Chapter Text
Being cold sucks. Now, most people chose the latter when it comes to the question, “Do you prefer to be hot or cold?” But then, Virgil had never been most people. Growing up in Florida meant he was used to the heat. He spent his childhood traipsing the woods in the middle of summer.
He was not used to the cold, especially the likes of a New England winter. It was another stark reminder he was not in Kansas anymore--to quote a 1939 film by the name of Wizard of Oz . He missed Florida, humidity and all. If it wasn’t his parents and their impossibly high standards, he’d be attending a local state university right now.
But it was their money funding most of his education, and there was certainly no way he could pay for it on his own without resorting to student loans. Virgil might’ve done a number of probably stupid things in his life, but he wasn’t that stupid. He was lucky enough they’d acquiesced on his chosen degree after he wouldn’t budge. His parents weren’t too fond of the idea of their child being an Arts Major over pursuing a degree in Engineering.
Massachusetts was totally different than the swamplands of Florida. The towns all squashed together, bleeding into each other almost seamlessly. There was so little room to build compared to the more sprawled out Florida. The trees were taller and their fall colors were more brilliant. Even the people were different compared to Floridians.
It made Virgil all the more homesick for the familiarity that was his home state.
That homesick would not subside, and instead it made him miserable and angry. He had no friends. He went to classes all day, and when he wasn’t at classes, he worked. He manically counted down the days until winter break, where he could finally take a quick reprieve from dreary Massachusetts.
He missed his best friend Patton, who was studying at the local community college back home. He missed his dog Zero. Most of all, he missed the sunny, humid weather of Florida. He was tired of having to wear three layers of clothing every time he had to go out. He couldn’t wait until he got off the plane in Florida.
That didn’t happen, of course. In a more fairytale ending, he hopped on a plane and never returned to Massachusetts ever. But the narrative build up to this moment didn’t allow for such happy daydreams of his.
First, it began with a single flurry. Then a whole shitton of them, until there was enough for them to get Virgil’s flight cancelled. A flight that was already cutting it close to Christmas Eve. All subsequent flights were booked, weeks in advance. The earliest he could hope to arrive in Florida was December 27th, two days after Christmas. However, come December 27th he would still be in Massachusetts.
“Your father and I talked, and we think it’s best if you stayed in Massachusetts. Last minute flights are always crazy expensive and besides it doesn’t make sense for you to come up when you’d be already missing Christmas. You understand, don’t you son?”
“Yeah I--” He swallowed, “I understand.”
“I knew you would,” His mother said, and he could picture her shallow smile in his mind’s eye, “Merry Christmas.”
The phone call ended. Virgil stared down at his phone, took a deep breath, and chucked it at his bed. Anger gnawed at his insides. How dare she had the nerve to wish him a Merry Christmas in the same breath as telling him he was unwanted. She hadn’t said that in words, no, but why else would his parents leave him stranded in Massachusetts by himself for the Holidays? Was this their way of dealing with him? Shipping him off halfway across the country where they never had to deal with him again? So he could be out of sight, out of mind?
Virgil had never been good enough for them. Too anxious, too emo, and too--well, the last thing he wanted to think about was high school right now.
More than anything, he was angry at himself. He didn’t fight back, try to protest. He just agreed with her. Because despite everything, he was still a little kid who just wanted to please his parents. It made him want to vomit.
God, what was he going to tell Patton? The two had things planned things for days. Virgil felt sick at the idea of letting Patton down. He could scrounge up enough money by himself for a flight to Florida, but then what? He was certainly not welcomed at his house, and Patton was sure to have relatives over for the holidays. He couldn’t just impose like that. Besides Patton probably had other friends to hang out with. He was always better at making friends than him. With Virgil out of the picture, he would probably be relieved to have time to spend with them and not Virgil, a lousy, terrible friend. Hot tears pricked his eyes as a sob heaved from his throat.
‘Stop crying, you need to grow up. ’ A voice sounding awfully like his father reprimanded him.
But he couldn’t stop, not when the realization was hitting him like a fast moving object with enough velocity to kill him. Tears flowed down his cheeks until there was enough to exhaust him to sleep. Sleep, as it was, was only a brief respite from unforgiving reality. He woke up shivering the next day.
As much as Roman Prince’s personality could rival the sun with its’ intensity, he preferred enduring the cold versus suffering the heat. There was a few reasons. He’d grew up all his life on the Northeast coast. He actually liked snow--the idea of going a whole winter without snow seemed inconceivable to him. What did children do without snowball fights and snowmen to build?
Sure dealing with snow turning into sludge was bothersome. With the cold came a multitude of dismal cloudy days. But Roman was a romanticist, and even in that he could find beauty within it.
Not to mention, Roman burnt terribly in the sun. His Irish blood did not lend well in that department. It was loathsome to admit, but Roman had no tan to speak of. Even after spending years attempting to attain one, it was to no avail. His inevitably sunburned skin would peel away to reveal even whiter skin underneath. All that agony, for no reward!
Being hot was miserable--he meant that in the literal sense. Being aesthetically physically pleasing in the eyes of societal standards was hardly a hardship. He should know, being one of the top ten most beautiful people in the world. Having the sun beat on you until you felt like gingerbread men stuck in an oven? Now that, that was miserable.
In the cold, you could at least survive with layers of clothing on. What do you in the heat? Take off your skin?
He felt much more at ease in the cold, thank you very much.
Still, even with this sentiment, he still enjoyed coming into toasty warm buildings after trudging through the biting cold. That was part of what made the cold worth it. Sure you had your dips into cool refreshing waters and ice cream when it came from taking a reprieve from the heat. But in Roman’s eyes nothing beat drinking hot chocolate and reading a book by the roaring fire after trudging through snow and ice.
That was why he was immensely disappointed when he walked into his apartment to find it was just as freezing as the outside he’d entered from. If not even more so.
Was it supposed to be this cold? Granted both Roman and his roommate had been away from the apartment. There was no need for the heat to be cranked up without them home. Yet, he remembered somewhere in the legal jargon he had to sit through for the lease that there was some requirement for the apartment to remain at a certain temperature. This was certainly not it.
Whatever, that was a problem for another day. Right now, the great and mighty Prince was here on a quest; to find the Christmas gift he’d accidentally left behind. His hometown was only about forty five minutes away--he would’ve returned for it sooner if not the blizzard had struck. His older brother had insisted it was fine.
“Christmas, in the grand scheme of things is only a day. I am sure the gift will just as meaningful a week or two late as it would’ve been Christmas Day.”
It was true. Roman knew that. However, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do in the existential void that was December 26th through New Year’s Eve. He left in the morning, leaving a note to explain his whereabouts. A bit old fashioned, but a simple text had none of the dramatics that a note had.
The front door opened to the messy living room, where there was a bundle of blankets sprawled across the couch. Directly facing the living room was the kitchen’s cutesy breakfast bar. Straight across was a hallway that branched out into two bedrooms. His gloomy roommate occupied the room on the left while the room on the right belonged to Roman.
He marched towards his bedroom, bursting it open with a loud bang.
“The fun has aaaarrived!” He sang out to an invisible audience, “Thank you very much!”
What? He might’ve been alone but he could still quote Disney films all he wanted. With Tarzan on his mind, he started humming Phil Collins.
Roman zeroed in on his closet, letting out a triumphant laugh when he spotted the wrapped gift behind his laundry hamper. Yes! It was right where he’d knew he left it! He had been almost certain he’d spend a whole year ransacking the place to try and find it.
Now all he had to do was walk past the living room, to the front door and make the drive back to his brother’s house. It seemed simple in practice. So simple, he didn’t even have to consciously think about it. He hummed, spring in his step as he carried it out of his room, past the hallway, past the living room couch with the bundle of blankets--the bundle moved .
Roman let out a very, very manly screech as he jumped a few feet back. The gift tumbled down onto the ground, forgotten in his flight of terror.
“‘Sup.” His roommate's head poked out from the cocoon of blankets. His purple hair messy and the dark circles underneath his eyes looked darker than usual. Upon closer inspection, there was no hint of eyeshadow smudged on.
“What are--what are you doing here, a Barrel Full of Frights?” Roman spluttered, his heartbeat still pounding from being startled, “I thought you’d be gone in Florida!”
Roman barely knew anything about his roommate. He wasn’t exactly the talkative type. He was grumpy and irritable, and tended to shoot down any attempts at conversation before they could even begin. But he always paid his rent on time and that was more than what Roman could say about the last roommate.
The guy had been pretty excited about going back to his home state for the holidays, though. He managed to say a full paragraph in Roman’s presence about it. So why was he here, in a freezing apartment and not sunny Florida?
His roommate didn’t respond, his eyes iced over in a daze. Roman’s concern intensified.
“Dude, are you okay? What happened to Florida? Why is it so cold in here?”
His roommate’s eyebrows furrowed, as if having trouble processing his words. Maybe he hadn’t heard Roman? The college sophomore wondered if he should repeat his words when the guy opened his mouth to speak.
He mumbled, “Th-the heater’s out. Landlord s-s-says it won’t be fixed until after New Years.”
That was when Roman realized something; his roommate had been shivering during their whole interaction.
“Until after New Years?!” Roman cried, “Virgil, what are you doing here?”
His roo--Virgil blinked confusedly. His mouth gaped open, but he didn’t say anything. Roman took off a glove and reached forward and felt the other’s forehead. Virgil was stone cold. He frowned.
Grump or not, nobody deserved to be alone for the Holidays. Especially in a below freezing apartment no less. Who knew how long he spent in here? Hell, was it cold enough for Virgil to develop hypothermia? The apartment was cold for Roman, and he was wearing layers.
“That’s it, I’m kidnapping you!” Roman declared, lifting Virgil from the couch and into his arms, blankets and all. Virgil was surprisingly light, which only added to his concerns. Come to think of it, had he ever seen his roommate consume anything other than coffee and the occasional nutrition bar? Although it wasn’t like the two sat down and ate meals together.
Virgil let out a small squeak of alarm as he was hoisted into the air, but made no efforts to fight Roman’s hold.
“Wh-wh-whatareyoudoing?” He asked, his words slurring together.
“Taking you to someplace warm!” Roman said, as he carried him towards the front door.
“Florida?” Virgil asked softly.
Roman stopped. He glanced down at Virgil, who could hardly keep his eyes open. He vaguely recalled hearing on the news that flights had been cancelled in the wake of the blizzard. He hadn’t even thought of how it would’ve probably affected his roommate’s chances of getting home. Still, something about the situation felt off. There was some unspoken hurt etched across the other’s half-asleep face.
“No, no not Florida. It’s my brother’s house. It has heating, unlike Elsa’s ice fortress. You can stay with us until break ends. How does that sound?”
“That s-s-sounds too good to be true.” Virgil yawned, his eyes fluttering shut at last.
“Well it is true.” Roman said, despite knowing Virgil was asleep, “I’ll prove it to you.”
He remained unconscious even as Roman placed him in the passenger seat and placed a seat buckle over him. As he settled in his own seat and turned the ignition on, Roman once again thanked any and all deities to the fact his car had seat warmers.
His hometown was normally a forty-five minute trip. Roman made it in twenty. Going that fast in the winter was foolhardy. Even with the snow plows and salt trucks to clear the road and make it safer to drive on. But Roman wasn’t the most conventionally smartest person. He was known for his quick thinking skills and in this case, it was indisputably quick.
The door to his brother’s house opened before he even reached it, Virgil nestled in his embrace. His brother stood at the other side, a rare smile gracing his features.
“I have to say, Roman, when you said you’d forgotten a Christmas present for me at your apartment, this was not what I was expecting.”
Roman’s cheeks turned bright red. Later, he’d claim it was from the cold. But it was most assuredly from embarrassment upon realizing what this looked like from his brother’s point of view.
“SHIT. I forgot--he isn’t--I mean it’s still in the house--he’s just my roommate!” Roman, in a rare act of being flustered, stammered over his words, “He’s supposed to be in Florida with his family but instead I found him inside our apartment--otherwise known as the homeworld of Jotunn frost giants--he was shivering and I thought he might have hypothermia -”
“Hold on, hypothermia?” Logan interrupted, the amused smile gone from his face.
“Um, maybe?”
“Why didn’t you take him to a hospital if that is the case?”
“I--”
“You panicked, didn’t you?”
“I did not panic, I--” Roman huffed, “Oh, perhaps I panicked a little! Still, I brought him to someplace warm and to the smartest person I know.”
“Yes well--it’s good you have me around, isn’t it?” Logan huffed exasperatedly, “Lay him on the couch, I’ll go grab the thermometer.”
Warmth. The type of warmth that came in basking underneath the evening’s rays. The lazy, gooey feeling that made you want to do just sit and do nothing. Not nothing in a negative sense, but in a more peaceful manner. Where all thoughts ceased and he was just Virgil. He liked being just Virgil. It was a shame his parents didn’t like just Virgil.
Eyes still closed, he sighed and snuggled deeper into his blankets. He’d had the strangest dream last night. It involved his roommate picking him up in a bridal carry and something about going to Florida. He was inclined to blissfully slip back into back into that dream when an anxious thought brought a cold, icy realization to him.
It should not be warm.
He’d woke up Christmas Day with the heater broken. Merry fucking Christmas to him. He didn’t end up contacting the landlord until the day after Christmas. He wasn’t sure if they observed it, but he wanted to be on the safe side. People deserved a chance to spend time with friends and family and not have to worry about things. People that weren’t him.
Of course, the landlord would come back to him with saying that no one would be available until after New Years’. He thought about going out and purchasing a space heater, but going out meant walking in the cold, where he’d have to leave the safety of his blankets. Cold, it was so cold already with blankets wrapped around him. He couldn’t imagine walking in the outside temps. He didn’t even have a car, otherwise he would’ve taken shelter in there.
Unless a repairman had entered the apartment while he was unconscious, it should still be Mount Everest inside the apartment. Oh shit was he experiencing hypothermia? He remembered reading something once during a 2am google search that in the last stage of hypothermia victims felt incredibly warm.
That thought finally incited enough panic for him to finally jolt fully awake and open his eyes. This action caused even further panic, when he discovered he was not in his apartment but...somewhere completely unknown to him.
He was in a living room he’d never seen before. It was still decorated for Christmas; a few figurines were scattered about on the coffee table along with garland complete with a Christmas tree in the corner of the room. To the right of him there was a fireplace with an active fire inside it. It felt incredibly cozy and warm and inviting...but that still didn’t change the fact he had no idea how he ended up here. This had to be some sort of weird dream.
A figure entered from the hallway leading out of the room, and Virgil froze. Some childish part of him hoped if he closed his eyes and remained still long enough they’d go away. But before he could even feign sleep, he locked eyes with them. It was a man, perhaps in his mid to late twenties. He wore glasses, the rims wider and rounder compared to the modern, sleeker designs. The man had on a polo with a dark blue sweater over it and blue jeans. There was something about the guy that reminded Virgil of someone. Who, he couldn’t say.
The two stared at one another, neither seeming fond of being the first to speak. But it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Virgil, which meant that revered task was left to the other.
“Ah, you’re awake,” The stranger awkwardly cleared his throat, “I am certain you are confused as to where you are and--well, I shall fetch Roman for you. He will be able to explain things.”
Then the man disappeared, before Virgil could say a word. He was left on the couch, even further confused.
Roman? Why did that name sound so familiar to his ears? It took Virgil’s foggy brain half a second to remember that was his roommate’s name. But surely that was just a coincidence--
“Greetings, The Nightmare After Christmas!”
It wasn’t. It's him, it was definitely his dumb roommate who insisted on calling Virgil everything but his given name. Roman grinned at him from the same hallway as the other man from before.
“What the hell is this place?” He demanded hoarsely, forgoing all pleasantries and getting right to the point. He glared at Roman, whose grin faltered a bit. He stepped closer, though still keeping his distance.
“My brother’s house. It’s not Florida, but it’s still infinitely warmer than the apartment.”
Virgil’s eyes widened as memories, albeit fuzzy, returned to him. His dream hadn’t been a dream. Roman really just...bridal carried him like that. Virgil had been too drowsy to protest.
“Wait you really meant it?” Virgil asked, sitting up, “about staying with you and…”
“--my brother for the rest of the break?” Roman interrupted, finishing the sentence, “Of course I did.”
“Why?” Virgil croaked, eyebrows furrowing, “I’ve been nothing but a jerk to you.”
Roman laughed, because it’d been true. Part of the reason Virgil had no friends was because he refused to have a reason to actually care about Massachusetts. The other part of it was that Virgil was just shitty at making friends. He considered himself lucky every day that he somehow managed to become friends with Patton.
“To be fair, you weren’t the only jerk. I know I can be…a bit much.”
“A bit?” Virgil snorted, “You tried stealing my Jack Skellington poster the first week.”
“I was not s-stealing it, I was simply admiring it...up close!” Roman protested.
“Sure,” Virgil rolled his eyes, “still, is this some sort of ploy to get the poster? ‘Cause if so you’re out of luck. You can’t have my sick nasty Tim Burton posters.”
“What? No,” Roman snorted, before his expression turned serious, “Virgil, do you realize you were on the verge of hypothermia?”
“W--what?” Virgil asked, taken back, “I mean it crossed my mind...but I thought it was just my dumb anxiety acting up.”
This was shaping up to be one hell of a holiday season. Another series of unfortunate events that was Virgil’s life. Almost getting hypothermia was the topping on the cake after his flight got cancelled and his mom subtly ostracized him. Then there was Patton--god, Patton. He’d been too afraid to answer any of Patton’s texts or calls. He knew Patton didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He knew Patton wouldn’t take it personally. He knew all of that, and yet he hated the thought of disappointing him. Of letting his best friend down. So naturally, he let him down by not responding at all. Anxiety wasn’t very logical at times. Scratch that, it was never logical.
“Logan checked your temperature. It was at 96 Fahrenheit. He sprouted off a bunch of scientific mumbo jumbo but long story short? It was close.” Roman sighed, “Look, I’m not going to force you to stay with us. I’ll even help you find somewhere else to stay if you want. I just think nobody deserves to be alone for the holidays. Especially in a freezing apartment no less!”
“Nobody deserves to be alone for the holidays, huh?” Virgil mused, “Even nobodies like me?”
“Of course,” Roman responded, with such ferocity it spooked Virgil.
He hadn’t even planned on Roman finding out he hadn’t made it to Florida. Roman wasn’t supposed to return to the apartment until the end of break, of course. He would’ve been none the wiser. Virgil didn’t like lying, but well--who wanted to admit they were so much of a disappointment that their family didn’t want them for the holidays?
They were only two strangers who happened to occupy the same apartment. Roman had no reason to be nice to him, to go out of his way and offer Virgil to stay with him and his brother for the Holidays.
Virgil should decline the offer and yet, there’s something about the warm glow of his roommate’s eyes that are so genuine. He wasn’t pitying Virgil or expecting something in return for this act of kindness. He was doing this because he genuinely believed nobody--including Virgil--deserved to be alone for the Holidays. Or at least, they didn’t deserve to get hypothermia. But for once, Virgil was wanting to believe the former rather the latter.
“Are you sure it’s okay? I don’t want to intrude…” Virgil’s voice trailed off.
“It’s just my brother and me--it’s been that way for awhile. I promise you won’t be a bother, if anything we’d be happy for the company. Besides, we always do an annual Disney marathon on New Years’ Eve.”
Disney. That was the one mutual link the two had. They even manage to have semi-friendly debates about the movies from time to time. If semi-friendly meant being a few steps away from ripping each other’s throats, that was. The fact that Roman was trying to bribe him into staying with Disney caused tears to form at the corners of his eyes.
“Weak, weak, weak. ” His mind screamed at him, he ignored it.
“Well, you got me at Disney.” Virgil said, letting out a shaky laugh.
Roman’s face lit up like a penny arcade. He opened his mouth to say something when a faint buzzing noise interrupted his oncoming words. They both looked to see the display of Virgil’s phone on the coffee table. Virgil picked it up, biting his lip at the numerous text notifications coming from one Patton Hart💙.