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Virgil gets off the bus from work in a terrible mood. They ignored him at work today. Again.
His one job is to pay attention to the safety code and point out risks, but does anyone take him seriously? Of course the fuck not. He’s too young or too anxious or making a big deal out of nothing. So they ignore him, or belittle him, or talk down to him, and he’s fucking tired of it.
He stomps up the stairs of his shit apartment building to his shit apartment that he can barely afford with his shit salary from his shit job.
He gets to floor and hears Patton’s familiar humming behind his door. He flinches involuntarily at the sound. He has to take a deep breath and brace himself to go in. Why is he doing that? Patton is his neighbor, not to mention his boyfriend of two years. He’s the embodiment of sunshine. Why would he possibly be sad to see him?
He shakes his head, trying to clear it, and walks into his apartment. Pat is in his kitchen, laying out dinner
“Hey there, cutie! I made us food. It’s your favorite!”
And it is: macaroni and cheese with just the right blend of cheddar and mozzarella. It smells like cozy childhood evenings.
And that’s just the fucking problem, isn’t it. Patton is such a devoted partner but could he stop treating him like one of his kindergarten students for a day?
“Why are you in my kitchen?” he asks, more harshly than perhaps necessary
“I know work has been tough, kiddo, especially with these late shifts, so I popped over to make sure you ate something?”
“I can manage on my own, Patton, I know how to feed myself” he says with more disdain than is warranted
“I… never doubted you could, kiddo, I’m just trying to help out!”
“It would really help if I could get some time by myself once in a while and not finding you in my place constantly!” with a stronger tone of accusation than is deserved.
“Virge? Are you okay?”
“Did I not just say I’d like to be alone?” with a higher level of venom than has been prompted.
“Oh… okay. I, uh. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”
Virgil expects to feel bad as the door swings shut behind his boyfriend and the smell of mac and cheese disappears, but his frustration just rises. It’s not like he likes having to tell him to leave - why can’t Patton just give him some space occasionally? And that look? That pitying look as he closed the door behind him? So fucking unnecessary. Virgil is a grown man, he’s allowed to be upset and need his own goddamn space. And he’s going to goddamn take that space if he needs it.
He stomps through the kitchen, grabbing cereal and milk with perhaps too much force to put together the dinner of an adult. Or at least, the dinner of a semi-adult who isn’t paid enough.
That night, he sleeps terribly, but from anger, not from the emptiness of his bed.
He leaves early the next day, earlier even than any nearby teachers.
He stays out late, later than any healthy, happy people should stay up.
He does not see Patton at all, not even for a moment.
Patton sees him, though. Or rather, the tail end of his hoodie as the bus doors close behind him.
Patton is left watching the bus speed away and round the corner out of sight, carrying away his boyfriend. The distance stretches with every turn of the wheels.
Two days pass before Patton can’t bear it and tentatively knocks on Virgil’s door. He knots his hands in the sleeves of his cat hoodie as he waits. The hood is down today, the paws flopping instead of on his hands. The minutes tick past as he waits for any sound in the apartment.
Finally, thuds of heavy footsteps. The door opens inward, revealing messy bangs and dark-rimmed eyes hiding in the depths of a dark hood. Virgil stares in silence.
“Can I come in?”
A shrug and a vague gesture, a sad mockery of a welcoming wave. But it’s more than Patton’s seen in two days.
He perches rather than sits on the couch, not able to sit comfortably. The silence stretches as he struggles to begin.
“Virge, I want to apologize for the other day.”
“What for?”
“I… I upset you. And you’d already had such a hard day.”
Virgil sits on a chair across from the couch. They face each other. The last rays of the early-setting sun hit Patton’s face, glinting off his glasses.
“I was upset already,” Virgil responds at last. “You didn’t cause that.”
“But I know I didn’t help, and I think I made it worse, and I’m sorry, sweet one. I didn’t mean to increase your burden.”
Patton hopes he imagined the slight flinch at “sweet one.”
He didn’t.
“Patton, do you know what it was you did that upset me?”
Patton pauses. “I think it was… that I was in your apartment without asking?”
Virgil scowls, and his eyes are colder than Patton has ever seen directed his way. He’s seen this look directed at strangers, at homophobic family members, at exes. Never at him.
“You don’t know what it was. You’re just guessing. Why?”
“I want to make this right, Virge. I love you and can’t bear knowing you’re mad at me.”
“Why can’t it have been my own fault, Pat? What if I was just being an asshole and took it out on you? What if I’m just a thoughtless jerk?”
Patton can feels a grip of sadness wrapping its way around his throat, making it harder to breathe. Tiny pricks of tears are forming at the corner of his eyes. “You’re not, Virgil. I know you’re not. You’re my darling, beloved boyfriend and I know you would never mean to do that.”
“Just wanting something to be true doesn’t make it so,” Virgil spits out. “Your belief alone can’t make me a better person than I am. The other day was my fault, okay? I’d had a bad day and hated everything and everyone and I took it out on you.”
“Oh,” Patton says quietly.
“Why did you assume it was something you did? Why did you immediately dismiss the idea that I was the one who fucked up?”
Patton speaks through the growing lump in his throat, but his voice is raspy from the effort of staving off tears. “I don’t know, Virge.”
“Guess what. I do.”
Patton makes full eye contact, confused. Virgil pushes back his hood and leans forward. He’s closer, but the shrinking distance is no comfort.
“You don’t know why you immediately took the blame because you didn’t. You didn’t think it was your fault- you knew it was mine. You’re just trying to fix it for me. Taking the blame you don’t think you deserve so that I can ‘forgive’ you and we can forget this ever happened.”
“Virgie, no, that’s not true…”
“Then why don’t you know what you did wrong, Pat? I was just angry. No matter what you did I was going to react that way. And I think you know that.”
The tears are leaking out now, coursing down his cheek as he fights sobs. “Maybe, but it wasn’t on purpose…”
“See, I was right, you do know it. Just fucking blame me for it, Pat. I deserve it. You don’t need to protect me from the consequences of my shitty actions.”
The tiny, shuddering sobs almost make Patton’s next comment incomprehensible.
“But I want to.”
Virgil takes a deep breath. He’s almost shuddering too, but not from sadness. No, it’s an edge of anger on the blade of confrontation. All his nervous energy of biting his tongue is being released and the effort wracks his body and loosens his tongue.
“Patton, I don’t want you to. Ever. Why would you want to?”
“…wanna protect you.”
“Why do I need protection?”
“You’re my precious kiddo.”
Virgil stops short, and Patton freezes. Even his tears stop, for now.
Very softly, icily, Virgil asks, “How long have you felt this way?”
“I…”
“For the last month? Year? Two years? Or does this go back all the way to when we met, in college. When we were both shit kids but I was just a bit shittier. It’s been six years since then, Patton. We graduated. We got jobs. We became neighbors by accident in apartments we pay for, individually. Do you really…” he pauses as tears, unnoticed until now, fall down his cheek. “Do you really think I haven’t changed since then?”
Patton’s eyes are locked on the floor, tracing the terrible abstract pattern of the rub. His hands are clasped, shaking with effort. “No… I know you’ve grown, Virgil. I’ve been proud to watch you grow.”
“Not what I want to hear right now, Pat. I’m not one of your students. I’m supposed to be your partner.”
“I’m sorry, I just…”
“Just what?”
Tears flow down Patton’s cheeks again. “I guess I… I don’t really know who you are anymore.”
The response is cold. “No, I guess you don’t.”
“I’m sorry-“
“Don’t- I can’t hear you right now, Patton. I’m gonna need a minute alone to deal with the fact that all this time, I thought we were an adult partnership. I thought you were the one person I could trust to take me seriously. Turns out we’re still just an RA and a snot-nosed freshman who can’t even do laundry without a panic attack.”
“Virge, please-“
“Did I not just say I’d like to be alone?”
The words echo for the second time in three days. This time, venom is tempered. It’s focused, tailored perfectly to the situation and to its target.
Footsteps. A door opens. A door closes. Through the muffled wood, another door, close by and yet farther away than ever.
The distance stretches.