#prinxiety fluff

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 view 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.” 

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.” 

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. “He’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.

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.