it!” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. If Virgil were a jealous bitch with no restraint he would have demanded to know who this “Scare Bear” was and how to end them.
He could be upset after he had his own body back. In order to do that, he had to swallow his pride and act like Remus for another minute.
“Scare Bear,” he sighed dreamily into the microphone.
The door beeped and a metallic clank rang out on the other side. Virgil stepped back as the door slid back with a hiss of steam and slid to the side.
Virgil entered first, with Remus stumbling behind him. The poor guy was just not getting used to his height. It was a good thing there was nothing low-hanging to hit his head on.
The lab itself was fairly clean and organized. On one wall there were shelves upon shelves of finished and failed inventions, glistening chromatically under the LED lights. On the opposite wall, there was a workbench and a computer table, complete with a desktop and various tools. And along the back wall there was a curtain hiding a huge rat cage and their supplies.
Remus pushed past Virgil, though unintentionally, and hurried to check on his rats. He flung the curtain open, revealing the large cage full of tubes, ropes, ladders, and hammocks. There was a rat wheel as well and a gray rat was busy running on it.
“I think it worked!” Remus beamed and searched the cage for his other rat, “Scrungy hates the wheel, but look at her go! That has to be Blimpo!”
Virgil let him have fun with his rats and approached the workbench. The ray gun was propped up on a stand and fully charged. The eerie trident-shaped gun was reminiscent of the antimatter laser from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but the base was thicker. Virgil hesitated to touch it.
“A little help?” Remus giggled sheepishly. Virgil’s body was strong, stronger than Remus was used to. He didn't want to hurt his little buddies by accident!
Virgil sighed and went over to help. He carefully slid his hand in the cage and waited for one of the rats to get curious.
The white and black rat released her jaw and curiously sniffed Virgil's (Remus') hand. She squeaked softly and scurried off.
“Aw, I wanted to switch them back!” Remus whined while Virgil gently stroked the gray rat's back. She released her jaw and went flat against the ground.
“Do that after we're switched back,” Virgil said and dragged both of their hands out of the cage, “And clean that up. I'm not getting sick because you just had to be obnoxious.”
Remus beamed at him and got up. He went to the workbench and grabbed his antibiotic ointment. Virgil closed the cage and curtains and followed him.
“Whenever you're ready I can turn on the machine and switch us back,” Remus said as he applied a couple bandaids, “Of course, you can always let me pee first, because I really want the experience!”
“Keep wanting,” Virgil huffed and glanced at Remus' (Virgil’s) pants, “You won't be able to pee anyway. How the hell did you manage to get that hard without doing anything?”
“I dunno. It's probably because I'm not used to having so much T naturally coursing through me, and because muscle memory is making your body react to my body's pure animalistic appeal!”
Virgil scowled and shook his head. It was probably the former. Sure, he had moments when Remus turned him on, but it never got to the point where he wasn't able to use the bathroom. And he was sure Remus didn't feel the same way about him—his body was more than ready to piss.
“I’m surprised you're not soaked through those shorts,” Remus commented and turned on the ray gun, “I can't help but smile all the time, and your smile does evil things to me!”
“What—?” Virgil asked before the ray gun sent out a blast of plasma that hit both of them in the chest.
Remus immediately fell to his knees, and then the floor. Virgil stared at him, close to panicking, before he collapsed on top of Remus.
A few moments later, Virgil came to with a grunt, there was a weight on his chest that shouldn't have been there. He glanced down to find Remus on top of him, unconscious, but in his own body.
“Shit,” Virgil sighed. He couldn't exactly push Remus to the floor like this, not to mention he liked having Remus curled up to him.
“Mm—Scare Bear,” Remus muttered. Virgil gently stroked his hair to wake him up.
Remus blinked up at him and grinned.
“It worked,” he said, “You're you again, Scare Bear, and I'm me again!”
“‘Scare Bear?’” Virgil pouted.
“Yeah, you!” Remus giggled, refusing to get up, “And now that I know you have a raging boner for me, I can say that without dying a sexy sexy death!”
“You don't get to call me that if I'm the only one who has feelings,” Virgil huffed.
“Why would you think I don't? You were there when I took your shirt off and my body moaned, and you can't tell me you didn't notice that I have the Marianas trench in my pants! You're hot, you can handle the mad scientist goofball roomie, and you care about me—of course I have feelings for you!” Remus pouted.
“Prove it.”
Remus couldn't resist a challenge, and there was a challenge in that beautiful voice.
He crawled up Virgil's chest and grabbed his face. Before Virgil knew what was happening, Remus was covering his face in smooches.
“Remus—?”
A direct kiss on the lips silenced any questions Virgil had. He immediately pulled Remus closer and licked at his lips.
“Mmm—Not in the lab, Scare Bear!” Remus giggled when he pulled away, “I'm one tongue tango away from ripping your clothes off!”
Virgil scooped him up and stood, holding the imp in his arms. He smirked and carried Remus out of the lab, letting him implode for a bit before speaking.
“I’d rather not do anything like that,” he said, “Not unless you're my boyfriend and we go on at least one date.”
“I'll be your boyfriend!” Remus giggled and wrapped his arms around Virgil's shoulders, “Expect me to get extra cuddly and swoon harder!”
@dukexietyweek 2025 Day 6 - Soulmate -or- Dance + Colors
Word Count: 2552 (Ao3)
Rating: T
Characters: Virgil, Ree
Warnings/Content: mtf!Remus, sex mention, murder mention, sensuality
Teaching dance can really grate on Virgil's nerves, especially when soulmate issues and romance are involved. But when a new student shows up for solo lesson, he can't find it in himself to be too annoyed with her flirting.
---
Virgil was never happy to have to deal with people. Unfortunately, his job revolved around exactly that. Teaching dance classes was not exactly his ideal career, but he had the skills and bills to pay.
It was always so annoying to teach a room full of people, half of whom did not want to be there. There were so many husbands who were appeasing their wives, brides and grooms looking to impress, and idiots foolishly hoping to find their soulmates. The fantasy of romance got in the way of actually learning how to move without getting hurt or looking stupid.
As he rifled through his appointment book at the front of the studio, Virgil scoffed at the faded green mark stretching down his arm where his soulmate would touch him for the first time. No one else could see it, but it was still irksome to have to see it for himself.
He truly loathed the idea. Soulmates were just the universe’s way of being a complete bastard. It meant horrible people could lay claim to innocent people, that dating was never serious (though flings were common), that anyone who didn't have a mark had to pretend. And there was no guarantee that anyone would do more than brush against their soulmate in a crowd, never to see them again.
It was as much of a waste of time as solo lessons. Virgil read the name in his appointment book and sighed. “Reina C. Tango.” She was probably just another woman who wanted to get too personal with a young, fit man while she kept searching for “the one,” or making up for “the one” being absolute garbage.
Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He just needed to get through this one lesson before he could go home and spend some quality time with Jill, his right hand, the one without the stupid mark.
Ding
Virgil glanced up as the door opened. The woman who walked in was far from the usual solo client. She was definitely under 30, with long, wavy, dark hair, save for a streak of gray in the front. He recognized her as one of his neighbors, the one living across from him. That wasn’t an issue since he never talked to his neighbors, she probably wouldn't recognize him. No, he was only mildly concerned that she was wearing a tight green dress with a flowy skirt and heels. It was best for beginners to wear comfortable workout clothes so they could see how their body had to move.
“Hey there, hot stuff,” she giggled and skipped up to the counter, “I have an appointment!”
“Reina?” he asked and looked at her face rather than her bold outfit that accentuated her plush curves. She had hypnotic hazel eyes and an impish smile.
“That's me!” she beamed, “And what do I get to call a hunk like you?”
“Virgil,” he said flatly and stepped out from behind the counter. Reina’s eyes went wide as she drank in the sights. Virgil was all too used to being eyed like a piece of meat, with the tight black pants and even tighter black t-shirt, he couldn't hide most of his physique.
“If you brought a change of clothes, there's a room in the back you can use,” he said before she started drooling all over the floor.
“Change?” she parroted before snapping out of her trance, “Oh! I didn't bring a change of clothes!”
“Alright, but you might want to consider it next time,” he shrugged and led the way to the main dance floor. Reina followed with a spring in her step.
“Now this is a kinky place for a murder!” she giggled as she looked around the room. Virgil should have been more concerned, but he couldn't argue with her—there were mirrors lining two walls and on the ceiling, and the only raised surface was a stool holding a speaker.
“If you don't mind cleaning up all the blood and glass in the middle of the night, maybe,” Virgil said and faced her. She was vibrating with excitement.
“And if I don't mind, would you be interested in renting this place out?” she jeered and shimmied.
“I'd rather not have cops flooding my studio, thanks,” he pouted. She had the nerve to giggle at him as he pulled out his phone to pick some music.
“So,” he said as he found a good song for beginners, “Have you ever tangoed before or is this your first time?”
“It's my first time not leading,” Reina beamed, “I used to be pretty good at that part, but I want to be ready for my brother's wedding. I have the basics down!”
Virgil paused and stared at her for a moment. Why would a woman like her know the typical male part and not the typical female part? He wasn't judging, there were a number of reasons why, but she had a lot of energy and personality, it would be a shame if she didn't get a chance to show off her flamboyance.
“He found his soulmate?” Virgil asked and played the music, mainly so he wouldn't ask her anything too personal.
“Nope! He and his fiance don't have marks, they're aroace but they want a tax break,” Reina shrugged, “And a big party. And I have to dance with him at least once.”
“So you either want to upstage him or you just don't want to embarrass him,” Virgil said.
“Both!” Reina giggled, “So can I show you what I already know before the lesson?”
“Yeah,” Virgil said and carefully wrapped his left arm around her back to guide her into position.
Reina went rigid and stared at him with tears welling up in her eyes.
“Shit, I'm sorry,” Virgil gasped and tried to step back and give her some space. Reina held his arm in place with one hand and grabbed his free hand with the other.
“I’m okay, you just surprised me,” she said and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, leaning towards him and balancing her weight on her right foot, “Let’s see what you can teach me!”
“Tell me if you need me to stop or slow down at any point,” he responded before carefully stepping forward with his left foot. To his surprise, she moved her right foot at the same time and pace as him.
“You can go faster,” she teased as he walked her back two more steps. He brought his right foot back and turned, having her follow him without any issue.
“You said you had experience leading,” Virgil commented, “How much experience?”
“Regional champion, three years in a row,” she giggled adorably, “But that was years ago, before I had some medical things.”
“Medical things,” he mused and led her sideways across the studio, “Don't take this the wrong way, but are you talking about transitioning?”
“Are you saying I look like a guy?” she pouted, never faltering in her steps.
“No, you don't look like a guy. It's just that regional competitions are annoyingly strict when it comes to gender roles. If I'm wrong that's okay, and if I'm not, you're safe and your secret is safe with me.”
“Since you don't recognize me,” she pouted and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Why don't you show me your skills?”
To make her point even clearer, she lifted her left leg and dragged it down his side. Virgil immediately grabbed her thigh at the knee as soon as she started trembling.
“Tell me if you need to stop or slow down,” he said with a far too serious gaze. That hard glare was electric, enough to make Reina’s heart race.
“And what if I don't?” she jeered, smiling impishly. That smile fell from her lips when Virgil twisted his hips and dipped her so she was level with the ground.
“Then I'll quit while I'm ahead,” he said firmly. He was so close that she could smell his breath, a delightful wintermint that sharply contrasted the heat spilling from his lips.
“I’ll behave,” she breathed, absolutely entranced by him. Virgil could see it in her eyes, she was getting the wrong idea, but he was hesitant to correct her. He preferred men, but something about this woman made him consider the possibility.
He swiftly righted them, pulling her to his chest, mainly for balance, but he wouldn't deny that he enjoyed the flustered shock on her face.
“I get the feeling you won't,” he teased with a wry smirk. All her shock melted into a challenging grin.
“How am I supposed to behave when my dance partner is teasing me?” she jeered and cupped his cheek with her right hand.
He took that hand and locked their fingers, pulling it back into position away from their bodies. His brow furrowed slightly and his gaze hardened seriously.
Reina was thrilled when he picked up the pace, taking bolder steps, closer to her legs. They moved across the floor in quick bursts, cut by sharp stops that Reina used to wrap herself around him, flowing like a blade of grass in the wind.
No matter how far she leaned away from him, Virgil leaned towards her, keeping an eye out for any discomfort or struggle. Reina was far from uncomfortable, seductively arching and curling around his frame. She was keeping pace with ease, taking patterned steps that kept her hips swaying as Virgil led her through more complicated patterns that a beginner could never handle.
The studio lights illuminated her dark curls, showing off the red hues hidden in the brown. She was glowing, in her element, and her eyes were sparkling cesspools of radioactive sludge—a gorgeous portrait of chaos. Virgil was so drawn to her, and he was reluctant to fight it.
Then, with a sharp twist of the hips, Reina stuck her left leg out behind her, far enough that she had to bend her other knee. Virgil knew exactly what she was hoping for with this move, and he was set to deliver.
As soon as that left leg lifted off the ground he bent down at the waist. Reina swung her leg up and onto his shoulder, quickly bracing herself on both shoulders with her hands, letting her right leg dangle between them. Virgil immediately grabbed her waist to support her, keeping his eyes on her face. This was more advanced than he was used to teaching, but he could enjoy flexing his skills every so often.
Reina was beaming as he spun her around once. She was a chubby lady, and it took a lot of core strength to hold her up like this. Virgil wasn't straining himself, even when he carefully guided her back down, slowly letting her right foot touch the floor while her left leg slid down his arm. He shifted back to his previous position, holding her hand with the other arm around her back.
“Oh, you are good,” Reina purred as he turned, spinning her on one foot.
“And you don't need me to teach you,” Virgil hummed and let go of her hand for a moment so she could lower her leg, wrapping it around his hip.
“I could still use a partner,” she hummed and leaned into his chest, “Especially one as strong and handsome as you!”
“You can find better,” he responded and dipped her again so he wouldn't get too flustered, “Someone who won't play tricks like this.”
“Maybe I can't,” she giggled as he righted her. She brought her leg down and twisted so her back was pressed against him and his arm was across her waist. They locked their other hands and ghosted across the floor in long, lingering strides.
“What makes you say that?” he mumbled in her ear, his low voice sending chills up her spine. At the same time, Virgil’s heart was hammering against his ribs, all because she was in his arms, so close he could smell the ocean breeze shampoo she used. He didn't want to let her go, even though he knew he had to.
Instead of answering him, Reina let go of his right hand and spun away from him, holding his left hand until she twisted and spun with swift, bold steps, circling him sensually. She paused behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, slowly dragging herself down his back before snapping away and twirling around him to see his face.
That's when Virgil finally got a look at his left arm. The green mark was glowing on its own. Reina was his soulmate.
Reina wrapped her arms around his shoulders and giggled at his slack jaw.
“Still think I could find better?” she teased and fluttered her lashes. He was so cute when he was stunned!
Virgil pulled her flush against him and stared down at her smiling face.
“Is this why you were crying earlier?”
“Yeah. I never thought you of all people would be my match—you beat me in the state championship three years in a row as kids,” Reina explained and caressed his cheek while she wrapped her left leg around his hip.
“You had a mustache, didn't you?” Virgil asked, wracking his brain for any details he could remember. Reina rubbing his hip and butt was making thinking difficult.
“That's right!” she sang and nuzzled his chest, “I made it look hot!”
“You did. But I think you look better now,” he muttered.
“Aw, you're in luck if you aren't a sausage guy! I look better without clothes!”
Virgil snorted and shook his head. This kind of flirting got people banned from his studio, but he didn't mind when Reina got suggestive with him, at least with no one else around.
“I think you'd look best in your favorite pajama pants and one of my old t-shirts, cozy and comfortable, completely at ease,” he replied and gently guided her hands from his cheek so that he could brush his lips against her knuckles.
Reina squeaked and tried to hide her blushing face in his chest. She was too cute.
“Did you drive here?” he asked.
“I took the bus.”
“If you're not busy, did you want to get some takeout and watch a movie at my place?” he asked, and then panicked, “—It’s right across from your apartment, I'm not trying to lure you into anything dangerous and I'm not a stalker, I swear—”
Reina laughed and hugged him tighter, dropping her leg.
“My soulmate is a sexy dancer and the mystery horror movie fan in 13A!” she cheered, “And he's thoughtful and sweet and funny! The only way this could get better is if you decide to spend the rest of the day shirtless!”
“What?!” Virgil yelped and stumbled back, dragging her with him.
“Skin contact!” she giggled and booped his nose, “And I'll show you my mark if you do that for me! It looks like a big bruise! But it's not nearly as cool as your radioactive arm!”
“Let me lock up and I'll consider it,” Virgil said, certain that he would oblige that request when they were in the safety of his apartment.
“Don't keep me waiting, Virgil,” she purred and released him from her hold. He wouldn't leave her waiting long.
Captain Remus is a fun loving brat running from his past. Of course, that past just so happens to bring him to the hottest seal-man he's ever had the pleasure of imprisoning (temporarily)
---
Freedom was a rare commodity for anyone, especially a royal. No one knew that better than Remus. That's why he chose to run away, why he chose to earn the respect and fear people gave him. He fought tooth and nail to become the captain of this crew, and no one would take that title away from him while he was alive.
He knew he was a force to be reckoned with, a strong fighter with extensive skills and no fear. If swashbuckling wasn't on the table, he could talk his way out of anything, mainly by sounding deranged and a little horny. And if all else failed, he could lean on his good looks and appeal—who could resist a stout short king with long, tied back hair and an impeccable (fake) mustache?
“Captain,” a scruffy, old, peg-legged sailor said as he hobbled to the wheel. Remus glanced at him and then the navigator, a young woman who knew too much about the stars. They had to travel south to avoid the royal blockade and he was going to make sure that they went unnoticed. He would not be captured or worse, taken back to the capital as some reward token.
“The prisoner is awake,” the old sailor said and leaned against the mast, sore and out of breath. Now that was news!
“Ten degrees port. I'll be back in an hour to adjust,” Remus said and strutted his way down to the main deck. It wasn't often his crew took on prisoners—hostages, sure, but no one who could be a threat. And this guy stupidly attacked all on his own for no obvious reason! Remus was giddy about the prospect of torturing the information he needed out of the prisoner—mind games and flashing his chesticles, and then the painful stuff.
He grabbed a lantern and descended into the belly of his ship. The violent screams and rattling chains against the salt-stained wood were certainly loud enough to make him think someone was enjoying tormenting their prisoner, probably not in a fun way, but when he stepped into the brig, the only person there was trapped behind iron bars.
In the dim light, Remus couldn't help but admire the person. He had long dark hair and piercing purple eyes that could hypnotize a weaker pirate. He was bare save for a ratty pair of pants and the cuffs around his wrists that pinned him to the wall. His strong arms were straining in a vain attempt to break free, and Remus was sorely tempted to run his tongue over them and his muscular torso.
“A cúl tona!” the prisoner snarled and spat at the captain.
“I don't know what that means, but I'm assuming you just called me a sexy little baby!” Remus jeered, “And you're right! I am!”
“Dickhead!” the prisoner growled, “Let me go!”
“Now that's not very nice! Even if I let you go, you'll just try to kill me and my crew! And then you'll never find your pelt!” Remus jeered and leaned against the bars, fluttering his lashes.
“I'm not becoming a slave to a grimy bastard like you!” the selkie snapped, bearing his sharp, trident-like teeth.
“No? But you were being sent off to become a concubine for the soon-to-be king!” Remus gasped with mock innocence.
“What?!” the selkie yelled, more offended by the prospect of being married off than the idea that this imp was trying to annoy him.
“Isn't that why your queen sent you? To form an alliance with the birdbrain?”
“I'm not going anywhere near the Phoenix Prince and if you even think of sending me to him I will rip your throat open and throw you to the orcas!”
“Kinky! But I don't even know your name!” Remus jeered, “You can call me Remus.”
“Unlock the chains, Remus.”
“Tell me what to call you first,” Remus teased and entered the cell.
“Virgil.”
“Ooh!” Remus giggled and pulled his keys from his belt, “Now that's a name I’d love to scream in bed!”
“I'll kill you before you can force me into that. I'm not some pathetic human man you can use and throw away,” Virgil hissed. Remus decided not to acknowledge that remark, if only to keep his thoughts in check. He unlocked the chains, fully expecting Virgil would run to find his pelt and leave.
“Ack!”
Remus found himself pinned to the wall by the neck with his feet dangling over the floor. Virgil was glaring at him with the most lethal gaze—it was enough to make Remus shiver and blush.
“Now, you're going to take me to where you hid the princess and your bullshit crew will hand her over or I get to have my fun,” Virgil said and reached for Remus' belt.
Remus was stunned. Was this hot man about to take off his pants? Did he know that Remus had different parts than most guys? Was this seal man just as aroused as him?
Virgil snatched Remus' dagger and held the blade to Remus' throat. If Remus wasn't aroused before, he certainly was then!
“You need to explain what you mean by fun, because I am getting the wrong idea!”
“I'll turn you into chum. So release her.”
“Why? Why do you want the princess? What are you going to do with—?” Remus asked, only for the knife to press into his throat more. Virgil was not messing around.
“Negotiations. If Prince Roman won't stop you pirate bastards from trafficking my kin, she might be willing to help,” he explained coldly.
“My brother has zero control over outlaws!” Remus giggled, “There's no way he could help, even if he wanted to!”
“You're—”
“Remus. Captain Remus of the Kraken’s Booty, the most influential pirate bastard on the seas, and a royal pain in the ass—unless you want me to experience that instead, I’m more than willing,” Remus cut him off, “And you're the first selkie I ever captured!”
“Foc!” Virgil snapped and dropped Remus on his ass. He tossed the dagger aside and ran his hands over his face. This cute brat was the person he was looking for—and he wasn't a hostage! How was he supposed to face his queen now? He had one job and it was ruined!
Remus huffed and got to his feet. He was not pleased that his life wasn't in danger anymore—this selkie was hitting all the right buttons to make him weak in the knees.
“Why so upset?” Remus cooed and wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, “I can still help you and put a stop to the trafficking—and you can help me too.”
Virgil went rigid as Remus ran his hands over his fuzzy abs.
“What do you want?” Virgil bristled and dared glance at Remus. He regretted it as soon as their eyes met. The little imp was far too adorable to resist. He had to be part siren with his unnatural allure.
“To make you want me! I love a man who can kick my ass and threaten me with a good time! Do you know how hard it is to find someone like that? Much less someone who's hot as hell!”
Virgil was beet red and trembling. This bratty imp was feeling him up and he actually liked being held at knife point. Those deft fingers were curling in his body hair, tickling poor Virgil in the sultriest way. He was seriously considering sticking around anyway, since he couldn't face the queen without having a ton of explaining to do, but the electric touch was making it all the more appealing.
And then those hands cupped his firm, beefy pecs, kneading them appreciatively.
All bets were off and he hoisted Remus up, slamming him against the wall so he was eye level.
“You're gonna regret this,” he growled and leaned in. Remus wondered if he would, right before Virgil captured his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip.
Warnings/Content: ftm!Virgil, pre-transition pronouns used, blood, injury, major injury, amputation, death mention, gore, food mention, sex mention
Remus used to be a hero, but he hung up his tights after a tragedy and opened a seafood restaurant. It's funny how the past has a way of showing up at the most unexpected times
---
Being a superhero was tough, being a villain was even tougher, Remus of all people knew the former struggle well. It was too much to deal with on top of his mental health and his dream job, and he was not about to become a sexy Aquaman again.
He was happy with his life, serving up fresh seafood during the summer season and fishing in the off season. He ran a cute little tourist trap on the coast and the place could have a wait time of three hours some nights! Everyone loved his food, especially his caldeirada de peixe. Remus was proud of his work and he was happy.
At least until he showed up and proved Remus was wrong.
It was a cold fall day, the sky was overcast and threatening rain. Remus was bummed that it would be too dangerous to go out on his boat, but not completely miserable. As he leaned against the bar, idly waving his finger around, guiding soapy water over the floor, tables, and chairs, he tried to keep his spirits up and his restaurant tidy. They needed a deep clean, and he had the time and privacy. The restaurant was closed and no one would be out on the street with the storm brewing, so he didn't have to hide his ability to control water.
By chance he glanced out the window and his heart stopped. There was someone leaning against the window, slumped against it and breathing raggedly. He was drenched, bleeding from his head, and slipping as he tried to hold himself up.
Remus pulled all the water he was using away from the furniture and floor and sent it down the dish sink drain. He might not have been a superhero anymore, like his firebrand twin, but that didn't mean he was letting someone collapse on the street!
He rushed past the clean tables, the host podium, and the waiting chairs, hoping he wouldn't have to call an ambulance—or an uber.
“Hey,” he said as soon as he flung the door wide open, “Are you alright?”
The electricity in the air made his hair stand up, it was definitely not the way the man looked at him with those hazy, deep purple eyes. He knew those eyes, even when they were framed by blood oozing from the top of his head.
“I'll be fine. This looks worse than it is,” the man said. His voice was deep and raspy, but somehow familiar.
“You want to come in and clean up? Or I can get a cab to take you home. You don't want to be out in the cold rain, you could get sick, and then get sepsis and then your limbs’ll decay and you'll have to get them chopped off—” Remus rambled. He had no idea why he was nervous, but something about this guy had him on edge for no obvious reason.
“Dude,” the man cut him off and sighed, “if it'll keep you from spiraling, I'll come inside.”
Remus beamed and nodded rapidly, holding the door open for his guest. The man stumbled inside, not putting much pressure on his left foot. Was he in a fight? Would Remus have to don his old costume? Would it still fit? He was rounded in the middle since he gave up the alter ego.
“The bathroom is in the back to the left,” Remus said as he stepped inside, “Did you piss off a seal or something? You look like you just got knocked around by Frightening Gale or one of those assholes.”
The man froze and leaned on one of the tables. The electricity in the air got stronger. Maybe there would be a thunderstorm.
“Frightening Gale is dead. She died fighting the Phoenix and the Kraken. It was all over the internet,” the man said stiffly. Remus knew better, but he wouldn't correct the man.
“Cut it off! I don't need it!”
“I'm suggesting ridiculous things so you can deny them and tell me what happened if you want,” Remus shrugged. The man relaxed his shoulders and trudged to the bathrooms. So Remus might've stared at his butt as he stalked off—sue him, it was a juicy booty, he was not immune, and he needed to do something to distract him from the memories.
Rather than sit around waiting in the dining room, Remus went to the back and ran upstairs to get some dry clothes and a towel for his guest. Making himself busy was a great distraction. If only it could keep his mind from wandering.
--
They were so close to catching her. The Phoenix was determined to get his hands on one of the Golden Serpent’s top agents. Frightening Gale was acting out, causing petty issues, and it had to be a part of some reckless scheme the Serpent had planned.
Kraken was sure his brother was wrong. There were no connections between the crimes. Breaking into the Department of Records, destroying the administrative wing of a random hospital, hacking the Social Security System network—this reeked of a personal mission. And yet they found themselves in this distillery, of all places, on a dark, rainy night.
“Feenie,” Kraken muttered as they paced through the rows of steel vats. Something wasn't right. There was no reason for Frightening Gale to be there. Why would she choose to break into a place like this?
“What is it?” Phoenix muttered.
“I think—”
“So, you followed me again,” a cold voice came from the rafters. The twins looked up to see their target, dressed in her usual costume—a kevlar and rubber body suit and a mask with a beak that covered her entire face, except for her eyes.
“How could I not?” Kraken jeered, “I might be gay as fuck but I can't let a babe like you wander in these parts alone!”
“Sounds like you're just another creep,” she scoffed.
“I'm a creepy cuttlefish!” Kraken laughed, “And you're a bootylicious bird I have to get my hands on!” He blew her a kiss, just to be a little shit, though he would be more than happy to keep flirting with her if she was game. But he was driving Phoenix up a wall.
“Enough! You fiend! You will pay for your crimes!” Phoenix shouted and pointed up at her for emphasis. He was always one for dramatics.
“I don't have any fucks to give, so put it on my tab,” she scoffed, “And don't expect me to pay like some kind of porno—I really have zero fucks to give.”
Kraken knew she was trying to piss Phoenix off, the sex-repulsed aroace jock always lost his temper with any mention of sex regarding him. She wanted him to attack. This wasn't right.
Phoenix, of course, sputtered indignantly and shot a blast of fire at her without thinking. Thinking was not one of his strengths.
Frightening Gale dodged the blast and leapt to the ground, bolts of lightning surged around her exposed hands.
“So I'm supposed to pay with my life?” she taunted, “And you call yourself chivalrous.”
Phoenix snarled as his entire body burst into flames. He lunged at the villain, set on taking her down and arresting her.
“Dumbass!” Kraken shouted and pulled the water up from the floor drain. He doused his brother right before he could land a punch. Frightening Gale simply stepped aside and let him stumble.
“What the hell!?”
“We're surrounded by flammable liquids! Do you want to blow this—” Kraken shouted, “—Look out!”
A steel beam flew at him, levitating with electrical force. It collided with his head before Phoenix could react. He collapsed in a heap while Frightening Gale dusted off her hands.
“He'll live,” she said, staring at the flashy dumbass in manilla spandex and red feathers. Then she glared at the gremlin in green fish scale spandex and a domino mask. She was tense, waiting for him to make a move. Nothing pissed The Kraken off more than his partner getting seriously hurt. She was banking on his attack.
“What are you really up to?” Kraken asked, holding up his hands, “This doesn't seem like your boss' style.”
“What do you care? I just knocked your boyfriend unconscious. Shouldn't you be trying to kill me?” she responded warily and reached for her utility belt.
“One, he's my brother, and I've done worse. Two, it sounds like you want to die. What's this really all about?” he said and carefully took a step forward, ignoring the horrible flood of thoughts assaulting him. She immediately took a step back. It was obvious what was going on.
“You're trying to die. At least you want to kill the bird ego, right?”
“Stay back!”
“You just want to live a normal life, right? Let me help you. Everyone deserves a second chance,” he entreated. She kept backing away from him and created a forcefield to keep him from moving towards her.
“You can't help me,” she said and pressed a button on the thing in her belt.
BOOM
--
Remus jolted at the sound of thunder. He stepped out of the kitchen, holding a towel and clothes, and saw the rain pelting his windows. There was no way someone could go out in that torrent!
Then the man came out of the bathroom, still drenched and limping, but not covered in blood or bleeding.
“Shit.”
“Looks like you're stuck for a while,” Remus shrugged, “I brought you some stuff to dry off and wear. You can change in the bathroom and I'll get us some stew.”
The man looked at the bundle in Remus' hands and winced.
“I'll just go—”
“In this weather? With that limp? No way! You'll get swept up and blown away!—I’ll get some ice for your ankle too,” Remus cut him off and shoved the bundle into his hands. The man pouted adorably and sighed.
“Don't bother with the ice,” he said and lifted his left pant leg. Remus was shocked to see a prosthetic, but he wasn't going to judge. However, his mind would be reeling for a while.
“You go change and sit wherever you want. I won't be like my dick!”
“What?” the man yelped.
“I won't be long!” Remus giggled and trotted off. He made his way back to the kitchen and decided that he would serve up some delicious caldeirada de peixe and crusty bread. If he thought about food he wouldn't think about her, but he couldn't stop his mind.
--
Storage tanks exploded before his eyes, nearly blinding him as the shockwave rolled over him. He was fortunate that he could create an ice shield to protect him and Phoenix.
A shrill scream ripped through the air.
As soon as the dust settled, Kraken melted his ice wall instantly and surveyed the damage.
Jagged chunks of solid steel littered the flooded floor, some as large as televisions, some as sharp as katanas. And among the rubble he saw Frightening Gale close to the fire exit. She was stuck, her left leg trapped under a huge piece of metal.
He ran to her, not caring if she zapped him on his way.
“Hang on! I'll get this off you!” he said before he noticed the blood. A sharp edge dug into her calf, so far it sliced through the muscles and bones.
“There's no time! Just use your fancy splashes to finish the job! It's hanging on by a thread!” she gasped, trembling and crying behind the mask.
“I can take you to a hospital—the orthopedic surgeon owes me a favor, you won't go to jail, you can escape. You need both legs!” Remus argued, staring at the gory mess. His mind would have plenty of new material to torture him later.
“Cut it off! I don't need it!” she wailed, “I can cauterize it! Hurry!”
Kraken hated the way she screamed as he brought a blade of water to her injury. One clean cut and everything below her knee was severed.
“Fuck!” she wailed and brought her charged hands to her stump. She screamed as the electricity burned her flesh, stinking up the place. It was a miracle that she was still conscious and lucid.
“What are you gonna do now?” Remus asked both her and himself. After this mess, he was sure he would hang up the tights for good.
“Ah—fuck!—disappear,” she panted raspily, “Maybe I'll write a book or make a game—anything but work for that bastard!”
That was enough to ease some of the tension budding in the super splasher. She wanted to live.
She used her electric power to shape a different piece of scrap into a makeshift peg leg. Kraken would never stop being amazed by her talent, even if she used it for the wrong reasons.
“I'll make sure they know that you died. Enjoy your second chance,” he said and helped her to her feet. She was shaking and weak, but she was determined to flee.
“It won't be nearly as much fun without you,” she chuckled weakly, and summoned a piece of pipe from the rubble.
“Hold still and hold your breath,” Kraken said and surrounded her with a ball of spinning water. He washed away the blood and alcohol and let the water fall away from her.
“Thanks,” she sighed and balanced on the pole, shaking from the adrenaline.
“Don't mention it. Let me get you out of the building and then you can run wherever you want—or hop, or crawl, or limp.”
“Get your brother out of here instead. I'm blowing this place up and then you'll never see me again,” she said and hobbled toward the fire exit.
“That's not a good promise,” Kraken pouted, “I want to see you again, and when you find me, I'll make some food and we can catch up. I'd love to know if you like my caldeirada de peixe! It can warm up a yeti!”
She nodded and escaped out the door, into the rain. Kraken hoped they'd meet again.
--
Remus carried two bowls, spoons, a tureen of steaming fish stew, and a plate of crusty bread into the dining area on a serving tray. The storm outside was raging, pelting his windows while the wind howled. At least his mysterious guest was sitting by the fake fireplace, dry and exhausted, with his prosthetic under his chair.
Remus set the tray down and stood across from the man. He was curled up in the hoodie Remus lent him, and anxious.
“So what happened to you? Was it really a fight with a seal?” Remus asked.
“Do you see any seals around?” the man scoffed. Remus giggled and shrugged.
“I'll get to the point, did someone hurt you?”
“Why would I tell a stranger anything about that?” the man huffed.
“Oh! I didn't even introduce myself! I'm so silly! I go by Remus, and I run this joint,” he beamed, “Now I'm not a stranger anymore!”
“That's not how it works,” the man pouted. Remus giggled like he already knew that and pulled the lid off the tureen.
A warm, peppery smell filled the air, and Remus took a moment to enjoy it before grabbing the ladle and scooping some of the fish stew into a bowl. His guest was curious but hesitant, eyeing the reddened fish and potatoes.
“What is that?”
“Caldeirada de peixe, one of our best sellers and my personal favorite,” Remus beamed, “It’s fish and potatoes with peppers and tomatoes. I used sea bass in this batch. It'll warm anyone up in no time!”
The man stared at Remus with an unreadable expression. His eyes were glassy.
“Did you want me to fill your bowl or would you rather do it yourself?—You alright?” Remus asked as he grabbed the second bowl.
“Y-Yeah, you can do it,” the man stuttered and wiped his eyes, “Sorry, I had a friend who wanted me to try his version of this stuff. I haven't seen him in years.”
“Your friend has good taste,” Remus replied and filled up the other bowl. He set it down in front of his fidgeting guest and set a spoon beside it, before sitting beside him.
“Nah, he’s got weird tastes, except for food. He's a self-proclaimed creepy cuttlefish.”
Remus froze this time and stared at his guest. He only ever used that phrase with one person. He watched as the man pulled the spoon to his hand with electromagnetic force.
“I never did ask you your name, little birdie,” Remus said as a smile crossed his face.
“It's Virgil,” he said, fighting back a smirk.
“It suits you. Did you pick it out yourself?”
“Yeah,” Virgil said and scooped up some stew, “I decided to go with the name of my second favorite superhero.”
“Static Shock,” Remus mused as Virgil took a bite. He waited until Virgil finished swallowing before speaking up again.
“Who's your favorite?” he cooed, just to tease.
“The one who saved my life and gave me a second chance,” Virgil muttered, “The Kraken.”
“He's your favorite?” Remus asked, fighting back giggles.
“Yeah, you are,” Virgil said, finally making eye contact with him. Those eyes were so intense that Remus couldn't stop his cheeks from heating up.
“It's kinda funny,” Virgil continued, “I ran into some people from my old job and they recognized me, and then I ran into you. Is there anyone else around here who might know me?”
“My brother thinks you're dead, and that you're a woman—not that he would think that if he met you, he just remembers you pre-transition—he’s the only one I can think of, and he's back in the city.”
“You'll keep quiet about my past, right? I don't want to have to zap your memory.”
“I can do that, if you promise to stop by every so often. I'd love to have a gorgeous man visiting little old me!”
“I'll make sure I don't have to jump off a cliff and wash up on your shore,” Virgil smiled shyly and continued eating. Remus was right about his stew, it could warm up a yeti, and it certainly warmed Virgil up. Or maybe that was embarrassment from the way Remus gawked at him.
“How did you keep your metal leg when you jumped? The currents would have ripped it away,” Remus asked. He wouldn't put it past Virgil to do something reckless just to get away from trouble, in fact he thought it was hot.
“Electromagnetism and a great harness,” Virgil shrugged and grabbed a piece of bread for dipping, “This stuff is really good. You made it yourself?”
“I sure did! Caught and cleaned the fish myself and I made the broth from scratch,” Remus beamed, fine with changing the subject, “And I made the bread too. I'm glad you like it!”
“You can cook, you're smart, and you're kind. Your boyfriend is lucky if you have one.”
“I don't. I just can't seem to find someone to match my freak. I knew someone who could but there were some things that got in the way,” Remus said and poked at his food, “And I can't forget that avian personification of a horror sonnet.”
“Poetic,” Virgil mused and scooted his chair closer, “And a lot more refined than anything I'd come up with about my hero.”
“What would you say about the Kraken?”
“That he's the purest kind of hero and I want to corrupt him in the best ways,” Virgil admitted and stared at the table.
“I hate to break it to you, but I am corrupted!” Remus giggled, “And if you told me you want to thank me with your body, I would strip on the spot!”
“I'd rather just take you on a date and kiss you. But I should get going when the weather gets better. I don't want to put you at risk and I have to keep roaming.”
“You can stay here. It was worth the risk to save you the first time, and it's worth the risk now. I don't want you to disappear again. And you are taking me on that date, kissing me, and then you'll fall for me!”
Virgil cupped Remus' cheek and shook his head.
“Too late for that last one. Can I keep doing this in reverse?”
Remus nodded dumbly, letting Virgil lean in closer. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to Remus'. It was a short, sweet kiss, but it had Remus reeling.
“Thank you, Remus,” Virgil mumbled and pressed their foreheads together, “Thank you for everything.”
“If you keep this up, I might have to take you upstairs to cuddle and watch horror movies until we pass out,” Remus jeered, despite his red face.
Virgil kissed him again and hugged him.
“After dinner. I found my new favorite food and I want to enjoy my boyfriend's cooking.”
Warnings/Content: mtf!Virgil, genderfluid!Remus, sex mention, bickering
Vi and Remus are performing in Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and they have fun getting through rehearsal without getting their real feelings too mixed in
---
The stage was bright and burning hot. Vi was dying in her layers and layers of costumes, wishing she didn't have to wear that stupid blonde wig, with its stupid backwards curls that looked like lungs attached to her head. It was the last tech rehearsal and she was ready for a long nap.
The band behind her relaxed as she delivered her monologue, again, pacing across the stage, from the old Pontiac Firebird on stage left, past the band and the house in the background, to the tower of amps, stage door, and vanity set on stage right.
She was waiting for her cue to strike, for her co-star to be a brat. Remus was good at doing that in real life, so he didn't have to try hard. He was already combing another blonde wig, as scripted.
She heard Remus singing softly and spun on her heels. He was wearing the wig with a dreamy look on his face. In any other situation, Vi would have taken some time to admire just how cute he was. But her pause in this case, was meant to be indignant disbelief.
5…4…3…2…1…
“Was machst du da verdammt noch mal!?” she shouted into the mic she was holding. Remus blushed and removed the wig, placing it back on the prop shelf, and wilting. Vi was always amazed at how well he could force himself to blush like that—unaware that he was not forcing it or embarrassed.
She turned her attention to the empty audience and sighed.
“I’m sorry you had to see that my darling gentleners,” she said, “When I met him, he said he wanted to be a model.”
She peeked over her shoulder and tilted her head up and down, as if assessing Remus' looks. Unfortunately, he was adorable and handsome in his brown wig and leather jacket. Vi had to pretend she was looking at the character, Yitzhak, and not her roommate.
She swiveled her head back to face the audience, adding a little sass to her movements and added:
“A foot model, maybe—Enough about him, let's get back to the—”
“Bitch,” Remus muttered into his mic.
Vi glanced around obnoxiously, making light of the insult.
“Yes? Did someone call my name? I thought I heard my—”
“Bitch!” Remus repeated himself.
Vi glared at him. Remus surreptitiously looked around, trying to find the source of the insult and feigning ignorance. He was bold enough to move away from his mic and search even further, as scripted.
And as scripted, Remus opened the stage door. Immediately the sound of a concert crowd erupted over the speakers, only for a familiar voice to speak over the noise.
“—I realized there was only one person who had ever really been there for me in my life. And that person was me,” it was Vi’s voice, specifically her pre-training voice, recorded specifically as her playing Tommy Gnosis. She actually hated it, which made her next move all the more genuine as she ran to the door.
“The accident was a cry for help. I was yelling ‘Help!’ to me—” the sound cut out as she slammed the door shut and leaned her back against it, flustered and panting.
Vi took a second to right herself and fix her hair before addressing the audience.
“Well, what about me? Without me he never would've swerved into that oncoming short bus and got all that attention! Let me just take a second here, against the advice of my lawyers, Jacoby, Meyers and Lee Bailey…”
As she continued her monologue, Vi was acutely aware of the imp watching her saunter about the stage. She was pretty sure Remus wasn't interested in Hedwig's tale of reconnecting with her ex who she made famous, his career failures without her, and a drugged up car crash. Maybe he finally realized who she was emulating with her performance—the raunchy, unapologetic, unfiltered weirdo he always was, no matter what gender.
“So you can imagine, when the story broke, Tommy's people offered me a small fortune to keep all this to myself. As if I'd accept their filthy lucre. As if selling the story of someone else's pain was my only means of support. As if I hadn't already launched my new fragrance: "Atrocity." By Hedwig.”
And then an image appeared on the screen in the background. It was a simple golden perfume bottle silhouette imposed on a circular sandy background. Underneath the bottle, “Atrocity” was written in an outline sans serif font, in pink and all caps, while “by Hedwig” was underneath that, written in golden, rounded font.
“It's a fragrance for a man or a woman. Or a freak,” she said and motioned to the screen like Vana White on Wheel of Fortune.
“I digress. One day in the late mid eighties...I was in my early late twenties. I had just been dismissed from university after delivering a brilliant lecture on the aggressive influence of German philosophy on rock and roll entitled: ‘You, Kant, Always Get What You Want.’ At 26, my academic career was over, I had never kissed a boy and I was still sleeping with mom. The search for my other half on this side of the Wall had proved futile. Might he be found on the other?”
As Vi moved to center stage, talking about the perils of hopping the Berlin Wall, Remus was inching to his mic again. Normally they'd have his next few lines recorded, but Remus insisted that he said them live.
“Such were the thoughts flooding my tiny head on the day that I was sunning myself in an old bomb crater I had discovered near the Wall. I am naked, face down, on a piece of broken church, inhaling a fragrant westerly breeze. The new McDonalds has just opened on the other side. My God, I deserve a break today. All I ever get is the unhappy meal. The sun is hot, but I feel a sudden chill. I look over my shoulder. A head-shaped shadow is resting on the pillow of my ass,” Vi said and turned to the side, sticking out her ass and wiggling it.
Remus wolf-whistled before he could stop himself. Vi had enough cake to handle at least two weddings and he was not immune. At the very least he could claim it was ad lib.
“Girl, I sure don't mean to annoy you,” Remus purred into his mic, in the deepest, scratchiest register he could manage, “My name is Corporal Luther Robinson.”
“I turn my body to face him,” Vi said, happy that her face was buried under stage makeup. She knew that whistle was not just as lib, having lived with Remus for too long. The little pirate was obsessed with booty. Rather than start the scene from the top, Vi decided to press on.
“‘My name is Hansel.’ Luther is silent for a moment as he stares at my little bishop in a turtleneck.”
“Hansel. Well. You must like candy,” Remus said in his Luther voice.
“‘I like Gummi Bärchen,’” Vi said before going on about how Luther gave Hansel gummy bears—ones that were bigger and sweeter than the ones she'd known. She commented on the strange but delicious flavor and then…
“...He pours me a handful, his eyes heavy with an unfamiliar desire. Could it be a desire to please? Me? I suddenly recognize the flavor in my mouth. It's the taste of power. Not bad,” she added, twirling her hair around her finger.
“Damn, Hansel, I can't believe you're not a girl, you're so fine. Why don't you take the whole bag?” Remus purred, absolutely loving the opportunity to even pretend to seduce Vi.
“He searches my face for news of his fate. His expression is echoed in scores of tiny faces pressing against clear plastic. Panting faces of every imaginable color, creed and non-Aryan origin fogging up the bag like the windows of a Polish bathhouse. It's only a shower. Absolute power,” Vi continued, pausing at the end to slap herself across the face. She knew that the phrasing was meant to imply the horrors power could bring, but she had several reasons to loathe it.
“I push Luther away and stumble naked through the ruins, back towards blander, less complicated confections, leaving in my wake a trail of rainbow carnage.”
She paused for a moment and glanced around the empty theater before continuing,
“Next day, Hansel follows the trail back...and lying on my slab are three Milky Ways, a roll of Necco Wafers, some Pop Rocks, and a Giant-Size Sugar Daddy named Luther.”
While she swooned, the image on the screen changed to a pair of stick figures in a compromising position on a red background. And then the band played the opening chords of “Deutschlandlied.”
As soon as the music hit the high note after 10 seconds, it faded into a much funkier, 70s rock tune. The back lights faded between purple, blue, and green. Remus had to fight back the urge to squeal—this was the main reason he begged Vi to audition.
The spotlight was on her as she leaned on the mic stand, still holding her mic. This was the one part of the role she knew she wouldn't mess up. Singing on stage was second nature to her, although she usually had a guitar to shield her.
“I've got a sweet tooth, for licorice drops and jelly rolls,” she sang before dipping into a sultry purr, “Hey Sugar Daddy, Hansel needs some sugar in his bowl.”
Remus was dying behind her, unable to quell his thirst without biting his hand. God, one woman could not be allowed to switch from petty bitch to alluring temptress with so much ease, not when everything she did had him swooning internally.
“I'll lay out fine china on the linen, and polish up the chrome, and if you got some sugar for me, Sugar Daddy, bring it home!” she continued, pelvic thrusting with the beat.
She snatched the mic from the stand, thinking, “what would Remus do?” This was a performance and under the rhythmically flashing lights she couldn't be Vi. She twisted to face stage left and rolled her head to the side to give the audience a sultry gaze.
“Black strap molasses,” she cooed and ran her free hand from her neck to her crotch, “You're my orange blossom honey bear!”
“Sugar Daddy, Sugar Daddy,” Remus sang with Roman and Remy, amazed that he hadn't fainted.
“Bring me Versace blue jeans—” Vi turned her back to the empty theater, “—black designer underwear!”
She smacked her own ass as the backing vocals repeated. She faced stage right and pressed her tongue into her cheek, taking a deep breath. The next few moves she would have to make needed to be perfect.
We'll dress up like the disco-dancing
Vi strutted across the stage with an extra bounce in her step, swinging her free arm and swaying her hips with all the confidence of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever.
Jet set in Milan and Rome
She did a little spin when she reached the stack of amps and leapt onto a ladder hidden on the side of it.
“If you got some sugar for me,” she sang as she climbed to the top of the first amp, where a pole was waiting for her, “Sugar Daddy bring it home!”
Vi grabbed the pole with her free hand and hiked the opposite leg up, hooking her knee around it. She could not afford a mistake here.
Oh the thrill of control
She kicked off into a spin, pressing her thighs together around the pole.
Like a rush of rock n roll
It's the sweetest taste I've known
Remus was in awe watching her with a string of lights in his hands. Vi was so graceful, so beautiful, so strong. And then she got on her feet and pressed her torso against the pole, sensually arching back as her voice rang out over the speakers.
“Oh yeah,” she half-moaned before flinging herself around the pole in the opposite direction, “So come on, Sugar Daddy, bring it home!”
Vi jumped down from the amp, landing with the low bass note. She strutted to a spot marked with green tape and bobbed with the beat as Remus scrambled over and came up behind her. This was his deciding moment in this number.
Vi kept swaying and held the mic over her shoulder as Remus secured the string of lights around her waist. He still had to sing.
“When honey bees go shopping, it’s something to be seen,” Remus sang into the waiting mic.
“Sugar Daddy, Liquor Daddy,” Roman and Remy came in with the backing vocals.
“They swarm the wild flowers, and get nectar for the queen,” Remus sang and finished tying off the lit belt.
“Sugar Daddy, Liquor Daddy.”
Vi brought the mic back to her face and stepped away from Remus, sparing him from her next course of action.
“And every gift you bring me,” she sang and strode forward, swishing her hips sharply to make the string lights swing around her, “Gets me drippin’ like a honeycomb!”
Remus was back at his mic stand, trying not to lose his shit as Vi dropped her hips and squeezed her crotch.
“And if you got some sugar for me—” she jumped up again and stormed across the stage, “—Sugar Daddy bring it home!”
Vi had to keep channeling Remus, making a spectacle of herself on stage. She had to push her lungs to keep up with her fake swooning and fanning herself.
Oh the thrill of control
Like a Blitzkrieg on the roll
It's the sweetest taste I've known
So if you've got some sugar, Bring it home
Oh come on, Sugar Daddy, bring it home!
Remus wanted to ruin the whole performance and tackle Vi. He wanted nothing more than to smother her in kisses and worship the ground she walked on. If he could be her sugar daddy, he would throw away all his money in a heartbeat. He was too enamored, swooning as she switched to jumping in place, amping up the energy.
“Whiskey and French cigarettes! A motorbike with high- speed jets! A Waterpik, a Cuisinart! And a hypo-allergenic dog!” Vi practically shouted and made her way to the car.
“Oh, I want all the luxuries of the modern age, and every item on every page in the Lillian Vernon catalogue!” she sang and fell back onto the hood of the car as the music shifted and the lights turned pink.
Vi rolled on her stomach and faced Remus. This was his moment. The perfect chance to blur the line between acting and taking action.
“Oh baby,” he purred in his Luther voice and stared at Vi. She was focused on him and only him. He could hope that she was admiring him and devouring him with those beautiful blue eyes.
“Somethin’s crossed my mind, and I was thinkin’ you’d look so fine,” his raspy purr filled the theater, rumbling in Vi’s ears and making her heart race.
“In a velvet dress, and heels, and an ermine stole.”
“Oh Luther darling,” Vi hummed and swung her legs behind her, “I’ve never put on women’s clothes!—” she tilted her head sharply to the left, “—Except for once—” she tilted her head to the right, “—my mother’s camisole!”
Vi leapt to her feet on top of the car and gripped the mic with both hands. She locked eyes with Remus and sang in time with him.
“So you think only a woman can truly love a man?”
Vi jumped from the hood of the Firebird and landed on her feet, fully prepared to take over the entire show.
“Well you buy me the dress, I’ll be more woman than a man like you can stand!” she sang and posed like Botticelli’s Venus.
“I’ll be your Venus on a chocolate clamshell—” she threw herself forward to the front of the stage and acted like she was serenading a crowd, “—rising on a sea of marshmallow foam! And if you got some sugar for me, Sugar Daddy, bring it home!”
It's our tradition to control
Vi followed the script and went to annoy Remy as she continued the song. It was one of the few pleasures she could indulge in during the performance, and Remy hated it.
Vi faced the audience in a power stance, as Remus fell to his knees and clung to her leg, like a smitten dog, singing with her. She swayed left and right, as if trying to shake him off without ruining her performance, but he kept rolling with her movements. Remus would be happy to stay in this position forever, but the show had to go on.
Like Erich Honecker and Helmut Kohl
Vi whipped her leg out of his grasp and stormed to center stage, singing:
“From the Ukraine to the Rhône! Oh Yeah! Sweet home über alles, Lord I’m comin home! Oh Oh!”
The flashing spotlights behind her went off even faster as she stood as a monument, still bobbing with the music.
“Come on, Sugar Daddy, bring me home!”
The band played the closing riff and then all the lights, except for the background and spotlight on Vi faded out with the song, leaving her catching her breath and glowing.
“And cut!” Janus, the only person in the house, called out and rose from their chair. Vi immediately slumped over and let out a sigh she didn’t realize she was holding.
“Excellent work,” Janus said and adjusted their skirt, “Since we went through the whole thing once already, let’s take a break, get some lunch, and pick up from here in an hour.”
“I don’t need lunch!” Remus laughed, “I am feasting on Vi’s performance! Hot damn!”
Vi rolled her eyes with Janus. At least Remus was talking about the show she just put on and not her ass or something. That gremlin disaster just had to know how to make her blush.
“Bitch, I need food and coffee,” Remy butted in.
“Spare us your unfiltered libido,” Roman added, glaring at Remus. Remus stuck his tongue out at Roman, just to be a brat.
“Food. Now.” Vi huffed before the twins could get into a fight. She got off the stage with Nate, the drummer, wondering if Remus was watching her go. She hoped he was.
Of course he was. His favorite Violet Widow just owned the stage, and she made it look beautiful. He did not want this run to end, not when he could finally act on some of his feelings, even just for show. He would treasure the rest of tech and the next few weeks.
Warnings/Content: ftm!Virgil, kids, trans ocs, child pronunciation
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When he asked his roommate to pretend to be his boyfriend, Remus was expecting Virgil to either say no or freak out. After all, it was just an excuse for him to avoid his relatives asking him why he was still single. He would still be at the kids table at the reunion, if there were assigned seats. It didn't matter if he was absolutely smitten with the edgy snack.
“So,” Virgil said when they pulled up to Remus’ grandmother's home, “What's our story again?”
“It's simple, we met at one of my book signings and hit it off, and then you asked me out six months ago and let me tap that ass! And I moved in about two months ago because you can't stand the thought of not cuddling me to sleep!” Remus explained and wiggled his eyebrows. A little ridiculousness would make Virgil a little less uncomfortable.
“Alright,” Virgil said and unbuckled his seatbelt, “And Roman knows to go with this?”
Remus stared at him like he had four heads. Roman, of all people, was convinced that they were dating in secret for at least four months already! Didn't Virgil know what his best friend thought?
“Stupid question. I'm just anxious,” Virgil sighed and shook his head.
“It'll be okay!” Remus beamed and squeezed his hand, “We'll get through this and then you won't have to pretend to be into me!”
Virgil pouted and got out of the car, leaving Remus confused. He was the one who should be upset, he wanted Virgil and he had to pretend that this was just a scheme. He got out of the car wondering if he was pushing Virgil too far.
He was pleasantly surprised when Virgil grabbed his hand and led the way up the lawn to the backyard fence, which was covered in streamers and balloons. It was enough to wash away any doubts Remus had.
As they wandered up the stone path, Remus took in the familiar sights—the porch, the bushes, the old oak tree that towered over the wood fence. He remembered all the summers when he would play on the swings by the orange trees, how he always had to run to the pool and hide under water when he accidentally disturbed the bees.
He could recall all the times Roman tricked him into getting hurt with stupid dares, and all the times his oldest cousin, Phil would set up the fire pit and tell the twins stories under the stars with s'mores. Of course, not all of his memories were good, but there were enough to outweigh the bad.
“You ready?” he asked Virgil when they reached the gate. Virgil nodded stiffly and opened it before Remus could. He was nervous, and for good reason.
“Remus!” “¡Tío!” “Stinky!”
As soon as they saw Remus, three small children charged. Remus let go of Virgil’s hand and crouched down, spreading his arms wide.
He beamed when the trio crashed into him and hugged him. Virgil watched them with a small smile. There were two girls, one with dark coily hair and flowy sundress, one with long black pigtails in a purple swimsuit, and a boy with wavy chocolate locks in his bathing suit.
“Uncle Stinky!” the pigtailed girl cheered before her eyes drifted to Virgil.
“Stella!” Remus giggled in response and followed her gaze. She was staring at Virgil with stars in her eyes—he was in danger.
“Tisha, Diego, Stella,” Remus said, “This is Virgil, he's with me.”
“Hi,” Virgil said softly and rubbed his neck. That was all the invitation Stella needed to break free from Remus and launch herself at Virgil’s leg.
“You look like my mama!” Stella cheered and hugged his thigh, “Are you going in the pool?”
“Uh, maybe later,” Virge winced, lying through his teeth. He had his swim binder and trunks, but he wasn't going to risk showing that much skin if he looked like a woman.
“She’s my cousin Riley's kid, and her brother is around here somewhere too,” Remus explained and tilted his head toward the kids still hugging him.
“Tisha and Diego are my cousin Phil’s kids. Tia is going into the seventh grade next year—”
“Nuh uh! I'm going into second grade!” the little girl countered and escaped the hug. Her brother took the opportunity to try and climb on his shoulders.
“Second grade! Oops! I'm so silly!” Remus giggled and helped Diego get seated on his shoulders. He got up carefully and grinned at Virgil.
“And Dee here must be going into kindergarten!”
“Yeah!” Diego cheered and threw his arms in the air.
Remus chuckled and glanced out at the rest of the lawn. There were about twenty people scattered about for the time being, but four were approaching them.
“There you are!” a man in his early thirties laughed. He had perfectly coiffed dark hair and a princely smile. The old woman to his left was stout and tan with a warm smile. The person next to her was incredibly short with long black hair, a goatee, and obvious curves. They were carrying a toddler with glasses and a red baseball cap.
“Yo Phil!” Remus beamed, “These little guys are getting big! And Riley, your daughter made a new friend!”
“That she did,” the short one noted and eyed Stella, who decided that Virgil’s leg was the best thing to hug.
“Renny! This is Mr. Virgil! He's with Stinky!” Stella beamed. That comment got Virgil to relax a little.
“That's right!” Remus added, “Phil, Riley, Nana, this is my boyfriend, Virgil.”
Nana glanced him up and down and smiled knowingly. Riley was also giving him a strange look, but it was the little boy in their arms shyly peeking at him that had Virgil on edge.
“It's nice to meet you, Virgil,” Nana said, “Come, you should say hi to everyone else.”
Remus set Diego on his feet and grabbed Virgil’s hand. This was the hard part and he knew Virgil would be nervous. But they could get through this.
---
The reunion was in full swing and Virgil finally got a chance to get away from the crowd of relatives. He was content to enjoy the shade by the swings and watch Remus play with the kids in the pool, throwing them in the water and splashing around shirtless. The man was far too adorable for his own good, in his element surrounded by people.
The only other people near Virgil were the shy little boy from earlier and his mom, Viola. They were using the swings and were quietly playing. They gave Virgil some space, and stuck to themselves.
“Hey,” Viola said, getting his attention. Virgil was well aware that this tall goth woman wouldn't say anything to him unless it was important. He was sure she was being extremely careful because she was trans and because her son wasn't terribly social.
“What's up?”
“Can you keep an eye on Denny for a few minutes? I really need to use the bathroom, it won't be long,” she asked hesitantly.
“Yeah,” Virgil said and stepped away from the oak he was leaning against, “I'll keep an eye on him.”
Viola smiled meekly and helped her boy out of the swing. She muttered something to him and set him down before wandering off to find some relief.
Denny eyed Virgil and shyly approached him. Virgil crouched down, ready to listen if something was bothering him.
“Dino,” the little guy said and pointed to Virgil’s shirt. There was a yellow theropod dinosaur on it, surrounded by the words “Dance Gavin Dance.” That's when Virgil noticed that there was a T-Rex skeleton on Denny's cap.
“Yeah. You like dinosaurs?” Virgil asked and sat down. Denny nodded and shuffled his feet.
“What's your favorite dino?”
“Um, spineysory—an’ e-o-rapor—an’ allysory,” Denny muttered, expecting Virgil to say what all grown-ups said—that he had to pick one or that he was so smart for naming three.
“Huh, so you like the meat eaters,” Virgil mused. He was no expert but he at least knew allosaurus and spinosaurus, and that they existed at different times.
“Mhm,” Denny nodded.
“Can you tell me about them? I don't know a lot about dinosaurs.”
Denny nodded and sat next to him.
“E-o-rapor was a om’ivore an’ tiny. Lived in triassy in panjee wif ferapsids an crockies. An’ it's first ferapod dino.”
“How tiny was it?”
“Beegeel.”
“As small as a Beagle? That is tiny,” Virgil commented, “Are your other favorites small?”
Denny shook his head and scooted closer to him.
“Allysory was big an’ two leg’d,” he muttered, “it lived in jurassy in lar’mida. It eated big dinos but not bigges’ dinos.”
“The biggest dinos didn't live in the same places, did they?” Virgil asked, mostly guessing at this point.
“No but still couldn' eat bigges’. Allysory was seven’een feet tall. Supersory was fifysix feet tall. Too big to eat.”
By that point, Denny decided to sit in his lap so he wouldn't have to talk too loudly. Virgil let him get comfy without trying to touch him. Virgil was really nice and he didn't play rough like Remus. Remus was nice but loud, and he played with the other kids more.
Remus was finally able to take a break from playing with the other kids while they cooled down. He wanted to check on his fake date and make sure the plan was still working.
He wrung out his suit and grabbed his towel, glancing over at the swings. His heart melted at the sight of Virgil calmly listening to little Denny rambling. He was too distracted to notice Roman and Nana approaching him.
“He's a good man,” Nana said and placed a hand on Remus' shoulder, startling him, “And he looks like he would make a good father someday.”
“Virgil?” Remus questioned, “He would.”
“And that is something you can provide,” Roman jeered. The shirtless bastard was smirking at him knowingly. Virgil was not out to most of the people there, even if it was safe for him. The urge to break Roman's nose was strong.
“After they're married, Roman,” Nana chided, “it’s easier to adopt that way—if that's what you both want to do.”
“Nana!” Remus whined, realizing that she knew and knew how to be discreet, “Don't put that kind of pressure on me!”
She chuckled and ruffled his hair. She wouldn't push him, but she could see it in his eyes—Remus liked the idea.
“Dinner will be ready soon, so let those two know.”
Remus nodded and beamed at her before shoving Roman in the pool. Sweet revenge!
He trotted across the yard while Roman sputtered indignantly. He was happy to see Viola approaching the pair as well.
“Denny, it's almost dinner time, Nana said you can get your food first,” Remus heard Viola say as she crouched in front of Virgil and her son. He saw Denny curl up to Virgil and shake his head.
“Food is important,” Virgil said softly, “And I'll be around if you want to talk more about prehistory stuff.”
Remus was absolute goo. He was so used to Virgil being prickly and grumpy that he never imagined he had such a soft side.
“We'll see Mr. Virgil after dinner, Denny,” Viola said and gently scooped him up. Poor little guy was sad but he hugged his mom and let her carry him to the buffet table.
“Looks like you made a friend!” Remus giggled as Virgil got up. Virgil pouted at him and sighed.
“Is this really the best time to mock me?” he asked and crossed his arms. It was bad enough Remus caught him being soft, but the imp was showing off his hairy, toned chest, making it hard to think.
“I'm not mocking you!” Remus gasped and clutched his chest, “I'm genuinely impressed! Denny is the shyest little biscuit ever, and he likes you! I didn't know you were so good with kids!”
“Because you never see me around kids,” Virgil retorted and leaned against the tree.
“Exactly! Nana's impressed as hell—she’s dropping hints about marriage already,” Remus agreed. He was blushing at the thought, flustered and a little embarrassed.
“‘Marriage?’” Virgil squeaked and turned into a tomato.
“Yeah, I guess we laid it on too thick,” Remus pouted, “But you don't have to worry—I’m not trapping you with me.”
“You mean you're not trapping yourself with me,” Virgil corrected. No matter how many times Roman tried to nudge him into actually asking Remus out, Virgil absolutely refused. Remus was a lovable dork with a huge dating pool, and the rejection would make their living situation awkward.
“Nope!” Remus beamed, “I meant what I said. I'd be happy if you actually wanted to date me!”
“You would?” Virgil asked timidly. Remus paused and stared at him. Virgil was avoiding his eyes and fidgeting.
“Yeah, I would,” Remus responded gently and carefully took Virgil’s hands in his own, “Do you want to?”
“Y-Yeah,” Virgil said, finally glancing at Remus. His breath hitched at the sincere light in those hazel eyes.
“Can we kiss?”
Virgil shook his head and kissed Remus' cheek instead.
“Later. There are children here.”
“A little smoochy won't scandalize them!” Remus giggled.
“They're the most obnoxious spectators, right after old people. And they get everyone's attention,” Virgil explained.
“Can I still hold your hand and kiss your face? Without tongue!” Remus asked with a shimmy. Virgil snorted at his goofball and nodded.
Remus grinned and kissed his cheek, sorely tempted to go for that pretty pout instead. But he was a good boy, and he wouldn't try to fluster his Scare Bear too much.
“OOOOOOOOOOOoooh!” a tiny chorus of voices cooed impishly. Remus glanced at his three wily cousins and smirked. They were all getting thrown in the pool after dinner!
“Stinky's kissing Mr. Virgil!” Stella cheered and clapped excitedly, “I wanna be a flower girl!”
“Cheek kisses don't mean they're married!” Tisha huffed.
“But they could!” Stella argued. The girls got into a little back and forth that devolved into ‘yuh huh! nuh uh!”
Virgil and Remus shared a look and tried not to laugh. At least there were no other adults in the area to feed off their silliness.
“Hey, D,” Remus said in a mock whisper, “You should get some food before these two can take it all!”
Diego jolted and ran. He was hungry! Of course Tisha and Stella noticed and hurried after him, giving Virgil and Remus some privacy.
“They're cute,” Virgil noted, still holding Remus' hands.
“They sure are!” Remus agreed, “And they're great practice for when I become a dad—not that you have to help with that if you don't want to, though you have what it takes!”
“Slow down,” Virgil huffed, “It’s too soon.”
“It is,” Remus agreed, “We still have to spend the night cuddling with popcorn and Jigsaw, and we have to go out for breakfast, and you have to fall helplessly in love with me!”
Virgil pulled him into a hug and fought back his chuckles. Remus was making all the right offers to win him over.
“I'll make sure you enjoy all the traps I set for you,” Virgil muttered, “But let's get through this family thing.”
