Work Text:
Remus
Things had been going surprisingly well ever since they had been accepted.
Well, Remus hadn’t actually been “accepted”. He had just tagged along when Janus had switched sides. After the big reveal and the whole debacle with Morality going apeshit (more accurately, frogshit… he’ll think of something better), even the lights couldn’t bear the idea of leaving the Duke to live alone on the dark side of the mind palace.
They wanted to ease their guilt by helping the lost cause “change his ways” and “see the light”.
Hah! There’s a reason he’s classified as a lost cause.
But he didn’t need their pity. Sure, it was nice to have people around to share his ideas with and even help to distract him from the ever-raging swarm of grotesque and intrusive thoughts. And, yah, he could tell the others were starting to get used to him, they had even began to humor his less obscene suggestions (Logan himself had allowed him to cut into his arm to fiddle with the mechanics of his hand. He was fine of course, but that didn’t stop Patton from breaking out the first aid).
But he could tell he wasn’t entirely wanted.
He noticed when Virgil would turn up his music full volume whenever he would go into excruciating detail about the mating tactics of web-building spiders.
He noticed whenever Patton would force a strained smile whenever he presented to him his latest rough sketch of an anatomically correct male genitalia that he had perfected over the years.
He noticed when Logan would run his finger across the lines in his textbook over and over because he just couldn’t focus on the text with Remus constantly pestering him about whatever he was reading, only responding in brief, barbed statements as he struggled to satisfy his curiosity with as little conversation as possible so that he would finally leave him alone.
And even when Jan would tell him “do keep talking” during the rare movie sesh he would be invited to because he couldn’t help it if they’re was just too many plot holes or the perfect opportunity for a joke or certain dialog that he couldn’t help but interpret as an innuendo.
They rarely ever all got along, and even when they did, it was all too brief. But they still tried to include him, attempted to feign interest in what he had to say. He could tell it was strained. He wasn’t wanted around. He knew this.
Even if they wouldn’t admit it to themselves.
But yah, things had been going better than expected. He had honestly believed they would hammer nails through his hands and feet and hang him on a cross for being the sinner he was. Hanging there in shame until he ultimately bleed to death in front of everybody. Seemed fitting at the time what with all that religious bullshit they were always hearing.
But they would eventually realize he wasn’t needed. So, he wasn’t going wait around until they came to the conclusion themselves. He wasn’t patient enough.
___________________________
It started with the kazoos.
Him having an infinite supply due to possessing the ability summon one whenever he wanted, was the perfect opportunity for chaos. He only needed a handful to accomplish what he had planned, but he had to be smart.
He had found himself sitting on the couch lounging next to his brother who was going over some script for the next video.
Now was the time to strike.
Stealthily sliding one of the plastic instruments from within his sleeve, he put it up to his lips, and began playing.
He started with his iconic theme. Making sure to keep his gaze straight ahead as he hit all the notes he had spent months planning out before his big reveal. He had really pored his heart and soul into the tune and was actually very proud of it.
As he came to end of the introduction, he made sure to take a breath and hold the A flat for longer than necessary. Turning to look at his brother from the corner of his eyes, only to turn back once Roman started to look his way.
Before he could continue, the kazoo has pulled from his lips and placed out of his reach.
But Remus was prepared for this. As Ro turned back to his script, he slid a second kazoo from his other sleeve, held it to his mouth, and finished the intro. Just like the last one, his instrument was confiscated and discarded.
“That was almost impressive.” His brother stated before reading back over his written words.
Once his brother had looked away once more, Remus proceeded to pull another from his boot and started on a new tune, recognizable by those who payed attention, as Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) by MCR, a personal favorite that he shared with Virgil before he left them.
But the repetitive tune served to annoy his sibling just as well.
This one was quickly snatched from his mouth as well.
“Stop.” Roman stated, sounding a bit more agitated than before. But his growing irritation only fueled his chaos.
He retrieved yet another kazoo from within his shirt and dove right into Drunken Sailor. A song he new by heart, but never remembered learning. Even so, it was drilled into his mind, not to be forgotten anytime soon.
It was always strange hearing the melody that, while severely botched via the kazoo, still was recognizably familiar. The lyrics unconsciously playing through his mind like a karaoke machine that was shoved into his head and plugged into his brain (would the liquids in his body hinder the performance of the machinery or would the electronics kill him first?).
But whenever he would bring the song up, no one seemed comfortable enough to explain.
He knew Roman would recognize it seeing as he had caught him singing it to himself whenever he happened past him in their shared imagination. He would always find his brother walking near the border that split between their domain and, thinking he was alone, begin to serenade.
It seemed the song had the same impact on his brother, holding the same significance and familiarity.
Though his brother toke a more soft approach to the lyrics compared to Remus who, in turn, belted them out as if they were heavy metal.
As he played, he began to bounce along to the music. Quite enjoying himself at this point.
“Where are you getting these?!” Roman exclaimed as he yet again stole his instrument. But while he sounded irate, a visible smile was fighting its way on to his face, much to his own surprise. This was supposed to antagonize him, supposed to rile him up until he kicked Remus off the couch. Or before he ran out of kazoos. Summoning took a lot of work, you know.
But he wasn’t finished yet. He could tell Roman was just waiting for him to make the next move, completely ignoring the binder sitting open on his lap.
And he wasn’t one to disappoint.
This time, the instrument was pulled from within his hair. He decided to finish off with an overwhelmingly common tune. One that Thomas has learned all they way back in preschool, and one that Remus had made sure he’d never forget.
They had learned it from the old kids show that was always shoved in front of their face. “The Wiggles” performance of “Michael Finnegan”. The very last lines of “Shave and a Haircut, two bits” sticking with them to this very day.
As he played, he sung the words internally. Pausing after each note as to draw it out longer.
“Shave. And. A hair, cut-” But Roman was apparently ready, as before he could finish, the kazoo ripped from his hands, his brother triumphantly yet skeptically eyeing him as if daring him to pull yet another kazoo from some hidden pocket.
But this time, he leaned forward and plucked the toy from Romans own shoulder, having planted it there as soon as he had entered the room. All of his extreme efforts proving fruitful with just one look at Princes dumbfounded face.
He trumpeted the last two notes right in his brothers face, the smug satisfaction of duping the one with self-proclaimed “cat-like-reflexes”.
Then they sat in silence. Both inches away from the others face. Neither backing down form the other.
He expected a hissy-fit, and overly-dramatic exit. Or, at the very least, an eye roll.
But then, Roman smiled. A small grin. One that he was visibly holding back. But it couldn’t be helped. And soon, he was flashy a tooth grin. An ear-to-ear smile so wide, Remus could see his gums.
Then Roman broke down laughing. A full-on, howling belly laugh. Loud and cheerful. And extremely contagious. Because soon enough, he found himself joining in. Not his usual villainous cackle, but instead a joyous sort of snort before he, too broke down in hysterics.
This went on for longer than necessary. Both brothers going quite after a while before doubling over once again after simply looking at each other.
Finally, they collapsed in a pile of limbs, both brothers suppressing giggles and sniggers as they clenched their guts in pain resembling a knife to the gut. And even though his cheeks burned from overuse, he was still left beaming in the end. A few more seconds passed before Roman sat up, much to his disappointment.
Remus, instead, opted for rolling off the couch and flopping on to the carpet. The Prince chuckled at his antics before reaching over and tossing one of the kazoos in his direction. He picked up the red plastic toy in confusion as his brother picked through the pile from earlier until successfully acquiring the green nick-nack.
“I go baritone , you go soprano?”
The Duke, while still in the dark about what was going on, nodded anyways. Curious to see where his brother was going with this.
At his agreement, Roman began to play a familiar tune. The Drunken Sailor sounded off when played at a lower octave, but it was unmistakable. After a couple beats, he joined in, contributing the higher notes so that it would come together seamlessly.
It almost scared him how, after all this time, they stayed perfectly in sync. Each making sure to keep the beat steady and consistent while also giving the other a chance to riff a bit when it came to it. It would later remind him of a classic case of hive mind, this almost-telepathic, unspoken communication between them, but he wasn’t thinking about that then.
And for a second, everything was forgotten. The years spent apart, the miles of distance between them. Their insecurities and doubts. All of it washed away and in a single instant, they were simply brothers. Simply creativity. Simply there in the moment.
And they played on.
.
.
.
“What will we do with a Drunken Sailor?”
“What will we do with a Drunken Sailor?”
“What will we do with a Drunken Sailor?”
“Early in the mornin’.”