Why Why We Do What We Do (17)
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Hands trembling, the weightless feeling in Virgilâs chest managed to light his eyes up like they hadnât been in countless hours. But even the sight of Roman finally sitting up, glassy-eyed but very much okay paled in comparison to those tinglingly familiar words.
âWhy do I call you Marilyn Morose?â
Romanâs face that had been like a strangerâs for what must have been an eternity since heâd been injured suddenly filled out in all those right places. That lopsided grin that sent Virgilâs heart fluttering and his head in the clouds threatened to pull him away before he could do what heâd been wanting to do.
âRoman!â
It was all so fast. One moment the air of the room was flying by him at the speed of sound and the next he was pressed up against that achingly familiar chest. The slight pressure of inhale and exhale was already enough to nearly overwhelm Virgilâs already overwhelmed senses.
âYou remember! You... remember! â Virgilâs voice broke as his whole body shuddered with the force his silent sobs.
Digging his hands in Romanâs hospital gown, Virgil let his still trembling hands grab on tight to the anchor he had been losing.
The sudden hand on his head had his body tensing only a moment as the warm hand of Roman came through the touch, that familiar assurance with that frustratingly adorable delicateness Virgil had always pushed back against. He didnât need that babying type treatment. He wasnât- hadnât been threatening to break the moment Roman had been the barest bit reckless.
A hand gripped his. Pulling him along in a crowd, the strange mix of fear and excitement as they navigated through unfamiliar territory that normally wouldâve had him running for the hills. A hand gripped his. The sunset making Romanâs face shine with all the beauty Virgil saw in him.
A hand gripped his.
âVirgil?â
Blinking, Virgilâs body tensed as the uncomfortable angle of his head against Romanâs chest had the whole room at a nearly stomach churning angle that had him suddenly pulling back. His hands strangely anchored the bed, a tentative flex found them where they shouldâve been all along.
Linked in Romanâs.
The world blurring, Virgil wiped his free arm against his brow as if Roman didnât have front row seats to the tears flowing from his eyes.
âOh⌠Sorry Roman⌠I- uh⌠got carried away? I- You didnât remember and now you might-â Virgilâs voice broke before Virgil swallowed and screwed his eyes shut as he pressed his free hand to his mouth.
A gentle squeeze on his hand stopped Virgilâs spiraling thoughts in its tracks.
Virgil opened his eyes to finally meet Romanâs. And for the first moment, the wave of emotion once again threatened to overwhelm Virgil, but as Virgilâs own hand squeezed back, his surroundings suddenly slammed back into his awareness.
He was in a hospital bed. On top of his boyfriend. Logan and Patton were there. He was in the hospital. He was on top of his injured boyfriend. His boyfriend was injured. He was in public! He was on top of his injured boyfriend. He was hurting his boyfriend in public!
Scrambling back, Virgil tried his best to steer clear of the IV and the various other cords coming off of Roman. His friends were talking, but all Virgilâs vision was concerned with was making sure his knees didnât hit one of those way too close machines that kept Roman alive (probably).
Only after both Virgilâs feet were on the ground did the grip on his wrist filter into his awareness.
You hurt him. Worthless. Canât stop doing it. Deathâs grip.
âVirgil! Slow down! Breathe for me.â Romanâs lilting voice pulled Virgil out of his tailspin of panic that clouded his thoughts.
Following the line of his arm, Virgil ran his eyes up the familiar hand up to Romanâs very familiar eyes. Blinking for a moment, Virgil snatched his wrist back as his eyes widened and his breathing began to pick up. Virgilâs lungs held the ghost of the hyperventilation he probably had as his thoughts had consumed him, but only now did the inhale and exhale of air finally drown out the still slowly unspooling yarn of Virgil thoughts.
âVirgil? Are you hurt? Whatâs happening?â Romanâs voice came raw and trembling with the slightest bit of concern.
The irony of the statement to Virgil punched out a laugh, a high, manic laugh that shakes Virgilâs whole body until his limbs were suddenly the consistency of jello and the bed was coming to greet him-
âVirgil!â
Romanâs voice called out as the arms around him lifted him away from the hospital bed like being plucked by a powerful being from the face of the earth.
Turned around by their grasp and lowered to the bed, the last few twitches of manic hilarity finally smoothed out as he breathed in deep, gazing up at the ceiling with eyes cast a thousand miles away.
It was at the warm hand that was so distinctly Roman in itâs curve that Virgilâs lips parted after such a silence.
âHahaâŚâ The ghost of an ache came with the weak laugh through Virgilâs chest. âYouâre- youâre concerned about me ? You- Youâre hurt- Donât even remember who I am anymore and youâre asking if Iâm okay?â
The arms around him fall away as the anxious energy finally comes pouring out of his body, that rambling energy unfurling. Heâs pacing back and forth from the bed, wringing his hands as his words come faster and faster.
âIf anyone should be worried it should be me and youâre- You should not- Why didnât I just-â
Approaching the bed once again, Virgilâs eyes remained downcast. Perhaps that was why the sharp tug on his shirt came as such a surprise.
Warm lips. They were on his. He⌠RomanâŚ
For the second time that day, Virgil melted into the kiss. A heady smell of everything Roman whisking his thoughts to the back of his mind.
But nothing lasted forever, all too soon their lips separated and the buzz of endorphins made Virgilâs head spin even as the fact Roman still probably had no clue who exactly he was knocked against the corners of his mind. Out of all the concepts and words that couldâve left his mouth, the one that did was: âWhy?â
As Virgilâs body tensed at the pure cringe of just asking why, Loganâs voice came from behind him.
âVirgil? Are you done panicking?â The words in any other mouth other than his and Patton would be filled with derision, but instead Loganâs had a soft concern that blew away most of the tension in him.
Virgil shuffled his feet as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. A slight flush of his cheeks was the only thing to betray the act that Virgil had likely forgotten his other friends were even there.
Roman snorted as he wordlessly guided Virgil to lay his head on Romanâs chest.
âYeah, panic at the disco, you thinking about anything else other than my lips?â Virgil could not even describe the sound that came from his mouth as he buried his face in hands even as Romanâs finger began to make their way tinglingly through his likely greasy hair.
âI couldnât resist, although⌠knowing panic at the disco is new, but it felt right. Maybe Iâve used it before.â Virgil tenseed as Romanâs body moved under him, but the singular up and down movement clued Virgil quickly into the shrug that it was. âBut to answer your question, I dreamed⌠something. A- a memory? I-â
âWait I have to get this down, the doctor will want to know patient response.â Logan interrupted, ignoring the very pointed glare Virgil was sending his way as he scrounged for something in his bag. Eventually, he found a pen and paper and poised them in preparation.
âNow Iâm ready, go onâ Logan prompted, eyes wide and, Virgil could swear, a little teary. But Patton leaned over fondly, placing his hand on Loganâs dominant hand with his pen.
âLolo. I think Virgil might strangle you if you do that again.â
âNot might. Will. Please go on Roman, before anyone gets ideas about interrupting again.â Virgil growled, only stopping when one of the hands running through his hair cam down to squeeze one of Virgilâs free hands.
âIâm fine, my⌠spitfire?â Romanâs chest rumbled in low disapproval. âNot my best nickname, but Logan was fine. I promise. If- WhenâŚ? I get my memory back, itâll be funny to laugh at Loganâs⌠continued quest for knowledge. Yeah⌠that feels⌠rightâŚâ
Virgil inclined his eyes up as far as theyâd go to focus on Roman, but found he was just out of sight from where Virgil was laying on him.
âPrincey- Roman?â
Romanâs chest bounced Virgilâs head once again with a short laugh escaping Romanâs lips.
âThatâs⌠thatâs what dream you called me. âPrincey.â And well⌠uhâŚâ Virgil leaned himself up on one elbow to finally get a good look at Romanâs face only to find Romanâs gaze cast aside and his cheeks stained a rich red. Virgilâs head tilted, a ghost of a smirk on his face as he looked at an apparently very flustered Roman
âWhat? Youâve only gotten this red before your amnesia when I surprise kiss you. And Iâve already done thatâŚâ Virgil let his voice fade out as Romanâs cheeks only grew redder in response to Virgil.
âWait. I kissed you in the dream? Whatâs different about when I did it⌠um⌠whenever I did it?â Virgil pursued his lips lightly, the memory of the past few days in the hospital swirling into a blur of fragmented moments. Surely nothing to do with the jaw-splitting yawn that escaped from his lips.
âWell-! Because⌠in the dream⌠I loved you. I mean- I felt was it was like to- to love you.â Somehow, impossibly, Romanâs cheeks managed to grow even redder. âAnd- I- I want that. I want that to be real⌠again? Or continue to be real? I- I donât knowâŚâ
Virgilâs heart hammered in his chest, seizing as Romanâs face began to fall. He would not let his, current status ambiguous, boyfriend feel any kind of guilt. This was not his fault that he didnât know.
Cupping Romanâs face, Virgilâs heart only grew faster as Romanâs eyes finally made their way back to his. Gently, he wiped away the beginnings of a tear falling down Romanâs face.
âRoman. Do not ever feel pressured to be my boyfriend, and I mean full boyfriend, unless you remember fully what that means. You are my magnificent boyfriend, but I would never want you to try to be someone you donât remember for someone you donât remember. Take your time. Iâll be here, but please ~!â Virgil placed a gentle kiss on Roman's forehead. âI can wait until the stars go out for you to remember and that would never change my love for you.â
âV- Virgil. F- fuck.â Romanâs lip trembled a moment before he pulled Virgil into a fierce hug, with a wince that made Virgilâs own chest throb with pain. The memory of Roman desperately fighting and delirious rocketed through Virgilâs mind without permission. Virgil bit his lip.
âItâs okay⌠Itâs going to be okayâŚâ Virgil soothed, his eyes fluttering as his legs came up beside Romanâs on the bed his head coming to rest back on Romanâs familiar chest.
Maybe he could close his eyes for a minuteâŚ
Annoyingly, Logan asked a question to Roman again, something about what exactly happened in his dream. Romanâs chest rumbled under his ear in response, something about a wedding. A pair of fingers ran through his hair
He justâŚ
He just⌠neededâŚ
A minuteâŚ
-
Roman smiled down at the lightly snoring ball of black and purple curled up on his chest, still running his fingers through his hair. That idiot was finally getting the rest he needed. Roman didnât have to remember anything to understand that Virgil shouldâve gone the fuck to sleep well before Roman had woken up.
Roman placed a gentle kiss on Virgilâs forehead.
âGood night, sweet prince.â











