The taste of beer still sat on Roman’s tongue when they had been put in the closet together. Virgil was in front of Roman and his hands were cold against Roman’s skin. Roman’s heart was racing as the other inched closer, his fingers twirling around Roman’s hair and his breath was warm with the scent of beer. His hands were on Roman’s face. He was leaning in, his lips almost brushing against Roman’s.
Acting on instinct, Roman shoved against Virgil’s chest as hard as possible. “I can’t do this,” he choked out in a whisper. His breathing was hurried and harsh and his eyes were brimming of tears. Virgil worried that he was about to have a panic attack.
“Roman, are you okay?” Virgil asked softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. I mean, I am pretty pale, but I’m still alive.”
“I can’t do this,” Roman repeated. “I’m so sorry, Virgil, I- I can’t.”
“That’s fine, Roman,” Virgil said softly, “I just want to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m not sure,” Roman admitted. “I’m sorry. I let you down. I shouldn’t drag you into my problems.”
“Drag me into your-? Dude, don’t be ridiculous,” Virgil said. “I want to help you. We can start small, okay?” Roman nodded. “Why are you here?” Virgil asked. “You’re clearly having a miserable time, and it really doesn’t seem like you’re all that into Seven Minutes in Heaven.”
“Because I have to be,” Roman said, his voice quiet but robotic as if he had practiced the line before over and over.
“What?”
“It’s what you guys- what everyone- expects of me,” Roman said. “I have to... I have to be social and loud and I have to be willing to get drunk and make out with my friends in a closet.”
“So you don’t want to kiss any of us?” Virgil asked, but his tone almost turned the question into a statement. Roman nodded. “Oh thank goodness.”
“What?”
“Dude I thought I’d have to compete against you or something!” Virgil said; it took Roman a moment to process what he meant by that.
“For the affections of whom, exactly?” Roman asked, turning his lips to a smirk. He had finally dropped the subject.
Virgil smiled with faux affection and a laugh. “You’re not escaping your problems that quickly, Princey.”
“Damnit.”
“That’s a nickel in the swear jar.”
“Fuck the swear jar.”
Virgil rested his hand against Roman’s cheek comfortingly. “Roman, If you’re uncomfortable, you need to tell them.”
“I don’t... think they’d understand.”
“Roman, how long have you felt uncomfortable with us?”
Roman thought for a moment, eyes to the floor as tears fell onto Virgil’s fingertips, being wiped away by his friend’s thumb. “Virgil... I’m...”
“It’s okay, Roman. You’re okay.” He pulled Roman into a hug and felt the tears drip and drop onto his back.
“I don’t want you guys to think that something’s wrong with me. That I’m... inhuman.”
“Roman?”
“I... I’m an aromantic asexual,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. “It... it feels really good to tell someone that.” he relaxed under the soft pressure of Virgil rubbing circles onto his back.
“Seven minutes is almost up,” he whispered. “Do you want to tell them? Or do you just want me to drive you home?”
“Eventually,” Roman muttered. “I’ll tell them eventually. But I don’t know if I can handle being alone just yet.”
“I can drive you to that ice cream shop you like to sober up.”
Roman laughed, the last of his tears falling from his eyes as he wiped them away. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
“Twenty seconds left!” Remy’s (obnoxiously drunk) voice yelled against the door.
“You still haven’t told me who you’re into.”
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