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"So, how long did your Star Trek fanfiction actually end up being?" Virgil asked, balancing himself on the arm of the sofa. Logan looked up at him from his book, slipping a bookmark onto the page and closing it. He took a breath before answering, feeling embarrassment that he knew wasn't particularly logical due to the fact that Virgil would never really shame him for his interests.
"If my word counter is accurate, then it was approximately 400,000 words, blurb and otherwise not included."
"And that took you how long?" Virgil's eyebrow raised, tilting his head in curiosity. Logan sighed in amusement when he noticed the subtle similarities that the other side shared with small, domestic felines.
"Over the course of 2 months."
"And you lecture Thomas about his time management. How many hours of sleep did you lose from that?"
Logan looked away and took a slow sip of his coffee, avoiding Virgil's amused smirk. He could detect the rhetorical tone in his question and chose to leave out his likely unsatisfactory answer. "I admit that I did use that time irresponsibly, but other than my own sleeping pattern, I have been taking care of myself otherwise."
"Really? Because your beard is saying somethin' else." Virgil commented, scratching his own scruff with a head tilt, eyes solidly locked onto Logan's beard. The latter blanched for a moment and moved into the downstairs bathroom to stare into the mirror. Virgil snorted when he heard the sigh from the other side.
"Of course... I hadn't thought to charge my trimmer the last time I used it, it's probably out of battery now." Logan mused, running a hand across his facial hair.
"Definitely on top of everything, just as you said." Virgil teased, enjoying the shameful blush that spread over Logan's scruffy cheeks, a rare sight. "Come on, mine's charged, you can use it if you don't want to wait." Logan sighed and nodded, scratching at the mess on his cheeks.
"If it's any consolation, I think it works on you." Virgil said as the ventured upstairs to where everyone's rooms were located. Logan glanced at the other side, noting that Virgil's beard took on a scragglier appearance, matching his overall ruffled look. Thomas growing out his beard had obviously reflected on his sides, but maintenance was still individual to each side for aesthetic purposes.
"Thank you, but unlike you, I do prefer to maintain my look as cleanly as possible." Virgil chuckled, not taking offence to the comment, understanding even from the blunt tone that that was not what the other meant.
Finally reaching Virgil's room, being the furthest from the stairs, Logan took in the familiar dark atmosphere. Purple LED lights were stuck to his walls, giving the room a warmer feel than the last time he had been in the other's room.
They wandered over to the ensuite bathroom and Logan noted the clutter in the room, not messy, but cluttered nonetheless. Virgil unhooked his clipper from its charging station and handed it to the logical side after making sure it was clean of any stray hair.
"Thank you." Virgil nodded and hopped up to sit on the counter, watching closely as Logan felt at his beard, pulling strands away and inspecting his skin. "I really should take a straight razor to the edges; it looks much too messy like this."
"I have one as well, you can use it here. Uh- if- only if you want, obviously." He muttered anxiously, looking away to avoid the other's eyes. Logan glanced over and smiled at him.
"That would be more convenient, I'd appreciate it." Virgil nodded and pulled his sleeves over his hands further, flitting his eyes to him again when he heard the buzz of the trimmer turn on.
Virgil sat entranced as Logan moved closer to the mirror to have the hairs drop in the sink, dragging the clipper over his cheek, catching those stray hairs that had begun to migrate a little too high. He watched the bob of Logan's Adam's apple as he swallowed, sliding the clipper edge over the skin a moment after.
Logan's face was focused and still, intent on not missing a single patch. He moved with such precision that Virgil shouldn't have been surprised at, but still. There was something hypnotising about watching his motions, similar to how someone would describe the effect of an ASMR video.
The satisfying scraping sound was like a balm to his constantly overwhelmed senses, and the silence that the two shared was something Virgil really came to appreciate when the two were alone. Patton and Roman were always welcome but tended to be loud and excited; Logan was that sweet calm presence that provided a solid bearing on a situation.
Virgil often thought about how many times Logan had been there when he was working himself and - by extension - Thomas into an anxiety or panic attack, and Logan's realistic comforts and grounding methods had saved him from falling into a cycle of misleading thoughts.
It was admittedly embarrassing to think about how vulnerable Logan had seen him, and weirdly, it itched at him much more than the concept of either Roman or Patton witnessing his 'moments'.
Internally, he felt bad - and obviously anxious - at the thought of holding favouritism. If the other two found out that he didn't enjoy their company as much, they would surely be heartbroken, or maybe he was exaggerating it slightly. Either way, the guilt ate at his stomach like a worm but felt so warm at the same time. It was infuriating.
Virgil also wasn't stupid. He knew the reasons behind his favouritism, and he had come to those terms long before he had even been accepted as one of the 'light' sides. Getting worked up about these concerns was just part of his nature, literally.
Watching the repetitive movement was relaxing, but he knew the real reason to his comfort was the side he was around. These softer moments were objectively intimate, and his appreciation for the other grew with every interaction.
The sound of the clipper stopped, and Virgil realised that he had zoned out while Logan was getting on with his business. The logical side's eyes were still locked onto the mirror, assessing his work and frowning at the messy edges.
"Looks good." Virgil remarked casually, leaning on one hand. "You still wanna take a straight razor to the edges?"
Logan sighed and nodded. "If you wouldn't mind. I have my own, but seeing as I'm already here..."
Virgil moved before Logan to vocalise any more hesitation. None of the sides were immune to their own anxieties despite that not being their primary role, and Virgil could recognise Logan's from a mile away by this point.
Logan stepped away as Virgil crouched to open up the cabinet below the sink, reaching for a fancy, fabric lined box that held his straight razor. He had rarely used it, so it sat collecting dust underneath his sink.
Virgil wordlessly placed the box in Logan's outstretched hand and hopped back up onto the counter.
"I'm surprised you own one of these, Virgil. I don't think I've ever known you to use one." Logan began, applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.
Virgil shrugged. "Remus gave it to me... as a gift, I guess? He said it doubled as a defence weapon in case someone tried to break into my room."
Logan paused, making eye contact with a raised eyebrow; the look unconsciously sent shivers down Virgil's back. "Remus gave it to you?"
"From before." Logan made a noise of understanding. 'Before' often meant the time when Virgil hadn't even been introduced to the 'light' sides. It was a well-known fact that their relationships had been better before Virgil had left the others, even if Remus had never not been unsettling to him.
Silence settled between the two once again as Logan focused back in on the mirror. Virgil let his eyes wander back over to the other side.
Despite all of them having the same face via Thomas, there were subtle differences between them all, especially easier to see when within the mindscape. Virgil's own eyes were purple and green in the right light, and his hair always had a shine of purple whether Thomas' hair was dyed or not.
Logan had his own set of differences. His eyes were a darker shade of brown, looking almost black if you stared long enough, and his jaw was slightly sharper than the others'.
Virgil realised about a minute into his admiring that he had been staring for a bit too long and looked away, not wanting Logan to notice and question his curiosity.
It led into a train of thinking that wondered what Logan would do if he knew about Virgil's feelings. Would he reciprocate? Probably not. But if he rejected him, how would he go about it? Would he bluntly answer and choose to ignore the feelings for the foreseeable future? Or would he be weirded out by Virgil's attraction to him and purposefully ignore his presence?
It was these thoughts that spurred Virgil to keep quiet about these kinds of things. He wasn't yearning on a desperate level, not to his knowledge, anyway, so he wasn't in a rush to confess. However, the idea of getting a reciprocal response filled him with a feeling he didn't often experience.
Butterflies.
As much as Virgil was anxiety, he encompassed other things such as pure adrenaline and the 'butterflies in the stomach' kind of feeling. He had caused Thomas to ignorantly ignore his concerns earlier in life, and it had not ended well.
For that reason, Virgil chose to keep quiet.
He was fine with sitting on his feelings for the rest of his life, if that was the case; he'd been doing it for years so far.
But still. Images of Logan sitting closer to him on movie nights and maybe holding his hand in moments of distress were addicting thoughts. Virgil wasn't often one for physical contact, but the idea of Logan administering it was exciting.
And there were the butterflies again; he really needed to zone back in.
Luckily, Logan's voice snapped him back to reality. "Shit..." Virgil's eyes cracked to attention immediately, hearing the waver in the other side's voice. Logan was brushing back his hair stressfully, and Virgil caught sight of the small cut on his cheek. He frowned at the cut for a second before realising that Logan's eyes had started to darken underneath.
Oh. Right.
Virgil hopped off of the counter, taking his straight razor from Logan's now shaking hands. "Sorry, should've realised this would happen." He mumbled, reaching a hand up to cup the other's neck. He glared at the cut. "It's not too bad; you want me to finish it in here? Or we can leave and you can do it in a bit."
Logan sighed in an attempt to regulate himself, his voice shaking for some reason; the effect of his room never made Logan's voice waver before, just his volume. "No. Just finish it here. I probably won't stop shaking for a good while anyway."
Virgil nodded with a wave of guilt. Sometimes he really hated his room. Sure, it was comforting to him, being everything he represented, but it meant that the others couldn't come into his room to chat like he could in theirs. He would sacrifice his whole aesthetic if it meant he could have some sense of normalcy.
Before he could sink further into his guilt, he picked the razor back up, keeping a hand on Logan's neck and a finger nudging his jaw to lean to the side. He did his best to keep his own hands from shaking as well; being so close to someone with a sharp point wasn't something he, as the embodiment of anxiety, was particularly comfortable with.
However, Logan's breaths were heaving harder and harder by the minute, and Virgil knew not to drag this out any longer than he wanted to. He'd rather get Logan out of his room as quickly as possible.
He was only a small section away from finishing up when the other spoke up. "Virgil..." Logan muttered, lifting a hand to suddenly grasp the side of Virgil's jacket. The latter said nothing, focused on finishing quickly. "Virgil." He said, firmer this time.
"I'm almost done, hold on for a quick second. Keep holding me if you need to." He muttered back, turning Logan's jaw the other way to clean up the line as a final touch. Logan's Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow and his other hand lifted to Virgil's shoulder, gripping the fabric with more trembles.
"There, you're done. Now, lets-"
A pair of lips crashed into his mid-sentence. His lungs stopped working. The edges of his vision began to fade purple as his eyeshadow lightened. The straight razor fell to the ground with a sharp clatter.
Logan's hands were clutching his jacket like it was the only thing keeping him conscious. He pulled back, and Virgil was still frozen in shock. "I apologise. I do. It's just that the effect of the room had thoughts going through my head as a fast rate, and all I could do was think about how I would never get to tell you my feelings if I didn't do it soon.
"I didn't think to ask your consent, and I am truly sorry. But my body seemed to move faster than my thoughts, it seems. Please forgive me, I can't-" Logan's anxious rambling came to a halt when Virgil's mouth interrupted his words.
Virgil's mind had only slipped back into reality halfway through Logan's rant, but he had understood enough and gave into the blood rushing in his ears.
The hand that had been firmly gripping around his waist slipped up his back as Logan leaned further forward, his jaw working stiffly as they kissed, bodies leaning into one another, melding together at the seams.
The anxiety that naturally coursed through Virgil's mind slowed to a gentle hum, relaxing into the feel of the other's lips against his. His hands had naturally gravitated to wrap around's Logan's neck, brushing the hairs on his neck and tracing the edge of his shirt collar.
His left hand wandered down, sliding to touch Logan's neck, feeling at his pulse and noticing how fast it was beating. He grinned into the kiss and pushed apart from the other side, glancing at his dark under-eyes.
"Don't apologise, though I'm sure that you've realised that that would be pointless." Logan nodded and gulped. "Now. Your pulse is too quick and you're one minute away from slipping into an anxiety attack, so let's go to your room to talk. Sound good?"
Logan blinked and reached up to feel his own pulse, his eyes widening. He nodded and both sunk into Logan's room, the even lighting of the room blinding Virgil for a second after being in his own low-lit bathroom for so long.
Logan seemed to realise how they were standing and cleared his throat, stepping back. Virgil let go easily, letting the other side have some space after so much in one go. Logan collapsed into his desk chair, watching as Virgil leaned against the wall, his cheeks lighting up pink as he properly realised what had just happened.
"I... I would apologise for my misdeeds, but, as you said before, I've come to the quick realisation that that isn't necessary." Virgil nodded, letting him talk. "The anxiety must've overcome me and the possibilities of myself never confessing got the best of me. I acted without thinking. I can't imagine that it was that romantic, though that's not really my area of expertise."
Virgil smiled and shuffled closer, offering his hand out to Logan, knowing too much contact would be too much at the moment. Logan took it without hesitation, however. "I got the gist, don't worry. Besides, I didn't really have a big plan for a romantic confession either - didn't really think I'd ever act on it, really - romance isn't my area either."
Logan smiled at him, staying silent for the moment. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the back of Virgil's hand, thinking to himself. "I didn't think this kind of thing could really happen, seeing as we aren't real outside of Thomas' imagination."
Virgil shifted anxiously, but not in the way that he did when he was uncomfortable, just thinking. "Eh, wouldn't it kinda be considered, like, self-love, or something...?" He joked, and Logan huffed.
"Yes. I suppose you could frame it that way. Though it would only be self-love in regards to Thomas. In regards to ourselves, however, I suppose it'd just be love." He stated factually, and something in Virgil's chest jumped at the word 'love'.
Despite that, he nodded and smiled, glancing down at their joined hands. "So... how do we do this?"
Logan blinked at the question, at the same time taking a split second to stare at the purple underneath the other side's eyes before answering back. "What do you mean? I suppose we would do all the things couples generally do, if both of us are comfortable with said things."
Virgil shrugged, not moving his hand. "Yeah, I get that. But... like, do we... tell the others...? Would they even understand? I mean, in retrospect, it is kinda weird. Not that I think you're weird, or whatever this is... but-"
"Virgil." Logan interrupted softly, and the other stopped. "We don't have to tell the others if either of us don't want to. If it makes you more comfortable, I don't personally feel the need to inform the others. To my knowledge, I'm not one that's particularly enticed by the idea of public displays of affection."
Virgil sighed and nodded. "Okay. Yeah, I'm not too buzzed about the idea of PDA either. Good to know we agree on that." He took a calming breath, smiling at the squeeze of approval he received from the logical side. "So, we keep it a secret? Doesn't that feel a bit... wrong?"
Logan tilted his head from side to side, weighing his response. "I don't suppose so. There are many couples that keep their relationship status from others, and majority of the time others do not seem to mind. If it makes you more comfortable, we can inform the others, but if not, it is perfectly acceptable that we keep this between ourselves."
Virgil cleared his throat and nodded, feeling his heart calm to its usual default pace. "I'm okay with keeping this between us. But maybe it can be less of a secret, and more of something we just don't tell them."
"You mean that if they ask, we don't deny?"
"Exactly. Then it's not a secret, just something they don't know about us."
"That's perfectly fine with me, Virgil. As long as you are comfortable, I am comfortable." Virgil scoffed and pulled back his hand, gently hitting Logan on the shoulder.
"Shut up, you sap."
"It would be impossible for me to be made up of sap. I'm not even physical as it is." Logan responded while smirking, showing Virgil that he knew exactly what he was saying. The anxious side huffed out a laugh.
"Purple really is your colour." Logan mumbled, bringing back that gorgeous shade of pink on his now-partner's cheeks.
Oh, how he'd enjoy getting to see that sight all to himself.