#quite frankly i would love to toss this laptop out the balcony and then go on my merry day but unfortunately thats not how life works

[fan-dumb-trash]

Come Out And Play [Prinxiety One-Shot]

Hey @5-crofters-jams ! Here’s your present for @secretsanders! I really love Prinxiety along with Panic! and Billie Eilish so I’m super happy I got you! Hope you had a good Holiday! TBH this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, so I’m praying that youll love it as much as I do :D - <3 Ray

Warnings: Angst and Self deprecation in the beginning.Some swearing. don’t worry it ends up fluffy very quickly :D

•••

Roman curled up in a ball, head between his knees and tightly shut his eyelids. His roommate was stomping around their little apartment in her thick combat boots, sounding like an elephant in tap shoes. Her shouts where echoing in the open space, fading in and out everytime she exited and entered a room. Roman suddenly felt the same pit in his stomach he did when he was a child. Little Roman always tried to drown out his parent’s shouting by his favorite Disney songs, hiding away from the ugly with the lighthearted.

Now, it was like everything came around full circle. Roman messed up. He always did. His passions, his fears, his inability to live his life, had caused others to get dragged down with him. Roman’s roommate just happened to be the collateral damage of today.

“It’s Christmas Eve! How in the hell are you okay with staying here all night, being sorry for yourself and sad. If you want to throw a pity party, do it on your own terms. I’m goin’ out. Don’t bother joining me.” The girl seethed, her tone cold and biting. At this point, she was standing by the door with her hand on her hip. Roman’s earbuds were in and he pretending to ignore his roommate.

“Go ahead and write your dumb little short plays and hide the fact that you don’t have a clue what you’re doing with your life,” she scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. Roman flinched and bit his lip. He would not cry. He asked for this. As usual he declined another one of her offers to go out. Roman was tired, and his words came out uncensored and offhandedly. Clearly he had stricken a nerve in his roommate.

“Why can’t you just loosen up and go out for once? Is it so hard to be a normal human being?”

Roman heard her sigh. He had no energy to respond to her. Her car key jingled in her hands as she went to open the door. “Goodnight Roman,” she said, “Merry Fucking Christmas.” She huffed and slammed the door. Roman began rocking back in forth. He would not cry. He asked for this. He screamed into his knees and rolled off the couch, walking towards the table. Roman opened his laptop and stared at the empty word document.

Time passed. A few words were typed, and just as quickly, they were deleted. Ideas of heroes and dragons bounced in his head. Epic journeys and stories of love could unfold in his head, but to translate them into written word took more concentration than Roman could muster. He decided to give up for the night and retreat to Netflix. Before doing so he decided he had to at least grab a snack.

As he began to walk towards the cupboard, he heard a soft noise coming from outside his apartment. It was faint, but alluring. Roman found himself being drawn to it and carefully unlocked his kitchen window. He slowly opened it and he heard the sound of instrument strings being plucked from above him. A soft, deep humming swirled with the wind that directed the noise to his ears. The voice began to sing.

“And some days I lie wide awake 'til the Sun hits my face. And I fade, elevate from the Earth”

Roman, tired and disheveled, jumped onto the counter and grasped the window sill, his nail polish chipping a bit under his tight grip. The voice became more clear.

“Far away to a place where I'm free from the weight, this old world, this old world~”

Roman took a sharp intake of breath when he heard the small riff at the end of the line. He leaned closer and closer to the sound, sticking his head out the window.

“I don't trust anything, or anyone, below the Sun.”

Silky, smooth, and striking with each word, Roman somehow felt connected to the source of music. What twist of fate had him stumble upon this siren-like voice? Roman didn’t know, but he wanted to find out. Whether it was the spirit of the holiday, or the exhaustion creeping up on Roman, the man, in a leap of faith, decided to investigate.

“And I don't feel anything, at all”

Roman looked down. It had come to his attention that there was a fire escape starting a few feet under the window. Forgetting his fear of heights he plopped out of the window and walked on the metal balcony over to a nearby ladder. The wind blew around the man, throwing him a bit off balance.

“I'm king of the clouds, of the clouds~ I get lifted, I get lifted,”

He pinpointed the source of the noise. It came from above him. One foot in front of the other, he scrambled up the ladder. He prayed that it would lead him to the stranger, and not to his death. Roman’s head began to race. Thoughts bounced around like a kid on a sugar rush. What am I thinking? I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to freaking die. As he got closer and closer he found himself regretting his decision more and more. It took all his strength to not look down. He knew that if he did, he would freak out and plumit towards the ground. Roman imagined himself as prince climbing up a tower to reach his beautiful Rapunzel. With this in mind, the stranger with the lovely voice finally came into view.

“King of the- What the FUCK!?!?” The man screeched, and suddenly stopped playing his guitar. His eyes were wide and dark, like a deer in the headlights. His jaw virtually dropped down the six stories below him.

•••

Virgil appreciated cliches. They offered consistency. You always knew what to expect when you sat down on the couch with your cozy blanket, and put on a Hallmark movie. There were no surprises. Real life was never like the movies, so everything he watched, he concluded would never happen to him.

Never in Virgil’s uneventful and drab life did he expect to actually live through one of these cliches. That’s why when a man with tangled red hair and big caramel eyes appeared at the edge of his secluded balcony, he concluded that everything he knew, was a lie.

“SORRY! Ididntmeantostartleyou! I just-erm… reallyreally liked your voice.” Roman, at this point, had climbed over the banister and sheepishly waved at Virgil. His smile was tight, but easy. Virgil didn’t quite know what to make of this situation.

“Thanks…? But that still doesn’t explain what the HELL you are doing up here! Where did you come from?” He interrogated, burying himself in his scarf. Virgil’s face was on fire.

“Oh,” Roman’s brow furrowed. “I’m in room 42, right bellow you, I think…” Virgil growled and buried his face in his hands.

“Why are you here?” He asked. Everything was silent for a moment, but the wind howled and caused Roman to shiver. He didn’t plan to be out in the cold. His thin bomber jacket would do him no good in the winter weather. Virgil caught onto this and looked up at the man, concerned. Roman shrugged at his stranger, and replied to him.

“I mean, isn’t a little spontaneity good every once in a while? People just do stuff without any explanation. It can be good, bad, but it just happens. Is it your job, or my job, to decide what the universe should and shouldn’t make happen?”

Virgil couldn’t decide if this dude was crazy or brilliant. He did know he was cold, and scared of heights. The man refused to look at anything that wasn’t Virgil. The way he couldn’t truly smile, or relax his posture told him something was off. Roman slowly came further and further from the edge. Virgil didn’t have the heart to send him back down the ladder.

“You’re shivering,” he said. “I will be right back. Don't go anywhere, okay?” Roman nodded in response, and Virgil slipped through his own window. As his feet hit the tile floor, a loud whistling noise startled him and sent him up into the air. He looked over and realized it was just his tea pot. Thanking the gods for not letting his house burn down, he grabbed the first jacket he saw and an old beanie, and quickly filled two mugs up with tea. Walking back outside, Virgil had no idea what he was doing. A handsome stranger, speaking like a crazy person just decides to meet him on his balcony, and for what? His mediocre at best singing voice? Maybe guy is right, he thought. Spontaneity can be good.

With this newfound motivation, Virgil carefully approached Roman after much struggling. He set down the two tea mugs and then tossed him the sweatshirt and beanie. Roman quickly threw the sweatshirt over his head. It was much too big for him, but frankly he did not care. As he slid the beanie on, he felt a little warmth come back to his body. Virgil moved his guitar case off of an empty chair and gestured to the seat with his long, pale fingers. He cleared his throat and began to speak in his best medieval voice.

“Have a seat, lone traveler. If you’re gonna trespass, and invade my secluded balcony, you owe me every last detail of your halfway decent origin story.” It took all of Virgil’s self control to not burst out laughing at the bewildered look on the other man’s face. Roman did not expect this tall glass of emo to provide such a performance. He began to laugh, and sat down next to Virgil. Virgil’s cheeks tinted pink at the harmonious sound and Roman smiled.

“But what if my origin story’s no good, kind sir?” Roman questioned, with the same kind of voice. Somehow it held more of a dramatic flair than Virgil’s. The edgy man snorted and crossed his arms.

“Well you’ll just have to tell me anyways, won’t you? If it’s that bad- I’ll feed you to the crocodiles.”

Virgil replied. If possible, Roman smiled even wider, causing warmth to spread though Virgil.

“How about this,” the man began. “I’ll start you off with a question. What’s a dude like yourself doin’ all alone on Christmas Eve. You seem like the social type, right?” Virgil asked, curiosity in his eyes. He sipped the tea and buried himself into his scarf. Roman practically guzzled his tea, desperate to warm up.

“Well, I am. A prince such as myself has got to slay. Theater sort of demands that you be social. All the actors, tech crew, directors… Frankly, I don’t think I get a break,” Roman sighed.

“Should’ve guessed you were a theater guy,” Virgil shook his head and chuckled.

“Yeah,” Roman grinned. “It’s obvious once I mention it. But I mean when things get overwhelming I tend to… back up? I mean if it’s in the middle of a show I’ll play my part, but I don’t attach myself to the vulnerability of it all or I’ll get hurt… I mean good thing a lot of male leads are shallow and one dimensional.”

Virgil hesitantly nodded. “I guess… I mean guys aren’t always like that in real life. And I’m sure you aren't. So I’d just accept that you’re gonna get hurt and just live,” Roman flinched and shut his eyes as the other man finished that phrase. Virgil cursed under his breath and slowly reached out to touch his hand before sharply pulling back.

“Sorry! Did I say something? I probably did sorry that was harsh I shouldn’t have-“

“You aren’t wrong. I really do. It’s just not easy, outside of theater. Christmas has always been tough since my parents split. Don’t get me wrong, I live for the aesthetic. Red is my favorite color. Green is… captivating,” Roman breathed out, catching a glimpse of Virgil’s own eyes, hidden behind raven hair. “ It’s just that what I expect is never what I get. Christmas kinda ruined itself for me. It didn’t help that ever since I moved here I haven’t kept in touch with my folks as much as I should. I just feel… guilty. For feeling free. But I’m also sad as hell if you can’t tell,” He gestured towards himself and his disheveled appearance. Virgil noticed the bags under his eyes, and the exhaust plaguing him. He hummed sympathetically.

“That’s gotta suck big time. I mean, if you’re living a better life without their drama, you shouldn’t feel guilty. If they truly gave a shit about you they’d understand your actions, or at least try to,” Virgil sipped more of his tea and gazed at Roman. He seemed to be in his own little world. A part of Virgil wanted to join him in the bliss. “I’m just an antisocial guitar lover who’s only plans are to hang out with their parents on Christmas Day. The universe is one funny dude for giving you me, of all people, for condolences,” he reached out a hand to touch Roman, but this time he didn’t pull back last moment. Roman looked over at him with an intense gaze. He sighed and smiled sadly.

“I write. A lot. Short plays. They never go anywhere because they’re never real. It’s all in my head, fantasy. For once I want something tangible. Theatre is my escape from my sadness… it’s just that I think it’s taking away from stuff that really matters,” Roman whispered, almost too quietly. The wind had settled at this point, not taking away from the spoken word. Virgil smiled back, unsure of why he was listening to a stranger.

“It seems like your art is your way of expressing yourself. Isn’t that what really matters? Being yourself? Music is my escape. Singing something is acknowledging it’s real, but also acknowledging the wisdom and power that you gain when you overcome an obstacle. It’s also just… really nice ya know? I respect you. And any other sane person should,” Virgil said. Roman stared at him, in awe. He was stunning in more ways than one. His features, his words, his voice, made Virgil a person that could inspire Roman in such a short amount of time.

“Will you sing for me?” Roman asked. Virgil blushed and shook his head.

“No! I mean I’m used to singing in front of people it’s just the circumstance-“

“How about this,” Roman began, rubbing circles on Virgil’s palm, making him blush more. “You can play a song on your guitar and I will sing it, but you have to promise to sing a little with me too. Deal?”

Virgil contemplated for a moment. It would be interesting to hear if this prince man could carry a tune. He hummed aloud.

“Hmm. What do have in mind?” Virgil asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Do you like Billie Eilish?”

“Is that even a question? Of course I do. What song?”

•••

Roman was shocked how quickly he could answer Virgil. I mean, it was a simple question, and the choice was obvious. While Virgil’s voice was steady, Roman could see the nervousness swimming in his eyes.

“Come out and play.” Roman replied, pulling his hand away from Virgil’s. His checks tinted pink, and Virgil laughed at him. Roman imagined the gears in Virgil’s head turning. His jaw was tight and he averted his gaze away from Roman. Roman noticed this, and carefully grabbed Virgil’s guitar, pushing it into his chest.

“You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me, a random stranger who doesn’t know a thing about you, and who definitely won’t judge you,” Roman softly said. Virgil finally looked up at him and smiled.

“Okay,” Virgil muttered, adjusting his position so he could play. “Thank god I know this song by heart. If I didn’t, we’d be screwed.” Roman shook his head, amused.

“Well, my damsel in distress -heh, literally- I happen to know the song, infact, I could sing it backwards.” Virgil raised his eyebrows, and adjusted his fingers on the fretboard. Roman scotted forward in his chair and curiously peered at Virgil. The emo man sighed.

“I would rather you not do that. You ready?” He asked.

“I was born ready.” Roman exclaimed, sipping the last of his tea and abruptly clearing his throat. Virgil pursed his lips together and shook his head at Roman.

“You do know that clearing your throat actually rubs your vocal chords together and messes up your singing, right?” Virgil said matter-of-factly. Roman gasped, somewhat surprised. The other man laughed quietly to himself and began playing his guitar, long fingers plucking cooper strings to create a calming sound. Roman grinned and hummed along. He looked across the balcony and the setting sun that peeked between the trees.

“Wake up and smell the coffee. Is your cup half full or empty? When we talk, you say it softly- but I love it when you're awfully quiet,” Roman sang with a bright, warm voice, throwing Virgil in for a loop. There was somewhat of a shaky undertone to it, even if Roman himself was confident. Virgil found it endearing.

“Hmm, hmm quiet. Hmm, hmm” Virgil hummed softy with Roman, their voices not quite melting together. Roman looked over at Virgil and their eyes met for a brief moment. The moment ending just as quickly as it started.

“You see a piece of paper, could be a little greater. Show me what you could make her. You'll never know until you try it-“ This time Roman sang to Virgil, sincerity lacing his words. “-and you don't have to keep it quiet” Roman emphasized this phrase, causing Virgil to roll his eyes good heartedly. He sang the chorus with him.

“And I know it makes you nervous. But I promise you, it's worth it- to show 'em everything you kept inside. Don't hide, don't hide~” Virgil’s smooth softer voice blended perfectly with Romans’. They both grinned, noticing it. They sang to each other as Virgil began playing his guitar more enthusiastically. Roman refrained from singing- entranced by Virgil.

“Too shy to say, but I hope you stay. Don't hide away~ Come out and play.” Roman stared, seeing the weariness poke out in Virgil's voice. He found it beautiful. He found him beautiful- and thanked the universe for having this happen to him. The rest of the song way sweet, and unsteady- but by the end they where both lost in the moment. Virgil sighed, content.

“Well that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Roman crossed his arms and leaning back in his chair. His eyes betrayed any negativity he was trying to portray. They were filled with light and joy. Virgil smirked and shook his head.

“No, it wasn’t. I’m going to come hug you now, okay?” Virgil said, placing his guitar back in its case. Roman laughed and stood up and Virgil embraces him. Roman rested his chin on Virgil’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Did I make your Christmas Eve less crappy?” Virgil asked, mostly as a joke.

“Hell yeah you did!” Roman replied, tilting his head a bit. Virgil broke away from the hug and grabbed Roman’s hand.

“Okay, I have a question and this might be a bit odd-“ Virgil started- but Roman interrupted.

“Oh, of course my darling emo I will marry you!”

Virgil cackled and lightly smacked him on the shoulder. Roman grinned, proud of himself.

“Noted. I was going to ask if you wanted to come to my parents tomorrow? I’m sure they won’t mind another human around and they always make a ton of food anyways even though it’s just me and all. I mean if you don’t want to that’s chill too…” Virgil looked down at the floor, his face on fire. Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand, causing him to look up.

“I’d love too, but first I need to know your name.”

“Oh shit!” Virgil exclaimed, facepalming. “My names Virgil. My dad's a huge poetry nerd and my other dad just like adores unique things so bam!”

“Wow, that's a lovely name! I happen to like poetry myself.” Roman smiled as Virgil’s blush became more visible.

“I should probably ask what your name is,” Virgil commented.

“I’m Roman Prince, at your service,” He said, bowing. Virgil snorted.

“Fitting. Oh, I’m glad you decided to waltz into my life and climb up a fire escape just to hear me sing.” Roman’s smile grew as Virgil spoke. Fate was a funny thing. Perhaps Roman was able to live a little all along, all he had to do was find the right person.

“I’m glad I did too, Virgil.”

•••

Note: The songs used in here are King Of The Clouds By Panic! At The Disco and come out and play by Billie Eilish! I’d recommend giving them a listen! I also don’t own thoose songs I’m just a huge fan of them :3 Hope you liked this!

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