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It hadn’t snowed before Christmas in years, Roman always waking on the morning of to the sight of dying yellow grass and gray skies stretching as far as the eye could see. But of course, there was a goddamn snow storm the night Roman needed clear skies and roads the most.
Then there was the overcrowded mall slowly suffocating him, far more hectic than Roman thought it would have been on Christmas Eve. He was disappointed in himself for the situation at hand, for his perfect gift arriving at a far less than perfect time, but he was also disappointed in all the other shoppers around him; he almost hated them, having never had respect for people that waited until the last minute to do their Christmas shopping because they had not planned ahead. It was almost humbling that he could now be classified as one of them, humbling yet humiliating.
He would never hear the end of it.
A man holding a bottle of perfume and a few pieces of lingerie standing in line in front of him gave him a nod, and Roman bowed his head. Because these people, despite their lack of planning, had not ditched their fiance’s Christmas party in favor of buying him a new gift, leaving their lover to tend to their future mother-in-law and to make sure she didn’t spike the eggnog, by slipping out the goddamn bathroom window like an awkward high school loser when the booze came out at a party.
The pair of wireless headphones seemed heavy in his hands, the weight of his mistake unbearable. He glanced at his watch, biting the tip of his tongue and rising on his tiptoes to peer over heads. He needed to get going, Virgil was sure to notice that he was gone by now.
Wham! rang in his ears as his phone vibrated in his pocket. The man in front of him subconsciously hummed along as Roman fished his phone out and hit accept. The man held the tune despite its sudden termination.
“Hey, baby,” he said, hopeful that he would be able to fabricate a good enough lie to tell him.
“Where the fuck are you?” Virgil hissed, voice low suggesting that he hadn’t been able to find a private place to have this conversation.
“Um . . .” Roman started, looking around and clearing his throat. He parted his lips, deciding to say the first thing that popped into his head, “modeling underwear si I can give you jack-off material pictures for a Christmas present.”
The man in front of him promptly looked away, choking on one of the notes in Last Christmas .
“Roman,” Virgil said, voice strained and clearly not amused. He could hear the anger in his words that Virgil was trying so damn hard to contain. “We’re hosting a party.”
“Indeed we are.”
“And you left me.”
Roman pursed his lips, knowing he would never hear the end of this. “Virge, I-”
“It’s a disaster,” he said, voice raising. A door slammed in the background and Roman took two steps forward in line.
“Christmas tree still up?”
“Barely, our angel hung herself with the Christmas lights. And I don’t blame her, our moms got drunk together.”
Roman visibly winced but remained silent, knowing it took more than just that to get him this worked up. While his fiance was a rather anxious person, he only ever asked for help if it was unbearable and from the way his breaths seemed to be as inconsistent as the moon, Roman knew that the party must have been cursed by the Devil himself.
“Patton had one of our cookies . . . in the ER now because he’s fucking allergic to vanilla. I told you that!” Roman pulled his phone away from his ear, Virgil now shouting. It wasn’t at him though, not really. He was angry and would have been just as angry had Roman been there in person.
But he was feeling alone, and that was Roman’s fault. So he took full responsibility for all of Virgil’s anger.
“The eggnog is gone because of our moms, the food because the dogs got in and wrecked havoc, everyone is trapped because of the storm but trying to get out because the party is ruined, god Ro it’s so bad, and I don’t know where you are and Ro it’s too much. Too much,” he released a shattered breath, face most likely red due to the lack of air in his system. He never breathed much when he ranted and if no one was there to calm him down, he might just pass out from the stress.
He was crying, Roman realized. Or at least about to. The line in front of him had hardly moved and he was still a good ten minutes away from the cash register. So he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before swallowing his pride and stepping out of line.
“I’ll be there soon,” he mumbled, giving the lingerie man a small nod before placing the headphones on a random shelf and walking out of the store empty-handed, “you’re in the bathroom, right? Sitting with your back to the door?”
Roman knew Virgil nodded even if he couldn’t see him, knowing him well enough to understand what his silence implied. His pace quickened.
“Okay. Stay there, okay? I’m in my car right now, I’ll be there soon.”
“Where are you? God, I can’t believe you left-”
“I know, I know, darling,” he said, voice reassuring and calming in an attempt to soothe his lover. “It’s . . . not something I’m proud of.”
“We’re supposed to be a team,” Virgil replied barely over a whisper, Roman pulling out of the mall parking lot and flinching at the sound. He had his radio off, a rare occurrence for him, but Virgil was his priority. Of course he was.
He glanced down at his ring, still not used to its weight present on his finger. “We are,” he replied, flipping his turning signal on and finding himself on the highway. “I’m sorry I left, I shouldn’t have.”
Virgil remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself, and Roman responded by pressing down on his petal more. His body jolted forward as he sped down the road. Speeding was dangerous in the snow, sure, but he needed to get to Virgil as soon as possible.
Death be damned.
The minutes stretched on to infinity, Roman’s phone pressed to his ear as he just listened to Virgil’s abnormal breathing. Their driveway was empty, the guests apparently having managed to get out despite the storm and leaving Virgil to deal with the mess himself. But in his mind, it was Roman’s fault for being the first to leave.
Roman remained on the phone as he cut the engine and closed the garage door. He made sure it was closed all the way before hitting the light and stepping inside.
“I’m here, still in the bathroom?” he asked into his phone, receiving a small hum in reply. A choked hum that resembled that of a dying bird.
But as Roman headed towards the stairs, he halted upon seeing a figure curled up by the fire in his peripheral vision.
“Hey,” he whispered into the phone, Virgil turning and glancing up at him at the sound. Despite being about twenty feet away, Roman could see the redness present in his eyes.
“Hey.”
Roman moved the phone from his ear and ended the call, placing it on the couch before walking over and taking a seat in front of him. He was wrapped in a blanket, an abandoned mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table an arm’s length away.
“Are you okay?”
Virgil shrugged, pulling the blankets tighter around himself. He was hunched over his knees and when Roman lifted a hand to his cheek, Virgil leaned into the touch.
“Is Patton okay?” he then asked, grabbing the phone from the coffee table and dialing Logan’s number. He then put it on speaker, placing the phone between them as his other hand slipped into Virgil’s hair to softly run his fingers through the strands. No less than an hour ago, they had been perfectly placed atop of his head.
But Virgil ran his fingers through his hair when he was stressed, the gel slipping out with every tug and tear he shed. Roman was hardly surprised that it was so knotted and snarled from the hours he spent stressed beyond wit’s end.
“Hey, Lo,” Roman said when the other answered, keeping a bit of distance between himself and Virgil despite his instinctual desire to be close and help him in every way possible. He knew that the other needed it, the space, so he kept his hands to himself as much as possible and only took what the other gave. Like the hand in his hair.
“Roman,” he replied, waiting for the other to continue.
But Virgil surprised him and cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the screen as he said, “How is he? Is he okay? He’s not dead, is he? You would have called us if he was dead, right?”
Roman bit the inside of his cheek, sure that the other was fine but he couldn’t blame Virgil for his concerned. He was far more stressed than he had been in months. The holidays brought that out in people despite how joyous it was intended to be. And with the way the party had gone, Virgil was more than justified in his apprehensions.
“Luckily, he’s fine. He’s a bit tired right now and sleeping, but he will most definitely be over tomorrow. Because he wanted to wait until Christmas day to give you our presents and was going to wait until midnight - although it is beyond me how he planned to manage that without asking either of you if it was alright.”
“Of course it would have been alright, and I’ll be sure to shovel tomorrow morning then,” Roman said in reply, watching as Virgil visibly relaxed. He pulled him into his lap once his shoulders returned to their normal level, Virgil complying and leaning into the other’s touches. He rested his chin on Roman’s shoulder, Roman wrapping one arm around his waist while adjusting the phone so it wouldn’t be smothered by Virgil’s blanket.
“You’re with him right now, right? He’s not alone?” Virgil asked, seeming much more calm in Roman’s embrace. Even if he was slightly upset with his lover, Roman’s touch cured him of all distress he had, vanishing bit by bit with every gentle rotation of his hand on his bare hip.
“Yes, I wouldn’t leave him alone. And you were busy dealing with the - pardon me - disaster of a party, so don’t feel guilty.”
Virgil sank further into his lap, trying to hide his head in Roman’s shoulder. He tightened his grip on him then, knowing it was all he could do.
“Thank you for being with him,” Virgil mumbled, Roman repeating so Logan could hear. They talked for a bit longer, Virgil eventually finding himself smiling before they ended the call after a quick goodbye. Roman then sighed, turning his head to leave a soft kiss against Virgil’s jaw.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled, still rubbing his hip. He took a deep breath, the scent of Virgil’s cologne flooding his nostrils and calming whatever part of him had been worried on his fiance’s behalf. He could feel the other’s heartbeat slow, refusing to let him go even after it returned to its normal rate.
“I know,” Virgil replied, pulling back slightly to look into the other’s eyes, “I just - where the hell were you?”
Roman’s cheeks reddened as he immediately averted his eyes, fingers digging into Virgil’s hip. “I was . . .” he trailed off, finding the words difficult to say.
“Obviously not modeling underwear for me.”
“I can do it now, if that makes up for it.”
“It won’t.”
“I’ll do it anyway.”
“Roman,” Virgil insisted, demanding his eye contact. It took a moment to look up and face him. His face was unreadable, “You forgot to get me a present, didn’t you?”
Roman bit the inside of his cheek, gaze trapped by Virgil’s as he nodded once.
Virgil’s neutral expression fell as he began to howl with laughter.
Roman pushed him off, groaning and watching the other curl up to try and contain himself. Laughter erupted out of him like a volcano destined to erupt years and years beforehand. And Roman’s face reddened, burying his face into his palms while Virgil’s joy continued to jingle in his ears.
“Alright, alright,” he mumbled, feeling a soft touch on his wrists as Virgil pulled his hands away to give him a kiss. It was deeper than Roman expected, not sure what he even expected to begin with. Not something so loving, not after he totally let him down and left him to deal with a lost cause.
The kiss deepened but Roman pulled back, looking at Virgil with confusion present in his eyes. But upon seeing Virgil’s brilliant grin, he didn’t care what exactly it was that brightened his day, only caring that he was happy.
“You’re not . . . mad?”
Virgil nearly giggled, his happiness continuing to flow through him. Roman had never seen him like this, “Mad? No. Disappointed? Maybe, but as long as you can compensate-"
He was teasing him, of course. After all, his favorite saying was "that the best present was being present."
Roman’s lips twitched up into a smirk at the challenge, kissing the corner of Virgil’s mouth and whispering in a voice sinfully seductive, “I think I can do just that, my love.”