#that'll come when it comes. it's percolating right now

[eaglefairy]

I'm bouncing off the FUCKING walls thinking about Fiora

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 7

Chapter: 7/8

Content warnings: Blood, respiratory distress, mentions of alcohol and use (no depictions)

Add'l Notes: Patton is a sweet, gentle bear, Janus is a scheming, diabolical manlet, I'll die on this hill, etc etc.

This was getting unbearable. Janus buried his face in his handkerchief and coughed and coughed. His blood was warm against his tongue and lips, streaking the blooms dark red. His chest burned constantly now, his throat always irritated and raw.

To top it all off, Patton had disappeared without a word of warning, leaving Janus with no answers. If anything, he had more questions than ever before. The vase of poppies on Patton's dresser could not have been a coincidence, but there was just no way this was Patton's fault.

So Janus was saddled with a mystery, with flowers in his lungs, and with Remus' awkward attempts at support.

"I'm just saying, you can't rule it out until you try it," Remus said, pausing in his pacing to give Janus a doe-eyed pout.

"For the last time, Remus, I'm not going to huff weed killer." Janus threw his head back against the couch cushions and tried his best to sigh. The effect was somewhat muted by the sputtering coughs that followed.

"I can tell you want to scream," Remus said.

He was right, though Janus would never admit it. "Yes, I think that--" Breathe, breathe, breathe-- "that'll fix me." What Janus really wanted, disgusted as he was to admit it to himself, was Patton. Not that Patton would be able to do anything that Remus couldn't do, but Janus missed him. Quite terribly, if he was being honest with himself. Maybe he would feel better if he cried, not that he'd ever allow himself to do that. He'd have to be out of his mind on hypoxia and poppy seeds.

"I just wish there was something I could do," Remus said, dropping hands to his sides. "Other than just sit here and watch."

Janus hadn't told him about the flowers in Patton's room. He kept things close to his chest by nature, determined to solve his problems on his own. He didn't ask for help. Even if he would have dearly liked another perspective on this mystery, he couldn't put that responsibility on Remus. It would only make him feel worse if he failed.

"You can make me ginger tea," Janus said, forcing a smile. It wasn't right seeing Remus fret like this. "With honey."

A teacup appeared on the coffee table alongside a bottle of whiskey. So much for occupying Remus with busywork. "What I should do," Remus said, brandishing his morningstar, "is go maul Roman until he agrees to fix you."

"As entertaining as that would be, I'm not so sure that's the most efficient course of action, per se." Janus shifted, trying to work out how to leave Remus without making him feel abandoned. He just wanted to go check on Patton, but didn't feel at all up to the task of refereeing whatever confrontation would result in Patton and Remus sharing space. He could always just get up and leave with no explanation…. But Remus didn't deserve that.

In the end, he decided to wait until Remus got bored. There was no guarantee he was even going to find Patton. He had been AWOL for the past two days and Janus had had a near run-in with Virgil last night when he'd gone to look for Patton, an experience he was not keen to repeat.

And if Janus expedited the process of ditching Remus by pretending to fall asleep, well, he'd never tell.

Patton had a distinctly hungover look about him, with his glasses missing and his hair sticking up in the back. He blinked at Janus, bleary-eyed, and Janus' heart started to jackhammer in his chest. How utterly cute, how endearing. He wanted to smooth Patton's hair down and kiss him on the forehead, though he'd have to stand on his tiptoes to reach. Damn the subconscious for making him tiny.

"Where have you been?" Janus asked, planting himself in the middle of the hallway. Patton's door disappeared into white ether, a fact which Janus filed away to think about later.

"Sleeping," Patton said, holding up a bottle of NyQuil.

Well, that explained why he didn't smell like alcohol despite the obvious hangover. "And here I thought you were avoiding me," Janus teased. Despite the awful sting all up and down his chest, Patton's mere presence seemed to lighten the burden and ease his fears. He could bear this as long as he had Patton by his side.

"No," Patton mumbled, dragging hands down his face. "Coffee. Then talk."

He swayed a little, steadying himself on the wall. Janus held out his hand. "Come here, let me help."

Patton nodded and let Janus lead him to the kitchen. Not trusting Patton with high chairs at the kitchen island, Janus instead led him to the table and turned a chair out for him so they could face each other. Patton coughed behind closed lips and a spike of fear paralyzed Janus' heart. He was already fighting for breath and this new bolt of adrenaline made him dizzy. He took deep breaths (as well as he could, with his lungs all entangled and bleeding) and forced himself to make coffee step-by-step. It was the one thing he regularly did by hand instead of just imagining it to completion, a ritual and a reward.

"I hope you didn't catch what I have," Janus said. Maintaining the lie.

"Doubt it," Patton mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Janus narrowed his eyes. What did that mean? Was Patton coughing up poppies, too? Suddenly, the drip-drip-drip of coffee into the pot, the rich, reassuring smell of the grounds, seemed unimportant. Janus imagined the coffee done percolating, imagined two mugs on the table. He pushed one toward Patton. "Cheers."

"What time is it?" Patton asked before downing half the contents of the mug in one long swallow.

"Around noon, I think." Feeling his diaphragm seize, Janus turned away, shaking his handkerchief out of his sleeve, and gave in to the fit. It was getting harder and harder to swallow the pain. Inhaling was not just uncomfortable now; it hurt like clenched fists around his lungs. But Janus was a practiced liar and tucked the pain away behind a velvet curtain. "I haven't seen you in two days."

"Sorry," Patton said, looking fractionally more alert now. "I was trying to sleep off this… Cold, I guess."

"Mm," said Janus, taking a sip of coffee to keep from having to answer properly. He couldn't decide how he wanted to pursue this, if he wanted to pursue this. What did it matter if Patton was coughing up poppies or daisies or African violets? It brought Janus no closer to solving the puzzle.

"You sound really bad," Patton said. He finished his coffee and blinked hard. "Oh! I'm sorry, but I don't think it's Roman."

"You're sure?" Janus asked, blood running cold.

But a lot of things seemed to be hitting Patton all at once with the introduction of caffeine to his system; he whipped his head up to look at Janus with something akin to panic. "I wanted to thank you, and-- Oh." He looked at their coffee mugs with obvious dismay. "I did it again."

"Did what?"

"I… I let you take care of me," Patton said in a small voice.

"Oh, Patton," Janus sighed, unable to help himself. The breath that ghosted across his lips tasted like blood and black coffee. He wondered if Patton would mind terribly if Janus kissed him anyway. "I really haven't been." That was true. Janus had been deliberately holding himself back from giving himself over to Patton. How little support did he get from the others, that Janus' minor attempts at friendship felt so significant?

"You have!" Patton insisted. "Right from the start. You've been right by my side through all of this, reminding me to take care of myself, spending time with me. You even helped me with that dog puzzle."

"I don't understand," Janus said. These were normal friendship behaviors. Had he been too obvious? Did Patton suspect? "Wouldn't the others have done the same?"

"They would," Patton said. "If I had asked."

"Oh," said Janus, blinking away a wave of dizziness. Even he couldn't begrudge the others their lack of understanding. It wasn't their fault they couldn't give Patton what he hadn't asked for. But what did it say about him that he had?

"You've been a really good friend to me, Janus. Even though I don't deserve it."

"Don't talk about my friend like that," Janus said, nudging Patton in the ribs. It was a soft, familiar gesture, something he'd done to Remus a hundred times before. It was the first time Janus had touched Patton without announcing it, getting permission.

Patton smiled at him, and then they both ruined the moment by dissolving into twin coughing fits.

Janus' lasted longer; he felt Patton's eyes on him as he repeatedly tried and failed to get himself under control-- Was that an entire flower in his throat? What did that mean? He banished it with difficulty, trying to master the animal impulses screaming it hurts it hurts it hurts as if to drown out his rational thought. He should leave, but he didn't want to. So he straightened up and washed away the taste of blood in his mouth with another swallow of coffee.

"Ohhh," Patton whispered. "You really don't sound good."

"I'm fine," Janus said, reflexively bringing out an old standard. It was the one lie everybody told.

"You didn't believe me when I said I was fine," Patton said. "Why should I believe you?"

"There's not really anything to be done about it," Janus said, hating the shallow breaths he had to take between every few words. If he stayed, he would have to pretend he wasn't in agony. But hadn't he been doing that this whole time? It was agony, being so certain that Patton could never want Janus the way Janus wanted Patton, yet unable to crush that sliver of hope that never died out.

Patton brandished the NyQuil bottle and Janus forced himself to laugh. Patton smiled at him, so soft and gentle and honey-sweet. "Why don't you sit with me?" Janus blinked and they were on the couch with two fresh cups of coffee. Patton had left no space between their bodies. "Is this okay?"

It wasn't, really. Janus burned with the contact, burned all over until he could feel it in his face and had to hide behind a cooler mask, though he was sure this one was still pale and pinched with pain. It wasn't fair at all, this horrible parody of romance. It shouldn't have been a problem. He should have been satisfied with friendship, like he was with Remus. It was nothing to sit in Remus' lap or play with his hair because they were both happy with the arrangement. But this? This made Janus want to put a fist through the wall. So of course, he said "Yes" and took his hat off in case he worked up the courage to rest his head on Patton's shoulder.

"Are we still gonna be friends the next time Thomas needs us for something?" Patton asked.

"So it's just a given that we're going to disagree?"

"Janus."

"Okay, okay." Janus sighed as deeply as his strangled lungs would allow. "I promise."

Patton beamed and didn't even question him. He just took it at face value now, that Janus wasn't lying about this. "Oh, good."

"So what are we doing?" Janus asked. "Going to drink coffee and gossip like a couple of old ladies?"

"Whatever you want, really," Patton said.

"Oh, good," Janus said drily. "I want to take shots and play strip poker." Patton blinked at him. "Kidding."

"Oh!" said Patton, shaking his head. "Sorry. Guess the NyQuil hasn't worn off yet."

"How about we watch something?" Janus asked. It was probably a little too early in the friendship to force Patton sit down and watch Perry Mason with him, but then again… He was a practiced hand at being selfish. The TV flashed to life and Janus sat his mug down on the coffee table before leaning back to watch.

"Ha," said Patton, apparently recognizing the show. "Should have guessed."

"Oh, enlighten me," Janus said, feigning innocence. "What's so funny?"

"I should have guessed you'd be into courtroom dramas," Patton said.

Janus would have ribbed him further, had his lungs not decided to turn themselves inside out. He barely got his handkerchief in front of his mouth in time before blood started spilling over his lips. God, this was miserable. His resolve was cracking, he was starting to doubt he could make it much longer without vocalizing the pain. "Maybe I will take that NyQuil," he said, the words feeling like coarse grit sandpaper as they dragged themselves up his throat. He took it from Patton before Patton could take the cap off-- He still had his pride even if he wouldn't have his voice for much longer. The thought loomed so terrifying in his mind that denial smacked it down to nothing before it could get out of control. Janus poured out half a dose of NyQuil. Everything would be fine. He would be okay. The subconscious would set him straight before the flowers could completely take over his respiratory system.

Beside him, Patton coughed a little too, and Janus sincerely hoped that he wasn't suffering the same ailment. Patton didn't deserve that.

The NyQuil kicked in gently, drawing Janus so subtly toward sleep he only noticed he was drifting off when his head touched Patton's shoulder.

[ginnyq]

Thoughts on The Book of Boba Fett, Episode 5 and Predictions for Episodes 6 and 7!

Been percolating on this one all week, and I have Thoughts, as well as Predictions/Hopes/Dreams to be crushed, which I want to be on the internet so that if/when I am right, I can point and say, "AHA! I GUESSED THAT ONE!"

Like everyone, I'm more than a bit miffed that we got a great Mandalorian episode at the expense of Boba Fett in, you know, The Book of Boba Fett. But I have Ideas about that! (Naive, optimistic Ideas, but Ideas nonetheless.)

Let's start with Ideas and PREDICTIONS, since that's most interesting, anyway. I saw one person online react to Temuera Morrison not being in this episode as, "Maybe he was needed for some heavy fimling in the finale," and I have jumped on that bandwagon and taken control. Because Temuera Morrison has also said that the show is "full of surprises" and "Wow, wait until episode seven!" I dunno, I'm wondering if the next to episodes, like the two-part season finales of both the Mandalorian seasons, will be so damned good it makes us forget the general meh-ness of the season up until now.

SO. What could be this awesome?

Clones and/or Jango: What could possibly be so Temuera Morrison-heavy that he couldn't be in an entire episode of his own damned show? Lots of action, obvs, but I'm thinking bigger. CLONES. JANGO. CLONES AND JANGO FLASHBACKS. I'd forgive a Din detour (Dintour?) for that. We've heard rumors of lots of Mandos, and what if they're clones or something that come to help Boba out in the clutch? Temuera Morrison has also hinted about wanting to be Rex or Cody or other clones, and he's a pretty cheeky dude, so I could see that being a hint.

Mand'alor!Boba: I've seen a couple of suggestions that the Armorer talking about a new Mand'alor riding a the Mythosaur, etc. might be referring to BOBA (who has had the Mythosaur on his armor since the beginning), who has already hinted about wanting to ride his rancor and having already ridden "beasts ten times this size" ... Din doesn't want the Darksaber and also is having issues with it. Maybe? Possibly?? It happened in Legends, and it could free Din up for his Redemption Side Quest.

Din Visiting Grogu: I actually think this was a way to get fans pumped about seeing him reunite with Grogu as well as a reason to have him disappear for a whole-ass episode, because they're not going to show them meeting up again HERE. That'll wait for Mando S3 for sure. Which would explain why we got so much Din backstory frontloaded. (I think it would've been more interesting to have him just appear but with little explanation, but my partner mentioned that then people would be distracted by Din's appearance and not talking about Boba in his own season finale, so I can see why this choice might have been better.)

Boba and Din Reuniting Scene: It seemed obvious to me that they had Fennec show up and not Boba to talk to Din at the end because that scene is going to be bigger than a couple of minutes at the end. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Din comes in toward the very end of episode seven to help out, in the way that Boba helped them out of a tight spot once he got his armor in The Tragedy.

Boba and Din Mando Convo: Lots of people have been upset that Boba couldn't appear in his own show to do some explaining in place of the Armorer, but I think that can still happen. In fact, I'd love if we finally get to see what happened right after The Rescue, but in flashback form and from Boba's POV, and maybe Boba and Din talk about what it means to be Mandalorian. And then we can hear about Boba's (likely complex) feelings about that and maybe get some Jango talk. Because if Boba's going to talk about Jango to anyone, it'll be to the single dad bounty hunter wearing silver armor who just wanted to save his kid. Hell, maybe we'll get both a flashback to them talking on the ship AND a present-day, post-covert-banishment talk!

THE TUSKENS: Okay, so, I am still holding out hope that not all of Boba's tribe was slaughtered, and that he will be reunited with them. BUT ALSO that they come in clutch and help fight the Pykes, because that would be the absolute best of all. (And Din's familiar with the Tuskens, what if he's like, "Oh yeah, I can talk to the [x] tribe," and Boba's like, "That tribe was wiped out 😖😩😠😭" and Din says, "Oh no, when?" Boba says, "[#] years ago," and Din's all, "Uh, I just talked to them last week?" and then Boba can find his family and be happy!! 🥰 Please, Favreau and Rodriguez, let me have this one at least?? (And if not for me, for all the fans of color who were devastated by their off-screen, haphazard, barely there send-off? Please. I beg you 🙏)

That's all for the predictions. Fingers crossed! 🤞

Now, Episode 5? Most of the things I have to say about the episode have been said before, tbh. Things that stood out to me:

I do so love Din Djarin. Should I have been as excited to see his silhouette behind those grocery-store-freezer-blinds as I was? Probably not. But I gasped anyway.

I adore the parallels to his introduction in episode 1 of The Mandalorian. Coming in like a bamf? Check. Speaking very little? Check. Putting up with no bullshit? Check. "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold"?? Check! Cutting a man in half??? CHECK.

The parallels bring into stark relief how different he is, too. Here, he talks more, he's a bit sloppy, he's using a weapon he's not as familiar with, he gets injured (once by himself, and oh, boy, was I glad to see someone injure temselves with a lightsaber after little to no training!) (and OOF, he was in PAIN), he's more emotional (that almost primal shout when he cuts dude in half), he seems more brutal than necessary (did the dude need to be sliced in half? he was flat on his back), and he cares about other people (Mando really said, "Workers of the proletariat, unite!"). Also, man is tired af. And misses his bb.

Finding the covert/Armorer/Paz was a surprise, though this definitely felt like a speedrun through all the things I kind of thought we'd get across season 3. Sad that it's just the two characters with lines that seem to have survived. Hopefully there's others and they just haven't found the covert yet.

RIP beskar spear (Um, Ms. Armorer? If beskar is only for armor, how come the Darksaber is made of beskar?? Checkmate.)

Din wanting something for Grogu, saying Grogu's name, admitting that no attachments is not The Way, wanting to make sure he's safe ... ahhh! 😭🥰

Him fighting with the Darksaber, a la Sabine in Rebels, was hella fun. I might have rewound to watch him fall off that platform a dozen times, and it is still funny.

Hooray for keeping the Darksaber, bullshit for the helmet thing, though it was going to happen eventually. I was surprised that they didn't demand all his beskar back. He quite likely would have surrendered it. But he does need his literal Plot Armor, and maybe she figured if he wouldn't give it up, plus Paz can't beat him, so whatever.

The entire sequence with Din Djarin going through Space TSA is the funniest scene in all of Star Wars television (possibly the movies, too). A+ comedy, and he was the perfect amoung of grumpy.

The thing with the ship was silly and fun (Peli is amazing), though I think it went on too long. It's almost as if they could have shortened that and, I don't know, had a cameo from the titular character? Maybe?

Thank you to Pedro Pascal for making "Wizard" sound as cool as "Fucking. Awesome." I still said, "No! No. Not cool," when he said it thought, because it felt so out of character.

He calls Fennec "Fennec" but still calls Boba "Boba Fett," huh? So formal! You'd think they didn't go save his kid together. But awww, he's doing it for free because he honors debts just like Boba Fett. The drug war has to wait for him to visit his bb though!

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 7

Chapter: 7/8

Additional Notes: IDK if anyone is keeping sole track of this fic on Tumblr but if you are, apologies for the delay in posting 😅 Also do yourself a favor and get an AO3 account

Chapter Content Warnings: Blood, respiratory distress, very brief mentions of alcohol (alcohol use not depicted)

This was getting unbearable. Janus buried his face in his handkerchief and coughed and coughed. His blood was warm against his tongue and lips, streaking the blooms dark red. His chest burned constantly now, his throat always irritated and raw.

To top it all off, Patton had disappeared without a word of warning, leaving Janus with no answers. If anything, he had more questions than ever before. The vase of poppies on Patton's dresser could not have been a coincidence, but there was just no way this was Patton's fault.

So Janus was saddled with a mystery, with flowers in his lungs, and with Remus' awkward attempts at support.

"I'm just saying, you can't rule it out until you try it," Remus said, pausing in his pacing to give Janus a doe-eyed pout.

"For the last time, Remus, I'm not going to huff weed killer." Janus threw his head back against the couch cushions and tried his best to sigh. The effect was somewhat muted by the sputtering coughs that followed.

"I can tell you want to scream," Remus said.

He was right, though Janus would never admit it. "Yes, I think that--" Breathe, breathe, breathe-- "that'll fix me." What Janus really wanted, disgusted as he was to admit it to himself, was Patton. Not that Patton would be able to do anything that Remus couldn't do, but Janus missed him. Quite terribly, if he was being honest with himself. Maybe he would feel better if he cried, not that he'd ever allow himself to do that. He'd have to be out of his mind on hypoxia and poppy seeds.

"I just wish there was something I could do," Remus said, dropping hands to his sides. "Other than just sit here and watch."

Janus hadn't told him about the flowers in Patton's room. He kept things close to his chest by nature, determined to solve his problems on his own. He didn't ask for help. Even if he would have dearly liked another perspective on this mystery, he couldn't put that responsibility on Remus. It would only make him feel worse if he failed.

"You can make me ginger tea," Janus said, forcing a smile. It wasn't right seeing Remus fret like this. "With honey."

A teacup appeared on the coffee table alongside a bottle of whiskey. So much for occupying Remus with busywork. "What I should do," Remus said, brandishing his morningstar, "is go maul Roman until he agrees to fix you."

"As entertaining as that would be, I'm not so sure that's the most efficient course of action, per se." Janus shifted, trying to work out how to leave Remus without making him feel abandoned. He just wanted to go check on Patton, but didn't feel at all up to the task of refereeing whatever confrontation would result in Patton and Remus sharing space. He could always just get up and leave with no explanation…. But Remus didn't deserve that.

In the end, he decided to wait until Remus got bored. There was no guarantee he was even going to find Patton. He had been AWOL for the past two days and Janus had had a near run-in with Virgil last night when he'd gone to look for Patton, an experience he was not keen to repeat.

And if Janus expedited the process of ditching Remus by pretending to fall asleep, well, he'd never tell.

Patton had a distinctly hungover look about him, with his glasses missing and his hair sticking up in the back. He blinked at Janus, bleary-eyed, and Janus' heart started to jackhammer in his chest. How utterly cute, how endearing. He wanted to smooth Patton's hair down and kiss him on the forehead, though he'd have to stand on his tiptoes to reach. Damn the subconscious for making him tiny.

"Where have you been?" Janus asked, planting himself in the middle of the hallway. Patton's door disappeared into white ether, a fact which Janus filed away to think about later.

"Sleeping," Patton said, holding up a bottle of NyQuil.

Well, that explained why he didn't smell like alcohol despite the obvious hangover. "And here I thought you were avoiding me," Janus teased. Despite the awful sting all up and down his chest, Patton's mere presence seemed to lighten the burden and ease his fears. He could bear this as long as he had Patton by his side.

"No," Patton mumbled, dragging hands down his face. "Coffee. Then talk."

He swayed a little, steadying himself on the wall. Janus held out his hand. "Come here, let me help."

Patton nodded and let Janus lead him to the kitchen. Not trusting Patton with the high chairs at the kitchen island, Janus instead led him to the table and turned a chair out for him so they could face each other. Patton coughed behind closed lips and a spike of fear paralyzed Janus' heart. He was already fighting for breath and this new bolt of adrenaline made him dizzy. He took deep breaths (as well as he could, with his lungs all entangled and bleeding) and forced himself to make coffee step-by-step. It was the one thing he regularly did by hand instead of just imagining it to completion, a ritual and a reward.

"I hope you didn't catch what I have," Janus said. Maintaining the lie.

"Doubt it," Patton mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Janus narrowed his eyes. What did that mean? Was Patton coughing up poppies, too? Suddenly, the drip-drip-drip of coffee into the pot, the rich, reassuring smell of the grounds, seemed unimportant. Janus imagined the coffee done percolating, imagined two mugs on the table. He pushed one toward Patton. "Cheers."

"What time is it?" Patton asked before downing half the contents of the mug in one long swallow.

"Around noon, I think." Feeling his diaphragm seize, Janus turned away, shaking his handkerchief out of his sleeve, and gave in to the fit. It was getting harder and harder to swallow the pain. Inhaling was not just uncomfortable now; it hurt like clenched fists around his lungs. But Janus was a practiced liar and tucked the pain away behind a velvet curtain. "I haven't seen you in two days."

"Sorry," Patton said, looking fractionally more alert now. "I was trying to sleep off this… Cold, I guess."

"Mm," said Janus, taking a sip of coffee to keep from having to answer properly. He couldn't decide how he wanted to pursue this, if he wanted to pursue this. What did it matter if Patton was coughing up poppies or daisies or African violets? It brought Janus no closer to solving the puzzle.

"You sound really bad," Patton said. He finished his coffee and blinked hard. "Oh! I'm sorry, but I don't think it's Roman."

"You're sure?" Janus asked, blood running cold.

But a lot of things seemed to be hitting Patton all at once with the introduction of caffeine to his system; he whipped his head up to look at Janus with something akin to panic. "I wanted to thank you, and-- Oh." He looked at their coffee mugs with obvious dismay. "I did it again."

"Did what?"

"I… I let you take care of me," Patton said in a small voice.

"Oh, Patton," Janus sighed, unable to help himself. The breath that ghosted across his lips tasted like blood and black coffee. He wondered if Patton would mind terribly if Janus kissed him anyway. "I really haven't been." That was true. Janus had been deliberately holding himself back from giving himself over to Patton. How little support did he get from the others, that Janus' minor attempts at friendship felt so significant?

"You have!" Patton insisted. "Right from the start. You've been right by my side through all of this, reminding me to take care of myself, spending time with me. You even helped me with that dog puzzle."

"I don't understand," Janus said. These were normal friendship behaviors. Had he been too obvious? Did Patton suspect? "Wouldn't the others have done the same?"

"They would," Patton said. "If I had asked."

"Oh," said Janus, blinking away a wave of dizziness. Even he couldn't begrudge the others their lack of understanding. It wasn't their fault they couldn't give Patton what he hadn't asked for. But what did it say about him that he had?

"You've been a really good friend to me, Janus. Even though I don't deserve it."

"Don't talk about my friend like that," Janus said, nudging Patton in the ribs. It was a soft, familiar gesture, something he'd done to Remus a hundred times before. It was the first time Janus had touched Patton without announcing it, getting permission.

Patton smiled at him, and then they both ruined the moment by dissolving into twin coughing fits.

Janus' lasted longer; he felt Patton's eyes on him as he repeatedly tried and failed to get himself under control-- Was that an entire flower in his throat? What did that mean? He banished it with difficulty, trying to master the animal impulses screaming it hurts it hurts it hurts as if to drown out his rational thought. He should leave, but he didn't want to. So he straightened up and washed away the taste of blood in his mouth with another swallow of coffee.

"Ohhh," Patton whispered. "You really don't sound good."

"I'm fine," Janus said, reflexively bringing out an old standard. It was the one lie everybody told.

"You didn't believe me when I said I was fine," Patton said. "Why should I believe you?"

"There's not really anything to be done about it," Janus said, hating the shallow breaths he had to take between every few words. If he stayed, he would have to pretend he wasn't in agony. But hadn't he been doing that this whole time? It was agony, being so certain that Patton could never want Janus the way Janus wanted Patton, yet unable to crush that sliver of hope that never died out.

Patton brandished the NyQuil bottle and Janus forced himself to laugh. Patton smiled at him, so soft and gentle and honey-sweet. "Why don't you sit with me?" Janus blinked and they were on the couch with two fresh cups of coffee. Patton had left no space between their bodies. "Is this okay?"

It wasn't, really. Janus burned with the contact, burned all over until he could feel it in his face and had to hide behind a cooler mask, though he was sure this one was still pale and pinched with pain. It wasn't fair at all, this horrible parody of romance. It shouldn't have been a problem. He should have been satisfied with friendship, like he was with Remus. It was nothing to sit in Remus' lap or play with his hair because they were both happy with the arrangement. But this? This made Janus want to put a fist through the wall. So of course, he said "Yes" and took his hat off in case he worked up the courage to rest his head on Patton's shoulder.

"Are we still gonna be friends the next time Thomas needs us for something?" Patton asked.

"So it's just a given that we're going to disagree?"

"Janus."

"Okay, okay." Janus sighed as deeply as his strangled lungs would allow. "I promise."

Patton beamed and didn't even question him. He just took it at face value now, that Janus wasn't lying about this. "Oh, good."

"So what are we doing?" Janus asked. "Going to drink coffee and gossip like a couple of old ladies?"

"Whatever you want, really," Patton said.

"Oh, good," Janus said drily. "I want to take shots and play strip poker." Patton blinked at him. "Kidding."

"Oh!" said Patton, shaking his head. "Sorry. Guess the NyQuil hasn't worn off yet."

"How about we watch something?" Janus asked. It was probably a little too early in the friendship to force Patton sit down and watch Perry Mason with him, but then again… He was a practiced hand at being selfish. The TV flashed to life and Janus sat his mug down on the coffee table before leaning back to watch.

"Ha," said Patton, apparently recognizing the show. "Should have guessed."

"Oh, enlighten me," Janus said, feigning innocence. "What's so funny?"

"I should have guessed you'd be into courtroom dramas," Patton said.

Janus would have ribbed him further, had his lungs not decided to turn themselves inside out. He barely got his handkerchief in front of his mouth in time before blood started spilling over his lips. God, this was miserable. His resolve was cracking; he was starting to doubt he could make it much longer without vocalizing the pain. "Maybe I will take that NyQuil," he said, the words feeling like coarse grit sandpaper as they dragged themselves up his throat. He took it from Patton before Patton could take the cap off-- He still had his pride even if he wouldn't have his voice for much longer. The thought loomed so terrifying in his mind that denial smacked it down to nothing before it could get out of control. Janus poured out half a dose of NyQuil. Everything would be fine. He would be okay. The subconscious would set him straight before the flowers could completely take over his respiratory system.

Beside him, Patton coughed a little too, and Janus sincerely hoped that he wasn't suffering the same ailment. Patton didn't deserve that.

The NyQuil kicked in gently, drawing Janus so subtly toward sleep he only noticed he was drifting off when his head touched Patton's shoulder.