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#the Roman version was lowkey better so that’s why this was hidden for so long
jazzy-tzw · 3 years
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This has been sitting in my drafts for months now...
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notveryglittery · 6 years
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summary: His touch was tender and soft, as most things to do with Patton tended to be, but it felt to Roman like fire and electricity, warm and tingling, but hot and stinging. words: 5k // ships: romantic royality <3 (lowkey lamp) warnings: touch starvation, self-hatred, negative thoughts notes: dani writing another royality fic? it’s more likely than you think. anyway, nick threw touch starved roman at me and then it turned into This. i’m really proud of it so i hope you all like it <3 
read on ao3 | references my version of roman’s room quite a lot, which you can get a brief description of in away, if you like! 
Touch felt different in the Fantasy Realm. Not that Roman minded, entirely. It worked more often than not and that was usually good enough for him. His cravings were satisfied and he wasn’t left embarrassed afterwards. Handshakes from grateful villagers and hugs from visiting royalty happened frequently in his expeditions. He’d long since gotten used to the sensation of skin against skin, of strong hands gripping his shoulders, of kisses pressed to his cheeks. It was all fine and good and nice. It was fine. It was fine.
“Roman?”
Startled from his thoughts by a gentle touch on his wrist, Roman jerked away from the contact. He cradled his arm against his chest, glaring at the side that had intruded on his space. It was Patton. His harsh expression melted away quickly, eyes softening. “Yes, dearheart?”
Patton blushed, though Roman couldn’t be sure if it was because he was flustered by the nickname or because he felt shame at having apparently upset Roman. That wasn’t exactly true, though. Roman wasn’t upset at the contact, it had just surprised him. It’d felt much more… real, than anything from the Fantasy Realm ever had. How long had it been since he’d last hugged one of the others? With surprising clarity, Roman remembered it’d been two weeks ago, when Patton had embraced him and thanked him for helping to wash the dishes. Goosebumps rose along his skin at the realization; it didn’t seem like that long, but perhaps the Fantasy Realm had been tiding him over better than he thought? It didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to ask, he couldn’t come off as clingy. Princes didn’t need affection.
“I was wondering,” Patton was saying, looking like he’d already cheered up again. “Do you want to join us for game night?”
Was that tonight? Didn’t he have an evil sorcerer to defeat? Patton was staring at him with such big, hopeful eyes, though, and maybe the Fantasy Realm could handle itself for one evening. He flashed Patton a dazzling smile and basked in the starry eyed look that shone in his eyes. “I would never turn down an opportunity to show you all how marvelous I am!”
Well, Clue might not have been the best board game for Roman to show off his skills. Playing as Miss Scarlett allowed him the chance to go first but Logan, who had taken the token of Mr. Green, was clearly better with murder mysteries. Virgil (Professor Plum, of course) came close in second with his meticulous guesses. Patton (with Mrs. Peacock) was just having fun, moving between rooms, and making the most ridiculous accusations. It didn’t help that Roman just wasn’t rolling well tonight and it was taking far longer than usual to navigate the board.
Logan ended up winning, with the correct combination of Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the Candlestick. 
“Congratulations, Lo!!” Patton cheered. “You’re so clever! I wasn’t even close!” He laid his notes down, allowing the others to see that he’d really just been doodling every time he wrote.
“I was so close,” Virgil moaned, showing his detective sheet to Logan, who hummed in appreciation. “I had it narrowed down to two weapons! Look, I had the rest of it!” He glowered at the Professor Plum piece and knocked it away with a twitch of his fingers.
“How’d you do, Princey?” Virgil asked, bumping shoulders with the royal.
Roman jolted away from the contact. “Do you mind—” He snapped before realizing just who he was talking to and clamping his mouth shut. 
The room went quiet and tension settled over the table. He tossed his cards and notes aside and stood up. 
“I’m tired,” he lied, “good night.” He sunk out before anyone else could speak.
The floor to ceiling windows in his room allowed a view of rolling hills and endless night sky but all it did was make Roman feel worse. He rubbed at where Virgil had nudged him, wondering why it’d felt like how he imagined being electrocuted might. It’d been the same sensation with Patton’s careful touch earlier. Changing out of his regal attire and into his comfiest pajamas, Roman sat down on the end of his bed. The doors to the Fantasy Realm weren’t fully closed (were they ever, though? He was so bad about making sure they actually clicked shut anytime he went in or out) and he could hear the song of adventure calling to him.
You need to sleep, kiddo! He could hear Patton insisting, a sweet smile in his tone.
We’ve been over this, Roman. He could hear Logan scolding him.
Come on, man, even I know better. He could hear Virgil, as if it were a challenge.
Roman crawled underneath the covers and pulled Mrs. Fluffybottom close to his chest. He’d make up for his failure lack of heroics in the morning.
[~] [~] [~]
A knock at the door woke Roman. 
“Come in,” he answered, voice raised just aloud enough that the visitor could hear. What time was it? He rubbed at his eyes as the door opened slowly. Patton’s beaming face peered in.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” He said gently, padding towards the bed. He was carrying a tray of something but Roman was still too tired to figure out what it was.
“What time is it?” He asked, groping around for his phone. He found it under a pillow and frowned when the display stayed stubbornly dark. The red light flashed on it, indicating a dead battery. He tossed it away and sat up, combing his fingers through his hair to try and tame the bedhead.
“A little after ten,” Patton answered, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “I made breakfast!”
That much was clear, Roman realized, when Patton set down the platter of food. It was filled with eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes. A glass of apple juice sat beside the plates and a bowl of sliced fruit added color to the spread. He gave Patton a look that was best described as flabbergasted. 
“This… you…” He hoped he could play off the emotion at Patton’s treat as just still working on waking up.
“You must’ve been really tired last night.” Patton drew Roman’s blankets aside, making sure the tray had a solid place to sit. “I’m glad you got to sleep in, though. You deserve it.”
Roman wasn’t sure he did deserve it, just like he didn’t deserve the kindness Patton was showing him. After all, he’d glared at Patton, and snapped at Virgil, and Logan probably thought him a sore loser after his dismissive exit. He flinched when Patton’s hand went through his hair, ruffling the tangled locks. Patton drew away immediately and Roman wanted to do whatever it took to fix the forced smile on the paternal side’s face. “I’ll let you eat, okay?”
Patton was up and leaving before Roman could figure out what to say. The door had shut by the time he managed, with a choked voice, “thank you.”
It took longer than usual for Roman to get ready, though he couldn’t figure out why. By the time his hair was styled, and his blemishes hidden by concealer, and his sash laying just right, it was nearing one in the afternoon. He flung the doors to the Fantasy Realm open and stepped through. It was warm and bright, the sun shining with nary a cloud in sight. A breeze curled around him and birds chirped in the distance. He took the path well traveled to the nearest town. Everything seemed in order, despite his lack of a visit the night before. It was his realm after all and it wasn’t often it got out of his control. Soon, peaks of roofs and smoke rising from fires appeared in the distance. At the prospect of praise from the villagers and the possibility of being sent on a new quest, Roman’s pace picked up.
The moment his foot landed beyond the low stone barrier surrounding the furthest houses, any tension in his shoulders melted away.
“Your highness!” A cry came from down the road and suddenly, he was swarmed with adults and children alike. They patted him on the back, and shook his hands, and hugged him tight, and he relished in every touch.
“We’re so happy to see you, Prince Roman!”
“Will you tell us again the story of how you defeated the Dragon Witch?!”
“It is an honor having you here. Is there anything we can get for you?”
Roman found himself in a pub, standing atop a table, as he regaled them with his most daring tales. Food and drink were served, a group of bards played as the backdrop to his storytelling, and he preened in the glow of awe and gratitude. In no time at all, he was off on another voyage, sent to find the missing daughter of the town’s blacksmith. He found her held hostage by a party of bandits, who would return her in exchange for better weapons. Roman took care of them quickly and returned the girl to her father.
It wasn’t until the uncomfortable sensation of someone being in his room without invite that Roman was ripped out of his fantasy. Not bothering to return to the doors, he sank out and back in. He arrived clumsily, staggering at how real everything felt suddenly. Another side effect of spending too much time in his Realm, though he was usually alone to deal with it.
“Roman! I’m sorry! I should’ve waited!” It was Patton, who quickly caught Roman by the shoulders, before he could fall over. “What… what happened to you?!”
Nothing, Roman started to say, except that no sound came out, because now he was actually getting a good look at himself, and finding that he was far more beat up than he realized. It didn’t help that Patton’s hands curled around his upper arms were burning in a way that was simultaneously painful and soothing.
“Ran into a bit of trouble on a quest,” Roman reassured through a proud, if not pained, smile. “The damsel in distress was rescued, darling, no need to worry.”
Patton wound an arm around Roman’s waist and led him to the couch. “That’s not who I’m worried about!” He admonished, though his tone was careful. He sat Roman down and conjured a first aid kit, not planning to leave his side for a minute. 
“I was nervous when you didn’t make it for lunch,” Patton spoke as he gestured for Roman to take his shirt off. The prince went red but did as requested, not keen on upsetting Patton any further. “And then you missed dinner, too!”
Roman didn’t realize the time until Patton mentioned it; the moon was risen in the sky outside his windows and his stomach growled quite suddenly. Much like touch, food in the Fantasy Realm wasn’t entirely satisfying. With gentle movements and steady hands, Patton began to patch Roman up. His touch was tender and soft, as most things to do with Patton tended to be, but it felt to Roman like fire and electricity, warm and tingling, but hot and stinging. Without quite realizing, his hands curled slowly into fists, and his breathing became slow and shallow.
Patton seemed to snap out of Dad Mode and he sat back, pulling away from Roman entirely. “I’m sorry,” he apologized meekly. “That was… I should’ve respected your space better, I just…” He waved a hand at the supplies and peeked at Roman from behind the frame of his glasses. “I think you’ll be okay.” He started to put everything away before standing and clutching the first aid kit to his chest. “I’m going to bring you up some soup, alright?”
Before Roman could protest, Patton was gone. Fingers tracing gently over the bandaged wounds, Roman swore when he felt the heavy pressure behind his eyes, and then swore again when tears streaked unbidden down his cheeks. “Some prince you are,” he muttered, “can’t even say thank you.”
[~] [~] [~]
It continued like this for enough days that even Roman got tired of it. He wasn’t one for consistency, for boring routines and tidy schedules. That was more Logan’s thing and they were constantly at odds, anyway, so what was one more point of contention? Thankfully, Virgil and Logan didn’t seem upset or disappointed with him after his behavior on game night. Then again, they could’ve been just as good at pretending as he was. Family meals went by smoothly, with easy chatter. Planning videos tended to be the same as usual: Roman with big dreams, Logan offering easier goals, Virgil pointing out the flaws, and Patton supporting them all in one way or another.
Still, somehow, Roman avoided coming in physical contact with them.
It wasn’t like he tried. In fact, if anything, it seemed like the others kept their distance just as much as he did. That was fine. Really. It made it easier for him to ignore the urges to ask them for hugs or to hold their hands or to join him on the couch for a cuddle pile. He spent even more time in the Fantasy Realm, somehow, and didn’t realize how dependent he’d grown on those touches until two weeks after Patton had taken care of him.
It was movie night and Virgil had just put Big Hero 6 into the DVD player. Logan was sat in the recliner, legs stretched out, and looking ready to doze off. He’d had a long day, helping Thomas to file his taxes. Virgil was sitting on the floor in front of the couch and Patton on the cushion behind him, petting his hair. Roman lounged beside Patton, longing for the same treatment, but knowing better than to bother the pair. Virgil deserved Patton’s attention; he had stressed over Thomas not meeting the deadline on aforementioned taxes, and was feeling particularly drained. All Roman had done today was write down more nonsensical ideas for videos.
“Ro?” Patton asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on his knee.
Roman reacted in an entirely undignified sort of manner; he whined, a low, miserable sound that had Virgil looking up at him, startled. Patton’s grip tightened before he let go completely and drew his arm back. 
“Sorry,” he said immediately and Roman fought every screaming cell in his body that begged to touch, to throw himself into Patton’s lap, to curl up with him, to have his hair played with.
“Was there something you needed, sunshine?” He asked instead, smiling effortlessly at Thomas’ morality, his heart, his emotions. If anyone were to think something wrong with the way Roman reacted any time he was touched, it’ d be Patton. Roman hoped it never came to that.
“We’re…” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else, but Virgil nudged him in the leg. “Out of popcorn,” he finished, gesturing to the empty bowl. “Do you mind making more? You’re the best at distributing the butter evenly.”
“Of course!” Roman proclaimed, retrieving the dish and stepping around Virgil. He gave them a dramatic bow, “anything for you two!” 
Roman darted out of the room and into the kitchen so Virgil couldn’t keep looking at him strangely. He was apparently pretty set on it, however, when barely two minutes later, he shuffled into the kitchen as well. The kernels were popping in a pan on the stove and in another, Roman was melting butter.
“I think Patton’s three seconds away from taking pictures of Logan passed out in the recliner,” Virgil said, in a tone that was meant to be light, but Roman could tell was already bordering on curious. Virgil wanted to know what his deal was.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Roman responded easily, shooting Virgil a smirk over his shoulder. “I know he’s got photos of you passed out in all sorts of places.”
Virgil flushed red and rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Last time I fall asleep in front of him,” he mumbled, glaring towards the living room.
“Aww, no!” Roman rushed to fix it, “I didn’t mean it like that! You know he just loves you and is always really happy that you’re so comfortable around him!”
“Yeah. Sure. Uhm.” Virgil paused. “Speaking of being comfortable around Patton.”
“That was certainly a… segue.” Roman tried to joke, looking away, and focusing on their snacks.
“You’ve…” Virgil sighed and seemed to make a decision. “You’ve been really jumpy around him lately. Around… well, all of us, actually. Are you…” Roman could hear him shifting on his feet. “Is everything okay?”
Roman picked a piece of leftover popcorn out of the bowl and turned around, flicking it at Virgil. “Never better, Paramorose,” Roman teased and Virgil huffed at the nickname. “All my latest conquests have got me a bit jumpy,” he admitted, liar a voice hissed in the back of his mind, “on guard at all times. Just in case.”
Virgil broke the distance between them and reached forward, slow and careful, giving Roman the time to move away if he wanted to. That would just raise suspicion, though, and so he stood still, smiling tightly, as Virgil rested a hand on his forearm. 
“You know where to find me if you want to talk,” he said quietly before backing away and Roman resisted the cry at the back of his throat, the want urge need, just one hug, a hand pressed gently to his cheek, anything.
“In the Tragic Kingdom that is your room, of course,” Roman said instead, smiling effortlessly, at Thomas’ anxiety, his fears, his regrets. Virgil would be the next, Roman figured, to find something wrong with the way Roman reacted to touch. It would never come to that, Roman thought, it can’t ever come to that.
Virgil left him, then, letting him get back to the popcorn and butter, and Roman allowed himself to slip mindlessly into the task.
[~] [~] [~]
“Roman!!!!”
He could hear the exclamation marks in Patton’s call and there was no denying the smile that curled onto his lips. “Yes, darling?”
Patton, in his excitement, seemed to forget Roman’s negative reactions to touch, and grabbed both of his hands. “I want to go adventuring with you today! Can I come?! Please, please, please!!!”
Sparks raced through his palms and up his arms and goosebumps rose along his skin at the sensation. “What ever for?” He asked, trying to wrap his head around why on Earth Patton would want to join him for something so tedious. “It’s quite dreadful, really. You’ll be bored.”
Patton’s eager smile dropped into an angry pout. His hands pulled away and curled into fists, where he planted them firmly on his hips. “Now, kiddo! You know I’ll have fun with you no matter what!” The pout turned wobbly and quite suddenly, he was using the big, puppy dog eyes on Roman.
“Ah!” Roman cried, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead and falling against the wall. “Not the Patton Pout and Puppy Eyes combo!” He peeked one eye open and, upon seeing Patton’s face again, clutched at his heart. “It’s super effective!”
Patton’s delighted giggling revived Roman in no time at all. “Is that a yes?!”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Roman reassured, “I could never say no to you.”
Soon enough, Roman and Patton found themselves in the Fantasy Realm. Patton had packed plenty of snacks, to last them through at least three whole adventures, as well as extra sweaters in case they got cold. Roman hadn’t figured it important to remind Patton that it was Roman’s realm, and he could change the weather if necessary. It was the thought that counted.
They headed on horseback (or, in Patton’s case, unicorn-back) to a village that had just celebrated its bountiful harvest. There were streamers made of flowers strung up between homes, the sound of music playing out of every tavern or inn, windows and doors thrown wide open. The inhabitants were in high spirits and even more so when their Prince arrived.
“Your highness! It’s an honor to have you!” A firm clap on the shoulder.
“We’ve been so lucky in our crops thanks to your hard work!” A tight embrace.
“Prince Ro, Prince Ro, won’t you tell us a story?!” Children tugging on his hands.
If Roman were paying attention, he’d see the astounded look on Patton’s face. The absolute surprise to see Roman responding so well to touch; for a moment, Patton was hurt. Had he they done something to irritate Roman? Was Patton Were they too clingy? Did he hate him them?
“Oh, hello, dear. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of your company before.” A woman said suddenly, pulling Patton into her arms. It was disorienting. There was no doubting the arms around him, the weight of another body, the realization that this was a hug, but— It was all wrong. There was no warmth, no love, no sincerity.
Patton’s heart broke.
It was no wonder Roman couldn’t handle touches from the others. He’d grown dependent on these sorts of interactions. How long had it been since Patton properly hugged him? Sure, he’d allowed himself careful touches, but he’d been avoiding invading Roman’s space, because he was under the impression Roman was uncomfortable with it. Logan wasn’t one for physical contact, anyway, and while the logical side was observant, he’d been awfully busy the last month. Virgil had said something was wrong after movie night but Patton insisted they listen to Roman and let him be. He wouldn’t lie to them, after all.
The crowd dispersed eventually and Patton watched Roman carefully as he went down on one knee, to meet a small girl at eye level. He smiled at her, charming and carefree. His eyes glistened when her little hands smushed his cheeks together. She giggled when he tickled her sides before darting away and back to her mother.
“Hey, Ro,” Patton said quietly as the royal stood and turned to face him, “don’t I get a hug?”
Patton didn’t think it possible for a broken heart to break again but the startled look on Roman’s face did the trick. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It was clear to Patton now, just how easily Roman could put on those wide, fake smiles. “I could never say no to you,” and the same repeated promise from earlier stitched Patton’s broken heart back together.
He was very careful in wrapping his arms around Roman, winding them underneath and around his lower back. Roman, taller in height by a few inches, returned the embrace around Patton’s shoulders, and rested his chin atop Patton’s head.
For a moment, they were still, but it was warm and loving and sincere.
And then Roman’s entire body shuddered and there was no denying the sob that broke through his defenses. He collapsed in Patton’s arms and they both went down, landing clumsily on the cobbled road.
“I’m sorry,” he was apologizing in an instant, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Sweetheart,” Patton tried.
“I didn’t mean to, I know you don’t want me to—”
“Honey,” Patton attempted.
“I’ll be better next time, I promise—”
“Roman,” Patton interrupted, his own voice cracking. He ignored the looks from bystanders as he practically pulled Roman into his lap. It was awkward; their limbs were tangled uncomfortably and the ground was rough, but Patton didn’t care. He carded one hand through Roman’s hair and ran another hand up and down his back.
Roman’s skin felt like it was on fire. Why had he been denying this for so long? The Fantasy Realm had nothing on Patton, probably even Virgil and Logan, too, and how could he have been so foolish?
“Roman, I’m so sorry,” Patton apologizing broke through the haze and Roman stared at him with wet eyes, confused. “I should have noticed sooner.” He laughed and Roman hated the bitter undertones in it. “I’m supposed to be the feelings,” and Roman hated the way his voice wavered, “I should have noticed sooner.”
“Patton,” Roman could barely manage a whimper, “it’s not your fault.”
Patton shook his head and opened his mouth to disagree but one of Roman’s fingers pressed gently against his lips to quiet him. “It isn’t.”
Patton looked ready to argue but instead, he heaved a big sigh, and let it out in a long exhale. “How about we head back to the mindscape?”
Roman snapped his fingers and they were back in his room. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and it only added to the warmth Roman was currently drowning in. “I thought…” He made no move to leave Patton’s embrace, “I thought you all didn’t want me to… to…”
Patton looked aghast. “We thought that you didn’t!”
When Roman snorted, it was with disbelief and frustration. “Miscommunication. Of course.”
Roman would’ve been happy to stay there for as long as Patton was willing but it was starting to be a bit immense. It’d been so long since he’d had a proper hug like this. He hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed it but now that he did have it, he was positively buzzing.
“Patton,” he said softly, loath to break the comfortable silence they sat in. “My foot fell asleep.”
“Oh?” Patton hummed, resting his cheek against the top of Roman’s head. “I could go for a nap right now, too.”
Roman chuckled, gently scratching Patton’s back, up and down, with slow easy movements. “Can we… get up? Actually?”
Patton seemed to snap out of his daze and he drew back — but only infinitesimally. When he looked Roman dead in the eyes, there was hardly a hair’s breadth between them. Roman inhaled sharply at the expression on Patton’s face: furrowed brows, fierce eyes, mouth set in a thin line. “Not because you think I’m tired of holding you, right?”
Roman, had he the space, would’ve shook his head. “No, dearest, no…”
Patton waited a full five seconds before he seemed satisfied with the answer. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Roman’s forehead. They somehow unraveled from their pretzel of an embrace and when they stood, they both wobbled. Grabbing onto each other for balance, Roman sighed at the utter comfort he felt from Patton’s hands grasping his arms.
“Okay,” Patton said, moving his grip down until he was holding both of Roman’s hands. “What now?”
The sun was setting outside of the windows and Roman knew dinner needed to be made soon. “I’m sure Logan and Virgil will want to hear about our quest,” Roman said but Patton saw it for what it was: I want to tell them.
“How about over pizza?” Patton suggested, tugging Roman towards the door. He opened it and stepped into the hallway and continued leading the way downstairs. Not once did he let go of Roman’s hand. When they reached the first floor, Logan and Virgil looked up from their spots on the couch and armchair, respectively. Their gazes immediately zeroed in on the clasped hands.
“Good evening,” Logan greeted them.
“‘Sup, heroes.” Virgil gave them his signature two finger salute.
“We’ll tell you all about it!” Patton enthused, “but first, pizza!”
He dragged Roman into the kitchen, where they took two frozen pizzas out of the freezer, and put them into the oven. While waiting for them to bake, Patton perched onto the counter and pulled Roman into his arms again. He clung to him there, Roman’s hands holding onto Patton’s hips, while Patton peppered kisses across his forehead and nose and cheeks. Between each smooch, he muttered “I” and “Love” and “You”.
There was really no way Roman could stop from crying in the face of such bold affection.
Soon enough, they were in the living room, with pizza set up on the coffee table. Moana played quietly on the TV in the background, while Patton ranted and raved about the unicorn he’d gotten to ride, and the decorated village they visited, and the excitement of the residents.
When it grew quiet and it was clear just how badly Logan and Virgil wanted to ask of Roman’s wellbeing was when he began. “I owe you all an apology,” he started, and had to shush Patton immediately when he began to oppose. “I should’ve had better faith in you. I assumed that you… had grown tired of my exaggerated affections and that you’d rather I not indulge in them as often.”
“What?” Virgil asked, incredulous. “We thought you’d gotten sick of us!”
Patton was sniffling, making grabby hands at Roman. They were sat next to each other on the couch but during dinner, all they’d had was their legs pressed against each other. Roman’s heart clenched at the sound and the gesture and part of him, the part that still couldn’t believe this, couldn’t believe that they did love him, that scolded needy clingy annoying, struggled to accept Patton’s wordless request.
The part that craved, that wanted, that deserved, damn it, won out.
He curved an arm around Patton’s back and scooped him into his lap. Patton squealed happily, throwing his arms around Roman’s neck, and snuggling into his torso. Logan coughed behind his hand and Virgil smirked.
“What are you two waiting for?” Patton demanded, shooting them with impatient glares.
Virgil didn’t hesitate, moving from his spot on the floor to Roman’s left side. He pulled Patton’s legs over top his own and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. Virgil had a tendency to be colder than the others but it was a welcome chill against Roman’s side; it helped to keep him from growing too warm, what with his and Patton’s own elevated body heat.
Logan joined them on Roman’s right where he took Roman’s free hand, the one that wasn’t curled around Patton, and held it tightly in his own. “Is this satisfactory?” He asked. Steady and down to earth and consistent, he helped to keep Roman grounded in the whirlwind of his overwhelming love and appreciation.
“It’s perfect.”
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