Sanders Sides Oneshots

Your Idea, Your Problem {Intrulogical}

Third Person

"How much further?"

To call Remus annoying, would not only be the most short-sighted and predictable insult you could come up with, it would also be one of the most inaccurate ways to refer to him. The term 'annoying' barely scratched the surface of just how much of a nuisance he could be. In order to completely encompass Remus, you would need years to find the right words. No one else was quite as irritating. No one else was so insanely sane. No one else could have caught the eye of Logan Smith.

For all his intelligence, Logan couldn't really decipher why he had taken such a liking to Remus, let alone enter a romantic relationship with the man. It just sort of...happened.

"Stop asking that," Their mutual attraction didn't exempt Remus from facing Logan's wrath when the situation called for it.

"But he's getting heavy," Remus's whining definitely didn't help his case in this particular instance.

There were only so many times that Logan felt up for helping Remus get rid of his latest 'experiment.' The guy is an undiagnosed psychopath, having little to no sanity left to speak of. If it wasn't for the nerd, he would have gotten caught a long time ago, seeing as his primary hobby wasn't exactly legal.

"This was your idea, so you get to carry him," If Remus had a problem with carrying a one hundred and eighty something pound corpse, then he shouldn't have murdered the guy.

"I'd rather try to suck my own d!ck again than deal with 'hiding the evidence.' Why do we have to do this again? Cops are dumb as sh!t these days," Remus complained.

"I know I'd prefer not to continue a romantic relationship with someone whose only form of communication involves wired phones and bulletproof panes of glass, so yes, we have to do this unless you plan on spending the rest of your days in an orange jumpsuit and flirting with criminals," Logan deadpans.

He laughs, "You don't have to sell me on the idea, Logan. The only thing stopping me is your conservative a$$, who isn't willing to ruin any chance they have at getting a well-paying job that also happens to be legal, for his boyfriend," He shakes his head disapprovingly, "And they say I'm the least romantic one in our friend group. Then again, orange really isn't my color; I'm more of a green kind of guy. If anyone could pull off those terribly unsexy things it would be-"

"You bring that sorry excuse of a friend into this conversation, and I will gladly leave you to walk home," Logan cuts him off.

"And give me the perfect opportunity to start that sweat collection I could probably sell on Craigslist? If I had known it'd only take mentioning that weirdo to get you to snap I would've tried it a lot sooner," Remus crows happily, mind racing with the ideas of how high he should set the price per bottle, as well as what other situations bringing up their former friend could benefit him.

"What have I done with my life?" The intellectual man muttered. Seriously, what did he do wrong in his life to deserve such a horrible, yet sort of attractive in a strange way unseen by most, repercussion?

"Logan, look!" Remus held up his free hand, which now had an irritated raccoon attached to it, "Can we keep him? He'll be able to eat most of the body parts so we won't have to cross state borders every time, and this way Jan the library man and Virgin will finally end their argument about whether the emo looks like one!" He seemed rather proud of himself.

"Remus, it would take a single raccoon weeks to eat an entire human corpse, not counting the bones which they won't digest," Logan watches tired as his boyfriend tosses the stranger's body into the vertical grave, "Where would you keep the rest of the body to keep everyone we know from being able to smell it?"

"In the fridge, of course! We can't let Dork Weasel eat rotten meat because if another one of my pets dies Roman's gonna sick the local asylum's collection unit after me," The answer was quite obvious if you thought about it, at least to him, "Actually the freezer might work better, less people would look there if we have company. Do we still have those pizza rolls? I wonder if Dukey would like those."

"Wait, I thought you already named the raccoon 'Dork Weasel'?" Logan pointed out.

"That was thirty seconds ago, Logan. It's like you don't know me at all," He unceremoniously shook the animal off, piling dirt back into the grave.

He adjusts his tie, "On the contrary, I'm afraid I know you too well. For example, I already know you're going to do something stupid and incredibly incriminating."

Remus lowered his phone, having been about to take a selfie with the newly made grave, "No I'm not."

"Then, pray tell, what were you about to do?" Logan challenged.

"Send a juicy text to your preposterous mom!" He screeched defensively, running back towards the car, returning briefly to grab Roman II and tear off his pants.

"Seriously, what did I do?!" Logan asked the sky frustratedly, knowing full well he wouldn't get an answer. 

A/N: Geez, I've gotten pretty bad at working on these. In my defense, I've been working sort of hard on actual books recently, and school in combination with those has only worked to ensure that I won't fully recover from my burnout for a while