Roman had taken Thomas home and now, Virgil had to face him.

He followed Roman like a lost puppy, unsure of what else he was supposed to do.

Roman reached into a drawer, pulling out a pair of plaid, red pants and a shirt. "Here. You can wear these for the night." He handed them over. "I'll take the couch and you can stay in my bed."

"I-I... No, I-I couldn't let... No." Virgil glanced behind him. "No, I'll-I'll take the couch."

"That won't work either."

Virgil sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed. He stared at the clothes in his hands as he wondered aloud, "Why am I being so awkward around you? You know things about me some of my closest friends don't even know, and it never bothered me before."

Suddenly, it hit him.

"Prince... Roman, when you saw my face, were you disappointed?" He finally looked up.

"No, of course not! Why would I be disappointed? Really, I knew you—the real you—whether I knew your face or not." He walked closer, towering over Virgil, who leaned back slightly. "How could I possibly be disappointed when you are absolutely beautiful?" Roman leaned in, planting his lips on the other's.

Virgil grabbed Princey's shirt. He fell back onto the bed, holding Roman close.

Roman pulled away. "Why don't we share the bed, then."

Virge glanced down at the position they were in: Roman between his legs, hovering over him and effectively pinning him down.

The door opened. "Roman, I'm going to-"

Princey quickly jumped back. "Dad!"

He held up his hand. "Don't; just don't. I'm too tired for this; I'm going to bed." He glared at the two. "No funny business tonight, alright?"

"Yes, sir," Virge squeaked.

Roman chuckled. "Nighty-night, Dad."

He looked between them again before slipping out, leaving the door open this time.

Virgil buried his head in his hands, his cheeks burning. "That was so embarrassing!"

Roman laughed and patted his shoulder. "I'll leave you to get dressed." He left, closing the door behind him.

Virgil stood, fiddling with the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. He looked up at the mirror over the dresser and turned around, inspecting the parts of his back that hurt. "Yep," he whispered as he pressed against a mark on his shoulder, "that's definitely going to bruise." He took off his pants, too, then put on Roman's clothing.

---

Virgil couldn't sleep. Roman's bed was softer than his own and it felt foreign--uncomfortable. When he was sure the other teen was asleep, he stopped pretending. He sat up, staring into the darkness of the room.

Now what? Virgil ruffled his bangs. He wanted to be home; even if his home wasn't pleasant, at least he could sleep.

Roman shifted and Virgil froze. In the darkness, his face tightened. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, letting out a scream. He gasped for air.

Virgil acted immediately, scooting in front of Roman. He looked into the other's eyes as he reached for his hands. "Hey, hey, you're alright."

Princey's eyes were frantic. He pulled his left hand away, his fingers glancing over his throat. "That-That's a first." He breathed deeply, shaking ever-so-slightly.

Virge cocked his head. "What's a first? What's going on?"

"I've had that dream before but never-never like that." His breathing was still heavy. "Jesus..."

Virgil pulled Roman into a hug; it felt nice and warm. "We're both pretty fucked up, arent' we...?" He laughed dryly, feeling the wound on his head throbbing as a reminder.

Roman nodded. "Let's go back to sleep." He pulled Virgil backward, snuggling him against his chest.

Virge sighed, nuzzling his face into Roman's neck. This was better--warm, muscular, yet surprisingly comfy. Yes, he could get used to this.