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“Princey, I swear to god, I will prohibit your breathing if you don’t stop sighing at the clock.”
Roman, who had been leaning his cheek against his arm atop the cashier counter, shoots a piercing glare at his companion seated on the floor. Virgil pretends not to notice, playing instead with his Nintendo Switch under the table.
“Can time go any slower?” Roman grumbles, flicking away the dirt from his sleeve. On any other day, he doesn’t mind his shifts at the local grocery store with the Emo Nightmare himself, dressed in a macaroni-colored smock and a plastic name tag with his curly handwriting and earning a rather generous $10 per hour, but that particular day in the middle of Spring Break was also the day that the light of his life was finally coming home from his family vacation in the wide expanse of wilderness that is New Hampshire, and Roman just couldn’t wait any longer for sweet, sweet freedom.
“We’ve got 30 minutes left, geez,” Virgil says, rolling his eyes.
“Literally no one’s coming in. Can’t we just lock up and leave now?”
Virgil snorts. “Yeah, no, I’m not gonna get my ass fired just because you can’t keep it in your pants.”
Roman kicks Virgil’s side, earning a pained yelp from him. He looks down at his watch one more time before muttering, “Ugh, I’m going to vomit.”
“I thought you ran through your plan like 20 times this past week.”
“I did.”
“So what’s got your panties in a twist?”
Roman scrunches his nose in disgust. “You spend too much time with Remus.”
Virgil merely shrugs, then makes a move to stand up. He sets his Switch down on the side of the table behind the candy stand and leans his weight on the ledge. “Anyway...?”
“Well...” Roman bites his lip. “Well, what if something goes wrong? Like we’re walking on the sidewalk and suddenly a laundromat explodes and ruins our night?”
Virgil stares at Roman with a blank expression. “Really? A laundromat?”
“Or something like that!”
“Okay, jesus. And they call me panicky.” Virgil scratches his cheek. “You’re a drama geek, aren’t you? You’re supposed to, like, be good at improvising.”
Roman buries his face on the palms of his hands. Right at that moment, the bell above the door rings and a loud “What’s up bitches?!” resonates through the store.
“Dude, what did we tell you about your dramatic entrances?” Virgil remarks with exasperation.
“Uhh, make it sexier?” Remus says, cackling. “I don’t know, I was never one to listen to anything that stifles my self-expression.”
Without looking up, Roman mutters on his hands, “Great, my horrible night is starting off perfectly.”
“Horrible night? My, my, I’m wounded.”
Roman suddenly pushes himself off his stool, back straightened and face aghast. He stares at Janus, arms folded over his chest and lips formed into a smirk, and feels his whole chest drum rapidly. Shaking himself out of his daze, he fixes his hair and flashes his dazzling smile. “Janus! I thought we’d be meeting much later.”
“I got back early.” Janus leans against the counter, poking the name tag with scrutiny. “Only to hear you moaning about tonight. Pity, I was looking forward to it.”
“I didn’t mean—” Roman breathes in sharply and slowly exhales as he regains his composure. He takes Janus’ hand and leans forward, placing their faces mere inches apart. “The night was going horribly until you showed up,” he teases. “You’ve kept me waiting far too long.”
“How sweet,” Janus coos back. “Almost makes me ignore the tacky apron you’re wearing and the fact that we’re flirting by a cash register.”
“Sever my head with a chainsaw, Virge,” Remus groans aloud. “This is making me sick.”
“Only if you smash my face with a mace, Dukey,” Virgil murmurs with matching disgust.
“Oh, joint homicide. How romantic! Let’s make out.” Remus puckers his lips and makes loud kissing sounds before Virgil smacks him in the face.
“It’s only been five minutes and already I want to tear all my hair out,” Virgil says with a grimace.
“Let’s just split! Your boss isn’t going to find out.” Remus shrugs, picking his nose with his pinky finger. “Pat and Lo are already on the way to the arcade, and I promised Jay-jay that I will beat his ass in air hockey.”
Roman’s jaw drops. “Wait, what?”
“God knows how bored I was up in the mountains,” Janus laments. “Although I did see a moose.”
Roman flashes a look at Virgil who, sensing his distress, clears his throat. “Yeah, welcome back Jan. Buy some shit if you’re gonna loiter around here anyway.”
Janus feigns shock. “I’m sensing targeted aggression here and I would like to speak to the manager about this.”
Virgil snatches his wrist and pulls him toward the snack aisle. “Do me a favor and just shut the fuck up.”
As Virgil drags Janus away, Roman grips the collar of Remus’ shirt and seethes, “What do you mean Patton and Logan are at the arcade? What did you tell Janus?”
“What? I told him you wanted to welcome him back at the arcade!”
“Alone, Remus! I wanted to meet with him alone!”
“Bitch, you never said anything about this being a date!”
“Oh my god.” Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “What part of ‘I need to tell Janus something important when he comes back, would you please help me’ did you not understand, you idiot?”
“Uhm, the part where you said to take him to the arcade after yours and Virgil’s shift? Is it my fault that I assumed it was going to be a group activity with, you know, everybody? Like we always do?”
Roman releases Remus’ shirt and runs his hand through his hair in panic. “Okay, Roman, calm down. The night’s just begun. Think,” he mutters to himself. Remus frowns, his eyebrows furrowing, as he leans close to his twin. “Wait, what did you want to tell him?”
Roman scoffs at the question. “How dense are you?!”
“Well someone’s panties are in a fucking twist,” Remus sneers. “What is it?”
Dropping his voice down to a whisper, Roman answers, “I was supposed to ask him out!”
Remus’ eyes widen and Roman can feel his face warming up under the shocked gaze of his twin. “What the fuck? What the fuck? Like, for real?”
Roman blinks. “What?”
“Dude, I thought you were both just acting this whole time!”
“How in the seven kingdoms of Middle Earth did you think we were just acting?”
“Because that’s what you theater gays do!” Remus slaps a hand over his mouth. “Oh god, just imagining you two fucking—I’m gonna gouge my eyes out.”
“Fuck you,” Roman growls as he grabs Remus’ wrists. “Don’t ruin this for me, I swear to Zeus, I will burn your cosplay costumes to the ground.”
Remus gasps. “You wouldn’t dare, you whore—”
Their mouths clamp shut as soon as they hear Janus and Virgil returning with a small pack of M&Ms each in hand and Roman lets go of Remus’s arms to fix his hair once more.
Virgil glances at the clock and sighs. “Right, we can go.”
“Finally!” Roman takes off his uniform and smoothens his shirt. Flashing a scowl at Remus, he says, “Can’t keep the bespectacled dorks waiting!”
Remus makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes and saunters out of the grocery store. Roman, Janus, and Virgil follow suit, with Virgil locking the store up. After checking three times that the doors are indeed secure, he shoves the keys in his bag and looks at Roman. “So...”
“Arcade!” Roman squeaks, trying to swallow down the worry he now feels rising in his throat. He turns on his heel and starts walking ahead.
Virgil follows closely behind, glancing back at Remus and Janus who converse in suspiciously hushed tones.
“Yo,” Virgil tugs on Roman’s jacket sleeve. “What did you tell him?”
“That I will murder him in cold blood tomorrow morning.”
“Wicked. But seriously though.”
“Nothing,” Roman answers testily. “We miscommunicated. I’m trying to think of something.”
“Okay. Just letting you know that I won’t be giving a fuck once we get to the arcade. I’m gonna focus on completely obliterating the whack-a-moles.”
“Thank you for your concern, Robert Downer Jr. I got this.”
They reach the arcade and find Logan and Patton by the entrance, waving at them as they approach.
“You’re all here!” Patton says as he bounces on his heels. Logan places a hand on Patton’s shoulder to calm him down and looks at Janus.
“Welcome back,” he says. “How was your trip?”
“Cold, dreary, and I befriended a beaver,” Janus answers. “The best week of my life.”
The six enter the double doors and immediately, the neon lights and ruckus fill their senses with a jolt. Remus, vibrating with excitement, stands in front of them all with hands on his hips. “Alright hoes, the bitch with the most tickets gets to boss the rest of us around ‘til the end of the night!” he declares.
Roman groans. “Since when has that rule been in place?!”
“Interesting challenge,” Janus hums. “I’ll obviously win.”
“Looks like someone’s ready to cheat,” Virgil says with a snort.
“I resent that!”
“Hey, hey, no fighting!” Patton tuts. “It’s just a friendly competition!”
Logan rolls his eyes at this. “I’m quite positive that a raccoon would be friendlier.”
“Everyone, shut up!” Remus barks. “Alright… go!”
The group disperses and, already, Remus and Logan face off against each other in basketball while Patton and Virgil check out the prizes at the claw machine. Roman looks at Janus’ spot only to find him gone and nowhere to be found. “Keep cool,” he mumbles to himself and walks over to where Patton and Virgil are. They try out the claw machines a few times before taking on the ticket-dispensing games, where eventually Remus and Logan join them. For a moment, Roman allows himself to forget about his ruined plans and challenges Logan at the racing game (which he narrowly wins), then Virgil at the King of the Hammer (which he surprisingly loses), and then his own twin at Dance Dance Revolution (which ends up in a tie).
As Roman stands at the side wiping the sweat off his brow, he feels a figure appear next to him and almost loses his balance when he sees that it’s Janus holding a mixed expression of boredom and satisfaction.
“Where have you been?” He asks.
“Winning the bet.”
Janus holds up a bucket full of tickets and Roman’s eyes widen. “How—”
“Hush, dear,” Janus smirks. “No need to worry your gorgeous head over it. Want to play something?”
“Of course! You’re the only one I haven’t gotten a hold of yet tonight.”
“Hold me all you want.” Janus taps his chin in consideration as he scans the arcade. “Oh, Time Crisis is vacant,” he points out before walking towards it. Roman follows and takes his place on Janus’ right, picking up the toy gun.
“So, about your trip...” Roman begins. “Did you really befriend a beaver?”
“I called him Anthony,” Janus replies simply. “I was so bored out of my mind that I could have sworn I started hallucinating it speaking to me.”
“Oh?” Roman quirks a brow. “And what did he tell you?”
Janus shrugs. “His 20-step plan to overthrow the government.”
The game begins and the two ready their stance.
“In any case, I’m genuinely glad to hear your voice again.”
Roman’s heart skips a beat. “My voice?”
“There’s an enemy on your left, sweetheart.”
Roman curses and directs his attention to the game. “You could have called.”
“Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.” Janus gives him a wink and Roman could feel his stomach summersault in time with the rapid beating of his heart. For the next three minutes, they don’t speak, which favors well for Roman, who is still planning how to save his supposedly romantic evening.
When they both lose their lives, Janus puts back the gun in the holster and leans his back against it. “So, why the arcade?”
“Pardon?”
“Remus told me you wanted to welcome me back at the arcade. Why is that?”
“Uhm.” Roman looks around frantically. “I actually didn’t?”
Janus’ smirk falls. “You didn’t.”
“No. Wait, no, I mean—“ he gulps. “Actually, do you want to leave? Like right now?”
The glint in Janus’ eyes returns. “Oh, a kidnapping. Fun.”
“It’s only a kidnapping if I take you by force.”
“You’re right.” Janus extends his hand to touch Roman’s arm. “Call me a willing hostage, then. Open your bag.”
Roman blinks and dutifully opens his messenger bag for Janus to stuff all his tickets inside. As soon as he’s done, he sets the bucket down and cocks his head to the side. “Where to?”
Roman scans the room and finds the rest busy at the pinball machine, and he decides it’s the best time to slip away undetected. He takes Janus’ arm and they exit the arcade to walk a few blocks down towards a milkshake diner that they both loved—at least, Roman did, and he’d always drag Janus there during some weekends when he particularly craved their Double Chocolate Hazelnut Shake. It was also where Roman first realized he had a blossoming crush on his friend, when they duetted “Those Magic Changes” from Grease with no one but the lone waitress and a little boy doing his math homework as their audience. He figured it would be poetic, somehow, to recreate that afternoon on this fated night.
So when they sit opposite each other on their usual booth and order their go-to milkshakes, Roman takes Janus’ hands and musters all the courage he could. “Jan,” he breathes, “there’s something that’s been in my mind for a while.”
“It astounds me that there’s anything in your mind,” Janus laughs teasingly.
“Rude!” Roman huffs. “I’m trying to spark a moment here.”
Roman doesn’t miss the way Janus’ face softens slightly. “Oh? And why is that?”
He swallows hard. “Well, you see, I—”
“Holy shit, it’s the theater gays!”
The two whip their heads around and see Remy hovering over them with a tray of their orders. “Oh my god, are you two, like, alone? That’s so…cute.”
“What are you doing here?” Roman grunts, letting go of Janus’ hands. He’s irritated—in fact, Remy is the worst person they could run into that evening, or any evening for that matter. Remy and Roman weren’t on the best of terms but Roman only puts up with Remy because he and Janus were friends.
“You’re dumb and you’re blind? Pick a struggle, honey,” Remy laughs before setting the milkshakes down. “I work here, in case it wasn’t, like, obvious.”
Roman sneers as he watches Remy take a seat and put his arm around Janus. “Anyway, babes, since when were you back? Were there at least any cute boys out in the wild? Please say yes so I can stop judging your taste in dates.”
Roman drowns out the conversation, grabbing his glass and taking a long and aggressive sip of his drink. Well, that’s backup plan number one ruined, he laments. As he stares at Remy—his irritatingly perfect hair slicked back and his useless shades reflecting the bright fluorescent light—he spots, on the corner of his eye, the waitress who took their order walking across the linoleum floor with another customer’s order in hand.
He counts a few beats before extending his foot ever so slightly, tripping the waitress and sending the drink she held crashing over Remy’s lap.
“Fuck!” Remy yells, and Roman slaps his hand over his mouth to contain his grin. His eyes flicker to Janus who, though surprised at what had just happened, purses his lips to control his laughter.
“Oh,” Janus says, bemused, “now all the boys can’t possibly resist coming to your yard, Remy.”
Remy glares at him and stands from his seat. He and the poor waitress scramble to clean up their mess while Roman finishes his drink in silence.
Backup plan number two involved them walking a few streets down again to another place where Roman is certain no one they know would be there. All the while, Janus tags along, musing about potholes, whichever planet is in retrograde, and a hobby he picked up while on vacation of watching YouTube clips of mahjong championships.
Janus is weird, but it’s a trait Roman is absolutely charmed by, and he curls and uncurls his fists in agitation as they approach their destination: a secondhand bookshop that stands out amid the different stores it’s flanked by due to its wooden facade, verdant indoor plants, and warm light that cascades through the glass windows—rather, what should be cascading through the window. But Roman bites back a whimper when he finds that the store is shuttered and empty.
“Closed early for today,” the sign reads in front. Is nothing going to go right? Roman cries in his head.
“Hm, that’s too bad,” Janus sighs. “Did you have a book in mind?”
Roman doesn’t reply. It wasn’t that he was going to look for a specific book, but rather that his third idea for a romcom-level declaration of love was going to involve quite a number of them. Something to do with crafting a spontaneous poem using book titles? Up until that point, Roman was thinking of just winging it, but even that plan went down the drain.
“Roman?”
Roman grunts, placing his hands on his hips. “Not particularly, no.”
Janus looks up at the sky, then the store, and then at Roman. “Well you’ve dragged me around for far too long and my feet are tired. I would definitely hate to rest at, say, the park nearby.”
“Actually,” Roman begins, slumping his shoulders, “maybe we should head back to the arcade.”
Janus rolls his shoulders. “Or we could waste even more time at the park that I don’t suppose is completely empty.”
Roman blinks at him and feels his breath hitch. “You’re most definitely right.”
They walk to the park that’s less than a minute away, brightly lit yet devoid of people. It isn’t a pretty park—it had only a few trees, a concrete path that stopped midway, and just a couple of benches that were often wet and sticky from spilled drinks that were never cleaned up—definitely not the nicest location to bear one’s heart, but at this point, Roman would be lucky if he actually ever got to.
He looks at Janus and feels his heart swell. Under the glow of the moonlight, he’s beautiful, and Roman completely abandons all his dream scenarios, his romcom scripts, and the failed attempts that evening to finally tell Janus a secret he’s kept for far too long.
“It wasn’t supposed to go this way, you know,” he says with embarrassment.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
A blush colors Roman’s cheeks. “I had this amazing plan and everything. I was ready to sweep you off your feet.”
Janus purses his lips and averts his gaze. “I’m hardly worth any trouble, dearest.”
“Why not?” He reaches out to tuck stray strands of Janus’ hair behind his ear. “You deserve nothing less.”
Roman feels Janus’ cheeks warm and his heart soars. “You’ve always been extra, I suppose,” Janus whispers in reply.
Roman chuckles at that. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know.”
“I’m told I have that effect on people.”
“But I’m the only one who matters right?”
“That depends,” Janus flashes a cheeky smile. “Depends on what we are.”
Roman’s pulse races. “What do you want us to be?”
“That decision lies with you, doesn’t it?” Janus’ voice is laced with seriousness now. “I believe I’ve made myself dreadfully blatant enough.”
Janus lightly grazes his hand against Roman’s arm, and Roman clasps it, intertwining their fingers tightly. Letting out a shaky breath, Roman says, “I think I have too.”
Their faces inch closer together slowly, timidly.
Until a familiar voice shouts his name from the distance.
“Roman!”
Roman turns his head in surprise and sees Remus, Virgil, Logan, and Patton running in their direction. “Holy Hera—”
“I think we lost him,” Patton pants, dropping to his knees to catch his breath. Roman and Janus eye the four, all keeled over with sweat dripping down their faces.
“What happened?” Roman asks them in worry.
“So apparently, some kid broke into some arcade machines and stole tons of tickets, and the guys who worked there started asking us questions,” Remus begins to explain through labored breaths. “Obviously, we didn’t know anything which makes me wanna cut my balls off out of frustration—like, why didn’t I think of that crazy idea? Anyway, then Logan, holy shit, Logan here—”
“Right, pin the blame on me,” Logan cuts him off, grimacing as he wipes the fog from his glasses.
“—Logan goes on to fucking ask the guy if he could describe the suspect.” Remus turns to look at Janus. “So the bitch says, ‘kinda short, black sweater, has a weird mark on his cheek.’”
Janus feigns innocence. “How intriguing. Could be anyone.”
“Fuck, that’s what I said!” Remus’ grin is menacingly wide. “But Logan goes, ‘Oh, sounds like our friend Janus.’”
Roman drops his face onto his palms. “Oh my god.”
“Excuse me, it would have gone well if Virgil hadn’t panicked and ran right out of the building,” Logan seethes, gesturing towards Virgil who is still panting heavily.
“I didn’t want to get in trouble!” Virgil answers in defense.
“So we all just bolted,” Remus finishes, rubbing the back of his head. “Guess we won’t be going to that shithole anytime soon.”
“No thanks to you,” Virgil mumbles, staring pointedly at Janus who gasps, “I am appalled by this accusation! Where’s the proof? I don’t even have a bag.”
Logan sighs. “It’s in Roman’s, isn’t it?”
“I’ve been made an accessory to a crime!” Roman cries in response.
Patton starts giggling as he picks himself off the ground. “I don’t know about you all, but that was the most fun I’ve had this Spring Break.”
The rest, though still evidently peeved, give noncommittal shrugs.
“What were you two doing in this place, anyway?” Logan asks pointedly, scrutinizing their surroundings.
“Roman was just giving me my welcome back present.” Janus leans forward and pecks Roman’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, love?”
Roman squeaks, looking absolutely winded as Janus starts walking away.
“Come on, I’m famished,” Janus continues casually. “Logan mentioned wanting Mexican? Patton, dear, close that mouth, you might swallow a fly. Remus, stop trying to claw out your eyes.”
Roman stays rooted in place and Virgil stares at him. “So I guess it all went according to plan after all?”
He sighs, a soft grin forming on his face. “Not at all.”