Trade Mistakes - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter XXVI

Roman had to give himself some credit, because despite all the odds, their troubled past, and his inexperience with performing and traveling, he was handling all of it fairly well. That wasn't to say that he wasn't exhausted in every form he could possibly be. His body felt weak, his mind felt numb, and he was constantly confused about him and Virgil. The last few weeks had been rough to say the least, but with the end of the short European tour coming up, he was feeling pretty good about the actual touring part of everything.

As for his relationship with Virgil, he was uncertain. They definitely had things they needed to work out that they hadn't discussed. For example, what actually happened between them in high school. They'd never truly talked about how they'd felt with each other, and the princely man could feel the weight of that unspoken past hanging in the air at all times.

They hadn't discussed their past, and Roman believed it was effecting their present and their possible future as friends... or something more. He'd be lying if he said he had absolutely no hope that they could rekindle their high school affections for each other, but he couldn't bring himself to risk acting on his feelings. He was fully aware that his relationship with Virgil could plummet into the negatives with one small slip, and he wanted to keep that from happening by any means necessary.

These were the things going through the guitarist's head as he sat in the lounge of the bus the evening before their last couple shows. He sighed, looking up at the metal ceiling of the vehicle, feeling it rattle and shake as it traveled along the roads of Europe. He wasn't really sure what country they were in at this point. It didn't seem to matter until showtime anyway.

"Roman? What are you doing up?" a voice asked softly. He jumped and looked to see the singer had emerged from the bunks, looking tired and confused. "It's nearly three in the morning, you should be asleep."

He shrugged and arched an eyebrow at him. "So should you, what are you doing up?" he countered. "You need to rest your vocal chords for tomorrow."

"I just had a weird dream, that's all," Virgil said, padding over to sit beside him on the couch. He pulled his feet up to sit on them as he leaned against the cushions. "I couldn't really go back to sleep, I don't really know why..."

Roman nodded in understanding as the other man looked toward him for his reason. "I just had some trouble falling asleep," the guitarist said simply.

He hummed in acknowledgement to the answer and a strange silence fell between the two of them. They sat there, not talking, for about five minutes, staring ahead, listening to the sounds of the bus, to the cars passing by outside, to the soft sounds of their bandmates' snoring or breathing in their sleep from their bunks. In that moment, the princely man realized just how insane it was that they'd ended up there. After all they'd been through, they were here, on a tour of Europe together as musicians. If he hadn't already played several shows with him already, he'd assume he was dreaming.

"Hey Roman?" Virgil started quietly, making him turn his head. "Can I ask you something?"

He nodded, frowning a little bit as he gave him his full attention. The singer took a deep breath and looked at him, expression carefully blank, showing neither happiness nor anger as he spoke. "Why did you decide to make us friends with benefits?"

Heart racing, he felt his gut drop; that was not what he was expecting. "What do you mean?"

"I just want to know why," the alternative rockstar mumbled, looking at him with slightly blown eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch. "I forgive you, I just think we should talk about it... I want to know why you said what you said, and I can tell you anything you want to know about my side of the story."

Roman gnawed on his bottom lip but nodded. It would do them no good to avoid this topic any longer. "I asked to be friends with benefits with you because I feared you'd never return my romantic feelings for you," he began to explain. "I was so in love with you, and you seemed so unfazed by my teasing and my attempts to get closer to you. When I was drunk, my filter and logical train of thought just left, and well... you know what happened. Then later, I wasn't drunk, but in my head I was thinking, I want to kiss him so bad, but I don't want to screw this up. Friends with benefits seemed like a good idea at the time..."

"Why didn't you just tell me how you felt?" Virgil questioned, looking sad. "I would've loved to have been your actual boyfriend."

"I thought you didn't return my feelings, Virge," he replied, shaking his head. "And I was terrified that a confession like that would ruin what we did have together. I was an idiot, and I can't forgive myself for what happened... I know I was essentially using you, and I'm so sorry..."

The singer reached across and took his hand in his, threading their fingers together. "Stop saying you're sorry," he said firmly. "I know you're sorry, and I know you suffered just as much pain because of our actions as I did. I wasn't entirely innocent here either... I could've told you no, and if I had we might've actually sat down and talked about it, soberly."

"Virgil, if you returned my feelings, why didn't you tell me?" Roman asked, looking down at their hands, feeling warmth spreading from the connection.

"I was scared too," he confessed. "I thought you were too good for me... that if I ended up giving my heart to you for real you wouldn't want me anymore..."

The princely man frowned sadly and squeezed his hand. "You were perfect to me," he mumbled, earning a tired and appreciative smile from the other man as they relaxed into the couch. They had no intentions of running or returning to their bunks. They were both perfectly content to just stay there together, holding each other's hand in peace after so many years of discourse.