Sanders Sides One-Shots!!

2. take my heart clean apart (intruality)

Thomas is pining over someone. He's heartsick—and Patton's running a little (okay, a lot) worse for wear over it. Like heck he'll ever let someone know about it though.

(Someone finds out anyway.)

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Pairing(s): Intruality (the Duke | Remus + Morality | Patton), romantic or platonic

Content Warning(s): eating, sickness, one(two?) f-bomb(s) à cause de Remus, brief mentions of rioting, vomiting (non-graphic), brief (non-graphic, non-sexual) nudity (Patton just takes a bath lol), some potty humor, some innuendo (I think?? just basically Remus being...Remus)

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"AAACHOO!"

The sneeze echoes through the commons. Five pairs of eyes swivel around to find its source.

Patton sniffs. Debates wiping his nose on the heel of his hand. Rethinks, exits the kitchen, reaches for the box of tissues on the table in the living room.

"Are you all right, Patton?" Logan asks from his seat at the end of the couch, peering up from behind a comedically large kinesics textbook.

Patton honks his nose on a tissue before crumpling it up into his fist. "I'm fine, Lo-lo!" He forces a smile, ignoring the throbbing in his head as he does so. "The top shelves in the kitchen cabinets are just a bit dusty. We should probably clean them sometime this week."

"I'll take care of it after dinner," Roman volunteers from where he and Virgil are sprawled out on a mountain of bean-bags in front of the television.

"Aw, thanks, kiddo! You're such a tremendust help!" Patton enthuses, ignoring everyone else's collective groan at his pun. (Janus can say they're awful all he likes, but Patton knows the truth.)

Remus pops up from behind the couch, his shoulders suspiciously bare. His mouth stretches out into a sharp grin. "Hey, daddy-o, can I have your used tissue?"

Patton jumps slightly, still not really used to having Remus' antics out quite so loud and proud. He side-eyes Roman's twin. "...If I say no, are you going to dig it out of the trash can anyway?"

"Oh, you know me so well," Remus says, and cackles as a lovingly exasperated (and thoroughly grossed out) Patton lobs the balled-up tissue in his direction.

Not particularly wanting to find out what Remus is going to do with the used tissue, Patton turns to head back into the kitchen. He pauses for a moment by the sink and lathers up, taking care to wash his hands and forearms with nice, warm water before he continues making dinner.

Patton briefly stirs the pot of simmering beef stew before clambering back up onto the small stepladder he had previously been on. Reaching eye level with the tippy top shelf, he sticks his hand in and roots around for the special soup bowls they never use. He really wasn't lying—the shelf was indeed quite dusty. (Good thing Janus hadn't seemed to detect his teensy little lie of omission earlier.)

A stack of six bowls clutched tightly in one hand, Patton slowly descends down the ladder, careful not to fall. It's more difficult than usual; the rave his pounding head is trying to throw seems to be interfering with his sense of balance.

Patton sets the bowls off to the side of the stove, once more turning his attention to the stew. He stirs it again, then opens the silverware drawer and snags a spoon to taste-test his creation.

In this state, he can't really taste any flavor or the seasonings he put in, but from how the stew pleasantly burns his tongue and slithers down his scratchy throat, he at least knows it's plenty warm enough to serve.