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The crowd before him screams out his name and wave banners proclaiming their love for Roman as he performs with his entire being. The mass of people pulsate with each hit of the drum and shout along to Roman’s choruses. The energy they radiate keeps him moving throughout the entire concert and it fills him up with so much love that he feels like he’s floating. He laughs and he jokes and he dodges the various items thrown onstage: never anything bad, but it’s still awkward when he has to step around a bra.
He’s super taken and super gay, thank you very much.
When the concert winds down, he thanks everyone for coming to see him (even after all these years, it blows him away) and his smile widens at the answering roar. He gives a wave and jogs offstage as the high saps from him and his shoulders drop.
Twenty minutes later, and he’s slumped against the inside of a limousine desperately tapping his screen in an attempt to get FaceTime to work.
A frustrated noise rises in his throat once he hits minute two of staring at the “Connecting…” screen. His chest physically hurts, and he knows it’s all in his head but the pit eating away at his insides says otherwise. He barely has it in him to hold his phone up to his face but as soon as he hears the electronic whooshing sound announcing that he’s connected, he feels like he’s back in front of his fans from the sheer amount of warmth and love that floods his heart.
A tiny Logan squints at the camera, his pixelated face illuminated by the shitty glow of their bedside lamp. If Roman’s brightness was any lower, he wouldn’t be able to see anything at all.
The video keeps pausing and the audio is patchy at best, but he damn near cries from happiness when he hears Logan’s standard “Salutations.” He’s in love with a nerd - sue him.
“Did I wake you up?” he asks, watching Logan sit up in this bed and fumble around for his glasses.
“No, I was just about to go to bed.” Logan’s raspy voice tells him otherwise but Roman doesn’t mind.
“What time is it at home?”
“... Past midnight.”
Roman shakes his head and almost apologises, but Logan cuts him off halfway through. “I don’t mind. I enjoy your company, regardless of the hour of day - or night.”
“I’m like, a thousand miles away.”
“I am aware. Your company is appreciated nonetheless.”
“...I miss you,” Roman says after a stretch of quiet.
He had been on tour for a month, and it was taking its toll. Sure, Logan and Roman were on FaceTime more often than not, but nothing could compare to waking up beside him every morning, as he had for the past four years. It was a month on tour, but it had been so much more than that.
It was a month without Logan bringing him a cup of coffee most mornings. It was a month without having Logan right by his side whenever Roman wanted him to read over his lyrics. It was a month without Logan’s kitchen experiments. It was a month of discretely feeding said experiments to their dog.
It had been a month away from home, but he couldn’t care less about their house.
“Likewise,” Logan replies. He gives Roman a small smile, one that used to be so rare but now Roman sees it all the time, and follows it up with, “It is only one more week.”
“Only,” Roman repeats, close to a whisper.
Logan nods. His eyes flicker downwards and his jaw tightens ever so slightly. Even though it may not seem like it, Roman knows he was missed just as much.
Half an hour later, his driver stops outside the place where he’s being interviewed tonight, and he has to end the call.
He turns his phone off and is met by his darkened reflection in his screen. His eyes are droopy and his hair is a mess, plus he’s still wearing the sweaty clothes from his concert. Nothing that backstage touch-ups won’t fix, though.
With a heavy sigh and an equally heavy heart, he enters the building.
Right before the cameras turn on, he runs his thumb over the small black box he’s had in his pocket for the past 27 days. The smile that spreads over his face makes his face hurt, but he doesn’t drop it as he walks on.
-
“So your tour ends in a week. Are you excited to go home?”
“Absolutely.”
“Roman, you look like that isn’t the only thing you’re looking forward to!”
“There’s someone special waiting for me back in Florida. Home is wherever he is.”