Chapter Text
Ah, soulmates.
Roman didn’t care too much about his soulmate, if he was being perfectly honest, it didn’t matter too much to him whether eventually he got married or fell in love with his perfect match.
He knew he had a soulmate - from the My Chemical Romance lyrics when he was eleven to the prettily drawn flower about three days ago, he had received a menagerie of messages on his arms - but he didn’t even acknowledge them. He wouldn’t do it in the future either, because really, how much did it really matter?
“Logan, did you get the suit tailored for my party tonight?” Roman asked, calling for his… assistant? Babysitter? The person whose college education was paid for in exchange for acting as Roman’s butler?
“I did.”
“And did you make it to the grocery store?”
“Affirmative.” Logan was as stiff as usual, both in tone and posture.
“Did you see him again?”
“I did not.”
“Are you coming to the party tonight?”
“I’m still deciding.”
“You should come. I’ll need someone to talk to,” Roman admitted grudgingly.
“I don’t think you’ll need me to attend to you at the gala, your Highness.”
“I kind of meant, like, as my friend, Logan.”
Logan startled. “I am sorry, your Highness. I wasn’t aware you considered me a friend.”
“Oh, knock it off, please. Logan, you’ve been my friend since this whole arrangement came into place.” Roman waved his hand through the air. “Please, borrow one of my suits. It’s the least I could do, you’ve worked for me for four years.”
Logan was hesitant at first, but he eventually spoke again. “Thank you, your Highness.”
“Roman.”
“My name is Logan.”
“And mine is Roman, and that is what you can call me.”
“Well, as your friend, Princey - “
“Princey?”
“I like it. As your friend, I think you should wear a necktie.”
Roman cocked his head. “Why?”
Logan shrugged. “Serious people wear neckties.”
Roman giggled. “Alright. Well, Logan, you are dismissed for the day. Unless you want to bring me some cookies?”
“You dismissed me before you commanded me. Therefore, I will leave.” Logan bowed and exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
Roman flopped backward onto his featherbed. Despite how annoying his butler - friend, his friend Logan could get, he needed him. He’d had a butler his whole life. HIs mother, Valencia, had seen to that.
Before the tragedy, of course. Now, his chief advisor, Madam (Miss? Madam? Who knows, really) Roxanne Marrs, handled everything. She had suggested the agreement which was just legal enough that it wouldn’t be considered indentured servitude, and Roman found himself his new butler.
Logan Sinclair was quite arguably born to oppose Roman Arellano. Logical where Roman was fanciful, collected where Roman was passionate and just… the opposite of Roman in every way. If Logan hadn’t already met and confirmed his soulmate, Roman would have pondered the possibility that Logan could have possibly been his perfect match - sort of an “as you wish” situation.
Logan, if you hadn’t gathered, had been brought to the castle on a fluke application, and had connected with Roman in such a strange way that Roman immediately advocated for him. Logan, however, had humbly told the castle staff that he couldn’t accept the job since he had to find a way to pay his way through college and working for the modern royal family wouldn’t pay enough and wouldn’t leave him enough time. Roman and Roxanne protested, and eventually the agreement was reached that since Roman was at the time eighteen and needed Logan less than a child would have, the also-eighteen Logan would have time to attend classes when needed, and, since he was doing the royal family a service, they would pay his way through any college he desired. Sometimes Roman forgot Logan and him were the exact same age, and Logan was also eighteen when he was hired. Two months apart. But Logan acted so much more mature. It seemed weird to think that Roman’s caretaker was barely older than him.
Although Roman had ended up with a brand new butler/friend. Maybe.
But that was all in the past. Roman had a gala to attend.
Logan sighed as he shut the door behind him. He liked Roman, he really did, but he was a bit of an egomaniac and catering to an arrogant prince was never his top choice of job.
He could be worse, though.
Logan headed towards the city center, needing to pick up some groceries and possibly some extra things for tonight if Roman was serious about taking him to the gala.
He walked through the door of the Target nearest his college, clutching his list and furiously rubbing at the “be back by 7 o’clock” note on his hand. After he had thoroughly smudged it, he made his way through the aisles of the store, occasionally glancing down to his list. Wandering the store, he took his glasses off to clean them and promptly ran straight into someone.
The other person jumped up quickly and held out his hand. “I’m so sorry!”
Logan shook his head, placing his glasses back on his face before taking the stranger’s hand. “No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was…” he faltered as he noticed the smudged ink on the stranger’s hand. “Going.” He shook his head, trying to regain his composure. “I wasn’t wearing my glasses, I didn’t see you.”
“Well, it’s alright, at least you didn’t make too much of a spectacle of yourself!” The stranger chuckled.
Logan groaned internally. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”
“What’s your name, pal?”
“Logan. Logan Sinclair, that is.” Logan put his hands behind his back. Not many things got to him, but he hadn’t ever been very good at romance. That was an upside to soulmates, only really ever having to flirt and fall in love with one person your entire life.
“I’m Patton Moras. It’s nice to meet you! Though, I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
Logan pushed up his glasses with his right hand. “I come here relatively often.”
“No, I think I might have seen you on T.V. before!”
“Um, well, I may have accidentally been in the shot before. I work for the prince, and they film him sometimes.”
“That’s actually super cool!” Patton smiled brightly. “Did you hurt your hand when you fell?” he asked, glancing at Logan’s arm, which was still behind his back.
“Oh. No.”
Patton looked confused. “Alrighty then. Well, I'll see you later. Unless…”
“Hm?”
“Unless you'd like to grab a cup of coffee with me? I'd like to get to know you a little better.”
“I really have to finish my shopping.”
“Oh.”
“But I have a lot of time until the prince’s gala. I don’t have to be back until seven.” Logan cringed internally. Patton would have seen the ‘be back by seven’ note and could probably put two and two together. “I can meet you at the Starbucks on 86th?”
Logan could have sworn he saw Patton’s bright smile falter for a bit.
Patton shook his head. “Blackberries Coffee and Desert. Graham Avenue. 5:00?”
“Sure. I’ve never heard of that place before. Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”
He winked. “See you later, alligator.”
Patton may be goofy, but he wasn’t an idiot. He had caught a glimpse of the hand Logan had been hiding - it bore a massive ink smudge, so similar to the one that had recently appeared on Patton’s hand.
Patton wanted to scream. And cry. And laugh. All at the same time. That had to have been his soulmate. It had to be. The pretty prince’s assistant who wrote chemical formulas on his arms and wrote simple notes on his left hand every day. Someone had to know.
“Virge!”
There was a slight crackling sound in Patton’s ear.
“Virgil. It’s important.”
The crinkling stopped.
“The paper trick hasn’t worked on me since freshman year. I know you picked up the call. Now, guess what happened to me today!”
“You fell into a manhole,” Virgil said, snarkily, clearly annoyed.
“No! I met my soulmate!”
There was an audible gasp, and judging by Virgil’s previous mood, it was involuntary. “Really?” The tonal shift in his voice was very noticeable. “What’s he like? Is it a he? What’s his name? Did you talk to him?”
“He’s very smart and calm, yes, Logan, kind of. He ran into me at that Target - like, physically ran into me - and we talked a little bit.”
“And..?”
“Oh! We’re going out for coffee at Blackberries!”
“Don’t screw it up.”
“Have some faith.”
“I’m just saying, it’d be much easier to screw it up than you think it is. And this is your soulmate. He’s who you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with. Your perfect match.”
“I was feeling good today, Virgil.”
“Well, now you’re not.”
“Me talking about him… it doesn't make you sad, or anything?”
Patton could feel Virgil scowling. “Why would it do that?”
“No reason, Virge.” Patton backed off.
“I don't mind not having a soulmate. It happens.”
“I'm sorry, Virgil,” he apologized sincerely. “I forget.” Patton glanced down at his watch. “It's four-thirty. I should get walking to Blackberries if I want to meet Logan by 5:00.”
“It's fifteen minutes walking from - “ Virgil’s breath hitched. “Never mind.” He chuckled nervously. “Look who’s forgetting stuff now.”
Patton shook his head, then remembered Virgil couldn't see him. “Don't worry. We're even then, I guess.”
There was silence on Virgil’s side. “Yeah. Even. Well, I’ll catch you later. Bye, Pat.”
“Bye, Virge.”
Patton clicked off the call, sighing. Twenty-five minutes to get there. And since he still had to go around 86th, he needed every minute.
Logan. Think about Logan. Not about Thomas.
Virgil sat down on his couch, blinking back tears. How could he forget? Patton was his best friend. And he forgot his deepest fear (except spiders) and casually disregarded it. Patton must hate Virgil.
He couldn’t tell anyone about it now, though. That was Patton’s secret.
Virgil grabbed his favorite blue pen and started to draw lines up and down his arm, turning them into vines.
But why, though? He knew he didn’t have a soulmate, because they never wrote to him, so why did he keep drawing and writing on his arms?
Why not?
Hope is an ever-present feeling, like it or not, and Virgil had hope because Patton had finally met his perfect match and maybe he could too.
Probably not.
Virgil knew he had been rude to Patton. He was jealous - there was no way to disguise that, he was jealous because for twenty-one years Patton was in the same boat. Twenty-one years of no true love, no perfect match like everybody else.
The only thing that brought him any comfort was that the famous prince hadn’t found his soulmate either. Precious Roman Arellano didn’t have a Mrs. to call his own and the sad thing is it brought Virgil a sick pleasure to know that someone so adored and beloved who could have anyone he wanted was trapped in the same soulmate system that bound Virgil to eternity alone.
Roman Arellano was a special case. He was beautiful, he really was, there was no other way to describe him and his face and body.
Virgil was Not Attracted to Roman - it was a title he claimed as his own despite about fourteen different counterpoints Patton had come up with. Maybe sixteen.
Virgil had met Roman before. Once, when they were fifteen, at a frozen yogurt shop. Roman was wearing a beanie and sunglasses - like anyone wouldn’t recognize his face. Virgil nodded a hello and headed back to his and Patton’s table as the young royalty’s fans swarmed him.
Virgil finished his sketch of the vines on his arm and set his pen down. He needed sleep. Sleep was the best way to forget and start over. Virgil felt like he needed it right now.
Thomas was awake.