Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Virgil isn’t… that unusual really.

He has all the necessary limbs. (More or less.)

“Logan, be careful! The road!” he pulls his friend and current date just out of the way of the road. The potentially deadly road full of giant fucking metal monsters that grunt and growl and sometimes explode. 

But Logan is fine with walking through those, not a care in the world. The ground is hard and hot and that’s not a metaphor, that is very literal, it’s smack dab in the middle of Summer.

The Sun is bright. Someone driving could be blinded and crash and everyone would die and his entire world would be over.

Virgil relocates their date.

“This is not a restaurant,” Logan comments as they cut through a familiar alleyway. “This is very much not a restaurant. I may not have my glasses with me but I am fairly sure this is not, in fact, what I was promised.”

“It’s better than a restaurant,” Virgil says. “It’s safe.”

“Unless you are taking us to a store to buy ingredients to cook with, this is not in fact what I have been promised,” Logan continues.

“But safety though.”

“Need I remind you according to our fifteen page long contract that I am owed,” Logan pulls out a piece of somehow perfectly preserved paper from his pocket. There is not a single wrinkle in that tree corpse pulp. “At least one meal. And a kiss. Tokens of affection and courtship. But only if you consent to either. Is consent retracted—or perhaps,” Logan pauses, hesitant. “Was the contract and agreement…too much? Is…perha—Virgil, do you have any objections to our currently signed contract?”

Virgil fell in love with this man. Currently falling more in love by the moment. His normal human face is flushed with blood and his functioning heart beats faster than normal—

Is this a panic attack or joy? Virgil ponders. Am I about to have a heart attack or do I want to kiss this man?

The answer is both, maybe at the same time.

“Dude, I have literally the opposite of an objection,” he barely even flinches after saying that.

But…actually, is he a dick? Is he a jerk though, since he did kind of take them away from the restaurant and violate the contract and DID HE NEED TO READ THE CONTRACT IN FULL??

Should he have read the contract in full? It was kind of boring. He didn’t really read any of the nonessential things. He only really read the stuff about Logan’s likes and dislikes and the stuff about kisses and the stuff about eyes.

Logan seems to recognize that Virgil needs a moment to bump his shoulder into a nearby wall and remind himself how the fuck moving works. Hmm. This is a very terrible wall that could collapse very easily and would be awful to eat near and he’s pretty sure he can hear a rat on the other side.

Virgil decides, in the fog of half thought through panic, to ram himself harder into the wall.

Logan stops him, muttering something that is both vaguely comforting and also absurdly technical. Then he shares a fun fact—which means that he’s got 0 fucking clue how to continue the conversation.

When Logan gives out a fun fact it’s either the start of an infodump or a nervous habit. In both cases, listen as well as you can and share some weird shit you know.

“Virgil, I respect your ability to choose, but are you sure that this is the best course of action?” Logan asks, concern etched into his face. It makes everything worse and better. “Did you know that—Virgil? Virgil, I am much like a bonobo in that, Virgil…Most great apes do not enjoy swimming. Because of their higher muscle density.”

“Logan, this wall will not taste good,” Virgil replies, leaning against him. Good. Real person with a real body and the correct number of limbs. Lovely. Logan breathes—in a never ending, soothing little rhythm. “Logan walls taste like shit so—so yeah. Thanks. No drowning or walls for either of us.”

“…did the roads make you nervous?” Logan asks.

Oh, shit, thinks Virgil.

Virgil—ordinary human being extraordinaire and practiced in the art of being perfectly normal—picks Logan up and runs away.

Yep. Normal response from a normal person who’s very used to roads and giant metal monsters and hard rock paths and walls.

Virgil ends up in a field. Somehow. He doesn’t know how, because the nearest park is nowhere near the direction he was heading, but there is lush green grass and the Sun is dim in the sky and it's the perfect dusky sunset.

The air tastes like crisp, cold static. He can smell a rat scuttling somewhere nearby. He can hear a small bird chirp.

His mouth waters and he regrets running away from the road. 

“Wolves aim for the hindlegs on bigger prey,” Logan notes from his arms. He’s chilling, content with the turn this has taken. “Shall you aim for the hindlegs?”

“Preferably not, since I’m not trying to kill you. Eating humans is frowned upon, Logan.”

Logan frowns, scowling slightly. “I could’ve sworn my research was correct. This should’ve been perfectly romantic. Did we need a bigger contract?”

“We need less cars,” Virgil explains. “More small birds. For the atmosphere, yeah, and about a dozen bleeding deer.”

That’s a joke. Mostly.

“Bleeding deer? How bold of you,” Logan reaches up to adjust his glasses before remembering that yes, he did leave those behind. Because Virgil asked him to. “I would expect that you start with bleeding mice,” Logan stares at him with a terribly soft grin that borders on a smirk. Smug—very smug. “Build up to the deer, dear.”

Virgil puts Logan down. “You do know what you just did right?”

“Become statistically and objectively the most viable, ideal mate?” Logan guesses with a hopeful, giddy grin. He only looks like that when he finds out a cool bug fact or when he spots an obscure, rare, interesting animal.

It’s directed at Virgil this time, instead of an intriguing clump of moss, and that fact is actually embarrassingly amazing. Dizzying affection pools in his heart. His human heart, of course and not any other kind of heart he may or may not be harboring.

“You made a pun, Lo.”

Logan’s smile falls. Devastation scores down across his face, horror and shock and grief all at once. “No,” he whispers. 

“It’s—Logan, it’s ok.”

“It will never be ok again,” Logan declares. “Never. I cannot believe y—no. No, I cannot be myself. Virgil, tell no one of this accident.”

“I, my guy, dude, man, you, uh,” Virgil searches his brain for words a normal person says. “Brodunski.”

Logan snaps into focus. “Inform me like one of your french girls, sheriff.”

“Pardon my grammar, what the fguck?” 

“Is this—is this not normal?” Logan looks so genuinely confused that Virgil almost finds himself wondering. Is Virgil just that bad at knowing social norms? Maybe they're both just shit at that. “Virgil, I was under the impression that for you humans this was ideal mating behavior.”

“Wait, what do you mean for humans?” Virgil laughs with a normal amount of echo to his voice. And a normal amount of limbs. “Logan, we’re both human. Real humans.”

Logan squints at him. “Virgil, is this a joke? I thought we both were aware of my less than human species? As well as of my eccentricities—my fondness for research.”

“What?”

Chapter Text

“….” Logan doesn’t respond as Virgil places him gently onto the ground.

Logan doesn’t respond as he stares expectantly into his eyes.

The silence stretches, long and unwieldy, for a few unbearable moments before Virgil has to break it. “So there’s been a bit of miscommunication.”

Yeah. Understatement of the fucking century. Virgil internally scolds himself.

“Yes, indeed there has been,” Logan sighs. “So…you are human and thought myself to be human?”

Virgil is not in fact a completely ordinary man.

Virgil shakes off his hoodie and exposes an absolutely unnecessary number of limbs. “Yeah…might’ve been a bit of uh. I think we may need to talk this out.”

“My contract is useless now,” Logan sulks. “I worked so hard on it but if it was created under false pretenses of species then…”

Virgil stamps a hoof to the ground. “Literally we don’t need a contract.”

“Hmm. I suppose,” Logan shrugs off his suit and exposes fluttering clear wings. A fae.

Virgil signed a contract with the fae and he didn’t even know it.

Virgil is a dumbass.

“At least now I get to research centaurs,” Logan has a look of elation on his face that he usually reserves for incredibly shiny shells. “Tell me, do you have two rib cages and one heart? Or is your body supported mostly via magical forces?”

“Dude, I barely passed eighth grade biology. I don't know why you keep expecting me to know this shit,” Virgil shrugs, flicking his tail. “As far as I know I’m flesh and blood.”

Logan makes a humming sound, musical and lilting, and Virgil wonders what the fuck kind of magic he’s casting to make his heart beat so fast.

Virgil sits down, ears twitching at the squeak of mice and eyes darting across the field as he spots scuttling movements.

Something darts near his legs and he startles, shooting back up and scanning the grass.

A mouse climbs onto Logan before perching itself onto his shoulder. It glares at Virgil.

“This is a courting gift,” Logan smiles. “I had…assumed you knew that.”

Virgil drops the fake voice since apparently they’re both being honest now. ”So,” he murmurs. “Would the step above mice be uhm…rabbits? Or voles?”

It’s a deeper, echoey voice that wraps around itself. It’s much easier to speak in but it’s also not even remotely a normal thing. 

Centaurs are weird but mostly their body is weird, not their voice weird.

“Any small rodent from you would be very appreciated. Besides, it’s not like we’re following many traditions anyways,” Logan shrugs. “The contract, though, is nonnegotiable.” 

The mouse bursts into incredibly enraged complaints, gesturing with tiny paws at the sky and then at Virgil and then glaring at Logan. 

“That,” he backs away. “That is a fucking demon mouse.”

Logan clicks his tongue, gossamer wings fluttering a bit faster. “No, demonic influence is a much more interesting phenomena. This fellow is a cursed human I’m gifting you. For about two days—the curse doesn’t last much longer.”

The mouse strikes a dramatic pose, little arms and legs struggling to hold a smugly triumphant stance. It's looking down on him. Virgil can almost smell judgment in those beady little eyes. 

He snaps at the mouse. 

“Oh,” Logan pauses. “Did I…is the courting gift not ideal? Would you prefer a shrew or perhaps a spider? Or a small animal that is more permanent and not…well…I thought you’d like the effort put into the curse—“

“I love the gift Logan, thank you so much,” Virgil only kind of lies because Logan should never look like that. That is an awfully painful expression and it’s terrible and it should never happen again. 

Then again, this is arguably kidnapping. No, wait, he’s pretty sure it's actively kidnapping. 

Oh well. He’ll just let the poor schmuck go after the two days are up.

The mouse squeaks even more indignantly, waving around a tiny stick. It’s angry but even Virgil isn’t intimidated by this. There’s small but deadly, and then there’s just pathetic. 

“Roman!” Logan scolds. “Be polite. You have my apologies,  Virgil, for his lack of etiquette.” 

Virgil wonders idly where the hell he’s going to keep this guy. In a cage? In a hole? His roommates are going to notice the squeaks of rage no matter where he puts this mouse.

Then there’s the whole ‘going to transform into a very angry human’ thing. 

“So,” Virgil hesitates to say. The mouse—or Roman, rather—is brandishing his sharpened twig again. “What do you want me to do with him when he’s y’know,” Virgil gestures. “Big.”

Logan hums, a lovely sound, “I guess that would be up to you. I didn’t expect you to ever kill him but I did wonder if you would have him dance until he collapsed. You could engage in debates or poems, when he gets his voice back. I’ll pick him up and transform him into a rabbit after one and half days have passed but you won’t have for him to recover his voice after the first time.”

Roman looks incredibly upset at this. Which is fair, but Virgil is not going to make Logan sad.

On one hand, Logan is kidnapping people and transforming them against their will and just implied he’s willing to kill people. But on the other hand, he’ll be so sad if Virgil denies the gift and he looks so happy right now…

Roman will be fine. Probably.

“You can’t fix him!” the mouse squeals in a high pitched squeaking. “LET ME GO!”

Virgil shushes the mouse with a hushed, “Dude, don’t ruin this for me.”

‘Fix’ Logan? He doesn’t want to fix Logan.

Nothing is wrong with Logan. 

Sometimes you kidnap people. And that’s…not ok but they’ll handle that later on in the relationship. 

Virgil has a realization.

He needs to get Logan a gift. A courting gift. For FAE and not humans.

Virgil is a dumbass but he’s a dumbass in love, he’s already signed a contract, he’s willing to sign it again, and he needs to find a gift right now.

“Logan,” Virgil gravely announces. “Logan, do you want a traditional fae gift or a shiny rock or…?”

“Your presence in my life is gift enough,” Logan says.

Sweet. But very uninformative.

“What is wrong with you?! You and your evil boyfriend!”

Virgil gestures meaningfully at Logan’s face and body. And then at his wings. And then at himself. 

Roman nods in angry understanding as Logan languishes with perfect skin and amazing features. 

“There shall be no amusement from the likes of me! Not for you evildoers!” Roman speaks like the protagonist of a badly written kid’s film. “I shall confine myself to silence and entropy until you free me.”

Logan grabs Roman and hands him to Virgil.

Virgil panics as soon as he’s holding onto the once-man now-mouse, thoughts racing, ears pressed back in panic. 

Oh fuck.

What if he kills this guy? He can’t have murder on his conscience! It’s one thing to enable a murder, it’s a whole other thing to actively participate in one!

Kidnapping is…

Again, can be addressed later when Logan’s pouty sad face doesn’t make Virgil immediately forget his morals. That’ll happen soon. Probably. Roman can wait until then.

“You are pathetic,” insults Roman. “And I shudder to think of what your mother would say if she saw this!”

“My mother was part siren and actively ate people so…” Virgil trails off, sending the unlucky sacrifice a ‘what can you do’ look. 

Roman throws his mousy paws into the air before pacing in angry circles on Virgil’s palm. “I had a whole DAY to go through! THINGS TO DO! To eat!! DOCUMENTS!”

Logan looks horrified. “Oh gravity wells, did I interrupt documents?! Roman, you have my dearest apologies for the time you’ve lost, I was not aware you had documents.”

“DOCUMENTS TO STARE AT AND WONDER WHEN I WOULD GET A NEW STORY IDEA!” Roman shouts, throwing his stick at Virgil’s face, and ruining any ounce of sympathy he’d managed to gain.

Logan snatches Roman away in a blink of an eye. “I am so—”

“Wait! Wait, wait,” Virgil digs a hoof into the ground kicking up dirt and dust. “Logan, it’s fine. I still want him.”

“I AM NOT A TOY TO BE BARTERED OR A SACRIFICE AND I WILL HARUMPH AT YOU! HMPH!”

“See,” Virgil insists. “Hilarious.”

“Hmm,” Logan hums again. “Hmph. I suppose I’ll  let it slide.”

Roman glares at Logan again and Virgil wonders if this fucking guy has any sense of self preservation whatsoever. “Thanks, Lo. What kind of berries do you like—yew? I think there are some decorative yew bushes on the other side of town!” Virgil offers to distract from the moise.

“Yew are a fiend and a scoundrel,” Roman continues insulting from within a very angry fae’s hands. Making puns. While being held. By Logan.

Virgil makes sure to laugh and laugh loudly because he’s pretty sure if he doesn’t sell this as hilariously amusing then Logan is going to murder Roman. 

He stares Roman in the eyes and tries to convey both ‘I’m trying to keep you alive,’ and ‘For the love of god don’t ruin my date,’ all in one desperate gaze. 

“Yew is poisonous I’m pretty sure,” Roman says as he shatters Virgil’s dreams and crushes his hopes underfoot. “Not that I’d care if you die to yew berries but still. That’s poison.”

“Virgil, please tell me you have not been eating berries which are confirmed to be highly,” Logan’s wings are flapping up a storm, his hands tapping Virgil’s lower shoulders. “And I do mean highly toxic to both humans and horses and especially to the average centaur. Please. You can’t have done that, right, dear? Right?!”

“See, now I want to lie about this,” Virgil looks away. “Now I’m feeling judged. This is unfair. You can’t judge me for poison, I’m simply built different.”

Logan makes a despairing noise and no. Oh, that’s awful. That is literally the worst.

Virgil picks up Logan and leans in close to him.

It’s very nice for the few moments where it goes uninterrupted. 

“I AM STILL CURSED,” Roman complains for no reason, ruining Virgil’s chances at getting a kiss. “FOR THE LOVE OF DISNEY ITSELF JUST UNCURSE ME!”

“I am,” Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “So sorry. I must admit that I regret choosing such a loud human as a gift.”

Virgil pats Logan on the back and pretends like this was definitely what he was aiming for.

“Still, we can always have our meal tomorrow. If tomorrow is amenable to you?” Logan asks, cautious but hopeful. And gods only know it’s

impossible to say no to that. 

“Tomorrow would be very amenable. If…you can forgive me for ditching our restaurant today.”

Logan sighs, beaming like gentle moonshine or like a touch of cool frost or like something else incredibly pleasant but subtle. He’s leaning close enough for his breath to fan out against Virgil’s face.

And it really is very nice but his breath smells like peppermint, feels unnervingly cold, and Virgil is seized by the urge to lap at his nose. But that would be awkward, he’s sure of it, so he doesn’t do that except now…

They’re just staring at each other and waiting for someone to make a move.

“YOU TWO ARE SHIT AT THIS!”

“Shut. The fuck. Your mouth,” Virgil hisses at Roman. 

Logan pecks him on the cheek. Suddenly, he’s warm and cold and this is a lot but it's also nothing at all but—

He presses a kiss to Logan’s forehead and thinks of temperature equilibrium and decides to look that up so he can tell Logan about it later. Look smart. Look real smart even though he can do nothing but stare at Logan right now and try very hard to ignore the complaining mouse man that he’s contributing to the kidnap of.

Oh god, he’s in love. Oh god, look at Logan’s face, look at his eyes, those are very nice eyes and he’s pretty sure he’s about to go into cardiac arrest over a bit of kissing and that would be the worst death ever.

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

Logan’s the one who shushes Roman this time and Virgil ponders the possibility that maybe, just maybe he should think more about this whole kidnapping deal.

“What are we doing with this guy?” Virgil asks. “Like, after all the courting stuff. Can I let him go?”

“Untraditional but yes,” Logan is still smiling as he turns to him. “He is yours now. A gift is a gift and Roman…well, let’s just say he has already given me his name. So the decision was mine—and now I’m making it yours.”

“…how long does the ritual last?”

Logan’s eyes glow with a faintly eager light. “Roughly two weeks,” he holds out an open palm, the way he always does when Virgil asks him for information. “Two weeks but potentially a month if we wish.”

Two weeks. 

Is Roman going to actually live through that? The magical transformations themselves aren’t all that risky or painful but his chances of being murdered by Logan are high and rising every second.

“A month?!?”

“Do me a favor and,” Logan pulls out a flashing card. “Shut up.”

“NEVER! EVERY TIME YOU COMPLAIN I SIMPLY BECOME LOUDER!!”

Oh, Virgil realizes. This dumbass is going to get his ass killed and the guilt of that murder will ruin my date worse than any squeaking ever could.

“This was an amazing first date Logan,” Virgil admits, kneeling down on his lower limbs. Logan rolls out of his arms and onto the ground with Roman in hand. Privately, he winces at his recklessness. “And uh—many more will happen. Maybe soon? If it fits your schedule.”

Logan gets back up, dusting off his skirt. “It always does,” he says softly with a glint to his eyes. “My schedule will always open up for a courting event with you. Say, do you want to hold onto Roman or shall I?”

“I want to keep him, yes,” Virgil nods and tries not to look too desperate to have the mouse man. 

Something tells him Logan and Roman shouldn’t be around each other too often. For the sake of all parties involved.

Roman is violently hurled at him, landing in Virgil’s hands with a small thump and a loud, distressed keen.

Logan needs to be kept away from Roman for as long as possible. 

That’s a lot of malice. Virgil would comfort this poor guy by telling him it isn’t personal…

But that would be a lie because this is somehow the most personal hatred he’s seen Logan have towards someone. It’s almost impressive that Roman managed to anger him that badly. 

Logan is hot when he’s angry.

But mostly concerning, of course, because Virgil has only mostly abandoned all semblances of morality for cute faerie ass.

Logan disappears in a flurry of light and cold, leaving behind a slight static in the air and a budding, terribly strong affection.

Logan’s scent lingers, a fresh water chill. The scent that comes before rainfall.

Chapter Text

“Let me go! Your evil conspirator is gone , so you’ve NO excuse for my torment!” Roman somehow got his little paws on a second, bigger, sharper stick in the time Virgil spent staring into space and contemplating his crush-turned-date.

“Wait, if you went down there and got yourself a twig—”

“SWORD!”

“A pathetic excuse for a sword,” Virgil helpfully amends. “Then why the fuck are you still here, man? You could’ve scuttled off.”

“If I’m to leave, it will not be by scuttling, it will be through glorious, honorable combat! I scuttle nowhere, villain!” Roman rambles on and on. “Also I’m cursed to stay here. My adversary was clever indeed, clever indeed…”

“Are you just like this or did becoming a mouse scramble your brain?” Virgil starts gently trodding his way back to the apartment. He vaguely recognizes this field and the way out of it, despite being fairly sure that he’s never actually been here before.

“Like what?” 

Virgil is silent for several minutes after this.

“No, tell me,” Roman says once they pass through the alleyway with the unsafe walls.

“TELL ME!” Roman shrieks as Virgil launches into a proper gallop.

“Bitch, that cannot be good for you,” Roman notes as Virgil kicks in the door to his apartment and throws himself into his room before his roommates can ask questions. “How do you even live in the city with hooves?”

Virgil stares.

Roman doesn’t stop. “Do you have enchantments or shoes? Enchantments on horse-shoes—wait. If you’ve got horse shoes, then you’ve got built in luck, huh?”

“You know what else is lucky?” Virgil sets the incessant kidnapping victim onto the table and reminds himself not to be a dick about this. “You’re a rabbit next, right?”

“Rabbit’s feet are very hazardous to collect, I’ll have you know,” Roman is smirking as well as a mouse can smirk. Which is to say: Not very well, but Virgil can practically feel the smugness radiating off him. “I would kick you. Hard!”

Virgil hears this stunning logic and decides to leave, muttering a half-assed “Don’t leave the room.”

He sees Deceit and Remus.

Two people who just. Just saw him without his disguise on and who saw him while he was standing still. It can’t be an illusion or a trick of the light if he’s just standing still.  There’s no way to spin this that makes him look like anything but a dumbass.

“You two,” Virgil groans, rubbing at his temple. “Why are you up right now?”

The totally normal human who just saw him glares with his yellow contact lenses. His pupils are blown wide. His oddly long tongue pokes out of his lips. “Hmm. Your hoodie is gone.”

“Wait your a fucking centaur? Do you have a h—?”

Virgil walks up to Remus and then simply moves him from inside of the house to outside of the house. He slams the door shut, tail sweeping across the ground. 

“I swear Remus has to be some kind of magic thing,” Deceit muses. “Have you ever seen the man breathe?”

Virgil laughs and laughs hard. “Ha. Ha. Haaaa. But magic isn’t real,” he grins with gritted teeth and tries to shuffle his hands in a way that hides his horse body. 

“Oh my goodness gracious!” cheers the talking mouse. On the ground. Having scuttled out of his room. “Remus is human I’ll have you know! And my brother! You—you two are terrible at hiding your magic!”

“Deceit is literally human,” Virgil snorts. “Roman, you're dim but you're not that dim. Deceit isn’t even remotely magical, I’d be able to tell.”

“If anyone’s magical it’s Remus. That guy barely even bothers hiding his weird shit.”

Virgil nods earnestly. “I’ve seen him try to swallow the neighbor’s cat whole. The only real question is what kind of creature he is.”

“I bet my incredibly primate shaped ass that Remus is secretly an incubus,” Deceit licks his lips.

Virgil…stares. For many moments. 

Deceit shrinks away with a hiss, blankets shifting as he curls in on himself, embarrassed. “His prey swallowing is…efficient.”

“Gross, gross, gross,” Roman wags the stick at Deceit. “You are disgusting and a scoundrel and I want you far, far away from me. Noble steed, take me away!” he barks a command at Virgil.

Virgil stares. 

“If you do this I’ll…” Roman taps his stick against the floor, pacing in a circle. “I shall… help …in your journey to wooing your evil fairy boyfriend.”

“Virgil, are you courting a fae?!” Deceit startles, shooting right up into the air. His blankets follow him as he hurries across the ground, seizing Virgil by his horse shoulders. It’s awkward because that’s also his waist, kind of. “Virgil, you animal!”

“His fae boyfriend fucking kidnapped me after turning me into a mouse!” Roman rages. 

“Huh. I thought you were unusually small but I didn’t want to judge,” Deceit lowers himself onto the ground and flicks his tongue out at Roman. “You do look tasty though. Much more appealingly delicious than any of these primates.”

“I can’t decide if that’s a compliment or not,” Roman doesn’t do the reasonable thing and run away. No, Roman the Absolute Fucking Moron instead chooses to dramatically strike a pose, leaning on Deceit’s face.

Virgil stomps his way over, almost decapitates his roommate, and sweeps one (1) mouse into his hands. “I…just. I have had my cover broken in so many ways but a magical talking mouse is just a new low. This is a new low for me.”

“I’M BACK BITCHES—woah is that my brother in mouse form?” Remus says, climbing through a now shattered window.

Great. There goes everyone’s money. 

“SCOUNDREL AND CUR AND VILLAIN ALL TOGETHER!” Roman launches into another monologue. “OF COURSE!! SINNERS AND RABBLE AND—“

“So Virgil I took your x-ray from the nearby secret underground monster hospital,” Remus holds up important documents. “And your top half is mostly meat and I just wanted to borrow some. For science purposes, yes, and not for chewy delicious eating.”

Roman leaps out of Virgil’s hands and tries to strangle Remus but fails because of his short little mouse limbs.

“Didn’t you say you were gonna get down and dirty with the gentry, Roman?” Remus waggles his eyebrows, twirling a mustache so fake Virgil has to wonder how it’s even attached to his face. Glue? Magic? Probably blood. “Fuck, no wonder you ended up so mousy!”

“Class traitor!” Deceit hisses in the background. 

Roman shrinks back as the fact he tried to get with the fae sinks in.

“Dude,” Virgil blurts out. “Dude, what the actual fuck?”

“HAVE YOU SEEN LOGAN’S PECS?? CAN YOU BLAME ME??”

“YES AND THEY ARE FUCKING PERFECT!” Virgil shouts back. “I AM FUCKING AWARE ROMAN BUT MY MAIN CONCERN IS HOW IN THE GODDAMNED HELL YOU’RE STILL ALIVE??”

“The Sun let me live another day,” Roman shrugs. “I figure it’s my duty as a noble, upstanding man to make that the problem of everyone in my nearby vicinity.”

“Stop talking like a fucking thesaurus,” Remus cackles. 

Virgil is shocked by how well Roman manages to convey giving someone the middle finger while stuck in mouse form. Like that is an actual talent, someone should commend him on that shit.

“No, literally, how?” Virgil prompts again as Roman starts attacking his brother. “Dude, Logan is literally the least fatal choice of fae to flirt with and that’s just because he can’t take a hint to save his life.”

It took actual honesty and communication to get that date. As well as at least a year of on and off talking, missed hints and pining.

“Remus, I can’t believe you were related to a class traitor and never told me,” Deceit is sulking in a corner. “This is the last time I pour my heart out to an incubus without a gag reflex.”

Remus blinks. “Is this because of naga beauty standards or because of b—?”

Virgil decides to cut this conversation short by nabbing Roman then throwing Remus back out of the window.

He levels a look at Deceit.

“Fine, fine,” Deceit sighs, delicately climbing out of the house, his trademark ‘tail’ of blankets trailing behind him. 

Roman looks severely traumatized. 

Chapter Text

“Mood,” Virgil says to the hyperventilating mouse.

“WHY WAS MY BROTHER HERE?” Roman freaks out.

“Capitalism,” Virgil sagely answers. “And because we couldn't find a way to get rid of him when he first snuck in here. Janus is attached. He’s like a feral cat.”

“More like a scoundrel dog, encroaching on my life after I told him to never ever be in the same town as me.”

“Damn,” Virgil says. Please, please don’t share your backstory, Virgil thinks.

“It all started when Remus stole my beloved Mrs. Snuggle bottoms, exactly eighteen days, two hours and five minutes from now,” Roman starts. “I banished him from my realm and disowned him and wrote him out of my will. I didn’t have a will before then but I wrote one just to write him out of it.”

“Oh, wow that’s crazy,” Virgil invokes the sacred words of all socially awkward people trapped in a conversation they never wanted to be in. “Do go on.”

Do not go on, DO NOT GO ON! Virgil internally begs.

“Well, see, Mrs. Snuggle Bottoms was named when I was but a tot. Just imagine me but way cuter and smaller,” continues the mouse. “And then Remus learned what a bottom was from the internet and that was how my entire life was ruined. Him stealing Mrs. Snuggle Bottoms is just one of the many, many torments I have been made to endure.”

“Hmm mm. Oh, wow, that’s crazy.”

“ISN’T IT?? So I told Jared—that guy is my ex-boyfriend and Remus’s ex-drug dealer but that’s another story—that it was over because Remus had stolen Mrs. Snuggle Bottoms,” Roman continues despite Virgil’s desperate, desperate prayers to a world which is no longer listening. “So now I’m single and ready to mingle but I thought, Human men have been nothing but disappointment and then I realized FAE ARE ALL GAY and I decided to find myself a hot cottagecore magical.”

“…and you chose Logan,” Virgil hazards a response, curiosity getting the better of him. “Logan.”

“I summoned him from a fairy ring and he was smoking hot so I wasn’t about to complain,” Roman says. “Then he turned me into a fucking mouse.”

“At this point you almost deserve it.”

“FILTHY FUCKING CLASS TRAITORS!” calls Deceit from some unknown amount of distance away. “I TRUSTED YOU!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP MR. I’M GOING TO CLIMB THE SOCIAL LADDER!”

Deceit pauses before yelling back, “IT’S ENDEARING AND QUIRKY WHEN I DO IT!” 

Virgil summons a makeshift barrier for the window, hoping that Deceit won’t notice the gentle sheen of magic. Then he hopes Remus won’t try and tackle his way back in.

…just in case he makes sure that the barrier looks like wood. Sort of. If wood was slightly see through and made of deep violet glitter. 

“You,” he sighs. “Are a fucking nuisance and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about you.”

“Untransform the kidnapping victim your fae boyfriend threw at you! Through the air. Like a footed or basketed ball.”

“I’m going to google ‘secret fae courting rituals’ and see what comes up,” Virgil decides, ignoring Roman. “And hopefully I don’t have to eat you or kidnap somebody else.”

“You really are just giving up all of your goddamn morals for hot fairy ass,” Roman looks both mad and like he wants to give Virgil a hearty thump to the back. “I can respect it, but I can’t accept it.”

Virgil tosses the chattering mouse into a muted, makeshift cage and thanks every god that exists for Roman’s humanity. If he had any practice in magic he’d definitely be able to disperse that cage.

Virgil settles onto the mess of cushions and mattresses that he calls a bed then starts searching.

Chapter Text

Virgil looks up: a hot fairy is courting me, transformations, kidnapping. 

…the results are…intriguing but irrelevant.

Virgil turns on safe search and looks up: Fae Courtship Transformation Guide.

Then he makes a new tab for the old results.

The new results read:

DO NOT FUCK THE FAE

REASONS WHY FUCKING THE FAE IS AN AWFUL IDEA

YOU WILL DIE OF FAIRY BULLSHIT

Fae Courtship, 101, by Random Guy Who Only Knows Pixies

THE WILD HUNT START

WHEN DOES THE WILD HUNT START: FOR TRAVELING IN LAWS by Fae Guy Who Writes In Fae Language

VIRGIL JUST ASK ME THINGS by Logan Who Is Outside of Your Window

Virgil scrolls farther down, interest thoroughly piqued. 

VIRGIL PLEASE I DO NOT WANT TO DAMAGE YOUR HARD WORK by Logan Who Wants to Talk

VIRGIL I KNOW YOU SEE THIS PLEASE INVITE ME IN I CANNOT TELEPORT WITHOUT PERMISSION by Logan Who’s Contractual And Emotional Obligations Trap Him

VIRGIL. VIRGIL PLEASE. VIRGIL WHY AREN’T YOU OPENING THE DOOR by Logan Who Heard Something Move

DEAR GRAVITY ITSELF WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING by Logan Who Just Saw A Badly Disguised Monster Attempt to Swallow A Garden Snake

“Logan, come in now, I invite you into my room,” Virgil rushes to speak permission aloud. 

Logan falls into his arms from the ceiling, nearly landing on the computer. Virgil is still lying down on a pile of pillows, his entire lower half sprawled across the cushions.

He throws Roman out of the room, bubble intact. The guy’ll just have to survive on his own for a bit.

“Hey,” he grins down at a Logan with horrified eyes. He thinks of saying something about fallen angels and opts to keep at least some dignity. “Hey, you ok?”

“…no…” Logan mutters. “No, no I can say with absolute certainty that I am not okay and may never again be anywhere approaching ‘ok.’”

“Aww, not even if you hear about the cool thing I found a while back,” Virgil casually but very skillfully drops this hint. Incredibly subtle. Master of secrecy. “Perhaps it could be of comfort to you.”

Logan grabs his face with impossibly cold, impossibly soft, impossible hands and stares into his eyes. “Give it. Please and thank you.”

He hands over a branch with yew berries. “Since uh…they’re poisonous, I figure I can’t eat them. But you maybe could. Or at least, you could make better use of them.”

“Oh,” Logan’s expression softens and melts into something that makes his heart start skittering around in his chest. “Oh, dear.”

“We—“

“FREEDOM!” screams Roman as he strikes open the door, brandishing a small metal needle. 

“Oh, right,” Logan heaves a heavy sigh. “My first mistake.”

“How’d you find Roman?” Virgil asks, slamming the door shut and locking it. 

“I didn’t need to find anything. That man came traipsing through my ring, then called out to—and I quote, ‘Any Cottagecore Hotties Looking to Mingle,’” Logan scrunches up his face. “The temperature was cool and I am not warm by any means. I do not understand what kind of mental gymnastics took place there.”

“That…tracks with everything I was told.”

“Then, after so rudely stomping all over my territory, he demanded that I indulge him,” Logan sighs. “He greeted me in the human manner: A wave of the forelimb. But unlike most humans he then proceeded to give out his name, reciting songs and poems in a clear attempt at bribery. I figured I would make use of him. That was a week ago and he has been mine ever since.”

“And now,” Virgil says. “Now, he’s mine.”

“Yes, yours. I am sorry for that. But he did have such enthralling prose, so I thought if I cursed him into a most unbecoming form,” Logan’s wings start glowing dimly, outshining any flickering candle or steady lightbulb. “He would be more amenable to…obedience. My mistake was assuming that this mouse has any self-preservation whatsoever.”

“Yeah, I don’t even know how this guy is living,” Virgil agrees. “He’s been looking for fae to court.”

“…that was human courting behavior?”

“It was Roman courting behavior.”

Both of them share a look.

Virgil decides, fuck the kidnapping, he’s going to enjoy time with his kinda-soon-to-be-boyfriend. 

“You want to look up animal facts?” he proposes. “And then look at cryptids?”

“Literally nothing has ever intrigued me more.”