Sanders Sides One Shots & Shorts

The Devil Wears Prada (An AU) - Part Two

A lot of people said they'd like to read the part two so here we are!

TW: Remus, sexual innuendoes (again, Remus), cursing/swearing, insults and the like, some— dare I say it— romance for Logan and Virgil at beginning mostly.
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Date Written: I finished it up today cause I didn't like the ending so June 19, 2020
Word Count: 6973
POV: Omnipotent Narrator, 1st Person

The morning is young in the sky, the sunlight just beginning to peek through the curtains on the window of Logan and Virgil's bedroom. The room is small, with an air shaft close to the ceiling. The walls are painted a dull beige colour, the same colour it was when they moved in. They're sleeping on a futon, which lies on the floor. Two broke guys just out of college, they don't exactly have a lot of spare money lying around for them to be spending on things like paint and better mattresses. But they don't mind at all. They actually quite enjoy their simple, quiet little lifestyle.

The dull light hits Virgil's face, and he stirs a bit in his sleep. He climbs into that place halfway between sleep and wake, where he can acknowledge where he is, but the wisps of dreams still cling to him. He notes the feeling of Logan's warmth beside him, and he rolls over groggily, slipping an unaware arm around Logan, and pulling him closer absentmindedly, and burying his face in the other's short, well kept hair.

Logan shifts, hand reaching out for Virgil's when he wakes to his boyfriend pressing sleepy kisses to the back of his neck. Logan hums, not fully awake yet, as he rolls over to face Virgil. Virgil isn't fazed by the loss of the skin of the nape of his boyfriend's neck, and is quick to press his lips against Logan's instead. Logan frowns, eyes still closed, and he swats at Virgil blindly. "No... haven't brushed teeth..." But the protest dies on his lips as Virgil kisses him again, deeper this time. He gives in, ignoring the distinct taste of morning on Virgil's tongue as he shuffles closer, hands wandering and searching for somewhere to hold.

The kisses are dreamy, and neither can really tell if they're awake or not. All that they know is that the kisses are prolongating, and becoming more urgent--

When Logan's cell phone rings. It's shrill, and annoyingly upbeat. Virgil falls away and onto his back, disappointed. Logan twists around, and feels around for his phone, which is charging on the nightstand. He wraps his fingers around it, and squints his eyes at the caller ID, which is blurry without his glasses.

Remy Louis

Remy had recommended that Logan add him and his coworkers to his contacts, and keep his eyes on his phone vigilantly. He said last night that they pretty much strictly communicate using cell phones, and texted him a long list of numbers to program into his phone. Logan sighs, answering it, and pressing it to his ear as he falls back onto the pillows.

"Hello?" He says, voice gravelly with sleep.

Unfortunately, we can't hear the words that Remy's saying back to him. Neither can Virgil. Perhaps, every now and again, Remy's sassy tone slips through, audible past the receiver. Of course, as omniscient viewers of this story, I could, of course, transport us over to Remy, who's running across a busy crosswalk downtown at the moment with an armful of bags, and share with you exactly what it is that he is saying. However, I don't think that that's necessary here, Logan's reaction will tell you all that you need to know.

Logan frowns. "What, now?" He asks, peering over at the electric alarm clock that sits beside his bed. He fumbles for his glasses, and puts them on to better see the numbers. It's 6:15 A.M.

Virgil watches as Logan's eyes widen, and he blinks himself awake forcefully. He looks at Virgil in alarm, asking hushedly: "Do you have a pen?"

"What..? No... why would I?" Virgil asks, trying to get his brain to catch up.