Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Roman Prince leans against his locker, the same cocky smile he always wore fresh on his face. A group of fellow jocks in matching red varsity jackets were huddled around him, joking and teasing amongst one another, occasionally slapping or shoving each other after a particularly rude or insulting comment.

Roman usually wasn't one for that. Light teasing and joking perhaps, but never particularly bullying his friends. He never liked the responses they'd have, and his friends never particularly knew how to hold back when it came to jokes. Perhaps a filter would do them good, but until they developed one, Roman would watch and snicker from the sidelines.

Although he was close with them, and focused a lot on the sports that he played, he had a love for theatre, and often would charm people with his pop-culture references, light-hearted and casual nature, and frequent compliments and silly nicknames he'd assign to people.

Teachers loved him. Students loved him. Everyone loved him.

Well, almost everyone.

Pan to Virgil Addams, a snarky, pessimistic, opinionated boy who spoke his mind under his breath as he glared at those with notably stupid opinions. His teachers regarded him as just another student, neither exceptionally good nor noticeably bad. He just existed.

He wouldn't describe himself as smart. He knew enough to get by, and knew enough to avoid failing classes, and to him that was fine. Although he wasn't charming, and frankly wouldn't be described as a joy to be around, he was satisfied enough with the way he is. For the most part, anyway.

Unlike Roman, Virgil's friend group was fairly small. For the most part, they tried to keep their heads down, and fortunately, none of them were too insistent on being noticed and included, at least not openly, and luckily for them, not many people knew or cared who they were.

But the athletic clique knew, and they cared, and boy did they just love picking on Virgil and his friends.

However, that wasn't the only reason Virgil didn't like Roman; he had a plethora of reasons. If asked, he could go off on a whole tangent about every different aspect he despised. Roman was always so smug and cocky; he thought he was better than everyone he met. He was a player; he would flirt with anyone who gave him attention.

Winks and kisses were handed out frequently, and attempting to recount every time Virgil had witnessed Roman bend over to kiss someone's hand romantically would give him a headache.

Thinking back on it, though, Virgil doesn't recall every hearing or seeing that Roman was in a relationship.

As the school bell rings, heavy chatter fills the hallways, which begin to flood with students as they rush to their lockers, desperate to leave the building and spend the rest of their days amongst each other, and discard any information that had been fed to them throughout the day. To most kids, this building was their penitentiary, and they spent all day miserably waiting to escape this hell.

A heavy slam near Virgil's locker makes him jump, before he turns to glare at a familiar grinning face. There was Remus, annoying as ever, eyes sparkling with sadistic intent.

"How've you been, freak?" Remus asks, voice mocking, causing Virgil to scowl.

"Same as always, dickbucket," Virgil hisses in reply, before slamming his locker shut. He adjusts his backpack strap on his shoulder, before turning to walk away from Remus, in hopes of avoiding confrontation.

However, Remus catches him by the back of his shirt and pulls the boy back, causing Virgil to let out a small gag, before shooting Remus a look of pure resentment.

"Awww, leaving so soon?" Remus coos. "Why not hang with us for a while?" The mention of an 'us' causes Virgil to nervously glance around, and eventually he notices some other jocks sauntering towards him, all of them wearing equally malicious grins.

Virgil inwardly groans. With a gulp, his eyes desperately dart around, searching for his two friends Janus and Logan. Janus wouldn't stand for this; surely he'd help Virgil out, but unfortunately he was nowhere in sight. Neither was Logan, adding to the anxiety knotting in Virgil's gut, although he wasn't entirely sure the noiret would be much help here.

"Hey, Virgil," one of Remus's friends says, snarkily. "How's it been living with no friends?"

A jab at his beloved bangs makes Virgil scowl, and he's quick to bite back "how's it been living with no dick?"

Virgil looks slightly panicked as the halls begin to clear out. Soon enough, he'd be alone with Remus and his lackeys, and Virgil knew the moment everyone was gone, Remus would probably beat his ass. He'd threatened it before as a way to scare Virgil, but the latter had no way of knowing if Remus would carry out his threats.

He tries to step to the side, hoping to avoid any further confrontation for now, but Remus's grip tightens on the back of his shirt, and two of Remus's other friends were blocking his way. Virgil's eyes dart around again, anxiety welling up inside of him. The hallways were getting emptier and emptier.

He gulps, as Remus suddenly lets go of his shirt, only to wrap his arm around Virgil's neck.

Virgil's backpack was pressed against Remus's chest, putting a small amount of distance between them, although the man's arm was still wrapped loosely around his throat. Any slight appliance of pressure from Remus would pull Virgil's breath right from him. 

"You talk a lot of smack for someone who can't even defend himself," Remus hisses, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. He applies the smallest amount of pressure, inner elbow crushing Virgil's throat, and he lets out a choked breath, nails coming up to scratch desperately at Remus's arm.

Virgil would kill for the ability to force himself out of Remus's grip, but it seemed his adrenaline was failing him, and he wasn't anywhere near as strong as Remus was.

"Hey," a silky voice suddenly calls, and Virgil was almost immediately released from Remus's grasp. He lets out a cough, as he turns to glare at the man who had just been holding him. Quickly approaching behind Remus was Remus's own twin brother, Roman, and he looked upset.

"What the hell were you doing?" Roman hisses, flicking Remus upside the head. Remus lets out a small grunt of pain, before glaring at Roman, raising his own hand to smack Roman upside the head in response, Roman huffing at the action.

"We were just joking around," Remus states, raising his hands defensively, although a wicked smile was still plastered to his voice.

"It wasn't a funny joke, you bitch," Virgil growls back, irascibly, causing Remus to turn and merely glare at him.

Roman sighs as he steps between the two, holding a hand out in front of each of them. "Both of you, knock it off," he instructs, and Virgil furrows his brows.

"You want me to knock it off?" he snaps, voice bitter. "I'm sorry that I'm angry that I was just put into a chokehold seconds ago by your idiot brother!" He flips Roman off, his other hand clenched so hard in a fist that his nails pierced his skin. "Fuck you, Roman. I hope you and Remus choke on dicks and die."

And with that, he turns and storms off, pushing past Remus's other two friends as he does so, ignoring the wave of uncomfortableness that washes over him when his shoulders hit theirs.

Remus bristles at Virgil's words. "What an ass--" he begins, only to quickly be interrupted by Roman huffing and waving a hand in his face.

"You say, like you didn't deserve what he just said," Roman cuts in.

Remus shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, shoulders coming up as Remus shrugs, looking annoyed by the scolding. "I was just messing around, Roman! Jeez!"

Roman's frown deepens. "Strangling someone isn't a joke, Remus. Get that through your head, or I'll get coach to kick you off the team."

Remus mumbles something under his breath, before calling his friends over and leaving with them. He knows his parents will hassle his ass if Roman gets him kicked off the varsity team. He didn't like sports, but it gave him a way to tackle people and not get arrested for it, and even he had to admit it was a good way for him to burn off energy.

Outside, on the walk home from school, Virgil texts Janus. He quickly asks where his friend is at, and if he could come stay at Janus's place tonight. His dad was away on a vacation, and believe it or not, Virgil didn't like being alone.

When Janus doesn't respond, Virgil lets out a groan, constantly pocketing his phone and pulling it out when he feels phantom vibrations. He knows Janus will answer his phone eventually, but Virgil was admittedly annoyed that he'd have to walk home for now only to walk over to Janus's later (if his request was approved), when he could just walk to Janus's place now and save himself the wasted time.

Especially because Janus lived quite a walk away from him. But, Virgil didn't want to be invasive, so he'd wait until Janus says it was okay to come over, as opposed to just showing up randomly. That'd be weird, especially if he got there and Janus didn't want to see him.

Oh God, what if Janus didn't even want to talk to him? What if that's why he's not answering his phone?

Virgil shakes his head as he continues walking down his street, simultaneously trying to brush away his anxiety and the creeping feeling of loneliness. He really didn't want to go home.

Drawing in a nervous breath, he pulls out his phone once more, sending a quick text to Logan asking if he could go over there. Logan lived on the next street over, in between Virgil and Janus's houses. Logan answers immediately (which makes sense, considering he always has his phone on hand so he can always stay up to date with any new political or historical news), and says that he can.

A small smile graces Virgil's lips. Logan would listen as Virgil ranted about his day, and while he probably wasn't the best at sympathizing with others, he'd at least be able to offer logistical solutions that would eventually help Virgil move past it.

Immediately crossing the street, Virgil turned down a side road and trudged along the sidewalk before walking down Logan's street to the man's house, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black jeans.

As he walks up to the door, he can hear loud talking from inside, muffled words just barely reaching Virgil's ears. He tries to listen for a second and catch wind of the situation, preparing to leave if it sounded particularly bad inside, but after a moment he hears something said in a much fonder tone. Somewhat assured, he knocks on the door, and a few minutes later a black-haired woman answers it, and peers down at him.

After staring for a few, she turns to look behind her, before calling out "Logan! Virgil's here." She then opens the door fully and lets Virgil inside, standing by him as Logan came down the stairs. He offers a nod towards Virgil and a quiet "thanks" to his mother before he waves Virgil back upstairs.

On the walk up, Virgil heard a playful shout of "Ant, there's hardly any way that'll work!" followed by masculine laughter. It was weird hearing Logan's parents so emotional, and he'd be more tempted to ask what good thing had happened today if his own day hadn't been so hectic.

Logan gently settles back onto his own bed, notebooks neatly spread out in front of him, before he gathers them up and sets them onto a nearby desk. He then turns to Virgil and pats the space next to him. Virgil shrugs his backpack off his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground with a heavy thump, before hopping back on Logan's bed and leaning back until his head lands against the black comforter.

From his position on the bed, he turns his head and allows his eyes to glance around Logan's room. He'd been in here many times, but Virgil still felt the need to look.

Logan's grey walls were mostly bare, aside from the occasional shelf or scientific poster. Virgil had coincidentally been with Logan when he purchased the giant poster of the periodic table, and had even helped him hang it over his desk.

He had commented at the time that it was dorky, but Logan smiled when he saw it, and so Virgil shut his mouth.

There were minimal photos of Logan's family around - only one specifically that Virgil could see without having to lift his head. It was of his parents, looking rather neutral, while they held a very smiley child between them.

Unable to help it, Virgil glances at Logan after looking at the picture, eyeing his friend's blank expression as he reads something on his phone, seemingly used to Virgil's routine by now.

Virgil turns away from him after a moment, continuing his scan of Logan's room. A few shelves lined the walls, occupied by geodes or models of different atoms. Generic science stuff, if Virgil had to describe it, but it seemed to fit.

However, Virgil's eyes always seemed to end up looking at Logan's nightstand, even though that involved him sitting up partially. Resting on it was a box, a black glasses case, and a framed photo. Unlike the basic black frames that the photos on Logan's walls had, this frame was silver with black touches, and had a sculpted rose in the top right corner. 

Inside the frame was a photo of Logan, Janus, and Virgil when they were kids. They were all smiling wide, while keeping some sort of hold on each other. Logan and Virgil's hands were clasped tightly together, Janus's arm was around Logan's shoulder whilst Logan's was around Janus's waist. They were pressed close together.

Virgil smiles at the photo.

Wordlessly, Logan's hands suddenly land on the box placed on his nightstand, and he pulls it over before placing it between him and Virgil. He opens it, and turns it around to face Virgil, revealing the inner contents that Virgil had seen many times before.

It was a box full of different coloured nail polishes, mostly in hues that ranged from black to purple. It had been a combined gift from both Janus and Virgil for Logan's birthday one year. He hardly ever used the polish on himself, but he enjoyed seizing the opportunity to paint the other's nails.

By turning the box towards him, Virgil knew by now that Logan was silently asking him to pick one. Virgil, obviously, picked the blackest one within the box.

Logan's not surprised, but he just hums and closes the box, setting it off to the side before taking the tube of nail polish from Virgil and opening it.

"So, what happened?" Logan asks, as he gently takes Virgil's hand into his. The brush slides over Virgil's thumb with practiced ease, painting the nail precisely and so confidently that he didn't worry about placing a paper towel on his bed. He hadn't had nail polish drip from his brush since he first started painting, and Virgil learned the hard way that he better not touch any of Logan's things with wet nail polish donning his fingers.

Virgil snorts at Logan's question, however, eyes training on each movement Logan's hand makes. "Why do you think something happened?" he asks, before he watches Logan's eyes flicker up and briefly meet his own.

Logan merely pushes up his glasses. "I'm taking an advanced placement psychology course, Virgil," he begins, and Virgil resists the urge to roll his eyes. "And even if I wasn't, you're not as hard to read as you like to believe. I can tell when something's wrong with you because of your mannerisms; ones I've learned to notice and be alerted by over the years.

"So by being your friend," Virgil begins, as Logan works his way over to Virgil's pinkie finger. "I've basically reduced my chances of hiding my feelings from you?" He asks the question semi-jokingly, and there's a playful smile on his lips as he says it.  

Much to his delight, Logan lets out a small laugh, before answering “I suppose.”

Once Logan finished painting his hand, Virgil brings it up to his face so he could study his now painted nails, before he offers his other hand to Logan. Logan takes it, and gets to work painting that one too.

"Remus is just a dick," Virgil states with a small laugh. "And his lackeys. They’re insufferable."

Logan groans - perhaps the most expressive he would get tonight - before he responds with “Believe me, I know. He knocked my books out of my arms recently and proceeded to step on some important papers, so I threw a brick through his car window."

Virgil suddenly chokes on the spit in his mouth. "You what?" His eyes are wide as he stares at Logan, who looks just as he sounds: dead serious.

"I threw a brick through his car window," Logan says again, raising an eyebrow. With a grin, Virgil makes a mental note to be careful when teasing his friend.

Logan finishes up Virgil’s hand, before proceeding to inspect it and make sure everything was done well. After a moment, he looks pleased, and he twists the cap back onto the tube of polish, before putting it back in the box.

"Thanks Logan,” Virgil says, as he turns his hand in order to look over the black gloss painted over his nails. “These look perfect.”

Logan merely scoffs playfully, responding "they are perfect."

Virgil lets out a soft laugh, as Logan places the box of nail polish back on his nightstand. He very carefully adjusts it so that it’s positioned in the corner, edges lined up with the edges of the nightstand. He turns back to Virgil afterwards, and his mouth opens to say something, before Virgil’s phone rings.

Virgil gives a helpless snicker as he stands up, careful not to touch anything. "Can you grab my phone and answer it for me?" he asks, and Logan shrugs. He does as Virgil asks and grabs it from his back pocket, before answering and putting it on speaker, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Hello?" the noiret says, as Virgil sits back down next to him.

"Logan? Why do you have Virgil’s phone?"

Virgil rolls his eyes as Janus’s voice spills from the speaker. "He just finished painting my nails and they aren't dry yet,” he explains, as Logan grabs his hands and double checks that Virgil hadn’t accidentally bumped them against anything.

"Ah," Janus replies with a laugh. "I understand now. Anyway, Virgil, my dad said you could come over and spend the night. Logan, you can come too if you want."

"Sure,” Logan says, with a shrug. It’s not like he had anything going on anyway. "Let me just pack a bag." He slides off his bed and grabs his backpack from where it’s propped against his desk, before he sets it on the bed.

Janus hums on the other end. "Okay. I assume you guys are gonna head over once Logan’s finished?"

"Probably," Virgil responds, as he watches Logan swiftly unpack the school supplies in his bag and organize them neatly on his desk. He then moves to his dresser and grabs a pair of overnight pajamas and casual clothes for the next morning. "See you soon."

"Okay, bye."

Janus ends the call, and Virgil glances towards Logan, who had entered his conjoined bathroom and was grabbing his toothbrush, extra toothpaste, deodorant, and other hygienic items despite the fact they both knew Janus had a surplus amount of self-care related items that he… obtained (through less than ethical means).

"I doubt you’re going to need all of that stuff, L."

“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Logan replies, curtly. “Besides, I’m free all week, aside from school. I might just ask to stay over there since I have nothing else to do. I think I might have left some clothes over there anyway.”

He zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder, before turning to look at Virgil, silently letting him know he was done.

Virgil nods, and grabs his own bag, before flicking Logan’s light off. With one last parting glance towards the framed photo, he accompanies Logan downstairs.

Logan had already found his mom and was informing her that they were leaving, although she looked fairly uninterested.

“Don’t get in legal trouble,” she says, and Virgil doesn’t know if she’s joking or not. “Legal issues within the family damage the reputation of your father’s firm."

"Yes, mom, I assumed," Logan replies, with the same serious tone of voice and look on his face.

She stares at him for a moment, before nodding, and turning and walking off, presumably back to her room.

Logan then turns back to Virgil and then heads towards the front door, rightfully expecting Virgil to follow him. The conversation from earlier had died down completely, and now it was weirdly silent as Virgil’s heavy footsteps resonated throughout the living room.

As he shut the door behind him, the noise of it clicking shut sounded way too loud, and a weird sense of premonition washed over him. He draws in a deep breath, assuming it’s just a random bout of anxiety, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong today. 

Chapter Text

On the way to Janus's house, neither of them care much about the routine and respectful way to walk through streets. Why waste time looping around the neighbourhood when instead they could hop fences and cut through yards? Even Logan didn't object to the idea considering he was a well respected kid and most adults wouldn't question the decisions he made.

Even if it resulted in damaged personal property. Though, that hardly ever happened, and Logan often offered to fix whatever was broken with his own money in the unlikely event he and Virgil did manage to damage something.

Unless it was Remus's car, but Remus was a rich kid, and he could afford to fix it himself.

Upon arriving, the two walk up the porch steps and Logan walks rhythmically on the door. Moments later, a man with a cane answers, awkwardly greeting the two kids, before he steps out of their way and allows them to come inside. He himself limps back to the living room where a thin woman sits on the couch, while Virgil and Logan make their way down the hall to Janus's room.

Virgil knocks on the door this time, jokingly calling out "Janus? I'm both respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your best friend by coming in anyway." Logan looks unamused, but his hand comes up to his mouth to hide a supposed smile while Virgil twists the knob and enters uninvited. 

Janus was sitting criss-cross on his bed, pants in one hand and sewing needle in the other. He cuts and adjusts the seams of his trousers, hoping to fit them himself. Downside of being short and thin; at the very least he was thankful he knew how to tailor his own clothes.

He glances up at Virgil and Logan as they walk in, before carefully setting his materials on his otherwise unoccupied nightstand, void of any personal artifacts just like the rest of his room was.

He brushes his long blonde strands out of his face, before his hands reach back as he puts his hair up into a bun, showing off the scarred half of his face. "Hey," he greets, hands settling behind him to hold him steady as he leans back to stare at the two of them, evaluating them with his eyes in the same initially untrusting way he scanned over everyone. He smiles afterwards though, small but pleased, and it eases Virgil immediately. 

"Hey," he responds, grinning happily.

Logan follows him into the room and gently sets his bag at the end of Janus's bed, while Virgil just throws his there, not really caring about the things inside. He knew everything was packed up properly; no risk of wrinkles or rips in his work was enough to assure him (although he'd probably still check everything tomorrow morning). 

While Logan settles himself on the corner of Janus's bed, Janus himself asks "why'd you want to come over?" He doesn't sound upset, just curious, and his head tilts to the side as he watches Virgil shrug off his jacket before crawling onto the bed beside Logan, sitting with one knee against his chest and the other leg stretched out.

"My dad's on vacation and I didn't want to stay home alone," Virgil answers bluntly, hand coming up to chew on his nail, despite the quick protest he gets from Logan about his fresh nail polish.

Janus, on the other hand snickers, before whispering "pussy." It's teasing, but it causes Virgil to narrow his eyes at him, nose scrunched up in a mock pout.

"I am not a pussy."

Janus gives an innocent smile, leaving forward to rest his cheek against his fist. "Sure you aren't, Virgil. You're just scared of the monster in your closet, and since daddy won't be around to protect you-"

"Hold on, I'm cutting you off there," Virgil interrupts, face twisted in disgust. "Please don't ever say 'daddy' again. It makes me think of sex, thanks to certain social stigma, and I'd rather not think about that while hanging out with you guys."

"Oh? You don't like it when I say daddy? But daddy! It's one of my favourite words, daddy!" Janus says, tone high pitched and mocking, as he moves closer to Virgil on the bed. While the sexualization of the word was admittedly sad and somewhat disgusting, torturing Virgil was enough to brighten Janus's otherwise boring day.

Virgil shoves him when he gets too close, hissing out "Janus, I will literally cut out your tongue if you don't shut the hell up. I'm serious!"  

"That'd be a lot of blood to clean up," Logan says, as he watches the two of them with amused eyes. "Depending on how skilled you are, there's a chance it'd also be easily traced back to you."

"You're right, Logan. I'll poison him instead," Virgil jokes, and this time Logan snickers, hand once again coming to his mouth to hide the action, despite the fact it was painfully obvious when staring at his eyes and the way his proper posture was momentarily compromised, Logan leaning over to laugh for just a few select seconds, before straightening himself up once again.

Janus laughs too, stating "If I'm found murdered randomly one morning, I hope they consider you two as suspects."

"That's only if Logan lives long enough to be considered a suspect," Virgil replies, tapping his fingers together in a menacing way, although his face showed off the fact he was joking. However, Logan looked confused.

"Why wouldn't I? I'm extremely healthy," the noiret says, and Janus and Virgil exchange a look before laughing together, musing at their intelligent friend's obliviousness, an amusing oxymoron.

For a couple hours, they continue joking, talk about school a bit, and Logan eventually coaxes Janus into letting him redo the man's nail polish (having stocked some in his bag just in case the sleepover came to a lull and he needed something tedious and easy to do).

Similarly to Virgil, Janus picks black nail polish, although he makes his middle fingers yellow, just to add some quote unquote "flair."

Virgil whistles, two fingers in his mouth as he makes the jokingly flirty noise. "Damn, Janus. You'll make boys go crazy looking like that," he jokes, and Janus rolls his eyes as he pulls out his phone. He was going to mindlessly scroll for a bit while he let his nails dry, as he could use the pad of his fingers and avoid the risk of potentially messing up his nails, but then his eyes caught the time.

"Huh," Janus begins, the noise sounding like a laugh of disbelief. That, or one of amusement. "It's one in the morning," he then clarifies, and Virgil's eyes widen. He and Logan had arrived sometime in the early evening; there was no way it was already one! Logan, on the other hand, frowns.

"You're going to ruin my sleep schedule," Logan complains, as his knuckles slide under his glasses so that he can rub his eyes. Out of the three of them, he definitely appeared to be the most physically exhausted, but that didn't come as much of a surprise. The other two knew Logan had a routine, and if he wasn't so sleepy, they were sure Logan would feel a lot worse about the fact he wasn't asleep by now.

Knowing that Logan was too sleepy to be upset as of now though, Janus rolls his eyes, and sets a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My condolences," he says, sarcastically, mock sympathy seeping through his voice, and Logan just huffs as he shrugs Janus's hand away.

He wipes the spot where he was touched, as if cleaning away germs, before looking up as Virgil utters "damn." He laughs afterwards, as he adds "I'm not even tired." 

"I am," Logan says with a sigh. "You two are horrible influences." 

"Well, since none of us can sleep," Janus begins, clapping his hands excitedly. Logan cuts him off quickly, saying "I can sleep-" but Janus just presses his hand over Logan's mouth momentarily. Logan shies away from the touch, before glancing away from Janus entirely, hands falling into his lap as his hands begin to fidget.

Janus hops off his bed, as he corrects himself, stating "since none of us are going to sleep, how about we go on a walk?" He didn't normally like going out, especially not at night, and Logan went to bring this up before Janus reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

Logan sighs while Virgil just narrows his eyes at the sight of them. Well, that explained it, and neither of them were really going to stop him, so they might as well go out, as to prevent Janus from smoking within the enclosed space. 

"To where?" Virgil asks, as he stands up as well. His legs hurt from sitting in the same position for so long, so a walk would be nice regardless.

Tucking his pack of cigs into his back pocket, Janus grabs Virgil's hoodie from the ground and tosses it to him, before he turns to Logan. "You need a jacket? I was thinking we could walk to the park."

"None of your clothes will fit me," Logan states, curtly, but he does stand up and smooth out his clothes after a moment. "I do appreciate the sentiment, however. And a walk to the park is bound to be nice, even if I'd personally rather sleep."

"That's the spirit," Janus muses, as he grabs a black overcoat from his closet. It looks vintage, as if thrifted, or at the very least a hand-me-down. "We can just go hang out a bit," Janus proposes, before his eyes dart towards Logan, settling over his features for a moment, before he looks away as soon as Logan looks up. The action is fast, but Virgil catches it, and grins as Janus adds "maybe even watch the stars or something."

"Janus, that's both cliché and very gay," Virgil teased, as he brushes his purple bangs back with his hands. He zips his hoodie up afterwards, double checking to make sure he has his phone, before shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Janus merely chuckles. "That's my motto. Come on, let's go." He grabs Logan's hand and opens his door, flicking off his lights before motioning to the two of them to be quiet. He grabs his house key and stuffs it into his back pocket, before pulling Logan through the house, Virgil following close behind. They stay as quiet as they can, before finally stepping outside, the cold night air chilling the three of them immediately.

Janus locks the door behind him before he lets out a mock sigh of relief, laughing afterwards.

Shivers went up Logan's arms, before Janus released his hand. A part of him wishes he accepted the offer of a jacket from Janus, even though he knew they wouldn't have covered him completely. It'd be better than just the tee-shirt he was in, but it was too late now, so he'd deal with it.

With a few jabs towards each other, they head to the park, speaking amongst each other the entire way. It was weirdly serene; cicadas chirping provided pleasant white noise and the sky was clear, the moon illuminating the sidewalk as they leisurely moved towards the park. The street lights flickered every now and again, but really only Virgil noticed, and before he could voice his observations, he was distracted by the other two.

The three of them couldn't help glancing up at the sky every few seconds, attempting to drink in the sight of the stars glimmering overhead.

They reach the park in a matter of minutes, and observe how it was basked in darkness; the moon being the only source of light. Colours were obscured, everything looking like shades of grey, with shadows that stretched out to the edge of the grass.

Virgil lets out a sigh. He loves the dark; it was so beautiful, especially when he wasn't alone in it. It emitted a sense of tranquility inside of him. That's why he always kept the lights in his room off and the curtains drawn, aside from the LED lights that were strung up to prevent him from completely having to face the unknown.

He and Logan head towards the swings, whilst Janus takes a seat on a nearby bench, clearly able to see them from his position. He pulls his pack from his pocket and hits it against the palm of his hand a few times, before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. He stretches out on the bench, taking up the length as he lays back, staring up at the sky.

While Virgil kicks his feet into the ground to lightly rock his swing back and forth, Logan appears to be mimicking Janus; his head turned upwards, just staring. 

They stay like that for a while, relishing in each other's company and the gaze of the moon. And they were content like that. Everything was good. 

Until Virgil hears laughing in the distance. He turns to look towards the sound of the noise, and could faintly make out a small group of people.

As they move closer, Virgil is easily able to recognize who they were, and he grits his teeth as his heart jumps in his chest. Those varsity jackets were unmistakable.

He hops off his swing, and Logan does too just as tense as Virgil is. Janus sits up, straightening his body as he glares at the group, before he makes a motion with his head and Virgil and Logan move towards him, none of them wanting to be caught alone by any of the approaching jocks.

As the group moves closer, the trio could see it was Remus, Roman, and some upperclassmen that Virgil didn't recognize. One is smoking, while the other is chatting with him and Roman. The three of them veer off and head towards the monkey bars, where Roman quickly scales the sides just so he could sit up top and kick his legs back and forth, while Remus and the third upperclassman stay back.

Remus talks with the person for a bit, but as they near the gate, he seems to spot the trio near the bench. He grins, a malicious sparkle in his eyes, as he approaches the three of them, the upperclassman trailing close behind, the same wicked smile present on their face too.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite circus of freaks!" Remus exclaims, as his hands come to rest on his hips. He cackles afterwards, as if he believes he's the funniest man in the world. Virgil glares at him, hands balling into fists as he prepares himself for a potential confrontation, while Logan merely frowns.

"And if it isn't Roman's shadow," Janus responds, flashing Remus a pretty smile, batting his eyes, clearly unfazed by his presence.

Remus's smile falls the moment Janus opens his mouth, instead replaced by a scowl. "I'm not a shadow." He was the leader of his own posse, he has his own friends, he has his own life. He wasn't in Roman's shadow, he wasn't Romans shadow!

"Really? That grotesque mask you wear seems to say otherwise," Janus states, taking a long drag of his cigarette, before he lets out a mock gasp. "Oh wait, is that just your face? My bad."

"Janus, you better shut the hell up or I'll-"

Janus raises his hand to cut the man off. "You'll what? Insult me more? Wow, Remus. I'm shaking in fear. Now get lost."

Remus stammers over his words, stunned into momentary silence, before he groans and turns away, stomping over to the monkey bars. They watch as Remus's arms flail about, before Roman and the upperclassmen start laughing. The trio could assume that he was ranting to them about the way his ex-friend just went for his throat, and Janus stares with narrow eyes, watching them as he takes another, long drag from the butt of his cig.

And their assumption was correct. Remus was ranting about what had just happened, and Roman was teasing him for it.

"That's what happens when you bully people," Roman lectures, whilst grinning. Remus's frown deepened.

"I wasn't bullying them; I was being honest. There's a clear difference," he retorts, adjusting his tattered jacket.

"There is," Roman confirms. "You just don't seem to know it. Guess you need glasses because it's a little blurry for you."

Remus bristles, face twisting up into an almost unhinged smile, as he growls out "Roman, I will pull your ass off those bars and make sure you hit the ground so hard your legs will break."

Roman snickers, wiping away a fake tear, as some of the other upperclassmen chuckle along. "Sure you will, bro," Roman replies, leaning forward where he sits, resting his cheek against his fist as he grins down at him, sticking his tongue out as if tempting him. 

"Hey," one of the upperclassmen suddenly pipes up, sensing the tension and wanting to diffuse it." Do you guys wanna play a game?"

The other four men turn to look at him, slightly intrigued by the sudden proposition of a game. All of them are pretty physical people; they don't play contact sports for nothing, and they all glance towards each other, a competitive spirit bubbling within them immediately.

"What game?" another upperclassmen, the one with the cigarette, asks.

"Oreo," the first one says. "I assume you all know how to play." He opens his eyes wider, looking around to all of them as if making sure they were all aware of the rules. When he sees the others nod, he smiles. Motioning towards the trio on the bench, he adds "since we have those three over there, it'd make it more upsetting when you lose." 

"Like any of them will say yes to us," Remus sneers, as he crosses his hands over his chest. There’s a pause, before he lets out a dramatic huff. "But, whatever. I'll play, but it’s just to watch you guys suffer when asking them out."

Roman hops down from the top of the monkey bars, giving Remus a cocky grin. "Watch us suffer? Dude, I can't wait to hear you whine when you lose."

"Lose?" Remus repeats, with a laugh. "Didn't know you had jokes, Ro. Play me." 

Roman grins, laying his palm flat, and setting his closed fist atop it. He looks just as smug as Remus does, clearly both of them overly confident that they’ll beat their twin. It was just a simple game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; they both had equal odds of winning. It was a game of chance.

Intense stares are exchanged, before they both go “rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” and throw out their hands; Remus with paper, and Roman with rock. Roman groans.

"Ha!" Remus exclaims, causing the trio to glance over at them nervously, before suddenly going back to talking amongst each other. The jocks were honestly quite grateful they hadn’t left yet, seeing as it’d make for good entertainment for the night.

"I win," Remus boasts, hands coming to rest proudly on his hips. "And now you have to ask out..." He looks behind him at the band of freaks, before grinning as his eyes settle on one. "Virgil."

Roman groans again, hands coming up to hide his face. "Really, Remus?” Upon receiving a smug nod, Roman sighs. “Alright, but we both know he’ll say no. He hates my guts."

After being hassled by the upperclassman, Roman finally ambles up to the bench, hands shoved into his pockets. He’s in no hurry to get over there, but he wears a genuine smile on his face.

The other three don’t look nearly as happy to see him.

"What the hell do you want?" Virgil asks, eyes narrow as he quickly scans over Roman’s body, taking in the way he was walking, and gaining a read on his tone. Roman didn’t look threatening, aside from his physical build, and it subconsciously relaxes him a bit, although he sits up straight as Roman moves closer, body squared.

"Well, Virgil," Roman begins, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. If anything, he seems awkward, although he speaks with nothing but confidence. "I lost an Oreo." 

"You..." Virgil pauses for a moment, before his face flushes with embarrassment. In his peripheral vision, he can see both Janus and Logan move closer, both of them equally tense.

But Virgil doesn’t focus on that, his mind racing with a million other questions. Who did Roman lose to? And was Virgil really so bad that he would be picked as the loser's target?

He stammers over his words for a moment, before going "and- and you have to ask me? Fucking perfect..." He letS out a sigh, hands rubbing against his legs as he stims, desperately trying to work out all of the negative energy bubbling up inside of him, all while Roman looks at him expectantly.

Janus and Logan have already turned back to their own beings, Logan’s head tilted up at the stars and Janus looking at Logan while he smokes, both of them confident that they know what Virgil’s answer will be, so there’s little need to worry.

Or is there?

Deciding he’s done with this bullshit, he impulsively exclaims "you know what? Yes.” He watches the way Roman’s eyes go wide at his answer, and he himself feels like he might be sick, stomach welling up with anxiety and nausea.

Still, he continues, stating “now go back to your circle of lackeys, Roman. Janus, Logan, we're leaving." His words are rushing out of his mouth, face bright red. Janus’s mouth was agape and Logan appears to be frozen, and for a moment they’re still as Virgil stands up. He’s overwhelmed by his own thoughts, and he needs to leave.

Without another word, he turns to scurry out of the park, footsteps heavy as he doesn’t bother looking back to make sure his friends are behind him. He can’t risk looking back and seeing Roman; he just needs to get out of there.

Why the hell did he say yes?! Maybe he figured he could get back at Roman like this. The man had always been such a teasing prick; perhaps Virgil thought that by forcing him to practically be his "boyfriend" that he could force the man to suffer.

Because who would want to date him? That’s why he was asked, wasn’t it? Because the idea of him with a romantic partner was so utterly absurd, that it deserved to be mocked-

Footsteps behind him cause him to tense, before he hears “can I touch you?” spoken softly behind him. He manages to mutter out a “yeah,” and it results in him being pulled in for a hug, strong hands wrapping fully around him. He’s squeezed, and he sighs as the pressure grounds him.

“You’re here,” he hears Logan say. “You’re right here. I’m here, and Janus is here too. Breathe, Virgil. Breathe in for three seconds.” Virgil listens to him, hands curled tight in Logan’s shirt as he buries his face in Logan’s shoulder. “Good,” Logan continues, voice gentle. “Okay, now hold for four.” Again, Virgil listens. “Now out for five.”

Logan repeats the process for a few more rounds, before finally Virgil pulls away, and Logan lets him.

“You okay?” Janus asks, awkwardly setting a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil nods, as he pulls his jacket tighter around his body.

“Yeah, I guess I’m okay,” he replies, although the situation he has gotten himself into was definitely not okay, and tomorrow he’d be forced to face the consequences of his choice. But tomorrow hasn’t come yet; he was here, and right now he was walking home with his friends. 

Logan stood on one side of him, while Janus walked the curb, eyes cast dowards as he attempted to stay balanced. It’s quiet for a bit, before Logan goes “do you want to hear why the three, four, five method is so effective?”

While Logan takes the time to explain that to his friends, Roman’s left at the park, standing dumbfounded in front of the bench as he merely stares. He doesn’t know how to react, so instead, he just turns and walks back to his group.

"Why'd they leave all of a sudden," one of the upperclassmen asks, and Roman shrugs, not able to provide him with an answer. He glances behind him at the empty bench, before sighing.

"Roman probably scared them all away," Remus teasing, before immediately going “so… did he say no?” He figures he already knows the answer, but much to his surprise, Roman shakes his head, and Remus’s smile falls.

He lets out a small laugh of disbelief, before it turns to full on cackling that he doesn’t even bother to hide. "He said-" Remus chokes on his words, excitedly letting out another laugh. "He said yes?!"

"Yeah, but he seemed really upset while saying it," Roman answers, followed by a small laugh of his own. It was forced, but he didn't want to seem shocked by the answer, even though he was honestly shocked. Virgil hates him, and he expresses it freely. Roman genuinely couldn’t come up with a reason why - given the circumstances and his prior feelings - Virgil would say yes.

"Why the hell did you say yes?" Janus finally blurts out, right as they reach the front door.

Virgil throws his hands up in the air in response, before they fall to his face. "I don't know!" he exclaims. “I wanted to say no!”

"You should have,” Janus replies, as he unlocks the door and opens it slowly, shushing both of them before he motions for them to come inside. As the door clicks shut behind him, he stalks after them, quietly adding “but, now you're stuck with him. At least, until you see him again. Then you can break up with him."

“Unless you actually experience romantic feelings for him,” Logan points out. “If that’s the case, I personally will support you wholeheartedly, although having witnessed the things you’ve expressed towards him, I’d definitely have some questions.”

"I hate him, Logan," Virgil hisses, sounding quite defensive. "He's an egotistical hot-shot, a suck-up, and just... just.... horrible!"

Janus snickers under his breath, before going "keep your voice down, Virge; you'll wake up the whole neighbourhood if you continue throwing this little tantrum.” 

“No he won’t,” Logan responds, raising an eyebrow as they all crowd into Janus’s room. Janus himself immediately tugs his hair tie out, shaking his head in order to let his now-crimped hair fall down to his middle back, before he falls back onto his bed. Logan continues, saying “It’s basically impossible for anybody outside of this house to hear Virgil with the tone he’s currently speaking at. Maybe if he were louder…”

“It was an expression, L,” Virgil says, before muttering curses as he falls to his knees on Janus’s floor. He flops onto his stomachs moments later, face buried in the uncomfortable carpet. None of them flicked the light on, all simultaneously agreeing that it was time to get some rest.

"Are you okay?" Logan asks him, as he moves to stand by the edge of Janus’s bed, hand resting atop the mattress as he prepares to climb onto it.

"I'm fine," Virgil replies, his voice muffled.

"Do you want to come sleep on the bed?" Janus offers, outstretching an arm. "You know it'll fit all three of us, even if it’s a little cramped.”

Virgil lets out a grunt, instead just curling up in the fetal position. “I’d rather sleep alone tonight.” While he normally enjoyed the platonically loving assurance that came with sleepy cuddles, the idea of being touched at all right now makes him feel bad.

"Hah! Inferior," Janus teases him, as he sits up. He grabs a pillow and a thin blanket from his bed, before tossing them to Virgil. He then grabs Logan’s wrist and pulls him onto the bed, Logan letting out a startled gasp. Janus immediately covers his mouth and shushes him, despite the fact he was laughing.

After shooting Janus a quick glare, he’s quick to adjust his position in order for Janus to get underneath the comforter, and he allows himself to slide under there afterwards. Janus immediately leans into Logan’s arms, and familiar with the action, Logan pulls him closer. He knew Janus had internal issues with producing his own body heat, so more often than not, he and Virgil offered to cuddle in order to provide him with external heat that would hopefully heat his body up. It’s also why despite having so little in his room, the one thing Janus did own and love was a weighted blanket that he used almost all the time.

Virgil watches the blankets on the bed move around, before he adjusts his own pillow. He pulls the blanket up over his face afterwards, before he lets out a sigh. Stomach twisting, he closes his eyes, and tries desperately to coax his mind into silence. It takes a bit, but eventually he manages to fall asleep. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Virgil is shaken awake by Janus. 

"Finally!" the boy groans, before letting go of him, Virgil falling limply back onto the pallet beneath him. "I've been trying to wake you up for, like, five minutes! Hurry up and get dressed, we’ve got to go!" 

"I didn't bring any clothes," Virgil replies, groggily, as he lets out a yawn. Hesitating, he momentarily debates whether or not school is worth the extra hours of sleep, before sighing as he pushes himself up. If he tried to stay wrapped within the blankets, Janus would physically pull him out of it.

He groans as he sits up, before pushing himself to a sitting position. He then proceeds to pick up Janus’s pillows and blankets, tossing them back onto his friend's bed. 

Janus looks at him, disappointed. "I'll lend you a hoodie to wear. It's a bit chilly outside today. Logan’s in the bathroom; go borrow a comb from him, and your toothbrush is under the sink where it always is."

"Thanks.”  Begrudgingly, Virgil begins his trek to the bathroom, thankful that Janus’s parents had decided he was over often enough to get him his own personal toothbrush. Especially considering how many times Virgil forgot his - despite being extra confident he’d checked multiple times to see if he’d packed it. 

Virgil knocks on the bathroom door, and it opens moments later, Logan on the other side. He wordlessly hands Virgil a comb, and squeezing in next to him, Virgil lazily runs it through his hair. His toothbrush comes next, as he grabs it from under the sink and then is handed toothpaste.  After finishing his personal hygiene, he walks back into Janus’s room, where said boy immediately tosses him a black hoodie. It was worn, faded, and one of the  plastic lapels had been torn, but it worked. 

As he goes to grab his bag, he notices Logan’s duffel still on the bedroom floor, not having been grabbed despite the fact he knows Logan likes to bring his bags down to the front door if he planned on leaving, that way he could just grab-and-go. 

So, he plans on coming back to Janus’s after school. 

He should have figured. 

Virgil feels a cold waft of jealousy wash over him, and he decides he doesn’t like it at all. They weren’t excluding him; he hung out with them individually sometimes too! He was being irrational. 

Shaking his head slightly, he slings his bag over his shoulder as he meets Janus and Logan by the front door, both of them ready to go. 

As soon as they caught sight of him they were out the door. Virgil  follows behind them. They walk side by side to the school, talking about trivial things such as were there any tests they had forgotten about, or homework they didn't get done. Virgil pipes up every here and there, but mostly decides to stay quiet. It’s not like there was much weight to the conversation they were having anyway.

They walk into the building, giving each other small waves goodbye, before they all head in separate directions. Due to their last names being spread out alphabetically, their lockers were in different sections of the school, meaning their daily split up was always inevitable.

As Virgil makes his way to his locker, groups passing within the hallway stop to stare at him, before turning to each other and whispering. Feeling a knot of anxiety well up in him, Virgil tries to keep his head lowered and ignore it. Reminding himself to breathe, he turns to avoid bumping into others’ shoulders, before stopping at his locker. 

He tries to tell himself he’s just being paranoid, but there’s a clique of girls leaning nearby. As he glances over at them, they quickly look away, turning to huddle and cup their hands to their mouths to talk in hushed voices. All except some brunette.

She scans him up and down. 

"Is it true Roman’s dating... you ?" she asks, sounding partially disgusted and partially like she couldn't believe it was true. Virgil’s eyes widen. He’d forgotten about that!

Last night had somehow completely managed to slip his mind; being rushed out the door this morning, he was never given time to process the actual events of last night. Suddenly being reminded causes him to turn red with both shame and humiliation, realizing why it seemed that everyone had been looking at him this morning. It was because they had been.

Virgil stammers over an answer, not wanting to admit that he and Roman were “dating,” nor wanting to explain why. With each second he doesn’t answer, the girl in front of him grows increasingly annoyed.

"Yes? No? Answer me you ditz," she hisses, only to then immediately tense up and put on a pretty smile. Virgil himself goes stiff as he feels an arm wrap around his shoulders, before he glances up and sees Roman standing there. He wore a charming smile. 

"Yes, he is," Roman replies, answering for Virgil. He sounds almost… proud. Virgil shakes it off, figuring he must just be misinterpreting Roman’s tone. “What’s it to you, Karin?” His words are biting, despite the light tone he keeps, and Virgil almost feels bad for the girl. 

She seems startled by his words, and immediately ushers out her version of an apology. “Nothing, Roman!” She flashes a small smile, a lot nicer than the scowl she had offered Virgil. “Everyone around school has just been wondering. You see, he-” she growls at the word, looking at Virgil as if he’s scum, before returning her gaze to Roman, “-doesn’t really seem…. Your type?” Despite how “polite” she’d attempted to word her sentence, the implications were clear, and Virgil decides he doesn’t much like being talked about like an object, especially when it was happening right in front of him. 

However, Roman’s response is immediate. "And you know my type?" 

Karin is caught off guard, stuttering "well, no , but none of us thought you'd be into guys ."

At this, Virgil can feel Roman tense, hand tightening on his shoulder. Virgil tries to make himself appear smaller at the action, not enjoying this hostile aura radiating off of Roman at all. "Well, I am," Roman replies, smile faltering, being replaced with hard eyes. “Now leave us alone, and get going.”

She stands there for a moment, gaping, before huffing and walking away, her friends following behind her. Some of them run up to her side, and Virgil watches her hands move wildly, no doubt giving her account regarding the interaction that just occurred.

Virgil watches them leave, before shrugging Roman’s arm off his shoulders. Not wanting to even look at Roman right now, he opts instead to open his locker, completely ignoring the man behind him. 

Roman watches him as he does so, an amused glint in his eyes. “What?” he asks, tone teasing. “No ‘thank you?’” 

Virgil scoffs, as he grabs some folders stuffed with papers, and a few notebooks from his locker. He tucks them under his arm. “No. Why should I thank you? You didn’t do shit.” His tone is biting, as he slams his locker shut, keeping his back to Roman. 

"But… Karin-?-" Roman begins, only for Virgil to immediately cut him off. 

"Karin’s a teenage mean girl who enjoys making fun of people in an attempt to fill the empty void where her heart should be," Virgil spits, turning around in order to glare at Roman. His hands are curled into fists at his sides, and his shoulders are squared, as if he’s about to lunge at him. "So thanks, Roman. You warded off some bitch . Real hero ." 

He then moves to stomp away, leaving Roman standing there, shocked. Had he said something wrong? Or was Virgil just mad at him for no reason like he always was? In Roman’s opinion, it was tough to decipher, but Virgil had left before Roman could ask for clarification. How was he supposed to communicate if Virgil won’t offer him the time necessary to do so? 

Sighing, Roman makes an attempt to shrug it off. He’d see Virgil throughout the day anyway; he could ask about it then. 

The best chance arrives during their lunch hour, when everyone gathers in the cafeteria. Momentarily, Roman decides on bringing Virgil over to sit with him and his buddies, before remembering that Virgil despises Remus. With a small laugh at the situation, he chooses to sit with Virgil and his friends instead. He hopes Virgil won’t mind. He did bring this upon himself, after all.

Similarly to Virgil, as Roman makes his way to the cafeteria, people stare as he passes. He doesn’t mind; he was used to it, but for once he knows they’re not staring just because he’s pretty or popular. They were staring at him because he was dating someone - somebody everyone considered to be a social outcast. 

Roman ignores that. Virgil had said yes, and Roman wanted to honor that. Most of the kids at this school would be absolutely horrid to their new partners in hopes of trying to get them to break it off, and most of the time it worked. Roman didn’t like that, though. To him, it always seemed like they were using it as an excuse to hurt others. 

So, Roman would treat Virgil like he would any other romantic partner, and then he’d talk to him about this. If Virgil had said yes just to change the status quo, he’d probably want to dump Roman anyway. But if Virgil had said yes because of repressed feelings, Roman wanted to let him off easy, and explain he didn’t reciprocate said feelings. 

He doesn’t want Virgil to be stuck in a relationship where the other partner didn’t really love him, fake relationship or otherwise. 

Within the lunch room, Logan’s already seated at their table, and Virgil and Janus walk in together, Janus holding a paper sack, while Virgil’s hands remain empty.

"So," Janus sings, mischievously. "How's your first official day having a boyfriend going?" 

"Horrible," Virgil answers, immediately. His fingers tap against his thigh, as his eyes dart around the room. “People keep staring at me and whispering.” His other arm wraps around his stomach, brows furrowing as he catches a group doing exactly what he had just said. Upon noticing his gaze, they laugh and turn away. Scowling, Virgil adds “some have even mocked me.” 

Janus’s playful smile immediately falls, sighing out “that’s horrible. I’m sorry people suck.” 

"It's fine.” Virgil shrugs, moving out of the way as more people walk into the lunchroom. “It's not your fault. Unless you told people.” Virgil’s tone is playfully accusatory, as he nudges Janus in the side, causing the latter to quickly put his hands up in defense. 

"No! I didn't tell anybody. And you know Logan wouldn't either," Janus responds, before snorting. “You’re just letting the whispers get to you. If anyone told, it was probably Remus.” Their eyes both drift to the man, who’s sitting with the rest of his friends, balancing a milk carton on his nose. They’re silent for a moment, before Janus turns to Virgil, serious. “If ‘dating’ Roman is stressing you out so much… why don’t you just break up with him? It’s not like you actually like him.” 

Virgil sighs, groaning out “fair point,” before they begin to move towards their lunch table. “But, I want to make this hell for him. After all, he’s made school hell for me.” 

"What has he done?" 

"Well... he's... he's Remus’s twin, and Remus constantly picks on me, and you, and Logan," Virgil says, with a shrug. 

Janus holds back a scoff of his own. “That’s not a real reason to hate someone,” he states, adding “he couldn’t just choose not to be related to Remus. That’s not how biology works.” Janus suddenly stops, halting his walk towards their table, as a playful grin crosses his face instead. He grabs Virgil’s wrist, and points towards their lunch table once he has Virgil’s attention. " Especially when that person is willing to give up their friends to be with you." 

Virgil follows Janus’s finger to their lunch table, and freezes as he sees Roman sitting there, eating lunch with Logan. They’re engaged in a conversation, but at some point Logan’s eyes drift away, and land on Janus and Virgil, brightening almost immediately. He offers them a wave, and Roman looks to see who he’s waving at, before smiling wide. He waves at them, too, and Virgil groans. 

Slowly, they approach the lunch table, before Janus takes the seat next to Logan. Virgil scowls as he’s forced to sit next to Roman, wanting to be across from his friends, despite the fact that meant sitting next to what he deemed to be an egotistical prick. 

Roman smiles at him, cocking his head to the side. “How’s your day been, Virge?” he asks,  hoping a simple question will be a nice ice-breaking. Instead, he’s met with a grunt, as Virgil slumps over onto the table somewhat dramatically, covering his head with his hands shortly after. 

"Ah, that bad?" Roman replies, musing internally at the action. His words remain light and teasing, but Virgil lifts his head to glare at him. 

"Can you shut the fuck up?" Virgil responds, bitterly. 

Roman frowns, shoulders slumping, almost disappointed. “I’m sorry. I was just messing around, Virge-” 

"And quit calling me ‘Virge .’ My name's Virgil .”

“Fine, Virgil.” Glancing towards Logan and Janus in order to relieve some of the tension within their own conversation, Roman finds them immersed in one of their own. There’s an air of familiarity to it, like this was standard procedure for them. His eyes quickly dart back towards Virgil, who’d already let his hands fall back onto his arms, and Roman feels a pang of sympathy. He wasn’t sure whether or not Virgil was really affected by being excluded from their conversation, but Roman still thinks it’s hurtful, especially when the pair stand up together to go throw away their trash, still talking..

With them gone, though, an immediate idea pops into his head, and he speaks it without thinking much. 

"Why haven't you dumped me yet?" The question is blunt, and genuine. It’s clear he wants an honest answer. "Do you like me?" 

Virgil snorts, raising his head once again. There’s no hesitation to his words as he sneers “ Hell. No.” He emphasizes his words, scanning Roman up and down judgmentally. Ironic. 

“I just enjoy watching you suffer,” he adds, finally a grin appearing on his features. But… it’s forced. Smug, definitely, but bitter, much more like a scowl-turned-upside-down.

Placing a dramatic hand to his heart, Roman murmurs “ouch,” before smiling at himself and shaking off the action. He follows it up by leaning forward, over the table, resting his face on his hand.

"Who says I'm suffering?" he asks, sweetly, cocky as ever. Virgil despises his confidence. 

Virgil pauses, going stiff, and momentarily a light pink dusts his cheeks. After a moment, though, he shakes his head, as if he had a thought but didn’t want to say it. “You are,” he responds, matter-of-factly. “There’s no possible way you’re enjoying dating me. That’s absurd.” 

Roman waits for him to explain why, but upon realizing Virgil wasn’t going to elaborate further, he sighs. He turns back to Logan and Janus - who’d sat back down across from them - and notices Logan unpacking a lunch. Roman glances back over at Virgil. 

"Where's your lunch?" he asks. 

"I didn't bring one, obviously," Virgil responds, with a groan. He didn’t go home the day prior, so he didn’t have access to any sort of food or a lunch sack, and he was way too awkward to use the food at Janus’s house. That, and they were on a bit of a time crunch this morning. 

Roman’s half-smile is replaced by a more neutral expression, though his brows are furrowed in concern. “Why didn’t you bring one?” 

"I couldn't," Virgil replies, irritated. 

"Why not get a school lunch?" 

"Because I don't have the money," Virgil hisses, slamming his fists onto the table. Both Janus and Logan startle, and turn to look at the two, as well as some kids seated at nearby tables. Virgil notices them and immediately attempts to shrink himself down. His arms wrap around his sides, He hunches over the lunch table, as he whisper-shouts “now, if you’re done playing twenty questions, I would like to enjoy my one class where I can relax.” His head then falls back onto the table with a heavy thud, clearly intent on ignoring anything Roman might further say. 

Roman’s shocked at the outburst, but he listens, and goes back to silently eating his own food, though he does take an apple off his plate and sets it near Virgil. Virgil eventually lifts his head to stare at it silently, and Roman assumes he’s not going to take it, but after a few moments, Virgil sighs and picks it up, before taking a bite. The acceptance is small, but it makes Roman smile somewhat.

Virgil glances at Roman, and considers saying “thanks,” before his dignity gets in the way. So, he finishes the apple in silence, before setting the core rather rudely on Roman’s plate.

But Roman had seen the look Virgil had given him, and could sense the internal debate going on behind Virgil’s eyes. Unable to help himself, Roman smiles. 

The bell rings sometime later, and unfortunately classes resume. 

Roman goes through class as he normally does, cracking jokes with his friends and doodling over his work, meanwhile Virgil sits near the back and attempts to stay quiet, drawing patterns in the margins of his notebook in an attempt to help himself stay focused..

By the end of the day, Virgil was extremely relieved to be going home. A nap sounded extremely appealing, and he had minimal homework assigned, so he could just do it later tonight, or potentially even tomorrow morning. It was a dangerous game to play, but one he often won. 

Virgil opens his locker, grabbing his bag and shoving his notebooks and folders into it, before flinging it over his shoulders. He was hoping he could just grab his stuff and go, but unfortunately a certain jock had to ruin that for him.

Virgil leans on the lockers next to Virgil, flashing him a charming smile. “Hey,” he states, hoping to talk with him before they both went their separate ways. 

Virgil ignores him, though, hoping Roman would take the hint and go away, but it seems Roman was horrid at reading social cues, because he stayed planted right where he was. After a moment, Virgil huffs, shutting his locker before glaring up at Roman.

"What the hell do you want?" he hisses, hoping that his annoyance was clear in his voice. 

"Well, I was hoping to kiss you goodbye--" 

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Virgil responds, voice cracking as he rushes to get the words out. His cheeks are bright red, tense. He really wasn’t in the mood for Roman’s flirting. "We've been 'dating' for like a day; I don't want a kiss from you. Not now, and probably not ever. Now get lost."

Roman merely seems amused. "Actually, a kiss wasn't what I really wanted," he then replies, with a shrug, musing at Virgil’s dramatic sigh of relief. “I was wondering if I could have your number, instead. Since you’re my boyfriend and all.”  

“Whatever,” Virgil replies, face still pink. “Just shut up; your voice is giving me a headache. I’ll give you my number if you promise to go away, okay?” 

Roman nods, overly pleased, as he states “deal!” 

Reaching behind him, Virgil pulls a thick black pen from his bag, before firmly grabbing Roman’s arm, pushing up the sleeve of his jacket, and scribbling his number onto the flesh. Roman chuckles at the action, stating “if you needed paper, I could have just gotten you some,” before Virgil scowls at him. 

"You said you'd go if I gave you my number. Now shoo.” 

Roman grins, but keeps his word as he backs away, pulling out his phone as he goes. Virgil watches his thumbs move for a bit, before Roman’s too far to observe, and then he turns back to his locker. 

However, his newfound peace doesn’t last long, as his phone immediately vibrates in his pocket. Pulling it out, Virgil sees he has a text, and has zero questions as to who it could be.

‘Hey this is your actual number right?’

Groaning, Virgil’s response is immediate. ‘god, i really cant get rid of you, can i? yes, this is my actual number dumbass.’

Virgil glares at the electronic box in his hand, as he begins stomping out of the school building. He really wishes he had said no last night. He could have avoided this whole predicament! Why was Roman even entertaining the thought of being his boyfriend? Isn’t he as miserable as VIrgil is? 

Virgil believes Roman doesn’t like him. Not in a romantic sense, and not in a platonic sense. At most, they were unwilling acquaintances, brought on more so from Virgil and Remus’s interactions than any actual conversations that occurred between the two of them. 

He sets a quick pace as he moves throughout the increasingly empty school hallways. He wasn’t in any particular rush to go back to an empty house, but he felt like he may be intruding if he were to invite himself over to Janus’s house again, especially since Logan seemed to already be going back over there. Besides, spending the night at Janus’s had landed him a boyfriend last time, and he really would rather not have that happen again. 

So, he trudges home, a permanent frown on his face. 

Approaching his door, he fishes his house key from his back pocket, and then walks inside. He plans on heading to his room, but a ring from his phone stops him in his tracks. 

Pulling it out, Virgil only spares a glance towards the caller ID before groaning. Why the hell was Roman calling him already? Or at all , for that matter? 

Regardless, he answers it, more than annoyed. “What do you want?” he asks, irritated, though Roman seems unfazed by his harsh tone. 

"I was going to see if you'd wanna go out for shakes," Roman says, casually, hardly even reacting to Virgil’s sour attitude. "We don't have to, of course, but they canceled practice because the coach had a family emergency, so I'm free for the rest of the day." 

"Good for you," Virgil spits, as he hauls his bag up the stairs to his room. With a grunt, he tosses it onto his bed, before kicking his door shut with the toe of his shoes. He puts his phone on speaker, before tossing that onto his bed as well. 

He changes out of the hoodie Janus let him borrow, and grabs a dark purple one from his closet. It’s a lot bigger, moreso to accommodate for his pudgier body, opposed to Janus’s slimmer one. He’d wash Janus’s hoodie and give it back to him tomorrow; he doubted Janus wanted it after it was soaked in his sweat all day. 

Tossing it into his hamper, Virgil then sits back on his bed, kicking his bag to the side, avoiding opening it for now. 

"Hello? You still there?" Roman asks, causing Virgil to startle. He forgot he didn’t hang up on Roman.

Virgil lets out a sigh, as he fishes his phone from under his thigh, where he’d landed on it. “Sadly, yes.” 

"So, do you wanna go?" 

Right. Roman wants to take him out to get milkshakes. Virgil lets out another sigh. It’d only been a day, and Roman was already throwing so much bullshit his way. But, Virgil would rather go out somewhere than stay here and be alone, even if it meant having to deal with the irritation that came with spending time with Roman. 

"Sure, whatever," Virgil then replies. At least now he had an actual reason to avoid doing his work. 

"Do you want me to come pick you up?" 

"Unless you want me to just walk and meet you at the diner.” 

Roman hums, the phone letting out a rather pretty sounding, static buzz. "Nah, that seems rude. You are my boyfriend after all; I should treat you like you deserve to be treated." 

"That's really gay." 

Roman laughs. "We're literally dating.”

Virgil frowns, awkwardly tensing as he rubs his arms. "Not because we like each other, though." 

"That's fair. If you don't like me, then why did you say yes?” Roman asks, genuinely curious. “We both know I'm not suffering."

Virgil racks his brain for an answer, before biting his lip. Silence hangs in the air for a long couple seconds, before Virgil honestly answers “because Oreo is a stupid game. It’s degrading to be asked, and it humiliates people.”

"It does?" Roman asks, looking for clarification, only for Virgil to let out a noise that he couldn’t quite decipher. 

"Yeah. It does. I assume you're coming to pick me up?" Virgil quickly changes the subject, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

"Yeah. But how does--"

"When?" 

"I was hoping now-ish?" Roman replies, sighing. He then gives an awkward laugh. "If you want to go later though, that's fine." 

"No, now is good," Virgil assures him, as he unknowingly smiles. "What should I keep my eye out for? A truck? A van?" 

"A motorcycle, actually.” 

"Roman, you're fucking seventeen . Where the hell did you get a motorcycle?" 

Roman laughs. “It’s not mine; it’s actually my dad’s, from when he was younger. He lets me drive it.”

Internally, Virgil thought that was awesome. Putting aside the dangers that accompanied riding a motorcycle, Virgil felt the adrenaline would be quite appealing. Sure, he’d never ridden one, but he would soon, it seems. 

"I'll see you soon then,” Virgil states, before he hangs up his phone. He wasn’t going to give Roman any room to back out of this. Not when he was going to get a free motorcycle ride. 

Hey, if he was going to be stuck in a miserable situation, he was going to accept the advantages while he still could. 

Tucking his phone into his back pocket, Virgil quickly pushes himself out of bed, before pacing back and forth within his bedroom, mind switching between the excitement of getting to ride a motorcycle, the fear of crashing and dying horribly, and the distaste of having to spend time with Roman. 

Overall, he was fully aware it was going to be a strange evening. 

Chapter Text

Virgil lets out a groan as he hears a motorcycle engine rev outside. Internally, he debates ghosting Roman, or texting him telling him he changed his mind, but inevitably decides against it. 

He grabs his house key, before making his way to the front door. Locking it behind him, he double checks to make sure it’s locked, and then triple checks to be fully confident. 

Hesitantly trudging towards the motorcycle, Virgil sees that Roman has taken his helmet off. His hair was disheveled - no doubt disturbed by the helmet pressing against it - but he was smiling wide. The motorcycle itself was bright white, with gold accents.

Roman was standing beside it, having parked and turned it off once Virgil had come outside. 

“Someone’s excited,” Roman teases, as Virgil’s eyes look over the bike.

Virgil huffs at the statement, scowling as he glances towards Roman’s face. "Don't say that; it sounds sexual." 

Roman laughs, before turning to lift up the seat. Beneath it was a storage compartment. 

He pulls out another helmet, slimmer than his own, and instead of being the same white and gold as Roman’s, this one was just a solid black. He hands it to Virgil with a comforting smile.

"You ready to go?" Roman asks, as he swings himself over the motorcycle seat, pushing up the kickstop with his foot. 

Virgil watches him as he does so. "Yup." 

"You know how to ride a motorcycle, right?" 

"Yes, Roman.” Virgil rolls his eyes. He feels his chest tighten. 

Roman smiles at Virgil’s bitterness, looking at Virgil expectantly, before placing his helmet on his head. Virgil runs his thumbs over his own, before he slides it on too, and climbs onto the motorcycle after. Nervously, he slides his arms around Roman’s torso, heart racing. Once again, the motorcycle revs, before Roman’s wrist rolls forward and it starts up, pulling forward and away from Virgil’s house. 

The wind against his body makes him shiver, his hoodie flapping around him. Without thinking, he pulls himself closer to Roman, chest leaning against his back for warmth. 

Despite the chill, Virgil’s smiling wide beneath the helmet, eyes observing the blur of buildings they pass by. 

But, the ride is over in a matter of minutes, as they pull into the parking lot of a small, local diner. Virgil slips off the motorcycle first, Roman following suit. They take their helmets off and hang them on the bike handles, before Roman’s fingers brush against Virgil’s, subtly slipping them between Virgil’s own.

Virgil is too exhilarated to notice. 

Roman keeps a hold of Virgil's hand as they walk in, leading them to a booth. Slowly, he pulls his hand away, and sits on the bench opposite of Virgil so they could sit across from each other. 

A waitress comes over, and hands them menus with a soft greeting. Roman smiles at her. Virgil looks down. 

His eyes scan over the menu as he attempts to appear busy, while Roman makes small talk. He compliments her nails, and asks where she got them done. His eyes briefly flicker up to look at them, and he notices how genuinely Roman smiles at her. 

She smiles back at him, glancing at her nails herself as if she’s admiring them in a new light, before she shakes her head slightly as if to dismiss the topic, asking instead if they’d like anything to drink. 

“Just water,” Virgil responds, awkwardly, as he flips the menu open. Pancakes, burgers, chicken tenders; the choices were endless. 

“Just water?” Roman asks, one eyebrow raised as he smiles, plotting. “Are you sure you don’t want anything more exciting? They have hot chocolate, tea… milkshakes! Wouldn’t you rather have a milkshake?” Though he was partially teasing, there was a soft air to his voice. He was genuinely asking, though also somewhat encouraging Virgil to agree. 

The waitress looks towards him.

“I mean… I guess. A milkshake then.” 

The waitress’s pen taps against her notepad, prepared to write. “What flavor? We have the classic vanilla, chocolate, strawberry…” 

“What about a cookies and creme variant?” Roman prompts. 

Virgil flushes at the notion, and the reminder of why they were on this date in the first place. He dreads the waitress’s response. 

“Oreo? We do. Is that fine with you?” She directs the question towards Virgil, who wants to groan into his hands. 

“Sure,” comes his response, through gritted teeth. She smiles, scribbles it down, and then turns towards Roman. 

Roman nods to her, before tilting his head towards Virgil. Voice low and playful, he asks "do you wanna be cliche with me? One shake, two straws?"

Virgil snorts, finally meeting Roman’s eyes. "That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard come out of your mouth, which is surprising, considering I've heard you introduce yourself." 

Gasping dramatically, Roman places a hand over his heart."Are you calling me stupid? How dare you!” The waitress laughs at Roman’s theatrics, and even Virgil can’t help the grin that rises to his face.

"You figure it out," he quips, matching Roman’s playfulness. 

Despite not getting a solid answer, Roman turns to the waitress and asks for one large shake with two straws, turning to Virgil afterwards. 

“That way, if you decide to want to share, we can always toss one out,” Roman muses, and Virgil’s cheeks go pink at the idea, huffing as he shoves his menu towards Roman. 

“Shut up,” is his only response, but Roman laughs lightly regardless.

Virgil laughs along with him. Something about Roman’s own happiness seems to be infectious. 

He doesn’t notice that Roman’s smiling at the sound, not used to hearing Virgil actually express his enjoyment. Sure, they don’t hang around each other often, but whenever Roman’s able to observe him, the most he ever sees is a slight upturn to his lips. Never… this. 

Smiling really suited Virgil. 

"Quit staring at me, jock," Virgil suddenly says, after a moment. It startles Roman out of his daydreaming state. Virgil’s eyes are narrowed, but he’s still smiling, cheek resting on his hand as he stares into Roman’s forest-green eyes

Roman smirks in response, puffing his chest out as he exclaims "I couldn't help myself. With a face as pretty as yours, it's almost impossible to look away." 

Though, instead of the typical huffy or flustered response Roman’s used to seeing by now, Virgil laughs again. “That was super cheesy. Does that ever work on anyone?”

"I don't know; did it work on you?"

Virgil snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hell no." 

Roman sighs, sounding mockingly disappointed. Eyes closed remorsefully, Roman laments “well, it was worth a shot nonetheless.” 

Eventually, the waitress comes back with the Oreo milkshake and two straws. She sets them down on the table, and winks at them as she leaves. Virgil rolls his eyes in response while Roman chuckles, reaching forward to hand Virgil a straw of his own. 

Both of them tear the paper covering, with Roman sliding his to the edge of his straw and blowing it at Virgil, before the two of them stick their straws into the milkshake.  

Roman’s the first to take a sip, and he smiles immediately after doing so. "Oreo was a great choice. This tastes amazing." 

"It's just an Oreo shake, you dork," Virgil responds, as he takes a sip. “There’s nothing overly special about it.” 

"Maybe it's just being here with you that makes it taste better." 

Virgil smiles briefly, before his smile drops and he sighs right after. "You… you really need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

Virgil fidgets with his hands under the table. “All the flirting. You know I don’t like you. And I know you don’t like me.”

Roman’s smile falls as well. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Virgil shrugs, casually taking another sip of the shake. His shoulders were tense though. "Your posse says enough." 

Frowning now, Roman leans back. "They don't speak for me. I never said I didn't like you. The things that Remus says shouldn’t be internalized. He’s mean to everyone.” 

Virgil just shakes his head and looks away, almost disappointed. He uses his finger to stir the straw in the thick milkshake.

Roman looks on, confused, as he tries to think of anything he could have done that might have upset Virgil, along with anything he could say to aid the situation.

Unable to come up with something, Roman changes the topic. 

"I didn't see your parents when I picked you up. Were they just inside?" Roman asks, hoping the out-of-the-blue question will lead to a lighter conversation. He wanted to subdue the otherwise thick tension between them. 

Virgil shakes his head. “My dad's on vacation." 

"When will he be back?" 

Shrugging at the question, Virgil turns his attention fully back to Roman. He sees nothing wrong with that answer, but Roman gasps, less dramatically and more serious this time. 

“You don’t know?” 

Face flushing with humiliation, Virgil shrugs again. "He never told me. He just said he'd be back; he didn't say when. It’s not like he'll be gone forever." 

"So…so you've just been alone?" Roman prods. 

Virgil awkwardly clears his throat. "Not really. He left two days ago. I spent the first night alone, and then I spent the night at Janus’s yesterday, so I haven't been completely alone.” 

Roman nods, not completely convinced, but understanding nonetheless. "Are you spending the night with him again?"

"No," Virgil responds, huffing slightly. “He and Logan are hanging out tonight, and I don’t really feel like intruding.” Virgil’s fingers tap against the table, before he snorts. “Besides, the last time I spent the night over there, I woke up with a boyfriend.”

Grinning proudly, Roman goes “and that’s such a bad thing?”

"Considering you’re the boyfriend I woke up with, yes. That’s a horrible thing.”

It’s Roman’s turn to roll his eyes, as he pulls the Oreo shake closer to him, taking a sip himself, and dramatically sticking his tongue out at Virgil afterwards.

"Do you like being alone?" Roman then asks, after a moment.

Virgil hesitates, before sighing. “Not really, but there’s not much I can really do about it.” 

Roman frowns, but doesn’t ask any follow up questions, instead taking an obnoxiously loud sip of the shake. 

Then the waitress comes back. 

“Have you guys decided on what to eat?” she asks, and both Roman and Virgil exchange a wide-eyed glance. 

Roman laughs awkwardly. “No, sorry! We haven’t even gotten a chance to look at the menu,” he admits, while Virgil hurriedly flips his menu open and scans the items on it. 

“Chicken tenders,” Virgil suddenly blurts, before his face goes red with humiliation as the waitress turns towards him, confused. 

He clears his throat, and clarifies “I’d like the chicken tenders, please.” He sits stiff, rubbing his hands together beneath the table. “Just a normal basket, with fries maybe.” He then looks towards Roman, who gets the hint and quickly opens his own menu. 

“Would you like any dipping sauce?” the waitress prompts, writing down his order.

“Ranch?” It’s more of a question than an answer, but the waitress seems satisfied as she makes a note of that as well. 

She then turns to Roman, who sets his menu down as he proclaims “I’d like a burger. Please. With no tomato.” 

“Fries on the side?”

“Yes please.” Roman gathers the menus together and hands them to the waitress, who accepts them with a thankful nod. 

As she tucks them under her arm, she asks if he’d like any sauce for his fries, to which he politely declines. She then turns and walks away. 

Virgil sighs in relief as soon as she's gone. 

Roman laughs. “That was panic-inducing,” he jokes, musing at Virgil’s uttered reply of “no kidding,” before Roman pushes the shake back towards him. Virgil accepts it with open arms, and takes a sip, absentmindedly picking a straw. 

They finish the shake together in the time it takes for their food to arrive, chatting every now and then, as the sky outside begins to grow dark. 

When the waitress comes back, she has two plastic baskets of food with her, a checkered and flimsy piece of paper inside of it, on which their food sits on. Both of the platters are stained with grease, but both Roman and Virgil offer thanks to the waitress as they look towards their food. 

Roman’s the first to pick his food up, taking a large bite of the burger, leaving Virgil to laugh as juice runs down his chin. 

Quickly, Roman grabs a napkin and wipes at his mouth, but he chews quickly, laughing once he’s choked it all down. “Wow,” he mutters, smiling. “This is really good.” 

Rolling his eyes at the dramatics, Virgil picks up a chicken tender, and dips it in the ranch. He’s a lot more courteous with his bite, but there’s something so appealing about the warm taste of greasy food. Despite the slick residue it leaves behind on Virgil’s fingers. 

“Pass the ranch?” Roman then asks, meekly, leaving Virgil to huff and roll his eyes as he sets the small container of ranch between them. 

Roman immediately reaches forward to slather two fries with it, before popping them into his mouth.

They eat their food in mostly silence, with the occasional comment or short exchange every now and then, but really both of them are content with just eating for now. Surprisingly, there’s nothing weird about enjoying a meal in the other’s company. 

When they’re finished, Roman waves the waitress over and requests the bill. He pays with his card, before pulling out a hefty stack of cash from his wallet and setting it on the table. Virgil meagerly pulls out a few bills and lays them aside Roman’s pile. 

Once he gets his card back (and sees the way the waitress’s face lights up with pure joy), Roman grabs Virgil’s hand, and pulls him outside.

By this time, the dark blue of the sky has gradually faded into a warm gold as the sun sets. The ombre of colours draws Roman’s eyes. Virgil watches the wide-eyed way he stares at the sky, how his pupils trace the merging of the colours, before his head lands facing the sun, a warm smile on his face that contrasts the chilliness of the evening. 

“How much do I owe you?” Virgil asks, drawing Roman out of his enraptured state. 

Roman looks at him, puzzled, a confused smile on his face. “What do you mean? You don’t owe me anything.”

“My half of dinner,” Virgil clarifies, as he’s handed his helmet. He holds it firm as he stares back at Roman, who merely shrugs off Virgil’s statement. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Roman replies, as he raises his helmet above his head. “Consider that my thanks for such a nice evening.” 

He then promptly pulls his helmet onto his head, effectively ending the conversation, and any of Virgil’s further protests. 

Climbing back onto the motorcycle, Roman then slowly pulls out of the diner, and drives a bit slower towards Virgil’s neighbourhood. Even after pulling up to his house, Roman’s slow to park the bike. 

Sooner than Virgil would have liked, they’re stopped on the curb. 

Virgil slides off, pulling the helmet off of his head and handing it back to Roman, who pushes the kickstop down before getting off himself. He sets his own helmet on one of the bike handles, before tucking Virgil’s back under the seat.

"I guess this is where we part ways, huh?" Roman says, laughing slightly, as he looks between Virgil and his house. 

Virgil scoffs at his dramatic lamenting. "I'll literally see you tomorrow," he responds, unamused, but with a small smile on his face. “Now shoo. I need alone time to recoup.” 

Roman sighs, smiling. “I guess I’ll meet you by your locker, then.”

Virgil snickers, backing up towards his door. “Don’t count on it,” he teasingly calls out, before unlocking his door and heading inside. He kicks the door shut behind him, locking it after, and then leans back against it, letting himself slowly sink to the ground as he sighs.

Roman had essentially been flirting with him the entire time, had paid for their entire (albeit cheap) meal, and had given him a (very fun) ride both to the diner and back to his house. 

This sucked.

Roman was being a genuinely good person. He’s been polite and respectful. Thinking about it, Virgil realizes he has little reason to hate him.

That “date” was horrible, and Virgil enjoyed every second of it. Wonderful.

Chapter Text

Does he even have a reason to despise Roman? A real reason? 

He knows he hates Remus, but he can’t drag Roman into his brother’s bullying. Well, technically he could, but it’d be immature. 

Huffing, Virgil tries to think of a reason - perhaps an annoying interaction they’ve had or teasing that was taken too far - but he ultimately comes up short. He just seemingly decided one day after seeing him around Remus that he didn’t like the man. Overlooking the fact they’re brothers in order to justify his bitterness. 

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut. 

Okay, he’ll admit that was a bit unfair of him. Deciding that he didn’t like Roman just because of who he’s related to was silly. 

But, at the same time, Remus harassed him and his friends constantly. How could someone as wonderful and caring as Roman be related to someone who’s so pathetic that he picks on other people to feel some semblance of self worth? 

Virgil’s fists roughly hit against his pillows, letting out a frustrated groan as he struggles to sift through the thoughts flooding within his mind like unruly waves crashing against a beach. He can’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds; a thought would come, he’d feel guilt or justification, and then a new thought would take its place. 

He sits back up, adjusting his position on the couch, before he turns and presses his face into a new cushion. Closing his eyes once again, the “date” he’d just gone on plays in his mind like a movie. 

Roman’s smile… The ease by which he talked... 

And his laughter. 

Virgil pulls his knees up to his chest, sighing as he urges himself to relax. The sweet taste of a milkshake on his tongue seems to linger. A wave of exhaustion overtakes him as the exertion of today finally catches up. He’s not an extrovert by any means, and spending the entire day out with Roman was taking a toll. 

He leans back on the couch, yawning dramatically, before pushing his face hard into one of the cushions. He lets his eyes close. The date seems to play in his mind like a movie, and he lets the memory of Roman’s soft chuckle lull him to sleep. 

***

He wakes up the next morning with a headache. 

His phone is beeping repeatedly, and when Virgil looks at him, he’s quick to push himself onto his feet. 

Groaning as a wave of vertigo overtakes him, he watches a call from Janus suddenly end, adding to a culmination of missed calls currently capped at “16,” but still threatening to increase. He doesn’t bother answering, instead quickly unlocking his phone as he stumbles towards his room, being met with a barrage of texts including ‘where are you?’ and ‘class started fifteen minutes ago!’

Fifteen minutes. And to make matters worse, Virgil can tell he’d overslept, meaning he feels exhausted as ever. Next time he gets home early from a date, he’ll try to keep himself up until ten. 

Quickly, Virgil sends an ‘i overslept’ text to the group chat, met with the singular reaction of a thumbs-down emoji from Logan. Truly helpful. 

He quickly gets ready, shrugging off his dirty clothes in favor of a different hoodie and another pair of black jeans, before patting his pocket to make sure he has his house key. He throws his backpack over his shoulders, and nearly trips down the stairs. 

Under his breath he curses himself for putting off getting his driver’s license. It’s not a long walk by any means, but with him already being late, having a quicker mode of transportation would definitely help. 

Essentially sprinting, he can feel himself getting sweaty, and he shakes his head and groans as he realizes he forgot deodorant or toothpaste. Gross. 

When he finally hauls his ass into school, he desperately explains his situation to the main office, and is given a late pass which he shamefully carries as he makes his way to his first class. He looks a mess, and he knows it, and so tries to keep his head down as he walks inside. 

Every head raises to stare at him, including Janus’s, and the teachers. He shifts uncomfortably where he stands. 

"Mr. Addams," she addresses him, sounding rather annoyed. "Glad to see you're finally joining us. Do you have a pass?” 

Virgil raises her arm to hand her the slip, and she reads over it before nodding and setting it on her desk. 

“The office will adjust your attendance,” she says, dismissively, and Virgil walks to his desk in the back of the room. His chest aches as he feels everyone’s eyes following him. How stupid does he look? Did he remember to lock the front door?

He collapses into his seat, feeling his legs throb as he keeps a hand on his chest, trying to steady his breathing. Running here took so much effort, and keeping his eyes open wasn’t proving to be any easier. He feels as though he’s going to fall to the ground unconscious at any moment. 

He resists the urge to lay his head down on his desk, and tries his best to pay attention, not wanting to upset his teacher any further. She already wasn’t pleased with him; he’d hate to do something that would result in a stern talking-to, or even worse, a referral. 

In the corner of his eye, Virgil watches Janus type on his phone under the desk, though his head stays straight. His eyes look between Virgil and the teacher. Though he’s curious, Virgil doesn’t bother to check the vibrating phone in his pocket, not wanting to risk fumbling and dropping it. He’d already drawn enough attention toward himself today. 

Thankfully, the bell rings after just a short while for Virgil, and he trudges out of the room, Janus at his side.

“Geez, you look like shit,” he comments, making Virgil roll his eyes. He rubs at his face, focusing around his eyes, as he tries to wake himself up more. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I might pass out,” Virgil groggily responds, before forcing himself to stretch. As he reaches his arms over his head, he lets out a slight groan, and then relaxes again. It didn’t help much, but his body feels less strained. 

Janus sets a hand on his back. It’s a light touch, but it’s clear he’s helping guide Virgil, if only a bit. 

That doesn’t keep Janus from grinning, though. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is stay alive until lunch, and then you can fall asleep on that hunk of a boyfriend you have.” Janus wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to entice some bitter or embarrassed refute from Virgil, but all he gets is a slight hum in response. 

Janus whistles. “You must really be tired, hm? Not a glare? No shoulder punch?” He stops their walking to set the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re just feeling tired? You’re not running a fever or anything, are you?” 

Virgil finally scoffs, and pushes Janus’s hand away. Janus was right in a sense though. He just had to make it to lunch. Then, he could take a quick nap! Hopefully, he’d feel better after that.

Thank god tomorrow was Friday.

Virgil sleepwalks through his next few classes, but it doesn’t seem like any of his teachers notice. Janus and Logan accompany him through a few of them, but he hardly notices. With his head down, he struggles to keep awake, and resorts to kicking his leg in order to stay awake.

Finally, after what seems like centuries to Virgil, lunch comes around. 

His eyes burn, and he feels like he’s shaking with every step he takes. He just needs to make it to the cafeteria. Then, he’ll be okay. 

As he’s walking - rather slowly - towards the loud chatter and open double-doors, an arm wraps around his shoulders. Virgil jumps, and stiffens as he cranes his neck upwards, only to see Roman. 

“Lacking the pep in your step, I see,” Roman jokes, and Virgil can’t help the small smile that graces his lips. 

“I’m tired,” Virgil clarifies, as he lets Roman guide him forward.

Roman chuckles. "You shouldn't be; you told the teacher you overslept.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, but Roman suggests “you can nap at lunch. I don’t think all the screaming would make the greatest white noise, but to each their own.” 

Virgil laughs softly. “Janus told me a similar thing.” He leaves out the bit where Janus joked about Virgil falling asleep against Roman. Being reminded of that, he’s quick to pull himself away from Roman, who eases his grip and allows Virgil to do so. 

People whisper as they pass. It was still big news that Roman decided to date some social outcast! Virgil still needed to ask how people found out about that, though, with Roman’s love for affection and his brother’s big mouth, he definitely had a few guesses. 

Once they sit down at their table, Virgil immediately slumps over it, and tucks his head into his arms. Roman, who’s apparently decided this was his new table as well, pats Virgil’s back comfortingly. 

“I take it you’re no longer completely against dating Roman?” Janus teases, alluding to the fact they walked in together. 

Virgil just shrugs, too lethargic to care at the moment. 

Janus laughs. “Better watch out, Roman! Virgil might actually be falling in love with you.” He winks, and Roman smiles, but Virgil lets out a string of muffled words at Janus’s teasing. 

They’re mostly incoherent, but Janus can just assume the obvious; Virgil was obviously saying something along the lines of “I could never fall in love with someone like him.” 

Roman has no qualms laughing at Janus’s words, though, cheeks a nice pink at the idea. Virgil actually falling in love with him? Never. And Roman becoming equally smitten? He doesn’t see it happening. 

There were no real romantic feelings between them, and Roman knew that. But he’s not a quitter, and if Virgil insists on being in this “relationship,” then Roman will make sure it’s the best relationship Virgil’s ever partaken in. 

Sneaking a glance downwards, Roman’s met with Virgil’s (supposedly) sleeping figure. He was breathing rhythmically, so Roman assumes he’s finally managed to drift off. 

Out of courtesy, Roman lowers his voice, and when Logan finally comes over to join them, he does the same. Logan has a book out as he eats, but he has no problem talking while reading, as if that wasn’t an impressive task. And as lunch carries on, Logan and Janus become more invested in each other, leaving Roman to eat his lunch quietly, side-by-side with Virgil. 

When the bell rings, Janus and Logan get up and walk off together, leaving Roman with a sleeping Virgil. 

With a sigh, Roman gently shakes Virgil awake. Virgil groans, before weakly swatting at Roman’s hands. His accuracy is horrid, but Roman’s arms retreat anyway, giving Virgil space to stretch. 

“Don’t touch me… you heathen….” Virgil yawns, blinking his eyes open. 

Roman grins. “Heathen? That’s an awfully mean thing to call somebody who’s looking out for you. Here I am, selflessly making sure you get to your next class on time, and you insult me.” Roman sets a hand on his chest, feigning being struck, as if Virgil’s insult had punched him square in the torso. 

Virgil stands, yawning again, before cracking his back. Then, he begins walking. Roman walks with him. They don’t share the same class this period, but it’s in the same general direction.

“Believe me, Roman, I could call you worse,” Virgil threatens, voice gravelly. He still sounds exhausted, but he looks a bit better. Hopefully, with a quick cat-nap, he’d be better suited to finish the rest of the day. 

Roman laughs, but doesn’t respond. Silently, they head to Virgil’s class, before Roman waves and turns away to walk to his own, leaving Virgil to settle himself at his desk. 

Their afternoon classes are uneventful, and the two are both fairly happy when the dismissal bell rings. Roman runs to his locker, which is already swarmed with fellow football players, other boys trying to associate with the “cool” jocks, and girls desperate to talk to them. 

He manages to worm his way to his locker, but in attempting to grab his stuff and leave, he’s stopped by Remus. 

“Hey, loser,” Remus greets him, with a wide smile. He’s leaning against the locker next to Roman’s. “Have you convinced that outcast to break up with you yet?” Remus picks at his teeth with his pinky as he waits for an answer, seemingly intrigued. 

“No,” Roman replies, as he shuts his locker a bit louder than necessary. “I haven’t been trying.” 

Remus looks a little surprised. “Why not? Don’t tell me you actually caught feelings for that accident?” 

Roman narrows his eyes, turning to Remus with comically red cheeks. He was frustrated, but such a look could easily be mistaken for fluster. A strange compulsion to defend Virgil wells up in his chest. Maybe it was because Virgil wasn’t here to stick up for himself. 

“So what if I have?” is his immediate jest, threatening Remus to raise any sort of objection. “Is that such a problem?” There’s a glare not normally present in his soft green eyes, and it makes Remus jut his chin out in a mixture of curiosity, and amusement. 

Roman doesn’t actually have feelings for Virgil, but he has respect and basic decency. Unlike Remus, apparently.

“You barely know him,” Roman continues, as the increasing volume of his voice draws the attention of the people around them, “and from what I’ve seen, he’s a better person than you are.” 

“That’s not a hard bar to surpass.” 

Roman groans, before stomping his foot dramatically. “Whatever, Remus! Get out of my way; I’m going to see my boyfriend.” 

He pushes past Remus, purposely bumping his shoulder against his brother’s, before stomping off, leaving Remus there, intrigued. 

Roman takes deep breaths as he makes his way to Virgil’s locker, where he hopes the latter is. And he’s pleased when he sees Virgil there, though Virgil looks exhausted. 

His forehead is pressed against his locker, eyes closed. He was holding his bag by his strap, though it hangs down, being drawn to the floor. 

Roman sets a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, and apologizes immediately when Virgil jumps. His eyes are wide as he stares at Roman, before sighing out a short “what do you want?” Ever so polite, Virgil wastes no time getting straight to the point.

Roman smiles. “I came to ask if you wanted to come over!” 

“Why?” Virgil responds, voice sounding tired. It’s enough to make Roman shift his weight from one leg to the other, debating whether or not he should just drop the topic. 

“You mentioned earlier that you didn’t like being alone,” Roman replies, smile faltering slightly. “I came to provide you an alternate option!”

“Who said I’d want to spend time with you instead?” 

Roman lets out a sigh, adjusting the bag on his back. “I guess you have a point. I’ll take that as a no, then.” He turns to leave. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow-” 

His hand is immediately grabbed, and Roman turns to see Virgil looking a little anxious. He quickly masks it when they make eye contact, and releases Roman’s hand just as quickly.

“I never said no,” Virgil replies, wiping his hand on his pants as though Roman had infected it with germs. “I’ll come over. Are your parents okay with this?” 

Roman just shrugs in response, but he smiles wide. “I’m sure they won’t mind.” 

He takes hold of Virgil’s hand, pulling him through the school and out the front door. He pulls a pair of car keys out of his pocket, and leads Virgil to a slick, white car. Not a single splatter of mud or pile of bird shit over it. Roman unlocks it, and even opens the passenger side door for him.

The seats are comfy, and Virgil settles into his with a pleased groan, as Roman gets into the driver’s side and starts the car. 

“I could fall asleep right now,” Virgil comments, making Roman laugh. 

“It’s a short drive,” he assures Virgil. “I have a comfy bed you can fall asleep on at home instead.” 

Virgil lets his head fall to the side, staring at the window as Roman drives them out of the school parking lot, and down the street. They go straight for a while, before Roman turns down a certain street. The houses lining the sidewalk were giant, and looked incredibly old. 

Virgil’s eyes go wide. 

“The historical district?” Virgil exclaims, pressing his forehead against the window. “But… but the houses here are super expensive! Do you really live here?” 

Roman nods, and slows his car as he turns and drives up a nice paved driveway, leaving Virgil to stare at the large house they’re pulling up to. It’s white with many, many windows, and a faded blue roof. Large pillars act as support, and a giant yard is freshly trimmed, with marble decorations. Flowers grow along the driveway and the path to the front door. 

Roman parks the car on the driveway, behind two black cars parked side by side. He pulls a key out of his pocket and walks Virgil to the front door, before unlocking it. He shuts the door behind them, and then interlocks his arm with Virgil’s. 

“Dad, Papa, I’m home!” Roman then calls, giving Virgil’s arm an assuring squeeze. “And I brought somebody you might want to meet!” 

Chapter Text

"We'll be right there!" comes an excited response, with the sound of fast footsteps following suit Mere minutes later, two men come sprinting down the stairs, the shorter of the two nearly tripping on the bottom step. The taller of the two greets Roman with a big hug, though compared to Roman’s might build he looked just as small as the other. 

“Who’s that?” the shorter one asks, smiling softly but keeping his distance. 

Roman smiles wide, and his arm moves to be wrapped around Virgil’s waist. “This is my boyfriend! Virgil.” Roman gently wiggles Virgil back and forth, and Virgil’s face flushes dark. “Virgil, these are my dads: Bruce and David.”

David - the shorter one - offers up a small wave, while Bruce smiles. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil!” Bruce exclaims, as he reaches his hand out for Virgil to take. Virgil’s fingers feel crushed by Bruce’s firm grip. “I hope Roman’s been treating you right.” He backs up after, and waves them further into the house. Virgil and Roman follow them to the living room. While Bruce leads the way, David lags behind. 

“How’d you two get together?” he asks, walking side-by-side with Virgil. Between the two, David looked more like Roman. Tanner skin and darker hair, with the same nose and eye shape. Though, Virgil notes he shares Remus’s birthmark; a white streak runs through his hair. 

Roman glances at Virgil, and then vaguely answers “a game.”

"A stupid one,” Virgil clarifies, as he pulls away from Roman’s hold. “One that exists to make people feel bad.” He glares at Roman, who avoids his eyes. 

Bruce lets out a laugh, as he gets settled on a nice, big couch. David settles next to him, leaning against Bruce and intertwining their hands, letting Virgil see the matching wedding bands. 

“Most games are like that,” Bruce says, before turning to David. “Remember when we were kids, and were playing spin the bottle at Karen’s sixteenth birthday party?” 

David smiles, but Roman looks uncomfortable. “Yeah, of course I do. And how when she spun the bottle, it landed on me.” 

"I swear she was cheating!” Bruce interjects. “But when she went to kiss you, you chickened out. Boy, was she mad!” 

Roman lets out a sigh, as he grabs Virgil’s arm and gently guides them away from his now reminiscing parents. He leads Virgil up the very steps his parents descended, and down a beautifully decorated hallway. There are plenty of family pictures featuring the four; with David and Bruce standing happily behind the twins, but Virgil notes there are none of them as children. Only as teenagers.

Roman turns into a room, and leaves the door open behind them, before flopping onto his bed.

Virgil steals a second to look around the massive space. The walls were bright white, with the trimming being painstakingly painted gold. He has a king sized bed with red bedsheets, and a plethora of fluffy pillows that are a mixture of gold and white. A massive flatscreen television sits directly across from the bed, and his dressers and end tables are lined with trophies and clay figurines, clearly homemade but equally as impressive. 

Along with the figurines, there were also some canvases and framed art pieces hanging up. 

His eyes then settle back on Roman, who’s been watching Virgil analyze his room. Virgil looks away as soon as he’s caught, but Roman chuckles.

“If you’re about to ask if you can lay on my bed, my answer is yes, so long as I can lay beside you,” Roman coos, playfully, which has Virgil huffing as he sets his bag heavily on the floor. 

“No thanks. I’ll sit on the floor.” 

Roman laughs, as he sits up, making grabby hands at Virgil. “I’m just messing around. Feel free to come sit. Or look around, if you want. Just don’t break anything.” 

Virgil gives a small smile. “I won’t.” 

He does circle around the room, studying each painting and picture decorating the wall in hopes it would reveal anything about Roman. Once again, Virgil only sees family pictures post childhood, with hardly any even featuring Roman’s friends from school. 

Then, he moves to Roman’s bed, and settles down on it. Though, he makes sure to keep his distance from Roman. 

Roman turns onto his side, using his arms to cradle his head as he stares at Virgil. “Do you want me to turn on a movie or something?” he asks, watching as Virgil leans back against the pillows, and then turns to bury his face in them. The mattress and pillows were extremely comfortable, and Virgil could feel his body sinking into them. 

A muffled response is all Roman gets, so he clicks on a movie anyway. Virgil can’t help but groan when he hears the Disney jingle, already picturing the castle sliding onto screen and lighting up with fireworks. 

Virgil’s arms slide under one of Roman’s pillows, reaching towards the cool fabric with a soft, comfortable sound. It didn’t matter what Roman put on; he wasn’t watching the movie anyway. He buries his face deep into the pillow, and lets himself stretch out and relax. 

Somehow, his eyes relax, shutting, as he lets himself linger in a half-sleep state, before his mind eventually fades to black. 

***

It was near midnight when Virgil finally stirs. He feels the bed shift, waking him up fully as he shoots up, wide-eyed and startled. He even jumps when he sees Roman, who’s leaning over onto the bed from a pallet made of loose blankets and pillows on the floor. 

It takes him a few minutes to remember where he’s at, as Roman gently sets his hand atop his. 

“Calm down,” Roman says softly, though there’s a hint of playfulness in his voice. “It’s just me.” 

“Shit,” Virgil immediately curses, as he stifles a yawn. He feels around for his phone which has promptly slipped out of his pocket, and checks the time. More profanity spills from his lips when he sees the time. 

“Fuck. I didn’t…” Virgil rubs his eyes, pausing to reevaluate his sentence, before sighing and slumping over, resting his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to just come over and fall asleep. I’m sorry.” 

Roman smiles and shakes his head. “It’s fine, mi amado.” 

“I don’t speak ‘asshole,’” Virgil bitterly responds, narrowing his eyes at Roman, though it’s hard to look threatening as he lets out another yawn. “What’d you say?”

“I didn’t say anything bad, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

“But what’d you say?” Virgil presses, but he’s ignored and laughed at as Roman lets out a soft chuckle, causing Virgil to groan. 

“You’re a bitch.” 

Roman raises his eyebrows, before sassily responding “ I’m not the one barking out orders.” 

Virgil frowns and immediately moves to grab one of Roman’s pillows and toss it at him. Roman leans back onto his pallet in an attempt to dodge the pillow, but it misses horribly anyway. 

Roman laughs, before he lets out a sigh. “My parents said you could stay the night if you wanted, as it’s already late anyway, but if you’d rather go home I can drive you.” 

Virgil thinks for a moment, checking the time once again. A quarter past midnight. 

He sighs, and shakes his head. “No thanks. I’d rather stay here.” As he looks towards Roman, he sees the latter’s raised eyebrows and skeptical, playful look on his face, which immediately has Virgil feeling embarrassed and defensive. 

“Not because I like you!” Virgil’s quick to add, with a huff. “Or your fancy-ass house! I’m just too tired to tolerate spending ten minutes in a car with you. Especially this late at night!” 

“But spending the next seven hours in my bedroom is a different story?” 

Virgil crosses his arms over his chest. “Is there a comfy bed in your car? Didn’t think so.” 

Roman laughs, and Virgil stiffens at the sound, before he’s crawling to the end of the bed and swinging his legs over the side. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Roman. I was just kidding about the bed; I can sleep on the pallet.” 

Roman immediately shakes his head. “No. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” Roman leans onto his mattress, crossing his arms and laying his head atop them as he stares up at Virgil with those gorgeous, lush-green eyes. “You already napped in my bed; you might as well just sleep in it too.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to go back to sleep. I’ve already slept so much.” 

“I’ll stay up with you then. I’m wide awake.” Roman smiles, and Virgil finally has to tear his eyes away from him and look at something else. 

“Good,” he responds, after a moment. “You’ll provide nice entertainment. You are a clown, after all.” 

Laughing, Roman asks “are you only able to insult me?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Well, in that case, I retract every nice thing I’ve ever said about you.” Roman sticks his tongue out childishly, and then grins wide, but Virgil just looks back at him, smiling, but with furrowed brows.

“The fact you’ve said anything nice about me at all astounds me.” 

"Why?"

Virgil shrugs, a half-hearted smile on his face. “Because I’m not that easy to compliment. It’s not that hard to see, Roman.” 

“I disagree,” Roman says, almost immediately, sitting up a little more seriously. “I could compliment like… ten different attributes of yours right now.” 

Virgil raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. "Doubt it." 

“Oh?” Roman begins, leaning upwards. “Is that a challenge? Don’t tempt me, Virgil; I’m incredibly competitive.” 

“You’re not competing with anybody-” 

“Your bangs look soft and pretty hanging over your eyes, but I wish those beautiful irises weren’t so hidden. Your eyes are so dark they’re black, and are intensified by your makeup, which, while unusual, shapes your face well and pulls attention to your eyes overall. I’ve never seen someone with such an intense, alluring stare.” Roman speaks poetry into the air, and leans even closer to Virgil as he continues. 

“You know how to dress your body. Maybe I’m biased because skinny jeans are form-fitting, but you always look good. It’s certainly a statement, but one you’re not afraid to make. And black nails really suit you.” 

Virgil’s fingers flex, his nail polish chipped. 

“And your voice…” Roman sighs, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. “You speak primarily with your lower jaw, making you look passive despite the often biting undertones. But there’s usually a lot of emotion. If not in your voice, in your words . You’re passionate about things, and are quick to defend them. Like your friends, and yourself.” 

Roman holds seven fingers up, but he’s nowhere near done. 

As Virgil’s hands dig into the sheets, Roman moves closer, adding “you’re smart, and exceed in your classes, even if you don’t tend to participate in group discussions. I’ve seen some of your tests being passed back. You always have upwards of eighty, while most others have seventy or less.” Then, Roman smiles, cheekily. “And try as you might, I see you doodle on your paper during class, or even on your hand with a marker. It always looks deep and interesting.” Roman takes Virgil’s hand, and pulls his arm closer, thumbing over his forearm where barely noticeable marker stains persist; little marks that Virgil didn’t even know were still visible. One would have to look hard to notice the darker splotches of skin. 

“You should show off your art more,” Roman says, softly. “I’m something of an artist myself. I’d appreciate it.” 

Virgil ignores him, instead breathing out “and… the last one?” 

He reaches to grab one of Roman’s pillows, squeezing it against his chest in anticipation as he looks over Roman’s nine fingers. There’s silence for a moment, before Roman grins, and sits back on his knees, clearly not intending to share the last one aloud. 

When Virgil realizes this, he huffs out “you’re such a jerk!” and then tosses the pillow he grabbed at Roman, this one getting closer, but still missing and landing on the pallet behind him. 

“Stop throwing all my pillows at me!” Roman laughs, as he tries to grab and hand the one just thrown back to Virgil. “You’re not going to have any to sleep with!” 

“You have plenty up here. I have many spares I can use to hit you in the face.” 

“You couldn’t hit me if we were standing chest-to-chest,” Roman insists, snickering. “Hell, I’m like five feet away from you and you’ve missed twice!” 

“Third time’s the charm,” Virgil mutters, as he lays back down, and then tosses and turns in the sheets. His smile fades to a more neutral expression, before he turns to face Roman, looking over the side of the bed. 

“Roman?” 

Roman, who’s laid back on the pallet, stretched out and arms behind his head, looks back up at Virgil, responding with a sweet “yes?” 

“I’m bored.” 

“You’re bored?” 

Virgil huffs out a laugh, before elaborating “I’m bored. Let’s go on a walk.” 

Roman raises an eyebrow. “So, let me get this straight, you’re not willing to be driven home this late at night, but you’re perfectly fine taking a walk?” He shakes his head. “That makes no sense.” 

“I’m complicated,” Virgil muses, which earns a laugh from Roman. 

“No,” he then responds, shaking his head with a hum. “No, I don’t think you’re complicated. I think you’re trying to be subtle.” His smile stretches into a more devious smirk. “I think you just secretly want to stay here with me, and that’s why you don’t want to go home.” Roman leans up, and his fingertips dance over Virgil’s, as Virgil’s arm hangs off the bed. “Just admit you enjoy spending time with me.”

Virgil lets out a groan, and very quickly grabs another pillow, and throws it down. This one smacks Roman right in the face, leaving Roman to let out a muffled “humphf!”

As Virgil snickers, Roman groans, and pulls the pillow off his face.

“Ugh! I’d be safer taking you on a walk than staying in here,” he jests, playfully. “At least there are no pillows for you to throw outside.” 

“There are rocks.”

Roman narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

Virgil sits up, and slides off the bed, landing on his knees at Roman’s side. “You’d really consider taking me on a walk, though?” 

“Of course,” Roman responds, immediately. “Why wouldn’t I? You ask, and you shall receive, my wonderful boyfriend!” Roman makes teasing kissy noises at Virgil, who immediately lets out a noise of disgust and scrambles away. 

 Virgil shudders, as though Roman grossed him out to his core. Sternly, he declares “don’t do that.” Roman smiles. 

He stands himself, and grabs Virgil’s hand, as he leads him out of his room. There’s a dim light on in the room next to Roman’s, but it’s ignored as Roman pulls him down the stairs and through the living room. Both of them are quiet, out of respect for Roman’s dads, as they slip out the front door. 

Quietly, Roman leads Virgil a little down the sidewalk, before he squeezes Virgil’s hand and smiles. 

“Alright,” Roman starts, his breath fogging due to the cool night’s air. “Anyplace specific you’d like to go?” 

Virgil takes a moment to answer, before whispering “anywhere you want to take me.” 

“Then we’ll just walk wherever the sidewalk takes us,” Roman decides, pulling Virgil forward. 

They walk slowly side by side, Roman humming a soft tune that sounds suspiciously like a rendition of “Once Upon A Dream” from Sleeping Beauty. Neither has let go of the other’s hand. 

Virgil is comfortable in the silence for a bit, before he suddenly clears his throat and goes “so… are you adopted?” 

Roman laughs aloud at the question, urging Virgil to quickly add “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to; I don’t mean to be nosey or insensitive.” 

“I don’t think you’re either,” Roman assures him, through a few loose chuckles. “I’m not adopted. Bruce is my step-dad. My dad and mom got divorced a couple years ago; Papa and Dad married earlier this year.” Roman sighs, though it’s hard to tell if it’s out of adoration, or disappointment. “They’re newlyweds.” 

Virgil nods, as Roman squeezes his hand again, before suddenly Roman’s tugging his arm a little harder. 

“All right, my turn. What are your parents like?” 

Virgil’s a bit surprised at the question, but after a moment he answers “it’s just me and my dad. My mom died when I was young. I don’t remember her at all.” They take a few steps in silence, before he adds “he never remarried. I don’t think he wants to, but I don’t see him much. He works out of the house, and when he has free time he chooses to travel. So he’s mostly out of state, really.”

“Do you wish he was home more?” 

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Virgil uncomfortably pulls his hand from Roman. 

“I guess? I don’t know him that well. We just sort of live our lives next to each other. We both have other things going on. Sure, he’s lonely, but I think if he rushed into things he’d be more unhappy. If he ever wants to get remarried, he deserves someone who loves him and wants to spend their life with him.” 

“You deserve that too,” Roman replies, in a hushed voice. Virgil turns to look at him, questioningly, prompting Roman to let out a nervous laugh. “Which is why you have me, of course! I’ll treat you like the prince that you are!” 

He leans forward and scoops Virgil up, tossing him effortlessly over his shoulder, earning at first a surprised gasp, and then a bout of laughter. 

“Roman!” Virgil shouts, squirming as Roman carries him like he’s a sack of flour. “Put me down!” 

“Never!” 

Virgil laughs some more as Roman starts to jog with him, bouncing him up and down. “If your goal is to treat me like a prince then you’re doing a horrible job!” 

“How about I do a little better, then?” 

Roman readjusts their positions, so that Virgil’s off his shoulder and now being cradled in his arms, held bridal-style. Virgil’s arms wrap around Roman’s neck, and he’s smiling dopily, though his face is flushed, something Virgil’s sure is obvious even in the darkness of night. 

He holds to Roman as Roman carries him forward, before suddenly he says “you can put me down now, Roman. I’m sure carrying me isn’t easy.” 

“You underestimate how strong I am,” Roman responds, grinning wide. 

“That’s not-” Virgil snorts, and tucks his face into Roman’s chest. Believe him, he can feel the muscle clearly beneath the thin fabric of Roman’s shirt. But that’s not the issue. “The thing is, I’m not… exactly the lightest person out there.” 

Sure, skinny jeans were a common piece of clothing present in his wardrobe, but the name was misleading. They’d be better off called “form-fitting” jeans, or “tight” jeans, and frankly Virgil’s pudgy stomach often hung over the waistline if he didn’t hoist them up past his belly-button! 

But Roman doesn’t bat an eye. 

“So?” he prompts, squeezing Virgil’s body in a manner that’s meant to be comforting, but just makes Virgil flush. “Once again, I’m very strong. I don’t care how much you weigh. As long as you’re not starving yourself or over-eating, and you’re healthy, I don’t care. And it’s not my business.” 

Roman then grins cheekily. “Isn’t that what you always say? That it’s not my business.” 

Virgil smiles, a bit sheepishly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, hiding his face further in Roman’s chest. “I suppose.” 

Roman carries him a few paces farther, before he softly asks “do you actually want to be set down? I won’t if you don’t want me to; I’ll hold you for as long as you’d like, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Yeah,” Virgil sighs. “I’m ready to keep walking.” As much as he enjoyed being carried, the action of being cradled flustered him.

Roman sets him back on his feet, and then shoves his hands into his pants pockets. Virgil flexes his fingers, before glancing at those very same pockets.

He decides to tap his fingers against his leg. 

“So…” 

Virgil turns to look at Roman, who’s clearly trying to think of a different conversation starter. He seems to debate a few, before settling on one, and continuing with “so, why did you say yes to my Oreo?” 

Fingers tapping harder against his thigh, Virgil shrugs. “I don’t know. I was angry?” 

He sounds very unsure of his answer, and that’s because he is. Sure, Virgil was angry. But that was only part of the reason. Impulsivity can only explain the initial acceptance; not anything that followed afterwards. 

“What were you angry about?” 

Virgil turns to look at Roman like he’s stupid. “I was angry over you, over Remus, over that stupid fucking game-” 

“You keep calling Oreo stupid,” Roman interrupts, bringing them to a halt on the sidewalk. He looks confused. “But, you’re actively playing. Forgive me for being puzzled, but why do you hate this game? And if you really hate it, then why even entertain the concept?” 

“To humiliate you,” Virgil responds, feeling his face warm with shame and humiliation at the admission, as though he’s finally admitting to the both of them that he’s out of Roman’s league. Roman stays quiet, giving Virgil the space to look away and suck a deep breath in. “It’s… it’s insulting to the people you ask out sometimes,” Virgil further clarifies, gritting his teeth. “Usually, when someone loses, their friends either pick out some secret crush they haven’t confessed to, or someone gross they think will embarrass them.” 

He kicks a rock, and shoves his hands into his own pockets. “And… and Remus told you to ask me.” 

He steps forward, but Roman catches his arm. 

“Virgil… I didn’t know.” 

Scoffing, Virgil tries to pull his arm away, and Roman does in fact let him go, but he moves to stand by Virgil’s side. 

“Virgil, genuinely. I didn’t know. I guess I never thought about it from that perspective. I can see how that’d be degrading.” 

Glancing upwards, Virgil sees Roman’s brows furrowed in concentration as he seemingly processes what Virgil told him. There’s no doubt, or malice. Just… contemplation. 

Roman’s fingers graze Virgil’s knuckles. 

Their hands once again fold together, fingers sliding into crevices until their palms are pressed against each other. They turn on the sidewalk, and start heading back the way they came without a word.

It’s only when they’re right outside the front door that Roman speaks again. As he slowly twists the doorknob, he looks back at Virgil. 

“You don’t humiliate me, by the way,” he says, softly. “And it makes me sad that you think so little of yourself in order to believe that.” 

Then he’s opening the front door and holding it chivalrously as Virgil walks inside, hunched over, as though trying to make himself appear smaller. He doesn’t say much as he heads back up to Roman’s room, but there isn’t much he thinks needs to be said. But he does think he’s going to lay down and try and get some more sleep. If not to make sure he’s well rested, then to simply avoid looking at Roman, who silently tucks himself into the pallet on the floor, leaving Virgil wide-eyed and alone with his thoughts snug in Roman’s bed. 

Chapter Text

A loud bang wakes both Virgil and Roman up at the same time following the aftermath of their late night, leaving Virgil heaving as he bolts upright, attempting to catch his breath after being startled conscious, while Roman immediately juts his bottom lip out and dramatically flings his blankets away, before turning and stomping towards his door. 

“You could stand to be a little quieter, you know!” Roman prissily shouts, pulling his door halfway open. In response, heavy footsteps come running down the hall, followed by Remus suddenly jumping on Roman, tackling him to the ground.

Virgil crawls to the edge of the bed and watches the two tussle, with Roman rolling them over and easily keeping Remus pressed to the ground, but that angle just allows Remus to spot Virgil, which immediately has Remus grinning and squirming to get away. Roman lets him go, despite Virgil’s immediate anxiety at the sight. 

“Woah!” Remus exclaims, making a mad dash for Virgil - who scrambles as far back on the bed as he can go. 

Remus reaches the edge of the bed and slams his hands down against it, rapidly looking between Virgil and Roman. He snorts. " Geez, Roman. When I dared you to ask this loser out I didn’t expect a whole relationship to blossom out of it.” 

“Stop, Remus,” Roman sternly says, a lot more serious than he was mere seconds ago. 

Remus turns to look at Roman over his shoulder, a sick grin on his face, before looking back at Virgil. “You’re all snuggled up in his bed, huh? You think he likes you?” 

“Remus-” Roman is grabbing Remus’s upper arm and pulling him back, before pushing him back towards the door. “Out.” 

“Is he going to be here later?” Remus asks, as he’s shoved rather firmly out past Roman’s bedroom door. He lingers in the hallway to add in a sing-song voice “I’ve got some mandatory tutoring after school and - if you’ve ever watched a good porno - you’d know things might get a little freaky!”

Roman slams his door shut. 

Virgil’s hand is pressed against his chest, eyes wide and focused on the comforter he’s kneeling on. Roman stands at his bedroom door for a few moments, breathing deep, before turning back to Virgil. 

“I’m so sorry,” Roman says, as he moves towards Virgil, but as his fingers slide against Virgil’s shoulder, Virgil hits him away. 

He doesn’t say anything; he just gets up and slides out of bed, before shoving his hand down the side of his jeans, pulling the seams away from his legs. Sleeping in them was the worst mistake he could have possibly made, though it’s not like he had any other option. 

There’s silence between them, and it hangs heavily in the air. For about a minute, they just stand there, both of them avoiding looking at each other, until finally Roman’s alarm rings and breaks the silence. 

Roman quickly turns it off, and softly says “we have to get ready.” 

Virgil sneers immediately. “I don’t have anything to get ready with.” 

Roman comes around Virgil’s side and gives him a small smile, though Virgil doesn’t return it. “You can borrow my comb,” he offers, as he gently takes Virgil’s hand. “And I keep spare toothbrushes under my sink.” Roman guides Virgil through a side-door, and into a conjoined bathroom. 

He directs Virgil to a lower cabinet. “There,” he says, as he grabs a rag and wets it with warm water. 

Upon opening it, Virgil does indeed find a collection of unused, multi-coloured toothbrushes with toothbrush covers clamped on every one of them sitting inside a small white vase. There was also a collection of cleaning products, bath salts, and other luxuries. Virgil grabs a purple toothbrush.

“Why do you have so many toothbrushes?” Virgil asks, as he runs the bristles beneath the running faucet. Looking around for toothpaste, Roman hands him a tube. He puts some on his brush, runs it under some more water, and then starts brushing his teeth. 

“A lot of my buddies don’t remember to bring theirs over when they sleep over,” Roman explains, as he grabs his own toothbrush. His vibrates. “And I absolutely can’t stand bad breath. Especially because they’re really into invading personal space.” 

Virgil spits into the sink, before mumbling “gross.” 

They finish brushing their teeth, and then Virgil haphazardly runs Roman’s comb through his bangs before handing it to Roman who picks it clean of loose strands before more carefully working it through his own hair. Virgil stares at him for a moment, before leaving the bathroom, and searching for his phone. 

He digs around the bed sheets, thinking it probably slipped out of his pocket or something, only to see it plugged in on the floor, next to Roman’s phone which is a lot nicer, and also plugged in with a separate cord. 

Frowning, Virgil snatches his phone off the charger. 

He sits on the edge of Roman’s bed, turning his cell on and clicking around mindlessly on a few apps, before his phone lights up with a text from Janus. 

‘If you don’t come downstairs and answer your door, I'm going to break through your window.’ 

Virgil stares at the text for a second, before snorting and pinching the bridge of his nose. It takes him a few minutes to respond, but eventually sucks it up and says ‘i’m not at my house. you and Logan can just head to school.’ 

Janus responds almost instantaneously. ‘Where are you?’ followed by ‘Did you run off to join your estranged father on vacation?’

‘funny.’ Virgil’s fingers are rough against the keyboard. ‘no.’ 

‘Then where are you?’ 

Virgil hesitates. He looks over his shoulder and back towards the bathroom, where he catches Roman applying cream to his face, rubbing it firm into his tan skin. After a few seconds though, he looks towards Virgil, and smiles when their eyes meet. Virgil quickly looks away, and quickly replies ‘Roman’s.’ 

Janus is quiet for a few moments, with three dots popping up, disappearing, and then popping up again. Virgil can only imagine what he’s going to say. 

‘You DO like him’ Janus texts, with ‘I fucking knew it!’ following it up. 

‘i’m only here because he invited me over.’ 

‘So? You still accepted the invite.’ 

Roman comes into the room to grab a change of clothes. He and Virgil again look at each other, before Roman gives a meek smile. 

“You can wear some of my clothes, if you want,” Roman offers. “I don’t know how well they’d fit, but that way you wouldn’t have to go in what you slept in.” 

Virgil scoffs. Roman’s clothes wouldn’t fit him at all. “I’ll pass.” 

Roman heads back into the bathroom, presumably to change. Virgil looks back down at his phone. 

‘You still accepted the invite’ Janus argues. 

More defensive now, Virgil replies ‘i didn’t want to go home and be alone.’ 

‘You could’ve come over here.’ Janus punctuates his message with a broken heart emoji, sent solely to make Virgil cringe. ‘To my house, I mean. Me and Logan would have loved to have you over.’ 

‘and interfere with the plants you guys had already made? no thanks.’

‘“Plans,”’ Janus repeats, and Virgil can only imagine him rolling his eyes at his phone screen, not dissimilar to how Virgil was rolling his eyes at Janus’s words. 

‘We’ll discuss this at school’ Janus then insists, making Virgil groan. ‘Don’t be late again.’ 

Roman emerges from his bathroom properly dressed, and tosses his clothes from the night before in a nearby hamper. He grabs his phone from his charger, and then gathers his bag.

“You ready?” he asks Virgil, who clicks his phone off, as though embarrassed at the idea of Roman looking over his shoulder to find Janus mocking them for hanging out. 

“I guess.”

Roman leads Virgil outside and to his car, making small talk as they get in, though Virgil doesn’t seem too keen on reciprocating his formalities. 

“Can’t believe the week’s almost over,” Roman says, in an attempt to make conversation. “It’s already Friday.” 

“Yup.” Virgil leans against the window as Roman starts the car. 

“Would you… would you want to do anything with me this weekend?”

“I already spent last night with you,” Virgil bitterly responds. “Isn’t that enough?” He turns to look at Roman, who’s staring out the windshield. His lips are pressed into a thin line. He glances over at Virgil, and quickly looks away. 

Virgil shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and sort of half-heartedly adds “I… I also don’t know if I’ll have stuff going on or not. Like… my dad could come home, or Janus could come over… just… yeah.” 

“Well, if you don’t have anything going on….” 

Virgil sighs. “I’ll think about it.” 

Roman smiles, and reaches over to grab Virgil’s hand, causing Virgil to look down at their entwined fingers. Roman had been holding his hand a lot lately. Not like Virgil minded. 

Virgil then cringes. He didn’t mind? 

He flexes his fingers, feeling them start to sweat, but Roman doesn’t mind, and just gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. They stay affectionate up until Roman pulls into the school parking lot, which is when Virgil finally wrangles his hand out of Roman’s grasp. 

Roman glances at him, and then chuckles. “What? Embarrassed?” 

“Yes.” 

 Roman laughs as he exits his car, with Virgil throwing his door open before Roman can circle around the side to chivalrously open it. 

Virgil hurries away from Roman as Roman tries to walk beside him, but eventually their paths diverge and they both head towards their own lockers. Unfortunately, Virgil finds Janus waiting for him at his. 

Smugly, Janus begins with “so.” 

“So,” Virgil mockingly repeats, as he opens his locker up. Janus sneaks around it so that he can gauge Virgil’s facial expressions as Virgil grabs some folders from his locker. 

“What did you and Roman do last night?” 

Janus’s innocent tone contrasts with the mischievously nosey expression on his face. 

Rolling his eyes, Virgil truthfully responds with “I took a nap and then we went on a walk. That’s it. 

Janus groans. “That’s it? That’s so… underwhelming.” 

Pushing his locker shut, Virgil turns to Janus, his annoyed expression shifting into one that’s calmer. Sure, Janus is teasing him, but Virgil can appreciate the lack of judgement from him, especially considering the few stares he gets even without Roman at his side. 

“What did you and Logan do?” Virgil asks, in an attempt to change the topic. “Anything exciting?” 

“No, unfortunately not.” Janus walks slowly with Virgil, who eases up his typically fast-paced gait to accommodate. Janus’s lips are thinly pressed together, as if suppressing groans of pain with each shuffle forward. “He helped me with some homework, and then I made him dinner. We sat on my roof for a bit. Nothing special.” 

Virgil hums. 

Janus, however, directs the topic back to Roman, though now it seems like it’s solely to feed his own curiosity. “What was his house like?” 

“Big.” 

“Was Remus there?”

“Only this morning.”

“What were his parents like?” 

Virgil adjusts the straps of his bag. “They were sweet. Talkative. Gay.”

Janus smiles, nodding, as though pleased by this revelation. “All good things, it seems.” 

As they near their classroom, Janus suddenly slows to a stop. He glances around, attempting to avoid any eavesdropping ears, before lowering his voice and asking “did you guys sleep in the same bed?”

Virgil immediately shakes his head. “No. Hell no. He slept on the floor.  

“And let you sleep on the bed!” Janus gasps, before dramatically sighing “what a gentleman!” Upon seeing Virgil frown, Janus snickers and continues his line of questioning. “What about your guys' walk? Did you kiss under the moonlight?”

"No."

"Did you hug under the moonlight?"

"Nope."

"Did you at least hold hands under the moonlight?" 

Virgil bites his lip, and Janus gasps again.

“Premarital hand-holding!” Janus accuses him, before shaking his head in playful disapproval. “Virgil, I honestly expected better from you!” 

“He grabbed my hand!” 

Virgil intentionally excludes the part where Roman lifted and held him. 

Janus elbows Virgil’s side. “I think that means he likes you, too.” 

“I don’t like him at all!” Virgil argues, pushing Janus away from him. “And he doesn’t like me. He’s just entertaining this stupid… idiotic… childish game! The moment things are broken off, it’ll all stop.” 

“Sure it will,” Janus sings, before stepping into the classroom, and settling down at his desk. Virgil looks towards his own seat, and frowns when he sees Roman sitting in a chair in front of it, already turned around and facing where Virgil will inevitably be sitting. 

Virgil trudges to his seat, where Roman’s smiling at him. 

“Do you want to go see a movie tonight?” he asks, before Virgil’s even sat down fully. 

“What?” Virgil asks, as he settles into his desk. “What made you think of taking me to see a movie?” 

“Remus mentioned a really good horror movie that was coming out soon, and I was hoping you’d go see it with me.” 

“I hate horror movies.” 

Roman sighs in relief. “Oh, thank god. I hate them too.” Roman laughs softly. “I would have sat through one with you, obviously, but admittedly blood freaks me out. And knowing Remus, horror and gore are basically a two-for-one deal.” 

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “Why?” 

“Hm?” 

Virgil plays with his hands under his desk. “Why would you sit through a horror movie? If you knew it’d freak you out, then why even risk going to see it?” 

“Because if you liked it, then it’s just an hour or two of discomfort.” 

“That’s… that’s weird.” Virgil’s eyebrow is raised, staring at Roman in a mixture of surprise and confusion. “You shouldn’t do that. You shouldn’t force yourself to be uncomfortable for my benefit. Or for- for anyone’s benefit.” 

Roman chews his inner cheek, looking suddenly troubled. He avoids Virgil’s eyes. 

Suddenly, Virgil feels an urge for things to be more light-hearted again. He doesn’t much like Roman without a smile on his face; it feels… bad. 

“If you can find another movie, though, I’ll consider going with you,” Virgil says, shrugging. He looks to the side and sees Janus, who’s leaning forward on his desk with his head resting atop his knuckles, smirking at Virgil’s words. Virgil’s face immediately goes bright red in embarrassment, but Roman’s countenance lights up in excitement. 

It has Virgil hiding his face. He doesn’t understand why Roman is so excited over this. 

He’s probably just happy to be getting out of his house, Virgil tells himself. Most people would be. He isn’t excited to see a movie with me. He’s excited to see a movie in general. 

“Can Logan and I come, too?” Janus suddenly asks, causing Virgil to raise his head in surprise. He himself is relieved at the question, but nervously looks towards Roman. Much to his surprise, Roman seems excited at the prospect. 

“Of course!” Roman replies, leaning closer to Virgil. “You can help us decide on a movie. Is that okay, Virge?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Virgil mumbles, looking between Janus’s winking face and Roman’s excited one, before nodding, “but yeah, that’s fine. That sounds fine. If Logan’s fine with it then sure, I’m fine with it.”

“Logan will be fine with it,” Janus quickly assures him. “As long as we don’t watch something stupid.” 

He pulls his phone out, presumably to text Logan, while Virgil turns to Roman, who seems overly gleeful at this opportunity. He reaches across the desk to grab Virgil’s hands, and squeezes them. Virgil flushes, but doesn’t pull his hands away, letting Roman simply caress his knuckles and gaze at him until the first period bell finally rings. 

Chapter Text

“He’s running late,” Virgil hisses as he sits on Logan’s porch. Janus sits next to him on his phone, and Logan sits next to Janus with a book out. 

“He’s not running late,” Logan objects, flipping to a new page. “The movie doesn’t start until six. It’s only 5:30.” 

“That doesn’t even factor in the previews,” Janus adds, nudging Virgil playfully in the side. “The trailers and advertisements start at six; the movie itself probably won’t even play until a quarter past.” 

Virgil’s leg jumps as he sits. “I’d still prefer we leave early.” 

Janus gives him a smirk. “Why? Excited to meet up with your boyfriend? It was very kind of him to offer to pick us all up; you might want to consider thanking him somehow. Like with a kiss, perhaps-?” 

Virgil shoves Janus away, scooting away from both him and Logan. Janus snickers openly at his groan of disgust, while Logan presses the back of his hand to his mouth in order to hide his amusement (though, in Virgil’s opinion, he’s doing a terrible job). 

“What movie are we seeing anyway?” Logan asks, though he doesn’t really sound like he cares - more like he’s just trying to move on. “I believe we decided against the horror one?”

“Roman said it’s called ‘The Misadventures Of Ms. Marjorie,’ or something,” Virgil answers, pulling his knees to his chest. “I think it’s some stupid kids movie, but there isn’t really anything else playing.” 

“It’s a musical,” Janus further explains, turning to Logan. He shows Logan his phone, which has a synopsis of the film pulled up. Logan sets his book down on his legs in order to properly read through it, and seems to glance back up at Janus, before nodding in appreciation. 

Virgil meanwhile pushes his head into his hands with a groan. “Is it?” he responds, sounding more aggravated by the minute. “I can’t believe that’s what you and Roman decided on.” 

“It’s less stupid than plotless gore,” Logan replies. “It would have been dull watching poorly-achieved special effects splatter around what’s supposed to be a bloody scene. That, or outright bad computer-generated imagery used to create what could otherwise be done ten times better with props. At least a kids movie will have a story to follow along.” 

Grumbling under his breath, Virgil really has no counter and so just makes a few angry noises to just his discontent, though he’s mostly ignored by the other two. 

His phone sits right beside him, and he subconsciously keeps his hand rested on it, waiting absentmindedly for any vibrations. And when it does vibrate, he has it up within seconds, unlocking it and pulling down his notification bar in hopes Roman has some explanation for why he’s still not here… twenty till. 

Instead, there’s a message from Virgil’s father. 

‘I’m sending you grocery money. Extending my vacation by another week or two. Love you,’ followed by Virgil getting another notification of money being sent to his account. It’s enough to cover groceries - enough to cover a month’s worth of groceries in Virgil’s case - and it makes Virgil click his phone off and drop it back onto the porch, pulling his legs tighter to his body as he tucks his face into his knees and stares barely over them out towards the road. 

Janus and Logan are talking quietly beside him, as they’ve both set down their entertainment in favor of each other’s company, but Virgil can’t find the energy to join them. 

At 5:50 is when Logan starts to look a little antsy, and leans forward a bit to direct his words to Virgil as he asks “any word from Roman? At this point we’re set to miss the trailers, and I’m not too thrilled with that notion.” 

Virgil gives a half hearted shrug. “I don’t know.” 

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Can you check?” 

Staring at him, Virgil feels the brash impulse to chuck his phone at Logan and make him check, or ask why they can’t communicate with Roman considering they had no qualms regarding tagging along, but instead he just bites his tongue and lifts his phone briefly. Seeing no new notifications, he curtly responds “he hasn’t said a thing.” 

Reaching towards Virgil, Janus sets a comforting hand on his upper arm, which encourages Virgil to take in a deep breath. 

Focusing on breathing for just a moment, Virgil immediately finds himself feeling a little better, and so adds quietly “I’ll… I’ll send him a text, and ask what’s taking him so long.”

“You did remember to give him Logan’s address, right?” Janus jokes, which has Virgil frowning at him, but relaxing nonetheless. 

But as he pulls up Roman’s contact in preparation to text, a familiar white car comes rolling slowly into view, with it parking on the curb shortly after. As it stops, Logan and Janus look towards Virgil for affirmation that this is in fact Roman, and the flush on Virgil’s cheeks says everything they need to know. 

“¡Mi vida!” Roman calls, waving towards Virgil, and hurries towards the porch. “I’m sorry I took so long.” 

Virgil stands immediately, and avoids Roman’s affectionate hands, making a beeline towards the car instead. “It’s fine,” he sharply replies, in a way that lets Roman know it’s in fact not fine. “Let’s just hurry and get there before we end up missing the movie.” 

He gets into the passenger seat and watches Roman through the window as he talks a moment more to Logan and Janus, before they follow suit to the car as well. Janus and Logan slide in the back, while Roman gets into the driver’s seat, buckling up and checking around to make sure everyone’s done the same. He then flashes Virgil a sweet smile that Virgil responds to with a piercing glare.

“I am really sorry I’m late,” Roman begins again, as he starts the car. He speeds a bit down the block in an attempt to make up for lost time, though it just makes Virgil feel carsick as they hit a few turns too fast. “Remus’s tutor ended up having to cancel, and there was a whole issue between our mom and dad involving… custody stuff.” Roman looks uncomfortable, even while walking through the rather vague explanation. It has Virgil actually turning to him with a bit more curiosity, but Roman stares straight ahead at the road, lips pressed shut. Displaying visible discomfort, Roman didn’t look as though he was going to elaborate any further. 

And so Virgil shifts away again and musters up a meager “okay.” 

The car ride is silent past that point, with not even Janus and Logan making conversation in the back. The air is thick, and Virgil’s fingers run along the window’s buttons, debating whether or not he should roll them down to try and make things feel less hot and cramped. 

However, he doesn’t get the opportunity to before they’re pulling into the movie theatre parking lot. 

“Ha!” Roman exclaims, as he shifts the car into park. “We’re here! And with five minutes to spare! That’s plenty of time to get concessions and get settled!” 

“I’ll pass on the concessions,” Logan says, as he steps out and onto the asphalt. “I’d rather get into our auditorium as soon as possible.” 

Circling around the car, Janus stands a bit too close to Logan as he nods and says “I’m with Logan on this one. I’m not necessarily hungry for oversalted popcorn anyway.” 

Roman smiles at them as he moves towards Virgil, bringing out his wallet and pulling out two twenty dollar bills. Passing them to Janus and Logan, he explains “I assume we’re all going to sit together, but because I’d like food you guys can just buy your tickets separately. That way you won’t have to wait up.” 

Janus immediately plucks the money from Roman’s hands, as Logan can’t help smiling and thanking him for his consideration. Virgil frowns. 

With Logan and Janus walking ahead of them, Roman keeps at Virgil’s sluggish pace, and links their fingers together without hesitation. The action causes Virgil to whip his head towards Roman, hissing out an embarrassed “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” which just has Roman giving him a shy smile. 

“Well,” Roman answers, cheeks pink, “this is like a date.” 

“We’ve already been on a ‘date’ asshole; I don’t understand why you’re smiling like a dope.” 

Roman shrugs. “That was like… a trial date. This is like a date date.” 

“There’s no difference.” 

Cheesing from ear to ear, Roman responds “there totally is.” 

By the time the two of them step inside, Logan and Janus are already making their way down the hallway in line to their theatre, though Virgil watches Janus glance back and smirk at them as he sees their hands intertwined. Virgil is almost tempted to rip free of Roman’s hold, but doesnt, and instead lets Roman lead him to the concession counter. 

Virgil pulls out his phone while Roman strikes up a short but friendly conversation with the worker, before he tells Roman what seats Logan and Janus got so they can sit by them. Getting a good look at the concession screen, Virgil can see the theatre is completely empty, which does make him feel a little better. Then Roman’s ordering a large popcorn and two drinks, before nodding towards the candy racks. 

“Hungry for chocolate or anything?” he asks, though he seems more like he’s encouraging Virgil to grab something as opposed to just merely asking. 

Virgil doesn’t answer him verbally, but reaches over to grab sour Airhead bites, which he tosses onto the counter with a grunt. 

Seemingly pleased, Roman hands Virgil the two empty cups. “Could you please get me cherry coke? And then you can get whatever you’d like,” which has Virgil walking off immediately to go do as he’s told, giving them both a little ice and a lot of soda as Roman finishes up his transaction. He comes over while Virgil’s pressing the lids on and then trades Virgil the drinks for the popcorn. 

“I’m not sure how you like your popcorn, so butter and salt how you’d like!” 

“I don’t care how it’s done.” 

Roman seems to soften a bit, and his smile falls as he places the drinks on the counter. He sets a hand on Virgil’s upper arm. “If you don’t want to be here, we don’t have to be. We can go home if that'll make you happier.” 

Virgil feels guilt swell in his gut as his head falls away from Roman’s gaze. Wordlessly, he pushes the tub under the butter machine, and moves it around so that the entire top layer is coated. He then gives it a little shake in an attempt to mix it around, before adding a few dashes of salt and setting it before Roman, as if presenting it to him. 

“The stuff underneath won’t be as good, but whatever,” he says, which again has Roman frowning. 

“Virgil, I’m serious. We don’t have to stay.” 

Uncomfortably shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, Virgil wraps his arms around himself. “Are you wanting to leave? Because I never said I wanted to.” 

“You just…” Roman trails off, and then also looks away with a sigh. “You just look miserable. If you stay here while upset, you're just going to end up associating this place with feeling upset. Or… or me with being upset. I don’t want to be the first thing you think of when you feel bad, and I never want to keep you somewhere that’s making you feel that way.” 

Roman’s phone vibrates in his pocket, which briefly throws him off, but he ends up shrugging it off and pushing Virgil’s drink towards him. 

“Please… do you actually want to stay?” 

Virgil stares at the drink, and then takes it. Though it’s difficult, he ends up giving Roman a small smile. “Yeah. I want to stay. There’s just… a lot going on.” 

Groaning playfully - seemingly relieved by the tonal shift - Roman goes “tell me about it,” and then chuckles to himself. His ease regarding the situation does help alleviate some of Virgil’s own tension, and he watches as Roman grabs three straws. He gives Virgil one, and takes one for himself of course, before winking at Virgil as he slides the third into the popcorn. Then, he very carefully positions it under the butter dispenser and pushes the button, causing the butter to spill down and into the straw, where it’s efficiently and cleanly transported to the popcorn at the bottom of the tub. And Roman lifts the straw slightly until he’s sure the middle is coated too, and then gives the tub a few more shakes. 

He then proudly lifts the tub up. “There! Now it should all be just as delicious as the top!” 

Virgil can’t help but snicker at his dramatics. He grabs his coke and candy, and walks with Roman to their theatre. “Where’d you learn to do that?” 

Roman doesn’t answer for a moment, his smile seeming a bit more forced now, before blinking twice and responding “my mom. She was a stickler for making sure the popcorn was all properly coated. Before the butter machines were moved to the self-serve counter, she used to terrorize the concessionists to make sure they did it right. Everyone was relieved when it became a do-it-yourself thing.” 

Virgil bumps lightly against Roman’s side as they walk, and neither of them say anything more. 

Once they get to their seats, the lights have already dimmed and the trailers are playing. Janus and Logan are talking between each other, but both greet the duo when they arrive. Virgil sits between Janus and Roman, with Roman and Logan sitting on the outsides. They’re in the middle of this otherwise completely barren auditorium, making it feel a lot more vast than it actually is. 

All of the previews that play are brightly-coloured, animated PG films that Virgil really has no interest in, but Roman sets the popcorn in his lap and then whispers in his ear a variety of praises, ranging from “the animation in that one is extremely experimental, and I really like it,” to “the CG there looks kind of average, but I’ve heard the story’s going to be really good,” which encourages Virgil to pay more attention to the preshow. He starts to notice the nuances in character movements he wouldn’t have picked up on otherwise, or certain words that the characters say that apparently allude to earlier movies, and when the previews end, Virgil almost wishes they weren’t late getting here so he could have seen more of them. 

The lights in the theatre darken completely as the movie starts, with all four of them reclining their seats back to get comfortable. Janus reaches over to take a handful of popcorn. And then the studio’s logos flash across the screen, leading into a live-action film with a very bubbly undertone, similar to Mary Poppins but somehow even more whimsical. 

“What’s the plot of this movie again?” Virgil quietly inquires as the main character - presumably Marjorie - starts singing. 

“Marjorie falls into another world and has to adjust to the crazy rules implemented there,” Roman explains, as he takes a sip of his coke. “Think about like… Where the Wild Things Are but with less of a ‘home is where the heart is’ moral. This is more so about how being curious is a good thing, with a dash of learning to question authority.” 

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “That feels like a rather complex message for a musical.” 

Roman smiles wide. “I know, right?! People think kids are a lot dumber than they actually are. A lot of them internalize the actions of those they look up to, including figures in media! If they see Marjorie questioning ‘well, why do we do this?’ then they’ll mimic it, which’ll help them learn more about the world! It’s actually really thoughtful…” 

Sensing there’s more to that sentence, Virgil goes to ask Roman to elaborate, but he hears Roman’s phone vibrate against the seat before he can. 

Roman’s cheeks go red in embarrassment as everyone turns to look at him, and he apologizes as he quickly fumbles to pull it out. He doesn’t silence his phone as he clicks it on, instead checking a notification. Virgil doesn’t mean to snoop, but can’t help noticing a message that says ‘You have to come over. You’re a kid, Roman, you have no choice in the matter.’ 

Roman’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the spit in his mouth before he shuts his screen off and slides it between his thighs, so that he can feel it if it goes off again, but so it won’t make a noise. He then turns back to Virgil with a weak smile. 

“Sorry,” he says, “what was I saying?” 

“Kids will echo what they see in movies?” 

“Right! Yes, well… not every child has a good role model to look up to, which is why some kids grow up acting… bad.” Roman sounds like he has someone in mind. “Of course, you’re responsible for the things you choose to do, but not everyone knows better, if that makes sense. Sometimes it’s all they’ve seen. And that’s why people like Marjorie-” Roman waves his hand towards the screen, where Marjorie is in the middle of skipping through her daily routine, smiling at the people she walks past and buying a hot dog for a kid who lost his money, “ -are more important than people realize.” 

Staring, Virgil just watches the way Roman’s eyebrows crease. He’s still smiling, but he doesn’t look happy. 

“... Do you wish there were more people in the theatre?” Virgil then asks. 

Seemingly surprised at the question, Roman doesn’t have an immediate answer, but after a moment nods his head. “I do. Though, this movie has been out for a while. There was a chance it was popular when it first came out, and the lines slowly dwindled as more and more people came to see it.” 

“That makes sense.” 

Roman seems pleased at Virgil’s understanding, and then turns back to the movie. He takes some popcorn into his hand - letting Virgil keep the tub even when Virgil attempts to give it back - and tries to stay focused on the screen. 

But as Virgil watches Roman in his peripheral - weirdly focused on him instead of the film - he watches as Roman checks his phone again. And then again twenty minutes later. And the third time it happens, and Roman unlocks his phone, Virgil can’t help but read over his shoulder. 

He can’t see well in his current position, but he does see ‘...if you don’t, I’ll take David back to court’ followed by ‘do you not love me? Is that why you won’t come?’ and then ‘it’s that failure of a brother of yours poisoning your mind. You know I love you, Roman, I just want what’s best.’ 

Roman starts typing, but his thumbs quickly still. When Virgil looks up from his phone and to Roman’s face, he sees tears welling up in Roman’s eyes. 

Hearing the faint vibration in Roman’s hands, he turns his attention back to the screen to see ‘I’m your mother, Roman.’ 

Phone screen shaking slightly, Virgil can see that Roman’s trembling. His other hand is pressed over his mouth, and he’s fighting back tears - a feat that is only impressive for a few seconds until inevitably they fall past his cheeks and onto his laps with every blink of his eyelids. He’s silent, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less… terrified. His chest rapidly rises and falls, as if he’s struggling to breathe. If Virgil could hear him, he’s sure Roman would sound like he was gasping for air. 

Before he realizes what he’s doing, Virgil reaches over and sets his hand atop Roman’s, subsequently covering up the screen. 

Roman immediately turns to him with wide eyes, and is quick to turn away again to wipe his face. He smiles at Virgil - a smile that’d be rather convincing under different circumstances - and opens his mouth to apologize, but Virgil is shoving the half-empty popcorn tub into Roman’s hands before he gets the chance. 

“Let’s go get a refill,” he whispers, and Roman shuts his mouth and nods. 

Virgil grabs both of their drinks as Roman carries the tub out, and they convene at the self-serve counter. Roman’s quiet, and Virgil is at first as well, until he’s done filling their drinks up. 

“Are you… going to take the popcorn up for a refill?” Virgil asks, which has Roman - who was just staring at the tub - nodding absentmindedly. His thoughts are clearly elsewhere, and Virgil can imagine why, so he walks beside Roman as they pass their popcorn to the concessionist. It’s filled and handed back, but instead of going back to the movie, Virgil guides Roman to sit on a bench right outside their auditorium. 

He then passes Roman his coke. “Drink,” he instructs, and Roman does. Then, he picks up a few pieces of popcorn and brings it to his own mouth, before motioning for Roman to do the same with the simple encouragement of “eat.” 

That has Roman shaking his head. “I’m not hungry right now,” he replies, sympathetically. 

“Eat,” Virgil further pushes. “Trust me… just for right now. At least a handful. And then you won’t have to eat anymore if you don’t want to.” 

Roman looks unsure of Virgil’s words, but he doesn’t seem to have the energy to argue, and so does as Virgil wants and eats a handful of popcorn. He chews slowly, and wipes the excess salt on his pants, but after he’s swallowed he looks back towards Virgil. 

“Why’d you want me to eat?” he asks, and Virgil can see that though Roman’s eyes still shimmer with noticeable wetness, they’re at least not filled with full-on tears. 

Sighing, Virgil scoots a bit closer to him on the bench, letting their shoulders touch. “It’s… it’s like…” Virgil struggles for a moment, as he places his own drink between his thighs, resting his hands on the sides of it and rubbing over the condensation that drips slowly down the sides. “It’s like… a grounding mechanism? Typically when people get anxious or panicked it triggers a primal fight or flight response, even if there’s no one to fight and nothing to flee from. And because it’s a response that we had hundreds of years ago to protect us from danger, there are sometimes really simple ways to calm down following it. So your brain thinks ‘hey, if we’re running from something, we don’t have the time or safety to stop and eat,’ so if you sit down and eat something, it can help calm you down because your brain will realize that if you’re safe enough to eat, then you’re safe overall…” Virgil folds his hands around his cup, and weakly adds “does that make sense? Logan could probably explain it a lot better than I could… but it typically helps me, so I thought maybe it’d help you.”

Roman’s quiet, but after a moment eats another few pieces of popcorn, and then gives Virgil a closed-mouth smile. “Yeah. It helped.” 

Virgil glances towards him, away, and then towards him again. 

“We can… we can go back into the theatre if you want. Or we can stay out here. It’s up to you.” 

Roman smiles wider, more embarrassed this time. “It’s up to you, actually. I’ve seen this movie before.” 

“You have?” 

Roman nods. “I didn’t want to just tell you outright because I didn’t want you to think I’d be bored by the film or anything, but I came to see it when it first came out. I love animation of course, but I also love musicals, and this movie was getting high reviews from critics so I thought I’d come and see it myself.” 

Virgil reaches for some popcorn. “And you liked it enough to come see it a second time?” 

“Yes.” 

When Virgil doesn’t respond to that immediately, Roman awkwardly laughs and ends up further insisting “but really it’s only because there was nothing else playing. If you and Janus and Logan didn’t come to the movies, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with it.” 

“If you like it, then there’s no problem with you coming to see it again.” Virgil squeezes his coke, and ends up playing with the straw with his fingers. “When I was little, I used to have a stack of burnt DVDs. Apparently they belonged to my mom, but a lot of the movies were kid films, so they were entertaining enough to keep child me occupied. Well, one of the DVDs was The Nightmare Before Christmas. I don’t know if you can tell, but that’s exactly the kind of movie I would like.” 

Roman chuckles at Virgil’s words, and so Virgil relaxes further against him. 

“I watched it over and over again on loop. Of course, there were skips caused by scratches on the back of the disc - I was a child after all, and was left with a DVD that had no case to go with it - but it was watchable for a good long while. So believe me when I say I get wanting to watch a movie you like a few times over. Sometimes multiple watches help you appreciate nuances you didn’t see before.”

Roman’s hand creeps into Virgil’s lap, slowly guiding Virgil’s fingers away from his cup and entwining their digits together. 

“I think you’re very smart,” Roman says, quietly. “Thank you for sitting out here with me. Even though I totally would have generously gone and got us refills myself if you’d have let me.”

Virgil snickers, and pushes Roman away, saying “well, in that case, I’m sure you won’t mind properly buttering the popcorn then.” 

Huffing, Roman stands with the tub. “You just want to get me off the bench.” 

“Oh? Are you not feeling so ‘generous’ anymore?” 

“You’re lucky I-” 

Roman cuts himself off abruptly, cheeks going dark red, and gives Virgil a proper, cheeky smile as he scoots off without another word. Virgil watches him from afar as he heads down the hallway, and leans a bit to try and catch bits of Roman’s body peek into view as he moves about the self-serve counter. 

He’s so caught up with watching, in fact, that he doesn’t notice Janus and Logan leaving the theatre until Janus taps him on the shoulder, startling him and causing him to nearly crush his drink between his thighs. 

“You missed the end of the movie,” Janus says, as he grins at Virgil’s embarrassed display. 

“Got too caught up talking,” Virgil admits in reply, grumbling under his breath. “Didn’t realize how long it’d been.” 

“Shame,” Janus says, “Mary’s growth throughout the movie was truly spectacular.” 

“Marjorie,” Logan corrects, “but I’m inclined to agree nonetheless. I really admire her inquisitive attitude. I think it’s very realistic to question rules in a new environment, especially considering how odd some of them were.” 

“What about the music?” 

“For an original soundtrack, not too bad,” Janus answers. “I think jukebox musicals are guaranteed to sound great if proper music is picked out, so I’m always a little skeptical when a movie makes its own songs, but these ones weren’t horrid. Maybe a bit too cheesy , but nobody’s perfect.” 

Logan reaches for Virgil’s drink, which Virgil hands to him. “I personally didn’t care much for the music. I never understood why characters will randomly burst into song and everyone will treat it like it’s normal… it’s absurd!”

“It’s fiction,” Janus says with a laugh, as Roman comes back to them. 

“Oh…” he breathes, as he sees everyone convening around the bench. “Is the movie over already?” 

“It seems that way,” Virgil responds, as he pushes himself to his feet. 

Roman frowns, but it’s a very overdramatic pout as opposed to any real disappointment. “Well that sucks! Though, I guess now we have popcorn for the road…” he hums in thought as they begin walking towards the exit. Janus and Logan - having stolen Virgil’s cup - fill it with what they want before they leave, and then they all get to Roman’s car. 

It’s only once the car’s turned on that Roman suddenly lights up, and turns in his seat so that he’s facing everybody. 

Motioning wildly to the popcorn tub he’d set on Virgil’s lap, he excitedly proposes “what if we all came back to my house for a movie night?! My dads and I can hook up a sheet in the guest room, and I’m confident we have a Bluetooth projector somewhere! And that way we can play whatever we want!” 

He looks between each of their faces with cute anticipation, which has Virgil brushing his bangs out of his face as he’s the first to answer “sure. I don’t have anything else going on tonight.” 

With Virgil’s confirmation, both Logan and Janus answer with affirmative “sure, why not?” and “that sounds pleasant” respectively, which has Roman happily patting his hands against the steering wheel in a rapid battering pattern. He’s nearly shaking with sheer delight, which Virgil can’t help but smile at as he relaxes in the passenger seat and pops a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 

Roman opens his phone to put on some music for the ride home, connecting it to the speakers and setting his phone carelessly in his cup holder. It’s unlocked, and the screen is on. 

Halfway through the first song, Virgil barely hears the phone vibrate over Roman’s belting to some cheery love-song, and instinctively glances towards it. When he does, he sees the words ‘I’ll see you next weekend’ followed by a singular period - sent separately from the prior sentence - only for the message notification to disappear up into Roman’s notification bar, reduced to just a little text icon. And suddenly Virgil’s prior pleased mood melts away, because something about that message has his hands clamming up. 

It makes him feel uncomfortable. It makes him feel sick. It makes him feel dread.

Chapter Text

Virgil's been staring anxiously at his phone for the past half hour. 

Roman told him at school today that he wanted to hang out with Virgil this weekend, but that he had to "check something first," and that he'd "text Virgil with more information later that day." Well, they've been out of school for an hour, and Virgil's gotten exactly one text from Roman... that of which being a simple 'Hey.' 

No emoji, no silly banter, just 'Hey.' 

It's not like that's all Roman wanted to say, as he's clearly going to follow it up eventually. In fact, the reason Virgil's so on edge is because he's seen Roman start to type multiple times, but the three bouncing dots have only seemed to taunt him, as they pop up, disappear, pop up again, and then once again disappear, leaving Virgil nervously chewing his thumb nail. 

He doesn't know why he's worrying so much about it frankly... surely whatever Roman's got going on is some silly, nonsensical problem that he's just been weirdly vague about, and that the bad vibes Virgil are getting are just as irrational. He's probably just checking with his dads to make sure they've got no prior plans, or maybe Roman's going the extra mile to double-check whether or not Remus will be out of the house so he can supply Virgil with a warning. Those things would be logical. It would also explain why he's taking so long. Maybe they originally had dinner plans but decided to cancel them at the last minute, and now Roman's altering his message to reflect that new information! Or maybe plans have been undecided, and Roman's typing to kill the time while waiting for a solid decision from his family! 

But Virgil thinks he knows the real reason, as he remembers the last text he saw Roman get. 

I'll see you next weekend. 

It didn't seem like a statement; it read more like a demand. In fact, every text Roman got during their outing seemed more sinister than texts from one's mom should be. Sure, Virgil and his father didn't have the best relationship, but at least Virgil's never cried over his messages! Roman had to leave their theatre! During a movie he liked!

Virgil's teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip that he begins to taste blood as he once again watches those three, teasing dots pop up once more.

This time, they don't disappear after a few minutes. They keep bouncing. They go through one cycle, and then three cycles, and then ten cycles, with Virgil feeling more and more sick as he watches them jump. Then again, the ellipses disappear, but instead of staying gone a message finally goes through, and Virgil lets out a rather large sigh of relief. 

Roman's text reads 'sorry for leaving you hanging! had to talk through some things with my dads :)' which has Virgil sort of shaking his head slightly. See? He did have to discuss some things with his family. He was worrying over nothing. The message continues 'I'm sure you saw at least some of my mom's texts. we don't exactly have the best relationship, which is why we stay mostly with our dads. but she wants to see us, so Remus and I are going to stay at her house this weekend. I do still want to see you, so I wanted to ask her if you could come over too, and she said yeah.' 

Followed immediately after that is a separate message. 'if you want to, of course.' And then again another message of 'please? I'd enjoy having you there.' 

A third message has Virgil sighing. Though he'd been anticipating a text from Roman all evening, this is just excessive. 'plus, we're dating! it's only suitable if you meet my mom too lol' with Roman sending an absurd amount of heart emojis, as if that'll somehow sweeten the deal. 

Virgil, honestly, has no preference. He texts back 'are you sure your mom is fine with me going?' 

It begets an immediate answer of 'yes. we've been texting about it.' 

'okay then.' 

'wonderful! I'll swing by to pick you up after I finish packing my overnight bag. Remus will be in the car with me bc I'm driving us to our moms."

That has Virgil grimacing. He hesitates typing a response. While he was fine going with Roman to their mom's house - despite never having met her - having to spend the ride alongside Remus almost causes him to back out. 

Roman seems to sense this, as he immediately says 'Remus can sit in the front with me, so he can't physically bother you. I doubt he'll do anything anyway. he's not really happy about seeing our mom and he's been sulking all morning' 

The image of Remus sulking puts a smile on Virgil's face. Any moment where he's miserable brightens Virgil's day at least a little bit, and luckily he'll be buried too deep in his own thoughts to consider twisting around in his seat and taunting Virgil. And if he does... getting to sit behind Remus and kick his seat all trip doesn't really seem like a bad tradeoff. 

So, after a bit of weighing the pros and cons, Virgil finally replies 'fine. but next time i wont be so lenient.' 

Roman sends a slew of confetti emojis, and then even more revolving hearts for good measure, punctuated with a simple 'I'll be omw in 10 mins! 20 max' ended with a winking emoji. Virgil can't help but snort at his phone, but he sets it down in order to move towards his dresser. He fishes out a change of clothes so he's not forced to wear his wrinkled, sweaty school-clothes all day, and then stuffs a bag full of an extra set of clothes for good measure. Though it wasn't explicitly stated, Virgil assumes he'll be staying the night, and so packs accordingly. This time he remembers a spare toothbrush, some deodorant, a phone charger, and his comb, not wanting to mooch anymore than he did at Roman's Dads' house. Then, he brings his bag downstairs, and waits on the couch. He keeps his phone in his hand, and his position angled in such a way that he's still comfortable on the cushions, but has a clear view out the window. 

Ten minutes pass, and still no Roman. When twenty minutes approaches, Roman's car finally pulls up to the curb, and Virgil immediately zips up his hoodie and slings his bag over his shoulder. He makes sure his house keys are in his pants pocket before he locks the door from the inside, and pulls it tightly shut when he walks out. He makes sure the knob is locked once, and then double checks just to be sure seconds later, before slowly jogging up to the car. 

Even though it's expected, Virgil can't help but tense up when he sees Remus in the front seat. The passenger side window is rolled down, with Remus holding a lit cigarette in one hand. Smoke is blown in Virgil's direction, as Remus looks equally as displeased to see Virgil. 

"Ugh. I still can't believe you're bringing him," Remus spits, as Virgil settles into the backseat. He sets his bag on the floorboard, and picks the seat in the middle, deciding he'll scoot to be behind Remus if the man becomes particularly unbearable. "This drive was already going to be miserable enough." 

"Is it a long drive?" Virgil asks, jumping off Remus's implication. 

Roman - who now that Virgil can see him up close, looks incredibly stiff - shakes his head. "No. About half an hour. Forty-five minutes if traffic's bad. She lives just a couple towns over." 

"It's not far enough of a drive if you ask me. I wish she lived in another fucking country." 

Virgil wants to ask why, but he feels it's not his place, nor does he have any interest in having any sort of discussion with Remus. So, Virgil just pulls out his headphones, and turns on music as he sticks one earbud in. Roman doesn't respond to Remus's complaining, and instead shifts the car into drive as they pull away from Virgil's house. While Roman rigidly holds the steering wheel - gripping it so tight his knuckles are white - Remus kicks his feet up onto the dashboard, and continues inhaling his cigarette. 

When he finishes it, he flicks it haphazardly into the backseat towards Virgil, and then lights another one without a care. 

"I already asked you not to smoke in my car, Remus," Roman mumbles, "but if you're going to at least don't throw the burnt butts into the backseat. You're going to end up burning holes in the seats or the floorboards." 

"Like you can't afford to fix it," Remus responds, seemingly uninterested in Roman's valid concerns. "If you're going to keep being a sissy about me smoking, then I can actually give you something to bitch about and put my next cig out on your face."

"Remus, please-"

"Shut up." Remus takes a drag of his cigarette, and then blows a face full of pure, nasty smoke Roman's direction, "focus on the road." 

Virgil frowns, hands balling into fists at Remus's treatment of Roman, but Roman catches Virgil's eyes in the rearview mirror, and just shakes his head softly back and forth despite his coughing. He cracks the driver's side window instead, and turns his face to the side to take in a mouthful of fresh air, before mustering a weak smile. 

Though he looks back towards the road, Virgil can tell Roman's talking to him when he says "feel free to open a window if it gets too stuffy back there," which has Virgil just nodding dismissively. 

"Okay." 

"And I have a few unopened bottles of water back there that I keep just in case... You know, if you get thirsty." 

"Okay, Roman." 

Roman's smile becomes tight and thin-lipped, but he keeps smiling as he drives, and so Virgil lowers his head back towards his lap as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone, trying to keep his mind occupied during the trip. 

Virgil remains glued to his phone throughout the entire duration of the drive, as neither Remus nor Roman seem too keen on making conversation... and Virgil can't really blame them. While he doesn't know how their relationship is in private, he knows that him being present creates immediate tension, as he knows Remus doesn't like him, and he knows Roman really does (even if he can't possibly fathom why). 

When they finally pull into a driveway though, Virgil finds himself admittedly... surprised. The house in front of them is nothing like the mansion-like house Roman and Remus's dads own. This one is quaint, the lawn is overgrown, and the driveway Roman parks his car in is basically crumbling to pieces. Even the car Roman's side-to-side with his old and busted, with a dented bumper and chipped paint... and a variety of scratches trailing all over the car's body. Remus stares over at it too, and then bursts into laughter. 

"Holy shit! She never buffed out my name!" 

Virgil scans the car to see what Remus is talking about, and spots Remus's name carved into the red paint on one of the backseat doors. It's just his name, but it's big enough to be noticeable. 

"I bet she gets worked up all over again every time she has to get back there to put groceries away," Remus continues, writhing in the front seat as he cackles. Roman just shakes his head at Remus's amusement, but the smile on his face seems a lot more real as he shuts his car off and opens his door. 

Virgil eventually climbs out too, though he waits until Remus is away from the car to actually step out of it. Roman approaches him and sets a hand on Virgil's shoulder, rubbing it softly as they walk up to the door, but his hand falls away as soon as Remus is practically punching the front door in lieu of knocking politely. The bustling coming from behind the door is immediately audible, and in a matter of seconds it's being thrown open. In the doorway stands a short woman, with long brown hair tied back into a ponytail and a smile that looks more icy than warm. 

"Roman!" she immediately exclaims, pushing past Remus to wrap her arms around one of her sons. Roman hugs her back, but holds her significantly looser than she holds him, "I'm so glad you decided to finally come visit!" 

"Yeah, well, you threatened to take dad back to court if we didn't, so," comes Remus's immediate response, which has their mother stepping back and looking at Remus with an almost disgusted look. 

"Well, it's my right as your mother to see you whenever I please," she answers, curtly, "and it's not fair to me that they're tricking you into staying away. You know mommy loves you both, so, so much." She pinches Remus's cheek, with her perfectly painted and manicured nails sinking deep into the flesh of his face as she wiggles his head back and forth with a lot more force than expected. "Even if your... rebellion is incredibly unappreciated. Try to lose that attitude before dinner, Remus. I haven't touched your room since you were last in it." 

Remus huffs, and stuffs his hands into his pockets as he shoves past her, sure to hit her shoulder on his way inside. As he rubs his cheek on his shoulder, Virgil hears him mutter "thank god," before he disappears into a hallway just out of Virgil's view. 

Their mother doesn't bother to watch Remus go, as she instead looks past Roman, and gives Virgil a sickeningly sweet smile. 

"Roman? Aren't you going to introduce me to your buddy?" she asks, looking at him expectantly. 

Roman swallows the spit in his mouth. "Yeah. Sorry. Mom, this is my... friend. Virgil. He's grateful that you're letting him stay over." 

"Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine," she sighs, as she reaches for Virgil. He gets encompassed in a tight hug that he finds himself feeling conflicted about, before she pets his face. "My name is Karen. Please, come inside. No use standing out here in the breeze!" She steps to the side, and urges Roman and Virgil in. "Though, do forgive the mess. Roman's father was incredibly spiteful in the divorce. He made sure he drained me of all my savings... so I haven't really been able to afford anything fancy, and thus there's quite a bit of clutter! In my opinion though, it makes things feel homey." 

Virgil doesn't know if he'd describe it as "homey," per se, as it feels exactly like the stereotypes of how a mother may decorate. Cheesy wall decor paired with an old family picture. Virgil doesn't miss the fact that it's ripped on both sides... and hardly a "family" picture at all, as the only two people in it are Roman and Karen. And in the picture Roman looks like he hasn't even reached double digits yet. 

"Roman's room has been tidied," Karen then goes on to explain, as she hugs close to Roman's side. "I just couldn't help myself! I wanted to make sure Roman would have the cleanest space to come home to!" She sighs again, affectionately, and coos as she rubs against him in a way that has Roman pulling away soon. 

"I'd love to go see my room," Roman says, swallowing a mouthful of spit, "and I'm sure Virgil would love to see your... uh... cleanliness." 

"Oh, Roman! You're such a sweetheart!" She steps away from him finally, and smooths out the modest dress she's in. "Please, don't let me stop you! Though do keep in mind you decided to come right around dinnertime, so I'll come fetch you when it's time for supper! We're having spaghetti!" 

Roman forces a smile. "Sounds delicious." 

He then grabs Virgil's arm - very intentionally wrapping his arm around Virgil's wrist as opposed to holding his hand - and pulls him away. He hesitates in the hallway, as if he doesn't remember where to go, before eventually making up his mind and heading into a room. It's spacious, and very neatly decorated, but it doesn't look anything like Roman's room at his dads' house. 

There's a comfy looking bed, a dresser, and yeah sure there's some decorations... but the photos on the wall all contain Roman and his mother in some fashion, with no other pictures in sight. Not a painting or a decorative piece of art... it's family photos or nothing. 

"Well, it sure does look clean," Roman mumbles, his disappointment apparent in his voice. 

Virgil snorts. "I guess if clean is another word for barren... then yeah. Sure is." 

Roman glances at Virgil, and offers him a small smile. "Well, that's not entirely her fault. When my parents divorced, she had to move out. And she couldn't exactly take our stuff with her. Everything in here is all stuff she bought or made after she was split from our dad." Roman's gaze lingers on a photo of him and his mom. This one still has Remus in it, but while she's holding a smaller Roman in her arms, Remus is standing on the ground next to her, blurry and smiling wildly as if he was already on the way out of the frame to chase something spotted in the distance. Karen isn't looking at him. She doesn't even have an arm on his shoulder. All her attention is focused on Roman. 

"I think she believes we're still twelve," Roman mumbles under his breath, before he sets his bag on the floor beside his bed. He sits on the edge of his mattress, wrapping his arms around his midsection. "It's not awful, of course! It's a decent room! Fine room... very... room-y." 

"Yeah, but it doesn't feel very you, I guess." 

Roman tilts his head up towards Virgil, and then around the room again. Instead of Roman's signature reds, whites, and golds, there was a lot of blue. It wasn't everywhere - most things were a rather uninteresting shade of beige - but the accents were definitely blue or cool-toned. It was like the antithesis to Roman's room at his dads' house. 

"It's what she wants me to be," Roman explains, after a moment. "A boy that loves his mother. More than he loves his fathers, even." 

Virgil goes silent. He joins Roman on the edge of the bed, but he has nothing to say in response. Growing up without a motherly figure present means he doesn't know what they should be like. Yeah, Karen gives him the creeps... but she hasn't seemed outwardly awful. The hug she gave Virgil was... pleasant. And it was nice to see someone finally put Remus in his place for his nasty behavior! 

Then, Virgil asks "why don't you see your mom often?" 

Roman nearly jumps at the question, and Virgil rushes to backtrack. "Sorry! You don't have to tell me if it's personal or anything. I was just curious, and I mean I saw her texts, and things were weird at the theatre so I just figured there was probably something... But it totally wasn't my place to ask. Sorry." 

"It's..." Roman starts, before rubbing his thighs, as if he's trying to massage the tension from his body, "it's fine. It's only natural to be curious. And it's... it's just..." Roman bites his bottom lip, wipes his face with his hands, and then tries again. "We just have conflicting views. Her and I. Her and Remus. She's my mom, but sometimes it feels like she wouldn't love me... unconditionally... you know?" 

No. Virgil doesn't know. As far as he's concerned, his father loves him unconditionally, and he believes his mother loved him before she passed... But it doesn't sound hard to believe. 

"Why not?" Virgil softly inquires.

That has Roman shaking his head slightly. "I don't know. I'm probably being stupid. She's my mom. I love her." 

Virgil instinctively goes to set his hand overtop Roman's, and at first Roman lets him, giving Virgil the most miniscule of smiles, but the moment footsteps reach their ears Roman is basically jumping to the other side of the bed. The footsteps don't linger outside of Roman's door, and instead get softer as they disappear down the hall, but it's just a few minutes before they come back and Roman's door is being pushed open. 

"I see you're settling in fine!" Karen happily exclaims, looking a bit too excited to see Roman laying back against his pillows. Roman's eyes briefly dart towards Virgil, and then look away again, as he musters a happy look. 

"Yup," he responds, "it's... quaint." 

"You should take more pictures all dolled up in your football gear. You're still playing, right? You haven't told me when any of your games are!" 

"Yes, mom." Roman swallows the spit in his mouth. "I'll make sure the coach emails you a copy of the schedule... but we don't have many games left this season. Maybe two more home games, three away. And they're far away. I doubt you'll want to make the drive; it's exhausting." 

Karen blows a raspberry with her mouth, and waves her hand dismissively. "Please," she starts, laughing in a high-pitched manner, "I gave birth to you and your brother. What could be more exhausting than that?" She adjusts her dress as she fully steps into the room, and takes Roman's face into her hands, wiggling it back and forth affectionately. "Besides, I'd do anything for you. You'd know that if you ever decided to speak to a judge... and tell them you wanted to live with your mom, you know." She smiles, wide and hopeful, before adding "and I love seeing my boy play ball anyway! I'm so glad that stupid, gay, theatre nonsense was just a phase. If you were still insisting you wanted to be a 'singer' or 'actor' then I might just drop dead out of disappointment!" 

"Yeah..." Roman mumbles, "that'd surely be dumb." 

"Oh, don't look so downtrodden," Karen scolds, her voice sharp, "those meager phases of yours wouldn't have any merit in the real world. Nobody cares about your paintings. Except for your mommy, of course, I miss when you used to paint for me." 

Her cheek strokes Roman's thumb, and Virgil feels a surge of anxiety just seeing how close her sharp nail gets to his eye. 

But, after a moment of petting she finally releases his face, and steps away. "I did come bother you for an actual reason , though, outside of the fact I just love you so, so much! Dinner's done! And your friend here looks like he could use quite a bit to eat. No girl is going to want a string-bean as a boyfriend. That's why I encouraged Roman to start going to the gym! And now I'm sure the girls are all over him! I'm almost jealous!" 

She laughs, but Virgil doesn't. Roman offers an awkward, clearly faked laugh, but very quickly shuffles out of the room. Karen follows after him, and Virgil follows after her. 

"Do you have a girlfriend, Roman?" Karen asks, as they reach the table. Three plates are set, two of which are piled high with spaghetti. One has significantly less. Karen sits at the smallest portion, which is directly between the other two plates. Roman and Virgil sit too, and are forced to be across from one another. 

Roman doesn't look at her. "Where's Remus?" he asks, trying to change the subject. Virgil frowns at the mention of Remus, but is surprised Karen does too. 

"That brat decided to throw a fit and slam his door in my face," she hisses, as she stabs her fork into a meatball. "But that's fine by me. If he wants to act ungrateful-" her voice crescendos as she speaks, turning her head to yell down the hallway, "-then he can stay in his damn room and starve." 

"Ma," Roman weakly protests, but a quick glare in his direction has his shoulders slumping. Karen softens at the sight of him, and reaches over to lift his chin. 

"Don't be like that, Roman," she soothes, "it's not your fault your brother's a devil-spawn. I prayed to the lord for patience, and he made sure mine would be tested every day." She laughs, and winks over at Virgil. "There's a common saying in my church, you know, that you should never pray for good things, because God will really make you work for them. I prayed for twins, and God sent me two boys instead of the boy and girl I wanted. I prayed for love, and God made me work every day trying to fix a marriage David was putting no effort into." 

She smiles like she's joking, but her words feel unnervingly earnest. Virgil shivers. 

"I prayed for patience, and God sent me a horrid son, and an ungrateful husband." She turns back to Roman. "You were the best thing God ever gave to me. And the devil tries to reach you every day; he tries to keep you from me because he knows that I'm right and I'll lead you down the right path. But you're here now, and that's wonderful!" She gasps, and her fork clatters to the plate. "And you'll be here Sunday morning! You can finally come to another service with me! It's been ages since we've sung hymns together! And I'm sure my new preacher would love to meet you! He knows all about you, and has comforted me in times of distress... when neither of my sons bothered to come see their poor mother." 

Tears well in her eyes, of which she makes a show of dabbing away. "Sometimes it feels like he doesn't even love me," Karen breathes, turning towards Virgil. "I'm sure you see your mother daily! And I'm sure you definitely don't treat her like... like David and his sinful friend teach my boys to treat me." 

"Mom-" Roman tries to interject, looking nervously between his mother and Virgil. 

"Shush, Roman." Karen presses her lips together, and gives Roman a pointed look. "I'm trying to get to know your friend better. You treat your mom with respect, don't you Virgil? And you don't refuse to see her?" 

Virgil closes his mouth, opens it, and then closes it again, before abruptly blurting out "my mom's dead." 

Roman puts his head in his hands as Karen blinks in surprise, and leans back in her chair. Her eyes study Virgil for a moment, before she pushes herself away from the table and over to Virgil's side. He's wrapped in another tight hug, this one tight and warm. Virgil doesn't know how to respond. 

"You poor thing," she nearly cries, running her fingers through his hair, "who's been your maternal role model all this time? Who's kissed you goodnight, or cooked you dinner, or taught you manners?" 

"I mean... I... I guess my dad." 

Karen pulls away from him, but keeps her hands rested on Virgil's shoulders, rubbing them softly. "That's not the same, sweetheart. A father isn't a mother. He's hardly home, isn't he? Always busy working?" 

Virgil shifts awkwardly in his seat, but his chest tightens with... sadness. "Yeah." 

"See? And that's not bad! Men should be out working! He's supposed to provide! But he's supposed to provide for a woman." Karen steps back again, and runs her fingers through her ponytail, looking somber. "It's no wonder you look so... pitiful. You've had no mother to take care of you! Well, honey, you always have a place here. I can teach you how to fix that ratty hair, and get you some nicer clothes, and I can teach you what your mother never got the chance to." 

Her tone drips with honey, and for a moment Virgil almost wants to accept. But he looks at Roman, and is unable to miss the tears shining in his eyes. When Roman catches him looking, he drops his head, and stuffs his mouth full of spaghetti. 

So, Virgil puts on a polite smile, and just says a simple "thanks. I'll... keep that in mind." 

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Karen sits back down to eat, and Virgil stares at his own plate. His mind swarms with questions that haven't plagued him since he was little. Was he missing out on important life skills due to not having a mom? Was he... broken because of it? 

He twirls his spaghetti onto his fork, but doesn't bring any to his mouth yet. It isn't until he feels the tip of Roman's shoe graze his ankle under the table does he finally look up. He sees Roman discreetly flash his phone at him, before tucking it beneath the table's surface. So, Virgil rushes to get his phone out of his pocket, and does the same. When he unlocks it, he sees a short message from Roman. 

'I'm sorry.' 

Virgil looks at it, mouth dry, and then looks back up at Roman who's just finished his plate. He stands, and dumps it in the sink, before clearing his throat. 

"Can Virgil eat in my room, Mom?" he asks, though he's clearly hesitant to do so. 

A brief bit of irritation flashes across Karen's face, but it settles back into a neutral look with a singular sigh. "I suppose," she begrudgingly answers, though she tries to pass it off as playful after with a quick laugh. "Just don't get any sauce on his sheets. Laundry day isn't until Sunday, and I'd hate to have to do a load early." 

"I'll be careful," Virgil promises, though his voice comes out quiet. He picks his plate up, and carries it with two hands back to Roman's room, staring at the floor as he's led back before he slides onto the ground next to Roman's bed. Roman sits on the floor with him, not saying anything. 

And so Virgil finally takes a bite of his food, and immediately makes a face. 

The noodles are overcooked, and make Virgil cringe as they turn to mush on his tongue. The sauce is... fine... but the noodles. Desperate to try something else, Virgil tries a meatball instead, and finds it cold in the middle. He makes a noise of disgust, and then sets the plate on the floor, wiping smeared sauce from his lips onto his sleeve. He's tempted to throw his fork down into this sad excuse for spaghetti, but restrains from doing so as to not accidentally splash lukewarm sauce onto Roman's floor. 

"It looks better than it tastes," Virgil huffs, sinking his hands deep into his pockets. 

Roman laughs, but only slightly. "It typically does with her. The presentation is always immaculate, but the actual food is..." he trails off, and then takes Virgil's plate. "She'll think it's rude if you don't finish your plate, but lucky for you I'm not evil enough to force you to eat it." Roman winks. "I'll see if she has any snacks lying around after she goes to bed, and if she doesn't I'm sure we can slip out to a gas station somewhere." 

Virgil lets out a sigh of relief. Though his stomach grumbles, he mutters "sounds good to me," and then listens calmly as Roman finishes the plate in a few big bites. 

The empty plate is set on the equally empty nightstand, before again Virgil and Roman's hands interlock. This time, their fingers slip together, and Roman seems to relax. He doesn't say anything, but it's clear he wants to, and so Virgil decides to say something first, asking "does she know you're gay?" 

Roman stares at him, dumbstruck, before snickering softly. "Did you not just hear that whole godly spiel she went on? She'd crucify me if I ever came out to her. I already saw how well that went with Remus, and I'd rather not ever experience that." 

"What happened with Remus?" 

Roman's momentary amusement melts back into discomfort. "It's... Nothing. Nothing happened. Forget I mentioned it." 

Virgil pulls his hand away from Roman. "Don't be like that." 

"Like what?" 

"Weird." Virgil puts his fists back into his pockets. "You're being weird. You're acting weird."

Silence settles over them again, and Roman pulls his knees to his chest. They stay on the floor for a bit, just sitting side by side. At some point Virgil checks his phone, but Roman doesn't, seemingly too fixated on the wall trim in front of him to look anywhere else. 

But silence doesn't last for long. 

It's cut through by a loud screech, only half-muffled by the thin walls throughout the house. Though Virgil has to focus to hear the words being spoken, he can tell Karen is the one yelling. Virgil turns towards Roman, about to ask what's going on... only to see that Roman's buried his face in his knees. So Virgil gets up without him, and moves towards Roman's closed bedroom door. He presses his ear against it, lingering just outside the hallway, as Karen shrieks further down the corridor. 

"God-damnit Remus!" she yells, followed by a thud, "you've been in my house barely two hours and you already put a fucking hole in the wall!?" Another thud. 

Again, Virgil looks at Roman, but Roman hasn't shifted his posture at all. So, slowly, Virgil pushes the door open just a crack. At the end of the hall, he sees Karen and Remus in the hallway. Remus towers over his mother - at least a foot taller than her - and he's yelling back at her. 

"So what if I fucking did?" Remus cackles. "What're you going to do about it? Throw me out? Go ahead. I didn't want to come to your run-down shit-shack anyway! I only dragged my ass here because you were willing to drag dad's ass back to court!" 

"You think I'd take David to court over you!?" 

"With how much of a cunt you are? Absolutely. I'm surprised you haven't taken him back to court for 'emotional distress' or 'hurting your feelings!'" 

Karen stomps her foot. "I wish I aborted you when I had the chance. You were supposed to be a girl. And now you're ruining your brother; he doesn't even want to see me! And it's all because you're telling him I'm an awful mother. You think I'm an awful mother." 

"I do. I pray every day that you kill yourself-" 

Remus is cut off abruptly by Karen swinging her arm at him, the force of which is so intense her entire body swings to the side too. Remus stumbles backwards a step, but stands up straight shortly after. Though he's down the hall, the unmistakable visual of blood pouring down Remus's cheek is apparent. Virgil can only guess her sharp nails caught his flash and dragged it from his face when she struck him. 

"Don't you ever fucking talk to me like that again, Remus Prince. I brought you into this world, and God himself couldn't stop me from taking you out of it." She hits him again, on the other cheek this time, but this one doesn't draw any blood. When Karen looks like she's about to turn, Virgil rushes back into the room, though he's mindful not to slam the door shut, and instead carefully pulls it closed noiselessly. 

Virgil lingers in front of the doorway for a moment, but quickly moves away when he hears her approaching, jumping into Roman's bed instead. 

Karen throws the door open hard enough for it to slam into the wall, and she's breathing hard. Her mouth is open as she pants, and Virgil can basically feel the anger pouring off of her in intense waves. However, when she spots Roman on the floor, she immediately throws herself against him, turning up the theatrics and sobbing loudly. "Roman!" she cries, as Roman's forced to turn. His mother buries her face in his chest, hugging around his waist, but Roman doesn't return the hold. "Did you hear how he was speaking to me, Roman? Could you hear the abusive words he was throwing at his own mother?" Her bawling is loud, and when she pulls her face away for a few seconds, Virgil can see her face has started to melt away, as mascara and foundation becomes a muddled mess on her wet face. "He thinks I'm a bad mom. I tried, Roman! I've been trying so, so hard to be a good mom, and I'm just a failure!" 

She hiccups. And then hiccups again. And then her hands slap hard against Roman's chest, making Virgil flinch as he watches her. 

"Don't you care about me, Roman? Don't you think I've done my best?" 

As Roman stays quiet, Virgil swallows the spit in his mouth, and tries to scoot off the edge of the bed, but Karen catches his movement in her peripheral vision. It's as if she's remembering he's here, as very quickly her sobs grow quieter in volume. Her gaze lingers on Virgil for a moment, before she motions to Roman. 

"See?" she pleads, voice weak, "see how his dad has poisoned him? He won't even comfort his own mother. He hates me, and it's all their fault." 

The confrontation makes him sick to his stomach. He can tell she expects him to quell her anguish since Roman won't, and a part of Virgil feels guilty for not doing so immediately. But what he just witnessed... It makes it hard to feel bad for her when he thinks about it fully. And so, he shakes his head slightly, which has Karen narrowing her eyes. 

"'No?'" she echoes, as Virgil shrinks slightly under his criticizing tone, "what do you mean 'no?' Are you arguing with me right now?" 

Virgil wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before finally standing up from the bed, now directly across it from her. He's taller than she is - he realizes now - if he stands up straight. And he does stand up straight, even though he wants nothing more than to just crumple and heave. 

"Yeah," Virgil finally answers, mouth dry, "yeah, I'm arguing with you. I just... I just watched you hit Remus." 

Her eyes go wide, but she quickly scowls. "He deserves it. All parents discipline their kids. Surely your dad has popped you in the mouth once or twice for being disrespectful." 

"No," Virgil defends immediately. "My dad's never laid a hand on me." 

Karen sneers. "Well maybe he should have. Then you'd know not to talk back. I shouldn't have let you come over; you're just as bad of an influence as all of Roman's other friends are. This is why I'm all you need, Roman, mommy knows what's good for you!" 

Roman turns around now, staring at Virgil, but he slowly turns to look at Karen with a look of disbelief. "Did you actually hit him?" Roman whispers, making Karen feign sadness yet again. 

"I had to, Roman, you know he doesn't learn without a little push." 

Tears leak down Roman's face, and he's immediately settling his head back into his hands. "We've been here less than a day," he sobs, which has Karen looking more than irritated, "I thought... I thought you'd at least wait longer than a day..." 

"Roman, knock it off. Men don't cry." 

Roman cries harder as a result, and Karen neglects Virgil in favor of crouching down next to Roman. She forcibly pries his hands away from his face, and looks like she's getting ready to smack him too, but before she gets the chance there's a whistle from the doorway. 

They all look towards it, and Virgil swears he's never felt so relieved to see Remus. 

His scratches have scabbed a bit, and are no longer leaking constant blood, though his entire cheek is dyed red thanks to the blood that's already dried. He has his bag slung across his shoulder, and his phone in his hand, and he barely spares Virgil a glance as he says "get up, Roman, I already called Bruce to come get us.

Karen pushes herself to her feet immediately. "You can't do that!" she shrieks, "it's my weekend!" 

"We have liberal visitation," Remus bites back, enunciating every word smugly, "and you squandered your weekend the moment you decided to 'catch an attitude.'" 

"If that homewrecker comes anywhere near my property, I will call the cops. He is not your father. He is not your mother. I am. I am your mother, Remus, and-" 

"And if you call the cops," Virgil butts in, voice wavering, "then they'll clearly be able to see the blood still caked to Remus's face. And they'll be able to tell that you did it. You don't really want to go to jail, do you? Over... over this?" 

Karen wipes some of the mascara from her eyes. "They can't prove it with me. Remus is erratic. I can say he did it to himself and they'll believe me." 

Remus raises an eyebrow. "With three witnesses?" 

"Roman didn't see anything," Karen insists, voice cold, as she turns towards her clearly favored son, "did you, Roman?" 

Roman shakes his head, but he's not answering her. He's just... distraught. "I can't believe you," he mumbles under his breath, which Karen doesn't seem to like one bit. Though seething from his lack of a concrete response, she still motions to him as if he's on her side. 

"Roman wouldn't betray his own mother. Roman loves me, unlike you." 

"Nobody loves you," Remus laughs in response, before looking past her. "Grab your shit, Virgil, you're leaving too. She might kill you if we just left you here, and while I really couldn't care less, knowingly abandoning you might count as being an accessory to murder. You too, Roman, we're going back to dad's." 

"Remus Prince, I swear to God-" 

Remus spits in her face. It's instantaneous, but unmissable, and Karen screams as a thick loogie smears over her cheek. As she stumbles over herself trying to wipe it away, Roman grabs his bag and basically runs out of the room, with Virgil quickly moving to do the same. Remus lingers in the doorway until they pass him, and continues to antagonize and shout at Karen as Roman heads out the front door, with Virgil staying right behind him. Virgil hears Remus and Karen enter another screaming match, but only briefly, as Roman doesn't stop jogging until they get to the edge of the street, decently distant from Karen's house. 

While Virgil - who is not athletic in the slightest - struggles to catch his breath, Roman just wraps him in a hug. 

It's sudden, and Virgil nearly jumps before he processes what's happening, but then he's melting into Roman's touch and hugging him back. 

"I'm sorry," Roman whispers in Virgil's ear, "I shouldn't have asked you to come. It was stupid. It was selfish." 

"You're not selfish, Roman." 

"But I am." Roman pulls away, and then wipes his face, which is red and puffy from crying. "I thought... I thought that if I brought you, she wouldn't act like this. She's good at keeping up appearances, and I thought she'd just do that until you left, and we'd at least get one less day of... of..." Roman sniffles and wipes snot on his sleeve. "But that didn't even work. So I just dragged you into misery for no reason. I'm so, so sorry." 

"Roman..." Virgil starts, but before he can try and comfort him, a hand is sliding into his hair. 

As his bangs are ruffled, Remus slides past him and pulls his hand away, and moves to punch Roman affectionately in the arm. "Quit babbling like a sissy," Remus groans, before pushing Roman forward, encouraging him to keep walking. "She was bound to blow up sooner or later, and it would have been a lot worse if it happened later into the night." 

To give context, Remus turns around and grins at Virgil. "See, Bruce is a deep sleeper, and Dad keeps his phone on silent because the notifications give him anxiety. So if we tried to call, we would have been sent straight to voicemail." 

Roman smiles slightly, and wipes more of his face clean. "That's not entirely true," Roman tries to argue, though his tone is light, "you know they aren't able to sleep whenever we come over here." 

"Because they think she's going to kill us before we can come back." Remus spits again, but on the floor this time, as they reach a crosswalk at the end of the sidewalk. They cross the street when it's safe to, and then gravitate to a bench on the other side. They sit there for a bit, before Roman suddenly gasps. 

"My car!" Roman exclaims, looking worriedly between Virgil and Remus, "I drove us here!" 

Remus cackles. "You did. I was wondering how long it'd take you to notice." 

"You prick! I can't just leave my car there!" 

Roman and Remus start shoving each other on the bench, and Virgil nearly is pushed off it once or twice, but eventually Remus shoves a final time and insists "stop bitching! Bruce knows you drove. He'll drive us back to Mom's place, and make sure you get your damn car. Are your keys in your bag?" 

"Yeah..."

"Then there's no need to be so dramatic." 

Roman sighs, and then settles back into the bench. He takes in a deep breath, and then exhales, and turns to Virgil and smiles. Virgil smiles back. 

"Sorry again," Roman says, "want to stay the night at my Dad's to make up for it?" 

Virgil snickers, as Roman's hand finds his own. Roman squeezes his palm briefly, before he wraps his arm around Virgil's waist instead, and places his hand overtop Virgil's other knuckles, pulling Virgil closer to him in the process. Virgil lets him, and answers "after the eventful few hours I just had at your mom's? I'm down for anything that gets me away from here." 

Roman smiles, as Remus makes a gagging sound and nauseatingly insists "gays!" which has Virgil more amused than annoyed. In fact, he finds himself rather... content with Remus's presence, and even more comfortable with Roman's. He's still high on anxiety, and can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, but he'd be oblivious not to notice it steadily slowing the longer they all sit together, enjoying the cool evening breeze and deciding that this is a much better place to be spending their time than in that hellhole.

 And with Roman - despite the rollercoaster he experienced in the past few hours - Virgil finds he feels unmistakably... safe.

Chapter Text

Virgil flinches hard when Remus's fist comes down against his locker, with Remus himself leaning close shortly after, pinning Virgil to the metal behind him. "Hey, dipshit," Remus greets him with a wide, toothy grin. Virgil's heart pounds with fear despite the annoyed scowl he wears, as both the loud noise and Remus's presence has him on edge. 

"Remus," Virgil mutters in acknowledgement. "What do you want?" 

"I don't want anything." 

Grimacing, Virgil tries to shuffle awkwardly to the side, hoping to slip past Remus and sprint down the hall into a more populated area, but Remus notices and brings down his other forearm as well, keeping Virgil trapped between his arms. Virgil shrinks slightly, but he musters a scoff. 

"Well, if you don't want anything then beat it. I'm too busy to be your punching bag." 

"Hey, hey, hey," Remus laughs, before taking a step back, "I'm not here to do that either, despite how tempting it is. Roman just wanted me to ask you if you'd come to our season finale game tonight. If we win, then it'll mark the start of the playoffs."

Virgil straightens up slightly at the mention of Roman. "He wants me to come watch his football game?" 

Remus picks between his teeth with one of his sharp nails. "Yeah. The last game of the season is a big one, I guess. Not compared to a championship or whatever, but Roman honestly doesn't give a fuck whether or not we end up state champions. In the end it's just high school football."

"And he just wants me to come watch?" 

Remus raises an eyebrow. "Are you stupid or something? I already said yeah." 

"Sorry. I'm just surprised, that's all." 

Blowing a raspberry with his mouth, Remus rolls his eyes. "You shouldn't be. You're his boy-toy; of course he'd want you there. All he does is yap about you during practice. The coach has had to make him run laps before to tire him out so we all didn't have to listen to him drone on and on." 

Virgil flushes, but nods. "Is it a home game?"

"Obviously."

"Okay. I'll be there, I guess." 

Remus smiles, and grabs Virgil's shoulders, shaking him back and forth slightly. "Hell yeah," he snickers, before suddenly sobering up. His casual demeanor falls into something more somber as Remus suddenly squeezes Virgil's upper arm tightly, in a way that has Virgil thinking their entire semi-positive interaction was just a ploy to get his guard down. But before he can truly try to make a run for it, Remus is sighing out "look, I actually do need a favor. For mine and Roman's sake." 

Swallowing down a mouthful of spit, Virgil nods his head slowly. "Okay. What do you need?" 

"Can you... Will you avoid mentioning Karen around school? Or in general? You met her; she's fucking crazy. And Roman gets stressed out whenever he hears about her. So telling people at school would be really, really shitty, because you and I both know they'd bombard him and I constantly with questions. So it's best if you just... don't bring her up. Ever." 

"Is that it?" 

"Yeah. That's it." 

Virgil pushes Remus's hand off of him, but musters a strained smile. "I can do that. But I'm doing it for Roman's sake, not yours." 

"I can live with that. I don't really care, honestly." He scratches at his cheek, which Virgil's eyes are drawn to. He has a long scab beneath his eye. "Honestly, I'd love to recount stories of my childhood to prodding individuals. Imagining their discomfort when I talk about how she'd purposely try to get me killed would be hilarious." Remus laughs to himself, before adjusting his bag. "But Roman would not like that. He wouldn't even like thinking about it. So... thanks, I guess. For agreeing to keep quiet." 

Virgil stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "You're welcome." 

Then, Remus turns to walk away, shouting "we'll see you at the game tonight!" as Virgil turns back to his locker in order to finish gathering up his stuff. 

He'd never attended one of the school's football games. He doesn't really care about sports, and he knew the bleachers were always packed full of eager parents and sweaty teenagers, who'd get way too close and way too loud for his liking. He pulls out his phone as he heads out of the building, and sends a quick text to Roman. 

'hey, got your invite thru remus. thought you told your mom you had like six games left?' 

He almost sends it without thinking, before noticing his mistake and rapidly backspacing. He hesitates over what to say, before correcting himself and instead asking ' hey, got your invite thru remus. i remember you saying something about having quite a few games left, but remus said this was the last one. was there some sort of misinterpretation?' 

After he sends it, he focuses on getting home, and then lounges on the couch as he searches up all sorts of facts about football. Baseball or basketball were at least units in gym class; the closest they got to playing football was flag football, and Virgil had heard plenty of jocks mutter about how this "wasn't even close to real football" so he doesn't think he can compare it to the real thing. But if he was going to attend Roman's game, then he wasn't going to be confused the whole time. 

For an hour or so, Virgil really just browses the Wikipedia page for football. Rules, point systems, even a vague description on how seasons progress. He still doesn't understand most of it by the time he gets to the bottom of the site, and ends up sighing as he ponders his next move. He could try and find a site that's not Wikipedia... or he could ask someone. 

He first tries to text Roman, but as soon as his contact is up Virgil sees Roman hasn't even read his last message. Not wanting to burden Roman with a massive wall of questions, he instead chooses to dial up Logan's contact in hopes he may know a bit about the sport. The phone rings a singular time before Logan answers. 

"Hello," he greets Virgil politely, before immediately transitioning to the call at hand. "Is there something you need?" 

An awkward laugh escapes Virgil's throat. "How'd you know?" 

"You didn't text." 

Virgil can hear the faint scratching of a pencil against paper in the background, and can guess Logan's either filing out some homework or working through a study guide. He bites his bottom lip as he asks "I'm not interrupting you or anything, am I? I can just send a text if that'd be better." 

"We're already on the phone," Logan counters. "And I'm quite good at multitasking. You're not distracting me in the slightest." 

"Okay." Virgil fiddles with the drawstrings of his hoodie, tightening the hood around his neck. "Do you happen to know anything about football?" 

There's a pause on the other end, before Virgil hears Logan set his writing utensil down. "Of course I do. Why?" 

"I just need an easy explanation of the rules, the point systems, and... the other stuff?" 

"Why?" 

"Well... Roman invited me to his football game tonight, and I said I'd go, but I don't know the first thing about football! It's different from flag football, right? That's what everyone always says in P.E. The Wikipedia page also didn't seem too similar to that, either, so I'm honestly very confused. And I don't want to be confused because I want to be able to cheer Roman on when he does well, which means I need to know what doing well looks like, and-" 

Logan's voice cuts through Virgil's rambling. "Calm down," Logan states, "it's rather simple. Watching is, at least. You don't really need to know how to play in order to enjoy watching the game." 

"I couldn't care less about the game," Virgil admits, "I just want Roman to feel... supported, I guess." 

"Makes sense, considering he's your boyfriend." 

Virgil scowls. "He's not my boyfriend. We're just still playing Oreo. It's not my fault I'm so competitive." Logan doesn't respond, and so Virgil sighs and adds "but I do want to like... cheer for him. Like I would a friend." 

"Or a boyfriend." 

"Okay, whatever! A boyfriend! Will you explain to me the rules and stuff now, please?" 

"Sure. Janus and I will be over soon." 

Virgil's eyes go wide. "What? Why would you guys need to come over? You could just tell me on the phone instead of-" 

"Explaining it in person will be easier. A lot can be misconstrued over the phone." Logan already sounds like he's packing up his stuff in preparation. "Also, I've been meaning to attend one of the school's football games. To show 'school spirit,' and stuff. If I want to be on the student council next year, then I need to become familiar with school events, even if I think they're kind of boring." 

Shoving all of the football-related stuff to the side for now, Virgil can't help but question "you want to join student council during our last year of school? Isn't that kind of pointless?" 

"It'll look good on a college resume, and my senior year schedule will allow for more personal time I can dedicate to reinvesting in the school. I've packed the past three years with so much in order to guarantee my final year was an utter breeze, so I'd have more time for clubs and extracurriculars. Anything to pad a college form." 

Virgil lets out a slight, breathy laugh, and he can hear Logan's pleased smile through the phone as he guides them back to the topic at hand. "Also, Janus helped my mom make spaghetti last night, and they made way too much. You'd be doing us a favor by eating some of the leftovers." 

Virgil's stomach grumbles at the mention of home-cooked food. All he's been eating lately has been takeout, as he hadn't had the energy to cook, nor the confidence to go grocery shopping himself. So he finds himself a bit more convinced to welcome them over with the promise of getting a meal out of it. So, he doesn't argue any further as he hears Logan's muffled voice talking to someone - likely Janus - in his room, before turning back to the phone. 

"We'll be there in about half an hour," Logan says. "And we can walk together to the school to watch the game." 

"Sounds good to me." 

"Great. See you then." 

The phone clicks, and Virgil kicks himself off the couch. 

He spends the next fifteen minutes actually bringing his bookbag upstairs and changing out of his sweaty, wrinkled school clothes into something more comfortable. When he hears Logan's signature knock against his door, he's quick to open it up, where Janus and Logan's amusement is visible on their smiling faces. 

"So," Janus starts, as he steps in like he owns the place. He's carrying a medium-sized Tupperware containing at least two servings of spaghetti and meatballs. He hands the container to Virgil, who rushes to set it on the counter in order to begin making himself a plate. Janus nears him, stalking behind him knowingly. "You were just going to keep the fact you wanted to attend your boyfriend's football game a secret from us?" 

Virgil glares at him. "No. I just didn't think it was a huge deal that I wanted to go. He asked me to. Well, technically Remus did it on his behalf." 

Janus's nose scrunches up in dramatic disgust. "Are you sure he's not duping you?" 

"It'd be weird if he was. What would Remus get out of inviting me to a football game?" Virgil pauses just before sliding the spaghetti into his microwave. "Unless there isn't a game tonight, and he was just urging me out to the bleachers to beat me up or something." 

"Calm down," Logan again reiterates. "There is a game tonight. It's their season finale. They're playing to see whether or not they'll begin the playoffs. If they lose, then this is it. No more football until next year." Logan then nudges Janus in the side. "And we know you weren't intentionally avoiding telling us that you were going. Only you were specifically invited. Though I'm sure Roman wouldn't mind us coming to support him, too. In fact, I bet he's quite relieved to know that his boyfriend's friends are fond of him as well." 

"Shut up!" Virgil pushes their snickering forms away from him as he shoves his plate into the microwave. "You guys are the worst." 

Logan and Janus move towards the couch, watching as Virgil reheats their leftovers and then joins them on the cushions. He eats with a frown on his face, while Logan and Janus ease up on their teasing comments. 

Clearing his throat, Logan begins "seriously, though, football isn't that complicated. I'll run you through the basics while we eat." 

"What time does the game start?" Janus interrupts, before Logan can get started. 

Virgil pales, his fork stopping just short of his mouth. Steam rises from the spaghetti and hits his nose, but he doesn't eat it just yet. "Uh," Virgil breathes, "I don't... actually know..." 

"You don't know when the game starts?" Janus repeats, incredulous, but Logan just sets a hand on Janus's shoulder. 

"It's fine. They all typically start at seven, but tonight's starts at six due to it potentially being the final game of the year. It's three dollars to get in unless you come in school merch. Do you have a hoodie or something with the school logo on it?" 

Virgil shakes his head. "Why would I?" 

"Fair point," Janus grins, "it's ugly." 

"Then make sure you both have some money on you. The gates will open at five to start filing in, but nothing really happens that first hour aside from fights under the bleachers." Logan pulls his phone out, and loads up a picture of a football field. "Now, here's what you need to know." 

The next hour is spent with Logan slowly explaining every niche rule and play involved in football, from the first down to how many points per touchdown. He goes over it a second time once he's done, making sure Virgil will at least understand what he'll be seeing, with Janus looking like he's minutes away from falling asleep beside him. When Virgil finally insists he's got the basics down, they turn their attention to just talking while a show plays in the background, providing them with pleasant white noise as they just chat. 

"Has Janus been staying over a lot?" Virgil asks Logan, trying to mask the feeling of being left out with curiosity. 

Logan shrugs. "Not really. He came over last night to eat dinner, but went home afterwards. And he came over again after school, but it's because I'm helping him complete his biology study guide." 

"Geez," Virgil huffs, "your bio class is already nearing a test? We're still only halfway through the unit." 

"This is the test for the previous unit. We fell very behind," Janus groans. "My teacher sucks. You and Logan have good science teachers; mine won't stop gossiping with the sophomores long enough to actually complete a lesson, so oftentimes units are broken up into two or three classes. If Hell is real, then that teacher is the gatekeeper." 

"It's not so bad," Logan hums. "If you don't get through everything, she'll have to remove the unit - or units - she didn't get to from the final exam. Lest she wants a slurry of complaints to be given to the principal for all her students failing the last two pages." 

"Is she allowed to remove certain units from the final?" Virgil questions. "I thought that'd get her in trouble with the school." 

Logan shrugs. "Either way she's getting in trouble with the school. Whether she wants it to be due to not finishing the curriculum - something that can be easily excused by saying she had stuff going on at home - or due to massive amounts of student complaints for unfair grading and revelations about her wasting class time is up to her. I think one of those options is significantly worse than the other, and if she's smart enough to teach biology then hopefully she's smart enough to weigh the pros and cons of each."

"Still," Janus complains, "it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Why did I get stuck with the shitty one?" 

"Because I take AP physics, so my teacher kind of has to be competent." 

Virgil shrugs. "And I guess my teacher just likes my class less. It's not fun to talk to kids you despise. You just want to teach, and then get the hell out of there." 

Janus frowns, but doesn't seem all too upset at the prospect of having an easier final exam. "Logan's honestly just been explaining the study guide to me and comparing it to his own from when he took biology." 

Virgil raises an eyebrow, and pokes Logan in the arm. "You kept your study guide from last year?" 

"Two years ago," Logan corrects him, "I took biology as a freshman. And yes, I kept it. I've kept all my work from all three years in hopes that revisiting them will make my senior year even easier. There's also the chance that I'll have to take a similar class in college, which my work will come in handy for. It's like how we learned about Punnett squares in science class back in middle school, but then relearned them again in biology class." Logan pauses. "At least I did. I have no idea what Janus's class is currently teaching. But Virgil, you just finished that unit, right?" 

"Mhm." 

"Spoilers!" Janus playfully exclaims, "we're just getting to Charles Darwin. We haven't filled in any squares yet." 

"It's easy if you remember how they worked in science. Dominant and recessive genes are made way simpler in school; they're actually leagues more complicated in actual biology, because there's a lot of different genes that are interpreted when a baby is born that pull from both parents' family histories." Logan smiles as he speaks. "It's quite fascinating, really, with-" 

Logan launches into a somewhat detailed ramble about genetics and DNA, while Virgil again checks his phone. There's still no text from Roman. No acknowledgement. No sign he's even read the message at all. But as he scrolls back in their messages to mindlessly distract his mind, he notices it's about 5:20pm. 

"Fuck," Virgil curses, before showing his two friends his phone. "Game starts at six, right?" 

"Yeah," Logan answers, "we should probably get going." 

They don't grab anything but some cash they have on hand before heading out, with Janus and Logan chattering the entire way to the game while Virgil trails a bit behind them, occasionally checking his phone just in case Roman finally decides to respond. He's probably warming up, Virgil tells himself. Athletes typically do that before games. Baseball players did it between innings. So it'd make sense for Roman to ignore him so close to gametime. But he surely hasn't been practicing from the very moment school let out, which was when Virgil sent that first text. 

Maybe he'd gotten busy with school work before the game, and then had to focus his attention on it after? Virgil wasn't sure. 

When they get near the school, they can already hear the excited chatter coming from the line of students and parents outside the gate. They steadily progress through the line, pay, and then make their way to the bleachers for the home side. As the visiting team's side opposite of them begins to fill, Virgil, Logan, and Janus struggle finding a seat themselves. They have to step over families who shoot them dirty looks, and students who laugh and glance their way when they walk by, until Virgil's being startled by his name suddenly being called. 

"Virgil!" is yelled through the bleachers, and Virgil quickly looks around to find the source. He scans row by row, as he hears his name be shouted again. "Virgil! To the right!" 

Virgil angles himself to the right, and suddenly spots the source of the noise. 

Near the top of the bleachers sits Bruce and David, both of which are waving towards him. When they see he's noticed them, they wave him over. The seats around them are empty, with a few spaces in front and beside them. Virgil quickly grabs Logan's arm and explains "those are Roman's parents" as he begins pulling them up to the top. Logan's dragged along with Janus following behind, until he's close enough to Bruce and David to end up in a tight hug. 

"Hey, kiddo!" Bruce greets him, as Virgil's guided to sit right next to them. "We're glad you came! Roman really wanted you to come to his last game of the season!" 

"Well," David interjects, "there is a chance this won't be his last game. But we're hoping it will be." He laughs, but before Virgil can ask why David adds "and just in case it was, he wanted you to be here for it. Here!" 

David reaches beside him and grabs a varsity jacket. Roman's varsity jacket. 

He hands it to Bruce who wraps it immediately around Virgil's shoulders. "He wanted you to wear this," Bruce explains, "the same way a cheerleader would wear her boyfriend's jacket in support of him. He's cheesy like that." 

Virgil flushes dark red as the jacket is pulled around his shoulders, while Janus and Logan - who've decided to sit right in front of them - snicker at his fluster. "Thanks," Virgil musters, as he kicks Janus in the back as subtly as he can. He looks towards the field, where he sees the teams practicing. Two of them are tossing a ball back and forth, a small group is being lectured by the coach, and some others are spread around either drinking water or ramming into sandbags. "Which one is Roman?" 

"Number four," David says, pointing out into the fake, painted grass towards one of the players, sitting on the bench. The back of his jersey displays a bright white "4" with the last name "PRINCE" printed atop it. "Remus is number twenty-five." 

Virgil looks around for number twenty-five, and indeed finds him among the group being sternly spoken to by the coach. When Bruce notices his eyes lingering, he chuckles and explains "they were all late today. That entire group got held up in detention. They might be forced to warm the bench today, but honestly I doubt it. The coach needs the best, and Remus is mighty good at taking down opposing players." 

David smiles softly. "It's a good outlet for his energy. And he gets permission to tackle people to the ground, or dogpile atop them, so he hardly hesitates before doing so. It's difficult for people to get past the knowledge that you can end up seriously hurting someone while playing, but that thought never seems to bother Remus." 

Virgil can only imagine why, considering the amount of times he'd been shoved around or wrestled by him, but at least on the field he'd be doing it in a way that likely wouldn't end with both of them in the office being lectured about the school's "zero tolerance" policy. Especially since the opposing team didn't even go here, and it was after school hours. 

Eventually, the coach claps his hands, and a whistle is blown. Virgil checks the time, and sees it's 6:01pm. 

Both teams fill their benches as the coaches read off a clipboard, and then players begin standing in preparation of filling the field.

One player from the home team and someone from the other team make their way onto the grass and shake hands as a referee stands between them. He explains something to both of them, before a coin is flipped in the air, and then brought down. It’s checked, and then the ref motions towards the home side and blows his whistle, signifying the home team will receive the kickoff. 

The visiting team is handed the ball, and both teams go to opposite ends of the field, with the opposing team lining up for a kick. 

Kickoffs were vaguely explained to him by Logan, but Virgil's still left mostly confused as the ball is kicked and sent flying, and suddenly the home team goes running for it. It's caught in the air, and the player who caught it takes off, getting about halfway down the field before getting tackled. After this, a ref marks the line where the boy went down with his foot, and blows his whistle, which then has both teams lining up.

 Roman and Remus take their places on the grass, with them standing on opposite ends of the same line. 

Virgil watches on with curiosity as everyone gets organized. They stand on either side of a white line, in what looks to be a symmetrical pattern. In every offensive position, there was a member from the opposing team standing almost directly in front of them, preparing to counter. Virgil was sure there were strategies that didn't involve playing like this, but from what Logan explained to him this seemed to be one of the most common ways to play. It'd be hard to throw a ball to an available teammate if they were all occupied trying to run from someone chasing them. 

One of their players crouches down with the ball, holding it between his legs. He's positioned in the center, and there's a player right behind him, looking ready to run. 

"We won't be able to hear it from up here, but that's the quarterback," Logan explains, turning slightly so Virgil can hear him, but still paying attention to the game. "He'll call out 'hike' to the center to signify the start of their play. As soon as the ball's in motion, the defense is allowed to counter." 

As if on cue, the center suddenly snaps the ball back, and the quarterback rapidly backs up while scanning the field. Different players are being covered or cornered by the opposing team, and eventually the quarterback just tucks the ball into his elbow and tries to run. He sprints wide, crossing the white line they were stationed behind, but he barely gets a few steps over it before he's being jumped on by the opposition and they're tumbling to the ground. Then, they're getting back into their lines, shaking off that first play. 

"They're trying to get at least ten yards within four downs," Logan says. "That was their first down. They got maybe... one." 

"I thought the goal was to score a touchdown?" Virgil replies. 

Bruce chuckles, and pats his back. "It is!" he answers, on Logan's behalf. "It's just more likely you'll get a touchdown if you’re closer to the field goal. There have been some runners who have gotten there, or at least close from the kickoff, but it's easier to progress steadily." 

"What about being tackled after the kickoff? Does that not count as a play?" 

Logan briefly looks unsure. "Uh, I don't think it does." 

"It's not," David assures him. "Down's are defined by the ball entering play with a snap, and are ended whenever the ball or the player holding the ball hits the ground. So you were right in saying this was their first down." 

The quarterback suddenly crouches further, and then the ball is entering his hands again. This time, he spots an available teammate further down the field, relatively unguarded. He takes a few steps back before tossing the ball, and Virgil watches as it spirals as it cuts through the air. The receiver catches it, and then takes off running, though he's quickly downed seconds later. 

"That's ten yards," Logan says. "Impressive throw. Now, the amount of downs they get reset, so they'll start back at one." 

Virgil tries to find Roman and Remus among the players as they return to their lines. He sees Roman shuffling back to his place, and eventually finds Remus pulling himself off of the opposition, who stays on the ground for an extra few seconds as if he'd been knocked out by a rough force. When he eventually gets up, he shakes himself off, but his hands are balled into fists at his sides. 

Bruce laughs beside him. "That's our Remus," he mumbles, more so joking with David. "It's not really a football game until he's pissed off every member of the opposing team." 

David smiles back at him. "I'm betting he'll have them all seething before halftime." 

"Really?" Bruce gasps. "There's no way; this school seems like a patient bunch." 

"I'll bet you... a pretzel with cheese." 

Raising an eyebrow, Bruce counters "make that a pretzel with cheese with extra salt." 

"Deal." 

As David and Bruce engage in playful banter, Janus and Logan seem to be doing much of the same. Logan's explanations of the game before them are lost on Janus's careless disposition, as Logan tries to point out certain athletes to Janus, with Janus humming in acknowledgement before occasionally responding in a dismissive, somewhat flirtatious manner that'd throw Logan off for a few seconds, before Logan would force them back on track. 

The next down is almost identical to the previous one, with the quarterback throwing the ball and someone catching it, but this time as the guy runs Remus runs alongside him, knocking down any opposition that tries to tackle the runner. At some point, Remus slams into someone too hard and he goes tumbling too, and then the receiver gets tackled. But they'd run another ten yards, and the home team were starting to get hyped, with Remus being shaken excitedly by a team member as they passed by, and Roman patting him on the shoulder. 

Virgil doesn't know how he expects the next two downs to go, but they go just fine, with another ten yards being taken within them, getting them just a few yards away from the end zone. 

"Logan said they do some sort of kick after they score a touchdown," Virgil says, coincidentally right as the quarterback runs the ball into the end zone, effectively scoring their team a touchdown. The bleachers erupt in delight, while the cheerleaders on the track do a chant specifically trained for when points are won. When the air around them is once again quiet enough that Virgil can hear himself think, he clears his throat and asks "is that going to happen now?" 

David smiles towards him. "Yup. And that's Roman's job!" 

Remus is tossed the football and he runs up to Roman, before kneeling in the grass a few paces in front of him. He balances the football against the ground with as little of his hand as possible, using just enough force to keep it upright. Everyone pauses for a moment until the referee blows his whistle, which then has Roman running up to the ball and kicking, sending it flying impressively far. 

Virgil watches it soar right through the bars of the field goal, and then everyone runs back the way they started. 

The home team kicks off to the visiting team next, and it's their turn to run and attempt to score a touchdown. The scoreboard looming above the field also changes to reflect the sudden point differential, while also showing the countdown until the end of the quarter. But Virgil doesn't find himself looking at that often; he finds himself surprisingly invested in the game. 

It's easier to enjoy the sport when he knows the athletes playing. Two of them, at least. And while he doesn't really care whether or not Remus plays well, he is rooting for Roman, and finds his heart leaping into his throat whenever the home team gets the ball back, and Roman is tossed it to receive. 

When he catches it, he nearly falls backwards, but is luckily able to keep himself upright while his team gets him cover. He doesn't score a touchdown, but he does get far, sprinting across nearly half the field before he's being tackled to the ground by two guys, which leaves him laying there for a solid few moments. Though Virgil feels the compulsion to cheer at Roman's accomplishment, Bruce and David don't do much other than comment on how well he's playing and how much effort he's putting in, as if they're not truly invested in whether or not the team wins. 

The second quarter starts similarly to the first, with each coach gathering their teams in a huddle to hash out strategies, point out previous mistakes, and hype everyone up. When they're let back onto the field, Virgil catches Roman looking up at the bleachers. His cheeks go pink as he raises his hand slightly and waves slowly. He's not sure if Roman's even looking at him, but luckily Roman waves back. His expression is unreadable from so far away, especially with his face tucked behind a thick helmet, but Virgil imagines him smiling as he realizes Virgil actually did show. Then, he turns and meets his team out on the field, preparing for the next few plays. 

And Virgil himself leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands as he watches them play. 

The home team goes from nine points to eighteen, with them getting an additional two following a "safety," which Logan explains can be applied for a variety of reasons, but in this case came as a result of a foul from the offensive team (which was the visitors at the time). Meanwhile, the opposing team started with nine points, jumped to fifteen (as they missed their field goal), and were actively working on getting a bit more. Fortunately, the runner is taken down by Remus, causing the ball to fumble from the receivers hands. Immediately, Remus jumps on it, and curls his body around it as people from both teams join the pile, trying to wrangle the ball away. 

"Hell yeah!" Bruce cheers, when the referee eventually pulls the kids off of Remus, who is still holding the ball at the end of it. As a result of the fumble, the home team is given the ball yet again, and gets one last chance at scoring a touchdown as the second quarter nears its end. "That's one hell of a turnover!" 

 Everyone is on the edge of their seats as the home team makes their way to the end zone. They advance quickly, even with the time working against them, and at the end of it manage to score a touchdown, bringing their total to twenty-four points, with another three being added on from another successful field goal, again made by Roman. Then the quarter ends, and both teams retreat to opposite ends of the field, near the bleachers as they chug water and talk amongst themselves. 

The cheerleaders from both teams make their way onto the grass, both groups performing at once but being so far away it doesn't matter. They do stunts, flips, and lifts that keep half the bleachers entranced, while the other half stand to grab concessions. 

David points towards a few of the opposing football athletes who are stomping around, pointing, and throwing their helmets on the ground. "Told you Remus would eat away at them," he comments, as Bruce smiles and shakes his head. "Looks like you owe me a pretzel." 

"Alright, alright." Bruce kisses David's cheek, and then pats Virgil's shoulder as he addresses all three teenagers. "Do you guys want anything from the concession stand?" 

"I'll take some nachos," Janus answers immediately. 

Logan politely answers "I'd be happy with just water, if you'd be willing." 

"Sounds good to me. You want anything, Virgil?" 

Virgil shrugs. "What do they have?" 

Bruce hums, before standing and waving for Virgil to come with him. "Why don't you come check out the menu with me? It'll be nice to have an extra pair of hands to carry stuff back, too." 

Virgil does, and follows Bruce down the bleachers. 

Ever since Bruce had picked them up from the curb after they visited Karen, Virgil's felt rather secure around him. He'd been completely sympathetic to their situation when he pulled up, and stepped out of the car to comfort Roman as Roman broke down retelling that day's events all over again. It was surprising to think about how Bruce was technically Roman's stepdad, considering just how careful he was with Roman's feelings. He'd stood with them outside the car, walking Roman through his feelings, patching up Remus's face, and then having a private talk with Virgil out of earshot of the twins. 

"Are you okay?" Bruce had asked him. "I know Karen is an awful person, and I know witnessing her be so openly hateful can be very stressful." 

Virgil had felt guilty for his discomfort. "No less stressful than experiencing it firsthand," he'd responded. "She wasn't hitting me. She wasn't really yelling at me, either. Not like she was Roman." 

"Still," Bruce sighed. "You don't deserve to be treated like that by anyone, but especially not by the adults who are supposed to be a good role model for you. And... and I know you don't have many other role models around to look up to." 

Virgil had looked down at his feet, feeling oddly ashamed that Roman had seemingly spoken to his parents about Virgil's own familial situation, even though it makes perfect sense he would. "It's okay," Virgil murmured. "I know what she was doing was bad. I just... I want to get away from here." 

"Do you want to go home?" 

"Roman already asked if I'd stay the night." 

Bruce smiled ever so slightly. "Well, you're fully free to do that too. But if you need to go home, then I'll make up some excuse on your behalf. Otherwise, I think the baked mac and cheese David and I made is still hot. We can get you settled in at our place, and I can make you a plate." 

Virgil couldn't help nodding. "That sounds nice." 

Then, Bruce had hugged him tight and secure. Virgil couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged like that, and so ended up leaning against Bruce fully, who then walked him back to the car. And he'd made good on his promise, actually filling Virgil's stomach with decently delicious macaroni. His and David's presences only furthered his feelings of safety, and he wasn't oblivious to the way Roman and Remus both immediately relaxed the moment they stepped foot back into their home. 

"You enjoying the game?" Bruce asks him suddenly, snapping Virgil out of his thoughts. He's realizing that as he's been walking, he's bumped into Bruce without thinking, and so takes a large step to the side so as to not intrude on his personal space. 

"It's decent," Virgil answers. He thinks about Roman on the field, and then about his texts, and decides to ask "would... would you happen to know why Roman would tell his mom he has multiple games left if there's a chance this'll be his last one? I remember him saying that to her, which obviously doesn't make sense considering this." 

Bruce's lips press into a thin line. He doesn't answer at first as they join the crowd waiting in front of the snack counter, before finally explaining "she's not allowed to come to them. It's not a court rule or anything per se, but David has a restraining order against her, which she'd continuously violate over previous years at every game she could. So we decided to just stop telling her the schedule, and if she pressed, we'd lie to her about it." Bruce rolls his shoulders. "Roman doesn't want her here anyway. Neither of the twins do. But Roman specifically. She..." he trails off, before sighing and resting his hand on Virgil's arm. "Honestly, it's not my place to tell, but if you want to know, I'd recommend asking Roman why. It was his decision to start falsifying the schedule, though Remus was typically the one to text her fake documents." He laughs slightly. "You'd be surprised how many times she'd drive to the middle of nowhere because that's where Remus said a game was happening, just for him to block her as soon as she realized what was going on. It happened repeatedly." 

This sort of deception would make Virgil uncomfortable over different circumstances, but Bruce and David weren't fathers trying to keep their kids away from their mom. They were trying to keep a monster away from their kids. 

"I'll ask Roman about it, then," Virgil replies. "Sorry." 

"You don't have to be sorry. You were curious, if not confused. I hope I at least clarified his reasoning a bit... but it's not going to be fully clear coming from a secondary source." They move up in line, and near the counter, which has Bruce pointing out the clearly homemade menu to Virgil. 

There are hotdogs, burgers, nachos, pizza, taco-in-a-bags, chips, candy, pretzels, and drinks, as well as something called a "giant pickle." 

"See anything you want?" 

Virgil nods. "A hotdog, maybe. If that's fine." 

"Of course it is, kiddo." 

When it's finally their turn, Bruce goes through the motions of getting something for everyone. Two pretzels, one for himself and one for David, nachos with cheese for Janus (and jalapeños on the side), a bottle of water for Logan, and a hotdog for Virgil. Once they've been handed their snacks, they step to the side so Virgil can put ketchup on his hotdog, and then make their way back to the bleachers. 

The food and drink are distributed amongst everyone, with Janus and Logan splitting their water and nachos, and Bruce and David stealing pieces from each other's pretzel even though they have one of their own. 

Virgil gobbles down his own hot dog as they wait for halftime to end, and all of them have finished picking at their snacks by the time the teams get back on the field. 

The second half of the game goes almost identically to the first, with both teams making their way back and forth across the field, fighting for touchdowns. The opposing teams score jumps to twenty-one, and then twenty-four. The home team gets to thirty-three, and then thirty-six with another successful kick from Roman. Though the home team stays in the lead for the third quarter, the fourth quarter starts to even the score. 

The home team gets a pass intercepted, causing a turnover. The visiting team then scores a touchdown and a field goal, bringing them to thirty three as well. With the points tied, Virgil can tell everyone is on edge - from the athletes, to the fans. 

The only people seemingly uninterested in the outcome are David and Bruce, whose thoughts Virgil can't read, and Janus and Logan, who have stopped paying attention to the game in order to talk to each other. Occasionally they'll glance up and clap, but otherwise their eyes are on anything but the field. 

The home team is blocked from scoring the next time they're playing offensively, and eventually Roman is pulled from the current lineup and traded out for someone else. He pulls his helmet off as he sits on the bench, head constantly shifting between the scoreboard and the field. Even from a distance, Virgil can see Roman's leg bouncing wildly. He'd mistake it for game day nerves if Roman didn't turn his head to the side, allowing Virgil to see him biting at his nails with unmistakable discomfort. 

The teams stay fighting in a constant back and forth, with neither managing to score initially. They're stuck tied as the quarter nears its end, until the center snaps the ball, and the quarterback tucks it beneath his arm. With determination driving him, he sprints towards the end zone, though this time Remus doesn't cover for him. In fact, Remus takes one person to the ground in a tackle, before looking between their runner and the bench. Virgil tries to follow his constantly changing gaze, but his eyes are instead drawn to Roman the exact moment the bleachers erupt in cheers. A touchdown is scored with mere seconds left, and a field goal is kicked moments after. And instead of celebrating like the rest of his team, Roman's head is in his hands. And he's just... sitting there. 

Everyone around him rushes onto the field as the quarter ends, scooping up the man who made the final score, leaving Roman by the bench as Remus jogs back. In a surprising act of kindness, Remus finds a bottle on the ground and hands it to Roman, staying by him while he chugs it before pulling Roman off the bench, and escorting him to where everyone else is jumping and screaming and rolling around in the fake grass. 

"Well, guess we'll be attending the playoffs," Bruce comments with a sigh. David wears a sad smile, as he and Bruce tightly hold their hands together. 

Janus and Logan stand with the crowd, both of them stretching. Logan turns to Virgil first. "We were thinking about heading out now, but if you want to stay to congratulate Roman then feel free to come over later. You can spend the night." 

"Thanks..." Virgil mumbles. "I think... I think I'm going to stay." 

They nod, and head off together, with David and Bruce standing too. As Bruce heads down the bleachers, David lingers back. "We're going to go see Remus and Roman, and then head home to start on a... celebratory dinner. But if you want to stay, Roman and Remus should both be dismissed after a fifteen minute breakdown of the game and praises from the coach. Roman may be happy to hang out with you after." 

Virgil forces a smile, despite the nervousness swelling in his stomach when he sees Roman's team all crowded around their coach, with Roman's head angled down. "Thanks," he says, though he doesn't know what he's thanking them for. "It was nice seeing you." 

"It was nice seeing you too, Virgil. Remember, you're welcome at our place anytime." 

As David descends the bleachers, Virgil's left relatively alone. Parents hover by the gate, hoping to praise their children, while students and siblings head straight towards the parking lot. When Virgil starts to feel uncomfortable being one of only a few people left sitting on the stands, he eventually decides to head down to the ground as well. He isn't necessarily heading somewhere in particular as he just walks to waste time, but eventually finds himself coming back to the concession stand. 

With the crumpled handful of cash he has in his pocket, he buys himself a candy bar and a bottle of water, and goes to sit back down. At least while eating he looks like he's actually doing something, instead of just brooding. 

He tries not to seem like he's staring as the athletes are finally dismissed by their coach, and immediately head towards their families. Both twins are hugged by their dads, sandwiched into a tight bit of affection before Remus pushes them away in order to run off, leaving them with Roman. Their bodies slump, and Roman's lip quivers, and then he's hugged again with David kissing his forehead, before they head off. More and more families disperse, leaving just Roman, Virgil, and a few stragglers. 

As Roman comes over to him, Virgil breaks away a piece of his chocolate bar, and offers it to Roman as he sits down. 

"Thanks," Roman mumbles, dropping his helmet to the ground, and setting his water bottle to the side. His hair is matted and disheveled with sweat, with the eye black decorating his cheeks running down his face in streaks. 

Virgil chews his cheek, before saying "you don't seem very... jubilant." 

"Sorry," Roman breathes. He stares at the gate in front of him, and wipes his face. "I... I don't know. I should be happier than I am. I mean... we just won! But..." Roman holds the chocolate between his fingers, and it begins to melt against his hand. "But, admittedly, I didn't really want us to." 

A bit surprised, Virgil scoots just a bit closer as Roman finally brings the treat to his mouth, and takes a sip of his water after. "Why not?" Virgil questions, voice soft. Roman still doesn't look at him, and just fidgets with the cap of his water bottle as he seems to formulate some sort of explanation. 

"I..." he starts, before immediately trailing off. He tucks his face into his hands, and before Virgil can even assure him that he doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to, a sob is being pulled from Roman's throat. "I don't want to play football anymore," he cries, body shaking with anguish. "I hate it. I hate pushing people to the ground and I hate being tackled, and I hate running back and forth across the field. The equipment is uncomfortable, the sport is violent, the sweat is sickening. It's all... bad. I hate it." 

Startled, Virgil doesn't do anything for a moment, before setting a hand on Roman's back. "It's okay," he starts to say, but Roman just cries harder. 

"It's not okay!" Roman insists. "I'm only playing this stupid sport because I have to!" 

Virgil's hand slides down Roman's arm, and then takes his hand. "Why do you have to? Are... are Bruce and David making you?" 

"What?" Roman lifts his head, sniffling, before he shakes it. "No. I think... I think they want me to stop. But my mom, she..." Roman wipes his face, and takes in a deep breath. "She told me I had to play football. Said it's what 'normal boys do.' And once I started, she insisted I couldn't stop, because I've already wasted so much of her money and my dads' money on equipment, fees, sporting camps. And I'm... I'm not smart enough to get into college on my own. That's what she tells me; she tells me 'Roman, you're pretty, but you're stupid. All brawn, no brains.' I need some sort of scholarship to not be more of a financial burden than I already am." He stares down at his hands. "And who am I without football anyway?" 

"Well... who are you with it?" 

Roman stares at Virgil, mouth slightly agape, before he sighs. "I don't even know. I know I'm unhappy. I know I'm good at it, but I don't want to be." 

"What would you do instead of football?" 

"If I had to pick something?" 

"A club or an event at school. If you had to choose something else." 

Roman takes another sip of his water as his tears become less frequent. "I... I think I'd join the drama club. They host the spring and fall musicals. I'd love to work on the set design. Some friends of mine who are in it have shown me the props they've made, and some of them are so cool. And... and I love to sing. I'd give anything to go up on a stage and do so." 

Virgil squeezes Roman's hand. "Why haven't you?" 

"Because my mom says theatre is a girly interest." He mocks her with clear disdain in his voice. "When I said I wanted to do it anyway, she said I wasn't allowed. And at the time Remus and I were still going to her house every other week, so I had no choice but to listen. But I wish I didn't. My entire high school experience has been wasted playing a sport I don't even like for someone who's not even here, for a college I'm not even sure I'll go to. Because what would I go for? To be a professional athlete?" Roman bitterly laughs, and then starts crying again. "I just feel like I'm not... me. This isn't me. And now I have to keep being this good jock version of me because that's what everyone wants. Teachers, teammates, my mom." 

Humming, Virgil inquires "well, surely there are people that don't want that. You said Bruce and David want you to stop... who else doesn't want you to play?" 

Roman wipes his nose. "Uhm... Remus, I guess. He's the only person who knows I'm unhappy. He's the only person I've told." 

"And he'd support you if you ever decided to quit?" 

Roman snorts. "He'd do more than support me. He'd throw me a party. He says my misery on the field is 'draining' and that 'only losers play football.' I can't tell if he's being serious or not, considering he loves getting to play, but I think he's just trying to push me away from sports entirely." 

Virgil laughs quietly. "I don't even know if Remus likes football for the same reason normal people like it. I think he just likes fighting without any repercussions." 

"You sound like my dads." 

"Well, maybe they're right." 

They sit quietly for a moment, before Virgil clears his throat. "Maybe... maybe you can sign up for the spring musical. I know it's too late to audition for the fall musical, and you wouldn't be able to play anyway if you're participating in playoffs, but you should be free by March, right?" 

Roman weakly smiles. "Yeah," he answers, before his face falls. "But I couldn't possibly. I haven't participated at all the past two years; none of the casting directors or theatre kids know me. I probably wouldn't be casted at all in favor of someone more well-known or reliable." 

Virgil huffs. "You are well-known. Maybe not for acting-related things, but just in general. And you're not a bad kid; they're willing to at least give you a chance." 

"What if I end up in the ensemble?" 

"What's so bad about the ensemble?" Virgil raises an eyebrow. "Isn't every role in a production important? And besides, you said you liked the set design. Without a leading role whose lines you have to memorize, you'd have time to paint the stage and create those cool props you were gushing about. Either way it's a win-win."

"Unless I don't get a role at all." 

Roman's sadness and hopelessness is apparent in his tone. Virgil frowns when he hears it. "That could happen..." Virgil utters, though he's so quiet Roman doesn't hear him. "If that does happen, then there's always two shows next year. And a bunch of summer programs, I'm sure. You know theatre kids can't stop performing for more than a month at a time; they'll organize events around town, and you're sure to find one accepting participants." 

"But what if I'm not good enough to participate?" 

Virgil's brows furrow. "Do you think you're not good enough?" 

As Roman's eyes glisten with fresh tears, Virgil immediately knows the answer, and looks away while murmuring a soft apology. Roman turns away from him too, and again rubs his palm against his red, puffy eyes. 

There's more silence between them that Virgil doesn't know how to fill. Roman's self doubt is infectious in the worst way, making Virgil feel downcast and sympathetic at once, especially when he feels Roman's grip loosen on his hand. "Sorry," Roman says, his apology hanging in the air between them, "I'm not trying to come up with an excuse for every suggestion you give. It just feels like so much could go wrong, and... and I don't know what I'd do if it does. Because what if I audition, and they tell me I'm not good at singing, and my acting is atrocious, and I'm too clumsy to learn the choreography, and I should just stick to playing sports." Roman pulls his hand away from Virgil, and blinks away fresh tears. "What if my mom is right?" 

Unsure of how to comfort him, Virgil takes a moment to just think. What if she was right? What if Roman was the cringiest actor in existence? And what if his singing sounded like nails on a chalkboard? 

Suddenly, Virgil lights up with an idea. He hesitates bringing it up as it's kind of dumb, but he can't help himself from proposing "well, what if you sang for me." 

Roman's eyes go wide. "What?" 

A bit more embarrassed at the blunt imploration, Virgil's half-tempted to take it back, but instead he swallows the spit in his mouth and doubles down. "I mean, do I look like the kind of person that sugarcoats things? If you actually suck at singing and dancing, then I'll tell you, and you could stick to solely painting props. That way you could still be involved in the show's production, but you won't waste your time auditioning if you know for sure you won't get a role." 

Face flushed with embarrassment, Roman hides his expression in his hands. "But what if I'm so bad you end up... dropping dead or something!" 

"I doubt that'll happen. And if it does, then at least I won't have to go back to school." 

Remus huffs out a breathy laugh, before seemingly trying to work himself up. It takes him a minute, but then he's declaring "fine. I will sing. For you, my muse. Though it'd be a lot nicer if I had a backtrack, or even a guitar." 

"I'm sure you won't need it." 

Roman stands and shrugs off his heavy shoulder pads, dropping them and his jersey to the ground. He's wearing a white, sweaty tank top beneath it, that's so tight Virgil can see the outline of his muscles. Virgil flushes as he stares, and forces himself to look away, tugging at the collar of Roman's varsity jacket. Roman swallows down a large gulp of water, and then wiggles his hands, as if trying to shake all his nerves out of his body. 

"Okay," Roman breathes, "okay, here I go." 

Without another word, Roman settles on a song in his head, and starts singing. 

His voice starts off shaking, struggling to sing any louder than a soft exhale, with words mumbled so quietly Virgil's not sure Roman's even speaking English. And then he realizes Roman's not speaking English, as Roman raises his chin slightly, getting louder as he sings out. 

As soon as Roman finds his voice, his song comes out in a beautiful stream, with a melody so dulcet Virgil finds himself getting goosebumps along his arms. He has to shift in his seat to lean forward, sucked into Roman's world through the emotion in his voice despite not understanding a word he's saying. Despite that, Virgil can interpret through his countenance and body language that Roman is singing about passion. About longing. About love. 

He moves slowly across the dirt, cleats kicking up small pebbles as he steps forward, turns, and steps back. His arms raise, reach, and then pull back. And he has surprising control over his breathing, being able to dramatically stretch backwards while staying as loud and consistent as he is when standing still and perfectly upright. Though he's dancing to his own music, and singing to his own rhythm, and Virgil can't understand any of it, he finds that in this moment he understands Roman. He sees the insecurity flash in his eyes whenever Virgil looks anywhere but his face. The way he stiffens or slows his dancing when Virgil shifts in his seat. And the hesitancy in his form when he reaches towards Virgil, silently requesting he join Roman in his world. If even for a moment. 

With careful hands, Roman guides him through the motions. When he steps forward, Roman steps back, and when Roman steps forward, he does the same. They mirror each other in perfect motion, with Roman holding him just tight enough to be present, though he's noticeably gentle with his touch, permitting Virgil to pull away if he so desires. 

His song softens as he and Virgil end up close. His voice is barely a whisper as he hums into Virgil's ear, gracing him with pure music while up close. It's serene and comforting, and passionate in a way Virgil's never seen portrayed in movies, or reflected in high school relationships. 

He has no desire to look around with anxiousness, and shy away from prying eyes. He has no bitterness towards Roman, and as such no instinct to push him away and growl at him for acting like a sap. 

Instead, he's slowly spun, and Roman's hand comes to rest on his back - not low enough to be perverse, yet firm enough to keep him steady. Virgil's heart beats fast in his chest, and yet he feels unnaturally calm. 

Roman's eyes flutter shut for a moment, with his song nearing his end. And Virgil feels a strange compulsion. An impulse he hardly thinks through before acting on. 

As Roman enunciates the final syllable, punctuating the end of his performance with a note held just long enough to make Virgil shiver, Virgil leans upwards. He stands on his tip toes as Roman pulls him close, and sets his hands on the side of Roman's face. And before either of them even process what's happening, Virgil kisses him, swallowing down Roman's emotions and connecting with him in a way so intimate that Virgil feels their hearts beat in tandem. 

When he pulls away, both of them have to suck in a deep breath. But in doing so, Virgil becomes acutely aware of what he's just done. 

With wide eyes and a red face, Virgil immediately takes a step back. "Fuck," he curses, "I'm so, so sorry. I should-" He bites his knuckle, stumbling backwards, "I need to leave." 

"Virgil," Roman softly tries to quell him, but Virgil's already turning. 

"Virgil!" Roman again calls, but Virgil's already running. 

He reaches the parking lot before he allows his eyes to fill with tears, but he doesn't stop running. Even as his heart beats quicker, and his stomach swells with guilt, and his lungs burn hot, he doesn't stop. Not until he gets as far away from Roman as possible. Not until he's sure he's run from his feelings completely.