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onthevirgeofdestruction · 1 year ago

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BCE (Before Cult Events)

Chapter 11: Almost

Length: 2,000 words Warnings: Alcohol, Underaged Drinking Characters: Virgil, Remy, Remus Ships: Ambiguous dukesleepxiety Genre: Fluff Extra Tags: Platonic Affection, Teenage Nonsense

There was something always a little brighter about the nights that Remy’s asshole dad was out of town. Remy was free to stay overnight, and everyone there would end up drunkenly piling into Virgil’s bed at the end of the night. They long since gave up on trying to give each other space. Remus had always been so pro-contact that in private, it felt normal. Remus was also a big enough guy he needed a full-sized bed by himself, so shoving into Virgil’s twin-sized bed meant they piled together at the end of the night. Assuming someone didn’t want to sleep on the couch, which was rare. Virgil quietly looked forward to all sleeping together in the cold, silent nights alone, though he never said it. He was worried he��d sound weird or people would get the wrong idea.

Everyone was already too drunk and spacing out, spending the whole night drinking and partying and having a great time. Virgil had picked the movie, but he was honestly so drunk he didn’t know what it was about. Remy was laughing at it, though, and that made him feel warm in his chest, looking up at him from his lap to see him smile.

“What’s up, babe?” Remy asked with a drunken drawl, arm stretched out across the top of the couch. Virgil blinked at him for a moment, unsure what he was asking for. “You’re staring at me,” he pointed out, flicking Virgil in the nose. Virgil scrunched his face and rubbed his nose, sitting up automatically as he tried to deal with the sensation.

“I lost track of the movie. I was wondering what you were laughing at,” Virgil explained sleepily, sitting against Remy’s side and tucking in under his arm.

“Oh, I have no idea. I just think the guy on screen is being stupid,” Remy answered with a small shrug, Virgil’s head falling against Remy’s chest. “Remus must have lost track, too,” Remy pointed out with a half chuckle, motioning over to Remus sprawled out on the couch with his eyes closed. He had one leg up on the top and an arm sagged to the floor with the other folded across his chest, which rose and fell slowly.

“Can’t blame him. This movie sucks, but also he was dancing pretty hard earlier,” Virgil said, eyes blinking a little slowly as he looked over at Remus, wondering if he was going to snore soon.

“You and him took active dares, too, and he sprinted shirtless for that last dare before we switched to games.” Remy’s affectionate amusement evident in his voice, making Virgil feel warm and fuzzy all over again.

“I can’t believe you made us play timed strip tag,” Virgil grumbled, crossing his arms and blushing slightly as he leaned into Remy’s side.

“You weren’t arguing when you got the dare,” Remy teased, shoving at Virgil’s side with his torso.

“Fuck, I’m still that drunk. If you asked me to do it again, I might,” Virgil said playfully, his hand weakly reaching up to touch his face. It was still warm.

“Babe, sorry to be the one to tell you, but you’d probably do anything I asked,” Remy joked again, his lips curling up into a self-assured smile. Virgil blinked at the expression, realizing how close their faces were like this. Remy leaned over and reached for his water, Virgil falling on top of him as he moved, and took a drink, returning to position with Virgil now a collapsed mess.

“I think I lost the ability to sit up,” Virgil said with a laugh, trying to push on Remy to sit up, but still failing to adjust.

“Oh yeah? Sit on my lap,” Remy demanded, poking Virgil’s cheek. Virgil crawled up without thinking, happily sinking into Remy’s chest with a small yawn. Remy’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and Virgil held onto his jacket as he nestled into his chest before dropping his hands to cover a wider yawn. “See?” Remy pointed out.

“What?” Virgil asked, blinking up at him again.

“Proved my point, that’s all,” Remy announced smugly, squeezing Virgil’s shoulder.

“You’re usually right,” Virgil hummed, looking at the TV. “What are we watching again?”

“It’s some college comedy, but it’s ass-deep in a romcom at the moment,” Remy replied, clearly disinterested. He also yawned, smacking his lips after he was done. Virgil watched with interest, reaching up to rub a bit of dried tomato sauce off of Remy’s chin. Remy looked at him in confusion, and Virgil showed him the red fleck on his finger before flicking it away.

“We should probably get to bed soon before Remus is too hard to wake up,” Virgil commented mildly, holding onto Remy tighter. He didn’t actually want to move at the moment.

“Probably,” Remy replied, reflecting the complete lack of interest in moving in his tone. Remy turned back to the TV, still holding onto Virgil on his lap.

Virgil looked up at him, admiring his face. He had a strong chin. Striking eyes that he usually hid behind sunglasses. Shaggy auburn hair that always looked so effortlessly perfect. His dad would probably cut it off soon, he didn’t let Remy grow his hair out for long. But Virgil liked to play with people’s hair sometimes, so the extra length was nice. Virgil’s hand mindlessly reached up and played with a loose lock on his neck. It was dry, but Virgil didn’t mind. It was Remy’s hair. He didn’t seem to notice, still watching the screen. The dark living room made the TV reflect in his eyes, the lights dancing from the screen much more interesting than the movie itself.

Remus snorted and rubbed his face, rolling his head over and shifting on the couch a little, his lower back rising to scoot. Remy snickered through the nose as they both looked over to him, Virgil chuckling quietly himself. Remus faced them now, looking completely relaxed. He normally carried a lot of stress on his face, and it was nice to see his handsome features without them. He was hopefully having a pleasant dream. Virgil looked back at Remy, his hands now wringing in his lap as he stared up at him.

He was drunk as fuck. Virgil knew he was. They both were. Every single second with Remy he relished, even fucked up with him like this, just trying to avoid thinking about things that neither could change. Being here with him felt right. Being in his arms felt right. And his lips looked so soft. They shined with moisture from the sip of water he just took. There was something about the moment that made Virgil want to feel them. He wanted to check. He wanted to see and experience it for himself. Virgil’s hand lifted without him, hovering next to Remy’s face before dropping back down to his lap nervously.

Remy looked down, and his eyes widened. He saw where Virgil’s eyes were and where his hand were headed; he had to. They locked eyes with each other, wide blue meeting Virgil’s stormy sky. Pupils dilated with interest. Remy’s glance flicked down to Virgil’s lips before looking back up, and Virgil wondered if Remy was thinking about it, too. Remy never expressed an interest in kissing Virgil, despite kissing other people at parties. But they were drunk as hell. It wouldn’t be surprising if it crossed Remy’s mind. They shouldn’t do something they’d regret, though. Part of Virgil knew that, but another part couldn’t look away. He’d thought about this before, as much as he’d deny it if he was asked. He didn’t know what that meant for him, or for Remy. But Virgil wanted to, desperately, no matter how hard he tried to damn the thought from his mind. He didn’t even know why he wanted to kiss him.

Remus snorted again, both sets of eyes shooting over to where Remus laid on the couch, scratching at his face. His finger accidentally slipped into his mouth and he pulled at his lip as he itched his gums. Remus’s eyes blinked open, and he sat up, looking at his wet finger with a mild chuckle. “Movie over yet?” Remus asked with a lazy slur, pushing on the couch arm to sit up.

“Nope, but we weren’t paying attention,” Remy answered, sounding completely normal. His regularly disaffected tone. As if he didn’t just catch Virgil staring at his lips. Maybe Remy didn’t notice after all. Maybe Remy was giving him an out. Virgil wasn’t sure, and he was too fucking drunk to even try to figure it out. Maybe Virgil was just hammered, and it wasn’t even important in the first place.

“Le’s go t’bed,” Remus murmured, his face breaking into a massive yawn. The yawn set off Virgil, then Remy, and all three were yawning in unison as some frat boy cheered on the screen. Remy flailed around on the couch for the remote, turning off the movie without objection.

“’kay,” Virgil muttered back, rubbing his face. He was just drunk and assigning more meaning to something fleeting than there was. Remy clearly doesn’t feel weird about it, and they get to go cuddle to sleep. Right now, that sounded perfect. After that last yawn, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay awake. Remus stood up with a stretch, his muscles straining in the tight shirt he wore.

Remy tried to stand up while holding Virgil on his lap, but he didn’t make it far before collapsing back down onto the couch with a laugh, Virgil laughing as well. Remus chuckled and reached down, pulling up Virgil effortlessly with arms under his knees and holding his back. Virgil’s bangs all fell in his face and he fought another yawn back, setting off the other two into yawns again.

“Bring me that water, Rem,” Remus requested, motioning with his head to Remy’s glass of unfinished water.

Remy nodded and took another sip before taking it along with them as they all headed down the hall. Remus kicked the door open with his foot gently, the bedroom darker than other parts of the house. He walked in quietly, chucking Virgil onto the bed. Virgil laughed with a bounce on the mattress as he landed, shoving his bangs out of the way as he got up off the bed to get out of the way for Remus. Remy handed off the glass he was drinking from that Remus promptly chugged.

Remus threw off his shirt and started kicking off his pants with zero shame as usual, Virgil too drunk and tired to care about staring at his butt as he slipped on some sweats. Remy took off his leather jacket, keeping dressed otherwise. Virgil unbuttoned the top of his jeans, but didn’t have the courage to change pants in front of the other two, and was too sleepy to even consider leaving the room.

The bed protested with a creak as Remus tossed himself down onto it, holding up the blankets for the other two. Remy climbed in next, putting a pillow between himself and the wall as Virgil came in last, settling back under Remy’s arm on top of Remus with a soft sigh. Remus tugged the blankets over them, adjusting slightly under them. Remy never minded being pressed into the wall as long as he had a spare pillow, curling in under Remus’s arm himself without hesitation. Virgil rolled his neck to face Remy, Remus’s arm landing flat on his back, Virgil’s hand just barely brushing this edge of Remy’s.

Virgil watched Remy fight another yawn, nestling his head in and closing his eyes soon after. Virgil took a deep breath, sparing a glance to Remy’s lips one more time before he closed his eyes as well. Sleep came for him quickly under the drunken haze, the strange image of a desperate, stolen kiss in the sun the last thing on his mind as they all laid together in his bed.

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