#queerplatonic royalogicality

[vindicatedvirgil]

headphones / queerplatonic LAMP

requested by Kat @i-cant-find-a-good-username! hope you love how it turned out!

summary: Virgil will sometimes wear his headphones without music playing so that he can hear what the other Sides are up to. But when he overhears something he’s not supposed to… he decides to have a little bit of fun with it.

established queerplatonic/vaguely romantic royalogicality and eventual queerplatonic LAMP

TW: anxious, spiraling thoughts. food mention.

[masterlist]

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Virgil was perched on the back of the couch, his favorite spot in the living room that wasn’t the staircase, his headphones set over his head. Normally, he’d be playing stuff from his playlist, a little bit of Paramore, some Evanescence, a lot of MCR, some Panic! At the Disco. The usual. Except today, he decided to just… pretend. No music was coming through the headphones and every once in a while he would nod his head as if there was music.

He wanted to know what the others said about him when they thought he couldn’t hear. Every so often, he’d be listening to music while the others were doing their thing, their lips moving in conversation. And, sometimes, their eyes would flick over to Virgil, then back.

His anxiety rose every time it happened. What were they saying? Did they secretly hate him? Did they want him to go back to the others? Were they making fun of him?

On this particular day, Logan was seated at the kitchen table with Roman, and they were plotting out their ideas for the next few videos. Patton was in the kitchen, humming as he made the group some lunch. For the most part, the only things that Roman and Logan were talking about were their creative endeavors.

Virgil wondered if he was overreacting. Maybe they didn’t talk about him at all? 

He wasn’t sure which was worse: them talking about him when they think he’s not there, or them not talking about him at all.

“Ro, how’s the surprise for Virge going?” Patton’s voice was there as he joined the others at the table. Virgil’s eyes widened, but he made no movement, instead listening carefully, watching out of the corner of his eye. He could see the Prince glance over at him, as if to make sure that Virgil’s headphones were on, then look back at Patton.

“It’s almost ready,” Roman responded, and Logan looked up from his work. “I’m thinking this weekend, I’ll ask him to go on an imagination adventure with me, and you two will already be there, setting up a picnic or something in the flower field I made.”

Patton reached his hand out, settling it on top of Roman’s. “Do you think… he’ll want to?” From his limited view, Virgil could tell that Patton was nervous about whatever it was they were planning. He decided to tune out the rest of the conversation, pressing play on his headphones, letting his music flow through once again, as his mind raced over every possible scenario.

Was it a trap of some kind? Were they going to leave him out in a field in the imagination, so that they never had to deal with anxiety ever again? Was Remus out there, ready to attack? Or perhaps Janus, though he’d been even more reclusive lately.

He didn’t want to be tricked, but if it was something fun for the others, maybe he’d play along with it a little bit. Maybe he’d trick them back, if they were so keen on ruining his life. 

-

A few days later, Virgil was perched on the top of the fridge, keeping himself hidden as Patton packed a picnic lunch then sunk out, Logan sinking out immediately afterwards. Virgil had noticed that Patton had packed his favorite foods, ranging from PB&B&J (peanut butter and banana and jelly) sandwiches to freshly washed grapes and chocolate peanut butter cups. There was even a large thermos full of iced tea. Virgil was confused. Was this a last meal of sorts? Giving him joy and yummy food before sending him to his doom?

Eventually he heard Roman wandering the halls, calling out his name, so he hopped down from the fridge and pulled his sleeves up. If he was going to go out, he’d go out with a fight. Roman finally spotted him and marched over, a big smile on his face.

“Good afternoon, my chemically imbalanced romance! Would you care to join me for a stroll in the imagination?” When Virgil stepped up to him, he noticed a fine layer of makeup over Roman’s skin, complete with shiny lipstick. 

“Nah, I’m good, Princey,” he finally said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He attempted to walk past Roman and out of the kitchen, but a strong arm held him back. “What gives?”

“Please, Virge? I want to show you something I’ve been working on,” Roman’s voice was a bit softer then, and had taken on a bit of a pleading tone. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.” Virgil wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight or fly, but he answered his own question when he stepped even closer to Roman, a scowl on his face. “Let’s get one thing clear, Princey,” Virgil dropped his tone, not quite to the tempest voice range but teetering on the edge, in case he needed it, “There are very few things that are worth my while, and I’m almost certain that this is not one of those things.”

Roman’s face fell, and Virgil felt a twinge of guilt in his gut, but pushed it down, still staring right into the royal’s face. “I just… I think you’d really like this, Virge. Please?” He held out his hand, and Virgil wanted to take it. He really did. But… what if it was all a trick? What if Roman was pretending to be upset? 

Virgil hesitated, his hand nearing Roman’s, and he finally took it. And then they were sinking out of the kitchen, and they were in the imagination. 

Virgil had only been in the imagination a few times before. He’d seen different rooms and scenes, but nothing like what had appeared in front of him. It was, truly, a field full of purple flowers; lavender, wisteria, alliums, salvias, and geraniums. And in the middle of it all was a circle of grass; within that circle was a white picnic blanket, Patton laying on his back, gazing up at the miraculously formed clouds, head in the lap of Logan, who was reading a book.

“What is all of this?” Virgil asked, finally letting go of Roman’s hand. He let himself follow Roman through the flowers, the plants seemingly casting themselves aside to let the pair wander through without trampling any of their stems. Patton glanced up at the two, a bright smile on his face.

“It’s… well, Virge, it’s for you,” he said quietly, and Logan closed his book gently, setting it off to the side as Roman found his way to sit on the picnic blanket, pulling Patton’s legs into his lap. “I don’t know if you’ve… noticed. But… the three of us, we’re kind of… together.”

“What?” Virgil was sure that he sounded and looked incredulous. “Together, as in…”

“A queerplatonic relationship,” Logan said, glaring down at Patton a bit. “Well, sometimes. Sometimes Patton and I get a bit romantic, and, well, if you ever wanted to be romantic with one of us, that’s fine.”

“With one… of you?” Virgil was sure this was a joke. “I don’t understand.”

“We want you to be a part of this,” Roman’s voice was calm, and the way he was looking at Virgil definitely hinted at some kind of romance, but it was too much and Virgil’s brain couldn’t handle the thoughts and the implications– how was this affecting Thomas? How was it affecting the others?

The others. Did the others know? Did Remus know what his twin was up to? Janus had to be aware of this, he knew when any of them lied to each other. And… if he knew… they could all be in danger.

He felt hands gently take his, and looked up to find that he had fallen to his knees, and Patton was there in front of him, a face full of compassion right there, and Virgil wanted to bury himself in that cat hoodie and sob because it was too much and how would this work and what if down the line they decided they didn’t want him anymore—

And Virgil realized that he wanted it. He wanted in, and he wanted them.

“Okay,” he finally said, and there were three pairs of arms around him instantly, and lips on cheeks and tears were falling from someone’s eyes (probably his own or Patton’s). The thought spiral stopped itself for a moment to allow Virgil to be flooded with joy and a sense of belonging, and he could worry about all of those other things another time but for now, he was in the arms of three people who cared enough about him to make a picnic lunch and grow a garden of purple flowers.