#literally gonna kill myself there’s carpet beetles in my room AGAIN
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danrifics · 1 year ago
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andiandyandee · 4 years ago
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We Are Going to Be Friends Pt.11
I’m back!!  Sorry this took so long, the baby (She’s 3, but she’s my baby, okay?) has been super sick for like a month so her mother and I have been at out wit’s end trying to make her feel better. Anyway. Here’s the first Chapter Here’s the most recent chapter Here’s the whole series on ao3
Tag List:
@datfearlessfangirl @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking @holliberries
Here’s the Fic!
    “Logan, I don’t know if getting a tattoo from some rando is a great idea.” Remus was hanging upside down from his bed, watching Logan work on his biology homework. Roman was sitting in a bean bag chair, working on his history homework.
    “It’ll be fine, Rem. if it turns out bad I’ll just get it covered up when I’m 18.”
    “What if it gets infected? And then because you won’t go to a hospital ever it’s gonna spread to your hand and arm and heart and they’re gonna have to amputate and then how are you going to become a doctor with only one arm or you’ll boil alive from the fever and we won’t-”
    “Did you know dueling is legal in Paraguay as long as both parties are registered blood donors?” Logan remarked without looking up from his book. Remus looked baffled. Roman looked slightly annoyed.
    “Why do you always do that? It’s rude to interrupt someone, you know.”
    “Do what?” Logan glanced at Remus for some clarification, hoping he would understand Roman as his brother better than Logan did as his boyfriend. Remus shrugged.
    “You do it all the time. Rem will be talking about something and then you just like, cut him off with some random fact.” Logan snorted at Roman’s now protective tone.
    “It’s to pull him out of a panic spiral. When someone with OCD starts spiraling, like he just was, you can sometimes confuse them enough to keep them from freaking out. A distraction technique, essentially.” The twins both looked confused. They spoke at the same time,
    “Remus doesn’t have OCD.”
    “I don’t have OCD.” Logan gave them a confused smile.
    “I’m sorry, I don’t think I get the joke.”
    “It’s not a joke. My diagnosis is just anxiety, It’s not OCD.”
    “If you don’t have OCD I’ll eat my boot.” Logan gestured at Remus vaguely. “You literally display every single symptom, how has your therapist never tested you?”
    “Picani didn’t diagnose me, he just kept my diagnosis from my old doctor. What do you mean by all the symptoms?”
    “I mean- I could be wrong, but it seems obvious, right? You get stuck in cycles of being completely obsessed with a thought or potential event, you find something that makes you feel better, then you feel compelled to do it any time the thought arises.”
    “I think everyone does that,” Remus mumbled.
    “Where in your closet do your clothes go specifically?”
    “Be more specific,” Remus asked, uneasily.
    “100% cotton shirts, where do they go?”
    “Uh, towards the back. I can’t see them when I open my closet but I know they won’t get eaten by moths because moths don’t eat cotton because it doesn’t have Keratin but I have to keep anything that moths might eat toward the front so I can check on it when I open the closet doors and-”
    “And in what order do your books go on the shelf?”
    “There isn’t a specific order, but the ones I’ve read the most I keep on the middle two shelves so they’re at eye level, while books I’ll never read but still keep or books I’ve read but didn’t like are at the bottom because I probably won’t see them unless I bend down, which I don’t do, and books I want to read but haven’t yet are on the top shelves because I feel better knowing that if I decide to read them all I have to do is reach for them.” Logan nodded.
    “What do you do if you see what you believe is a carpet beetle? Walk me through your usual process.”
    “Uh, I’d probably try to catch it, google carpet beetles, I have a bookmark for them actually, make sure that’s what it is. If I’m unsure I’ll google black beetles and make sure it’s not something else, check to see if I can find any more, if I can’t I’ll put the one outside then go shower and then I’ll clean the room I found it in, wash my hands and then I’ll double-check to see if any more have come out, then shower again.”  Roman looked totally baffled.
    “I mean, those seem a little extreme, but I don’t know if that’s OCD.”
    “Remus, what’s your routine when you walk to your therapist's office?”
    “What day? On Wednesday appointments I leave the school, come home, change into my boots, dad drops me off, I wait outside the office until 3:29, I walk in, Picani says “Remus! Right in time!” and we do our session. I leave, turn right, walk the long way to Starbucks, order my drink-” Logan raised his eyebrows at him as if this was making his point. Which it was.”Oh. Huh.”
    “Have you mentioned this to your therapist?”
    “No, I guess I never realized.” Remus was looking a little put-off. “Does it... bother you?”
    “Don’t be an idiot.” Logan waved a hand vaguely at him. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to talk to you.” He smirked. “Now, had I realized what I was getting myself into when I started dating Roman, maybe I would have made some better choices.” Roman laughed, throwing his pillow at Logan’s face. This action set off what was probably the most aggressive pillow fight known to date, and it only ended when Roman swung his arm around to catch a pillow hurling at Logan, only to miss and essentially punch him in the eye.
    “Fuck! Ow, what the fuck,” Logan held his eye, looking at Roman in complete exasperation. “Roman I think you just broke my face.” Roman was stone-still, horrified, and Remus looked just as panicked, hands up as if to placate to the other teens if they turned to violence. “Woah, okay, why did it get so serious all of the sudden?”
    “Logan I am so sor-”
    “Wait, what? It was an accident, Ro. No big deal. How bad does it look?” When Logan moved his hand, Roman actually flinched back. “Damn, that bad? This is what I get for not wearing my glasses…” He looked in the mirror and snorted. “Oh, that’s gonna be gnarly later. L will kill you if I still have a black eye for prom, you know.” Logan glanced back at the twins who were still pale and nervous.
    “Logan, I am so sorry, it was an accident, I promise I would never- I couldn’t…”
    “Ro?” Logan had a soft smile on his face. “You’re an idiot.” Roman immediately snapped out of his panic to dramatically gasp.
    “How dare you, peasant!” Logan snorted, coming back over and sitting down.
     “I spend time in mosh pits. I think at this point every person I like had given me a black eye. Except for Remus, weirdly enough.”
    The evening calmed down significantly once Remus brought Logan and ice-pack. They mostly just went back to homework, Remus occasionally anxiously bringing up Logan’s tattoo, which he was supposed to get the next day. It was mostly Logan with his back to Roman’s chest, only half awake, listening to Remus talk excitedly about sea urchins, which was apparently his new favorite sea creature.    Getting the tattoo was fine, if uneventful. The ‘artist’ seemed a little weird, and possibly drunk, but Logan had never gotten a tattoo, so he assumed this wasn’t too far off from how they usually went. When he made it to the Sander’s house, a trash bag held on with electrical tape around his wrist, he was still grinning like a madman. Remus laughed at him and took a photo on his stupid polaroid camera that was completely ridiculous because they had cellphones with cameras, and when Logan took the bag off, Remus took a picture of that too, even though it was red and a little puffy and the lines didn’t look very good. Logan loved it, and both Remus and Roman couldn’t help but like something that made him so happy.  
    They both liked it a lot less a week later, when Logan showed up to their house pale and a little grey looking, arm tucked up towards his chest.
    “I thought It was healing alright so I left it uncovered, the artist said it was normal for it to be a little red for a while so I didn’t question it. We went to a show, and to a party and it hurts and I don’t know why. ” Logan’s words were a little slurred, he was obviously a little out of it, so they guided him inside and sat him on the couch.
    “Can we see, Lo?”
    “It’s really gross, way worse than it was last night... I don’t think-” Remus pulled Logan’s arm away from his chest and Roman almost gagged. It was significantly worse than it had looked the last time they’d seen it only two nights ago, now yellow and swollen and bleeding again. “I don’t know why it got so infected... I was taking care of it..” From how close they were together, they could tell that Logan had a fever, and he was definitely sweating.
    “Something must have gotten into it while you were out. You need antibiotics.”
    “No doctors,” Logan grumbled, pressing his face into Roman’s shoulder. “Please.”  They agreed, because it was hard to argue with Logan in general, but especially about doctors, but both brothers looked uneasy as they helped Logan clean the tattoo and re-wrap it.
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