Hi ! Here is my second contribution to the big bang by @ts-storytime where i was paired up with @because-were-fam-ily for their amazing fic ! Heed the warnings as usual but it is a mostly fluffy fic with characters using different sets of pronouns and having different kinds of relationships with each others. I just loved it so much, please give it a read if you can !
[ID: a digitally colored ink drawing of Virgil and Logan sitting next to each other in the café. Logan is reading and Virgil is looking at them with tears in faer eyes, resting faer hear in faer hand and still holding a cleaning rag in the other. Virgil has long hair dyed purple, a light purple shirt and a blue apron with a cupcake logo, Logan has short dark brown hair held back with star bobby pins, they're wearing a light blue shirt with a checkered dark grey vest. Around them are two wooden tables with blue chairs, a corner with a coffee table and bean bags, a pride flag on the wall and fairy lights near the ceiling./end ID]
[ID: a digitally colored pencil drawing of logan and patton on the couch. the room is dark and illuminated by the tv glow. patton is laying with his head on logan's lap, his back to us. He is wearing a stripped blue and white shirt and dark pants, he has light curly hair. Logan is sitting up against the back of the couch, threading their hands in patton's hair and looking at him fondly. They are wearing a yellow hoodie with a cartoonish solar system on it, blue pants and their hair is falling into their eyes. /end ID]
[ID: a fully colored digital drawing of the four of them seated at a restaurant table with vague shadows of other people behind them. Virgil is in the foreground, faer back to us. Fae are wearing a leather jacket, a long pleated purple skirt and have faer hair in a loose ponytail with a bow. Fae are smiling and holding a glass of wine. Patton appears behind virgil, excitedly talking about something. he os wearing a blue shirt with a black bowtie. Roman is seated opposite from virgil smiling sofly and looking at their partners. their hair is fashioned into a bun and held by a white flower while a few strands fall in front of their face. They are wearing a white dress with sheer puffy sleeves and a fully embroidered front with red flowers and green leaves. Theyare holding a champagne glass. Logan is between Virgil and roman and is visibly smiling and talking with limited hand movements. They have their hair styled and wear a black shirt, blue tie and blue trousers. The entire drawing is overlayed with a pink to blue gradient (top to bottom) and have little specks of light floating around. /end ID]
there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword
AO3
(i have missed. so many days but tsus day 8- anaroceit!! you can find the challenge @emy-loves-you)
Summary:
This is where he’s meant to be- fighting. Does it matter if he wins or loses?
tws for sword fighting, brief mention of shitty parenting, anyway take ur homoerotic magic sword fight <3
A shower of sparks flew up into the air, and Roman felt a smile grow on his face. This was where he was meant to be, fighting on the battlefield, sparkles flying out of one hand and a sword in the other as he deflected arrows gracefully.
"Princey, stop thinking and fight!" A gruff voice called, and he flushed, ignoring the critiques that were hurled at his opponent. Another arrow flew at his face, glowing yellow, and he grinned, dodging it lazily. Too easy.
What he hadn't accounted for was the arrow following his movements, the blunt tip clipping his ear and making him wince. He whipped around to his opponent, eyes closed in discomfort, "I thought you didn't know magic! That's not fai-"
His remark was cut off when he was kicked in the chest, a small 'eep' escaping him when he fell backwards.
Janus stood over him, sheathing his bow and smirking down at him in a way that should have been illegal. He was still somehow completely neat and tidy, and Roman was suddenly so much more aware of his tousled hair, tangled sash, general dishevelled-ness and the blush that was probably on his face from both exertion and his current situation. He laughed nervously, fingers tracing a rune in the air discreetly as he tried to stall.
"So...lovely weather, isn't it?" The sky chose that moment to cloud over completely and Roman cursed it under his breath.
Janus looked at him with amusement, "Are you aware that you've lost?"
He was nearly done. Nearly. He just had to draw the same thing again and he would have it. "Well, I mean, that depends on how you look at it-" His voice sounded high pitched and strangled, even to him, and the deadpan look on Janus's face told him that he wasn't the only one hearing it.
"...Right. Well I'm sure that now you realise-" A loud bang cut him off, and he jumped off Roman, inspecting the ice fractals that were creeping up his leg in interest. "Oh? I see you've learnt a new spell, haven't you Princess?"
He bounced up, shaking off the nickname and raising his sword at him, "Yep! It's apparently called Frost Bind! Sounds a little obvious to me, but it's cool anyway."
"Just...wait for me to gain feeling and control of my leg again, please? Just to make this a fair fight." He sat down on the stone floor, looking up innocently at the blinking royal.
Pouting, he levelled his gaze at Janus, "Well, who am I supposed to fight then?"
Janus averted his gaze upwards, looking smug, and Roman tried to spin around in confusion, only to be met by a cold blade at his throat, an arm thrown around his shoulders and a breath at his ear. His breath hitched. Virgil.
"Awww, forgot about me already." They asked into Roman's ear, the sword going slightly lax when he let out a shuddering breath.
Gently, he zapped Virgil with a glyph, their grip on Roman weak enough for him to squirm out, pointing his sword at them with what was supposed to be a threatening look on his face. Judging by Virgil's, it wasn't very effective.
"Fie, villain! I won't let you win!" He was grinning now, caught up in the mayhem as their swords clashed, Roman adding non-lethal magic into the mix, being careful not to harm the non-witch too bad.
Which was his first mistake.
In a flurry of movement, they twisted his sword out of hands, the ruby studded blade clanging when it hit the ground. "Hey! That's my sword!"
They raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not completely defenceless, you have magic, remember?"
He blushed. He might have forgotten about that. Spell circles threaded through his grip as he flung ice spell after ice spell at them, but he knew he was losing. Every time Virgil swung their sword, he had to step back, his clothes gaining too many rips and tears in the process. His mother was going to kill him.
So caught up in his thoughts, he didn't realise he couldn't back up any further until the cold wall hit his back. His ice spell shattered in his hands, showering both of them in a thin layer of snow and ice shards.
"Got yourself in a little predicament there, huh?" They smirked, sword again at Roman's throat and hand planted on the wall to keep them standing. Their face seemed to taunt Roman just by existing, and they were just standing there. Not saying anything anymore, not doing anything, just pressing the flat end of their blade against Roman's throat and boxing him against the wall in a way that was entirely unfair.
Their eyes were purple, he noted, purple and shining with happiness at getting to fight their loves. They were just...pretty. More than pretty- they were exquisite.
The sound of a spell being cast broke him out of his reverie, and he startled, looking over Virgil's shoulder (which was hard, seeing as the other was much taller than him even when not wearing his platform boots) at the caster. Janus was standing there, a faux-bored look pasted on his face and something wistful in his eyes. He had summoned Virgil's sword, which neither of them had noticed worming out of their grasp until it was too late.
The two at the wall exchanged glances before Virgil stepped back to let Roman move and they ran at Janus, smushing him from either side with a hug.
"Our sneaky snakey!"
"So cunning!"
"So smart!"
"Good snake!"
"Boop noodle!"
"Judgemental shoelace!"
He shoved them away, face flushed and glaring at their matching grins, badly stifling a laugh. "Alright, alright, I get it! You dorks, stop!"
Virgil rolled their eyes playfully, "Fine. Do you wanna go get ice cream or something?"
"Virgil, if we leave the grounds my parents will literally murder me in my sleep." Roman sighed, trying to hide his smile and look serious.
They grinned, the look in their eyes reassuring him that he didn't have to say yes, "Which makes it all the more fun!"
He looked at his two loves standing there, and against his better judgement, he nodded.
Fighting his loves was fun, even if he always lost.
Summary: Logan was a knight. As such, it was his duty to protect and guard the prince. No matter the sacrifice, Logan would always make it for his prince- even if it might cost him his life.
Content: Major character injury, major injury, stabbing/stab wounds, blood/coughing up blood, hiding injuries, being caught trying to hide injuries, collapsing, some not listening to a doctor/medic, talk of death/dying (but no actual death), talk of grief, poor self-care, a bit of panic, Logan thinks Roman’s going to kill him for one scene because Logan’s exhausted and prone to panicking, cuddling + literally sleeping together, despite the pain the bois are Somft and this fic does have a happy ending
Pairing: QPR (technically ambiguous but meant to be QPR) Logince
Notes: do NOT do what Logan did in this fic, he was being a big himbo, if you are hurt TELL SOMEONE. Also this fic is ~8.6k don’t read if you’ve got things to be doing
~
There were a lot of things Logan didn’t like about battles. They were loud. There were too many people. Blood really didn’t smell that good, especially mixed in with sweat. They almost always ended with him getting injured.
Though Logan had to admit, he normally didn’t get injured this bad.
It hadn’t been his fault, not really- a bad parry that had left his enemy’s sword in his chest instead of out of their hands, that was all, but it had still happened and Logan was still left clutching at his chest and grinding his teeth together as he finished off the handful of enemies still standing around him. He was lucky it was a late-battle injury- he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if there were still hundreds of troops to fight off.
As soon as he dispatched his last combatant, Logan let out a groan, planting his sword in the ground and leaning on the hilt of it as he glanced at his injury. It was bad, even an idiot could tell that- the sword had gone all the way through his chest, blood staining his uniform on both sides as he watched. Given where it was located, Logan was lucky he wasn’t coughing up blood.
Logan sighed. That couldn’t be ignored (according to his fellow knights and prince, none of his injuries could be ignored; this was just one of the few times Logan agreed with them).
Pulling the ‘temporary skin’ potion off of where it hung from his hip, Logan smeared the sticky liquid across both sides of his wound, watching as skin that was an angry-red colour stretched over the cut. It wasn’t a good solution, he was well aware of that- it wasn’t going to stop all the bleeding, and the fake skin would soon break down; it was meant to be used in severe emergencies only, after all- but it would take care of the issue for the moment, and that was all Logan needed.
Certain that his wound was taken care of for the present, Logan finally sheathed his sword and made his way over to where the rest of the knights had gathered, patching themselves up and taking head counts of the various squadrons. Though he spared a glance about as he pushed through the various groups, Logan was more focused on getting to his primary charge.
“I’m dying, I tell you, dying! Call the will-writers, the cask-makers, the mourners! I shall never make it back to the castle!”
Sounded like he was doing fine.
Stepping past the final row of ambling soldiers, Logan smiled despite the pain that was still pulsing in his chest when he spotted Roman. The prince was sitting next to his horse, propped up by a rock he must have found for the express purpose of laying against dramatically while a soldier attempted to do something with his leg.
“Your highness, it’s not as severe of an issue as you seem to think it is.” The soldier tried to assure Roman. Logan shook his head. They must be new.
“I don’t think you understand, dear knight, I am DYING! This shall be the wound that ends me. To think that such a prince of power and awe might be taken out by such a mild battle is hard to believe, I know, but it is the truth!” Roman proclaimed, laying his hand over his forehead and leaning backwards in full dramatics. “Do not remember me like this, I plead, but instead as I was in battle, a mighty force of strength and-”
“I believe that is enough out of you, your highness.” Logan interrupted, coming over and taking over for the soldier who had been helping Roman. They passed the gauze in their hand over to Logan in relief, happy to walk away and allow Logan to take up their task- wrapping the long cut running up the side of Roman’s right leg.
“Logan! My dear knight!” Roman greeted excitedly, smiling up at Logan despite his earlier cries of ultimate pain and death. “Have you come to witness my demise?”
“Considering your wound seems to only bear the potential for severe complications at worst, I find it doubtful you shall be dying today, your highness.” Logan said in amusement as he set about securing the bandages around Roman’s cut.
“How dare you defy your prince’s sound and always unerring judgement.” Roman reprimanded, though he was still smiling, tone teasing. “And I’ve told you before, Lo, call me Roman. I can only hear so many people call me ‘your highness’ before I go mad.”
“As you wish, your highness.” Logan responded, smirking when Roman rolled his eyes. “Now, Roman, do you require a healing potion for your grievous injury?”
“I think I would rather suffer. It is the way of the hero, after all!”
“Suffering needlessly when there are resources available to aid you is not heroic- it’s simply foolish.” Logan corrected. “May I fetch you a potion or shall I be forced to suffer your complaints throughout the entirety of the return journey?”
Roman sighed, holding it out for almost an entire minute before he said, “Fine. But only if no one else requires it.”
Logan nodded, noting the seriousness in Roman’s voice. For all his dramatics, the prince valued all of his subjects and had a borderline stupid tendency to always put their well-being before his own. “I will go check. Do you think you can survive a minute without me?”
“If I must…”
With a chuckle that was cut short by the stabbing pain it caused right where his wound was, Logan stood and walked over to where the designated medic was. The title was little more than honorific, indicating only that they held the bag of healing potions and not that they were an actual medic. Actual medics rarely came along to battles, especially to ones so close to base.
“Medic.” Logan addressed, catching the designated medic’s attention. “How are the troops?”
“Attended to.” The designated medic replied. “All soldiers have been patched up and healed as necessary.”
Logan nodded once. “Healing potions?”
“We have one left.” The designated medic replied, reaching into their satchel and removing a small vial of bright orange-pink liquid. “Do you require it?”
“The prince does.” Logan answered, and the designated medic nodded, passing the vial to Logan. Barely a moment after, they were called for, and they gave Logan another nod in farewell before heading off in the direction of the call.
Left by himself, Logan looked down at the vial in hand, biting the bottom of his lip. On one hand, the potion would greatly help him- if nothing else, it would certainly dull the pain of his injury, which would likely have been unbearable if Logan wasn’t so good at ignoring it.
On the other, Roman was hurt. Not gravely so, but he was still injured. And with the chance of infections or further damaging of the injury, the cut being left untreated could pose a serious risk to Roman’s health.
Plus, he was the prince. It was Logan’s duty and honor to serve him and keep him safe above all else, himself included.
So, ignoring the steady pulse of pain in his chest, Logan kept the vial corked and returned to Roman. He resumed his position beside Roman, this time closer to his head than his leg as he offered the vial to him.
“Your potion.” Logan said, quirking up the corner of his mouth. “I hope it will bring you away from the doorstep of death you seem to have found yourself on.”
Roman accepted the potion, though he hesitated before taking it. “You are certain there is no other who needs this more than I?” He asked in confirmation.
“No one. All other warriors have been attended to.”
“Yourself included?” Roman asked, to which Logan titled his head and tried his best to look confused instead of possibly caught red-handed. “You’re drenched in blood, Lo.”
“It’s not mine.” Logan replied, which wasn’t a complete lie. Not all of it was his, after all. Just… a vast majority of it.
“Mhmm.” Roman hummed, in a way that suggested he just barely believed Logan. “Are you sure?”
“I assure you, Roman, I am just fine.” Logan lied, well aware that even a hint of hesitation from him would have Roman forcing him to take the potion even if Logan really was fine. “We leave for the castle soon. The sooner you ingest the potion, the sooner it can get to work, and the smoother your trip will be.”
Roman watched Logan for a moment longer, clearly searching for a lie, but eventually he opened the vial. “If you’re sure.” He said, in a soft voice that suggested he was choosing to trust Logan in this, trust that he was okay and Roman was the one in greater need of the potion.
Logan didn’t flinch as he nodded. “I am.”
And with that assurance, Roman drank the healing potion, and Logan let out a small sigh of relief. The potion should kick in near immediately, reducing Roman’s injury down to little more than a scratch in a few hours and hopefully stave off any chance of infection in minutes, which meant that for the moment, Roman was safe.
Of course, Logan still had a barely-addressed hole in his chest, but he was ignoring that perfectly well, so he was fine. Or, at least, he’d be fine long enough to make it back to the castle, where there’d be more healing potions and actual medics whose services he could use without taking anything from Roman.
“Now that,” Roman said as he swallowed the potion, grinning as a bit more colour came to his cheeks and a lot more theatrics came into his tone, “may have just saved my life. You are truly a lifesaver, my dear knight.”
“I think the potion is more what helped you than I, my prince.” Logan said, standing up and offering a hand to help pull Roman up.
“Yes, but you brought me that potion.” Roman countered, taking the proffered hand and allowing Logan to help get him on his feet. Logan bit his lip as he did so, trying to ignore how the motion pulled on his temporary skin and made his wound ache. “Therefore, you saved my life.”
“If that is what you wish to believe.” Logan returned, assisting Roman in mounting his horse as to ensure minimal strain was put on Roman’s leg wound. Of course, this ended up putting more strain on his own injury, but Logan once more ignored the ache. “Are you ready to begin the march back to the castle?”
Roman took a moment to answer, settling himself in his saddle before he nodded. “Let us return to tell grand tales of our conquest!”
Logan scoffed before he started calling out orders to the troops, the men picking themselves up as best they could and falling into place, lined up and prepared for the journey back to the castle. It took them a couple of minutes to finish organizing themselves, but soon enough, everyone was in order, and Logan gave the signal to begin walking. As the knights behind him started moving, Logan took up his own position at the side of Roman’s horse.
At first, all was as it always was for the journey back to the castle- the sound of nearly identical footfalls against the ground was comforting in its familiarity, as were Roman’s random and slightly asinine remarks (normally about ‘facts’ about the surrounding wildlife), and despite the fact that his wound seemed to pulse with every step, the pain was manageable. It seemed that while Logan would be quite exhausted by the time they reached the castle, he wouldn’t be too badly off overall.
But that was before the coughing started.
It had only been an hour or two since the march had begun, the ache in Logan’s chest having been steadily growing but not doing much more than annoying him. Roman was in the middle of trying to explain to Logan why country birds were so dully coloured in relation to the concrete existence of Dragon Witches when Logan first coughed, dutifully coughing into his elbow and not thinking much of it.
At least, until he realized that he hadn’t just coughed- he had coughed up blood.
It wasn’t that much, not really, just a droplet or two, but the bright red colour still stood out against the dull blues and dried reds of his bloodstained uniform. Logan’s eyes widened at the sight and he hastened to rub it away, blending it in with the other stains. It was likely just the result of… of a cut in his mouth, or something equally mundane- it was nothing to worry Roman over, and worry Roman would if he realized Logan was coughing up blood, no matter the reason for it.
Rubbing the last of the stain away into the side of his uniform, Logan tried to put the incident out of mind. He was sure it was just a one-off thing.
That was, until he coughed again. And again. And on and on, single coughs turning into clusters that Logan was worried would soon progress into fits. He had managed to keep the prince from noticing thus far, both the coughs and the slowly increasing amounts of blood they carried with them, but if he couldn’t figure out a way to get them better under control and soon, he would be caught.
Within the hour, his assumption proved to be correct- busy trying to cough as discreetly as possible, Logan fell behind Roman, who noticed his knight’s absence almost immediately. Though Logan managed to hide the blood before Roman looked back at him, he wasn’t able to mask the fact that he had been coughing.
“Logan, are you alright?” Roman asked, slowing his horse a bit as Logan hurried to resume his position beside Roman. “You’ve been coughing an awful lot…”
“I’m fine, you- Roman.” Logan responded, catching the formality while also trying to focus on not beginning coughing again. “I believe something has gotten in my throat, that is all.”
“Do you need us to stop, my dear knight?” Roman asked, tone softer than Logan would have expected when using that nickname. It was a joke, after all, a reference back to when Roman had first called Logan ‘dear knight’ and had been met by Logan telling him he was not Roman’s ‘dear.’ So, of course, Roman went about calling him ‘my dear knight’ ever since. It was meant to be teasing, not sincere. “We can take a break if you need to catch your breath.”
“That will not be necessary, but thank you.” Logan said respectfully. Taking a break would only increase the amount of time it took him to reach the castle and receive help. “I do not want to delay our journey.”
“It will be no hassle.”
“Still, I must insist we continue.” Logan reiterated, refusing to allow the stop. Though he appreciated Roman’s concerns, stopping would do him little good.
“Alright.” Roman relented, though he continued to watch Logan worriedly. Aware of the prince’s gaze, Logan tried to stifle the cough attempting to rise in his throat, but he only managed to keep it at bay for a few minutes before he was back to splattering blood on the arm of his uniform, making sure to keep the bend of his elbow tight and close to him so that Roman couldn’t see the new red stains.
“Are you certain you’re okay?” Roman asked, the question rhetorical as he quickly pressed on before Logan had the chance to answer, “I know you do not wish to delay us, but you seem to truly need a rest. If it would suit you better, I would not mind parting with or sharing my stead. It would hardly take a minute to arrange- it would be no hindrance to our journey.”
At this offer, Logan hesitated. The thought of not having to walk anymore was enticing, he had to admit. Without having to exert himself in any way, Logan would have more air and energy, which, if nothing else, would make the rest of his journey to the castle at least a little less painful.
But the consequences of the possible actions weren’t nearly as positive- either Roman would be forced to walk, aggravating his leg wound and possibly reopening it, or the two of them would ride together and would definitely be forced to endure the criticism and rumors of the high court. Logan knew perfectly well there had already been plenty of less-than-kind words about his and Roman’s relationship that had spawned from the fact that he talked to Roman slightly more often than other knights- he didn’t want to see what sort of scandal them sharing a horse could cause.
So, once more, he found himself refusing the idea. “That is a very kind offer of you, my prince, but I assure you that my legs are fit to carry me and that I am fit to walk.”
Roman let out a breath. “You know, Logan, for all you call me stubborn and head-strong, you often display those very traits.” He commented, sounding both amused and still worried, though Logan was relieved to find the amusement seemed to be out-weighing the worry. Roman leaned backwards on his horse, rummaging around in one of its satchel bags before he pulled out a canteen. He then shifted his position, proffering the canteen to Logan. “At least have some water? To soothe your throat, since it is clear I cannot convince you to rest it.”
Logan hesitated a moment before accepting the container. If it would make Roman feel better about his well-being, it couldn’t hurt to have a sip.
He was careful as he drank, not wanting any excess blood in his mouth to stain the lip of the canteen or end up in the water. It was worth it, however, the lukewarm water still nice against his sore-from-coughing throat.
After a sip slightly longer than he likely should have taken, Logan returned the lid to the top of the canteen and tried to hand it back to Roman. But the prince shook his head.
“Keep it.” He said, waving his hand as if to dismiss the idea that he would take his canteen back. “You need it more than I.”
Logan didn’t fight him this time, simply nodding his head and muttering a “Thank you, my prince.” before he hooked the canteen onto his hip. Roman nodded as well, watching Logan a moment longer before he set his eyes forward on the road ahead, seemingly reassured by the fact that Logan had accepted some help, if not much.
And for a while, his reassurance seemed sound- aided by the water, Logan was able to beat back more of his coughs, though the taste of blood remained ever-present in his mouth. With the majority of Logan’s coughing abated, Roman went back to narrating their journey, featuring many incorrect facts and legends. It was that inattention that caused him to miss when Logan ran out of water, and to miss when Logan’s coughing once more turned ‘ugly.’
Logan, on the other hand, was completely unable to miss either of these things, nor was he able to miss just how much blood he coughed up this time. Even rubbing his arm against the side of his uniform, he was only able to hide so much of it. Grimacing at the bright red stains, Logan tucked his arm against his chest, hoping that would be enough to keep the fresh blood out of Roman’s sight, biting back on the cough he could already feel building in the back of his throat as well.
Predictably, he wasn’t able to smother the cough, and the following coughing fit had him once more following behind Roman. The amount of blood he was coughing up now was unhealthy, he could tell at a glance, a fact that was only reinforced by the dizzying headache that was beginning to plague him.
“Logan?” Roman’s voice got his attention, Logan looking up as soon as he had smeared the last of the blood on his lips off on his uniform, once more pressing his arm to his side. Roman’s gaze was focused on Logan, looking deeply concerned. “I hate to sound repetitive, but are you certain you are well? Because you really don’t look well.”
Forcing himself to straighten up and clear his throat, Logan ignored the much-too-present taste of blood in his mouth and once more pushed himself to resume his position next to Roman as he replied, “I do not mind the repetition, my highness, so long as you don’t mind that my answer remains unchanged- I am perfectly alright.”
Roman’s concern only seemed to grow at that answer, however, a look of confusion also coming into his eyes. He held Logan’s gaze for a moment, Logan trying to stop himself from erupting into another coughing fit as he did so, before he raised his hand and called out, “Halt troops!”
Near immediately, the troops around them stopped marching, squadron leaders calling out to stop those too far out from Roman to hear his direct order. Logan held his composure as well as he could as Roman dismounted his horse, coming over to stand directly in front of Logan.
“My highness?” Roman repeated. Logan frowned, unsure why he’d feel the need to once bring attention to that, unless-
Placing a hand to his head, Logan turned his eyes downwards. “Apologies, Roman, I didn’t mean-”
“That’s not the problem here, Logan.” Roman interrupted, prompting Logan to once more look up at him, tilting his own head slightly in confusion. Roman was frowning now as well, though he still seemed to be nothing more than distressed by Logan. “Plenty of people have mixed up ‘my’ and ‘your’ before, but never you. You’ve been lying to me about being fine, and while I’m not going to hold that against you, the lies must stop now. Something’s wrong. What is it?”
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Roman, I’m-” Logan was cut off by the coughing fit he had been suppressing, doubling over even as he pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to stop the coughs. All he succeeded in doing, however, was covering his hand in blood, coughs continuing to spill out of his mouth despite him.
“Logan?!” Roman cried out next to him, and Logan could just barely tell that the prince had grabbed his other arm, offering a balance that Logan likely would have fallen over already without. He was more focused on his coughing and the new ache in his torso, a tearing one that was soon followed by gushing warmth down his back and chest as his temporary skin broke down, likely from the strain he had been putting on it with all his coughing. “Oh, I’nago, that’s a lot of blood- Lo? Logan!”
Against his every wish, the world was fading away from Logan, darkness taking over the edges of his vision and spilling into the forefront of it as well. He lost his footing, coughing even as he fell forward. His awareness was all but gone, the feeling of arms holding him up and the sound of panicked yelling around him fading out with the rest of the vision as he slipped into blessed, painless unconscious.
~
Consciousness didn’t return to Logan quickly, or nicely, or even cleanly. Which was probably fair- Logan hadn’t exactly dealt with his issues quickly or nicely or cleanly. But that didn’t make it fun to deal with.
Logan wasn’t sure how long he was stuck in the in-between of awake and asleep, only getting glimpses and fleeting moments of reality- the steady thump of a horse running as someone held him close, the sounds of someone panicky and someone calm yelling at each other, someone softly running their hands over his arms and mumbling gentle nonsense to him, and pain. So, so much pain.
But eventually, he did wake up.
The room he was in was dark, the few lights that were in the room purposefully dim. Logan chose to be thankful for that, squinting against even the low light. What details of the room he could make out were foreign to him, the bed beneath him unfamiliar and the furniture around the room of a design he couldn’t recognize.
An inn room, then, or some other stopping place between the castle and wherever the troops had been when Logan had collapsed. Even though Logan couldn’t remember there being any inns or towns or such on the road to and from the battlefield, that had to be the answer- if he was at the castle, he would be in his own quarters, and these were most certainly not his quarters.
Soon enough, Logan’s search of the room led to him spotting the stranger sitting at his bedside. They were dressed in a dark cloak that concealed the majority of their features, a book open in their lap, seemingly ignoring Logan. Before he could say anything to them, however, their gaze flicked up, and they locked eyes with Logan.
“Finally.” They said, sounding relieved in the most annoyed way possible as they placed their book to the side. They scooted their chair closer to the bed, reaching into their cloak and pulling out a vial of something dark purple with hints of gold. They tugged the cap off before putting it up to Logan’s lips. “Drink.”
Tired and confused, Logan did as he was told without thinking, swallowing the potion despite the slightly acidic taste it had. The stranger pulled the vial away when Logan was finished, recapping it before they put it back in their cloak.
“Who are you?” Logan rasped after a minute passed in silence, the stranger seemingly content to not tell Logan anything as they looked him over.
“Virgil.” They answered curtly. “And don’t speak.”
Logan, deciding he had too many questions to remain silent, ignored them. “Why are you here? Why am I here?”
“I’m a medic, and we’re both here because someone thought hiding their massive internal injury was a good idea.” Virgil snapped. “Now shut up. You need to be resting.”
“Where am I?”
Virgil sighed, raking a hand down the side of their face. “Stubborn, of course- you’re worse than the prince, and that’s saying something.”
Logan’s eyes widened at the mention of the prince and he moved to sit up, the need to find Roman and ensure he was okay a sudden and rather illogical need, but a need he had to chase anyways.
That was, until Virgil’s hands landed on his shoulders a bit harsher than Logan felt strictly necessary and pushed him back down.
“Listen, using up your energy to ask pointless questions is one thing.” Virgil huffed as they moved from the armchair to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding Logan down. “But if you try to get up, you will break or tear something, and there are only so many times I can save your life. So for the love of Wycus- Do. Not. Move.”
Logan huffed as well, but he settled, and after eyeing him distrustingly for a moment, Virgil took their hands off of him.
“You never answered my question.” Logan brought up. “Where am I?”
“The prince’s chambers.”
More on reflex then by choice, Logan jerked upwards, immediately regretting the decision when pain shot through his chest and made the room spin. Once more, Virgil shoved him down, though Logan could’ve sworn they were gentler this time, recognizing the motion hadn’t exactly been fun for Logan.
“I will knock you out if you do anything else like that.” Virgil threatened, this time leaving one hand on Logan’s shoulder even as he raised a hand to cover his eyes, grimacing at how his head continued to pound even though he was no longer sitting up. “If you’re going to react like this every time your boyfriend is mentioned, I will make sure you do not so much as come within a squadron’s length of him until there is not a single scar left on your chest.”
“Prince Roman is not my boyfriend.” Logan corrected through a hiss of pain, moving his hand from his eyes to press against the site of his wound. He could tell that heavy gauze covered it now, even through the fabric of the shirt he realized he must have been changed into. “Why am I in his chambers? My own lodgings are right within this castle- that is where I always go to recover from battles, why is this one different?”
“That’s something you can ask your not-boyfriend.” Virgil responded, turning their head at the sound of a door opening. “Speak of Evil and find her amongst you.”
Careful to not truly sit up (Logan wholeheartedly believed Virgil would knock him out if he did so), Logan lifted his head as much as he could to see Roman. Though he was dressed in his royal robes, Roman seemed anything but grand- his head was held lower than usual and he seemed disheartened. Even after closing the door, he lingered in place for a moment, running a hand through his hair and looking down.
“Your highness,” Virgil called out, though the address was almost mocking, lacking the respect the title was meant to carry, “are you going to mope in the doorway forever? I don’t know how long your knight is going to be awake- I’d suggest you’d use your time more wisely, though I know wisdom is not your strong suit.”
Instantly, Roman perked up, turning in the direction of the bed with renewed interest. “He’s awake?” Roman asked pointlessly as he rushed over, his question answered as soon as Logan met his eyes. “Logan.”
“Your highness.” Logan responded in turn as he quickly scanned Roman. The prince seemed to be fine, no limp or bandages to be seen. He was okay. Of course, logically, Logan had already known he would be alright, but the reassurance of seeing it and knowing it for fact was dizzying (though that might have still been his injuries).
“I thought I told you to call me Roman.”
“Roman, then.” Logan corrected, even though he was certain Roman wouldn’t have cared right then what exactly Logan called him so long as Logan was awake enough to call him anything.
Beside him, Virgil groaned. “I can’t bear this.” They declared, removing their hand from Logan’s shoulder as they stood, heading for the door. They stopped when they came to Roman’s side, turning to face the prince as they ordered, “Do not let him move, do not let him stand, do not let him sit up or I will revoke your rights to see my patient. You two can talk as long as he is awake, but if he begins to show signs of tiring, he must rest. You know where to find me if he starts spasming.”
Finished, Virgil resumed their walk, leaving the room without another word. Roman watched them go, turning back towards Logan as soon as they were gone. “Apologies if they seemed… harsh.” Roman said, not moving from where he stood near the foot of Logan’s- Roman’s?- bed. “What they lack in bedside manner, however, they make up entirely with skill. I assure you that you are in good hands.”
“I have complete faith in all the castle’s laborers.” Logan responded. “Though I admit I do not believe I have met Virgil before. Are they new?”
Roman chuckled, pulling his fingers through his hair before he answered, “No, not at all- they’ve been with the castle for a very long time.”
Logan frowned. That couldn’t be possible- he knew nearly every medic employed to the service of the army, and he definitely knew all the old ones. Logan should have known them. “How is that possible?”
With another chuckle, Roman moved so that he was sitting on the bed beside Logan, looking him over in a way that almost seemed like he thought he’d never get to see Logan again. “They’re not an army medic, Lo. They’re the royal medic.”
“They’re- why am I being seen to by the royal medic?” Logan asked, fighting back the urge to sit up so that he could be on level with Roman. “Why am I in your chambers and not my own? What is going on?”
“What’s going on is that you were grievously injured, a fact you neglected to inform me of until you collapsed while coughing up blood, and I was worried.” Roman answered, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder, moving it down and up his arm at a steady pace. The motion was comforting and familiar, and muscles Logan didn’t realize he had tensed relaxed. “Virgil is the best medic there is. My room ensured you were safe, warm, and… and close. This was the absolute best place for your recovery.”
“I apologize for causing you undue worry, my prince, and you have been very kind in your hospitality.” Logan told him. “But I still don’t understand. There is nothing wrong with the troop medics or my room-”
“Four days.” Roman cut him off abruptly, the hand on Logan’s arm stilling for a moment. “You’ve been unconscious for four days.”
“I- what?!”
“You were so pale, Lo. You looked as if you almost didn’t have any blood left in you.” Roman continued on, tone growing distressed and his grip on Logan’s arm tightening. “You’d open your eyes for a moment and close then in the next, mumbling nonsense to yourself as you did, but you were never really awake, and sometimes you’d dream and keep trying to roll over and move even as me and Virgil held you down, and sometimes you’d whimper like you were hurting but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, and you did spasm a few times, and I thought you were going to die, Lo, I thought you were never going to really wake up again and I thought my last real memory of you was going to be you choking on your own blood as you tried to tell me you were alright and I thought-”
One of Logan’s hands shot forward then, grabbing Roman’s free hand and squeezing it hard, breaking up Roman’s train of thought and bringing his attention to Logan. He looked like a wreck, and he was sucking in breaths in a manner that suggested he was a few more spiraling thoughts from working himself into a panic attack.
“No words can properly express how sorry I am to have distressed you so greatly.” Logan said, trying to keep his voice steady and strong as he squeezed Roman’s hand again, keeping him grounded. “But I did not die. I’m right here, and I’m alive. You do not need to worry over that now.”
Roman squeezed back, raising their joined hands so that he could rest his forehead against them, taking in a deep breath. “I know. But I didn’t know that these past four days. If I didn’t give you the absolute best care, if I had taken any half-measures and then you died, I- I never would have been able to forgive myself.” He said, lifting his head so he could look at Logan, expression hurting and confused. “Why didn’t you tell me you had been injured?”
“You didn’t need to know.” Logan answered. “I was… I thought I was handling it.”
“You could’ve taken that healing potion.” Roman said, shaking his head. “Damnit, Logan, why didn’t you take that healing potion? You knew plenty well I didn’t need it, nor would I have minded if you had taken it, especially when you had a sword wound all the way through your chest!”
“You were the priority.” Logan responded, ignoring the renewed ache in his chest at the mention of his injury. “Your leg cut bore the risk of infection or worsening. You needed the potion.”
“I didn’t think I’d have to remind you of this, but you had a hole right through your chest!” Roman cried out, though his grasp on Logan’s hand remained gentle, his other hand having resumed running up and down Logan’s arm. “Anything that could have happened to my injury also could have happened to yours, and you had internal bleeding to deal with as well- I don’t care if I’m the priority, you needed that potion more than I did and we both know it.”
Logan shook his head, stopping when his headache flared at the motion. “It doesn’t matter. You were the priority. By default, you needed the potion more than I did.”
“The default shouldn’t matter when your life is on the line!”
“But it does!” Logan shouted back as well as he could despite his sore throat. “I’m a knight, Roman! My first and foremost duty is to protect the crown! It is my job to make sure you are okay above all else!”
“And you are my friend! If you had died, I wouldn’t be okay!” Roman yelled back, the fight rushing out of him as soon as he did. He squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand from Logan’s arm to press against them even as he refused to let go of Logan’s hand.
Logan didn’t know what else to do but sit in silence, processing the prince’s response as Roman composed himself.
“I haven’t known what to do with myself since you collapsed.” Roman admitted shakily, a hand still over his closed eyes as he spoke. “I’ve either been in here, watching over you, or wandering the castle halls. Nothing could hold my attention. Nothing… nothing seemed important when at any moment I could suddenly be stuck in a world without you in it.”
“There are other knights.” Logan offered, but it was weak. He was well aware that wasn’t what Roman meant, but it was an easier version of things to face than the real one.
Roman opened his eyes then, moving his hand so that Logan could see the tears welling at the corner of his eyes even as the prince smiled painfully, running his free hand through Logan’s hair. “None of them are my knight.” He said in response, tone having gentled into something sweet and fond.
Silence stretched for a moment after that, Roman continuing to run his hand through Logan’s hair as Logan processed his words. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out what he meant- he had said it out loud, for De’veo’s sake- but the open emotions that came with them were… Logan wanted to say new, but they weren’t; they were familiar, as if he had always known them but only now had a name for them.
“If you could go back,” Roman started after a few minutes, looking at their clasped hands instead of directly at Logan, “would you do everything the same?”
Logan thought over his answer for a moment before he spoke. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“What would you change?”
“I would tell you I had been injured.” Logan said, looking at their joined hands now as well. “But only after you had taken the healing potion. I understand my mistake in refusing to allow anyone to help me, but… I am still a- I am still your knight. I will always prioritize your health over mine.”
“That’s what I thought you would say.” Roman said. “You would die for me if you had to, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course. I’m your knight, my prince; of course.” Logan answered automatically. It was the duty of every knight to die for the crown family if necessary. If it came between him or the prince, he would always take the hit.
Though Logan knew his answer would be the same even if Roman wasn’t the prince.
Roman nodded, more to himself than to Logan. “I can’t let you be a knight anymore, then. Not after this.”
“Are you going to discharge me from service, my prince?”
“Something like that.” Roman answered. Logan’s eyes left their joined hands to look at Roman, who seemed to be more occupied with combing through Logan’s hair. Logan swallowed.
“Are you going to have me executed, my prince?” Logan asked, feeling foolish even as he spoke but having to say it anyways. He knew it was a ridiculous thought, especially after everything Roman had said, but Logan wasn’t sure what else Roman could mean- unless he was going to have Logan imprisoned, but that was as good as a death sentence for former knights-
“Oh, Logan, no, my beloved knight, not that; never that.” Roman rushed to reassure, the hand that had been in Logan’s hair moving to cup his cheek instead. Instinctively, Logan turned into the soft, warm touch, his eyes closing of their own will before he blinked rapidly, refusing to fall asleep just yet.
Roman noticed, however, letting out a small sigh. “You’ve been up too long. You need to get more sleep.” He said quietly. Roman leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Logan’s forehead before pulling away. “I should let you rest…”
Logan tightened his hold on Roman’s hand as he tried to leave, stopping him. Though Logan was sure Roman wouldn’t have any trouble breaking out of his weak grasp, the prince stopped, settling back down on the edge of the bed and looking at Logan with mild confusion.
“What are you going to do with me?” Logan asked, well aware by now that he was being irrational in his worries but unable to dismiss them himself.
“Oh, Logan.” Roman soothed, free hand returning to Logan’s cheek, smiling comfortingly at him. “I’m making you a high scholar, that’s all. I’m not going to hurt you- I’d never hurt you, no matter how incredibly foolish you’ve been.”
Logan frowned. “High scholar… Roman, you know as well as I do that that’s a position of blood. You can’t make me a high scholar.”
“You can when you know the king and queen.” Roman joked, running his thumb over Logan’s cheek, his smile growing as Logan leaned more into his touch. “They’ve agreed to bend the rules for you as long as you can prove your intelligence, which I’m certain you’ll have no issue doing- though I will help you study while you’re recovering.”
“How did you get them to allow this?” Logan pressed. High scholar was a prestigious position, one kept within the blood families of nobles to ensure no ‘peasants’ ever got to hold it and therefore end up able to advise the rulers. Getting a (former) knight into such a position couldn’t have been easy.
“I convinced them through a blend of begging, persuasion, fact-stating, and simply existing.”
“Simply existing?”
Roman awkwardly laughed, looking away from Logan for a moment. “Like I said, not a great four days. I think my parents want that to happen again just as much as I do.”
“Again, Roman, I can never properly apologize for putting you through that.” Logan said, looking down at the bed. “I was aware that my actions would have adverse actions for me and my health, but I never considered- I never thought that you-”
“That I might get hurt too?” Roman offered, and Logan fell silent. A moment later, the hand cradling his cheek shifted to rest on his chin, lifting his head and forcing him to meet Roman’s eyes. Roman was smiling fondly again, looking at Logan with a type of love that was old but never tired. “Don’t worry, my dear knight. You’re forgiven.”
“Roman, I-”
“You were stupid, and you did a stupid thing, and you’re sorry. Don’t worry, I’ve got the basics.” Roman cut him off. “But due to my infinite wisdom as your most powerful and wonderful prince, I’m not going to let you do it again, and that’s what’s important here. Besides, I am never going to let you live this down, which I feel is punishment enough.”
Logan let out a little laugh, letting more of his weight rest against Roman’s hand as a small smile graced his face. “I’m certain it will be.”
“Hey, there it is.” Roman said softly, scooting a bit closer to Logan. “I’ve missed your smile, my dear knight.”
“You won’t be able to call me that much longer, you know.” Logan pointed out. “Apparently I won’t be a knight much longer.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Roman conceded, tilting his head. “My dear high scholar?”
Logan shook his head a bit, though he remained smiling. “Doesn’t flow very well, my prince.”
“No, no it doesn’t.” Roman agreed, his smile turning into a smirk as he moved even closer to Logan, once more cradling his cheek. “How about ‘my dear’ instead?”
“My dear.” Logan repeated, as if he were trying out the sound of it. He pressed against Roman’s hand, allowing himself to melt just slightly into the touch. “That sounds… nice.”
“Good.” Roman said, leaning forwards to kiss Logan’s cheek, prompting Logan’s cheeks to burn in a way he knew was unrelated to his injuries- though if asked later, he would claim it was mostly a side effect of his exhaustion. “Because I think it sounds nice, too… my dear.”
The following increased burn in his cheeks and giddy smile were also just side effects of his exhaustion.
“I’nago, you are beautiful.”
Logan blushed even harder. “Roman!”
“I couldn’t say that before.” Roman continued on, ignoring Logan as he grinned. “It’d be seen as favoritism, and the court politics- well, they won’t disappear with you as a high scholar but they’ll be better, and I can say that to you now.”
“That doesn’t mean you should!” Logan protested, though there was no force behind his words. The blush was an annoying consequence of Roman’s words, but Logan couldn’t bring himself to dislike the words themself.
“Sorry, my dear.” Roman said, not sounding very apologetic. “You almost get yourself killed, I get to point out the fact that you’re gorgeous.”
“Oh, you-” Logan began, moving to push himself upwards with his free hand, not sure what he was going to do once he was sitting but sure it was going to be great. His plans, however, were foiled by the stab of pain that went through his chest at the movement, his arm failing to support him as he fell back against the bed.
“Hey now, careful there, Lo.” Roman said as Logan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the black dots that had moved to swarm his vision. “There’ll be plenty of time to get back at me for all my charm later.”
Logan gritted his teeth together, trying to both block out the pain and remain conscious as he said, “You’re impossible.”
“Shh, love, bicker later.” Roman told him, tone softening as he raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Logan’s. He placed Logan’s hand down afterwards, pulling the sheets up around him more, making it harder and harder for Logan to resist the call of sleep. “It’s time for you to rest, my dear.”
“Wait.” Logan said, fighting the urge to drift off as Roman tried to pull away, likely wanting to leave him in peace to rest. “You haven’t been sleeping.”
Roman paused in his retreat. “I- what?”
“I’m injured, not blind, my prince.” Logan said, opening his eyes enough that he could focus on Roman. “You said these past four days have been hectic and you have the bags underneath your eyes to prove it. Therefore: you haven’t been sleeping.”
“I have been… a bit.” Roman admitted slowly. “Worry isn’t very conducive to sleeping.”
“I’m okay now.” Logan reminded him, trying his best to smile reassuringly at the prince. “Please. Sleep.”
Roman returned Logan’s smile with a soft one of his own. “I will, okay? I just need to talk to Virgil about some things, and then I’ll find a guest room to crash in. I promise.”
Logan shook his head, biting his tongue to hold his awareness as he did so. “No. Sleep now. Here.”
Roman chuckled. “I think you’re more tired than you want to let on, my dear.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “You have a habit of forgetting to do tasks you deem unimportant, a list upon which both self-care and sleep often fall. The chance that you will not go to bed after leaving this room is too high for me to risk, especially given you have spent the past four days running on what I can only assume to be the absolute minimum of sleep, if that. Conclusion: if I do not ensure you are sleeping, you will not sleep.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Roman asked. “You’re bed-bound and going to pass out in a few minutes, whether you like it or not.”
Logan patted the bed beside him.
Roman raised an eyebrow. “What? You want me to sleep here? With you?”
“Your bed is more than big enough for two people, my prince, and if we’re together I’ll know if you get up and try to leave.” Logan explained, only managing to partially fight off a yawn as he spoke. “Please, Roman. I need to know you’re resting too. You’ve seen the stupid lengths I’ll go to- don’t make me add sleep-deprivation while I’m recuperating to the list.”
“I think Virgil’ll kill you if you try that.”
“Please recall why we’re in this situation in the first place.” Logan said. “Please Roman.”
Roman sighed, but the sound was fond as he came back to the edge of the bed and pulled up the sheets. “Worried about me even now?”
“You’re my prince.” Logan answered as Roman settled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Logan and nestling his head over Logan’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Roman was warm, his hold protective but soft, and Logan couldn’t help but melt into it, because it was natural, natural as breathing for Logan to trust him and protect him and love him. “I’m always going to worry about you.”
“You’re not going to be a knight anymore, you know.” Roman reminded him, his breath warm against Logan’s neck, the feel of his chest moving as he spoke comforting. “It’s not your job to worry about me anymore.”
“Who ever said I was doing it for the job?” Logan responded, smiling as Roman laughed and pressed a kiss against the side of his head. “Tomorrow I could be prisoner, peasant, or king and I would still worry about you, my prince.”
“And no matter what I myself am tomorrow, you would care for me nonetheless, my dear.” Roman added, pulling Logan even closer against his chest, careful to not press too hard against his injury. “But to get to tomorrow, you must sleep.”
“Sleep with me?” Logan asked, even as his eyelids slipped shut and he relaxed against Roman completely, already falling asleep with or without Roman.
Luckily, Roman just chuckled softly, pressing one last kiss to Logan’s cheek before he once more rested his head against Logan’s shoulder. “Of course I will, my dear. Now rest, and we will face tomorrow together.”
Content in Roman’s arms, Logan finally allowed himself to drift off, sure in the fact that his prince would be alright- and that he would be too.
Pairing: Sleepxiety w/ background Roloceit
Word Count: 6,292
Warnings: Vague mentions of pain (not too descriptive), lemme know if there's anything else.
A/N: So if anyone remembers the Sleepxiety coffee shop/tattoo shop au I was working on, this is it! I’m really happy with how this came out (I’m not used to writing fics over 2k long ^^) I hope you all enjoy :D
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Remy sighs softly as he steps into the café, shutting his eyes for a moment as the comforting scent of coffee washing over him. When he opens his eyes, he gives the place a once-over, liking the warm and cozy layout of the place. This café is shaping up to be one that he frequents regularly, but first, he must check the most important part. Sure, the atmosphere may be great, but if the coffee sucks? There's not much of a chance he'll be returning to this one.
He strolls up to the counter, barely glancing at the menu. There's no point when he already knows what he wants. "Hey, babes. Could I get a cappuccino with hazelnut and two extra shots of espresso?" The words are already out of his mouth before his eyes settle on the person in front of him. His eyes widen behind his sunglasses, a smirk spreading across his face.
Okay, so the barista is cute. That's a bonus. Remy eyes the way their black hair falls in front of their eyes, similar but not quite the 'emo fringe.' Their eyes look up from the notepad they'd been doodling on and Remy's heart stutters at how pretty their silver eyes are. He glances at their nametag, which is accompanied by a small purple pin reading they/them, and smirks. Virgil. It's a nice-sounding name, definitely suiting the emo aesthetic.
"Yeah, that'll be $4.50. For here or to go?" Virgil says, sighing internally that they managed to say that right without stuttering. Social anxiety's a struggle especially when the customer is unexpectedly cute. And 'babes?' That kind of nickname nearly made Virgil swoon on the spot, only stopped because doing so would be too embarrassing and way too much like something Roman would do.
"For here." Remy finds himself saying. He had been planning on taking his coffee and going home now that his shift is over but maybe he'll stick around for a little bit if he can. Not that there's any particular reason behind his decision. Of course not.
Virgil takes Remy's money and counts out the change before looking back up. "Okay. Take one of these." Virgil hands him a buzzer, "It'll go off when your order is ready."
Remy nods, used to this whole exchange, going to find a seat while Virgil busies themselves with making Remy's coffee. Remy pulls out his phone and makes a show of scrolling through it, though he keeps glancing up to look at the pretty barista.
It isn't long before the buzzer vibrates and Remy stands, sliding his phone back in his pocket as he approaches the counter. He sets the buzzer down, picking up the mug and strolling back to the booth he had chosen but not before saying, "Thank you, babes."
Virgil's face flushes slightly at the nickname and Remy smirks when he catches it, bringing the mug to his lips. He lets out a soft sigh at the flavor and leans back in his seat. The coffee's delicious and the barista is cute? Yup, Remy's definitely coming back here soon.
While drinking his coffee, he alternates between looking at his phone and glancing over at Virgil, watching them wipe down the counter just long enough to get caught. Virgil raises an eyebrow and leans on their elbow, "Y'know, if you're going to keep watching me, maybe you should actually come talk to me."
Remy's eyes widen and he snickers at that, "You have a point, darling." Remy rises from his seat and perches on one of the barstools lining the counter, taking another sip of his coffee. "Uh, you okay there?"
Virgil had frozen, internally panicking at how smooth that was and why did they call Remy over here? Now they actually have to talk to him and oh, shit, he just asked them a question. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Okay…" Remy says, dragging out the word for a moment before shrugging and electing to ignore it. "So, lemme guess, your favorite band is MCR?"
Virgil's eyes widen and they tilt their head just barely, "What? I mean, I like their music, but no?"
Remy chuckles at how confused they sound and smirks at them over the rim of his mug. "No offense, babes, but you look like the epitome of emo right now."
Virgil groans and Remy snickers, taking the last sip of the coffee and setting the mug down, pushing it slightly towards Virgil. Virgil takes the mug and goes over to the sink to wash it, Remy watching as they do.
"So, if your favorite band isn't MCR, then what is it?" Remy asks, leaning forward on both his elbows.
"Uh… Panic at the Disco…" Virgil admits and groans softly when Remy starts laughing. "Okay, fine! I'm still emo. Happy?"
"Sure am, darling," Remy says in between laughs. Virgil just rolls their eyes, but it's hard to be annoyed too much when someone's laughing that genuinely, even if it's at his expense.
The two of them talk for a little while longer before Remy realizes that he's the only customer in the café. "Babes? Am I keeping you from locking up?" Remy asks, feeling bad if he has. He didn't mean to stay so long.
"I mean, kinda?" Virgil shrugs, "But I don't really mind. You're not like the other customers who stay too late, you're actually fun to be around."
"Oh am I?" Remy says, perking up a bit.
Virgil groans at the smug tone to Remy's voice, knowing that they accidentally just inflated Remy's ego. "Don't let it go to your head. You know what I meant."
"Too late~ and yeah, I do," Remy says with a shrug. "Either way, doll, I should probably get going. Don't wanna keep you here too late." Remy stands, smiling a little softer, not quite his usual smirk, when he sees Virgil deflate slightly. "Don't worry, babes. I'll definitely be back. But before I go?"
"Yes?" Virgil cringes a bit at how quickly they responded but Remy just laughs.
"It was nice meeting you, Virgil," Remy says with a grin, blowing a kiss in Virgil's direction and wiggling his fingers a bit before ducking out of the café.
Virgil hides their face in their hands, blushing hard from such a simple gesture. Damn… That certainly wasn't what they expected when they came into work this morning. But if only they'd gotten his name. It never properly came up in the conversation and know they're kicking themselves for not asking. At least, he said he'd come back so they have that to look forward to.
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The next day, through his various appointments, Remy cannot get Virgil out of his head. It's been a good bit since he's laughed that genuinely. And thus, he finds himself once again at the café after work, hoping that Virgil will be there.
Virgil perks up when they see Remy come through the door, causing Remy to laugh softly. "Did ya miss me that much, hun?" Remy asks and Virgil blushes a bit, smirking at him.
"Wasn't expecting to see you back quite so soon," Virgil says. Remy shrugs and goes through the process of ordering his coffee, staying up at the counter this time.
"You'll be seeing a lot more of me from now on, I can promise that." Remy leans against the counter, watching Virgil prepare the cappuccino, a little distracted by how gracefully Virgil is moving.
"Oh, joy," Virgil says with heavy sarcasm, both of them snickering afterward. Virgil walks over to where Remy's sitting and slides him his coffee. "Oh, by the way, I don't think I got your name yesterday?"
Remy chuckles as he sips his coffee. "The name's Remy. It's a pleasure to meet you." Remy says with a hint of sarcasm, even going so far as to mock-bow, the effect lessened a bit since he's sitting down. Still, it causes Virgil to laugh and so that's a win in his book.
"Charmed, I'm sure," Virgil says, causing Remy to snicker. It's not often that he finds someone who's willing to and able to put up with his sass, especially not one who's able to sass him back like this.
"Of course, I'm the most charming one around," Remy says mock-seriously, grinning as soon as Virgil snorts.
"Sure, you are," Virgil says sarcastically, but there's a hint of truth to their words. Well, Remy may not be charming in the traditional sense, but there's something to him that's managed to charm Virgil. Otherwise, they wouldn't be so comfortable talking to him right now.
They talk once again, getting interrupted by the occasional customer, until it's about time for Virgil to close up. "I'll be seeing you, darling," Remy says, going out a limb to take Virgil's hand and squeeze it softly.
"I'll be holding you to that." Virgil says with a soft laugh, "You make the last bit before closing a lot more bearable."
Remy snickers softly and lets go of Virgil's hand, taking a step back. "Thank you, hun. I'll see you soon."
"Bye, Remy." Virgil waves as Remy leaves, unable keep a soft smile off their face while they close up the café.
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Remy starts coming back to the café often, most of the times after his shift as it's a reliable way to tell when Virgil will be there. Sure, there are some days where an appointment of his will go longer than expected and he misses those nights, but he's at the café more nights than he's not.
One day, he leaves the tattoo parlor and heads to the café, growing more excited to see Virgil with each step. He all but throws the door open, knowing that the dramatic gesture would be something Virgil would laugh at, but freezes when he sees the barista.
Instead of Virgil in their usual purple and black attire, there's someone else in yellow and black. Someone who happens to be giving him a sly smirk, their hands steepled in front of them.
"Looking for Virgil?" The barista asks, chuckling when Remy's eyes widen at the question. "Surprised? Well, he's not here. It's his day off, you'll have to deal with me."
Remy strolls up to the counter, already too intrigued by this encounter to consider leaving. "Sure. I'll have a…"
"Hazelnut cappuccino with two shots of espresso?" The barista asks, raising a single eyebrow.
"How did you?" Remy asks, nearly wanting to take a step back from the guy, already unsettled by him but now he knows his order? He glances at the barista's nametag like it would answer his question, the sight of a cartoonish snake doodled by the name confusing him even more. How can someone this cryptic have something so cute on their nametag?
Declan snickers at Remy's expression and waves his hand, "I'll drop the whole 'villain' facade. Virge says I do it too much." Declan shrugs, ringing up Remy's order while he explains, "Virgil told me your order and that you might be in today."
"Uh-huh," Remy says slowly, reeling from Declan dropping the persona like it was all an act. Maybe it was. Remy's no stranger to friends who put on acts like that. After all, Roman does it all the time. "And you know Virgil how?"
"I'm their brother," Declan says simply, starting to make Remy's coffee to go, figuring he's not going to stick around since Virgil's not here. "Honestly, I couldn't wait to meet the customer they talk so highly of." It's clear Declan's teasing him, but Remy can't help but feel touched that Virgil talked about him.
Declan glances at Remy and sees the softer expression, his own softening a bit to match. "It's been nice seeing them so happy, so I guess I have you to thank for that."
Remy shrugs at that, "It's no trouble, really. I enjoy spending time with them." Remy blinks when Declan hands him his coffee, curling his fingers around it absentmindedly.
"Good." Declan says, looking at Remy for a moment in a way that reminds him of a snake eyeing its prey, "Now, I shouldn't have to say this, but if you hurt him? I'll end you." Declan's voice goes quiet and serious, sounding brutally honest.
Remy gives a nervous smile and holds his hands up in a placating gesture. "Don’t worry, if that happened, Virgil would probably end me first." Remy says with a small laugh, "But I won't let that happen. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt them."
Declan watches him for a moment more before his expression softens, clearly finding what he wanted. "Good. And you're right. You'd have both of us to worry about, but I can tell you'll do your best to avoid that." Declan gives a small, approving smile. "Well, I'll see you around, Remy."
"Yeah, see you." Remy says, giving a two-fingered salute and ducking out of the café, slightly rattled by that whole experience.
Declan simply smirks, assured that his sibling will be safe in Remy's hands if it ever gets to that. He's good at reading people and it's clear that Remy will do everything to prevent Virgil from getting hurt. That's always a good sign.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next time Remy goes to the café, he can't help but feel slightly on edge, knowing now that there's a chance that Declan will be there instead of Virgil. Sure, he doubts that Declan would pull the whole foreboding and creepy act a second time, but he can't help the uneasy feeling.
Virgil looks up with bright eyes when Remy opens the door, only for their expression to turn annoyed and a bit downcast when they see how nervous Remy looks, though he's trying his best to hide it.
"Dee did the thing, didn't he? The whole Disney villain act?" Virgil says, tapping their fingers together mimicking the way Declan held his when Remy met him. Remy nods and Virgil huffs, turning to make Remy's coffee to give them something to do with their hands. "Ugh, I told him not to. He likes doing it anytime I make a new friend, says it's a test of sorts to weed out anyone undeserving. His words not mine."
"I can see how." Remy says with a wry smile. "It would be effective for anyone who's easily intimidated."
Virgil snorts, shaking their head lightly, "You don't have to tell me that. Patton wouldn't come by our house for weeks after he first spoke with Dee." Virgil says, sounding both fond and exasperated. "But you're still here, so it clearly didn't work on you."
"Of course, it didn't." Remy says, smiling when Virgil passes him his coffee, wrapping his fingers around it. "I've definitely had weirder encounters."
"Oh, yeah?" Virgil asks, looking curious enough to prompt Remy into storytelling mode. There's no shortage of stories for him to tell, not with his friend group.
After enough of these stories, Virgil laughs softly, "Yeah, I can see now that Dee is hardly the weirdest person you've dealt with."
Remy blinks, awed by the sound of Virgil's laugh. No matter how many times he hears it, it sounds like the prettiest sound in the world to him. "Exactly, babes." Remy smirks when Virgil's face goes red at the nickname, "So you don't have to worry about me, it takes way more than an overprotective brother to scare me off."
Virgil just smiles then, a soft genuine one that takes Remy's breath away. "That's good." Virgil glances around and gives a sheepish smile at the realization they've been listening to Remy's stories all the way until closing time. "I guess it's time for me to lock up."
"All right, sugar. I'll see you later, then." Remy says, once again blowing a kiss in Virgil's direction, laughing in delight when Virgil mimes catching it and holding it close. Remy ducks out of the café with a small wave, unable to keep from smiling on his way home. It really is unfair how cute Virgil is sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remy continues his pattern of regularly going to the café to talk with Virgil until closing time. As the days go by, it's hard to deny how much of a crush he has on Virgil. Even the smallest smile directed at him will make his heart skip a beat and when Virgil laughs? Remy's gone, unable to focus on anything but that sound.
Because of this, he has managed to become even more flirtatious than how he usually acts, greeting Virgil most of the time with some kind of pun or pick-up line and leaving the café with blown kisses, winks, and cheeky grins. For the most part, Virgil responds in kind or just smirks fondly at him.
Honestly? It has Remy absolutely elated.
"Hey, babes. How's my favorite barista doing?" Remy asks as he enters the café one night, grinning when Virgil snorts softly, looking pleased to see him.
"I swear you only like me for the coffee." Virgil says teasingly and Remy plays off of that, gasping over-dramatically and throwing the back of his hand up to his forehead in a way Roman's done several times.
"Oh, my poor heart! How could you say such a thing?" Remy leans against the counter and sighs dramatically. He squeaks when something flicks his shoulder, but the sound of Virgil's laughter halts any complaints he might have.
"Oh, shush. I know you're not just here for the coffee." Virgil says with a grin once they stop laughing. "You're here for my dazzling personality." The words are said with an air of confidence similar to how Roman would say such a line, but also with sarcasm in a way that's uniquely Virgil.
"Obviously, babes," Remy says, leaning forward on his elbows and resting his chin on his hands. "Now, about that coffee?"
Virgil laughs at that, shaking their head with fond exasperation. They turn to make Remy's usual order while Remy fishes the money out of his wallet.
The night continues as it usually would, with them talking and enjoying each other's company during the breaks in between customers. At closing time, Remy gets a burst of confidence to take Virgil's hand again, this time bringing it up to his lips and brushing a soft kiss against their knuckles.
Virgil's eyes widen and their face goes red, but an amused smile spreads across their face. Remy winks at them, chuckling at the darkening of their blush.
"Until next time, babes." Remy says, squeezing their hand once before letting go of it, relishing in the way Virgil's breath hitches at the pet name.
"Remy!" Virgil calls out right as Remy gets to the door, causing him to pause and turn to look at them. Virgil gives a shy grin before blowing a kiss at Remy, who mimes catching it on pure instinct. "See ya later, Rem." Remy nods with a grin before leaving the café, already unable to wait until the next time he sees them again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over the course of them getting to know each other, Virgil's slowly realizing that they want to get a tattoo of some kind, even sketching up some rough designs for one should they decide to go for it.
"Virgil, are you alright?" Logan asks, looking at Virgil with concern. "You've been a bit distracted." Roman nods, a similar concerned expression on his face.
"Yeah, I've just been thinking about something." Virgil says, giving an apologetic look that they've been spacey today. "I think I want to get a tattoo." They admit, causing Roman to brighten and Logan to look at them with mild surprise.
"And you're sure about this, Virgil?" Logan asks, looking at them in that way he does when he's trying to analyze someone.
"Yup." Virgil says, popping the p. "I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now and I have a vague idea of what I'd want and where, so I'm pretty sure."
Logan seems to find what he's looking for since he nods and lets Roman take over the conversation. "If you're looking for recommendations on tattoo artists, I could hook you up," Roman says with a grin. He's got several beautifully-made tattoos himself so Virgil has no reason not to trust his judgment in this instance.
"Sure, that'd be great." Virgil says and Roman grins at them.
"Okay, so, most of my tattoos were done by the same person and I think you'd really get on well with him! See this one?" Roman raises the sleeve of his shirt up to show a rendition of the rose from Beauty and the Beast. "He did this one and look how great it turned out!"
Virgil leans forward a bit to look at it, a bit awed by how smooth the lines are and how well it's been inked. "Yeah, it does look great, Ro. So, should I get my tattoo done by him? You seem to trust him a lot."
"I think you should, but it's up to you. It's your tattoo after all. However, I can give you the number of his tattoo parlor so you can call and make an appointment." Roman pulls out his phone and looks quizzically at Virgil, who just nods. Roman grins and starts typing something before Virgil's phone buzzes in their pocket.
"There. Trust me. He's a really good artist and don't worry about being nervous. I definitely was for my first tattoo but he's also really great at easing any fears you might have." Roman says and Virgil gives a small smile at that.
"Alright. Thank you, Ro." Virgil leans back in their seat, feeling relieved that they at least have a tattoo artist to look into now, without having to do hours of research into it like they'd been planning. Sure, they're still going to be cautious about the whole thing but since Roman's had several tattoos from the guy that turned out well, it seems like it might not be a bad idea to go to this one.
"Anytime, my dear compatriot! Now, let me tell you about the surprise I've got planned for Dee…" Roman starts talking and Virgil's content to sit back and listen to Roman's idea, Logan already knowing about the date as he's in on it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil does end up calling and making an appointment with the guy Roman recommended, just a basic consultation to see if it really is a good idea getting their tattoo done there. So, on their next day off from the café, they find themselves outside a tattoo parlor that's actually rather close to the café now that they think about it. Virgil just shrugs and goes inside the building, feeling a bit antsy about the idea of getting a tattoo now that they're actually here.
The receptionist smiles at them brightly. "Please, have a seat. He's almost done with his current appointment."
Virgil nods and pulls out their phone, scrolling idly through Tumblr until they hear an excited gasp, causing them to look up in confusion. Their eyes widen at the sight of the person in front of them, their mind going back to realize that they never did find out what Remy did for a job.
"Virgil, babes! What are you doing in my neck of the woods?" Remy asks with a bright smile, figuring that Roman had something to do with it. Roman did tell him that he'd recommended him to a new customer, after all.
Virgil chuckles a bit sheepishly, "I decided I wanted to get a tattoo. I didn't know you worked here…" Virgil says and Remy smiles softly at them, understanding that they're feeling a bit nervous about this.
"Well, come on in, sugar, and we can discuss what kind of tattoo you want." Remy says, his voice going a bit more professional. "Clearly, I'm the best around or you wouldn't have come to me." Remy winks, hoping to make Virgil relax a bit.
It seems to work as Virgil snorts and rises from their seat, following Remy to a room set aside especially for consultations. The walls are covered in examples of tattoos that Remy's done, ranging from simple outlines to large sleeves full of color and detail.
Remy sits down and gestures for Virgil to do the same, giving them a soft smile. "So, darling, do you have an idea of what kind of tattoo you'd like?" Remy asks, curious since Virgil's never mentioned having nor wanting to have a tattoo to him before.
Virgil nods and pulls out a notebook. "Yeah, I've actually sketched a few ideas out." Virgil gives a sheepish look, causing Remy to shake his head barely.
"Don't be nervous, hun. You're not the first one who's brought in sketches before. Now let me see them. Is there one in particular you feel like you're wanting?" Remy says in a soft, calm tone, smiling reassuringly at them.
Virgil's shoulders relax and they open the notebook, flicking through a few pages before stopping and holding out the notebook for Remy to take. Remy looks down at the page, a smirk spreading across his face at the purple thundercloud design. Actually, now that he looks closer, the main part of the purple is actually a galaxy pattern, but it still doesn't look like it's out of his range.
"Ooh, this is real pretty, doll." Remy says, looking back up at Virgil. "So, is this the one you want?" Virgil nods, looking faintly nervous still. "Don't worry, darling. This is hardly a challenge for me. Listen to me for a moment." Remy starts to explain what Virgil needs to know about the actual appointment, figuring that Virgil's too keyed up for it be today. He goes over how long the session would be, how much it would cost, etc. All the important things.
"So, you still sure about this, doll?" Remy asks, giving Virgil the opportunity to back out if they're too anxious about it. He would not want his Virgil to regret anything like this if he could be the one to prevent it from happening.
"I am. I want the tattoo." Virgil says, their voice a lot more certain now that Remy's explained everything.
Remy smiles and shuts the notebook. "Alright, babes. Mind if I hold onto this so I can get a stencil ready for you?" Virgil shakes their head and Remy sets the notebook on his desk, standing up and helping Virgil to their feet, squeezing their hand softly.
"Make an appointment with the receptionist before you go, alright, darling?" Remy brings Virgil's hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across their knuckles. "And I'll likely be seeing you tomorrow night, you do work then, right?"
Virgil nods, a smile on their face at the gesture. "Yeah. I'll see you then, Rem." Virgil says, getting a strangely confident look on their face before they lean up and peck Remy's cheek softly. "Bye, Remy." Virgil leaves the room and Remy laughs softly once they're gone, his heart fluttering in his chest.
Virgil makes an appointment with the receptionist for the following week before going out and sitting in their car, pulling their phone out of their pocket. 'I'm coming over.' They text Declan, quickly receiving an okay that has them pulling out of the parking lot and heading over to their brother's house.
Once they arrive, they head up and go inside, strolling into the living room where Declan is curled up on the couch with Roman on one side and Logan on the other, an arm around them both. Which is exactly what Virgil had expected when they'd sent their brother the text.
Virgil playfully narrows their eyes at Roman, who just grins at them, feeling like he knows why they're there. "Hey there, emo nightmare. How was the appointment?" Roman says, entirely too cheekily for Virgil's liking.
"You knew, didn't you? That the Remy from the café was the same tattoo artist you were recommending to me?" Virgil says, crossing their arms and mock-glaring at Roman, no heat in the expression at all. After all, it's not like they mind spending more time with Remy. They just want to tease Roman a bit.
"Sure did, storm cloud!" Roman says with a grin, "Or at least, I was pretty sure I did." Roman looks like he would shrug if he weren't pressed so close up against Declan. "Why? Afraid that your crush is the one that'd be giving you a tattoo?"
Virgil scowls slightly at the teasing tone, "Of course not. But what have we said about you playing matchmaker?"
Roman just chuckles. "You'll be thanking me later."
Virgil huffs at how sure Roman is at that, but… He's not exactly wrong is he? Though they didn't really need his help to get closer to Remy, it would've happened eventually.
"Wait, what is this about a tattoo?" Declan asks, looking a bit confused but mostly curious. He knows that Virgil's wanted a tattoo for a long while but they've always been too anxious to actually go through with it.
"I decided I wanted to get one." Virgil says with a shrug. They pull out their phone and open up a picture they'd taken of the sketch they gave Remy. "This is the one I'm getting."
Declan looks at it and Roman leans closer to get a peek at the screen. "It looks good. And you're sure that Remy's a proficient tattoo artist?" Declan says, sounding a bit worried.
Virgil just smiles and is about to answer when Roman speaks up, "Most of my tattoos were done by him, Dee." Declan thinks that over for a second before nodding slowly.
"So, yes. He can be trusted to do a good job." Virgil adds.
"Okay. But V?" Declan asks, looking curious at them, a teasing glint in his eye. Virgil just tilts their head and Declan smirks. "When are you actually going to ask the guy out?"
Virgil groans, flopping onto the couch beside Roman. "I dunno. Soon, I guess?" Virgil shrugs and Roman gasps excitedly.
"Ooh, I know! You should ask him out after he does your tattoo!" Roman suggests, looking far-too-excited to help Virgil with their love life.
"Maybe." Virgil shrugs, thinking it over. That doesn't actually sound like a bad idea if they can go through with it. Roman looks appeased at the maybe, snuggling further into Declan's side. The conversation shifts to something else, leaving Virgil mulling over their decision.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil swears that time slowed down on purpose between the consultation and the actual appointment just to mess with them. But once the week is over, it feels like it flew by in a flash.
Shortly after lunch, they're once again at the tattoo parlor, ready for the long hours ahead. They pull out their phone while they wait for Remy to finish up the appointment before them, which has the benefit of distracting them from their nerves a bit.
All too soon, they're following Remy into the main room of the tattoo parlor, feeling both nervous and excited, which Remy seems to sense as he gives them a soft smile.
"If you decide it's too much, we can just do the outline today and do the coloring another night, alright, babes?" Remy asks, setting a hand on Virgil's shoulder.
The warmth of his hand comforts Virgil and they nod. "Yeah. I'll let you know if that happens, but for now, I want to get it over with."
Remy laughs and heads over to their tools. "A good mindset to have! Mind taking your jacket off and having a seat for me?" Remy says as he double-checks that everything's ready to go.
Virgil nods and shrugs out of his jacket, sitting down in the chair and watching Remy for a moment. Remy pulls on a fresh pair of gloves and turns around, freezing for a moment at the sight of Virgil in a black tank top. Damn… Virgil's more muscled than their hoodie gives them credit for…
Remy shakes his head, snapping into a more professional attitude. There's time to be gay for Virgil later when he doesn't have to worry about doing his actual job. Virgil smirks slightly at the look and watches as Remy sterilizes the area and puts an initial outline on their upper arm. Remy double-checks that it looks the way Virgil wants it to before beginning to ink the tattoo.
It hurts. Virgil had expected that, of course, but it's a bit different from being mentally prepared for it and actually feeling it. Remy winces sympathetically as Virgil hisses at the pain. "So, what's the inspiration behind this design?" Remy asks.
"So, when Ro and I were kids, he would rope me into playing princes with him and we came up with these designs as the emblems of our two kingdoms and the main inspiration of one of his nicknames for me. We'd go on all sorts of adventures together." Virgil says with a fond smile, "One time…" They start telling a story of one of these adventures, getting so lost in telling the story that they're not thinking about the pain anymore, letting it become something they can easily ignore.
Remy smiles once he realizes this and at how cute the story is. It's exactly how he would have pictured Roman acting as a kid.
The outline takes about an hour to complete, but with Virgil's storytelling, it feels like it flew by. "Okay. Outline's finished." Remy says once Virgil wraps up a story, snickering at the surprised expression on their face. "Want to take a small break before we start the coloring?"
Virgil nods and Remy sits back, grinning at them. "So I'm assuming Roman told you to come here?"
"He did. He was super excited that I'm getting a tattoo and suggested I come here almost immediately."
Remy chuckles softly. "Yeah, he told me he'd recommended me to someone. Didn't think for a second it'd be you, but it clicked when I saw you and from how smug he'd been on the phone."
Virgil rolls their eyes, a faint smile on their face. They talk for a little while longer before Remy sits up and tilts his head at Virgil. "So, you ready to get the color started?" Virgil nods and Remy stands up, going to get the coloring set up before getting into position. "Once again, if you need a break, don’t hesitate to ask."
"Okay," Virgil says and Remy starts working, causing Virgil to wince at the pain, but it's not as bad as before. They'd read that for some the coloring is the worst part, but they're glad that it's not for them at least this time.
Remy starts asking Virgil questions, some having short answers, like what their favorite hot drink is, and some requiring a full story to answer properly. It has Virgil so distracted that when Remy pulls back, saying that they're done, Virgil can't quite believe it. How did all that time pass by like it was nothing?
Remy chuckles at their expression and goes to put the tool away, coming back over and cleaning the tattoo gently. "You want to see it before I wrap it up, babes?" Remy asks and Virgil nods quickly. Remy smiles at their enthusiasm and takes their hand, helping them to their feet and over to a mirror on the wall.
The tattoo looks perfect. There's a pretty galaxy effect ranging from pink to purple to indigo in the center bit of the thundercloud but the rest is a softer purple. It's exactly what Virgil wanted. "Woah… This is beautiful, Remy." Virgil says, their voice awed and soft.
Remy smiles, feeling a swirl of warmth at seeing Virgil so pleased with his work. "Thank you, babes. Now, let me wrap it up and tell you a few things."
Virgil lets Remy lead them away from the mirror and back to the chair. Remy makes sure that the tattoo's cleaned before putting a bandage over it and wrapping it up, explaining what Virgil will need to do to take care of the tattoo until it's fully healed.
"And then you'll be good to go, darling," Remy says and Virgil smiles shyly at him, Roman's suggestion coming back to them.
"Thank you, Remy," Virgil says earnestly. "I was hoping to ask you something once the tattoo was done…" They trail off, a bit anxious, looking away from Remy.
"Which is, sweetness?" Remy asks, setting his hand on theirs, giving them the time they need to regain whatever confidence this question needs.
"Would you go on a date with me?" Virgil blurts out. It's like a bandaid, you gotta rip it off.
Remy chuckles softly and brushes his fingers against Virgil's cheek. "You beat me to it, babes. I was going to ask you if you'd like to come to dinner with me tonight." Remy says, his voice soft and affectionate. Enough so that it makes Virgil melt where they're standing.
Virgil smiles softly at Remy, causing his breath to catch at how pretty that expression is. "Darling, tell me if this is too soon, but I kinda want to kiss you…"
"Please…" Virgil whispers and Remy exhales softly, brushing a bit of Virgil's bangs out of their eyes before leaning forward and kissing them softly.
The kiss is short but sweet and full of promise. As he pulls back, Remy slides a hand down Virgil's arm and takes their hand, entangling their fingers together.
"Come on, Virgil. Let's go get that dinner." Remy says. "You told me so many stories today, I think it's only fair that I tell you some of my own."
"I'd love that," Virgil says and they leave the tattoo parlor, hand-in-hand.
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Tagging @sleepless-in-starbucks since it’s Remy-centric ^^
Sanders Sides Taglist (lemme know if you want to be added/removed!): @anuninspiredpoet, @echomist13, @theresneverenoughfandoms @fiive-second-cookies @sevencrashing, @virgil-is-verge @fandermom @evilmuffin @fairytailtwists
Virgil: Ok so if I come out as binary trans, they’ll default to they/them pronouns so they can pretend to *compromise* to my face- BUT, little do they know that they’re Actually using my actual pronouns.
Deceit: ...this sounds like the beginning of a terribly convoluted lie that will only hurt in the end.
Hello starshine, could I please just have some fluff with Virgil? Any fluff will do
“your hair is so pretty,” patton coos, carefully pulling a brush through virgil’s long waist-length curls. “thank you for letting me braid it for you!”
“listen, it’s probably easier for you to work with it than me,” they say, yawning and relaxing into the soft touches against their scalp. “and you’re much better at doing hair. and i just - i just like you touching my hair. it’s relaxing.”
patton kisses the crown of their head, and virgil couldn’t stop the smile on their face if they tried.
“What shall we do with a drunken sailor, what shall we do with a drunken sailor, what shall we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning?” Roman sang, dancing around the deck as mopped.
“Why.” Logan groaned over the maps it’d been scrutinizing.
“Because! I’m bored, and this whole trip has been boring! We need something, and since we aren’t to see land for at least another month, I’ll just have to make some fun!”
“Eh, let ‘im sing. Better than just watching the waves crash.” Virgil yelled down from their perch on the bowsprit.
“Ugh, but he’s been singing that same song every time he’s sang this week! Pick a different song, man!” Andy shouted right back, turning to face Roman for that last part with a growl.
“Fine, fine, if it’s a different song you want, it’s a different song you’ll get!” Roman bounced the mop handle between his hands a few times in contemplation, trying to choose something they hadn’t heard from him yet.
Roman began to mutter to himself, still swinging slightly as he thought. “I could sing- no, they heard that from me just last week! Oh, what about- no, I sang that one for a whole night at port. Maybe- oh! I know what I can sing!”
Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “Finally got one, Princey?”
“Shush, kelp-for-hair!” Roman scowled at him. Virgil just laughed.
“Sorry, sorry,” they paused. “Your Highness.”
“Why you little-!”
“Hey, hey!” Thomas interrupted. “How about you sing us that song you chose, ok Roman?”
“Alright, alright, but dark-and-dreary keeps their lips closed if they don't want to wake up buried in sea salt!” Roman acquiesced.
Virgil raised their hands in surrender, they did actually want to hear their crewmate sing, after all. They just wouldn’t admit it.
“Now we are ready to sail for the Horn
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Our boots and our clothes, boys, are all in the pawn
To be rollicking randy dandy-O!”
Logan rolled its eyes at the song Roman had chosen, and Thomas and Janus joined in on the chorus as the crew went about their daily maintenance of the ship.
“Heave a pawl, O heave away!
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking randy dandy-O!”
Climbing down from their perch, Virgil went down below deck to go help their siblings Andy and Anton fix the crew’s lunch.
“Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Where the pretty young girls all come down in their frocks
To be rollicking randy dandy-O!”
Thomas pulled Janus into a swinging dance, the two of them spinning around the deck with aem leading aer laughing twin.
“Heave a pawl, O heave away!
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking randy dandy-O!”
The wind started to pick up a little, joining in with Roman’s fun by curling itself playfully around his clothes and through his hair.
“Come breast the bars, bullies, heave her away
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Soon we'll be rolling her down through the Bay
To be rollicking randy dandy-O!”
The boredom that had gripped the crew seemed to have been completely dissolved, turning to mist like the foam that curled protectively against the ship’s sides.
“Heave a pawl, O heave away!
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored
To be rollicking randy dandy-O!”
Remus smiled down at her crew from the wheel he was leaning against.
