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Logan shot through the floor of his room at an alarming speed. It was a completely illogical thought, as he hadn’t come through a door, but he had a sudden urge to slam one shut and lean his whole weight against it.
He sighed.
Well, that was mortifying.
To his horror, Logan’s already pink face reddened further as his mind drifted back to the interaction.
Virgil’s form, curled up on the window sill and shining under the incoming shafts of light. Virgil’s skin burning against his own where their fingers brushed, a borrowed book passed between them. Virgil’s crooked smile and his murmured, “thanks, L.”
It was so ordinary, but it set his heart racing despite that. It was all so horribly mundane, but it sent Logan running.
He groaned as he remembered how he’d become a spluttering mess at such a small interaction with – as Roman would say, and has said many times already – his crush.
It was ridiculous. He had interacted with Virgil every day for as long as he could remember, without ever encountering these problems. But recently, as they became closer, as a comfortable affection grew between them, Logan found himself becoming uncharacteristically flustered.
Everything he’d been planning to say – ‘of course, Virgil’, and ‘it’s no problem, Virgil’ and ‘what did you think of it, Virgil, what was your favourite part?’ It all flew out of his head the moment he had a chance to speak, leaving his mouth silently opening and closing like a machine missing a key piece of code.
Logan tugged his hands through his hair, agitated just thinking about it. He wanted to scream.
But he was suddenly distracted from his frustration when his eye caught on something out of place in his room. One of the new plushies had moved from its home with the others displayed on his bedside table.
A miniature representation of Virgil sat right in the middle of his pillow, facing him and glaring.
Logan blinked.
“Don’t look at me like that!”
The plushie didn’t react in any way other than to keep glaring.
“I mean it,” he warned, drawing closer to the bed. “I’m trying my best here.”
It was completely irrational, but the plushie seemed to raise an eyebrow.
“I am!” he insisted. “And you’re not making it any easier by judging me.”
Logan sat his bed, sighing, and picked up the soft toy.
“It’s just…” he trailed off, hesitant to say such a thing out loud. When he finally admitted it, his voice was little more than a whisper. “I’m not any good at this.”
Virgil’s face softened slightly, and Logan felt encouraged to continue.
“I’m not used to it,” he said louder. “I’ve been… feeling so much, and I don’t know how I can hold all of it inside me. I don’t know what to do with everything I feel. Everything I want.”
Like what? Virgil asked.
“Like… like how much I want to be near him. Like how every time he looks at me I feel like I’ll explode.” Logan’s words sped up, a dopey grin settling on his face. “I love spending time with him, and when I’m alone I just can’t stop thinking about him. It’s really distracting!” he giggled.
“I just…” Logan sighed. “I like him. I really, really like him.”
So tell him, Virgil urged.
His smile dropped.
“I can’t.”
Why not?
“Because I can’t! I don’t know how!” Logan cried. “I’m not warm or funny like Patton. I can’t make impassioned declarations of my undying love like Roman. I’m not smooth, and I’m certainly not seductive like Janus.”
Logan flopped backwards, bouncing slightly as he hit the bed.
“I’m just me.”
So what? Virgil demanded.
“So… so I can’t.”
Logan dropped the plushie on his chest, like that would get rid of the pit in his stomach. He pushed up his glasses and rubbed his hands over his face.
He paused.
Then he picked the plushie up and brought it to his face.
He likes you, it said.
“Yes. Yes, that’s what Roman says. Romance is his job, so I suppose he should know. And he and Virgil are close.” Logan smiled slightly. “He says that Virgil talks about me all the time.”
He likes you.
“Yes,” Logan agreed. “You just said that.”
Virgil glared again. He. Likes. You.
Logan thought about that for a minute.
Virgil liked him.
Virgil liked him, without needing anything special. Virgil liked him just for the days spent in each other’s company. All it took was sharing beloved books and movies; sitting with each other as they completed different tasks, music filling the space between them; nights spent in the Imagination watching the stars together.
Maybe Logan didn’t have the jokes or the words or the smooth voice that the others had. It didn’t matter. Virgil didn’t like them, not in the same way. Virgil liked him.
Virgil liked Logan, for Logan.
So maybe Logan could tell Virgil just how much he liked him after all. He wasn’t good at expressing his emotions, but he could learn.
The plushie smirked at him, like it knew it had won.
“No need to be smug,” Logan told it.
Then he stopped.
This was ludicrous. He was talking to a plushie, just some fabric and a bit of stuffing.
It helped though, Virgil pointed out.
Logan huffed a laugh. He couldn’t ignore the first-hand data staring him in the face. “Yes, I suppose it did.”
He brought Virgil to his chest, tucked him under his chin, and squeezed. Almost immediately, he felt the same reduction in cortisol that Virgil had been talking about earlier.
There was a small pop beside his bed.
“Hey, L, are you ready for-”
Logan shot upright, hastily dropping the stuffed version of Virgil and standing to stare at the real side.
“Virgil! How can I help you?”
He tried very hard to ignore the heat creeping up his neck.
“Uh…” Virgil frowned, confused. “Doctor Who binge-watch. That’s today, right?”
“Oh, yes!” Logan cursed himself for losing track of the time. This had been in his schedule for ages! “You remembered!”
“Well, yeah,” Virgil muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks.”
It was hard to tell under his foundation, but Logan thought Virgil was blushing.
“Me too,” he replied softly.
Virgil was definitely blushing.
Soon they were seated on the bed, laptop open in front of them and the theme tune playing. Virgil was watching intently and Logan watched him watching, excited to finally see his reaction to this beloved show.
They had an assortment of snacks spread across the bedsheets, Logan’s concerns about crumbs being waved off with, “a few imaginary crumbs won’t hurt you”.
Yes, Logan thought as Virgil tore into the bag of popcorn. Yes, he could tell him.
He spotted the plushie, sitting once again with its family on the bedside table. Maybe it was just the low light, but it seemed to smile at him.
Maybe there was an element of truth to what Patton said about stuffed toys being alive after all.