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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

if love was a snake, it’d have bit you

Ao3

Summary: Remy, Patton, and Drew are dating. This is a fact. Remy, Patton, and Drew refuse to admit they are dating. This is also a fact. Guess it's up to Roman, Virgil, and Emile to force them to acknowledge the truth. Content: Some swearing, kissing (mostly face kisses, but some lip kisses too), nb!Patton + nb!Emile, genderfluid!Remy, oblivious gays, seriously guys, so much obliviousness, the obliviousness might kill you, gods know it killed me, Disneyland cast member AU Pairing: Romantic Mosleepceit Additional notes: So many additional notes -Big thanks to @emo-disaster for beta-ing for me and confirming the gays in this fic are wayyyyyy too oblivious -This fic is almost 11k words. it was meant to be around 3k. I’m so sorry. -Inspired by, but not actually based upon, this disneyland cast member au -This is probably hella inaccurate to real Disneyland but i don’t care alright -This fic is a (late) b-day gift for the one-and-only @notveryglittery !!! She’s an incredible person who I’m extremely happy to know, and I’m really hoping she even kinda likes this mess of a fic dsfbcdsjf

“-and if you’ll just sign here, I can finalize that upgrade for you.”

The woman smiled at Remy as she accepted the pen he offered her. She looked tired, her entire appearance screaming ‘overworked mom’ even without the literally screaming (playfully, but still screaming) kids behind her. She definitely needed the vacation.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” she said gratefully, quickly signing the paper Remy offered her.

“It’s no problem, ma’am,” Remy said, smiling politely as he took the paper and pen back, hitting a few keys on his computer as he did. “Just happy to make your stay as magical as possible. Here’s your keycard.”

The stressed mother accepted the keycard from Remy with another smile. “Thank you.” She reiterated the sentiment before convincing her children to give her their hands and heading off for the elevators, her wife following with the luggage. Remy smiled after them, briefly letting the last of the room change form sit unfinished on his screen.

“You’re going to get yourself fired for that eventually, you know.”

Remy’s smile only grew at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. He turned back to his work then, enough of Roman in his peripheral for Remy to tell he was strutting his stuff as a friend of Flynn’s. “Ah, you know they love me too much for that.”

“More like they don’t look hard enough to catch all your illegal ‘on-the-mouse room upgrades.’” Roman corrected, leaning against the back of the receptionist desk. “Though if they ever do? You’re screwed.”

“Shush, I’mma be gay and doing crime til Disney falls.” Remy responded cheekily. “And speaking of people who are going to get themselves fired, shouldn’t you be over in the good ol’ Disneyland already?”

Roman shrugged. “Shift doesn’t start for another half an hour. I’ve got time.”

“Time for what, exactly?”

Roman grinned at that. “Gossip, of course!”

Remy grinned now, too. “Well, if you’re looking for tales, a little birdy’s been keeping me updated on a blossoming relationship between one of the friends of Rapunzel and one of the friends of Snow White-”

“Oh, not that kind of gossip.” Roman interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m talking the good gossip- preferably about you and your boos.”

Remy scoffed, shaking his head as he hit the enter key and finished out the form. “Hard to gossip about those which I do not have, hun.”

Roman groaned, slumping against the desk and throwing his head back. “Oh, please, Remy, don’t tell me you’re still in denial.”

“Denial about what?” Remy asked, finally turning his full attention to Roman. “The fact that I’m single?”

“The fact that you have not one but TWO partners!” Roman answered, dramatically holding up two fingers. “Not only are you being a proper partner HOG you are refusing to admit as such.”

“Well if you’re just looking for someone to be the soul to your mate, handsome, I think I can hook you up.” Remy said teasingly, briefly lowering his sunglasses to wink at Roman.

Roman met the wink with a deadpan stare. “You’re a taken man.”

“Only if you make it so.”

“You can’t keep pretending your partners don’t exist.”

“I can if I don’t have any partners.” Remy told him, finally pushing his shades back over his eyes and giving up at his mock attempts to seduce Roman. “Now, of course, I have two very close friends with whom I do many things with, but given I’m not dating either of them, calling them my ‘partners’ seems a little much, don’t you?”

“I get it, I get it, I have good friends too.” Roman said, as if he were going along with what Remy was saying until he quickly added, “Except I’m not obviously DATING them!”

“You’re hopeless, princey, truly hopeless.” Remy said in response, smirking as he patted Roman’s cheek. “Ya gotta stop finding romance where it simply ain’t.”

“The only thing I am finding is the truth behind all the bullsh-”

“Remy!”

Both Roman and Remy turned from each other, gazes moving to the entrance, where the voice had originated from. The owner of the voice was hurrying over to them, their blond curls pulled back into a loose ponytail, keeping their hair out of their face and allowing them to smile brightly at both Roman and Remy. They stopped in front of the receptionist's desk, taking a moment to catch their breath and straighten their relatively small red tie.

“Heya sunshine.” Remy greeted easily, smiling at Patton in a way that was a little too soft to be a proper smirk “May I ask what brings you here in the middle of your shift? You’re gonna get yourself fired.”

“‘Worth it for a chance to see you.” Patton told him sweetly, giggling just a bit and ignoring Roman’s expression of self-confirmation. “Buuuuuuuut I'm on lunch break. Just came over to ask what you wanted for dinner. I know the plan for tonight was take-out, but I just realized that we have all the ingredients to make lasagna- aside from the noodles, which we can pick up on our way home- so I thought it might be fun to make that tonight instead!”

“Sounds wonderful to me.” Remy answered. “We’re going to keep it a secret from Dee though, right?”

“Of course!” Patton agreed. He leaned over to stage whisper to Roman, “It’s his favorite.”

“Oh, you guys know each other’s favorite dinners, do you?” Roman asked, smiling in a knowing way and wiggling his eyebrows at Patton. Patton tilted their head to the side, clearly confused, while Remy answered casually,

“Of course! You can only live with someone for so long without picking up on what they like to eat. Dee’s favorite is lasagna. Patton’s favorite dinner- which is coincidentally their favorite breakfast, lunch, and dessert as well- is waffles. And mine, of course, is a nice big cup of espresso-”

“Don’t lie!” Patton cut him off, smiling as they leaned on the counter and ended up within an inch of Remy. “Your favorite dinner is chicken soup!”

“Remy hates soup.” Roman said, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Not chicken soup.” Patton confirmed, not looking away from Remy. “That’s his favorite, no matter what he says.”

“Mmm, nice try, Pat, but that’s not it.” Remy denied. Patton pouted at him then, and almost immediately Remy relented with, “My favorite dinner is your chicken soup. You’re the only one who knows how to make it right, hun.”

Patton giggled. “I make it just like anyone else would!” they insisted, though their smile brightened even as they spoke.

Remy’s smile grew as well as he leaned forwards just a bit, pressing his forehead against Patton’s. “Nah, honeypie, you got somethin’ all the other recipes don’t.”

“And what’s that?” Patton asked.

“Loooooooove.” Remy answered, grinning broadly, seemingly happy to ignore how cheesy his answer was.

Patton didn’t mind the cheesiness. “You’re too much,” they said, too playfully to be chastising.

“Better than being too little.”

Patton just grinned at that. “I have to go.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” Remy said, expression seemingly not changing, though a close observer (aka Roman) might have noticed his smile dip just the slightest. “See you at six?”

“Mhmm!” Patton confirmed with a hum. They pulled away from Remy, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before they ran off, waving one last goodbye as they reached the doors before disappearing outside. Remy lazily waved his fingers after Patton, watching the doors a moment after Patton was through them before turning back to his computer and his work.

“Ready to admit you’re definitely dating at least one of your partners?”

“Nope,” Remy replied without missing a beat. “Though if you really want me to have a partner, you’re single… I’m single…” Remy waggled his eyebrows at Roman.

Roman ignored his advances. “The chemistry between you and Patton is so strong I’m surprised nothing’s exploded yet.”

“That was weak.”

“Shush.” Roman waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, for the love of Apollo, they kissed you goodbye!”

Remy half-shrugged. “They do that with all their friends.”

“They didn’t give me a kiss.”

“They were in a rush.” Remy explained away. “But if you really want a kiss-”

“-I will get it from my darling friend of Rapunzel,” Roman finished for him, having leaned over to check the time on the bottom of Remy’s screen. “I got so distracted trying to get you to tell me the truth I lost track of time.”

“What truth?” Remy asked, tone light. “The one about us making a perfect couple?”

Roman smiled sweetly at him, as though Remy was naive. “Maybe in a universe where you didn’t literally live with your soulmates,” he said, patting Remy’s shoulder before he turned and headed towards the door. He raised his hand over his shoulder without turning back, half-waving at Remy as he added, “Call me when you’re done being in denial!”

Remy just let out a light huff of amusement, shaking his head and turning back to his work. Roman could say whatever he wanted, but the fact remained: Remy was (un)happily single and most certainly not dating his roommates.

Yeah, sure, maybe he could’ve mentioned that his ‘best friends’ were also his crushes, but, hey, it wasn’t like that was that important, right?

Patton was staring intently at the floor. Well, more technically, they were staring intently at the mess on the floor and trying to convince themself they were supposed to be cleaning up said mess and not doing anything else with it.

The bell near the front of the store rang as the door swung open, but Patton ignored it. Plenty of people filtered in and out of the store. They did, however, pay attention when the sound of approaching footsteps got closer than the signs should have allowed.

“I’m sorry, this aisle is currently closed, if you don’t mind-” Patton started immediately, tone polite as they looked up, fully expecting to find an angry customer who refused to go over one extra aisle for whatever sweet treat they were looking for. They stopped when they saw who it was, polite-but-fake smile being replaced by a genuine one. “Oh, Virgil, hello there!”

Virgil smiled back, half-waving before he turned his focus to the floor, careful to step around the mix of glass shards and chocolate-covered balls of something as he came up next to Patton. “Busy day?”

Patton shrugged. “It was fine until someone didn’t put the jar fully back on the shelf. I’m just glad no one got hurt.”

Virgil nodded. “That’s good,” he agreed. “Waste of some perfectly good candy though.”

“It is,” Patton bemoaned, looking sadly at the mess. Virgil side-eyed them.

“Pat, you haven’t been considering eating the fallen candy, have you?”

“Maybe?” Patton tried, looking at Virgil only to find his expression completely disbelieving. They sighed. “Yes. It just looks so yummy! Even mixed in with all the glass! Because the glass sparkles and makes it kinda magical looking and it couldn’t hurt to have just one-”

Virgil put a hand on Patton’s shoulder, stopping them from bending down and grabbing one of the candies before they could move an inch. “All the candy here’s magical. Eat some of the candies that aren’t also glassy.”

“Mhmm,” Patton hummed in sad annoyance. “But it’s such a waste… I can stop it from being waste…”

“You could, but should you?” Virgil asked.

Patton groaned. “I shouldn’t,” they said. “But I want to…” They sighed, turning their gaze from the tempting mess to Virgil. “Distract me. Why are you here?”

“Other than to stop you from making poor dietary choices?” Virgil asked rhetorically before going on, “I’m avoiding Roman.”

“Avoiding him?” Patton repeated. “I thought you two were getting along. Don’t tell me he started another prank war-”

“No, he’s just being annoying,” Virgil answered. “He wouldn’t stop bothering me while I worked, because Remy apparently hadn’t been in the mood to entertain his gossip, thereby making me the person stuck listening to it. Guess Kev’ decided letting me walk it off for half an hour was better than me tearing a costume in frustration.”

Patton nodded as they moved to once more hold their broom, beginning to sweep up the mess as they said, “What was the gossip?”

Virgil leaned back on the shelf behind him, waving his hand pointlessly. “Oh, same old same old. Just talking about you and your partners, mostly how oblivious Remy is- which, I get it, Remy can be obtuse, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it all morning-”

“What?!” Patton cut him off, voice a higher pitch than they had intended, stopping halfway through a sweep to look at Virgil in disbelief and confusion. “My- what partners?!”

“...Remy and Drew. Duh,” Virgil said slowly, blinking at Patton as if they were missing something incredibly obvious. “You know. The people you live with. And are clearly dating. Those partners.”

Patton laughed, a weird hybrid sound of amusement and awkwardness. “I think you’re a little confused there, kiddo. I’m not dating Remy or Dee- they’re just my friends!”

“Yeah. Friends you’re dating,” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at Patton. “Don’t tell me you thought I wouldn’t notice. It’s fairly obvious.”

“I don’t know how it can be obvious if it isn’t true.” Patton responded, going back to sweeping as they looked away from Virgil. “We’re just friends. At least I am, anyways.”

“What does that mean?”

Patton briefly looked up from their work to look at Virgil instead. “Aw, shucks, Virge, you’ve seen how Remy and Dee look at each other. If anyone’s dating, it’s them.”

“And you?” Virgil pressed, prompting Patton to look down again at their work. “I’ve seen how Remy and Drew look at each other, but I’ve also seen how you look at them. They’re pretty similar looks, my dude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Patton answered, even as their cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. They risked a glance at Virgil, only to find him looking at them disbelieving. “Okay, maybe I love them a little more than just as friends.” Continued disbelief. “A lot more! But that doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“And why does them looking sweet at each other make them dating, but you doing the same just makes you just friends?”

“Because I think I’d know if I was dating them, silly.” Patton responded simply.

Before Patton could continue, or Virgil could speak up, they were interrupted by the sound of quickly approaching footsteps and the slight crunch of glass as the newcomer misstepped and stepped on the mess. “Well this looks… delightful.”

“Dee!” Patton said, dropping their broom against the shelf as they carefully (but still hurriedly) stepped around the mess to approach their roommate. He was dressed as a friend of Aladdin’s, wearing baggy pants and a raggedy shirt-vest combo, his small red hat carefully hiding his bun, presenting the illusion of him having short hair. Slight touches of make-up highlighted the scar running from beneath his left eye to the bottom of his jaw, Drew always happy to tell the very dramatic tale of how he got it in a sword fight (when the truth of the matter involved a very long story having to do with toast, ferrets, and the reason why he wasn’t allowed to use the ice machine anymore). “What’re you doing here?”

“Why, unhappy to see me?” Drew asked sarcastically, though he was smiling at Patton.

“Never!” Patton responded resolutely. They wobbled a bit as they got closer to Drew, almost stepping on a particularly ugly shard of glass, but Drew reached out and grabbed one of their hands before they could fall, stabilizing them and helping to lead them right up in front of him. Patton giggled at his help, not releasing his hand even once they were done moving. “Just curious. Shouldn’t you be at the wishing well?”

“Oh, I was,” Drew told them, free hand rising up to tuck a stray curl behind Patton’s ear. “But then I wished to see the loveliest face in the world and found myself here with you.”

Patton giggled again. “The wishing well must be broken if it didn’t just provide you with a mirror.”

A touch of pink coloured Drew’s cheeks at Patton’s words, and in the background Virgil turned from watching the two of them to stare blankly at the shelf across from him, as though it was a camera and he was in The Office.

“Trust me, angel, it made no error,” he said, despite his minor blush. “But to better answer your question, have you noticed how bright it is outside?”

“Of course I have,” Patton answered. “It must be warm out there.”

“It is warm,” Drew confirmed, sounding as if there was more he wasn’t saying but wanted Patton to pick up on anyways. “Some might even say it’s hot.”

“Just like you?”

Drew’s blush grew. “I think you’re missing the point.”

Patton’s smile turned a shade mischievous. “I’m not. I’m just waiting for you to admit to it.”

“Cruel, sweetpea, cruel.”

“Just admit it already!”

Drew sighed dramatically. “Alright! I fold! I admit that hydration in the face of the harsh sun is important.”

“Andddddd?”

Another sigh. “I admit that I forgot my water bottle, which I likely wouldn’t have done if I had simply used one of your sticky notes.”

“I even doodled a snake on your reminder!” Patton said, lightly hitting Drew’s chest. “It was cute AND helpful.”

“Just like you,” Drew commented, moving his hand from Patton’s hair to cup their cheek as they flushed. “And I’m sorry, dear, I really didn’t think I’d need it.”

“And yet, you’re here,” Patton teased lightly before turning towards Virgil, extending a hand. “Virgil, there should be a water bottle behind you- think you can hand it to me?”

Virgil did as he was asked, glancing behind him and finding that, yes, perched on the shelf was a metal water bottle covered in snake stickers. He grabbed it and turned back towards Patton, passing them the bottle. Patton took it and turned back to Drew, offering it to him.

“Oh, must I take it?” Drew asked, looking reproachfully at the bottle. “You’re so much nicer to hold.”

“Mmm, you need to get back to work before they catch you slacking,” Patton told him. “I’ll still be around to hold later.”

“Is that a promise?” Drew asked, even as he let his hand fall from Patton’s cheek to take his water bottle.

“Even better,” Patton answered, letting go of Drew’s hand so that they could loop their pinkies together instead. They raised their now joined hands so that they were in easy sight of Drew. “It’s a pinky promise.”

Drew smiled. “Good,” he said, bending his pinky a bit to squeeze Patton’s. “I’m holding you to it,” he punned before reluctantly stepping away, letting his and Patton’s pinkies remain linked until he was forced by distance to let go.

“So,” Virgil spoke up, slightly startling Patton, who had been waving at Drew until he walked out of sight. “You’re not dating them, you lied?”

“I didn’t lie!” Patton defended, moving back towards the broom as they spoke, once more careful to avoid the glass as they stepped. “I’m not dating him! Or Remy!”

“Oh, yeah, because calling each other petnames and trading compliments til you’re both blushing and not wanting to let go of each other and looking at each other like you’re the other’s world is really just ‘best friend’ behaviour,” Virgil said, voice thick with sarcasm.

“We’ve lived in the same apartment for months, Virgil, we’re close!” Patton said as they went back to sweeping. “That doesn’t make us partners.”

Virgil let out a breath. “I know, Pat, but you really should see the way you two were looking at each other. It sure as hell wasn’t plain-ol’ friendly.”

“Language.”

“Stop dodging the point.”

Patton stopped their work, turning to look at Virgil as they rested their chin on the broom handle. “I don’t know what point you think I’m dodging, kiddo. Dee- and Remy- are my friends. They’re dating each other, but I’m not dating them. It’s not that hard to understand.”

Virgil didn’t respond to that at first, instead just blinking slowly at Patton a few times. “I’m starting to understand why Roman was in such a mood,” he finally said as he pushed himself away from the shelves. “If Remy’s half as oblivious as you are, I’d be complaining too.”

“Oblivious about what?” Patton asked, confused. “They know who they’re dating and who they’re not.”

Virgil didn’t answer, instead just chuckling and shaking his head. “I should get back before Kevin decides to be less lenient about my wandering time. See you later, pine-on.”

“Bye, Virge!” Patton said cheerily. “And good pun!”

Virgil responded with a half salute behind his head as he wandered off. Patton watched him off as they resumed their sweeping, focusing on their work and not any of the interactions that had just occurred. Say what he would, Virgil was wrong- Patton’s relationship with Drew and Remy was strictly platonic, and they had no plans to mess with what the three of them did have (an amazing friendship) anytime soon.

Drew dropped his bag before he collapsed against the wall, sliding down it halfway as he let out a huff. Though the day had been no longer than any other, the sun had been much more annoying than usual, and he was ready to be home and surrounded by not only air conditioning but also people he could stand. Absentmindedly he rubbed at the remains of make-up on his face, the only part of his costume he was still in since having changed out at the end of his shift.

“Are you suffering from heatstroke, or just bored?”

Drew looked up, finding Emile in front of him, smiling in amusement.

“A bit of both,” Drew answered truthfully. “Forgot my water bottle at home, though Pat had grabbed it for me at least. But neither their shift nor Remy’s is over for at least another fifteen minutes, so…”

“So I’m just someone to distract you until one of your partners can take over?” Emile asked, teasing.

“My partners in crimes, you mean?” Drew said. “Because I’ve told you before, Em, I really shouldn’t be talking about them here- you’re going to ruin our plan to invade ‘Beauty’s palace and get the treasure.”

“And what treasures are you going to find in there?”

“Hopefully, the key to a full hundred years of rest,” Drew told them before adding, “And gold. Mostly going for the gold.”

“Mhmm.” Emile hummed. “Happy to hear you’ve got your future set. Your criminal enterprises sound like they’re going to go over very smoothly. Now, as to your actual partners…”

“Do you think I’m cheating on my current criminal partners?” Drew asked, sounding offended. “With whom, another team? Emile, I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I think we both know I’m referring to your romantic partners.”

“Ah, yes.” Drew crossed his arms and leaned further back against the wall. “You’re referring to my roommates, who somewhere along the line you got confused as also being my romantic partners. They’re not very good at crime, you know.”

Emile grinned. “Not even good at stealing your heart?”

Drew just waved his hand dismissively. “Patton steals the heart of everyone they meet. Remy is not subtle at all when they go for the steal. Neither of them would make it a day in the world of crime.”

“But you admit that they’ve stolen your heart.”

“I admit they steal everybody’s heart.”

“But not like they’ve stolen yourssssss.”

Drew sighed, pulling his water bottle out of his bag and taking a sip of the water while he waited for Emile to stop. “Don’t be like Virgil and Roman, Emile. You’ve been given the precious gift of actually having a brain cell. Don’t waste it.”

“You can say whatever you want, Drew, but that doesn’t change the truth, even if you’d like to pretend it would,” Emile replied calmly, sounding smug. “We’ve all seen the way you three look at each other. You can’t lie your way out of love truer than that of Tiana, Naveen, and Charlotte’s.”

“Don’t have to lie to tell the truth,” Drew responded, returning his water bottle to its place in his bag. Before Emile could rebuke his words, the door that led outside of the first aid station opened, and two people walked in.

“Excuse me,” Emile said politely to Drew before they headed towards the people. After a brief moment of conversation, Emile walked further into the building with one of them while the other came over towards Drew.

Drew smiled when the newcomer was close enough for him to identify. “Hello, darling.”

Remy returned his smile, leaning against the wall and facing Drew. Remy was clearly off-shift, both costume and nametag removed, and was now sporting a sea-green bracelet. “Good evening, charming. Miss me?”

“Constantly,” Drew answered effortlessly. “I assume the same to be true of you?”

“I miss you every second you’re not in my presence more than the moon misses the sun,” Remy answered, maintaining veir composure for a moment before veir expression broke and ve laughed. “Like that one? I heard someone in the lobby tell it to their husband.”

“It is unbearably cheesy,” Drew told ver. “Though I’m sure also very sweet, if you mean it.”

“Good thing I mean it then,” Remy said jokingly. “People suck. I got yelled at twice today. I missed you and your not-yellingness.”

“Is that all you missed about me?” Drew asked, smile turning sly. “Because I know I miss you for more than just your sometimes-not-annoyingness…”

“Oh really?” Remy asked, shifting so that ve was facing Drew even more. “Well, I miss you for your not-yellingness, and for your looks- scar most certainly included, hun, it makes you look roguish- and for your mind, and your charisma, and, of course, your snark.”

“You flatter me.”

“Look in a mirror, sugar, you make it easy,” Remy told him. “Now I’m dying to know why you missed me.”

“Oh, how could I not?” Drew asked rhetorically. “There’s your charm, as sarcastic as it may be, your humor, your refusal to stand down against idiots, and your sense of fashion- though I must confess, I consider it a sin to hide such dazzling eyes.”

“Compliment my charm when you’re the real charmer ‘round here- I see how it is,” Remy said playfully, smiling.

Drew returned the smile. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Mhmm,” Remy hummed non-committedly, though veir smile didn’t drop. Ve reached forward, brushing some of Drew’s hair behind his ear before moving to run veir fingers through it. Drew leaned his head closer, allowing ver easier access to his hair as ve pulled it over just one of his shoulders. “Your hair’s a mess.”

“It’s been in a bun all day.” Drew explained, closing his eyes and focusing on the soft and calming feel of Remy brushing through his hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp. “It got tangled.”

“Too lazy to fix that problem yourself, sweetheart?”

“I like it better when you do,” Drew admitted.

Remy chuckled as ve continued, veir attention turning more towards gentle touches against Drew’s skin as ve worked. “I should braid your hair tonight. Might not tangle as quickly that way.”

“If we do that, we’ll need to stop at the store on the way home,” Drew said. “Our beloved sunbeam will want to put flowers in my hair, and I do not believe we have any at home.”

“We already needed to stop for some dinner fixin’s anyways,” Remy told him. “We’ll just add ‘flowers prettier than your face’ to the list, though I’m afraid if we go looking for those we’ll never find them.”

Before Drew could return the compliment, the sound of approaching steps stopped him. He opened his eyes just enough to see that they belonged to Emile, who was smiling broadly and just a touch satisfiedly at them, before he closed his eyes once more.

“Hey there, babe,” Remy greeted. “How you?”

“I’m peachy keen!” Emile answered enthusiastically. “Yourself?”

Drew didn’t need to see Remy’s face to know that ve was smirking. “I’ve got the prettiest man in the world melting into my touch, so I’d say I’m doing pretty swell.”

“Bold words from the most gorgeous being to ever grace this planet’s surface,” Drew countered, opening his eyes so he could return Remy’s smirk. “And I’m not ‘melting into your touch,’ I’m giving you easier access to the hair you so wish to tame.”

“Whatever you say, sugar.” Remy responded casually, right before ve ran veir hand through his hair again, stopping halfway through to press veir fingers against the base of his neck, rubbing just the slightest of circles into his skin, which was cheating, because ve knew perfectly well that was one of his weak points. The motion alone had Drew leaning closer towards Remy, letting out a small sigh that morphed into a huff halfway through.

“That’s cheating,” Drew said, trying to sound accusing but only succeeding in sounding tired and slightly whiny.

Remy laughed. “Don’t care, darling, not even a little.”

Drew hissed at ver, only earning himself another laugh.

“Well you two certainly seem happy,” Emile pointed out, the slightest hint of trickery in their tone.

“I’d like to think we are, yes,” Remy said.

“Not that it’s surprising,” Emile continued, failing to sound very innocent. “I’m sure anyone’d be happy spending time with one of their partners.”

“I’m sure they would,” Remy said neutrally. “Not sure what that has to do with anything right now-”

“They’re talking about my partners in crime.” Drew interrupted. “I told them earlier about my plan to raid Sleeping Beauty’s class and steal her secrets to a hundred years of sleep.”

“I see. Well I do hope you plan on sharing those secrets because goodness knows I could do with a good century of napping.”

“Goodness and me,” Drew agreed, reaching forward and pushing Remy’s sunglasses up a bit, frowning at how dark the bags under veir eyes were. “Why else would I steal the secrets if not for you?”

“Awwww, you care,” Remy cooed, tone a mix of goodheartedly mocking and sincere. “And what do you mean, ‘goodness and me’? Hun, you are goodness.”

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s Pat.”

“I don’t see why it can’t be both of you.”

“This is getting ridiculous!”

Drew and Remy turned towards Emile at their outburst, Remy tilting veir head to the side in confusion while Drew asked,

“What is?”

Emile waved their hands at the roommates. “You two! You three! This!”

Remy and Drew glanced at each other before looking back at Emile. “This?” Remy asked.

“You’re so oblivious it puts the Scooby Gang’s obliviousness to Shaggy’s godhood to shame!” Emile said, thoroughly exasperated.

“I’m sorry what was that-”

“I mean, look at you two!” Emile said, gesturing at where Remy’s hand was still running through Drew’s hair. “All you do is compliment each other and worry over each other and know exactly what to do to make the other melt into your touch!”

Drew shrugged. “So? We’re friends.”

“And we’ve lived together for months,” Remy added. “Kinda hard to not pick up stuff about each other.”

“This moved past friendship weeks ago,” Emile told them, crossing their arms. “You can pretend to be sly, but you aren’t.”

“We’re not pretending anything,” Drew replied, raising an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Em? No offense, you seem a little... agitated over this.”

Emile squinted at them. “You’d be agitated if you were me.”

“Huh. Vaguely ominous,” Remy commented idly, unperturbed by the conversation. “You should really talk to Roman though. He’s been having the same misconceptions about me and my roommates’ relationship. I’m sure you two lovelies can find the truth if you talk it out.”

“We’ve already found the truth,” Emile said confidently.

“If you say so,” Remy responded, reaching into veir pocket as ve spoke, pulling out veir phone and checking the time. “Patton’s shift should be over in a couple of minutes. Wanna go greet them?”

“The only sunshine I always want to see,” Drew answered. “Don’t tell them we’re going to braid my hair just yet, though, alright? I’d prefer to surprise them.”

Remy grinned. “Of course, hun.”

Drew returned the grin before shifting over so that he could pick his bag up, ignoring Remy’s protest at his hair moving out of playing-with range. “You do know that going to Patton requires moving, right?”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

Drew chuckled as he straightened up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “You can play more with my hair when we get home, starlight, don’t worry. Come on, let’s go get Pat.”

Remy pouted, but ve still lifted veir arm and allowed Drew to slot himself in against veir side as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Remy’s arm wrapped around the top of Drew’s shoulders, holding him close as they headed towards the doors.

“Have a goodnight, Em,” Drew called over his shoulder right before they left, door lightly thudding as it fell shut behind them.

Emile let out a little huff. “Night-night lovebirds,” they said, even though they knew the couple in question couldn’t hear them. They waited a moment after they left before pulling out their phone, flicking to the group chat they, Roman, and Virgil had lovingly nicknamed ‘operation Get These Gays Together’ (originally known as ‘operation if they don’t get together I’m going to shoot them and then myself’ when Virgil named it) and sending a quick but vital text.

Usually, Emile preferred the passive route. They preferred to push people towards the solution, help them subtly, let them figure it out for themselves with only a bit of their help.

But that method was driving Emile (and Roman and Virgil) insane. They had tried the easy, passive way.

It was time to be aggressive.

The first thing Remy registered upon waking up was that they’d really rather not. The little bit of sun that made its way through their half-open eyelids was already too much and they were almost a hundred percent certain they still needed another five hours of sleep to be anything close to well-rested.

Therefore, immediately after opening their eyes, they shut them once more, rolling over and pushing their face into the surface beneath them to try and drown out all possible light. While this did solve the immediate problem of ‘too much light,’ it presented a new one for them to deal with- the fact that something close to him was warm and moving.

The discrepancy between where they remembered falling asleep last night- on the couch, alone- and where they must be now- somewhere big enough for more than one person to be sleeping, and apparently not alone anymore- was enough to convince Remy to open their eyes again. It was easier if only for the fact that the sun was now behind them, illuminating the sight in front of Remy instead of blinding them.

Remy was unsurprised to find the warm moving ‘thing’ was, in fact, their roommates- Drew curled up against Patton’s back, arms wrapped around their chest, one of Patton’s hands resting on top of Drew’s and their other sprawled out across the bed, almost touching Remy.

The sight made Remy smile. They reached out to lay one of their hands over Patton’s outstretched one, gently rubbing circles and nonsense patterns into their palm while they waited for them to wake up. While they would like to figure out how they ended up in bed instead of on the couch, and while they knew all three of them would eventually have to get up for work, they didn’t see the point in rushing anything. If they were already late for work, hurrying now wouldn’t change that, and Remy had decided long ago that there were few things in the world that mattered to them more than seeing both Drew and Patton rested, relaxed, and happy.

Slowly but surely, Patton began to wake up, shifting around in Drew’s grasp for a moment before their eyes fluttered open and they saw Remy. Upon seeing them, Patton smiled a sleepy but fond smile.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Patton greeted them, yawning partway through their sentence. They twisted their hand a bit so that they could hold Remy’s, beginning to rub circles into the back of Remy’s hand. “You look nice.”

Remy found it doubtful that they, in all their sweatpants, ratty t-shirt, and disheveled hair glory, were looking like anything more than a mess, but they were loath to reject any compliment that came from Patton.

“You look just as cute as always,” they returned, smile growing at Patton’s small giggle at their response. “I am, however, a little curious as to why I’m seeing your beauty right now.”

Patton’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before smoothing out as they realized what Remy was asking. “You fell asleep on the couch last night, right?”

“Last I recall, yes, and I’m sorry to say I don’t remember coming to… wherever this is.”

“It’s my room,” Patton answered. “I was cold, and I had pinky-promised Dee we could cuddle. We were goin’ to ask you to join, but you fell asleep while we were putting away the lasagna and we decided we didn’t want to risk waking you to move you. You’re such a light sleeper… and Dee said you hadn’t been sleeping as much recently.”

As Patton finished speaking, they reached out to brush a thumb underneath one of Remy’s eyes, as if they could erase the bags that were there.

Remy reached up with their free hand to catch Patton’s, gently pulling it away from their face and intertwining their fingers instead. “Don’t worry about me, sunshine, I’m fine. Just a few more sleepless nights than usual.”

Patton hummed, clearly not satisfied, but they didn’t say anymore on the topic. “I know I didn’t bring you in here,” they said instead, looking forlornly at the space roughly a foot long between them and Remy. “I wouldn’t have brought you in here for cuddles and then not cuddled you,” Patton explained, sounding melancholy.

In an attempt to at least partially console them, Remy scooted closer to Patton, narrowing the gap to only a few inches. They kept themself from moving all the way against them only because they knew exactly what would happen, knew Patton’s arms would wrap around them and hold them close, trapping them in the cuddle pile they’d have no will nor want to escape, and, as nice as it sounded to let reality drift away as they sank back into sleep so close to their two favorite people in the world, Remy knew they couldn’t, knew they had to be at least a little bit responsible and wake up and go to work and do more than just waste the day away holding each other.

Though damn if that wasn’t a tempting thought.

“So does that mean Dee moved me?” Remy asked.

“He must’ve,” Patton answered before frowning. “Though I don’t ever remember him getting up… here, I’ll just ask him.”

Patton turned over slightly, letting go of one of Remy’s hands so that they could gently shake Drew’s shoulder. “Dee? Dee, honey, do you think you could wake up for me? Please?”

In response, Drew half-groaned, half-yawned, and shifted so that his head was pressed into the crook of Patton’s neck, effectively hiding him from both his roommates and the sun. Patton giggled quietly at his action before they titled their head around and pressed a slightly awkward kiss to the top of Drew’s head. “I know you don’t want to, love, but you’ve gotta get up.”

Drew didn’t respond for a moment, but eventually he sighed, lazily lifting his head away from Patton’s shoulder. He returned Patton’s kiss atop their head before shifting his attention to Remy, blinking blearily as he focused on the third person in the bed.

“Mornin’ darling dearest Dee,” Remy greeted. “Sleep well?”

“Mhmm,” Drew hummed noncommittally, but from the way his arms tightened around Patton, holding them closer, Remy could guess he had slept very well curled up with Patton. “What’re you doin’ here?” he slurred, awake enough to realize Remy should still be out on the couch if not awake enough to speak properly.

“We were kinda hoping you could answer that one, hun,” Remy said. “Because I don’t remember coming in here, and Patton doesn’t remember moving me.”

Drew frowned. “I didn’t move you. Wanted you to sleep.”

“So I’ve heard,” Remy commented, now frowning themself. “So. If none of us put me in the bed, and none of us have any sleep walking and/or possession problems we haven’t told the others about…”

“How did you end up here?” Patton finished for them, completing the trifecta of frowns.

The unanswered question finally convinced Remy to sit up, squinting as they looked around the room for some explanation. It did appear to be Patton’s room, from the animal posters hung on every wall to the rainbow they had painted onto the light switch cover with nail polish, so it was unlikely they had all been kidnapped, which Remy was going to consider a good thing. Something did stand out to Remy, however.

“Hey, Pat, you haven’t put any random notes on your door recently, have you?”

Patton shook their head in confusion. “No. Why do you ask?”

Remy didn’t answer them immediately, instead sliding out of the bed and heading towards the door. Tapped to it was a folded note, ‘to the oblivious gays’ scrawled on the front of it. Remy pulled it off the door, unfolding it and quickly scanning the message inside. When they finished, they groaned.

“I’m disowning all of our friends.” Remy said, tossing the note to the side in annoyance as they grabbed the door handle, trying (and failing) to turn it. They groaned again. “Fuck.”

“Language.” Patton said automatically as Drew pushed their glasses onto their face for them, Patton blinking a few times as they stopped needing to squint at everything. “What is it?”

Remy ran a hand through their hair as they moved to the only window in the room, attempting to open it for a moment before deeming it a lost cause. They sighed and turned back towards the bed. “We’ve been locked in.”

This got both Patton and Drew to sit up, both looking more awake as they frowned at them. “What do you mean, we’ve been locked in?”

“Exactly what I said,” Remy replied, leaning back against the wall behind them. “Our most lovely friends have locked us all in a room together and apparently won’t let us out until we ‘confess’ or some bullsh- bullcrap, because this is 2012 and we’re a story on fanfic-dot-net.”

“Confess?” Patton repeated before realization dawned on their face. “Oh. I- Virgil was talking about that yesterday, but I didn’t think he actually- well I didn’t think he really meant anything by it.”

“Same with Emile,” Drew said. “They talk about it so often I just figured it was some sort of joke for them.”

“Roman was talking about it too,” Remy added unhappily. “He pointedly ignored all my advances as well, which was rude. I like to think my distractions are at least worth one returned flirt.”

A moment of silence stretched out between them before Drew sighed and said, “So they did this, huh.”

“That’s why I’m disowning them, yeah,” Remy informed him. “Also on the list of disownments is my cousin, because apparently he’s the one who gave them the key they used to break in here and set this whole mess up.”

“Logan’s not usually the type to go for this sort of thing,” Drew pointed out.

“He isn’t, but I think he’s still annoyed about that one time I stole all his Crofter’s.” Remy said. “Though now he’s indirectly keeping me from my coffee, so who’s the real monster here?”

“At least you’ve got us,” Drew offered.

Remy smiled at that, annoyed expression softening. “Yeah, that I do,” they agreed, pushing off of the wall and padding back over to the bed, joining the semi-circle and leaning against Patton’s side. Drew wrapped an arm around both Patton’s and Remy’s backs as soon as they were settled, holding the three of them together.

“So now what?” Patton asked after a moment of comfortable silence. “Should we call in to work sick?”

“The note said they’d cover it,” Remy answered with a scoff. “No clue how they plan to do that, but they’ve made it into a them-problem.”

“And when are they going to let us out?” Drew followed up. “Because we’re going to have to eat soon.”

“I have a bag of emergency cookies in the closet, if worse comes to worst,” Patton added.

“Of course you do,” Drew said, though he sounded only fond.

“They said they’ll swing by around lunch to free us and, I quote, ‘congratulate us on the proposals,’” Remy laughed. “Roman’s words, if you couldn’t guess.”

Drew chuckled. “And if we try to break out of our makeshift prison?”

“They’ve stolen our phones and tapped them to the door, so if we break it down, we risk breaking our phones.” Remy explained. “Logan also reminded us that glass is sharp and dangerous when broken so we shouldn’t even think about shattering the window.”

“So no breaking out,” Drew summed up. “Guess we really are stuck here ‘til they return.”

“Yep,” Remy agreed. They turned their head so that they could plant a kiss against the side of Patton’s head. “At least I’m stuck with y’all. Better be trapped with angels than free with demons.” Remy smiled when Patton blushed a shade of red that Remy thought just made them look even prettier.

“Well someone’s getting awfully poetic,” Drew quipped, though he was also blushing.

“It’s what happens when I don’t have my coffee,” Remy said offhandedly. “Deal with it.”

“Only if you accept that you yourself are also an angel.”

“Oh, rude, babe, real rude to ‘u-too’ my own compliment back at me.”

“If you want to make this easier on yourself, just accept it, my dear,” Drew advised. “I can wax just as poetic as you can, and will if I think I must.”

Remy sighed, holding out the sound for a moment before they folded. “Fiiiine, I’m an angel.” They leaned around Patton, getting close enough that they could press a kiss to Drew’s forehead. “But you’re still the prettier one.”

Drew gasped dramatically at that, but before he could respond, Patton sighed, sounding fond and vaguely melancholy. Remy pulled back from Drew just enough to look at Patton.

“Aw, our sunshine feeling left out?” Remy asked teasingly, kissing Patton’s forehead as well and wrapping their arms around Patton’s waist. “Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re just as pretty as Dee.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that, I promise!” Patton reassured them with a laugh. “You two are just so cute together, that’s all.”

“We’re all cute together,” Remy said, pressing a quick peck of a kiss to Patton’s chin. “Helps that we’re all cute.”

Patton laughed again. “No, I mean- together-together, you know? You’re a good couple.”

Remy and Drew reacted to that, both glancing at each other in confusion and uncertainty. “Couple as in two people, or…?” Drew asked.

Patton raised an eyebrow, now looking confused themself. “I mean, I guess that too, but I mean- well, I mean romantically.”

Another uncertain glance between the supposed ‘couple.’ Remy laughed awkwardly. “Hate to break it to ya, hun, but I think I’d know if I was dating such a cutie.”

“Same here,” Dee echoed.

“Oh. Oh!” Patton said, blushing red now in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, you just- the way you act together, I- you’re so comfortable together-”

“We’re all comfortable together,” Drew pointed out, albeit quieter than he had been speaking a moment ago.

“I know, you just- I- oh, I’m so sorry!” Patton repeated, hiding their face in Drew’s shoulder. “I feel so silly,” they added, their voice now muffled.

Remy chuckled, reaching forward to card their fingers through Patton’s hair. They scooted a little closer to them as they scratched at their scalp as well. “Don’t worry about it, honey-love. Everybody makes mistakes.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…” Patton cut themself off before actually getting to their point, shaking their head a bit before they pressed their face even further into Drew’s shoulder.

“Oh, come now, beloved,” Drew coaxed, rolling his shoulders and trying to convince Patton to lift their head. “You don’t have to hide anything from us, much less your beautiful face or heavenly voice.”

“It’s silly,” Patton whined, just loud enough to be understood. Remy laughed gently, brushing their hair to the side so they could kiss the back of their neck.

“That’s okay. We’re not going to make fun of you or anything,” Remy assured them.

Drew leaned over and kissed the top of Patton’s head, pulling back only a little. “What’d you say, love? Can I see those pretty, pretty eyes?”

It took another moment of Remy playing with their hair and Drew sweet talking Patton before they were convinced, slowly lifting their head up just enough so that Drew could see their eyes. Drew smiled at them. “There you go. Isn’t this nicer?”

A little smile slipped onto Patton’s face. “Your eyes are much, much more gorgeous than the fabric of your shirt, yes.”

“I should hope so,” Drew replied, leaning his forehead against Patton’s. “Now, I’m sure both me and our lovely moonbeam are very curious as to what’s got you trying to hide from us.”

“Yeah, sugar, you’re not usually like this,” Remy added, though they didn’t sound worried, just sweet. “What’s got you feeling so silly and shy?”

Patton rested their cheek on Drew’s shoulder, looking between their roommates. “Promise you won’t hate me?”

“We could never,” Drew and Remy said at the same time.

Patton nodded, took a breath, squirmed a little in place, and finally said, “Y’know how I’ve never really said that you guys are together, even if I had no reason not to say it?”

“Uh… yes?” Remy answered, sounding slightly baffled by the question.

“Yeah, well… there was a reason for that.”

“...Okay?” Drew said, tone matching Remy’s.

“It’s because I didn’t really want to accept the fact that you two were together.”

Twin silence from Drew and Remy. Patton let out a little sigh, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“I didn’t like acknowledging the fact that you were both taken,” A pause to give their roommates a chance to finish for them; when neither of them spoke, Patton continued, “because I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that you were both taken but neither of you were taken with me.”

Another pause, another stretch of silence as Drew and Remy each processed Patton’s words, the confessor themself once more hiding against Drew’s shoulder. Then- dawning understanding.

“Oh,” Remy said first, looking at Drew with wide eyes. “Oh. Patton, I-”

“It’s really okay if neither of you feel the same, really, I don’t even expect you too, we’re friends, and that’s what we’ve always said we were and always been, and that doesn’t need to change I just-” Patton laughed, slightly breathless as they tried to fit everything they wanted to say in only the space of a few seconds, “I just feel silly that I never even bothered to tell you guys because I thought you were dating, that’s all.”

It was quiet as Drew and Remy processed that, Drew looking at the bed as he thought while Remy looked off at the wall, clearly lost in their thoughts. It only took a moment for them to sort them, however.

“Hey, Patton?” Remy said, getting Patton to lift their head once more from Drew’s shoulder and look at them, Patton’s expression a mix of pained and hopeful. Remy reached forwards, cupping one of Patton’s cheeks with one of their hands, smiling a little stupidly as they did so. “Wanna hear a silly little secret of my own?”

Patton's eyes widened, suggesting that they knew exactly what the secret was, but they still said, in a quiet, almost awed voice, “What?”

Remy giggled, just a little, reaching out with their other hand as well and holding Patton’s face in both their hands as they answered, “I have a crush on both my roommates too,” they said in a mock-whisper, as if they were at a sleepover and they were all twelve. “I never told them because I thought they weren’t interested in me like that, but recently I’m starting to think I might be wro-”

Remy’s confession was cut off by Patton letting out a little squeal of excitement, pushing themself forward so that they could wrap their arms around Remy’s midsection, knocking them over and ending up with them both sprawled across the bed. Remy had just barely recovered from the action when Patton started peppering kisses across their face, going over their forehead and both their cheeks before they ended with a kiss on their lips, one that was brief but still sweet and loving and warm and undeniably Patton.

“You jerk.” Patton said, though there wasn’t a hint of heat in their tone as they laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me this three months ago?!”

“I had this whole friendship thing going on that I didn’t want to ruin!” Remy defended with a laugh of their own. “Though, if I had known that’d be your reaction, I’d have gone off and ruined our friendship long ago, sweetness.”

Patton’s smile broke into a grin and they kissed the tip of Remy’s nose, eliciting a quick but joyful giggle from them. “You’re forgiven for your slowness in telling me for how utterly perfect you are.”

“Why thank you, angel,” Remy said, pushing themself up just enough to give Patton a fast nose kiss as well. “But don’t you think we’re missing something- or, better put, someone- from this ‘perfect’?”

Patton’s eyes widened at the reminder. “Oh my gosh, you’re right!” they said before turning around to look at Drew. He was still sitting in the same spot he had been. It was clear he had been watching Patton and Remy, but upon them turning their attention to him, he seemed to suddenly find the entire rest of the room much more interesting to look at.

“Dee?” Patton said, forcing the aforementioned to turn his attention back to them or risk being rude to one of the people he was currently locked in a room with.

“Yes?” Drew asked, trying to sound aloof and neutral. He failed horribly, however, his voice coming out as something closer to mock-formal.

“Me and Remy have both made our confessions… do you have one of your own?” Patton asked, once more sounding hesitant.

When Drew didn’t respond instantly, Remy rushed to add, “It’s completely alright if you don’t, of course. No pressure whatsoever, we can still be friends, it’s just- well, not to sound like the people who locked us up in here in the first place, but I kinda feel like that’s not really what we should be.”

“I-” Drew started before cutting himself off, looking down as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “I do love you guys, really; I mean, who couldn’t after living with you for so long, you’re too incredible not to love, but… I don’t know how I love you.”

“...Care to elaborate?” Remy pushed after a minute stretched in silence.

Drew shifted in place. “I guess… we’ve spent our entire friendship doing everything a couple might do- spending time together, learning each other’s favorite things, getting stupidly domestic, literally sleeping together, cuddling, sharing little kisses, and I just… don’t know if I love you romantically or not.”

“Alright,” Patton said slowly, nodding their head before frowning. “I’m… not sure how to figure that out.”

“Me neither,” Remy admitted. “There must be something romantic we haven’t done with you, right?

Drew shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve covered all of the bases, as far as I can tell. No wonder everyone thought we were dating…”

“Not all of them,” Patton said, pulling Drew out of his barely started musings. They smiled at him, softly and sweetly and just a bit shyly. “Dee?”

“...Yes?”

“Do you want to kiss us?”

“Kiss you- I already have kissed you, what do you…” Drew cut himself off as he realized what Patton meant, his cheeks quickly turning a crimson red.

Remy chuckled as they sat up, Patton shifting a bit to their side so that they could properly sit up. “Hate to put words in your mouth, sweetheart, but I’mma guess that means yes?”

“I… yeah, yeah it does,” Drew conceded, chuckling a little awkwardly. “That sounded awfully charming.”

“Everything you say is charming when you’re a charmer,” Patton responded, and Drew’s cheeks turned a shade darker as the awkwardness in his expression relaxed into something more akin to soft adoration.

Patton patted the bed directly in front of them and Remy. “Come over here, lovely.”

Drew did so willingly, pulling himself over so that he was once more part of the group. Patton smiled tenderly at him as he settled himself before reaching out and gently taking his face in their hands.

“Stop me if you need to, okay?” Patton said. Drew half-laughed, half-scoffed.

“I doubt I’ll want you to stop, much less need you to,” he told them, and Patton smiled wider at him before leaning in, their careful and loving hold on Drew’s face holding him still until their lips were connected.

The kiss was longer than Patton and Remy’s had been, more planned, but it was still just as welcoming and comfortable, as if this wasn’t their first kiss but instead their hundredth; somehow both oddly familiar and excitingly new.

Without even realizing it, Drew found himself leaning it, placing his hands on Patton’s waist to hold steady as he did so, more than happy to drown in the kiss as much as he could.

Patton pulled away when he was reaching the edge of breathlessness, smiling brightly at Drew even as they moved back, still holding his face. “How was that?”

“I love you,” Drew said as an answer, letting out a laugh in the form of a huff as he went on, “Oh, god be damned, Patton, I love you.”

“Language,” Patton chided lightly, though they both knew it meant nothing.

“Hey now,” Remy spoke up, drawing Drew and Patton’s attention. They were pouting, though amusement flashed in their eyes. “I’m feeling a little forgotten over here.”

“Forget you?” Drew asked, normally suave tone now simply breathless and incredulous. “I could never.”

“Then prove it,” Remy demanded, reaching out and making grabby hands at Drew despite the fact that he was barely two feet from them. Drew didn’t mind it, however, simply laughing at the display of affection. He gently took Patton’s hands off his cheeks, kissing the back of both of them (to the delight of Patton) before releasing them and closing the small gap between him and Remy.

“There you are,” Remy said, as if Drew had been hiding somewhere far off and not simply kissing their partner (their partner, not just his partner but Remy’s too) instead of Remy. “Do I get kisses now?”

Drew laughed. “Yes,” he said, not bothering to drag the moment out as he reached forwards, cupping one of Remy’s cheeks in his hand and pulling them closer. “You get kisses now.”

He kept to his promise as he kissed Remy, not holding it out for one long kiss like he and Patton had done but instead kissing them over and over and over again, quick little kisses that lasted seconds but still meant worlds to the both of them, that were still caring and inviting and loving even if they were brief. It worked better that way, Drew decided, especially when Remy evidently grew bored of just kissing his lips and moved on to covering the rest of his face with kisses instead.

“I’m starting to think I really am a jerk for not confessing anything sooner,” Remy said when they had, apparently, deemed Drew’s face properly kissed, now pulled back so that they could look Drew in the eyes as they grinned lopsidedly. “I’ve been severely neglecting giving you- and Patton- all the kisses you two deserve.”

“Not that that ever stopped you when we were friends,” Patton pointed out, leaning against Remy’s side and reaching out to hold one of Drew’s hands as well.

“That’s because even then I knew I was making a mistake,” Remy said, happily taking advantage of the fact that Patton was once more close to them to kiss their forehead.

“I just can’t believe the people who locked us up had it right,” Drew said, squeezing Patton’s hand as the hand he had been using to cup Remy’s cheek moved to hold one of Remy’s hands. “We really have been horribly oblivious, huh?”

Remy laughed. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate, yeah,” they agreed before smiling mischievously. “We’re not going to let them know that though, right?”

“Oh, goodness, of course not,” Drew responded. “Otherwise they might start thinking locking people up will always work, or, even worse, they might get an ego boost.”

“I think Roman will explode if that happens- his ego’s already big enough as is,” Patton added. Drew’s and Remy’s attention immediately turned to them, both looking shocked, to which Patton defended, “What? I can be petty towards our friends too!”

Drew chuckled as he quickly kissed Patton’s cheek. “That you can, dearheart, that you can.”

“It’s not like you’re wrong either,” Remy pointed out. “Really, letting Roman know this planned work might kill him. We’re just going to have to pretend it didn’t, for his sake.”

Patton and Drew both nodded as solemnly as they could given the circumstances. “I vote that we tell them this experience has really brought us closer together in our friendship instead,” Drew offered. “That way we can still be horribly obnoxious-” Drew paused to peck quick kisses to each of his partners’ noses to prove his point before continuing “-and also keep Roman and his ego safe.”

“A perfect plan,” Patton agreed. “Though… what do we do if they catch us calling each other partners?”

“We tell them how we decided we really felt like ‘friends’ no longer properly described how close our friendship was, so we decided to start using partners,” Remy answered immediately with a grin. “Really, we can turn anything into just another extent of our ‘friendship’ is we try hard enough. The real question is for how long do we do that? When do we give them their satisfaction?”

Drew hummed in thought for a moment before he said, a wicked smile racing his face as he spoke, “I’d say we’ll have to wait them out at least until we get married. We can tell them it’s for tax benefits.”

“We’re going to get married?!” Patton exclaimed, eyes shining at the thought.

“Well, I mean-” Drew floundered for a moment, clearly having gotten so caught up in how to best taunt their friends that he hadn’t even considered the implications of what he had said “-we’ve only just got together, but- if this lasts and we don’t regret anything, well-”

“We’re going to get married!” Patton repeated, this time with no question in their tone, tugging Drew closer to themself and pulling Remy closer as well so that they were all squished against each other. “We’re going to get married and we’re going to move out and find a better apartment with one huge bed- oh, or we could get a house with one big bed, and we’re going to adopt a dog- no, two dogs- no, ten dogs!- and-”

Drew gently stopped Patton’s rant by kissing them until they were breathless, resting his forehead against theirs when he finished. “And we’ll drive our friends absolutely insane with what a lovely life we’ll be living,” he added softly.

Remy moved to press their forehead against both of their partners’. “And we’ll be in love forever,” they added, which was an extraordinarily cheesy thing to say, but in the moment, it also felt like the right thing to say.

In fact, pressed against the two most important people in the world to them, still feeling giddy at everything that had happened in the span of barely fifteen minutes, Remy felt as if, for the first time in a long time, absolutely everything was just as it should be.

They were looking forward to getting used to that feeling.

#mosleepceit #ts patton #ts janus #ts remy #ts sleep #ts roman #ts virgil #emile picani #ts logan mentioned #the cryptid speaks #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #dani #argo #this fic is a huge mess but hopefully it's a decent one sbdfcsdjf

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aliferous-ly · 6 years

Text

For When There’s Nothing Left To Do: Chapter One

Chapter Summary: Roman meets a mysterious stranger who only introduces himself as “Anxiety”. They decide to travel together. Strength in numbers, after all.

Pairings: eventual LAMP, chapter contains prinxiety

Warnings: swearing, fear, anxietyyy, wyrm?, self deprication, wounds

Read on AO3

Art by @anxious-but-whatever (i cri) [here!!]

Roman vaguely regretted parts of his actions. Of course, he lived life looking forwards, not backwards, but perhaps he’d been a bit rash. A bit. His place back home, as impersonal, lonely, and pathetic as it was, seemed palace-like now.

And, of course, there was food. And warmth. Warmth was a big part of that. “That” being his desire to go home.

Teeth chattering, Roman wondered if extreme chill caused one’s very thoughts to stutter.

Being cold... well, Roman didn’t do “cold”. He never got cold. Usually he retained enough energy to remain under respectable body temperatures. Usually he went to bed in his feather-stuffed comforter, too, but usually wasn’t his life anymore, was it?

Roman allowed his eyes to stray to the only being within miles, probably. They shivered, almost imperceptibly, curled into their body and face trained towards the quickly freezing earth.

Roman gazed at the sputtering fire, fingers twitching underneath his cloak.

“You’d think the stars would show up away from the city,” Roman heard himself say. His companion glanced at him in something akin to surprise, perhaps irritation.

“It’s not like we’re in the plains,” his companion said, voice blank. “There’s trees. Surprise, stars can be blocked by foliage.”

Irritated, then. Roman could work with this.

“There are still places where you can see the sky,” Roman countered, tensing his arms and rubbing them against his sides.

“Apparently not enough for your entitled ass,” they muttered, slowly but surely bending into a ball.

“Ex-cuse me for wanting to see the stars,” Roman said, infusing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “I should’ve known you’d want to be in pitch dark.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” they said sharply, dark eyes glaring at Roman, their pupils flickering in the firelight.

“Twas a dark and stormy night, and the emo prince of Darkness decided to creep out of their cave of the damned,” Roman said in a stage whisper, wiggling his fingers for effect before tucking his hands back against his body.

They flinched a little too violently to be justified, eyes staring daggers into the ground. “When I creep out of the depths of hell, you mean. And, he/him, but I didn’t think you’d be considerate.”

Roman didn’t mention the way the man’s voice warbled, saying instead, “of course, cave of the damned being the entrance to the depths of hell. And who am I to assign such labels?”

A soft noise came from his figure which Roman decided to interpret as a laugh, or in the least, a soft snort. In the dead of the night, Roman felt as if anything could happen.

“How did you end up here?” Roman asked, voice soft. Before he could respond he continued with, “I think I’m young enough to restart, but I don’t know if I want to. Sometimes I feel forced into... life.”

An audible silence stretched between the two and Roman maintained his gaze, his companion’s figure seeming to fade into the dusty background as the quiet continued.

“I left,” he said, and Roman nearly started at his voice. It was... gentle, and scratchy, full of more emotion than the dry sarcasm from before. “I left because I am tired of being forced into life.”

“You’re more admirable than I,” Roman said, pushing sincerity into his tone, because he knew that more often than not he leaned towards superfluous and gaudy tones, inaccurate to his true feelings. He needed him to, well, to know that he was more than his (amazing) dramatic exterior, than his (beautiful) loud voice, than his (...) irritating personality.

“Doubtful,” he said, voice like a steel trap. Something clogged in Roman’s throat and he found himself unable to respond.

Icy fingers of wind pushed past Roman’s clothes, scratching goosebumps onto his skin and trailing a deep chill against his bones. Roman ignited his inner flame, his personal furnace, and nearly missed the way the man across the (dying, flickering, shrinking) fire shuddered violently.

“We should get some rest,” Roman said pointedly, rising with legs like logs and crusted joints.

He glanced at him without moving his head. “Alright.”

When he didn’t move from their seat, Roman frowned. “Well, are you coming?”

“I don’t have a tent,” he pointed out, jerking his arms to his body and tensing.

“I am aware,” Roman said slowly. “You’re using my tent.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, sarcasm and dry tone returning full force. “Where would you sleep?”

“My tent,” Roman said, amusement shining through.

Willing to bet he had no response forthcoming, Roman started towards his tent, pausing to look over his shoulder. “It’s either my tent or the embers.”

“I could just die,” he said instantly. Roman couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, and he didn’t particularly want to challenge that notion.

“I can’t have your death on my conscious,” Roman said instead. “C’mon.”

When he still hesitated (Roman couldn’t imagine why; he’d shared sleeping quarters with other men multiple times. Not necessarily wonderful times, more like packed together during training, but it was experience nonetheless), Roman held his arms out. “Have I lead you wrong yet?”

“Jury’s still out,” he said, words jumping out of his mouth. Roman shrugged helplessly and he stood, finally, stretching only slightly (the wind chilled anything that it touched).

Smirking to himself, Roman turned on his heel and started towards his tent, trusting he would follow. He’d set up the tent not too far from the fire on purpose, and Roman opened the flap, waving his arm through with a dramatic, “after you.”

He glared at him, understandably so, and ducked under the entrance.

“What should I call you?” Roman said, realizing that while they had traveled all day together, he’d never received his name.

“My name is–” he cut themselves off, then said, “You can call me... Anxiety.”

“Anxiety?” Roman thought out loud. “I’m assuming that is not your name, then?”

“No,” he said, notably lacking regret. “Names hold power.”

A series of images flashed through Roman’s mind’s eye. “Very true.”

His scabbard, holding his run-of-the-mill iron training sword, felt hollow.

After preparing for sleeping, exchanging a few more quips with Anxiety, and settling underneath the cloth, the brunt of the day hit Roman full force.

Oh hell, was he really out in the Perilous Forest?

Originally he considered the name a joke, because who named, or called, a forest “Perilous?” It didn’t seem serious at all. Of course, he’d never entered the forest before. No matter how funny Roman thought the name was, Perilous Forest was not to be taken lightly.

Having traveled before in less than desirable conditions, Roman assumed himself up to the task, but the moment he set foot in the Perilous Forest, he just... knew.

It was only describable to those who’d entered before. Simply knowing that the area you walked through was... less than average. Weird. “Strange things happen here, unexplainable things” kind-of weird.

That, and he saw a blood-red fox within fifteen minutes. They had blinked at him with amethyst eyes (purple, Jesus Christ, foxes don’t have purple eyes) before disappearing. The brush didn’t move.

And yet, Roman knew – knew, this instinctual, explainable force that lead his life, really, this knowing – that he must travel through. When he ran into Anxiety within the first two hours, well, he knew they must travel together.

Plus Anxiety had a small rock which, when he threw it at a large dyre-raccoon, turned the creature into solid rock. When he saw Roman he threw another rock at him, but when it hit his shoulder (yes, it did hit him – rocks turning animals into solid rock could be distracting) it merely sparkled in gold light and fell into his palm.

They decided to travel together. Strength in numbers, after all.

Anxiety didn’t talk much. Roman didn’t mind. Talking, at that moment, had felt exhausting.

“Words should be spared,” Anxiety had said at one point. Roman let the phrase tumble through his brain, tinkering with meanings and purposes. Anxiety had sounded rehearsed, the phrase repeated.

An old mentor? A sibling? Parents?

Roman forced himself to stop thinking about Anxiety. Anxiety was only a travelling partner, nothing more. Especially since Anxiety obviously wanted nothing to do with Roman. Especially since Roman needed to find–

Anxiety hadn’t deigned to tell him his name. Roman felt that relatively self-explanatory: I don’t trust you. We aren’t friends.

Which he shouldn’t, and they weren’t. Roman, daft, loud, exuberant Roman, should not be trusted. And Anxiety had met him that day, really, Roman couldn’t blame him.

He really needed to stop thinking about Anxiety.

Roman turned his mind to duller thoughts, an attempt at sleep. Rest made everything better.

Well, he hoped. And hope continued to remain one of his few solaces.

—

Virgil, used to being cold, felt incredibly, wonderfully warm.

He snuggled deeper into the soft blankets beneath his hands, exhaling softly to feel the warm air flutter against his fingers. His old room retained cold incredibly well, the hard floors and unforgiving walls far from his bed making him feel vulnerable and weak, unable to protect–

But, right now, warmth settled to his bones, relaxing his muscles and making his entire body pliable. Safe.

The thought sent warning bells, ringing between his ears, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to jerk to his feet or do anything else drastic and likely unneeded.

Still. His instincts had never failed him before, and safety usually meant something or someone – no, no, no, someone someone only one person had made him feel that way – just, awful. Safety gave a false sense of security and Virgil was tired of falling victim to its wiles.

Slowly, slowly, Virgil edged away from the heater to his right. Roman. Roman, the talkative, nice, prince-like (prince-like) man who’d decided they were to be traveling partners.

Virgil didn’t mind. He rather... no, he appreciated it. The Perilous Forest (who really named these things?) held many dangers beyond his imagination. Of course, he could always take off his gloves.

Virgil hated taking off his gloves.

When he was a reasonable distance from Roman’s sleeping figure, he sat up, and was struck with a mortifying realization.

The tent, despite his former thoughts, claimed quite a bit of space. Roman and Virgil had plenty of room for both of them to sleep comfortably and distanced from one another, as strangers should. Despite, well, despite the extra room, Virgil had gradually shifted closer to Roman – to Roman’s heat, of course.

Virgil paused. Why was Roman so warm? Virgil wasn’t commonly around other people, not enough to know the average heat one should exude, but Roman almost certainly ran higher than “most people”.

Virgil pushed down his personal space warning bells and hesitantly reached forward, brushing the backs of his fingers against Roman’s cheek and drawing away almost immediately. Eyes blown wide, Virgil glanced between his fingers and Roman’s cheek. Yes, Roman was most definitely burning up.

Did that mean Roman was sick? Did Virgil have to take care of him? Virgil had no idea how to care for a sick person, especially in the middle of the Perilous Forest, of all places. A small seed of resentment planted in Virgil’s head. Really, could Roman have picked a worse time to come down with some virus?

“Ah...” Roman let out a small noise, blinking his eyes open and staring at Virgil’s wide-eyed expression. “...uh.”

“You’re awake,” Virgil said dumbly, flexing his fingers subconsciously. Realizing that he was on his knees, kneeling towards Roman, he jumped back.

“I am,” Roman said, a smidgen of uncertainty edging its way into his voice.

How? He was on fire a moment ago...

“How are you alive?” Virgil demanded in his tactful way. “Your face is at melting temperature.”

“Melting temp–” Roman blanched and reached up to touch his face absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Don’t get sick in the middle of a forest,” Virgil snapped, knowing his irritation was irrational and he was likely ruining all future positive interactions with him. Yet he couldn’t stop the words from running out of his mouth. Roman couldn’t die on his hands! He could tell Roman was a good person, someone who might make a difference in the world, as opposed to him, who would probably die and sink into the dirt before he turned thirty, if he was being optimistic.

“I’m not sick,” Roman said, his sigh interlaced with relief, exasperation, and something else Virgil couldn’t identify (he prided himself on being able to read expressions and moods, came in handy when figuring out if one despised him or was simply putting on a front).

“There’s no other explanation,” Virgil said shortly, crossing his arms.

Roman stared at his hands wordlessly, moving his fingers as if trying for the first time. “I run hot.”

“That wasn’t just hot, don’t give me that shit,” Virgil said, words sharpened into points.

“Alright,” Roman said slowly. Holding his fist in front of him he said a simple, “don’t freak out,” (at which his anxiety instantly spiked, because one does not start anything ever with that phrase) before his fist lit on fire.

After an admittedly embarrassing squeak left his mouth and his body went into half-fetal-position-we’re-in-danger mode, Virgil realized the flame was glowing a soft orange as opposed to the changing reds and oranges of a campfire. “Oh what the hell.”

“Yeah,” Roman said eloquently, relaxing his hands and letting the orange flames dance around his fingers. “Orange is only one setting, but that’s why I’m so hot when sleeping. Of course, I’m hot all the time,” he said, voice cheeky enough that Virgil could tell Roman was no longer talking about temperature.

“One setting?” Virgil said. “How much... magic do you have?”

“More than the average person,” Roman deflected, extinguishing the flame swiftly. “But, I told you. Don’t go... yelling it to the winds, or anything.”

“You assume I care that much,” Virgil said, barely meaning the words. Perhaps he cared a little too much – after all, he related on a scarily similar level. Having high levels of magic in this world... that could be dangerous.

“You have more magic than normal,” Roman pointed out, harshly reminding Virgil how alarmingly perceptive he could be.

“You’re not wrong,” Virgil evaded, looking at the exit to the tent. “We should get ready. We’re losing daylight.”

“Okay,” Roman said easily. He pushed the blankets off his body and started preparing for the day, Virgil gradually following his movements. Virgil still wasn’t entirely sure how to... survive on his own. Used to being catered to, Virgil carefully copied Roman’s movements and noting them for when they split and he was... alone again.

“If we keep going east we’ll hit the edge of the forest by tomorrow, most likely,” Roman said.

Virgil made an affirming hum, fiddling with his pack and double checking if he had everything.

“But if we stop a little earlier tonight, I can reserve some energy for the fire and keep us a bit warmer than last night,” Roman said.

Virgil blinked at the casual reference to his magic. Normally people muted their magic, used it for small tasks, didn’t mention it in daily life. “Okay.” Roman had no such qualms, and it was... refreshing, in a way.

When they started out, little was spoken between the two. Virgil despised talking while walking, and no late night heart-to-heart would change that. Roman made a few benign comments and small talk throughout the day.

At around noon, the hair on the back of Virgil’s neck stood up. The wind picked up, only slightly, but noticeable enough that Virgil felt instantly on edge.

“You alright?” Roman asked, chewing on some dried meat from his pack. Virgil noted how at ease Roman appeared, how obviously Roman could not tell something was off.

“Yeah,” Virgil had said, lying through his teeth. Roman nodded without a second thought, and they continued, Virgil keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

Clouds covered the sky, and they trekked onward.

—

Roman sprinted, slipping and sliding on the leaf-covered ground. Shit, Anxiety, where – a tree seemed to materialize out of nowhere and he darted to the left to avoid it, tripping over his feet and slamming into the ground. He instantly jumped to his feet, the smallest sting pricking at his arm.

Tears burned in his eyes and Roman forced himself to keep going, keep running, keep –

The ground disappeared from underneath his feet and he screamed, tucking his arms against his head and seeing harsh, jagged rock, the bright stars, and rain-slick cliffs before crashing into the ground. He felt his body snapping, shock injecting into his system, and the world flashing bright white before cutting to black.

—

Virgil glanced at Roman, the sky darkening far quicker than it logically should. He could taste rain in the air, but Roman seemed to have no indication of stopping. When the first drop fell, Virgil paused mid-step, but Roman continued.

“Are we walking in the rain?” Virgil finally asked, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice (and likely failing).

“Of– oh,” Roman stopped then as if seeing Virgil for the first time. “Oh, yeah, we probably should, shouldn’t we?”

“Uh...” Virgil squinted at him in a half-hearted attempt to interpret his actions.

“In training,” Roman clarified. “We rarely stopped for anything. Sometimes I forget I’m not... there anymore.”

“Training for what?” Virgil asked.

“To be a knight,” Roman said, the phrase a strange mixture of dejected and pompous, as if he was so used to saying it with extreme dramatics and pride that he didn’t know how to say it naturally.

“Noble,” Virgil said, not knowing what else to say.

“I guess.” Roman pursed his lips. “Seems like it should be.”

Virgil would say how being a knight was supposedly the epitome of being noble, but he knew personally how un-noble the knights – real, full-fledged knights – could occasionally be.

Roman, Virgil decided, would be one of the best knights he’d ever met.

“You’ll continue your training when you return, then?” Virgil said carefully.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” Roman said, rubbing at his face in frustration. “I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”

“Shut up,” Virgil said. “You’d be a fine knight. I would know.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Roman said. He paused, then added, “How?”

A flash of fear jolted through Virgil’s body. “How what?”

“How would you know I’d make a good knight?” Roman clarified, despite Virgil knowing exactly what he was asking.

“I just do,” Virgil said vaguely.

“Mmkay,” Roman said, blatantly not believing him. “Tell me whenever, or never. I don’t mind.”

Virgil’s memory flashed to the night before, to Roman holding his fist in front of him and lighting it on fire, to “But, I told you. Don’t go yelling it to the winds, or anything.”

“I’m the prince,” Virgil blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth a split second later.

Roman stilled. “What?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Virgil said, rushing through his sentences and stumbling over words. “Let’s just keep going or set up camp or something.”

“No, you just said–” Roman stopped in front of him and caught his forearms with his hands. “Anxiety–”

“That’s not even my name, you don’t know me,” Virgil spat, wrenching his arms away from Roman, away from the knight-in-training, away from the fire-wielding stranger he just spilled a close-kept secret with, someone who would send him back to the palace back to his old life back to being constrained by everyone and everything –

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Roman said softly, soothingly, holding his palms forwards and backing away, giving Virgil space to breathe. “I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise. I just... need confirmation. The prince?”

Virgil nodded, unable to speak for the moment. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands against his upper arms, feeling the soft fabric of his gloves rub against his skin comfortingly.

“Alright. Okay. Wow. I, uh... Wow, I don’t really...” Roman stuttered more than said. “Should I... bow? Or kneel? Oh man, I slept right next to you, that’s probably breaking all sorts of laws–”

“Stop, oh god,” Virgil waved his hands in front of his face. “I ran away for a reason. Please do none of that.”

“Call you your highness–” Roman continued, a teasing edge to his voice.

“I swear I’ll arrest you if you do,” Virgil said gravely.

Blatantly ignoring the dark tone in Virgil’s voice, Roman laughed. “Alright, dark and stormy, whatever you say.”

A crack tore across the sky and the light sprinkles transformed to a downpour within seconds. Virgil found refuge under a tree without checking for Roman, who ended up following him anyway.

“Damn,” Roman said. He flicked some wet hair out of his face and peered through the drops. “That was fast.”

“Really,” Virgil said, hugging his arms to his body. “When I ran I didn’t realize how cold I’d be all the time.”

“Ah.” Roman’s figure lit up in soft orange light, small flames flickering above his skin. Virgil instinctively leaned closer to him, closer to the warmth suddenly radiating from Roman.

“The fire won’t burn you,” Roman promised, his arm hovering uncertainly above Virgil’s shoulders. “Orange never gets hot enough to wound.”

“How many colors do you have?” Virgil asked. Eyeing Roman’s arm and falling on his common philosophy of fuck it he leaned into Roman’s side, the man’s arm falling naturally onto Virgil’s shoulder and enveloping him in warmth.

“Orange is warmth, Yellow is mostly pure light,” Roman said, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb on Virgil’s shoulder. “Uh, green helps ward away sickness, I think. Light green, I mean. Dark green gives me more protection. Dark blue helps plants, which was weird to find out. I don’t have all the colors, yet, like red, purple, pink, other things.”

“Can you make normal fire?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman flicked out the thumb not against Virgil’s shoulder and lit the tip of it, reddish-yellow flames flickering on the tip.

“That looks pretty red,” Virgil said.

“I mean, yeah, but I don’t think it’s my red fire.” Roman doused the flame and tucked his hand against his chest, the orange glow turning a little brighter. “The colors show up as time goes on. My first color was dark green.”

“Dark green,” Virgil repeated. “For protection?”

Roman’s form stiffened, telling Virgil more than his words ever would. “I guess. Didn’t have much – I mean, it was a totally random color, y’know? Never figured out why, I mean...”

“When I was younger,” Virgil said without thinking. A small part of him screamed at him to shut up shut up shut UP but another part couldn’t handle the orange flame starting to dull, and not because it would mean less warmth. “Objects started responding to me in ways that didn’t make sense.”

Roman’s arms squeezed his shoulders, prompting him to continue.

“It was little things at first. A snake toy would start moving, or a marble would always go to the right spot, or my blanket would always reappear near me. My parents thought it was little magic I’d find, there’s lots of magic pockets at the palace,” Virgil said quietly, swallowing down apprehension at sharing his life. A lightning bolt crashed across the sky, igniting it and splitting it in two for half of a second.

“I, uh, it ended up just being me,” Virgil said. He put his hands in front of him. “That’s why I wear gloves. Then I don’t affect things.”

“Those rocks you were throwing?” Roman said, realization dawning in his voice. “You touched them and they turned the animal into rock. But they didn’t do anything to me.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s a fickle magic.”

“I think it’s fate,” Roman said.

Virgil stared at him with a deadpan expression, rolling his eyes when he saw the teasing grin Roman wore. “Of course.”

“How else would a dashing knight-in-training meet the brooding, rugged prince?” Roman said, dramatics oozing from his pores. “It’s a fairy-tale waiting to happen.”

“Make the knight in training female and the prince ridiculously handsome and you have the plots of at least a dozen books I can think of off the top of my head,” Virgil said.

Roman looked like he was fighting to say something, shoulders twitching, when he blurted out, “One of those is already true.”

Virgil backtracked, rerunning over his statement. “Oh, shit, are you a woman? Have I been misgendering you this whole time? Shit, Roman, I’m sorry–”

“No!” Roman said loudly. “I’m not a woman.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, sighing in relief. Realization hit him like a brick. “Oh.”

Roman thought he was handsome? Roman? If he were to quote himself, then “ridiculously handsome”, oh, oh.

Heat traveled to his face and Virgil said a quiet, “oh” that came out as more of a squeak than anything else.

(How could Roman believe that Virgil was handsome? Roman, with his beautiful face, Roman, with his strong stance, Roman, thought Virgil–)

A loud growl interrupted their mutually rapid thoughts and they stiffened simultaneously. The rain seemed to slow, the number of drops just as numerous yet falling at a slower rate.

“Oh no,” Virgil said softly. He knew that growl. He knew exactly what that growl meant.

“What? What is it?” Roman asked him, just as softly and staring into the slow drops of rain, trying to see.

“On the count of three, run,” Virgil muttered, slowly edging his way backwards.

“What? Anxiety, you’re not making any–”

“One.”

“I can’t just run away, that’s–”

“Two.”

“Anxiety–”

“Three!” Virgil grabbed Roman’s wrist and sprinted in the opposite direction of the growl, running, running, running because there was nothing else one could do when–

The wyrm howled and crashed through the trees, unholy screeches and the cracking of trunks filling Virgil’s every sense, his rain-slicked palm sliding against Roman’s wrist until suddenly he couldn’t feel it anymore, and Roman was gone, he wasn’t behind him anymore, and–

“ROMAN!” Virgil screamed, throat raw and panting and scared. “NO! ROMAN!”

The wyrm rapidly approached him and Virgil hoped, hoped to any god or being above that Roman’s remains weren’t mangled in the wyrm’s stomach. If the wyrm focused on Virgil, then it couldn’t focus on Roman, and Virgil felt his glove fall off and his fingers wrap around a stone before he could think.

Virgil threw the rock behind him and heard an explosion shake the trees followed by an ear-splitting screech.

He didn’t look, he didn’t stop, because he knew the moment hesitation snuck in he would be a goner. Rain pelted his face and arms, branches cutting streaks into his skin and leaves blocking his vision. The dull roar of the storm and the pitched shrieks of the wyrm pounded against his ears and Virgil sobbed, tripping on roots and twisting his ankle, he was sure, but he couldn’t stop –

Or, he could. Death by a wyrm sounded brutal but truthfully, in the grand scheme of ways to die, there were worse. Well, a wyrm sounded like a noble death regardless, right? Wyrms were large terrifying creatures, nobody would question if Virgil was too slow or too clumsy to outrun one.

He could die here.

Wasn’t that what he wanted?

An echo of the cacophonous sound rang through his head and the world was quiet for one clear moment. Limbs moving in slow motion, the rain glinting off of light, trees deep brown and green, long, ridged scales swirling with a gaping maw lined with teeth...

Virgil read the anger in its eyes, the almost defensive stance of its head, the blades of shining, clean silver, sharpened...

A clean, clear voice cut through the chaos.

“Stop!”

Virgil saw pale, weathered wood as the world rushed back into focus. Run, run, run, don’t get eaten–

A lone figure stood in front of a door and wow, that sucks was all Virgil could think before he ran headfirst into the wall, the world flashing to black.

#okay i canNot stop staring at the wyrm like??? what/?? the hell???? its so good jesus #ts-storytime 2018 submissions #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #for when there's nothing left to do #IM SO TIRED OK

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