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Janus didn’t venture the Imagination often, it was a confounding labyrinth, and given how often he entered through Remus’ entrance to the domain, it had a tendency to give him migraines. In the rare times he needed to talk with either of the brothers who had power here, he would simply wait for them to return to their respective rooms instead. It was much more convenient than wasting precious hours trying to seek them out in the madness of their own design.
Today he had his reasons to be making the journey, however, one very peculiar and enticing reason regarding Logan who he’d left in the care of their very own duke.
Tensions were high these days, what with the recurring appearances made by Remus and himself, and those tensions led to an orange shine in deep blue eyes with each biting statement, every pointless argument followed by the deafening silence of ignorance. Of course, that left Janus to figure out a solution himself—it wasn’t as if the others were versed in such things, bickering amongst themselves the way they did.
In the near distance, a roman colosseum stood tall and proud as if it was ripped straight from the history books. It was aptly chosen, Janus supposed, given how Roman and Remus’ parallelled the founders of Rome itself.
The clatter of steel and mocking laughter echoed through the corridors of the colosseum, making it easier to follow the sound until he came to one of many entryways into the arena where he watched from the shadows—even from this far away, he could see the gleam of orange in Logan’s eyes as the man watched Remus circle him, two predators in the ring.
Most would think Logan as prey, his cold demeanour and his mental capabilities making him come across as nothing more than—well—a nerd but Janus knew better. He’d seen the violent streak in Logan, the frustration and rage that boiled under his blood and wrapped around him in taut, orange puppet strings, marionetting him against his will. That’s why he’d suggested an outlet, sparring against the likes of Remus or himself when the time called for it, rather than having him lash out like a petulant child.
The snake snorted in amusement, watching as Logan ate dirt as he went face-first into the hard ground. He was given no time to retrieve his weapon or get to his feet when Remus loomed over him, menacing with his blood-shot eyes and morning star raised high above his head. If he wasn’t aware of their ability to remove injury with a snap of the fingers, Janus might have winced because he swore he could feel the sharp spikes of Remus’ weapon dig into Logan’s back as it came swinging down—over, and over, and over…
It came as no surprise that Remus would win most of their sparring matches given how unpredictable he was and his insane strength. That wasn’t even touching on the fact that Remus often fought dirty, throwing dirt and sand in people’s eyes or going as far as stripping nude to psyche people out. It had honed Remus into a fearsome combatant and it took trickery and smarts to win, something a rage-induced Logan couldn’t seem to muster.
Before the inevitable clobbering to death—as temporary as it would be—Janus stepped out into the arena, making his presence known to the men. His clapping caught Remus’ attention, the man leaning into his morning star even more as he looked up at Janus with a toothy grin, “Jan!”
“Remus, in a million years, I would never have guessed you’d win against Logan again. Very surprising.”
Digging the spikes further into Logan who let out a pained groan, Remus left him to suffer from the morning star precariously balanced on top of him before running up to meet Janus, scooping up the unsuspecting snake like a rag doll and tossing him around in his arms, “Look, Dorkus Maximus; Janus is here to watch me pound your ass, we might have ourselves a ménage à trois here!”
“Remus, place me down if you will,” Janus waited until he was dropped to the floor, landing on his feet before he approached Logan to crouch beside him. “You look to be having trouble down there, Logan.”
“What a brilliant observation,” Logan snarked back, his voice betraying how much pain he was in.
With an amused huff, Janus picked up the morning star to hand back to the Duke who came strolling over with boisterous laughter. He smiled back at his closest friend, “Roman is having a creative dilemma—you’re better at handling darker topics, your help would be greatly appreciated.”
“What about L for Loser over here?” Remus gestured to Logan who was dusting himself off, pushing to his feet slow and weak.
“I’ll handle the sparring match for now,” Janus waved him off, “I think you’ve beaten him half-to-death enough times now to boost your ego.”
He had reached down to help Logan back to his feet, Janus cursed when Remus got there first—dragging Logan back onto his feet by his bloodied shirt, steadying him with a toothy grin and a wink. Janus rolled his eyes, watching as Remus used his power here in the Imagination to remove Logan’s horrific injuries. They had been pretty bad but they were temporary and easy to rectify, no reason to worry but mental health—that’s where actual damage could be done—and it was Janus’ duty to help those in need. To preserve and protect, one might say.
Remus dismissed his morning star with a simple flail of the hand and readied himself to leave with a simple, “Alright boys, don’t have too much fun without me—you know how much seeing two guys play dirty gets me going!”
And just like that, he was gone leaving the two alone in the deafening silence of the arena. Logan took the reprieve as a moment to stretch himself out, his joints popping and bones cracking. Even then, Logan looked as uptight and taut with fury and ruin in his veins as he had before Janus arrived, every muscle tense and each movement holding an intense weight to them. Janus merely circled Logan, slow, and once more, it was predator against predator.
“How are you feeling, Logan?”
“I’m fine—” a lie, one that Janus could spot from a mile away in the way Logan’s lips pressed together in a thin line and his knuckle-white fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t lie to him, it was stupid to try and he knew Logan wasn’t stupid. “—Stop looking at me like that.”
When the two were alone, they’d built up a rapport with one another where Janus could get Logan to speak with honesty, to speak his mind, and admit to his feelings. So far, these little sparring matches and their private conversations had done wonders for Logan’s aggression and dwindling patience. There were always going to be times he’d slip up and lash out but that was to be expected, even the sides weren’t perfect by any means.
He came to a stop in front of Logan, “You want to know what I think?”
Logan crossed his arms over his chest, pulling himself inwards and somehow managing to look more like a stone statue with every passing second. It was as if he’d crumble under the weight of Janus’ green-yellow eyes on him if he didn’t restrain every muscle and fiber in his stone-cold body. Nothing that Janus hadn’t dealt with before, he just needed Logan to release all of that tension.
“I think you’re upset that Patton and Virgil both talked over you today, especially seeing as how those two often like to bring up how much they love and respect your reasoning and what you do for them as Logic—” He circled Logan, watching for any sign of sudden movement. “I think you’re angry that I merely had to paraphrase your whole argument and lecture to make your point be heard, that you weren't even acknowledged for such.”
He stopped once more in front of him before stepping into Logan’s personal space, a coy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He could feel the ghost of Logan’s breath over his lips, the other side towering over him in height, and Janus couldn’t help but twirl his fingers in the blue silk fabric of the tie before harshly yanking Logan down so he could whisper in his ear, “Are you ready to lose to me again ?”
The fist came hurtling towards him, he might not have seen it if he couldn’t read Logan’s body as if it was scripture on Sunday. The fury that seared through him, a liquid fire that forged him into somethingdangerous, unusually strong for someone grounded in logic and reasoning, in wits and words. This is why he brought Logan here.
Those damned orange eyes , Janus thought as a third arm was conjured up, defending him from the oncoming blow.
He reached out to grab the arm, swinging him around with an iron-clad grip as he pushed the arm into Logan’s back, harsh with how violently he’d twisted him. The third hand waited to shove Logan down into the dirt as Janus swept his ankles, knocking Logan’s legs out from under him and watching him fall into the ground.
“You’re being reckless, throwing your weight around like some brute,” Janus sneered. “I didn’t realise I was fighting Roman.”
Resorting to insults may be lowly—Patton had told him how unfair it was for him to use cutting words to gain the edge over somebody, to prove a point—but it was the best way to get into Logan’s headspace. To push him, to make him feel with every fiber of his being, and fight back.
Logan rose to his feet once more, the flames stoked, as Logan brought up his hands to guard. That’s what Janus wanted—he never said he didn’t have an ulterior motive after all—because now, he’d see Logan get serious. He’d be calculated, he’d try hard and fight even harder. It was promising compared to the pathetic display seconds ago, it’s exactly what Janus craved from Logan.
Blocking and side-stepping, Janus and Logan traded blows in a dance they made up with each step. He stayed on the defensive, planning to wait for an opening or tire Logan out first before he made his strike—honing in on his senses, a practiced predator in his own right as Janus was ready to devour this crow whole.
If he felt as if Logan was slacking or hesitating, he’d goad him on with harsh words and biting impressions of their dearest friends. It was manipulative, Janus was aware, but he was certain Logan had caught onto his trickery long ago and he never once called him out on such dirty tactics.
With a quick side-step and a spin, Janus’ body became pale and sickly white with darkened eyes and strands of purple. He let his hands dance down Logan’s spine before the man whipped around, taking Janus’ appearance in—a perfect copy of Virgil if he might say so. He might not have been expecting such trickery so soon or maybe he was just impressed, Janus would take it as a compliment regardless as he brought Logan down to his knees once more, crushing down on the man’s neck with his foot.
He crouched down, leaning his weight into his foot, with a smirk and a leer, “What’s the matter? Can’t compete with the snake or the spider, Lo?” His taunting tone echoed loud and thunderous, off-beat somehow, in a way that was more Janus than Virgil. He couldn’t get everything down.
He pushed down further to stand upright before kicking Logan in the chest, forcing him to roll onto his back as he took in the man’s appearance. His clothes were filthy, untucked, and unkempt as was his hair, and bruises were going to paint that fair skin pretty greens, purples, and yellows by the end of it. As Logan groaned, his mouth parting, Janus could see the blood in his teeth and a shiver shot down Janus’ spine as he took in the bloodied and battered Logan.
Fuck, those orange eyes staring back at him made him even more distracting.
He should have been focusing on the fight—a foolish mistake to let one’s guard down—because his taunts and toying with Logan as if he was a broken toy drew out something glorious . He went to drag Logan back up to his feet, similarly to how Remus had done so, before finding himself falling onto his back and his illusion splintering in places. He hadn’t seen it coming for once, far too focused on how red suited the logical side far too well for his own good as the man spat blood out onto the earth.
His feet had been swept out from under him, throwing him off-balance and making him unsteady, before a sharp uppercut caught him in the jaw. He felt his skull rattle in his head, there wasn’t enough time to guard against the second punch that had him doubling over in pain, winding him. Janus stumbled backward, trying to get his balance back and put distance between the two of them when a third punch connected with him, making his neck snap to the right. The force of it alone was enough to break the remains of the illusion, fracturing what little remnants of it had been left.
Reaching up to feel the blood streaming down his nose, Janus winced at how it was likely broken. The whole thing felt tender and sore, a little out-of-place and gushing blood like the River Nile during the seven plagues of Egypt. He didn’t have a second to fix it or put it back into place, finding himself pulling his arms up to defend his face as Logan got up close, swinging again.
Peering out from behind his arms, Janus let out a surprised yelp when he found his arm grabbed instead and twisted around Logan’s before he was put in an arm-lock. The hold wasn’t so different from the one Logan had been trapped in before and as he tried to kick outwards or scramble for any purchase to escape, he was frozen into place when a warm body pressed dangerously close to the back of him. With no fight in him and thoughts whirring around in his head, between trying to fight off arousal and figure a way out of this predicament, Janus found himself shoved and pinned into one of the walls of the colosseum arena. He let out a pained whine when his head bounced against the stone wall, knocking his tender broken nose and stirring deep arousal inside him—more fuel for the fire, he supposed, that’s what he gets for coming here for selfish reasons like lust.
He felt any taunts or jabs he had gotten stuck in his throat when he managed to twist enough to see Logan in his periphery, the sight was mouth-watering and dangerously beautiful. God, Logan was fucking gorgeous. His body was lax but iron-clad, chest heaving with each heavy breath and blood staining his teeth and the way he looked at him as if he was about to devour him— a predator, Janus thought, the crow drives its beak into the snake and devours it inside out —and it had Janus squirm in his grasp.
And those orange-ringed eyes. Fuck.
Logan had no right being so attractive this way, feral and a mess and a disgrace to his usual sensibilities. Overtaken with rage and instinct and everything he’d sought out to never be. He couldn’t help but groan and bury his face in the concrete and tuff wall to escape those hungry eyes.
He felt Logan press into him, breathing down his neck and his voice low in a way that made Janus feel terrified and excited all at once, “Surrender, Janus.”
Janus meant to concede the victory, congratulate Logan on beating him but he couldn’t help himself, “What if I want you to devour me?”
The grip around his arm tightened, the other being crushed against Janus’ own body, and the pleasant sting drew out a whimper from Janus. The feeling of being pinned in place, of the helplessness and the thought of being at Logan’s mercy, was exhilarating , he couldn’t help himself as he tried to rut up against the wall for anything —some sort of friction, no matter how painful.
Logan had taken a few seconds to process this, too long for Janus’ liking, before growling low in his ear, “Say that again.”
He could deny everything, lie through his bloodied teeth and preserve what little dignity he had left, it wouldn’t be uncharacteristic of him to do so but he came here for one thing and it was presenting itself right now so with a growl back, needy and desperate, “I want you to take me, I want you to devour me in my entirety and have me at your mercy—break me, Logan, surely you can manage that much!”
The hold on him slackened, giving him ample space to turn around and in all honesty, Janus was afraid he’d scared Logan away with such crass words. Even so, he wasn’t going to give anybody the satisfaction of saying he couldn’t speak the truth as he stared up at those deep blue eyes with the glowing amber rings. The silence was tense, every breath resounding like an echo as the next move was being calculated like a game of chess.
Logan reached forward, using one hand to push Janus back into the wall roughly and the other gripping his jaw, forcing the snake to maintain eye contact with him. The logical side waited for any resistance—waiting for something that would disprove Janus’ words and it was a resistance he would not receive—before knocking their teeth together in a messy and bruising kiss, a hiss of pain silenced with his tongue pressing against red-stained teeth and tugging at pink lips.
Janus arched into him, hands reaching up to tangle themselves in disheveled hair and trying to draw Logan in deeper, pulling him as close as he could as his own tongue went out to meet Logan’s tongue. He let out a moan when a hand slid down from his jaw and wrapped around his throat, pushing him into the harsh stone that dug into his back. The taste of sweat and blood and something that could only be described as being Logan made his head spin with arousal. This was what he wanted, this .
Janus drew back as far as he could when Logan’s hold on his throat relaxed, letting his head lull back and thud against the stone wall, exposing his neck in encouragement and submission to a stronger foe. He grinned, fangs on show as he tugged at Logan’s hair to grab his attention, “Come on, little bird, make good on my words.”
Logan watched him with darkened eyes, clouded with arousal and highlighted by the ring of orange once more. Janus found him experimenting with the pressure on his throat, with little bites and nips at the pale, dirtied skin that was beaded with sweat.
“Fuck—” Logan cursed upon releasing Janus’ throat, instead choosing to bury his teeth in Janus’ neck and mumbling against the sweet skin exposed to him. “—You’re so pretty like this, all flustered and fucked up and begging for it.”
Janus doesn’t hold back the keening noises and whimpers, keeping white-knuckled hands in Logan’s dark locks of hair while the man’s hands roamed and wandered down his body to find bruises where he’d press his fingers against the blemishes, drawing whines and pained groans from him. He couldn’t help but rut upwards into him, Logan grinding back down mercilessly in search of friction.
“Clothes, clothes—Logan, come on!” Janus snapped, yanking Logan’s head back to get his attention.
Janus didn’t waste time with buttons and the likes, tearing through Logan’s shirt with a ferocity that was unmatched and the two scrambled to get out of their trousers, underwear tossed to the dirt at their feet as fast as possible so they could get their hands on one another once more. He couldn’t wait, pulling Logan closer to him once more to kiss him hungrily, hands trailing down dark curls of chest hair and memorising each nook and cranny of the man’s body and the way it felt pressed against him.
Logan pushed him back up against a wall, prompting him to grind back as Logan rutted up against him. Janus let him have his way, only stepping out of line to do one thing—he raked his nails deep into the man’s back, drawing blood and raising little valleys in the expanse of his fair skin before leaning into the man’s neck, unlatching his jaw as he breathed in the scent before gripping him in his fangs. He’d leave a mark, there was no doubt, too distinct to dismiss.
Good, Janus thought as his tongue lapped at the blood from the puncture wound, he’s all mine.
“All yours, Janus,” Logan groaned back, his dick leaking against Janus’ ass. He hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud but god if it wasn’t good to hear. “What do you want, Janus? Tell me what you want, how much do you think of me taking you this way?”
One arm pressed against his throat, pinning him there with his weight behind the hold and the other reaching down to fondle his sack, taunting him with being so close yet so far. He felt as if he was drowning in the sensation, teetering on the edge yet finding himself unable to plummet off the side. He tried to breathe, tried to take in the picturesque beauty of a heaving chest and taut muscles with unrestrained and feral strength.
Logan truly was beautiful when he was wild, unrestrained—no, he was beautiful all the time but there was something irresistible and delectably raw about Logan this way with ocean blue eyes ringed in an amber glow. Janus was certain he was losing himself.
“Never—” the arm pressed down on him, making him choke on his own words before he was given reprieve enough to swallow in gulps of air. “—I lied, I think about it all the time, I can't stop. You look so pretty with an amber glow.”
“Speak for yourself,” Logan chuckled, mouthing at the sensitive parts of Janus’ collarbone and up to his neck, eager to explore every bit of skin he can get his hands or mouth on. If it was any other time and Janus wasn’t so wound up, he’d encourage the curiosity about his body but he thrust up against Logan, reaching up to pull at his hair once more.
“Logan, please,” he begged, his voice a pathetic whine. “I’m so close.”
If he was a little smug about how he had Logan wrapped around his fingers, could feel the way his cock twitched at how desperate and how pretty Janus had begged for him, well, he kept it to himself for the time being. Any lingering thoughts were lost on him anyhow, as soon as Logan had wrapped both their cocks in his hands and fuck—Logan had such big hands and such a thick cock in comparison to his own, it was almost embarrassing to see them side-by-side but the friction, so sweet and delicious as a spit-slick hand stroked them both in tandem.
“ Logan, fuck—!” Janus choked out.
He couldn’t stop himself from chasing the pleasure he sought after, thrusting up into his hand and against the man’s cock, electricity coursing through Janus and his nails digging crescent markings into the man’s shoulders as he clung to him desperately, his legs growing weak under the overwhelming sensation as Logan stroked faster, squeezed tighter while holding him against the wall, arm digging into his throat enough to make his breathing shallow.
For the first time, Janus felt like prey at the mercy of the predator. He was a dying snake but there was no escape, no fight in him to try and flee with his life as Logan dug into his throat, left bruises and bite marks, and twisted his wrist to draw a cacophony of lewd sounds from Janus in the most violent and desperate act of lust and wrath, the two intertwined.
And he hadn’t lied about being close, just from the rough treatment and the sparring alone—he fell over the edge with a quick pump, a tight squeeze pressing their cocks together and come spilled over his hand, making a slick mess that Logan used to keep fucking into his own hand and rub Janus until he was so oversensitive he was on the verge of tears, not stopping until he spilled over as well. The two looked wrecked, exhausted, and satisfied as they slid down the colosseum wall onto the rough ground with stones and pebbles that cut into their knees and curled into one another, taking a second to catch their breaths.
It was a tedious task but if Logan could make the effort to pull him into his lap so he was sitting comfortably, then Janus could make the effort to clean them up, his fingers snapping. It’d do them no good to be caught in such a compromising state anyhow, especially by the likes of the twins if they wandered in. He just wanted to press himself as close to Logan as possible, arms wrapping loosely around his neck and snuggling into the crook of the man’s neck.
The man himself had a deep red flush that spread out from his cheeks and all the way under the collar of his black shirt—he was beginning to hate how he’d replaced their clothing or at the very least, Logan’s shirt—that Janus counted as a victory he could keep in his memories forever, a tired and gentle smile working its way onto his face. Eventually, Logan managed to string a sentence together.
“That was—” he coughed, clearing his throat, “Interesting, prodigious almost.”
Janus felt a chuckle low in his throat as one hand stroked up and down the length of Logan’s arm, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of the man’s lips. He liked Logan like this too, he decided, this was just as good but—
“How about next time, I show you the fun way to be beaten down into the dirt?”