Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Someone else was wearing Virgil's hoodie. He wouldn't usually mind, of course, but when he was searching for it at 3am and it was no where to be found, it would have been nice to know.

Virgil had taken a grey hoodie of Patton's instead, as it was laying folded on the kitchen counter and Virgil wasn't in any state to complain. He was feeling restless again and a walk in the cold was all he could focus on. He dressed quickly and quietly, careful not to wake any of his other flatmates.

He had been quick, back just before 4am, and, as hoped, had gone straight to sleep. Well, once he had refolded Patton's hoodie, triple checked he had locked the doors and changed into some pyjamas.

He found his hoodie the next day - pooling around the small frame of his roommate, Logan sanders. It was dreadfully oversized for the man and practically hung like a knee high dress but admittedly, he did look comfortable.

Logan was laying on the couch, asleep, with his hand marking a page in a book about astronomy. Virgil took the book, stuck a stray piece of paper in the open page, and placed it nearby. He wasn't sure what to do now.

Just as he began retreating to another chair, Logan stirred and pulled a hand to rub at his eyes. Then he spotted Virgil.

The cogs started to turn in his head and he had realised what he was wearing, it was clear he was thinking hard, his brain still struggling to wake up. "Virgil, I- erhm. I must have mistaken your hoodie for mine."

Virgil wasn't angry in the slightest, only rather amused. "You don't own any hoodies, Lo."

"You're- you're right, I don't but I-" Logan made a small pout. "Hmph."

Virgil flopped onto the other sofa. "Don't sweat it, specs, I'm not mad."

Logan reached for the zip of the hoodie, "I should give this back-"

"No rush. I don't need it anytime soon." Virgil told him, and yawned.

It was a Sunday afternoon, the quietest day of the week. It always was. Roman was working as an intern for a nearby theatre group while making his way through theatre school; and Patton worked Sunday to Friday at the animal shelter. This left the asocial librarian and placid astronomy student in the apartment.

Virgil was about to remark that Logan looked better in it than he did anyway but the man was already asleep again; practically burrowed into the soft fabric.

The hoodie was washed and folded on Virgil's bed the next day.

————

The next Sunday, when the two were alone again, Virgil came across a peculiar sight in the living room. The usually calm and collected man was frantically locating and stacking as many books on astronomy as he could.

"Logan?" Virgil questioned.

"Hm? Oh." Logan's hands were shaking and there were faint purple bags under his eyes. "I have a test next week. I have to study, only, I can't focus."

"Logan," Virgil started again. "Did you sleep last night?"

Logan looked around at the abundance of paper coffee cups and energy-bars. "I couldn't."

Virgil shook his head. "You mean you wouldn't."

Logan just dropped his shoulders and rubbed his eyes. Virgil took his arm and led him away from the stack of books. Setting him on the sofa. He then cleared away as many coffee cups as he could find and the pile of wrappers.

"Take a break." He sat on the couch next to Logan and gestured him closer. "You wouldn't want to upset Yerkes Dodson, would you?"

Logan looked ready to respond to that but found he was suddenly very, very tired. Sleep was catching up with him fast and he found he could barely keep his eyes open. Then Virgil was unzipping his hoodie and pulling the soft material around Logan’s shoulders and he just couldn't resist it anymore. He leaned back, into Virgil and closed his eyes.

"Logan, your heart’s beating a hundred miles a minute, I'll have to have Remy ban you from the coffee shop." Virgil said in a soft voice, laying his arm over Logan's.

Virgil became aware that he was now trapped under logan and so turned on the TV. Soft noise played quietly as Virgil held onto Logan. This was so far out of their usual quiet routine that Virgil wasn't sure this wasn't an alternate universe.

————

When Roman and Patton arrived home at 7pm, chatting happily and discussing their days in turn, Virgil and Logan acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Patton made dinner, Roman talked about a simply adorable new actor in his class. Their name was Dee, and they had won Roman's 'Infatuation of the week award' as was clear by the excruciating detail in which the mannerisms they displayed and the silky tone of his voice was described. Virgil and Logan sat on opposite ends of the couch. Like usual.

————

And then there was a shift. A shift in their dynamic that had previously been to give each other room, sharing the flat while remaining a considerate space from each other, orbiting around the halls in a dance of respectful distance and limited conversations. The morph into a steady understanding that they could share closer quarters and remain quiet and respectful was a refreshing revelation, neither's boundaries crossed.

And so they had become aware of the four hours, Monday to Thursday, that they were all alone. Virgil worked 8AM until 2PM, Logan arrived home from university at 3PM, and Roman and Patton arrived home together at 7PM.

Usually, Logan would study in the living room, and Virgil would do Virgil-ey things. Whatever he felt like, generally reading or listening to music - but it wasn't out of the ordinary to find him colouring in or sitting atop the refrigerator.

Recently, Virgil began to take more interest in how Logan would study. Energy bars on hand with Remy on speed dial. So every time Logan got too wrapped up in his books and began to re-read pages because he just wasn't taking in the information, Virgil would step in, clear up, and wait until Logan fell asleep.

Which is how they lay on a cloudy Wednesday. Logan's coffee was starting to wear off and his eyes began to droop. He leaned back into Virgil, who was nice and warm and that was all that mattered. He began to drift off.

Virgil thought for a moment, his hands wavering in the air for a few seconds, before he placed them gently in Logan's hair. Giving Logan some time to protest if he wanted. And when Logan only sank further into Virgil, he continued. Pulling through strands and softly scraping at Logan's scalp. Virgil tentatively took Logan's glasses from his face, folding the legs and setting them on the coffee-table. Absentmindedly twisting the brown hair behind Logan's ears, he sighed.

Virgil had lost track of time but Logan was surely asleep. Eyes closed, breathing slowly, shifting slightly every once and a while. Virgil considered pulling logan closer, falling asleep himself, a tangle of limbs and soft fabrics. Nothing was stopping him. Nothing apart from the persistent thought that perhaps Logan wouldn’t want Virgil to get too comfortable with him and get the wrong idea about this little arrangement of theirs.

————

The next day, when Logan was about to call Remy, Virgil stopped him.

"No more coffee, it's only making you shake." Virgil slid the phone from his hands.

Logan's eye twitched as he reached out for his phone, "false- falsehood."

Virgil just narrowed his eyes.

Logan gave the taller man a look of dismay and crossed his arms. "I have a test in four days!"

"You're not getting any studying done while you're shaking!" And for the fourth time that week, Virgil pulled Logan away from his 'studies.' Perhaps this was crossing a line, Virgil had wondered. Taking Logan away from his school work seemed to benefit him in the moment, but grades meant everything to Logan and if Virgil's persistent distractions had made a difference to Logan's final grade there was no telling if he'd ever be forgiven. Although maybe that was just a vague concern that had grown arms and legs. Logan would call that 'snowballing'. 

In this instance, there was a difference. Logan looked deep in thought for a few moments before he left Virgil standing in the living room. Virgil’s heart and stomach both dropped suddenly in a sickening lurch. Fear bubbled quickly, he had finally crossed a line with Logan.

Before Virgil could spiral further, Logan emerged from his room with a thick comforter and trailing blankets. Virgil let a breathy laugh escape him.

Logan still looked contemplative, "We're not telling anyone about," he gestured between them "this?"

Virgil shook his head "No. Roman would never let it go."

Logan barely let Virgil finish before flashing a wide grin and throwing the comforter up and over Virgil's shoulders, "Good."

————

Although they would never be just as affectionate while Roman or Patton were around, Virgil started to notice quickly as the days continued the differences in Logan's interactions. It was as if he was becoming more needy for contact. While watching TV, he would be joined shoulder to knee with whoever was beside him. He would put his rest his hand on any of their shoulders as he was saying goodbye, and in Virgil's case, he would lean his head on his shoulder if he was growing tired during movie night.

Soon, Virgil and Logan were in a pattern. Logan didn't even have to be studying (although he usually was) and Virgil would pull him away from whatever he was doing, Logan would bring comforters and sometimes hot drinks, and they'd lay lazily together until ten minutes before their housemates arrived home.

It was perfect, in their opinion.

————

On a rather important Wednesday, Logan stormed home only halfway through his normal school day. It had already been a bad day. Roman and Patton had caught a head-cold and were sneezing into used tissues and getting their germs on their armchair. Virgil had phoned into work to say he was taking the day off to take care of them, Logan had rushed off to school before they could infect him, he needed to get his test results back.

The unfortunate series of events continued as Logan forgot about Patton and Roman. He was focusing on his dire need of some coffee and attention. He stumbled into the house and shoved the door closed behind him, his school bag thudded to the ground next to the door and Logan kicked it to really send the message home.

Roman and Patton were half asleep before Logan thundered into the apartment, they were sharing the same armchair in the corner. Virgil was resting, fuelling up on Gatorade and chewy candies that tasted vaguely medicinal; sprawled out on the couch.

Logan huffed loudly as faced walked towards the sofa and stood directly on front of Virgil, blocking everything else out. Virgil took in the look on his face and instantly moved the snacks to the coffee table. He made a small concerned noise in the back of his throat and glanced backwards to Roman and Patton, he gestured Logan to sit next to him. Logan decided to place himself directly into Virgil's arms and breathe calming breaths over Virgil's shoulder.

"Bad day, L?"

Logan made a sad sound and continued to use Virgil as a chin rest.

Patton and Roman were a perfect blend of shocked and drowsy, making no comments on the peculiar scene. They lay there, blinking slowly as their thoughts trudged around in their heads. It wasn't until Patton sneezed, almost ten minutes later, that Logan remembered they were there. He pushed himself up with a grimace and traipsed to his room without a glance to anyone in the room.

"I'm-" Patton sneezed a loud 'achyoo' again into a crumpled tissue, and continued "-sorry, Virgil"

"It's okay, Pat, I'll just go check on him."

Virgil walked down the hall and knocked gently on Logan's door. A grumble and a reluctant "come in." Was heard from inside.

Virgil found Logan in the dark, swaddled in layers of thick comforters and fluffy blankets. He sat down next to him. Logan just pouted before unwrapping the comforter and letting Virgil inside the burrow. There they lay, perfectly warm and entangled in each other's limbs.

Virgil carefully removed Logan's glasses and set them aside, pulling him closer in the cocoon of fabric. Logan sighed contently into the crook of Virgil's neck while Virgil buried his hands in Logan's hair. Logan looked up at him for a moment, once again deep in thought, before giving Virgil a small kiss on his jaw and promptly moving back to face his neck.

Virgil wasn't shocked, per se, more like... overwhelmingly content.

———

When Virgil woke up, he was thoroughly dehydrated and was in extreme need of some water. He carefully rested Logan's head on a pillow and slid his arm away. He'd be back in a moment. Logan sniffed. 

"Virgil?" He hadn't opened his eyes yet. "Where- where you going?"

Virgil blinked, "Just to get a drink, L."

Logan frowned but nodded.

Virgil very, very reluctantly pulled himself out of the blanket mound and stepped towards the kitchen where, to his surprise, Roman and Patton were standing. They were chatting quietly, cheeks flushed and noses red. Roman was toasting some bread. Virgil walked in sleepily and ran a glass under the faucet. Patton gave him a proud nod like a father would, although he was only a year older, and Roman winked at him.

Virgil rolled his eyes before heading back to Logan's room.

Logan made a noise when the door opened and wrapped his arms around Virgil instinctively the second he could reach him. Virgil pulled the fluffy blankets around Logan's shoulders again and tried his best to tuck them both in. Then he let Logan adjust his grip.

"You're the best." Logan murmured into Virgil's shoulder, there was a brief pause. "I love you."

Virgil’s eyes shot open but he didn't dare move.

"I love you too, L." Virgil smiled, his eyes dropping closed.

BONUS -

When Logan woke up, Virgil was already awake, biting at his nails and scrolling though his phone. The room was dark and it was clear only a few hours had passed.

“Hey, Virgil.” Logan croaked.

Virgil seized momentarily, before he turned to face Logan, “Oh, hey, Logan. How’d you sleep?”

Logan glanced to Virgil’s arms, “very comfortably.”

Virgil shone his phone towards Logan and he winced. He pulled the phone closer to read, since he didn’t have his glasses on but the words were still blurry.

“It’s pizza.” Virgil informed him, “do you want me to order pizza tonight?”

Logan nodded and moved closer to Virgil. “Yeah.”

Virgil paused. “Logan, what happened today?”

Logan didn’t bother deflecting. “I got a bad result on my test”

Virgil wondered what kind of result would warrant that kind of reaction, surely he hadn’t gotten an F, he’d tried so hard. Well,, whenever he wasn’t in Virgil’s arms. Virgil felt that same twang of guilt come across him that he was the reason for Logan’s misfortune. “Oh man, I’m sorry. What did you get?”

“A B-minus“

Chapter Text

Virgil was shaking. As was common these days. His hand were wrapped tightly around his knees, which were pulled into his chest; making himself as small as possible.

Logan was kneeling next to him, waiting patiently for the tremors to subside. "It's alright, Virgil. I'm here. Breathe in for five. Breathe out for seven." This was repeated for as long as it took. Logan had fallen into this routine alongside Virgil. It was rather sad. 

Virgil gripped his hair in his hands, a painful sob-hiccup hybrid sounding from his throat. Logan reached towards Virgil, stopping briefly for any signs that Virgil didn't want Logan any closer. When Virgil let his eyes droop sleepily, Logan moved his hands through Virgil's hair; pushing back the slightly damp fringe.

Virgil still jittered, clenching his jaw and scrunching his eyes closed. It wasn't working. Nothing was working. Virgil bit down on his lip, and focused through the tears building under his eyes. He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and further smudged eyeshadow dripping down his cheeks.

"Logan" Virgil whispered thickly, the word forced and rough, "will you sing for me?".

Logan was taken aback, of all possible outcomes he had run though, this wasn't one.

"If that will help, of course... Would you like me to get Roman instead? That is his area of expertise."

Virgil’s shaking hand landed quickly on Logan’s arm as he struggled to grip through the tremors. “Please don’t leave.”

Logan nodded, understanding. Virgil’s glassy gaze stayed fixed on his own pitying eyes through drooping eyelids. He was a mess. Hair clinging to his forehead, eyeshadow dripping down his face, snot on his sleeves and puffy red eyes. Logan couldn't look away. 

Virgil took a shaky breath in before pulling himself even closer to Logan. Resting his damp head on his shoulder and letting his eyelids droop.

Logan's low voice sounded next to him, calm and steady. "Any requests?  I'm have a vague understanding of the type of music which helps Thomas calm down, but as you know, I am not often sent to handle those situations."

"I don't mind. Something you like, or-" Virgil yawned, the shaking was beginning to calm down as he grew more and more exhausted, as if simply existing was the hardest thing in the world. "-Something Thomas likes then."

Logan thought for a moment, clearing his throat, then began to sing. Logan’s voice sounded forced, uncomfortably shoved through his throat. Singing really was Roman's speciality. Not his. He wasn’t supposed to sing, he was supposed to think. However as Virgil hummed weakly, he couldn't care to be self conscious.

Logan was sure that if he had a heart, it would be thudding, pounding, hammering in his chest. Logan thanked whomever was responsible, probably Thomas, that he didn’t have a heart.

Virgil looked to Logan through dark, damp eyelashes and hummed again, not to the tune, just a soft hum that made its way crawling across Logan’s skin.

———

It was a song Thomas liked. A song that Thomas liked and nothing more. But now it was more. Because Logan had sung it to him. He had asked of course, nonetheless, Logan.

Logans voice was in his mind, so awkward and wrong, but so very lovely. Repeating the lyrics he could remember like a prayer, religiously. He yearned to hear it again, there was nothing he wanted more than to hear Logan’s voice again.

Virgil wasn’t sure of much. His entire existence was a constant confliction, he was designed to agonise. It was tiring to say the least. But this he was sure of, he was sure he wanted to hear Logan again. He was sure of walking down the corridor and knocking his door... Which is where he found himself that evening.

"Virgil, are you alright?" Logan asked, concern in his voice. Virgil’s whole being sighed inwards, a voice he had heard thousands of times before, a voice he wished to never stop hearing.

“I’m okay, I just wanted to talk to you. About last night?”

Logan looked slightly perturbed, holding his polite smile nonetheless.

“Can we do that again?”

“Your mental state was extremely troubling... I don’t understand why you would want to repeat the experience.”

“Oh no- nonono- I meant like.. god okay-“ Virgil looked away from Logan, concentrating hard on his shoes and steeling himself. “-being close, hearing your voice? It helped.. a lot... and I think I want to do it again.”

The sides of Logan’s mouth twitched upwards, a small grin spreading across his face, “I wouldn’t be opposed”

Chapter Text

It had all started with a hoodie. Just one. A soft, black hoodie that was stretched and worn. The sleeves fell over his hands; the pockets hung so low that he could pull them over his knees comfortably and the hood wouldn’t keep out of his eyes, which is why he kept it down.

Janus’ anxiety inducing boyfriend hadn’t even noticed the theft until he’d sleepily tried to grip Janus’ hand but was blocked by a layer of soft, thick, familiar fabric.

Virgil didn’t mind. He didn’t wear the hoodie much and Janus happened to look lovely in it. What did it matter? It was only one hoodie.

Until it wasn’t.

Soon many hoodies started disappearing from their drawers, one after the other until Virgil was stuck with the one worn hoodie he was wearing, because taking it off would mean Janus had a chance at nabbing it.

Even his prized purple-patched hoodie was gone, which Thomas complained about. “Virgil we need to film your scenes. Why can’t you just ask for it back?”

Sweet, naive, little Thomas. If Janus had his sneaky hands on a prized possession, whoever had been foolish enough to let him near would never get it back. He was more dragon than snake - Roman had joked after one of his shiniest crowns had mysteriously vanished - with all the hoarding and stealing. His room must have looked like a glittery cavern, a vault of gold.

Either way, “asking for it back” wouldn’t work. Virgil had to beat Janus at his own game.

————

Janus lethargically traipsed into Virgil's room, yawning sleepily. The sleeve of the oversized hoodie he was wearing flapped over his mouth to cover his sigh.

Unlike Janus, Virgil kept his bed in the corner of his room. Having a “centre bed” was for loons. His corner bed stopped demons, ghosts, monsters and the like from rising up where he couldn’t see them. He could keep an eye on one side of the bed, but he’d never get a wink of sleep knowing something could appear behind him at any moment.

Snuggling himself into the corner, Janus sighed. He pulled his hands from his sleeves and made a finger-tugging motion towards Virgil, who guffawed at him, waving him off and murmuring he’d be there in a moment.

Janus took a deep breath of the fabric; it had almost lost it's Virgil-scent. At least he had a plethora of other Virgil-hoodies to choose from.

While he waited, Janus acknowledged that it was good that the pair mostly spent time in Virgil’s room (Janus’s room made Virgil slightly uneasy. He’d found himself impulsively telling little white lies after spending a night there) because he had run out of closet, drawer and even cavern space to store the countless hoodies along with his own complex outfits and the multitude of other items he’d stolen along the years. So he’d had to start piling them on his desk, his desk chair, bedside cabinets and on his bed.

Virgil sighed and turned around to face Janus. A defeated expression plastered on. "Okay, where are all my hoodies."

Janus rolled his eyes as he folded two sets of arms, set one in his pocket and raised one to nonchalantly inspect, brushing his fingernails over with his thumb.
“Darling, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “C’mon, J, where are you keeping them all?”

Janus folded the last two of his arms, resolutely. “That’s none of your concern.”

Virgil squinted his eyes but, in a matter of seconds, decided his boyfriend was more important for now, he’d search Janus’s room later.

All six of Janus’s hands revealed themselves at once, two tugging at the air again, two steadying Janus on the bed, and two idle in his lap. As he approached, Virgil wondered what the other sides would think if they ever saw this side of Janus. Without shame, without his trust issues, with nothing to hide and nothing to protect. It was rather thrilling the first time Virgil had been allowed to see.

Virgil took two of Janus’s hands in his own. The other four wrapping round his waist as soon as they were in reach.

————

It had been three days since Virgil had sworn he'd get his hoodies back. It had been three days since Janus had moved half of his hoodies into the imagination. Virgil had one hoodie left. It was purple and he was frightened to take it off for fear it would vanish.

Janus outright refused to return his clothes, (At least finally admitting he had taken them in the first case) so he'd cause a little mischief of his own. Janus had scheduled a meeting with Thomas to pitch an idea, something about non-violent revenge plots or something of the manner. So it was Virgil's time to strike.

Of course, he couldn't get into Janus's room without him knowing. The only way to go undetected was to have already been in the room when an unsuspecting Janus left. A few side affects of staying in the room was worth him being able to escape his one, single, probably-stinking hoodie.

His plan was simple.

1. Stay the night in Janus’s room.
2. Wait until Janus left.
3. Take four or five hoodies from the bottom of a pile Janus must have somewhere.
4. Repeat over the next... however long it took.

He waited until Janus had left, still feigning sleep, then began to search the room. Socks, Trousers, Shirts, Underwear, Blankets, Capes.

No hoodies.

Virgil dug below a pile of T-Shirts and his hand hit something jarring. Not fabric at all. A piece of paper was sticking out and he grabbed it. Pale yellow with black ink in cursive written on the top.

"You're not getting your hoodies back xx"

Shit. He was always one step ahead. Virgil decided not to bother with being angry, he skipped straight to revenge. Grabbing as many T-Shirts as possible and kicking the bedroom door open.

Janus would notice the next day. And they could return the stolen belongings or carry on until they owned each other's entire wardrobe.

Unfortunately for Virgil, it was the latter. Evident by the lack of trousers in his drawer. He'd worn pyjama bottoms throughout the rest of the day. Virgil struck back by Janus's shoes. Going the extra mile and also taking away the thick rubber heel-lifts from inside that Janus used to make himself significantly taller; hiding them separately.

————

Virgil wore a black button-down from Janus' “casual wear” and creasy trousers that made funny noises when he moved.

When he opened his top drawer, the only one that hadn’t been robbed blind so far, he found it empty. He turned to face Janus, who was now leaning in the doorway.

"So, you've stolen my socks?"

Janus smirked, a pair of fluffy yellow socks on his feet, "perhaps."