Plenty of Treasures

Chord From the Past

Pairing(s): Prinxiety and strongly implied Logicality crush(es)

Warnings: Strong language, mention of panic attacks

Note: This was a request from my friend, Star! Thank you so much for the request, it was so fun to write!
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“Virgil, are you listening to me?”

“Not really, no.”

A sigh. “Well, I appreciate your honesty, at least.”

Scanning the classroom, Logan spots the object of his best friend’s interest; he’s sitting on a desk at the front, talking avidly to a small group of people surrounding the wooden piece of furniture. His lips curve into a grin as a boy around their age, who Logan is pretty sure is leader of the LGBTQ+ society, mutters something to him, a matching smile on his face. Unexpectedly, Virgil’s person of interest is Roman Santiago, a typical popular kid.

Or, typical in terms of cheesy chick flicks, sitcoms, and romantic-comedies, anyway.

With his flawlessly styled hair, spotless complexion, and ridiculously expensive clothes, Roman Santiago is the stereotypical captain of the football team. It’s almost laughable.

Despite never having interacted with the football team captain, Logan can’t help the bubbling irritation he feels towards him. He’s far too loud. So loud it’s obnoxious. And, in Logan’s opinion, just because he’s a member of the theatre club doesn’t mean he automatically gets a free pass to be so astoundingly melodramatic. Though, he does seem like a reasonable guy with good intentions at the very least, so Logan definitely doesn’t resent him in any way. And he can’t say he doesn’t understand Virgil’s interest.

Virgil lowers his head into his arms on his desk, whining quietly about how ‘it isn’t fair’. Logan doesn’t dare ask what he means. “I understand your reasoning as to why you wouldn’t want to speak to him, but wouldn’t it be better to know for sure that he isn’t interested, rather than pine over him and regret never asking him to go on a romantic outing with you? We’ll be leaving soon, so I’m who knows when you’ll get another chance?”

“I know you’re right, Lo, but I just can’t.” Virgil is nearly whispering, breathing in heavy, disappointed sighs, and tracing faded scratches on the wooden desk with his index finger. “We’ve talked a few times, though, which was cool. But I just... I just wouldn’t know what to say to him. Y’know?”

Nodding curtly in sympathy, Logan pats the top of his friend’s head and opens his textbook, running his gaze over the words and retaining whatever information he can before their final mathematics exam. Once he finishes looking over three or four pages, he glances up and notices a certain theatre club member staring at his best friend of ten years. “Virgil,” he mumbles, speaking a little faster than usual, “he’s looking at you. Don’t panic.”

After tensing up at the idea of Roman Santiago staring at him, Virgil slowly raises himself up and his eyes meet the gaze of the football team captain. His brain is all static for a while as he’s sent a knee-buckling smile, and can only just find the ability to return it shyly, flushing pink to his roots and switching his gaze back down to his desk. Isn’t it strange how the dimples on someone’s cheeks can momentarily stop your heart? Virgil has never been one for placing himself into any social situation, but Roman Santiago is possibly the one person he’d talk to for hours if given the chance.

“You handled that better than I expected. Bravo.”

“Why was he looking at me, though?” Virgil asks, only partially ignoring his friends statement. “What if he was talking shit about me? Or spreading some sort of rumour?”

Immediately, Logan steps in before he can think himself into a panic attack. “Virgil, we both understand that, although Roman is popular, he’s in no way callous or, to put it lightly, an asshole. You’ve given him no reason to act as such towards you. And as for why he was staring at you,” he pauses to glance over at Patton, who definitely is the leader of the LGBTQ+ society, “you’re fairly attractive and possibly his ‘type’. So, why wouldn’t he strive to take as much if your aesthetic in as possible?”

After taking a couple of deep breaths, Virgil sends his friend a relieved and slightly weak smile. “This is why you’re my best friend.”

Logan smirks. “You’re welcome.”

Meanwhile, across the room, one theatre gay is having a crisis. “Patton, he’s so pretty! And he got all blushy when he noticed me looking at him, does that mean he likes me too? Or did I just embarrass him? Do you think I should apologise for staring? How do I even talk to him?”

“With your voice, Ro.”

Patton’s voice is kind as he reads through his flash cards yet again, flipping each one over after guessing the answers to the question on the front. “But really, Virgil is a sweet guy, so I really think you should say something to him before we leave high school. Who knows where he’ll be going to college? What if he isn’t even going to college? Roman,” he places an encouraging hand on his friend’s forearm, earning a look of desperation, “I don’t want you regretting the fact that you’ve barely ever said a word to him.”

“I know, I don’t either,” mumbles Roman, eyes filling with smoke as he drops his head heavily on the desk, murmuring a quiet ‘ow’ afterwards. When his eyes, once again, meet the concerned chocolate ones from across the room, he sends him a reassuring smile that again sends Virgil’s gaze to his knees. “He’s wonderful, but what if— “

“Don’t dwell too much on ‘what if’s or you’ll never get anything done.”

Lifting his eyes from his desk, Roman searches his friend’s expression and sighs fondly, pushing himself up and glancing quickly back at where his crush is sitting. Maybe Patton is right? He can never know for sure if he doesn’t at least try.

Just as he moves to stand up, their mathematics teacher enters the classroom. “Alright, sit in your own seats and place all revision resources in your bags. Your phone shouldn’t be on your person and any bottled water should have the label taken off. No talking during the exam and no starting until I say so. If I catch anyone cheating, you will immediately fail your exam and be sent out. Any questions?”

Roman slumps down in defeat and glares down at his test paper with a disappointed pout pulling at his lips. Maybe after the exam.

Virgil sneaks a glance over at where Roman is seemingly having an internal crisis and frowns. Maybe he should ask him about it after the exam.
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Deeper into his bones the rain seeps, but his new hoodie needs a bit of ‘breaking in’, so to say. And besides, he loves this kind of weather anyway, so why would he sit indoors and simply listen to the raindrops patter against the glass of his window when he can actually smell it? The scent is rich and lingering, maybe a little bit bitter when the wind blows in a certain direction, but it allows him to slow down time for a while, even if it’s only in his mind.

His eyes close involuntarily and he tips his head back towards the sky, allowing his cheeks to become drenched and raw. It almost feels as if the water is peeling away the first layer of his skin when the icy wind hits his face, but the numbness is relaxing to an extent. So, when that numbness fades and the cold air is less noticeable, he opens his eyes and finds his best friend of who the fuck knows how long standing over him, an amused smirk adorning his cheeks. “You’re going to get sick.”

“Probably.”

Logan pauses for a second. “Well, if you want to be well enough for our guests on Saturday night, you’re going to have to come inside.”

Eyes snapping open, Virgil takes the offered hand that pulls him to his feet. “Excuse me? Guests? We don’t have guests. We don’t have anything except our crippling existentialism and a few near-to-expired bags of hot Cheetos in the cupboard.”

Sparing his best friend not even a glance, the unusually smug lawyer simply leads him into their shared house and collapses down onto the couch. “I’m sure we can make room for Patton and Roman.”

Instantly, there’s a choked gasp from the kitchen and a clang of glass against metal as footsteps run into the living room. “Roman?! I thought we all lost contact after high school! Not that we had much contact in the first place, but...”

He trails off, silently teaching himself how to breathe again. Roman Santiago?! Man, it had been a whole week since Virgil had last mentioned him. It’s actually kind of pathetic; even though it was clearly a silly high school crush, Virgil had failed to forget or stop gushing about the guy for the past eight years. There was always just something about him that struck a chord with Virgil.

A beautiful chord that repeated and reverberated in his head with no mercy.

“We did, but I bumped into them at the supermarket today. Patton’s the one that noticed me.” Only now does Virgil notice the almost foreign warmth in Logan’s voice, particularly when he talks about the former LGBTQ+ society leader. Interesting. “The racket he made when chasing me down was rather amusing, if a little bit... dramatic.”

Virgil asks about their encounter and is told that their get-together will be at 6PM on Saturday. It’s Thursday, so definitely lots of time to prepare his less-than balanced emotional state for some real damage. “God, why would you do this to me, you monster?”

Logan shrugs. “You never did get the chance to ask him out in high school. Maybe if you hit it off this time, you can finally do it.”

And leaving no room for debate, he switches on the television.
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“I’m going to barf.”

“You’re going to be fine.”

Virgil glares at his roommate heatedly as he stands up to answer the door, which has just sung a melody of rapid knocks. His stomach twists anxiously as footsteps head footsteps towards the living room, but it’s only one set of footsteps so he assumes that Logan is just leading them in. He covers his face with his hands and screams quietly before dropping them back into his lap.

“Ah, still a true ball of sunshine I see.”

Holy shit. Practically throwing himself to his feet, Virgil’s eyes meet the much more muscular frame of his past high school crush. He’s taller, obviously, and his skin is an even warmer looking beige. The endless dimples staining his cheeks are still as endearing as they were even back when they were younger, and the beauty mark that his friends used to tease him for is still sat beneath his left eye, contrasting a little less than it used to since his skin is no longer as pale as it used to be (not that it ever really was ‘pale’).

And his gorgeous walnut eyes are still gleaming with the mirth and mischief that they always did. Along with being a lot taller, his shoulders have also gotten a lot broader and Virgil can certainly see that he works out. “Whoa.”

A shit eating grin stretches across Roman’s face and he juts out a hip, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “See something you like?”

“No, no! I mean, yeah, but no, I just—“

Virgil cuts himself off and just listens to how bright Roman’s laugh has gotten. He smiles nervously, but genuinely, and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just... You look so different, it was just surprising.”

Nodding in understanding, Roman steps closer and Virgil swears that he can feel that chocolatey gaze look him up and down. “It’s perfectly fine. Do you do hugs, or...?”

“Oh, uh, yeah?”

Roman’s eyebrow arches and his grin widens. “That sounds more like a question than an answer.”

Rolling his eyes, Virgil holds his arms out and wraps them around his former classmate’s neck loosely, his stomach jumping in surprise when strong arms wind themselves around his waist. “It’s great to see you again, Virgil. How’ve you been?”

As they begin to catch up on what’s been happening for the past eight years, they hear a muffled laugh bounce off the walls of the hallway, where Logan and Patton are heading towards the living room (finally). Movies are watched, pizza is ordered, and games with Logan’s ancient playing cards are argued through. It turns out that Logan and Roman are much more competitive than Virgil had thought. Patton, apparently, already knew.

Somehow, during their decided last game of slapjack, Roman has shuffled along so his legs and Virgil’s are pressed firmly together. The contact is comforting, as strange as that may sound to some people, because despite not having seen each other in years, Roman is even better than Virgil remembers. Considerate, sweet, charming, funny, and possibly a little bit flirtier than Virgil ever remembers him being. But if he’s being honest, he really doesn’t mind.

“Slapjack!”

“Fuck you!”

Patton places a hand on Logan’s shoulder, telling both him and Roman that they need to calm down because, wow, it’s a family card game! Once the cards are put away neatly on the shelf in Logan’s room, the four of them decide to finish the rest of their cold pizza before Roman and Patton have to leave. The reminder that the two of them will actually have to go home at some point leaves an echo of disappointment in Virgil’s stomach.

He glances over at Roman, who is already looking at him, and smiles. The thought-jumbling smile he’s sent in return heats his face up to his roots and forces his gaze back down to his feet.

God, is it stupid to still have a crush on the guy you liked in high school? Even eight years later?

Soon enough, the pizza is gone and their two guests have to leave. Virgil and Logan both see them out the door and give the two of them hugs. And wow, Patton’s hugs are so warm.

When Roman pulls him into a tight embrace, Virgil can feel his heart stutter in response. Is it weird to feel so safe in the arms of someone you haven’t spoken to in years? Because Virgil genuinely feels as if nothing could harm him when being held so tightly to Roman’s chest. He’s not that much taller than him, but he’s just the right height for Virgil to rest his chin on his shoulder.

They pull apart and wave goodbye to one another. But once Logan shuts the door, all he can think to do is stare at it.

“Virgil,” calls Logan, a knowing glint in his eyes, “go ask him. It might be eight years late, but do you really want to lose yet another chance?”

And no. No he doesn’t.

Pulling open the door with perhaps a little more vigour than necessary, Virgil races out and down the path to catch up to where his former classmates are walking. God, he looks so dumb. He should stop. Really, he should. But it would probably looks even dumber if he did. “Hey, wait a sec!”

The pair turn around and smile, a little confused, at the softly panting man in front of them. “Look, Roman, this is going to sound really strange and I know I’m eight years late, but do you want to get coffee or something sometime?”

Roman’s eyes widen for a moment before he beams a little breathlessly, and nods. “Took you long enough to ask.”

“Fuck you, man, oh my god.”

Again, Roman’s laugh lights up his eyes in a way that strikes a chord in Virgil. A beautiful chord.

A chord he could listen to forever.