Work Text:
1974
Roman could still remember the day his mother took him to his psychiatrist to find out what was wrong with him. He remembered the bland white walls of the man's office and the rhythmic ticking of the clock as the seconds blurred. He could recall every test, examination, and analysis that man put him through while his dear mother waited worriedly on the other side of the door.
The memory of the man's troubled, almost disgusted face as he called his mother back into the room was forever burned into the back of his mind.
"Well," he began, turning to Roman ", you appear to have a very high feminine quotient." His mother's hand tightened around his while Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"I could've told you that without taking your tests!" he scoffed, laughing softly to himself before his mother smacked the back of his head lightly. The doctor sighed, rubbing a wrinkled hand over his balding head.
"I'm afraid your son may be a homosexual." Roman's mother gasped beside him, sounding horrified and panicked. He knew of how lowly his mother thought of homosexuals; that they were of the most vulgar kind, the absolute worst of the worst and that their sins were just one step above murderers.
"W-What are we going to do?" The doctor sighed and handed her a small slip of paper.
"I'm prescribing him a drug called Thorazine," Roman glanced to the side as his mother's eyes skimmed over the writing on the paper. "It's an anti-psychotic drug. You see, homosexuality, it's a mental disorder, that's all!" He gave Roman's mother a reassuring look. "I can promise you that with this, we can cure your son of any homosexual thoughts and actions. And, of course, we'll all be praying for his wellbeing."
Roman's mother nodded, giving the doctor a relieved look while Roman gave him a disbelieving one. How could a pill change who he was? His mother shook hands with the doctor, thanking him over and over while the man smiled.
Six months after his meeting with the psychiatrist, Roman was sent on a Mormon mission.
Roman knew what was expected of him as a missionary. He was there, not to visit, but to bring new people into the church, nothing else. This was going to be his job for the next two years, and while Roman should've been excited about this mission along with his companion, a bubbly man named Patton, he couldn't shake off the overwhelming sadness that clung to his heart, making him feel sluggish and tired all the time.
Spring air brushed his face as Roman stepped off the boat, loading him and his partner onto the docks of Pescara, a small Italian city that had yet to be touched by Mormons situated right next to the ocean. The place where Roman would be serving for who knows how long until he was called away to protestantize in another town.
"C'mon, Roman! Aren't you excited!" called Patton, breathing in the fresh air as he raced along the port.
"Uh, yeah, Pat," Roman mumbled, grabbing his bags and lugging them after Patton. He flashed Roman a wide grin before trudging along the harbour towards the pavement.
"We technically don't need to start until tomorrow, so that means we can explore for today! It's pretty early right now, so we should have lots of time to see as much as we can!" he continued to babble loudly and eventually, Roman just tuned him out, not having the energy to keep up with the other man's conversation.
Their first day in Italy was definitely a hectic one, with Patton dragging both Roman and their luggage to every location they could get to before crashing into the apartment that was being used as their living quarters. With Patton now snoring softly in the bed beside him, Roman was finally left alone to his thoughts.
Everything felt too loud, too confusing for his mind to understand making him feel restless and anxious. Crawling over to the small window as quietly as he could as to not wake Patton, he peered through the blinds overlooking a wide road, empty if not for the few prostitutes milling about. Roman watched as the women were picked up and dropped off through the night, giving him something to focus on other than his whirling mind.
They felt so real, so tangible beyond the pane of glass that separated his world from theirs, looking more real and more alive than Roman had felt in months. How he longed to be as real and free as they were. Watching the prostitutes on that street became something of a routine to Roman as the days went on, giving him something to do while he laid wide awake on his bed, unable to find sleep despite how tired he felt.
In the mornings, he would get up, take his medication, dress in his uniform, and meet Patton for that days work, smiling as best as he could for the camera that Patton had in his hands. It was a simple, rhythmic schedule that kept Roman from losing his sanity as the days in Pescara turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months. Before Roman even knew it, it was already summer, a full season of serving in Italy that he could hardly recall. He felt like a zombie; as if his mind and body were no longer his own and were instead controlled by a stranger that Roman could just barely recognize as himself.
Laying in bed, Roman closed his eyes, savouring the last few minutes of morning twilight before watery dawn light shone through the window, bathing the room in a soft, white glow. Opening his tired hazel eyes, Ro
man pushed himself out of bed, squishing down the nervousness in his gut as he pulled on his white shirt and adjusted his tie.
It was Sunday; otherwise known as meeting day, and Patton had informed him a few days prior that several college students would be joining them. While Roman should've been excited about the prospect of meeting new people, he couldn't brush off the uncharacteristic anxiousness pooling in his gut and making him feel dizzy. Splashing water in his face, he glared at his reflection in the mirror.
"You'll be fine. Patton's with you, you'll be with people you know and you'll be fine" he whispered, ignoring the shakiness in his voice as he shut off the tap and exited the room.
The two missionaries made it to the building where the meeting was being held just in time to see a few others finishing the hanging of a banner, the words 'Mormon Meeting' written in Italian in bold, blue letters.
"Come on, Ro. It'll be fun to meet a few locals our age, right!"
"Yeah, Patton," he responded weakly, taking a seat in a wobbly chair beside Patton. He watched as a rather large group of people began filing into the room, introducing themselves to a few of the others as they entered. It was rather overwhelming, having so many people in a cramped room, but Roman could feel none of it; none of the angry thoughts in his mind or the suffocating feelings of guilt. For once, everything was silent.
Sitting just across from him was the most beautiful man Roman had ever seen, with longish wavy hair that fell just over his eyes and an easy smile on his lips despite the tired shadows on his face. Roman found it hard not to stare at the other man, but Patton's incessant nudging at his side pulled his attention back to the meeting.
Roman struggled to pay attention throughout the duration of the meeting, finding his gaze wandering to the other man's direction, meeting his eyes once before looking away, almost afraid that he would become trapped in his grey eyes.
The meeting was unbearably long yet exceedingly short at the same time. Light piano music played in the background as guests and missionaries alike stood, wandering amongst themselves and speaking about the thoughts shared during the talk. Roman observed the others from his chair, unwilling to get up, opting instead to just listen to the music and let his mind float away...
"Um, excuse me?" The voice if an unknown man drifted through his ear, startling Roman from his thoughts. Standing in front of him was the man sitting across from him during the meeting; the man who he stared at for a good portion of said meeting.
"Oh! H-Hello," he stuttered, feeling his face heat up. Was he there to confront Roman about his staring? He must've looked like such a creep.
"Do you mind if I sit here? My name's Virgil, by the way." Roman nodded stupidly as the stunning man, Virgil, sat beside him. "This is a rather odd choice of music, don't you think," asked Virgil, the slight accent to his voice making Roman's heart flutter.
"Why do you say that?" Roman silently celebrated when his voice didn't shake.
"It's the main song from a movie, Death in Venice. Have you heard of it?" Roman shook his head. "It tells the story of an older man that falls in love with a young boy in Venice."
"That's quite a beautiful story." Virgil chuckled softly beside Roman, giving him a small smile. The two ended up speaking about trivial things for the remainder of their time together, and Roman cherished every second spent with the fascinating man. Roman learned that he was a communist, strong and incessant in his beliefs, but with a soft, almost bashful side to him that made Roman's insides flutter and his cheeks warm. Sooner than Roman would've liked, he was being beckoned away to be sent back to his living quarters. He didn't want to leave. This was the first time in a long time since he felt genuinely happy.
"I never did ask you for your name," Virgil murmured, his voice just barely higher than a whisper.
"Roman," he choked. "My name's Roman."
"Well, Roman," he pressed a swift, feather-light kiss to the back of his hand ", I hope to see you again."
Whenever Virgil was with him, there was a sense of tranquillity and safety that pulled Roman back into the light and away from the darkness and shame that he so often felt. He felt weightless with Virgil; as if the other man managed to remove all the burden on his shoulders and replace it with warmth and love. A part of him felt as if loving Virgil was wrong, his mother's words reminding him that this kind of relationship would drag him to hell, but he knew in his heart that this was what he wanted. The only problem was his companions.
One of the most basic rules about these missions was that you were supposed to be with a companion all day, every day for your two-year mission. With five others living in the same apartment with him, one of them was bound to notice if he was gone or if Virgil was there for questionable periods of time. They wouldn't even be able to be with each other in the same room without another companion being there. The two of them needed an excuse to be together.
And so, whenever they had the chance to be alone, just the two of them, they would argue. As loudly and as often as they could, mainly about Communism versus Mormonism.
"You just need to listen to me!"
"Listen to yo-listen to you! What do you think I've been doing!" Virgil yelled, a glint of laughter lighting his eyes and making Roman's chest feel warm.
"Sure, you're listening, but you're not listening listening!"
"What do you expect me to do, Roman! I'm just saying that I don't agree with you."
"Alright, alright," sighed Patton, standing from his bed and gently pushing the two feuding men away from each other. "Why don't you two step out to...blow off some steam, yeah?"
"Patton," groaned one of their companions. "Stop trying to be nice to them. Both of you, get out." Virgil raised his hands in defeat, cursing in Italian under his breath while Roman grabbed his jacket and headed to the door.
"Fine. Anyways, as I was saying," Roman continued pushing Virgil out the door before he could burst out laughing. "You said that communism was just better. How is that a good argument." They two continued to yell at each other until they were a block away from the apartment. From there, they were all smiles and laughter.
"You yell really loudly," laughed Roman, feeling light and happy when Virgil grinned.
"So do you. Was my English okay? Do I sound...bad?"
Roman smiled, intertwining his hand with Virgil's smaller one. "I think you sound beautiful." Laughing, the two made their way around the city; Virgil leading them along the street, weaving their way through alleyways and racing along stone-paved roads, giggling and shouting as they went.
They eventually made their way to a small bench at the crest of an empty road, watching the sun sink below the ocean, casting dancing lights over the rippling waves. Roman looked down to their hands, fingers locked tightly together as the two spoke about random things; Roman's life back in Utah, Virgil's schooling. Roman vividly remembered everything about that night; the flickering light from the lamp a few metres away, the cool summer air that blew across his face.
The softness of Virgil's lips when he kissed him and the taste of cigarettes on his tongue. The feeling of all his fears and worries drifting away as his thoughts became solely focused on Virgil, wondering where he'd been all his life.
In a kiss, Roman finally knew who he was.
Both Roman and Virgil were acutely aware of how wrong their whole relationship was, but neither was willing to put out the spark that burned between them. Roman didn't want to walk away from who they were together, and Virgil wouldn't allow him to leave. So he stayed.
They were together all the time on the minuscule off days that Roman had, Virgil was always by his side, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a content gleam in his eye.
Somedays they would sit by the pier just talking; Virgil making fun of his butchered Italian with Roman shutting him up with a kiss. Other days they would wander around the city, Virgil's hand in Roman's, stuffed in the pocket of his coat. On those days, Roman would lead them about, sometimes pulling Virgil behind a closed door to give him a kiss.
It was the lightest and happiest that Roman had felt in years. Being with the strange, communist man that should've felt so out of place in Roman's life made him feel complete and whole. Virgil made him feel like himself again, no longer depressed and feeling free to smile and laugh and love who he wanted to love.
"Hey Roman?" called Patton, bringing Roman out of his thoughts.
"Hm?"
"You're looking a lot better than before!"
Roman blinked as he processed what Patton said. "What do you mean?"
"I dunno. You look less tired and you have more energy. You're smiling more, too!"
"I suppose," smiled Roman leaning back onto his bed.
"That means those pills are finally working, huh? I'm happy for you Ro!" he opened his mouth to say more but Roman couldn't hear what Patton was saying.
The pills. Was that truly why he felt this way? Not because Virgil was at his side, but a pill that he took that would regulate his feelings? Roman couldn't, no, wouldn't believe that. The medication he was taking only made him feel worse, Roman was almost sure of it. He needed to get rid of them.
Now, standing at the edge of a secluded pier with Virgil in one hand and his orange bottle in the other, Roman looked down to the calm waters below.
"You can do this," murmured Virgil, squeezing Roman's hand reassuringly.
"I know," Roman easily opened the bottle and dumped the rest of the Thorazine into the ocean, relishing the sense of pride that welled inside him as he watched the chalky grey tablets sink under the waves until they disappeared from view.
"I do believe I've fallen in love with this place, Patton," Roman sighed, jumping onto his bed and pulling off his shoes. He had just come back from spending time with Virgil and the hazy feeling of elation and endearment had yet to leave his system. "I don't think I ever want to leave."
"Roman," there was a hint of hesitation in Patton's voice cut through the drunken fog in Roman's mind. "I'm glad you like it here but...you know we aren't staying here forever."
Roman felt an odd ache at the pit of his stomach as he thought about leaving Virgil. He couldn't fathom being without him. He didn't want to think about that. "Well, of course I know we won't be staying forever, but I'm glad that we'll be staying for another few months, y'know?"
"Oh, kiddo," the sadness in Patton's voice made Roman sit up, fully sobered and dreading Patton's next words. "No one told you?"
"Told me what?"
"We're transferring to Sardinia. We leave next week." Roman felt his blood freeze in his veins. All senses of calm and security vanished with four simple words while Roman's whole world seemingly crumbled around him.
That overwhelming sadness that once weighed down on his shoulders seemed to come back in full-force, crushing his heart and his hopes of love into a million pieces. He felt like crying, screaming about the unfairness of everything, but at the same time, he felt nothing.
"Virgil."
"What is it, my principe?"
Roman sighed, rubbing tired eyes as he struggled to get the words out. "We need to talk."
"What is it?" he asked, worriedly taking Roman's free hand.
"I," Roman cleared his throat, just barely suppressing a sob. "I'm transferring to Sardinia. I'm leaving in six days."
Virgil blinked in disbelief, trying to comprehend what Roman had said. "I don't understand. What's happening?"
"I'm leaving and I'm not coming back. We're being sent somewhere else," Roman whispered, feeling a tear spilling over his cheek.
"Why can't you stay here?" asked Virgil, the frantic look in his eyes betraying the calm of his voice.
"I can't, Virgil. No matter how much I want to, I just can't," taking in a shaky breath, he wiped his eyes and looked to Virgil, eyes watery and confused. "I didn't come here to say goodbye. Not yet. It's a long transfer, so would you like to come along? To help carry my luggage,"
After a few seconds, he nodded. "Anything for you, my principe."
Their next few days in Pescara were absolutely dreadful. The fact that Roman was really, truly leaving was finally sinking in, leading to sleepless nights for both men. Virgil became quiet and distant and was barely able to look Roman in the eye.
He's just grieving Roman thought. Grieving for a relationship that would end within the next two weeks.
Roman was praying that the smoke from the train station was enough to mask the redness of his eyes and the tired, gaunt look on his face. Virgil looked no better than Roman, but unlike him, he was making no effort to conceal the misery and despair he was feeling.
"Come on, guys! Smile! It's our last day is Pescara and I want to get a good picture!" called Patton, aiming his movie camera at the small group of missionaries. They were boarding a train headed to Rome and then to Civitavecchia where they would ride a ferry to the island of Sardinia. It was a two-day trip, but it wasn't long enough in Roman's eyes.
Feigning a smile, Roman boarded the train, waving and yelling goodbyes as the train pulled out of the station. As Virgil pulled him away from the window and towards a private compartment, Roman allowed the smile to slip off his face, replacing it with a grim expression. Once the door was locked and the shutters pulled down, Roman cracked; sobbing and crying hysterically, letting out all the bottled up emotions he'd been storing within him for the last week.
He felt as if his insides were coming out, making him feel sick and weak. As if he was dying. The relationship that he and Virgil had created was coming undone before his very eyes.
Roman just wanted to stay so badly. He wanted to hold on to the time that he'd spent with Virgil and relive every moment, every precious memory they'd created together. How could they be so in love, but not be together?
The feeling of warm lips on his anchored him ever so slightly, making him open his teary eyes to look at Virgil's; just as red and watery as his. He pulled Roman in for another kiss as tears poured down his cheeks and stifling a sob from escaping Roman's mouth.
"Roman," he cried. "Roman, Roman, Roman," they sat together, crying and sobbing and kissing the whole way to Civitavecchia, both not knowing how they would let each other go.
Wiping his eyes and taking in a shuddering breath, Roman calmed himself enough to re-open the shutters and pull his luggage out from beneath his seat. Virgil looked absolutely lifeless on his seat, eyes half-lidded and cloudy as one last tear rolled down his face, dripping onto his sweater.
"Come on, love," he gently wiped away the trail of tears on his face. "We've stopped."
"I don't want you to go," Virgil whispered, gripping Roman's wrist and giving him a desperate look. "I don't think I can let you go." Roman didn't say anything, unable to find the words he needed to reassure him. Instead, he pulled the shorter man out of his seat, pressed a kiss to his temple and lead them out of the compartment to the station.
"Roman! Over here!" Patton waved to them from two further away, gathered with their other companions. "I'm pretty sure we missed the boat," said Patton sheepishly, giving Roman an apologetic smile ", but, now we have a whole day to spend in Civitavecchia."
Virgil pulled Roman along with him as they explored the busy streets of the seaside town, looking determined to have a good time with Roman before their time was up. Together, they wove in and out of small shops and stands stationed along the road, peering through the windows of bakeries with sweet smelling pastries that neither could afford.
Now, standing ankle deep in the waters of the Mediterranean, Roman closed his eyes to remember everything before him; the boats sailing miles from shore, the coldness of the water as it lapped over his toes. Virgil, standing beside him, dark hair whipping about as the ocean breeze blew across their faces and most importantly, the first smile he'd seen on Virgil's face in days.
Roman half-wondered if everything around him was just a dream; an illusion fabricated by his avid imagination to escape the oncoming heartbreak that would shake him to his core. Roman shook his head, unwilling to listen to the lies his mind continued to feed him and turned his attention to Virgil.
Smiling fondly, Roman pulled the shorter man closer to him, shoulder's touching and arms linked together. He felt a comforting hand caress his cheek and Roman leaned into the other man's touch and looked to Virgil with lidded eyes. He felt as if everything was melting away; the breeze that shook the trees and the wind chimes ringing in the distance seemed to evaporate into thin air. Noise from the horsedrawn carriages and cars zipping along the road seemed to fade away, leaving Virgil as the only thing he could feel.
And with a soft press of lips against his, everything stopped.
Everything was silent.
Roman sighed as he leaned over the railing of the ferry, feeling the last bits of orange sunlight touch his face. He felt Virgil rest his head against his shoulder and wrap an arm around his torso, not having to worry about being caught in the more secluded area of the ship. A part of him felt as if he should've been more emotional, standing at the back of the boat while watching the mainland drift further and further out of his line of sight.
But it was almost impossible for Roman not to smile at that moment. He couldn't help but hum along to the cheery music playing in the background and tapping his foot to the beat of the song. Grabbing Virgil's hand, he pulled the shorter man away from the edge and closer to his chest.
"What are you doing, my principe?" he giggled, pressing his cheek into Roman's shoulder to suppress his laughter.
"Dance with me."
"Seriously? I don't dance."
"Come on," Roman murmured, brushing a lock of hair away from Virgil's bright red face. "For me?"
Virgil sighed loudly but gave in, allowing Roman to take his hand and pull him onto a gentle sway following the beat. Neither bothered to pull in for a kiss; both were comfortable simply by each others presence. They stayed together until the sun finally sank under the sea, chests pressed together and holding onto each other as if one of them would disintegrate in their arms.
"I'm tired," Virgil whispered, caressing Roman's cheek in an oh so familiar action that made Roman's face flush and his eyes water. "Can we...go to bed?" Roman felt his heart jump at Virgil's words. Though he was almost sure that Virgil didn't understand the implications of his words, but it still sent a wave of heat down his spine. Sex was never an option between the two men; with Roman's companions constantly with them and their private time limited to being together in public, it was never a possibility, but Roman never had a problem with it and was instead content with just spending time with him.
"A-Alright," he stuttered, blindly following Virgil as he led them to their tiny shared cabin.
"I'm going to shower first."
"What if I want to shower first?"
"Too bad."
Roman chuckled softly as Virgil smirked at him from the doorway before sliding the divider shut. Letting out a nervous breath, Roman stripped out of his uniform into his undergarments and plopped onto the thin mattress. Folding his hands together, he started to pray.
"Oh Lord God," he whispered, pressing his eyes shut and bringing his forehead to his knuckles. "I'm so, so tired of praying that you would take away these feelings that have manifested within me. I've asked you to take away these urges time and time again, and yet haven't and I'm sure you made no mistakes when you created me. So I'm going to do what I need to do. You can punish me all you want, send me to hell, condemn me for the rest of my life, I don't care. I will do what I want to do, and that is to be with that man for as long as I can," he blinked his eyes open as his voice cracked, quickly wiping at his watery eyes and unfolding his hands, flexing his bone-white knuckles and his stiff joints.
The creaking of the divider brought his attention away from his thoughts and back to Virgil, and the sight took his breath away. The harsh brightness from the bathroom seemed to soften to a delicate glow, framing Virgil's body in a halo of light. In nothing but a loose towel, Virgil flicked off the lights and padded towards him. He looked angelic in the pale moonlight streaming through the half-opened blinds. It was as if God himself had come down from heaven to forgive him.
In a quick series of movements, Roman found himself lying on the mattress with Virgil straddling his hips, towel now laying in a rumpled heap on the floor.
"Is this alright, Roman," he whispered, leaning down to look Roman in the eye.
"As long as you're here, everything is alright."
In the early hours of dawn, the boat finally docked onto an old and quiet port with few boats and even fewer people. Roman's eyes travelled along the dock to a dirt trail, leading them up the hill to the train station that would take him and his companions to their destination. Grabbing his bags, Roman and Virgil set out onto that dirt path in silence, Roman ignoring the growing pit in his stomach as the stone building drew ever closer.
They reached the train station as colour began to bleed into the sky, dying it a cloudless shade of blue and lavender. The meadow overlooking the station was filled with bright yellow flowers, looking far too cheerful for Roman's liking. Patton and the others boarded the train first, wanting to sit down after the long trek up the hill, leaving Roman and Virgil alone for the last time.
The two just stood there, touching each other's cheeks and holding each other, Virgil keeping a tight grip on Roman's body, not letting him pull away from him.
"Stay here!" he begged, hysterical tears dripping down his blotchy red face. "Stay here and be with me! We can live happily here, together! We'll never have to be apart again! Please, my principe?"
"I can't," Roman sobbed. "It's impossible."
"Why! I don't understand." Roman was at a loss for words. He couldn't find the way to explain to his lover that he couldn't just abandon the church, even if they found happiness together.
"I just can't, Virgil," he opened his eyes when he felt Virgil let go, feeling his heart shatter into a million pieces when he saw the disappointment and hurt on Virgil's face.
"If that is what you really want," he whispered. Grabbing Roman's hand, he pressed a long kiss to the back of his hand before letting go and backing away. "I love you, Roman."
"I love you too," he choked back a sob as Virgil turned around, lit a cigarette and began walking back down the road, watching his figure get smaller and smaller until he disappeared completely from view. A part of him wanted to run after him and stay, just like he said, but the sensible part of him forced his body to turn back to the train and not look back.
Roman knew in his heart that, while a part of him would always regret not staying with the stunning Italian man that stole his heart, it was an experience that he would never forget. An experience that opened his eyes and cleared the mist in mind and showed Roman who he truly was.