Valentine’s Day was a load of crock. It wasn’t even debatable at this point, it was just fact. Virgil had literally sooooo much proof that it was all a capitalist money-making scheme designed for and to propagate heterosexuals, that he could probably write a book. He’d sent that exact text to his brother that morning actually; ‘lol should I write a book bout valentines being FAKE NEWS or wut sorry caps lock shrug.emoji’.
Dante hadn’t replied beyond a few laughing smileys but such was the way of brothers. It was the thought that counted.
(Actually Virgil suspected Dante was secretly enjoying being all lovey-dovey with his new husband for their first Valentine’s as a married couple, the traitor.)
Unfortunately for Virgil, he also found himself in a new relationship of his own on this particular February 14th. It was unfortunate for several reasons; firstly because all of the fancy ass chocolate on display everywhere was calling his name so loud he’d had to turn his headphones up dangerously high when he’d gone to and from classes, avoiding the high street and reassuring himself that it would be cheaper from tomorrow anyway. Secondly because he was feeling kinda lovey-dovey too, over his super awesome and gorgeous and talented boyfriend of four months, and it was pretty hard to resist the lure of the romance of it all. But most importantly thirdly; because Roman Delacroix was the single most romantic person he’d ever met, and Virgil was kinda curious what he’d cook up for the most romantic day of the year. The thirdly was only unfortunate because Roman was very well versed in his disgust for the day by now, and would almost certainly have put serious effort into not being overly romantic for the occasion, which was…
Mildly disappointing.
He sighed and hurried back to his dorm, shaking his had to get rid of the traitorous thinking, but there was still a part of him that made his heart beat a little faster when he got to the door and pushed it open, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Roman had somehow got inside and decorated and was waiting to surprise him with- Nothing. It was just as it always was, with Remy’s bed rumpled and unmade and empty and his own neatly folded and equally as empty. Oh well.
Maybe next-
“Guess who?” A smooth, low voice made him jump, as hands covered his eyes from behind. He relaxed after the initial panic, turning in Roman’s arms to greet him with a soft kiss. “No, that’s not how this works,” his boyfriend protested with a grin and a chuckle, going back for another kiss. “Hey beautiful. Come here often?”
“It’s literally my room, you’re such a dork.” Virgil rolled his eyes but Roman kissed a smile back onto his lips. “Thought you had rehearsal tonight, no?”
Roman scoffed, tossing his head proudly. “And miss my favourite holiday of them all? I know! I know what you’re gonna say, but hear me out?”
Virgil pursed his lips, heart hammering in growing anticipation and hope. “Okay, you have my attention.”
“Great!” Roman beamed. Shit, he was so pretty though? “I know you don’t like all the uh, frou-frou, but how about you and I go hit up the shops before they close and pick us some crazy cosy onesies like I know you’ve been wanting to, and like a buttload of snacks, and then come back here and watch movies all night and cuddle a bit? Sounds good, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and Virgil couldn’t help but snort, smothering his giggles. “That, my dear captivating corvid, looks like it’s going to be a yes. Am I right?”
“You’re such a dork. Yes of course. As long as I can get J-”
“Jack Skellington. I know.”
Virgil melted in his general direction. “I love you.”
“… Gay.”
“Roman!”