Work Text:
Virgil Sanders needed things to be a very particular way. All the time. His clothes were folded the same way every time, and if he messed up even the tiniest bit, he would have to refold the whole thing. His dorm was spotless; his bathroom was disinfected every morning. He hadn’t changed his personal style since he was sixteen.
Most of all, he loved routine. On the same day at the same time every week, Virgil would go to the diner on the corner of 7th and Main, sit in the same booth, and order the same thing.
For over a year and a half, Virgil would arrive at Patton’s Diner between 1:55 and 2:05 in the afternoon on Saturday. He would sit in the booth furthest from the door, and exactly five minutes after he arrived, Patton would take his order. He ordered black coffee, pancakes and eggs with a side of turkey bacon. The eggs and bacon had to be on a separate plate to prevent them from touching the pancakes, and everything needed to be made away from the other food. He felt bad every time that he ordered because he knew that he was creating so much work for Patton and the cooks, but he was always reminded of the first time he’d gone to the diner.
He had thought that everything would be fine. Well, Virgil had hoped that things would be fine, but he was desperate for something to eat, and he had already used up his meal tokens for the week. He’d heard that Patton’s had good food for dirt cheap, so he’d gone there. It wasn’t a big deal. He was just eating out.
Except it had been a big deal because when his plate of food was delivered by the bubbly server, he had started sobbing because the eggs were touching the pancakes, and those foods don’t mix, and now they were both ruined, and he’d spent all of four dollars just to waste both his money and the diner’s time because he couldn’t even eat some damn food like a normal person. He was a fuck up with too many standards for such a shitty person and--
“Oh my goodness, kiddo, what’s wrong?” Patton asked, and oh god, Virgil was crying in front of the owner.
“T-Touching,” Virgil said vaguely.
“I’m sorry, hon, but I don’t understand. Can you explain a bit?”
“Th-Th-The eggs,” he stuttered out. “And p-panc-c-cakes.”
“Oh,” Patton said, and Virgil knew that he had fucked up. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you wanted them separate.”
Virgil opened his mouth to speak, but Patton cut him off by saying, “Hey, how ‘bout I take you to the back, and you can tell me exactly how you want your food? My husband has a lot of issues with food, too, and it always helps to work together to make sure everything is okay. Maybe this will help you, too.”
So, despite all odds, Virgil followed the man into the back, and they made a very detailed plan on how to make Virgil’s order for whenever he returned (and an additional plan for if he wanted to order something else--which he wouldn’t because he knew that he liked pancakes, eggs, and sausage, so why would he order something else). After seeing that Virgil liked to sit in the same booth, Patton had even begun to steer people clear right around when Virgil would be coming in. Every time that Virgil walked into Patton’s Diner, he knew exactly what he was getting himself into.
And then it wasn’t.
Virgil had entered the diner at 2:01 on Saturday. He sat down in his booth, and he browsed his phone for five minutes. And then it had been seven minutes with still no Patton. At ten minutes, Virgil had become so anxious that he had focused on folding napkins into little paper boats.
“I apologize for making you wait so long,” a voice to his left suddenly said, making him jump. He looked up and saw a young man that he didn’t recognize with a notepad. “There was a miscommunication in the kitchen that I needed to attend to. How may I help you?”
“Um,” Virgil said very eloquently. “Where is Patton?”
“He came down with the stomach flu yesterday and asked me to take over his shift today so that he could stay home. Well, I requested that he stay home to take care of himself and risk getting any of our customers sick, but that is besides the point.”
“Oh.”
The man nodded his head and brought his pen back to his notepad. “What may I get you? Do you want to start with something to drink?”
How was Virgil supposed to put this politely? “I, um... I don’t--I’m not sure if I want to eat here right now.”
“What? Why? Have I done something to dissuade you from eating in our restaurant?” The man’s expression almost looked hurt.
“No! I, uh--I have really strict... dietary restrictions, so Patton always makes my food special for me.” Virgil noticed that the man’s eyes narrowed, and he hurried his speech up to dig himself out of the monumental hole that he was in. “I mean, like, I’m sure that you’d be totally good at making the meal, but I don’t want to put the work onto you. It’s a really big task, and it always takes Pat forever, so, like, I’ll just buy some instant ramen from Kwik Trip or whatever. I’m sorry for wasting your time--”
Virgil scrambled to stand up and run from the diner, but the man held up a hand, effectively freezing him in place. “You’re the one who can’t have his food touching, correct?”
“Yeah...” Shame crept into his voice despite himself.
“Patton left me with directions for you. I’ve already prepared your meal--that was actually why I was stuck in back for so long. The others were trying to help, but they kept messing things up by accident.” The man smiled, and Virgil felt his heart melt.
“Oh... Thank you, um...?”
“Logan.”
“Virgil.”
Logan gave Virgil a kind handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll retrieve your food right now.”
“Are you studying at the university?”
Virgil glanced up from his environmental science homework to Logan, happy for a distraction from the horrible problems spread in front of him. Logan had started to show up more often when Virgil was visiting; Patton would come to quote-unquote “take his order,” and Logan would bring it to the table. “Yeah. I’m majoring in Psychology and Counseling, but there were a few summer courses I wanted to try. Do you go to school here, too?”
“Ah, no,” Logan said, suddenly looking sheepish. “I flunked out of school first semester.”
Virgil, you’re a fucking idiot.
“Oh my god, I’m so--”
“No, it’s okay. I’m... I think that it’s more important that I’m recovering than working myself to death in school.” Logan placed Virgil’s food down and sat in the booth across from him. Absently, Virgil wondered why he worked on Saturdays now since there were more than enough servers and cooks on shift.
“I don’t know if this is inappropriate for me to ask ‘cause, like, we’re pretty much strangers, but... what happened?”
Logan smiled reassuringly. “It’s alright. I actually went to MIT on a full scholarship in biomedical engineering. It upsets me to no end that I ended up throwing that incredible opportunity away, but the past is in the past, right?
“When I was seventeen, I somehow got it into my head that I was overweight. The thought is completely illogical because I was at the ideal weight for my height at the time. I almost completely cut back on eating to lose weight--I’m certain that you’re familiar with anorexia nervosa--and told myself that what I was doing was best for me.
“Things seemed fine for a while. I was accepted to college and graduated high school with high marks, and I was seemingly crawling towards my ideal weight. In my mind, my life couldn’t have been better.
“But once college hit, I pretty much stopped eating altogether. Without the energy to function properly, my grades started slipping. When my grades started slipping, I began to throw myself into days-long study binges where I neglected food and sleep completely. By the end of the semester, I had worked myself into the ground, and I ended up needing to go to rehab for nearly a year until I was stable enough to return home.”
Logan took a heavy breath, grounding himself for a few moments before he continued. “Patton insisted that I moved in with him and his husband so that I could be nearby and for proximity with a trusted therapist. You know Dr. Emile Picani, don’t you?”
Virgil nodded. “Yeah, he’s one of my professors.”
“He’s been my therapist since I moved here in April. He’s proven to be extremely helpful for my recovery, but I suspect the main reason that Patton wanted me here was so that he could protect me. I’m his little brother, and he worries about me.”
“Patton’s your brother?!” Virgil burst out, clamping his hands over his mouth to control his volume.
“Yes?” Logan cocked his head. “I thought that was obvious.”
Rolling his eyes, Virgil smiled brightly. “Just because you know that you’re brothers doesn’t mean that I know that you’re brothers.”
“I regret befriending you.”
Virgil’s heart fluttered in his chest, but he disregarded it. “Aw, so you do like me!”
With a groan, Logan stood up and began to walk away. “I never said that.”
“Wait, Logan!”
“Yes?” Logan asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re getting better.”
“Patton? Where’s Logan?” Virgil didn’t like how his voice quavered. He told himself that it was simply because his routine of over two months had been broken, not because he missed talking to Logan. All of his nerves were because school had started up again, and he was still getting used to it. That was it.
“Roman took him to the museum today, kiddo. There was a new exhibit about stars added, and Logan...” Patton’s words faltered, and he placed Virgil’s plates down to cover. “Well, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it next week, alright?”
“Yeah, of course. Thanks.” The two smiled at each other, and Patton walked back to the kitchen.
Virgil took a sip of his coffee and tried to drown the icky feeling in his stomach.
“Logan!” Virgil cried as soon as his friend walked into the diner the following Saturday. Logan found himself with his arms full of Virgil, who held him tightly. “Where were you last week? You worried me sick... Please don’t break routine without telling me in advance next time.”
“I apologize. I didn’t realize that I had become a part of your routine, or I would have stopped by before I went to the museum.” Logan’s skin felt cold when Virgil pulled away from the hug, and he followed his friend to their usual booth.
“Dude, of course you’re part of it!” Virgil scoffed. “You’re, like, the most important part.”
Logan felt a bit faint, but he chalked it up to having a difficult few weeks. “That’s very kind of you to say.”
“Shhhh! Stop with the sappy shit and move on to telling me about your museum date with Roman.”
“It was nice,” Logan said, powering through the thoughts that were telling him to shut up, idiot. “Roman wanted to take me out because I... had been relapsing for about two weeks, and he knew that I needed something to help my spirits.” Hot, uncomfortable tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t enjoy feeling weak, and relapses were lapses of time where he was only weak.
A cool hand placed itself over his as he squeezed his eyes closed. “It’s okay for you to be upset right now, Lo. Eating disorders are very difficult beasts to overcome, and you are fighting that battle with courage. Relapses are are a natural part of all recovery.”
Choked laughter forced its way from Logan’s throat. “Who are you, and what have you done with Virgil?” He opened his eyes and caught Virgil’s worried gaze, which quickly shut him up.
“Seriously. It’s okay.”
Logan nodded slowly, moving his hand in Virgil’s to squeeze it. “It’s okay.”
Everything is okay with you.
“Guess who fuckin passed, bitch!” Virgil yelled as he burst into the Sanders’ apartment. Logan was sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, but he jumped up to catch Virgil’s tackle.
“I knew that you would, Virge.” Logan gently set Virgil onto the couch and sat next to him. Their new routine during winter break was for Virgil to come to the Sanders’ apartment every day at five for dinner, and they always watched an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved before the food was done.
“Whatever. I owe it all to you and Picani for helping me trudge through this semester without having nearly as many panic attacks as I would have otherwise.” Virgil sighed, leaning into his best friend’s side. “Speaking of Picani, how was therapy today?”
“It was good. Those ‘affirmations’ that he’s been having me do are really helping.” A happy feeling fluttered in his chest as he pressed back against Virgil. Life felt really good.
Patton and Roman erupted through the door not a second later, making even more of a racket than Virgil had. Logan secretly despised his friend and family for being so unnecessarily loud every single god damn day. He did. He really did.
“How are my favorite boys?” Patton asked as he dropped his bags of groceries on the kitchen table.
“Virgil passed all of his exams, and I have been struggling to keep warm all day.” The body pressed into his side nuzzled closer.
Roman dramatically placed his own bags on the table, draping himself on his husband. “We missed Virgil’s entrance again! At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was able to teleport to and from his dorm.”
“You miss me every day.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should think about planning your schedule three minutes earlier.”
“Um, rude! We feed you, and this is the thanks we get? Sass and endless cuddling with Logan?”
Both Virgil and Logan nodded.
“You two are the worst.”
“Trust me,” Logan said, allowing Virgil to finish.
“We know.”
“Logan, kiddo, can you come here for a second?”
“Just a moment,” Logan called back, gently placing the spring-themed cookies into the fridge to cool. His brother was sitting cross-legged on the desk, holding a picture frame in his hands. “What do you require from me?”
Patton took a deep breath. “What do you like about Virgil?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Patton said. He looked at the ceiling as if to gather his thoughts. “Why did you decide to befriend him? What traits drew you to him?”
“Simple. He’s kind, caring, and intuitive. He is wise beyond his years, yet humble due to his anxiety. Although he likens himself to the bad parts of thunderstorms, I feel as though he doesn’t truly grasp that his presence can be healing and soothing. His emotions can be volatile at times, but he is able to recognize his faults and strive to do better. Overall, Virgil is a good person, and that is why I befriended him.”
“Mmmm. Do you love him?”
Logan cocked his head. He must have misheard Patton. “What?”
“Do you love Virgil?”
“What?” Logan repeated. “Where would you have gotten that idea?”
Patton shook his head, glancing lovingly back at the frame in his hands. “Friends--even best friends--typically don’t go on long tangents about what they like about their friends where they basically wax poetic for a minute.”
“I--What are you insinuating?”
“I think, kiddo,” Patton said, hopping off of his desk to stand in front of his brother, “that you’re in love with Virgil.”
“I don’t--I can’t be in love with Virgil!” Logan protested. Patton gave him a Look, and all of the puzzle pieces clicked into place. “Holy shit, I’m in love with Virgil.”
Outside, one of the workers called, “Regular’s here, Pat!”
“Kiddo, I think it’s time to tell him how you feel.”
Logan vehemently disagreed with that statement. “Absolutely not, Patton. What if he rejects me? Guys tend to stray away from me because--you know.”
A deep frown marred Patton’s usually cheerful face. “You’re scared, and I understand that, but you need to take chances every once in a while. You’ve known Virgil for almost a year. He’d been nothing but supportive of you.” He had that stupid expression that meant that he was going to be all wise. “Those are just cognitive distortions in your brain, honey. You can’t listen to them. You’ve got this.”
“Cognitive distortions,” parroted Logan. “You’ve got this.”
“Go get him, Lo!” Patton cheered, shooing Logan to the front of the diner.
Virgil was sitting at his normal booth, and for the first time since they had met, Logan realized how absolutely stunning he was. While Logan was all sharp angles, Virgil’s features were soft and round. His slight form was obstructed by his giant hoodie, but his face was pulled into a concentrated scowl as he scribbled something in a notebook. A tiny portion of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth.
It took what felt like an eternity for Logan to muster up the courage to sit across from Virgil. Patiently, he waited for Virgil to finish writing. In all actuality, Logan was grateful that he didn’t have to speak for a few moments, so he let his mind wander. His eyes drifted out the window, watching as pedestrians walked past in calming waves.
“Lo? Hey, you there, bud?”
Logan’s attention snapped back to the present. “Yeah, sorry. I zoned out for a second.”
Ever perceptive, Virgil’s face creased with worry. “What’s on your mind?”
You can do this. It’s like a Band-Aid. That’s what Virgil always says.
“It has come to my attention that I...”
No. He couldn’t do it. Virgil was going to hate him forever, and--
“Hey now, star-shine.” Virgil set his hand next to Logan’s so that they were only millimeters apart. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Logan moved his hand at a snail’s pace, wrapping it around Virgil’s as lightly as possible. It would be okay. He could do this. “Virgil, I harbor romantic feelings toward you.”
“Oh,” Virgil breathed, and for a fraction of a second, Logan thought that he had messed up, but Virgil’s tone turned to loving awe. “Oh, Logan. That is the stupidest way to say that.”
And Logan had been right all along. “If you are going to reject me, would it be impossible to be kind--”
“Lo, no, I love it. I love you, I just hadn’t realized it until you said it in that ridiculous, scholarly way of yours.”
It was Logan’s turn to say, “Oh.” Neither of them seemed very good at communicating right now.
A very doofy smile spread across Virgil’s face, and he laced their fingers together for real. “We both know that I hate breaking routine, but... I think that it’s time to make a new one. Saturdays at two pm are for dates at the diner. How does that sound?”
“I think that it’s the best idea that you’ve ever had.”