Pairing(s): Prinxiety, background Logicality, platonic LAMP, and platonic LAMP/Remy/Deceit

Warnings: Strong language, mention of drunk driving, mention of traffic accidents, mention of illness, and arguing (?)

Note: This is a fic based on a post by @glitteryssahotchner on tumblr. I copied any lines from the script of 'Much Ado About Nothing' from a specific website, so I'm sorry if anything is spelled wrong or if the grammar is incorrect. I've checked it myself, but it's old English, so I know that certain words were probably spelled differently, but I'm not sure how to spell them. Also, I like the idea of Roman being Spanish, but I don't speak the language, so I'm sorry if the few words I did use aren't used incorrectly. Hope you enjoy!
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Sometimes Virgil wonders why he ever joined the theater.

Not as an actor. No, he doesn't quite have the confidence to take on such an attention-receiving role just yet. But he, with the desperation of a debt-riddled university graduate, had allowed his best friend Patton Montgomery to convince his employer to give him a job. He had attended a decent art school, gotten his bachelor's degree, and offered to show Logan a portfolio of this work. And, as a result, had been given a job painting backgrounds.

In that time, he had been given other jobs to do such as making props and designing costumes. Once he realised that he had quite the knack for sewing, Virgil felt his anxiety slowly simmer down to a dull ache in his stomach and chest. And along with the simmering of his anxiety, his friendship with Logan grew. With every single teasing insult and witty side-comment, he became more and more confident that he could call his manager to help hide a body.

Sometimes Virgil wonders why Logan ever gave him the job.

Then, he remembers that Patton has him wrapped around each and every finger on both hands.

Of course, Patton had prepared him for the bright and excitable personalities already working at the theater, as well as those with absolutely no shame whatsoever. However, he and Patton have been friends for many years, so Virgil was already very much used to bubbly personalities. But nothing could have ever prepared him for Roman De Santos.

Ten minutes late, as per usual, his familiar form, bursting with colour, marches through the door, a big toothy grin tugging at his lips. "Good morning, peasants! What's on the agenda for today?"

"You fucking off for a start," Virgil mumbles, being forever grateful that Logan shares his disliking of the actor, and simply huffs out a laugh at his comment.

Unfortunately, Roman has the hearing of a bat and arches an eyebrow at the artist, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "What was that, Charlie Mean?"

Virgil sighs at the nickname—truly, not one of his best—and keeps his gaze down on the fabric in his hands. He doesn't feel like arguing with the actor today; getting to sleep at 4AM and waking up at 8AM had not been a fun way to start his day.

Thinking he's won whatever squabble they were about to have, Roman nods once and grins, spotting Patton standing on the stage just behind Virgil. "Patton! How are you today? And how is your mother? You said you were visiting her, right?"

"Yup," Patton smiles warmly back at his friend and briefly summarises how his trip went, his smile only widening at Roman's seemingly genuine interest in his mother's well-being. "What about your grandmother? Didn't you say she was helping you take care of your mother for a while?"

Roman nods, though his smile feels a little more strained. It makes Virgil's stomach twist uncomfortably, but he says nothing. He and Roman aren't really friends, after all; it'd be a bit weird for him to suddenly start taking an interest in his home life. "They're both doing a lot better. Abuelita feels that it's necessary for her to stay for another week or so," he rolls his eyes and his smile grows fonder, more genuine, "she's a worrier. Sweet, but constantly getting herself worked up over insignificant things."

'Sounds familiar,' Virgil can't help but think as he smooths out the white cotton his fingers. He tilts his head to the right a little and begins to wonder whose costume he'll be designing next, and for which character.

After another few minutes of chattering, Remy arrives, a cardboard box the size of the back of one of the theater chairs in his arms. He hands it to Logan, receiving a mutter of thanks before taking a seat beside Virgil, who offers him a small smile. Logan sits on a chair placed in the middle of the stage after handing out a book to each member of the cast, tech group, and other members of the stage crew; his face falling into an indifferent expression as he waits patiently for the quiet whispers to hush. "Our performance this time is Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothing'. Truly, a classic."

He pauses for a moment to allow his theater crew to look over the script and think about what jobs they will need to do. "Before anyone asks, I do already have an idea of who I'd like to play each role. However, if those people are unfit for the position, then more auditions will be held. Understood?"

The cast members all nod in agreement and settle into a mellow thrum of conversation.

Virgil will probably never admit this to anyone, but he strongly admires how Logan knows his cast so well that he already knows who will be best to play different characters. Virgil will probably never admit this to anyone, but he strongly admires how Logan knows his cast so well that he already knows who will be best to play each character. He reads over the list of characters written at the back of the book and hums lowly; there aren't too many roles, so he shouldn't have too much of a hard time designing the costumes.

They manage to read through act one in just under half an hour and take a five-minute break. Virgil sits with Patton and Remy, as usual, and pays no attention, or at least he tries to pay no attention, the familiar bellowing voice chatting with Logan at the other side of the stage. "So, your mom's doing a little better now?"

At the sudden question, Patton's head snaps up and he smiles, reminding Virgil of fairy lights on a Christmas tree. "Yeah! She's going to have to use her cane for a while longer, but the doctors say she's recovering at a healthy pace, so I have nothing to worry about and neither does she."

"Good," Virgil replies, a grimace pulling at his lips, "that dick-head drunk driver has what's coming to her."

Patton smiles a little more sadly over at his friend and sighs. "Language, Virge. And I'm trying to forgive her for the whole thing, she does feel bad, you know?"

Virgil huffs and glowers, staring down at the floor intently. "And? She should know better."

People make mistakes, but he cares for Patton's mother as if she were his own and getting a phone call from a sobbing Patton certainly wasn't something he ever wanted to experience. Patton sighs again and his smile fades into his cheeks. "Forgive and let it go, bud."

That conversation ends there.

Remy begins to tell them the tale of a woman at his old workplace stealing sugar packets as a way to get fired, and by the end of it, Virgil is muffling snickers behind his hand whilst Patton is no longer even sitting up. They chat more about nothing important until Logan calls for them to continue reading the script.

Unfortunately, there is a little more chatter in between reading lines, so the entire crew gets through act two in just over forty minutes. At this point, Logan is so irritated at their chatter that he instructs them to read through at least half of act three before having their lunch break.

Reading through to the end of act three scene two only takes half an hour, everyone's stomachs pleading for them to just be quiet and read the damn script.

Lunch passes and they read through the next two acts as quickly as they can, so Logan can finally let the crew know who he'd like to play each role. "For Don Pedro, I believe that Terrence will play him well. Claudio is a character I struggled with, as I was unsure whether Roman, with his hopeless romanticism, would suit this role. However, I think that Davide is a better fit. Valerie, I'd like you to be our Hero, does that bode well with you?"

At her eager nod, he continues. "Benedick, I believe, should be played by Roman."

With his usual teasing grin, Roman turns to his employer from the edge of the stage. "Ooo, why did you choose me for this role, Specs?"

"Because you're a dick."

Virgil doesn't even realise he's spoken until a group of laughs and chuckles erupt from each side of the stage. In front of him, Patton is trying to decide whether he's proud of his friend for making a dad joke, or whether he's disappointed at his profanity and rudeness.

Roman merely huffs out a laugh and places a hand on his chest, expression feigning offence. "Excuse me? Look who's talking, Johnny Depressed. You insult me, even as I sit here minding my own business."

When Virgil rolls his eyes and tries to keep any further insults to himself, the triumphant smirk on Roman's face widens. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Soon enough, Virgil's patience snaps and he, without thinking, responds in a somehow sharp mumble. "A cat of my tongue is better than a beast of yours."

Logan covers his mouth and nose as he snorts, turning his face away from his employees, attempting to seem as indifferent as possible. Beside the former art student, Remy grins and places his Starbucks coffee cup on the stage floor next to his leg. "If only you were an actor; you'd be the perfect Beatrice."

It's at this moment that Logan turns back around in an eerily slow manoeuvre, eyes wide with intrigue. But before he can say a single word, Virgil is shaking his head. "No."

"You don't even know what I was going to suggest."

"I'm not being in the production."

Logan shakes his head softly. "I wouldn't insist that you do something like that, Virgil." He glances at Brittany for a few seconds before looking back at him. "Actually, I'd like for Brittany to be Beatrice, but since she's going to be away for the last week before the show, I was going to suggest that you take her place in rehearsals. Roman will still need someone to practice lines with, after all."

In a movement so quick that Virgil feels the room spin around him, Roman rises to his feet and spins to face his employer. "I'd rather rehearse with a human-sized cockroach than with him!"

Ignoring whatever it is that leaves an uncomfortable pang in his chest, Virgil snorts and raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you run through lines in front of the mirror?"

"Shut up, Tinkersmell!"

"Ouch," he clutches his chest weakly and freezes his facial expression into one of nonchalance, "I'm hurt."

After receiving a huff of irritation in return, Virgil rolls his eyes and looks at where Logan is standing over Roman's shoulder. "But yeah, I wouldn't make a good Beatrice for one reason and one reason only: Beatrice falls in love with Benedick, which I'm not going to do. Believe me."

Roman sends him a heated glare over his shoulder and Virgil offers him a wink in return. The actor immediately turns away, face flushed in anger (probably) and once again, insists that Virgil not stand in as Beatrice.

Soon, however, Logan's eyes glint with something almost foreign to his personality. "Enough." His tone is clipped and even Remy flinches back. "You're both being ridiculous, juvenile, and quite frankly, pathetic. Virgil, you don't have to read lines if the job makes you uncomfortable, but it would be very helpful if you did. And Roman, stop acting like a child and accept the fact that you are going to have to work with people you don't get along with. Both of you need to accept that, eventually."

Virgil sighs. "Fine, I'll do it. It's just for a week."

Logan's eyes soften, and he nods a thank you to Virgil before Roman groans, catching his attention. "You will cooperate and stop being so melodramatic. Are we clear?"

Tone leaving no room for argument, Logan watches Roman nod reluctantly and reads out the rest of the roles. Once he finishes, he allows everyone to leave, reminding them on their way out to be at the theatre at 10AM on the dot the next day.

As he packs away the few things he brought with him, Virgil looks up at Patton, his heart relaxing at the sight of a knowing smile. "I'm just going to talk to Logan for a sec, okay? You can just wait for me outside."

"Finally going to ask him out?"

A smirk adorns his features as he watches Patton laugh fondly, cheeks gradually heating up until he shoos his friend off the stage. As Virgil leans against the wall outside, he notices Roman talking to someone on the phone. His lips are twisted in a worried frown, which, for some reason, just doesn't look right. The chestnut eyes that usually burn through him, leaving hollow feelings of resentment, are trained on the pavement below him.

When his conversation ends, he sighs softly and drags a hand down his face, the frustration leaving fiery red marks on his skin. Without the intention of ever doing so, his gaze flickers over to where Virgil is standing. Instead of the usual scornful look Virgil would send him, he smiles sympathetically and feels something in his chest warm up at the smile he receives in return.

And, with the turn of an ignition key, he's gone.
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"Shit."

Virgil groans in frustration as he frantically scatters sheets across a desk in the back room. At the beginning of each production, he measures each actor in order to write down the correct measurements for their costume, and just because God seems to hate him, he's lost Roman's.

He sighs heavily and listens in through the wall; they're running through the lines of act three, scene two. 'Don John', or Leo, is telling Terrence and Davide about Valerie's (Hero's) apparent disloyalty. This scene has always churned Virgil's stomach. But, he has to admit, the wedding scene is much, much worse.

Waiting to hear Logan's voice once again, he sluggishly makes his way over to the stage and gestures to his employer in an attempt to get his attention. Once he has it, he nods vaguely in Roman's direction. "Have you seen the sheet with Roman's measurements on it? I had it in my bag and it's just disappeared; I can't design and make his costume without it."

Logan frowns, humming to himself and closing his eyes. "I'm afraid I haven't. Could you take his measurements again?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, Virgil holds back a sigh or a sarcastic quip and nods, glancing over to Roman, who rolls his eyes and heads over to the artist, following him into the back room. Once they're inside, he comments about Virgil's clumsiness and how he needs to take better care of his possessions. Virgil merely rolls his eyes and instructs him to stand in a starfish pose. Taking the measurements of the actors is always his least favourite part of the job—too much physical contact. It's a mystery how Roman just stands there as if he's waiting in line at the supermarket. "If you could hurry this up, that would be great."

Virgil's eyes are actually beginning to hurt with how much he's rolling them today. "I'm pretty sure they're not going to continue a scene where you're a main character without you, dumbass."

"Yeah, well—"

"Alright, I'm done. Fuck off."

Eyes widening, Roman glances down at the notepad Virgil's holding and sees that, yes, his measurements have actually been written down. He flounders for a moment, gaze flickering to look at different objects around the room. "Wait- Are you sure? They're definitely accurate?"

At his question, Virgil's brain screeches to a halt. Are they? He did take them rather quickly. Maybe he should double check and pace himself this time. "Uh- Yeah, but do you mind if I double check?"

Roman's shoulders deflate, but he doesn't look genuinely angry or disappointed. He's smiling, actually. "Of course! We don't want my costume to be too tight or too loose, do we? Logan would most likely just make you design the whole costume again, and we don't want that."

That smile. Something about it relaxes the tension in Virgil's shoulders, and he finds that a light feeling in his chest is heating up his cheeks, which he tries to hide by ducking his head. As he wraps the tape measure around the actor's chest, he tries not to focus on how his gaze is burning through his skull. Why is he staring? He should say something.

Why isn't he saying anything?

His eyes are pinning the artist in place, forcing his stare down onto the black numbers and lines that stand out on the yellow tape measure. He suddenly needs a drink. Or maybe drowning himself would be more effective in cooling his face down. Either way, he just can't gather the courage to look up at the actor. "Uh- I got the bust right. I just need to measure your waist, hips, arms, and legs now. Is that cool?"

Roman nods. He says nothing.

As he loops the measuring tape around his right arm, Virgil figures he'll try to lighten the mood. "You're not talking much, Princey. That's pretty weird, don't you think?"

"Hm. You aren't speaking either, Virgil."

Hearing his name spoken in the familiar rich voice of the infuriating actor he's known for the past two years, Virgil can't stop the shiver that runs down his back. His face pinches up in distaste. Why is he getting so worked over a guy saying his name? Gross, man.

He shrugs. "Maybe the fact that you've been staring at me has something to do with that."

"Why?" Roman sounds much smugger than he should be. "Do I make you nervous?"

Virgil's body goes rigid at his question, slipping the tape measure from around Roman's left leg. "Stop inflating that gargantuan ego of yours, Roman. There. I'm finished."

With a nod of thanks, Roman heads towards the door, turning back for a second to catch Virgil's attention before leaving. "You didn't deny it."

Shit.

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Soon enough, the costumes are made, and the collection of props is almost complete. Rehearsal has just finished, so Virgil decides that now is a good time to ensure that the costumes are hung in the right place. Alphabetically, because if not, then Logan will have a tantrum.

When he fixes the few mistakes in the alphabetical order of costumes, he heads back out, intent on going home and binging Brooklyn Nine Nine until he passes out. He has ready meals, cooking one up wouldn't be much trouble. But before he can even leave the stage, he spots a figure lying down spread eagle in the middle of it. What the fuck?

"What're you doing here?"

Roman pushes himself up onto his forearms, meeting Virgil's gaze for a second before averting his eyes and lying back down. "Counting."

Narrowing his eyes, Virgil feels an uncomfortable weight drop from his chest to his stomach. He hums curiously and moves to sit down a foot or two away from the actor, watching how his features are not quite relaxed, but from far away, they would definitely look it. Roman really is a good actor. "Counting what?"

"The tiles on the ceiling," he replies quietly, "I'm up to forty-seven. Want to count with me?"

A strange offer, but it's so strange that Virgil slowly lays down beside him and gazes up at the roof. One. Two. Three. Four. "Why are you counting the tiles?"

Roman shrugs stiffly. "I heard it's a good way to ground yourself."

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. "Yeah, that's true."

Nine. Ten- "You want to talk about it?"

There's an uneasy silence before Virgil hears the fabric of Roman's shirt crinkling slightly. "Abuelita doesn't think my mother has much time left."

Immediately, Virgil stiffens and rolls onto his side to look at Roman's face. It's blank. Cold. Virgil doesn't like it whatsoever. But he doesn't know what to say.

"She's got a heart disease that I don't really want to explain right now, if that's okay." At Virgil's nod, he sighs softly. "I just want to pretend that it doesn't exist for a while. I know I can't escape the inevitable, but would it be bad to distract myself from it for an hour or so?"

Virgil shakes his head and shuffles a little bit closer to him. "You're allowed to do that. But remember that it's, uh... it's okay to be sad too. I'm pretty sure Logan would understand if you needed to take a day off for mental health reasons, so don't be afraid to ask him for one." He wants to say more, to do more, but all he can do is brush their shoulders together in a somewhat comforting action. "What you're feeling isn't stupid. And, as long as it's healthy, you can use whatever coping mechanism works for you."

When Roman doesn't respond, he takes a peek at his expression and frowns. The actor is staring behind him, trying to will away the burning behind his eyes, so Virgil pretends not to notice. Roman has a pretty big ego, and Virgil doesn't want to damage the pride he's desperately trying to keep intact. "You know what else is a good coping mechanism? Naming colours. I do that when I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

Roman hums in response, but somehow, Virgil just knows he's smiling.

"How many tiles are you up to now?"

A pause. "I lost count."

Virgil chuckles warmly. "Don't worry about it. I forgot to even start counting."

The laugh that bounces off the walls of the room reminds Virgil of honey, and maybe a semi-cloudy day. But that's okay. He doesn't like to be too hot, anyway.

___

Weeks have passed, and Virgil is repairing a tear in Roman's costume. Only God knows how he managed to rip the fabric. He's sitting at a table, sewing machine sitting atop it, in a small room just behind the 'backstage'.

"You're being serious?! He actually said that?"

"I assure you, Patton. Roman told me yesterday of his romantic feelings towards Virgil."

Wait- What the fuck?!

Virgil blames the ridiculously thin walls for his discovery at 11:24AM. If they were built a little thicker, maybe he wouldn't be questioning his entire life right now! How could Roman like him?!

Somehow, he manages to convince himself that the hammering in his chest is panic. He doesn't feel that way about Roman, what's he supposed to do?!

Fanning his face with the script sitting nearby, he takes a deep breath and desperately attempts to ignore the fact that, yes, his face is definitely the brightest shade of red that has ever existed. He just has to keep as quiet as possible. He just has to listen.

"Okay, so what did he say exactly? Maybe you misunderstood him?" Smart Patton.

"Oh, definitely not," Logan replies with a laugh, "he called me at some ungodly hour of the morning panicking. Babbling on, saying, 'oh but what if he doesn't like me back?!' and 'what if I'm not enough for him?!' Truly, unlike him."

Yeah. Very unlike him.

Virgil bites the inside of his cheek, feeling amusement and a hollow echo of something else in his stomach as he tiptoes towards the doorway. He hears a muffled giggle and a 'shush'. Absolute (adorable) morons.

He decides to wait for a moment before busting them. What other lies will they tell? And will anything they say ease this uneasy pain in his chest?

Logan continues. "Really, I've never known Roman to be so infatuated with someone before."

Patton's tone grows fond. "You've known him for a while, right?"

"Oh, uh, since we were children, yes."

A grin stretches across Virgil's face as he hears the voice of his favourite 'robot' increase in pitch but decrease in volume, a shaky edge to it. For a moment, he wonders why. Maybe it's the smile Patton reserves just for him that he thinks Virgil hasn't noticed. He has.

When they don't say anything for another minute or so, he rushes forward and throws the door open, relishing the shrieks that spill into the dark room. He snorts and tries to stifle it with his hand, but by the embarrassed glare being sent his way by his favourite 'robot', he's failed miserably.

"Were you guys really trying to pull a 'Much Ado About Nothing' on me?"

Logan sighs as Patton tries to grip the last shreds of this plan they have left. But when he sees the arched eyebrow on his best friend's face, he frowns and deflates. "Poo."

The two of them apologise for trying to 'trick' Virgil and the artist just rolls his eyes. "Why the hell did you think that would work on me?"

"It worked on Roman."

If Virgil ever needed a story to tell at dinner parties, he'd just pick out this moment. The moment his heart completely shut down and froze in his chest. "What?"

Seeing the panic and genuine hope in Virgil's eyes, Logan smiles somewhat smugly and nods. "He overheard us conversating about your romantic feelings for him. His reaction was rather amusing, actually."

"How?"

He can't breathe. Is this actually happening right now?

"There was a nasty thud from the stage and we heard him monologuing to himself as we made our way out of the theatre."

Holy fuck. "Oh. Well, that doesn't mean he–"

Logan sighs and explains that the actor was practically quoting Benedick's epiphany monologue from actual play. Oh God. "Roman likes me."

Sliding down the wall, Virgil stares at the velvet curtains in front of him and feels a shiver run up and down his back at the cold floor he lands on. Logan and Patton swiftly sit down in front of him and ensure that he's not genuinely panicking before relaxing. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

His voice is almost a whisper, and the familiar warm hand on his shoulder is the only way he's able to ground himself. "I'm no good with feelings. I don't know how I feel. We've hated each other for so long, like, what the fuck, dude?"

Patton smiles sadly. "Why do you think we did this?"

Before either of them can continue Patton's point, Virgil feels his chest bubble with something he rarely ever feels towards Patton. "Yeah, why the fuck did you guys do this?! Did you have to make everything so complicated? Our love lives have absolutely nothing to do with you, you had no right to meddle!"

At the sudden explosion of anger, Patton crawls backwards and frowns, his eyes wide as he keeps them trained carefully on his best friend. Logan, however, is calm. His hazel gaze watching Virgil as he glares down at the pair, eyes blazing. "We both wish to see you happy. Constantly being at war with each other will not accomplish that."

"So, people can't just be friends?!"

"Not when they clearly have romantic feelings for one another."

Virgil, deep down, understands that he's just lashing out because the drumming of his heart after receiving such news is new. And he doesn't quite know if it's welcome yet. "How would they be clear?! Don't you see the way we go on during rehearsals?!"

With a nod, Logan comments on how the two of them have been getting along between the arguments, and Virgil just isn't ready to believe it. He isn't ready to tell Logan that, yes, he and Roman have actually been talking more outside of rehearsals. And yes, he thinks that Roman may just be one of the sweetest and dorkiest people he's ever met. But he's not going to tell them that.

"So, 'getting along' immediately equals 'romantic attraction'?!" He cries, trying not to literally cry when Logan's expression softens into one that Virgil isn't too familiar with.

"Stop," he mutters, "I realise that you're just asking all these questions as an attempt to stall answering mine."

Glaring half-heartedly down at the floor, Virgil folds his arms and feels the adrenaline in his system dissolve. "What question? Or do I even want to know?"

Logan huffs out a laugh that is much too sympathetic for Virgil's stomach to take. "Do you genuinely believe that you may have romantic feelings for Roman?"

"God, I'm no good with relationships, Lo." Virgil finally gives in, tugging at his hair as the anger crumbles away to leave room for anxiety. "He doesn't deserve someone so complicated."

"I think we should let Roman decide that for himself."

Patton's voice is shaky, and Virgil's heart is suddenly in a million pieces. He sits down beside his best friend and leans on his shoulder in his own special kind of hug, and Patton smiles affectionately. "I'm sorry, Pat. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you."

Wrapping an arm around his waist, Patton mumbles words of forgiveness and smiles fondly over at Logan, who returns it with a shyness that is almost foreign on him. They agree to drop the topic for now as long as Virgil gives the idea of confessing some thought.

He gives it five seconds before shoving the idea to the back of his mind.
___
___

The week of Brittany's absence arrives, and Virgil feels his stomach dance at the thought of going through scenes that Roman wishes to work on. One of those being the first meeting of Benedick and Beatrice, though Virgil thinks that they all just want to see the two of them play out that argument, which is fair enough.

Once they're all in their positions, Terrence says his lines before Roman starts the argument. "If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is."

Virgil cocks his hip out to one side, a shit-eating smirk on his face. "I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you."

Flicking his hair back in a way that definitely doesn't send something falling out of Virgil's chest, Roman grins, though he purposely has it looking a little strained. "What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?"

At being called a lady, Virgil bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, but Roman seems to notice, sending a wink that has the artist's face warming up. He rolls his eyes and allows his smile to widen as he speaks his next lines. "Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come
in her presence."

A twitch of Roman's lips and widening of his eyes matches the impressed expression on Logan's face, and Christ, Virgil doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

Roman gestures widely to the other actors and actresses currently on stage with them, a confident grin still pulling at his lips. "Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly," he pauses and folds his arms arrogantly, "I love none."

"A dear happiness to women: they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor." Virgil clasps his hands together, ensuring that it is a clear pose of prayer before continuing. "I thank God
and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me."

An almost humourless laugh tinged with bitterness and irritation leaves Roman's lips, and wow, he's actually kind of amazing at this. "God keep your ladyship still in that mind! So some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face."

"Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were."

"Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher."

Virgil grins. "A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours."

Roman smiles right along with him. "I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i' God's name; I have done."

Lowering his voice slightly, Virgil let's his smile drop, and his eyes soften, attempting to display a somewhat saddened expression. "You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old."

They finish the scene and receive an applause from the rest of the stage crew, including Logan, who looks absolutely delighted. Probably with himself; he made the right choice for Benedick, certainly. "Excellent! Virgil, you truly do make a brilliant Beatrice."

"Thanks," he tries to sound indifferent, but the shy smile on his face doesn't allow much of that.

"Maybe one day you could actually audition for a role?"

At Logan's suggestion, he tenses up, but can't deny the enjoyment he had felt bubbling inside of him when acting out the scene. He glances over at the other members of the cast, seeing them looking almost hopeful. Roman meets his gaze and raises a questioning eyebrow. Will you?

Virgil shrugs loosely. "Maybe, yeah."

Logan smiles and instructs the cast to get into position for a very... familiar scene. Not that Roman realises it, of course.

Once they finish their separate scenes involving their 'romantic epiphanies', Logan decides to go through the disastrous wedding scene, and Virgil almost feels his heart break at Valerie's false tears and fake cries. They complete the scene, Virgil and Roman being the only actors left on stage. Only then do the pair realise what scene this is.

Composure becoming nervous, they both glance over at Logan, who simply smiles at the both of them. Mischievous bastard.

Virgil can't quite stop the pounding of his heart as he kneels at the front of the stage. Behind him, he hears Roman's slow footsteps coming towards him. "Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?"

"Yes, and I will weep a while longer." His voice is shaking.

Roman kneels beside him, though his confident stature has weakened enough for Virgil to notice. "I will not desire that."

Keeping his head turned straight forward, Virgil doesn't have much trouble with keeping his gaze from meeting Roman's. "You have no reason; I do it freely."

"Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged."

Virgil huffs out a breath, not quite sure what emotions he should be displaying right now. All he can think of is how he's going to obliterate Logan when he gets the chance to. "Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!"

Even Roman has to take a moment to compose himself. To stop the shaking in his hands. "Is there any way to show such friendship?"

A loose shrug jostles Virgil form. "A very even way, but no such friend."

So close.

Roman takes one of his hands and brushes his thumb over the back of his knuckles when he flinches at the warm touch. "May a man do it?"

What just happened to his voice? Virgil can't help but snap his head towards the actor beside him, quickly processing the sudden softness of his tone. Oh God. "It is a man's office, but not yours."

It takes every ounce of self-control be has to turn his body away from the warmth that is slowly getting closer.

"I do love nothing in the world so well as you: is not that strange?"

The grip Roman has on his hand tightens, but it's not an uncomfortable grip. He doesn't feel trapped. It's firm, gentle, and there. "As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not; I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin."

Without warning, there's a gentle hand on his jaw, smoothly turning his head to look Roman right in the eye. Fuck. "By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me."

Love is a very strong word, but Virgil knows now that, yeah, he really does feel something towards this theatre dumbass. "Do not swear, and eat it."

Why does he sound so breathless? How embarrassing. But the hopeful and slightly amused glint in Roman's eye makes up for it. Not that he can really think much about it when there's a thumb brushing his cheekbone softly; he'd better not be wiping away his makeup. "I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you."

"Will you not eat your word?"

Roman shakes his head. "With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee."

He can't breathe. He has to pause for a second. Once he does, he realises that he's leaning into the hand on his cheek and flushes pink to his roots, averting his eyes away from Roman's. "Why, then, God forgive me!"

His voice doesn't quite have the power it should for that line, but Logan says nothing. Roman tries to meet his eyes. "What offence, sweet Beatrice?"

"You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to protest I loved you."

Roman smiles, leaning closer. "And do it with all thy heart."

Opening his mouth to speak, Virgil looks down, swallowing nervously and feeling his legs ache with how long he's been in the same position. He slowly looks back up, meeting Roman's gaze, and trying desperately to regain the breath he's so suddenly lost. "I... I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."

And with that, Roman pulls him close and closes the distance between them.

Virgil will always deny his sharp intake of breath and the way he reaches up to grip the material on Roman's bicep. The kiss is firm, but so tender that when the actor moves to end it, Virgil leans forward and chases the feeling, keeping their lips moving together in such a sweet and gentle way that Virgil doesn't remember why they didn't do this sooner. God, he doesn't want this to end.

Soon enough, Roman holds him in place and pulls away, smiling adoringly as he opens his eyes to see that Virgil's are still closed. The scene is paused for a second before they continue.

Out the corner of his eye, Virgil sees that Logan and Patton are grinning in their seats.

After completing the scene, Logan chooses to let the cast take a break. Because of course he does, he's the devil in sheep's clothing. Though, the clothing is thin enough for Virgil to see right through that innocent facade. Such a little shit.

Without warning, he's being dragged into the sewing room, a muttered 'we need to talk' reaching his ears before he can process what's happening. Obviously it's Roman who has kidnapped him. Who else would it be? Roman is probably the only crew member to be so overly dramatic about wanting to have a private conversation. He could have just asked.

"So, that was..." He almost seems scared, "That was certainly something."

Great start. Virgil forces himself not to laugh at how adorably awkward Roman is being, simply shrugging and nodding. "Yeah, it was. Something. Like, in a good way."

Roman scratches the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile growing on his face as he nods in agreement. "Definitely in a good way. I just wanted to ask if, uh, you wanted to get dinner sometime? With me. Not just getting food by yourself. Yeah."

"I'd really like that, Ro."

The scarlet flush that adorns the actor's skin as he hears the nickname that Virgil did not plan at all, by the way, brings out a wave of confidence that Virgil never knew he was even capable of. He steps forward and kisses the man's heated cheek, enjoying the almost silent inhale he hears afterwards.

Roman beams down at him and hesitantly reaches over to lace their fingers together. "Not to ruin this incredibly romantic moment we're having, but there's another reason I wanted to talk to you. It's a good reason, don't worry."

"What would that reason be?"

The smile on Roman's face grows larger. "Logan asked Patton out last night."

Virgil's jaw drops. "That bastard! Why didn't he tell me about it the exact second it happened?!"

"I know, I was rather offended too. But, you know, it's been a long time coming."

Smiling softly, Virgil nods. "Yeah. They made such a fuss over doing it. I don't know why, when it was always so damn obvious."

Suddenly, Roman's smile turns wicked and Virgil doesn't know whether to find it worrying or unfairly attractive. "I guess you could say the whole thing was... 'Much Ado About Nothing'!"

Virgil snorts. "That was lame."

"You loved it!"

And yeah, he kind of did.