Acquired Tastes

Chapter Twenty-One

The next few days felt lighter. Sure, Marshall's hatred for them was as fierce as ever, and sure, they'd fallen slightly in the ranking of the remaining participants, thanks to their disqualifications that one day, but things with Roman had continued to improve, and Neil found that just having someone on his side throughout everything that was constantly going wrong was enough to at least keep him around.

One evening, Neil was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone, waiting to find the energy to stand up and shower, when Roman came bouncing in and dropped onto the edge of Neil's bed. "How much do you love me?"

Neil sat up, eyeing him, trying to ignore the thought that perhaps the answer was a good bit. "What do you want?"

Roman eyed him for a second, unable to get the grin all the way off his face, then glanced down at his phone in his hand. "You know how I kind of like Van Kafka?"

Neil smirked. "Yeah, I know how you kind of like Van Kafka."

"They're doing a concert at a park in the city next week," Roman said, desperately trying to hide his excitement and failing miserably. Neil couldn't help smiling back at him.

"Mmhmm?"

"And if you tell me you won't be pissed if I sneak out and go to it, I will literally birth your children."

Neil laughed, unable to tear his eyes away from Roman's face, the crinkles by his eyes and the blinding little smile. "Is that a threat?"

Roman shoved his shoulder. "Fine, whatever, no kids. Will you go see Van Kafka with me?"

Neil rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the faint heat rising to his cheeks. "Fine, yes, let's do it."

"Shit, for real?" Roman asked, already grinning, already pulling Neil into an excited, bone-crushing hug. "Fuck, dude, thank you." His fingers closed around Neil's chin, pulling Neil's temple against his lips for a half second, just long enough to send everything inside Neil into a frenzied chaos. And then Roman was jumping back to his feet, unable to stop smiling as he left his shoes by the door, his rings on his dresser. Neil watched him, absolutely smitten and barely able to hide it, unable to shake the thought that he'd sell his right arm if he could watch Roman be this happy forever.

Roman glanced back over at him, trying to stop grinning. "Shit, I'm sorry, man, I don't know why I'm suddenly eight fucking years old. It's just nice to be excited about something."

"Yeah, man, I get it, be excited," Neil said, and Roman grinned at him.

Neil had trouble falling asleep the night before the concert, so he spent the time lying awake in bed listening to all of the songs he didn't know by the band. He and Roman placed first in running the next morning, but in the afternoon, Neil found himself carrying Roman back to their room from Bingham. He showered, then went over to dining for some food. When he returned, Roman was sitting on the floor in front of their mirror, covering the bruises across his face with concealer. He glanced up when Neil came in, giving him a little grin. "You should be more excited about this, Martin."

Neil smirked, setting a carefully wrapped sandwich on the floor beside Roman. "Leave me alone, I am excited." He watched Roman for a few seconds, eyes running over the outfit he was wearing. It was all typical Roman stuff, but clearly combined specifically for tonight: all black, with ripped jeans, a little button-up jacket that Neil hadn't seen before, and a band tee. Neil tried to ignore the warmth in his chest, trying but failing to not find it incredibly endearing to see Roman excited enough about an event that he'd picked an entire outfit. "You look cute."