Chapter Text
“Let’s see…decorations, check. Meal plans, check. This week’s club activities…check…”
Vil sat at his desk and scrolled through his phone, his brows furrowing as he reviewed his weekly checklist. Normally, the task was one he excelled in, breezing through it without a second thought and moving on to activities more worthy of his time. However, with the holidays coming up, he had more things to consider, especially as a housewarden and all-around perfectionist.
Everything was silent for a few minutes, except for the occasional tapping of his nails against the phone screen. He was so absorbed in the activity that he took no notice of his door opening, freezing when a voice rang through his room.
“Mon ami, you’ll stifle your radiance if you continue creasing your eyebrows like that.”
Vil immediately relaxed upon identifying the voice, looking up from his phone, and seeking the emerald ones belonging to his friend. As Vil’s eyes roamed around his room, they eventually settled on the tall blond leaning against the door frame, his eyes crinkling as they met Vil’s. Straightening his posture, Rook swiftly entered Vil’s bedroom, disregarding the notion of an invitation as the pair’s relationship was far beyond such pleasantries.
“Rook, just how long have you been standing there?” Vil asked, crossing his arms and frowning as he watched his friend sit on the edge of his bed.
“Only for a few minutes, I assure you.” Rook leaned forward toward Vil. “Whatever has you so stressed, though, Roi du Poison? You never let your brows furrow that deeply lest it ruin your make-up.”
Vil hummed in acknowledgment and placed his phone down, relaxing his expression at his friend’s comment. “Well, with the holidays approaching, there are far more things to concern myself with. You know perfectly well that the holidays are some of the busiest times around, and as housewarden and vice housewarden of Pomefiore we have several added responsibilities.”
“Oui. Yet, there is a rare beauty that is present during the holidays, non? The high spirits, elaborate light displays, and jovial warmth are more than enough to make up for the excessive work that such festivities bring.”
Vil shook his head at his vice’s proclamations. Of course, Rook would manage to find the silver lining in the holidays’ excessive work.
“Yes, I suppose the rewards are well worth our efforts,” he mused. “Now, if you're not too busy, I could certainly use your help evaluating some of these designs for the club’s upcoming performance. Our designer was a bit too enthusiastic about this year’s performance and submitted well over thirty drafts for me to review.”
“Mon Dieu! While I certainly applaud his enthusiasm, I would venture to say that a substantial number of them fail to meet your vigorous requirements, non?”
“Naturally,” Vil said, reaching to pull a stack of papers out from a folder on his desk. “However, even if the majority of them aren’t up to par it is still my duty to properly assess them before I make any final decisions.”
Rook hummed thoughtfully before standing up from Vil’s bed and making his way to his dorm leader, gently prying the documents from his hands. Vil quirked an eyebrow at him in confusion, crossing his arms when his vice simply smiled in return.
“Rook, just what are you up to this time?”
“Nothing bad, mon étoile,” he began, returning the stack of designs to their folder. “I simply worry that you haven’t gotten enough rest these past few days. Putting the dorm’s holiday plans aside, you’ve also had to deal with your club’s obligations and your modeling assignments.” Before Vil could retort, Rook leaned down and gently took his chin, tilting it to look at his face from various angles. “I mean, your already fair complexion has become a few shades paler, and I daresay you have the slightest hint of bags beneath your eyes.”
A slight flush overtook Vil’s face as he made eye contact with Rook, his emerald eyes holding him mesmerized. It wasn’t the first time Rook had analyzed his complexion in such a manner; however, this time Vil couldn’t help but notice the sincere concern that lay hidden in those eyes.
As he stared at his companion, his brows slightly furrowed and lips tilted into the slightest frown, Vil felt something briefly flutter in his chest, and his heart squeezed at the idea that Rook cared so deeply about him. Sure, he had a plethora of fans who swore their loyalty and devotion to him, but not one of them could ever be as sincere as the blonde man right in front of him.
After a few seconds of silence, Vil suddenly became aware of the situation at hand and cleared his throat before looking away, removing Rook’s hands in the process. He immediately missed their warmth and for the briefest second contemplated putting them back, but instead, he took a deep breath to steady himself and schooled his features into a light frown as he turned his gaze back onto his friend. Get a hold of yourself, he chastised himself.
“Rook, while I appreciate the sentiment, there is still much work to be done. If I want to return to my normal schedule as quickly as possible, then I have to finish the task at hand.”
Rook sighed and shook his head, unhappy that Vil would sacrifice his rest for work. “Well, if you truly insist on tackling as much of this work as possible, far be it from me to stop you.” He then pulled out his phone and began fiddling with it, confusing Vil until Rook turned the device around and showed him the timer he had set up. “But, I'll only give you an additional hour. Vil, you know better than anyone the importance of sleep and rest and I refuse to let you rob yourself of such luxuries.”
Vil shook his head fondly before reaching out and taking his vice’s phone out of his hand. “If that’s what it’ll take to reassure you then, fine. Now, let’s not waste any more time, alright?”
Rook nodded and grabbed a handful of designs, sitting on the bed beside Vil. The rest of the evening was spent rather quietly, minus the occasional rustling of papers and scratching sounds of pen on paper. And as the sun began to set behind an array of tinted windows, a certain housewarden found himself ushered away from his work and into his bathroom, where his vice insisted he prepare himself for bed.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The next day, Vil strolled into his alchemy class with Rook in tow. He made his way to the shared table he had with Lilia and Cater and briefly greeted them before pulling out a stack of papers from his bag and handing them over to Rook.
“Okay, these are all the designs that I think show some promise. I need you to distribute them to the designers and ask them if they can get together for a quick meeting after school. I would prefer if they looked over the notes I wrote before we met, so the sooner you get these to them the better.”
Rook quickly shuffled through the stack of papers before nodding his head at Vil, bowing down exaggeratedly. “I swear to you that I will fulfill your task most satisfactorily, Roi du Poison.”
Vil rolled his eyes at Rook before shooing him away, lifting a hand to hide the smallest of smiles when Rook reached the door and turned around to shoot him the cheesiest of winks.
Although the expression may have gone unnoticed by the rest of the class—who at this point were well used to Rook’s theatrics—Cater and Lilia were far more familiar with Vil to know that the housewarden rarely showed anyone such a soft expression.
With their interests piqued, Cater and Lilia snuck a quick glance at each other and simultaneously understood what the other was thinking, resolving in the back of their minds to interrogate Vil before the class was over.
Not a minute later, Professor Crewel entered the classroom, informing the class about the potion they would be making that period. Before long, he dismissed the class to work on their potions and Cater and Lilia seized the moment to ask Vil about a certain blond Frenchman.
“Soooo, Vil-kun, Lilia-kun” Cater began, deciding to tiptoe around the topic for now. “How is holiday planning coming along for you guys? Riddle-san’s determined to finish our dorm preparations by the end of the week and I'm pooped having to run around and keep the freshies in line!”
“My, don't you have it rough, Cater,” Lilia chuckled, rolling back his sleeves and slicing the ingredients in front of him. “Malleus simply waved his hand around and the decorations for our dorm were immediately set up. I tried telling him about the importance of camaraderie and the holiday spirit but it only confused him,” Lilia explained, sighing as the incident came to mind. “What about you, Vil? I'm sure Pomefiore is planning another beautiful display for the holidays?”
“Of course,” Vil answered, pouring a purple vial into their cauldron. “The holidays are the best time to showcase one’s beauty and it would be foolish not to capitalize on it.”
Cater let out a sigh. “Yeah, but don't you find it tedious having to plan it all out? I’m not even a vice housewarden, and I feel like I'm being worked to the bone~”
“Well, Heartslabyul does have quite the set of standards,” Lilia interjected, patting Cater on the back as he slumped onto the table. “And your housewarden just so happens to be one of the more… detail-oriented types.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cater said, waving his hand. “How are you guys so chill, though? I mean, Malleus practically finished Diasomnia’s preparations on his own, so I get Lilia being so relaxed, but Vil, you have a lot of responsibilities to uphold! I mean, just this morning you gave Rook a massive stack of papers you looked over. Aren't you exhausted?”
Vil hummed thoughtfully as he gathered the freshly chopped ingredients and poured them into the cauldron. “I won't deny that all the planning has been rather tiring,” he began, signaling to Cater to begin mixing the potion. “However, Rook has been a major help these past few weeks and we've made a lot more progress than if I were working completely alone.”
“It must be nice having your boyfriend as your vice,” Cater replied, catching Vil so off guard that he nearly knocked over one of their beakers. “Not only do you have an excuse to hang out with him 24/7, but it must make carrying out your plans so easy since the two of you are so in sync with each other.”
“Yes, young love is certainly a beautiful thing,” Lilia added. “I imagine Rook feels much the same way, no?”
Vil stared wide-eyed at his companions, his cheeks slightly tinged with red as he tried to gather his thoughts. Surely, they don’t mean—
“I'm sorry, what?” he asked, internally wincing as he realized his voice had risen a few octaves. He nervously cleared his throat. “Rook and I aren't dating.”
“WHAT!?” Cater and Lilia yelled in unison, quieting down once they noticed Professor Crewel glaring at them across the room. “How?” Cater began, waving his hands around in confusion. “The two of you are literally the ‘it’ couple on campus!”
“Are the two of you not mutually exclusive?” Lilia pondered, taking over stirring duty. He looked just as confused as Cater. “You don't strike me as the type, though.”
Vil shook his head, extinguishing the flame and allowing the liquid within the cauldron to cool. “It's not that. Rook and I simply don't harbor those feelings toward each other.”
Cater and Lilia stared silently at Vil, greatly unnerving the model. Never one to back down from a challenge, however, he held their stares, creating a stalemate between the three. Several seconds passed before any of them spoke.
“You’re kidding, right?” Cater exclaimed. The hair framing his face swayed as he fanatically moved his head about. “Rook basically proclaims his love for you every day! Not to mention he follows you around like a love-sick puppy!”
“He does not!” Vil snapped back, his heart racing at the implication of their words.
“I have to agree with Cater, Vil,” Lilia said, his eyes narrowing as he prepared to tease Vil. "After all, Rook would chase you to the ends of the earth, and as the ‘Chasseur de Amor’ doesn't that make you the love he’s chasing?”
By now Vil was struggling to keep his composure, constantly reminding himself that he was an actor and knew exactly how to school his expressions. Once Vil had sufficiently calmed down and his heart rate slowed to a somewhat normal pace, he cleared his throat and mentally prepared himself to set the record straight. But before he could do that, Professor Crewel rasped his knuckles on his desk and everyone began packing up for dismissal.
Between the scrapes of the stools on the tiled floor and the thumps of several backpacks, Vil stood no chance of refuting Cater’s and Lilia’s claims. As soon as the bell rang the two waved goodbye to Vil and quickly made their way out of the classroom in hopes of beating the lunch line.
Vil sighed as he slung his bag across his shoulder, lightly rubbing his temples to relieve the incoming headache. Although he knew the rumors between him and Rook weren't exactly new, he had faith that the people around them wouldn't fall for them. Based on Cater’s and Lilia's observations, though, that clearly wasn't the case.
Well, it won't do any good to dwell on them now. If I don't make it back to the dorm soon, Rook will undoubtedly begin pestering the freshmen---and I'm not in the mood to coddle those spuddlings.
As he made his way through the long-winded hallway, Vil tried his best to put Cater’s and Lilia's comments behind him, yet his mind couldn't help but circle back to them. And so, amidst the loud and bustling crowd, Vil let his thoughts wander.
Now, Rook had always been a sort of enigma to Vil. The Frenchman was always one to follow his intuition, making him highly unpredictable and impulsive, much to Vil’s chagrin. Despite this, Vil had grown rather fond of the hunter, and he often found himself laughing at his misadventures more than anything else.
Yet, this didn't accurately describe his feelings for Rook, not in the slightest. For as often as Vil found himself rolling his eyes in amusement at his friend, he also found himself thinking of Rook at the most inopportune times.
Every morning, as the sun's rays shone through Vil's window, he found himself thinking of Rook, and how the sun could barely hold a candle to his golden tresses. During class, he found himself doodling his emerald eyes and freckled cheeks in the margins of his notebook, his cheeks turning pink whenever he attempted to draw his friend's lips. And every afternoon as he directed the Film Club’s newest theatrical performance, he imagined Rook standing beside him, lavishing the students with his extravagant praise in that loud and boisterous voice that illuminated his world.
…Okay, so maybe the rumors had a little more credibility than he let on. However, Vil would scarcely call his feelings love. Sure, maybe he sought out Rook more times than he cared to admit, and yes, he admittedly was easy on the eyes, but that could hardly be called love, right?
Besides, Vil thought bitterly, even if I lo—care for Rook, there's no way I could keep him all to myself. Rook’s always going on and on about all the beauty in the world and I doubt I could retain his attention for long. How could I when the real me is nothing but an ugly, repulsive, hideous—
“Ah! Vil-san, what are you doing here!?” a high-pitched voice exclaimed, shaking Vil from his thoughts. “Don’t cha’ have lunch right now?”
Vil looked to his right at the short, wide-eyed freshman who had called his name, frowning at his sudden outburst. As if sensing his upperclassmen’s impending ire, Epel automatically straightened his back and looked at the ground sheepishly, bracing himself for the lecture he knew he was in for.
“Epel,” Vil began, tapping his heel impatiently against the white tile. “What have I told you about volume moderation?”
“That it’s an ‘integral part of one’s image,’” Epel said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “But it was an honest mistake Vil-san!”
“Be that as it may, you can't afford to slip up like that,” Vil chided him. “As a member of Pomefiore, you have a responsibility to embody the beauty and manners of the Evil Queen, and a careless mistake like that won't get you closer to that goal.”
“I understand, Vil-san.”
“Good, my little poisoned apple. Now, have you seen Rook?”
Epel’s eyes took on a mischievous glint as he looked at Vil, crossing his arms and smirking at his upperclassmen. “Why? Are you looking to smooch your boyfriend?”
Vil immediately flushed, a scowl overtaking his features as he stared Epel down. “No, I need to talk to him about the holiday decorations. So, will you tell me where he is or not?”
“Whatever you say, Vil-san.” Epel uncrossed his arms and nodded his head towards the direction of the ballroom. “Rook-san was helping some of the students with their dancing. I think it's for the holiday performance?”
“Sevens know those spuds need more practice,” Vil murmured, shaking his head. “Thank you, Epel…even though that earlier comment was highly inappropriate.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Epel brushed his comments off. “Anywho, I'm off now. Jack saved me a seat and texted me that they're serving barbecue today.”
This time it was Vil's turn to smirk as he watched the young boy run off. “Someone's eager to see their boyfriend!~” He called out in a sing-song voice, chuckling when Epel turned as red as the apples they grew on his farm.
Vil waited a few seconds before turning around and heading to the ballroom, bracing himself for whatever disastrous dancing was occurring in there. However, he immediately stopped in his tracks once he caught sight of what was happening in the room.
Rook, instead of teaching the students the proper steps for the song, was galavanting around the room, pulling each student one by one into the center and encouraging them to put their own twist on the dance. Unlike the tense atmosphere that was often present during the practices Vil held, the atmosphere in the room was upbeat and easy-going, with every student enjoying themself to the utmost degree.
But the most captivating sight in the room (in Vil's eyes at least) was Rook.
Although the way he guided the students in and out of the spotlight suggested that Rook was meant to serve a supportive role in this dance, Vil couldn't help but be drawn to his every move. From the way his blond tresses swayed as he drew a new student to the center of the room to how his eyes shone with unbridled joy, every part of Rook oozed the sort of effortless beauty that Vil strove to achieve. And as Rook’s gaze finally turned toward Vil and he approached him with an outstretched hand, Vil thought that maybe, just this once, he wouldn't mind accepting it.
Slipping his hand into the waiting one belonging to his loyal huntsman, Vil wasted no time in bringing him in, letting his other hand rest on Rook's waist. In turn, Rook placed his free hand on Vil’s shoulder, and as the pair glided across the ballroom floor they looked every bit as breathtaking as possible.
For once, Vil let the music wash over him, and as he spun Rook around, the only thing he could focus on was those forest green eyes and the admiration he saw within them.
Rook, for his part, seemed equally as enraptured with Vil, and he willingly let Vil lead the dance. His eyes became uncharacteristically soft, and as he stepped closer to his housewarden, Vil couldn't help but wonder if maybe, he did feel the tiniest bit of feelings for him.
Eventually, the music came to an end, and as the pair stopped with their faces mere centimeters away from each other, their dorm mates erupted into applause, shattering whatever tension had been created around them.
“Incredible!”
“What an amazing performance!”
“The harmony between our housewarden and vice-housewarden is unlike anything I've ever seen!”
After a few seconds of elaborate praise, Vil clapped his hands to quiet down his students.
“Well now, I hope this impromptu lesson helps you spuddlings master the song. You're all free to go to lunch.”
As the students turned and headed for the open door, he turned to his vice-housewarden and began smiling teasingly.
“Well, someone was certainly enjoying themselves, no?”
“Oui! It was most thrilling to be amid such uninhibited creativity! My heart soars as I think about the grâce et élégance that our dear students showcased!”
Vil fondly shook his head. “I guess those spuds didn’t perform half as bad today as they usually do. Now, should we get on with our lunch, my loyal huntsman?”
Rook grinned and did a playful bow as he gestured toward the door. “It would be an honor, Roi du Poison!”
Vil stepped through the doorframe and waited patiently as Rook locked the door behind him, taking the opportunity to admire the Christmas decor scattered across the lounge. It didn't take long for Rook to finish locking up, and Vil soon felt his huntsman's arm wrap around his shoulder in a friendly embrace.
“The students did a marvelous job decorating the dorm, non?” He asked, turning his head and looking up at Vil. “I doubt the Evil Queen herself could find fault in their work.”
“Yes, I suppose you're right,” Vil replied, all too aware of how close the two of them were. He leaned ever so slightly into the touch. “They’re shaping up to be quite lovely potatoes.”
“It's all thanks to your hard work, Vil,” Rook said, smiling softly at him. Vil’s cheeks flushed slightly at the huntsman's usage of his name. “You are the etoile that lights the way for our entire dorm. Your splendor and unbridled tenacity inspire everyone in this dorm to better themselves every day.”
“Rook…” Vil breathed out, his eyes softly at his huntsman's sentiment. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Rook replied, stepping back and taking Vil's hand in his own. He laid a gentle kiss upon it. “Now, come; we wouldn't want to ruin your dietary plan by eating late, would we?”
Vil laughed and shook his head. “No, we wouldn't. Did you manage to make that new smoothie blend I showed you yesterday?” He asked, skillfully pulling his hand away from Rook.
Rook’s eyes dimmed for a second before brightening again. “Oui! I stored it in the fridge. Shall we head there now?”
“Of course,” Vil answered. He straightened out his robes before beckoning to Rook. “Come now, my dear hunter. Let's not waste any more idling around.”
Rook smiled and fell in line with his beloved housewarden, their hands lightly brushing against each other as they made their way to the kitchens. And if the two of them were sporting light blushes on their cheeks, that was only for them to know.