Among Us - Sweater Weather
an among us inspired sweater weather fic
1,033 words
“Okay, I mean it this time, no talking,” Logan said seriously. The teammates were crowded into Logan and Leo’s (and unofficially Finn’s) hotel room after their on-the-road win against Pittsburgh. It was late, and everyone was tired, but the adrenaline from the win kept everyone from wanting to sleep just yet, especially with the promise of a long bus ride in the morning to doze off during.
“And no giggling either, looking at you Tremz,” Thomas emphasized with a pointed index finger.
“Sorry. But that was only because I was the imposter last time, I won’t be it again this game anyway,” Logan said as the Start countdown began.
“Not how statistics work,” Remus mumbled. Sirius started to say something in return, but stopped as the shhh screen popped up. Someone in the hotel room was the imposter, and everyone else was innocent. All the competitiveness of being on the ice applied here.
The room was silent for a brief moment, but as the emergency meeting screen flared, all nine men began speaking at once. “What’s going on?” James’s voice carried over the others, looking at Pascal.
“Yeah, what’s going on?” Pascal asked, confused as to why all eyes were on him.
“Dumo,” a collective groan went out, drawing out the vowel.
“I think you’re the one who called the meeting,” Leo said politely, while Logan laughed, pushing his feet up into the blond’s lap.
“Oh,” Dumo said, squinting at the screen.
After the group unanimously voted to skip, the silence resumed. Remus stifled a smile as Sirius’s avatar, appropriately named Cap, followed him along as he went about completing his little tasks of connecting wires and downloading data.
“Oh my GOD,” Finn complained loudly, throwing himself back onto Leo’s previously neat stack of pillows.
“No talking,” Logan reminded him, but looked suspiciously amused. A moment later, his body was found and reported by James. Discussion broke out, everyone choosing to simply speak rather than use the chat feature, except for James’s insistent typing of variant spellings of inappropriate words, seeing what was and wasn’t censored.
“I want to point out how happy Logan looks right now,” Kasey suddenly spoke up.
“Quoi?” Logan spluttered. “If I was the imposter I wouldn’t have killed Finn first!”
“Well.” Leo patted Logan’s feet to soften the blow of his next words. “I feel like that’s exactly what you would have done.” The teammates laughed, and when the voting time started, they reluctantly (in some cases) voted out the red “TREMZ,” all capitals. Logan shouted at them when “was not an imposter” flashed on their screens.
“See! See! Whatever, I get to cuddle my boyfriend now,” Logan said. Finn laughed and opened his arms for him.
Remus could feel Sirius’s eyes on him and couldn’t help but laugh. “We can cuddle later,” Remus whispered.
“Yuck!” Thomas grimaced. “The no talking rule goes back into effect now.” Remus laughed, knowing that he and Sirius, and the cubs, both had Talker’s full support; he had already defended them to paparazzi and opposing players multiple times.
“Great, now I’m dead,” Dumo deadpanned. “And I never even figured out how to connect the wires,” he added in amazement, mostly to himself.
“Come cuddle with the other ghosts!” Finn welcomed, left arm extended, with Logan held tightly in his left.
“Mon fils,” Dumo said plainly, “no.”
After a few more moments, a black avatar named “POTTS” called an emergency meeting. “I saw Blizzard vent!” James announced. “And look, Talker is dead now but no one found his body.”
“I did not vent,” Kasey said simply, with a completely expressionless face.
“Woah, goalie face. So creepy!” James laughed. “Vote him out.”
Kasey was the imposter, and James whooped unnecessarily loud. “Whoever sleeps near this room is probably mad we’re being so loud,” Remus pointed out, feeling a little guilty for the noise that was (mostly) caused by the others.
“It’s gonna be loud later too,” Finn said with a smirk, before Leo cut him off by holding a pillow to his face.
“Gross, gross, okay, new game.” James stacattoed.
“Last game,” Remus amended. He knew that Coach would hold him accountable for Sirius’s sleep schedule no matter what now, and when he was the only non-player in a given room, Coach would rely on him to enforce some level of good decision-making.
As the game started, it was silent, with little gasps announcing a crewmate’s sudden death, but they hadn’t been reported until five of them had perished. This round’s imposter was not making any mistakes. After the team (incorrectly) voted out Leo, only Remus (Loops), Sirius (Cap), Thomas (Talkie), and James (POTTS) were left.
The lights in the game were sabotaged, and when they finally came back online, Remus was hiding a grin with one hand.
Sirius followed Remus to the security room, where Remus absentmindedly clicked on the camera button. Remus noted with amusement that “Cap” stayed at the entrance of the room, and didn’t follow him to the camera. He was likely trying to protect Remus from whoever the imposter was. Remus took a moment to appreciate how adorable and sappy and Sirius that type of behavior was, before also appreciating the fact that Sirius’s protectiveness meant he didn’t see James’s body on the screen right in front of the admin room’s camera.
As Remus’s kill cooldown hit five seconds, Talker joined them in the security room, and Sirius positioned his little crewmember body (black, he had insisted), in front of Remus’s cyan one. Talker, in purple, got the message and stayed by the door. Neither man knew that the three of them were the only ones left alive.
When Remus’s kill cooldown hit zero, he quickly and mercilessly killed Sirius, for the win. The silent room erupted in cheers, jeers, and laughter (mostly from Remus).
“I was protecting you,” Sirius whined, eyebrows stuck high on his forehead.
“Sorry baby,” Remus leaned over to give his betrayed boyfriend a peck on the lips. Sirius caught his arm and prolonged the kiss, to the dismay of some of the others.
Finn grinned, now holding a hand of each of his boys. “Bitch ass moves, Loops,” he said approvingly. “Bitch. Ass. Moves.”
