Chapter Text
Virgil’s foot bounces lightly to a beat of his own making. Sporadic as the motion began to ache at his ankle. His fancy black shoes felt like a lead weight.
Why was he invited to this stupid event anyways? I mean, yeah, Logan is one of his closest friends, but that should mean he would understand that Virgil doesn’t care about stuffy overhyped ceremonies. …honestly he thought Logan felt the same, but apparently there’s a lot he doesn’t actually know about the man.
Patton was already blubbering, hugging Roman as a lifeline, like a proud father. …but that just irked Virgil more.
He leaned back in the shitty fold out chair, looking up at the sky over the simple venue. …Did Patton not remember? Or did he just not care?
A scoff escaped Virgil’s lips, as he went back to hunching over.
…
It was well known knowledge that Patton and Logan had dated in high school. Hell, it was before he was even part of their friend group and he still knew about it. He could still sometimes see the way Patton’s eyes lingered on Logan… the subtle guilt he was unable to hide.
Had Patton done something to traumatize Logan into liking women? Been such a shitty boyfriend that Logan decided, “no more men for me” and just went on to date the most intelligent woman he could? Because that’s all Virgil could figure, that this was some choice made out of rational reasoning and critical decision making then because Logan actually loved this bitch-
No. That’s not. …that’s not fair.
…
Virgil’s foot finally stopped, his breath heavy as he let it out. His eyes timidly gazed up to the altar. Logan was with his parents, his face so warm. So happy. So bright. …it burned Virgil's chest like a raging forest fire. The licks of the tops of the flame grazing his cheeks as he pushed the blush back down. Choked the smoke back into his lungs.
Roman slapped Virgil’s shoulder playfully, grinning, “Oh lighten up stormcloud. You look like you’re about to rain on this parade like it’s a funeral instead.”
Virgil scoffed, pushing Roman’s hand off, “Come off it Roman, doesn’t this bug you too?!” Roman and Patton both seemed rather surprised by Virgil’s aggression. Patton softly mumbling, confused, “…bug…?”
Virgil groaned and leaned back as he just bluntly asked, “Didn’t you think Logan was gay too?”
Roman laughs, and Patton smiles… if not awkwardly. As Roman speaks up, “That dork? He’s probably as straight as his posture.”
Logan’s eyes flick over for just a moment before returning to his parents.
Patton also speaks up, if not with some hesitation, “Well hey now Roman, just because he’s getting married to a woman doesn’t mean he couldn’t also like men. He could be bisexual! Dating someone of the opposite gender doesn’t suddenly erase the other half of his sexuality.”
Roman rolls his eyes, before patting Patton’s back, “Oh come on, don’t be the politically correct police- I know that Patton, I’m just saying. Other than Logan’s experiment with you he’s never really… never showed any interest in dating guys again.” Roman shrugs, before continuing, “I guess he just-“
-
But by this point Virgil was blocking it out. Biting at his thumb nail. Did Logan look over at him for a reason? Like a silent plea for help? Like he knew Virgil knew he wasn’t into women? Was he being forced into this? Were his parents actively threatening him-
His chair wobbled, his terrible posture almost knocking him out of it. A scowl quickly smothered his face as he turned to chew out the idiot that bumped into him- and was met with the overwhelming and sickening scent of lavender.
The bouquet she held in her hands was made up mostly of traditional flowers, as far as Virgil could tell, but those damn lavender stalks. It was like they haunted the delicate balance of pollen and swept all other scents away.
“Oh I’m so sorry!” She calmly but quickly apologized, helping Virgil sit up. Her short hair curled upwards at the bottom. Dress cut elegantly. Her posture is stiff, but not like Logan. It was the difference between a hardback and paperback book being flopped open.
“Heels am I right?” She awkwardly joked as her excuse for bumping into him. And honestly? A bit of pity formed in Virgil’s gut as she walked away- clearly uncomfortable and unstable in the tall heels she wore. Hell, the entire getup seemed to cling to her like a Barbie dress being shoved on another brand of doll.
…damn it. It was so much harder to be mad at an actual person than the faceless one he’d been pushing the blame to in his head. His lip tugged slightly as she walked up to Logan.
Her hand grazing his sleeve.
Her chin resting on his shoulder.
Her smile matching his.
…
Virgil stood up, excusing himself for a moment.
—————————————————————-𓇢𓆸
The ceremony was nice. The walk down the isle got some choked up reactions from family (and Patton of course), and the vows were recited with practiced ease. Virgil blinked during the kiss though. …a long hard blink.
And that damn lavender.
Anytime she walked by, bouquet or not, the stench followed.
Every person she touched seemed to become infected by the sickly sweet scent.
Hell, by the end of the night, Virgil was sure he was tasting it in the damn cake.
-
Logan had come by to chat with them that night, but it felt so… cold. Something was cut from between him and Virgil. A phone line left dangling between their feet as Virgil’s side sparked and lit up and the phone called “Hello? Hello? Are you there?” …to no reply.
It was social politeness. Nothing more. A “thanks for coming to the happiest day of my life, and for sitting through the reminder you won’t get yours.”
Virgil stewed and stewed for weeks to come, Logan’s question to Patton at their next hangout together a simple but unknowingly complex one, “Is he ok?”
Patton skirted around the question, the heavy truth something he wished he didn’t know so he didn’t have to dance around the words that weren’t his to give. Leaving Logan with more questions than answers. The cold silver of his ring burning his finger.
Waiting until they were alone.
-
The blazing coffee mugs in their hands the only warmth in the room. Logan’s fingers tapping against the ceramic softly.
*thump, thump, clink, thump*
A shattering clunk as the metal ring hit the delicate glass again and again and again.
*thump, thump, clink, thump*
Virgil paced his breaths. A shudder crossing his body with every clink. His patience being worn down until-
*thump, thump, clink, thump- SLAM*
Virgil’s hand hit the table palm down, his eyes wide as they focused with a fury on the bastard before him. The raging forest fire in his chest having burnt all the vegetation. There was nothing but ash left, and it wasn’t worth shifting through.
Logan remained unphased. Unperturbed by the action as he instead took Virgil’s rapt attention to speak, “Virgil, I have noticed your… irritability as of lately.” He stood, walking over to the slightly shorter man.
…the ashes rustled with a slight ember
Logan reached over the couch, pulling out a small, simply wrapped present. Setting it on the table before Virgil, “…So here. I tried to get you something to help ease your nerves.”
-
He could smell it before he could see it.
The purple wrapping emphasized the scent that was polluting his senses.
A part of him wanted to yell at Logan, to scream at him to get the hell out, and how it wasn’t funny to do something like this, to taunt him, to-
…but he could see by the look in Logan’s eyes that he was being genuine. It was a subtle look, something Virgil became very good at reading. The smaller details of Logan’s stoic face that gave away his intent and feelings. It felt like a small secret they shared, a private communication line…
Virgil’s fingers undid the string as he slid the small collection of lavender items out. A candle, soap, even a spray of some kind. A small smile crossed Logan’s lips as he explained, “I’ve looked it up, and lavender can have a calming effect on people. And with how… tense you’ve seemed lately, I figured perhaps it could help ease a bit of your stress.”
-
Ease his stress? Ease his stress? He couldn’t think of any scent more stressful and vile and revolting than lavender. He was suddenly back in that fold out chair, with his suit that was just a bit too tight in all the wrong places, with everyone around glancing and laughing at him because they knew what he didn’t. Because they were all in on the joke that he wasn’t.
-
Logan’s hand carefully squeezed Virgil’s shoulder, trying to ground him. As he asked softly, “Virgil? Everything ok?”
Virgil rolled Logan’s hand from his shoulder, ignoring the cold ache that accompanied its loss. Picking up the gift set as he shortly replied, “Yeah. Fine. Thanks Lo.” And left his coffee to get even colder.
…
Logan watched as the door clicked shut softly, knowing Virgil wouldn’t be coming back. His fingers hesitantly feeling the ceramic edge of Virgil’s mug. Lifting it to take just a small sip. Then another. He shivered at the taste. It was more cream than coffee, just as Virgil liked it.
But Logan hated sweet things.
…and yet he drank. And drank. Until the mug was empty.