Work Text:
Get a load of this trainwreck, his hair’s a mess and he doesn’t know who he is yet…
Virgil looked up from his stream at the loud bang of the front door slamming shut, watching Roman storm in and flop into the couch with a dramatic, annoyed groan.
He paused the game and came up beside his fiance on the couch, running a hand through their recently dyed hair. “Hard day?” He asked softly, not wanting to overwhelm him.
“You have no idea.” Roman mumbled from the couch cushions, but still leaning into Virgil’s hand in his hair gratefully.
“Wanna talk about it?” Virgil asked, trying to figure out what kind of breakdown this was. If this was Rachel’s bigoted ass again, he was going to highly consider throwing hands with the bitch.
“Well for starters, Sarah put me on the floor all day today, even after I told her I couldn’t stand for that long! Silas pulled up to my shift today, and not only did he interrogate Ashley about where I was, he literally camped outside for an hour before I left! ” They huffed, turning over to glare at the ceiling, gesturing wildly with their hands as he ranted. “And on top of it all, I started my period today with absolutely nothing in my bag and bled through my khakis.”
Virgil hummed sympathetically, pulling Roman to his chest. They melted into the hold, curling up quietly. Virgil was cis, he could never empathize with his partner’s pain, especially on top of the dysphoria, but he always did his best to comfort them.
“Tea?” He offered, moving to stand, but felt himself pulled back down by cold hands.
“No way, scaramore. You’ve been commandeered as a heating pad.” Roman protested, causing Virgil to laugh and pull the prince tighter, wrapping a weighted blanket around them both.
The silence that followed was a familiar kind, but a comfortable one, usually punctuated by the quiet boil of the kettle, or Virgil’s idle humming of whatever show he was into now. An imperfect scene, but a perfect one, at all the same time.
“Maybe a little tea would be nice.” Roman amended quietly, releasing Virgil from their apparent death grip.
Virgil laughed, stretching and standing before walking off to the kitchen, feeling his boyfriend’s eyes on him as he walked away. “Take a picture nerd, it’ll last longer.” He teased, and Roman looked away quickly, as if they hadn’t already been caught.
He returned 10 minutes later with tea. Lemon ginger with downright sinful amounts of honey and sugar, in Virgil’s opinion. He set it down on the coffee table, resettling his partner in his arms, who made noises of happy contentment in response.
“You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack one day with those things.” Virgil said, watching Roman sip at their tea, who rolled their eyes predictably.
“It’s really not that much sugar, you’re just dramatic. And a total snob about tea, I might add.” They snarked, poking Virgil in the chest, who gasped in mock offense.
“I am not a tea snob. I let you use a microwave to make your tea water for a whole three months before making you get a kettle, thank you very much. Plus I’m not nearly as bad as Janus. Have you seen his collection of Earl Grays?” Virgil asked, a touch of genuine envy in his voice.
Roman snorted, nearly spitting out the hot drink. “I’m sorry, are you jealous of Janus’ tea collection right now? I thought you were the one dating a total nerd, not me.”
Virgil stuttered, flabbergasted. “What, I’m not- I’m not jealous! That’s crazy! I would never- I would never-”
“Of course love.” Roman soothed, cutting off their boyfriend’s offended rant. “You would never. Never even dream of it, hm?”
Virgil huffed, but kissed his boyfriend on the head. “‘M not jealous.” He mumbled under his breath, enticing another laugh from Roman, who buried deeper into his arms.
“Nerd.”
“Dork.”
Roman woke up in pain.
That wasn’t exactly new, they woke up in pain nearly every morning, compliments of his hypermobility, but this was the horrible, crippling, stabbing pain of his uterus deciding it was now his time to die as punishment for not producing a child.
They looked over at the clock on him and Virgil’s night stand.
2:27 AM.
He groaned softly. He’d never get back to sleep like this, and they certainly couldn’t get to the Midol or their heating pad without waking Virgil. They grabbed a pillow by his head and curled around it, desperate for any sense of relief from the pain, which barely came.
Endometriosis was a bitch.
Maybe, he thought, hopefully, he could find a way to stab his uterus back. Give it the punishment it deserved for 13 years of this bullshit.
Another stab shot through him and they curled inwards, doing his best not to cry out aloud. If they woke Virgil the day before his competition, they’d never forgive themself.
He sat there for what felt like hours, wondering how long it could take for him to black out from the pain. He should really consider writing his will about now. A very reasonable course of action, and not at all overdramatic, he reassured himself as he tossed and turned.
The time was actually passing rather quickly. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad of a night after all. Maybe they wouldn’t even need Midol.
2:29 AM
Yeah fuck that.
They flipped over onto their stomach, doing his best to slowly creep out of bed, eyes trained on Virgil’s face, watching for any sign he’d woken them.
He breathed a sigh of relief when they’d successfully gotten out of bed without waking his boyfriend, now slowly creeping towards the bathroom.
“Ro?” A sleepy voice mumbled from their bed.
Shit.
He leaned against the wall, doing their best to hide the amount of pain they were in. They didn’t want Virgil to worry. “Go back to bed, love. I’m just getting some water.”
Virgil rubbed his eyes, squinting blearily. “You’re gripping the nightstand like it owes you money.”
Roman looked down and saw the snitch to his perfectly crafted lie, seeing his own hand essentially white knuckling the bedside table. Traitor. “Oh, well…” His voice trailed off, not able to find an excuse.
Virgil’s forehead creased with concern and he sat up, looking much more awake now. “Lay back down. I’ll get your heating pad.” He kissed Roman on the forehead as he passed, which put a pang of guilt into Roman’s heart. Of course Virgil was worried about them, even when it was leagues more important for him to get rest before his circuit tomorrow.
When Virgil returned, Roman was curled quietly around a pillow again, very poorly hiding the fact he was near tears.
“Touch okay?” He asked quietly as he plugged in the device, and Roman nodded a bit too quickly, showing Virgil this was a lot worse than his partner was letting on. He crawled into the bed behind them, spooning them against his chest as he pretended not to listen to their quiet tears, feeling the way he practically clung to him.
“Hey.” Virgil murmured quietly a few minutes later, grabbing Roman’s hand and pulling them to face him.
“Hey.” Roman whispered back, giving his boyfriend a watery smile at the motion.
“What kinda tears are these?” He asked softly, a regular routine for them. It always hurt him to see his boyfriend cry, and he’d do anything to make it better for them.
“It’s just… boys don’t bleed, y’know? More evidence I’ll never be anything more than a girl playing dress up.” Roman laughed self depreciatingly and Virgil’s face fell.
“Don’t be ridiculous, princey.” Virgil said, cupping his face in his hands and rubbing his thumb against their cheek, brushing away the tears. “You’re a boy through and through. Handsome and nerdy and my boyfriend for as long as you’ll have me.”
“I’ll have you forever, idiot.” They said, covering their face with his hands to hide the newly gathering tears in their eyes, but found his hands gently removed by Virgil, who just smiled at him with all the gentleness in the world.
“And not only are you such an amazingly handsome boyfriend,” He continued, tracing a hand down their face, kissing the sparkled tears out of their eyes. “But you’re very masculine. Always have been in my eyes. And to anyone with sense.”
Roman laughed, burying their face in his boyfriend’s scent to hide their crying. “Gods, you’re such a dork, you know that?”
“Your dork.” Virgil corrected, kissing the top of his head affectionately.
Roman didn’t go back to sleep for the night. Rarely could when that happened. But they didn’t cry in their own self deprecation for the rest of the night, instead simply existing in the arms of his lover.
…But little did he know the stars, welcomed him with open arms.