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For the first time probably ever, Virgil woke up from a nap, and wasn’t still drowsy or grumpy. The blankets weren’t tangled annoyingly around his legs, the pillow his head rested on was still perfectly cool, and he was laying in an extremely comfortable position. His neck wasn’t stiff, and his limbs were loose, and his lips tasted like peppermint. … Why did his lips taste like peppermint? Virgil licked them again, partially to fix his post-nap cotton mouth, but mostly to figure out why his lips tasted like peppermint. The answer came to him when the blankets beside him shifted.
“Oh,” he whispered, blinking sleepily at the dark hair that appeared suddenly from underneath the sheets. He tugged gently at the fabric until he could see the peaceful face in front of him. Logan was always beautiful, all sharp angles and inquisitive eyes and smirking laughter, but while he slept… Virgil, already hopelessly in love, fell down one more rabbit hole. Logan’s lips were parted slightly as he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. His brows, as opposed to normally being furrowed in thought, were smooth and untroubled. He must’ve been deeply asleep because Virgil could faintly see Logan’s eyes shifting beneath his eyelids.
It was rare that either of them slept this earnestly so Virgil admired it as long as he could. Logan always seemed to know when someone was watching him. It’d roused Logan from many a nap during movie nights, when Patton would stare at the pair of them, quietly cooing over how cute they were. Virgil counted Mississippi seconds in his head as he gazed at his boyfriend. With each number, he added something he liked about Logan to it.
One Mississippi, his wit.
Two Mississippi, his fascination with space.
Three Mississippi, his absolute dependability.
Four Mississippi, his weird ability to always know when he was being watched.
Five Mississippi, his beautiful, brown eyes, foggy with sleep.
“Good morning,” Virgil murmured.
Logan blinked. Once. Twice. A third time.
Six Mississippi, how long it took for him to wake up fully.
Virgil leaned closer and pressed a kiss to Logan’s forehead. Strands of hair tickled his nose as he did so and he smiled against Logan’s skin. Pulling away, Virgil watched as Logan’s consciousness clicked on slowly but surely. The lights took their time humming to life.
Seven Mississippi, the way his nose crinkled when he yawned.
The scent of peppermint toothpaste washed over Virgil. He licked his lips. Right. For all the grief they gave Roman and Patton for their public displays of affection, there was no doubt the pair would get back at them if they knew about all the kissing Logan and Virgil did behind closed doors. They weren’t obnoxious, by any means. Virgil just liked the grounding sensation of Logan’s lips pressed against his skin, okay?
“Cinnamon…”
Eight Mississippi, that every first word after he woke up was nonsensical.
Without fail, Logan managed to say the most ridiculous things when still rousing from slumber. Virgil couldn’t wait to find out what cinnamon meant. In the mean time, he just basked in the way his boyfriend looked while still half asleep. Their nap had been impromptu; Logan was reading a Tolkien novel out loud and Virgil was scrolling through Tumblr while he listened. Virgil had steadily slipped further underneath the covers until he was laying down fully, staring up at Logan with half-lidded eyes, mumbling drowsily about hobbits. Virgil was nearly out when Logan put the book away and took off his glasses. He’d joined Virgil in the cocoon of blankets, brushing his hand through Virgil’s hair, and whispering words of affirmation (one of Virgil’s love languages; Logan preferred it over the term sweet nothings).
“What about cinnamon?” Virgil asked finally, now that Logan looked like he was functioning at roughly sixty percent. Logan’s hand patted around the small space between them until he found Virgil’s; he took it and wove their fingers together. He sighed and it was a happy sort of sound that sent Virgil’s heart cartwheeling.
Nine Mississippi, he never failed to make Virgil feel like this.
“Your mouthwash,” Logan answered lowly. He inched closer, inhaling deeply. “I can taste it still.”
Virgil’s cheeks grew hot, even though he knew the sensation was mutual. “Ditto,” he muttered, gaze roving over Logan’s relaxed face, “except with your peppermint toothpaste.”
Logan chuckled, eyes slipping closed. “What would Roman and Patton say…”
Virgil grinned. “They’d call us hypocrites,” he offered. Tilting his chin up just enough to adopt Roman’s princely attitude, Virgil continued: “You give us such a hard time and here you are! How positively sinful!”
Logan pursed his lips and Virgil snorted at how closely he matched Patton’s signature pout. “Aw, kiddos, why didn’t you invite us into your cuddling?” Logan’s tone pitched higher as he imitated Patton.
Virgil couldn’t help it; he burst into laughter. Snickering into his free hand, he curled up, pulling his knees closer to his chest. “So stupid,” he said between giggles. Logan’s expression softened at the noise. It was rare Virgil let the others hear him like this and Logan treasured every second. He tightened his grip on Virgil’s hand just a bit.
“Have you checked the time yet?” Logan asked, shifting so that he could reach over to retrieve his glasses from the bedside table. Virgil knew moments like this with Logan never did last long; he had too much of a schedule to keep and very rarely was there a slot for napping. Virgil didn’t mind, though; it just meant that when it did happen, it was that much more meaningful. “Thomas has to film Shoutout Sunday and I’d like to make sure Roman is well prepared…”
“Lo,” Virgil said, having not moved an inch, and still far too comfortable to even think about it. “Fifteen more minutes?” He asked and when Logan paused to look at Virgil, halfway to putting his glasses on, he was hit with Virgil’s pleading gaze.
It wasn’t often Virgil used the Puppy Eyes, since Patton had them perfected, but when he did… Logan huffed, depositing his glasses back on the table. “Very well,” he conceded, fluffing his pillow, before laying down. “I suppose just awhile longer won’t do any harm.”
Virgil hummed with delight, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, and pulling him close. “Tell me something interesting,” he requested, burying his face into the soft fabric of Logan’s sweater.
“That’s impossible,” Logan began to argue, “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Virgil tapped his fingers against Logan’s back. It was quiet for a few seconds as Virgil tried to think of something to help narrow down Logan’s very long list of interesting things. “How about… mini golf?”
Logan very unexpectedly responded with a sharp “ha!”
Virgil waited patiently.
“There are areas in Scandinavia and Finland that are so far north, they get dark and stay dark for large portions of the day and year. As such, glow-in-the-dark miniature golf courses are popular in those locations.” Logan sounded very much like he was reciting directly off of a script.
“That’s so cool,” Virgil enthused. He leaned back and peered up at Logan, with stars in his eyes. “I bet it would make for some really neat pictures, too.” Logan smiled fondly at the expression on Virgil’s face and his affinity for documenting experiences through photography. “Do you think Roman could set something up like that in the Fantasy Realm?”
“I don’t see why he’d be opposed.” Logan dropped a kiss onto Virgil’s forehead. “Perhaps we’ll consider it the double date Patton wants us to go on so badly…”
“Lo,” Virgil gasped, feigning shock.
“Hush,” Logan interrupted, gently pressing his lips to Virgil’s. When he began to pull away, Virgil surged forward. He had agreed to fifteen more minutes, after all… Virgil would take every second he could get.
Ten Mississippi, he gave Virgil as much quality time as he needed.