#remember fellas!!! we should never compare twins against each other!!!!!!

[daisukissed]

the better one | m.osamu

❧ pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader, slight miya atsumu x reader

❧ synopsis:

miya osamu was never the one to compare himself to his twin brother. he doesn't care if his brother gets more attention, is better at volleyball or is preferred over himself but as he watches you with your arms slung against atsumu's shoulders, mouth kissing him passionately like he's some sort of drug, he wishes this once, just this once, that he could be the better one.

❧ genre: angst, mild fluff

❧ warnings: none

❧ word count: 3.7k

Ding dong.

The door bell chimes through the secured walls of the Miya household, alerting everyone present in the vicinity.

Or just one, Miya Osamu.

The tall athlete stops at whatever he was doing, turning to wash his dirty hands instead in response to the door bell, feeling the cold water run against his skin.

Ding dong.

Another ring sounds off and the boy reacts quicker. He dries his hands off with his clothes, rushing his way to the front door. Twisting the metal doorknob, the wooden door opens it's way to the outside world.

You jump at the sight of the gray haired boy, a dark blue apron cladding his muscular build. It somehow suits him, you think.

"Um, is Atsumu here?"

The high school male observes your demeanor, recognizing you as his twin brother's girlfriend. He remembers Atsumu introducing you to him very briefly at school, the class bell interrupting the two of you before you could add anything else other than your name. He didn't really have the time to garner an opinion on you due to that.

Finally taking a good look at your face, he realizes that you're an exact image of his brother's type. It's no wonder how you managed to capture the condescending blonde's heart.

"Tsumu's buying groceries right now, he'll be back soon. Come on in." Osamu recalls, his muscular back already turned back into the house.

You follow his footsteps, taking in the nooks and crannies of the room. The softwood wall matches perfectly with the white ceramic floor, the furnitures within the area complimenting the both of them as well. It isn't the most lavish house nor the most special one but it's certainly the coziest one you've been to.

Taking a seat on the white couch in the living room, your eyes lock on the high school boy a few meters beside you, occupying himself in the kitchen where you can see the countless utensils lying around, a few rice grains sticking here and there.

"Ah! Are those the new samples you're working on?"

Osamu stiffens slightly at your sudden question, turning his head to face the numerous rice balls you were talking about.

"Yeah, I guess you heard from Tsumu?"

Giving him a sheepish smile and a slight nod from your head, you continue on your conversation with the light haired male.

"That's right..." You stop, contemplating whether or not you should say the next few words.

"He wasn't quiet happy with your decision, after all."

Osamu can't help but scoff lightly as a corner of his mouth twitches up in disdain, the glass plate that he was previously washing completely ignored, water gliding down the surface and to the drain.

"Sure he wasn't. Nobody was."

Osamu hates the fact that he could feel his own chest tightening, his words littered with a hint of stubbornness and... hurt?

Hurt. That's what he felt when his brother ridiculed his decision, when his parents gave him doubtful looks about his plans, when even his fangirls begged him to keep doing volleyball. It was as if the whole world was against him pursuing his passionー

"Well, I personally think that you made a great choice."

The whole world except you.

"Oi Tsumu, give these a taste!"

The young boy yells from a distance, making his way to the room beside his, a plate of filling rice balls in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

He doesn't know what changed or how it happened but his twin have been unusually supportive of his passion as of late, agreeing to support and help however he can.

Not taking any of his rare kindness for granted, Osamu constantly feeds his brother unhealthy amount of rice balls each day, asking for his thoughts and opinions.

Today was no exception.

Pushing the door handle with his elbow, he opens the door with a push of his body, careful not to spill the water nor the food he's holding.

Grey eyes immediately widens slightly as they are met with an unexpected visitor, their legs tangled up with another's as they try to wriggle their way out of the other boy's grasp.

Your cheerful laughter cuts short as you notice the young male in front of you. Putting the tickle war that happened just moments before to a stop, you give Atsumu who is hovering you a push, causing him to notice the said man as well.

"Sorry for disturbing, I'll-"

"Don't fret it, are those for us?" You give out a kind smile, waving your hands to shake off the boy's apology.

Osamu nods his head in uncertainty, eyes glancing towards his brother only to see a displeased look befalling him, probably from the disturbance of he and his girlfriend's time together. An uncomfortable feeling settle into his chest, making him regret his decision of barging into the room even more.

"I'm not eating any, I've been eating those for three days straight now."

Standing up from the sturdy bed you've been sitting on, you take the ball of rice made by the boy, one for yourself and one for your sulking boyfriend.

"Now, now, one more can't hurt." You say cheerfully, practically shoving the dish to the boy's face. Atsumu frowns to which you reply with what looks like an innocent smile, prompting the blonde to sigh in defeat and snatch the rice ball from your hand.

Seeing him take a huge bite of the triangular rice, you smirk smugly before giving yourself a mouthful bite as well.

Osamu stands still awkwardly as he watches the two of you dive into the meal, observing any slight change in expression on your face.

"This is the best you've made so far." Atsumu states, taking more and more bites despite his earlier reluctance.

You bob your head in agreement, eyes widening in shock at how well all the flavors mesh together.

"Itsch rweally gud!" You try to exclaim, words slightly muffled due to the amount of food occupying your mouth.

The small amount of nervousness in his body disappears completely when he's met with nothing but positive remarks, pride slowly welling up in exchange.

Seeing the elated look and chubby cheeks from your face, Osamu can't help but feel his own mouth curling into a soft smile.

You find yourself visiting the two siblings much more often now.

What used to be just the two of you became three, Osamu appearing more and more frequently in between the dates you and your boyfriend shared.

Silent movie nights turns into popcorn fights and unprofessional reviews, dinner with takeouts into massive taste tests of various riceballs.

It's a change that you nor Atsumu minds, honestly. He's glad that he could spend his time with two of his most favourite people while you're just happy to gain a new friend.

Ringing the melodious doorbell you've heard more and more of lately, you patiently wait for the recipient from the other side, swinging your feet back and forth as you stare at the white painted door.

It only takes a couple of seconds before a tall figure came to view, thick eyebrows lowered into a quizzical frown.

Osamu was for sure not expecting you to be at the front of his doorsteps when he opened the door, smiling at him innocently like you're supposed to be here.

It would've been okay if things were under different conditions.

If his twin, Miya Atsumu was actually home. Did you not know? Did he not tell you? He really couldn't believe that his brother would leave you without informing you about the youth camp. Just how ignorant could he be?

"Tsumu's not home."

"I know that?" You give him a matter-of-fact look, tilting your head in confusion.

More questions fill the boy's mind as he wonders about the reason of your visit. You never really came unless you were accompanied by your boyfriend so what was your point in coming when he's away? It couldn't be for his parents, you and Tsumu weren't at that level yet and of course, it couldn't be for him, you guys never really talked unless it was with the presence of his brother (much to his disappoinment). The two of you settle with friendly smiles and subtle waves instead whenever you passed by each other at school.

Choosing to squeeze pass the still boy instead of waiting for him to let you in, you invite yourself into the spacious house, the white walls you've grown familiar with welcoming you warmly.

"Can a person not spend time with a dear friend without their boyfriend?" You ask rhetorically, turning back to give your gray haired buddy an enticing smile as you raise the bag of store-bought rice balls in your hand.

If Osamu had known that letting you in that day would result to the constant pain eating at his chest, aching at every sight of you, he would've prevented you at all cost.

The unspoken boundary between you and Osamu was crossed the moment you spent your entire day in the boy's presence. The two of you were no longer threading the thin line between friendly gestures and close actions, already passing beyond that awkward phase.

Within the few days that the blonde was away, you and Osamu had already shared numerous inside jokes (none of them explained to Atsumu for entertainment purposes), countless shitty rom-coms (you complained about his tastes, to which he argued that you just don't understand the art behind itー as if there were any in overused clichés and sappy kisses) and of course, you couldn't forget the various spontaneous outings (the competitive arcade games, the midnight car rides, the trashy cooking competitions)

His days were slowly filled with you, providing him with a giddy and blissful feeling that he hadn't felt in so long. Even when his twin brother had finally arrived home, the two of you continued to spend your time together, no matter if the yellow-haired was present or absent.

It almost made him forget that you already have your heart set on his brother. Almost.

"Oh, so ya can't make it?"

"Yeah, Tsumu just invited me out. I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you next time, promise!"

Ahー of course, relationships come first after all. It's no surprise that you would choose to spend your time with your boyfriend in preference to your best friend. Anybody would do the same.

"Hm, sure. Have fun." Osamu mumbles, not being able to prevent a twinge of his bitterness seep out from his words as he ends the call, the monotonous beep being the last thing he hears.

Turning back from where he was heading to, the silver haired male walks down the lone and empty street back home, only the sound of faraway children accompanying his journey.

He feels like shit. Like there's someone kicking dirt into his heart, staining it with this ominous emotion that he wishes he could scrub off. It doesn't help the fact that the sun's setting down either, bringing down the mood even more as it bids goodbye to the land it shone for, the once warmly lit place diminishing into a gloomy abyss.

He shouldn't feel so disturbed. So irked, so agitated, so upset. That would just prove the insatiable feeling buried deep inside his chest, hiding in denial all this time. The feeling that eats away his skin, leaving him bare with nothing but his pride and ego to defend with. The so-called feeling named jealousy.

And Osamu is a person with dignity before a person that is jealous.

There is no way that he harbors any sort of feelings towards you that are more than platonic, that his heart skips a beat whenever you scoot closer and soars at the sound of your mellifluous laugh, or that he finds himself thinking of you in every corner of his house, like the spot you always sit on the living room couch and the kitchen mug you always favor more than others. He isn't supposed to find solace in the way you ramble non-stop about another series you've grown fond of, feeling himself relax at the soft lull of your voice, neither is he supposed to feel an evergrowing tenderness in his being at the sight of your face, always beaming in contentment, eyes so bright that it brings shame to the sun, like there's nothing wrong in this ruinous world. He can't.

Not when his brother is head over heels for you.

You've been spending less and less time with Osamu these past few days. He's always either holed up in his room, the kitchen or even worse, not even in the house at all, using the same repeated excuses that you've heard more than you could count.

"Samu's not joining again?" You inquire, plopping on the cushioned seat beside your boyfriend as he scrolls through a collection of movies displayed on the TV.

"Yeah, said he was goin' to study or something." Answered the blonde, his muscular build shuffling closer to you and a lean arm making its way around your shoulders.

"Study?" That's not right. Osamu would rather take a scooter to an ankle than actually study.

"I know, I was surprised too." The athlete responds in a tone of agreement. His fingers pause upon a poster of what seems to be a grotesque movie, the image of a bloody mask staring at you menacingly. Shifting his line of vision towards you, he asks for confirmation on his movie of choice and despite having mixed feelings about it, you agree. How could you not when he's looking at you like a child begging for ice cream?

The film starts off tense, the atmosphere heavy and surroundings gloomy. Fifteen minutes in and you're already on the edge of your seat, hands gripping at the strong boy's arm in fear of a sudden jumpscare. You take a glance at your boyfriend, observing any signs of distress or terror and sure enough, there were none. You're not even surprised at this point, Atsumu's a maniac for the thrill and pumps of adrenaline provided, you're not.

Just like Osamu.

You sincerely wished that he was present in today's marathon, wanting someone to share your hatred for horror movies with. With your constant anti-horror buddy being gone, you realized the huge role he plays in your overall experience. The continuous jokes he makes whenever the character does something stupid, the collection of curses spewing from his mouth that accompanies your obnoxious scream when something horrific suddenly pops out. Despite being scared shitless himself, you never actually see him reject any of your spoiled requests. He would always run you down on what happened when you're too scared to watch, Atsumu being too focused to do it himself. His explanations were confusing and all over the place (probably due to the fact that he himself watched through the slits between his fingers) but he gets the job done. Not to mention the times you would beg him to accompany you to the restroom, trembling arms linked together as you travel down the dark corridor leading to it (the one Atsumu insists on keeping the lights off, something about maintaining the mood), leaving him all alone once you got in.

It's those little stuffs that gets you feeling extremely grateful for your collected friend and when a bright idea suddenly shots into your mind, lighting up a lightbulb over your head. You push yourself off the couch, immediately scampering towards the simple and neat kitchen, switching on the lights by the counter.

Atsumu, who got disturbed at the sudden brightness and sounds of metal clanking, pauses the motion picture in action, giving you a bemused look.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching you prep a variety of ingredients and condiments with raised eyebrows.

"Making riceballs for Samu! His brain's probably fried by now and is in major need for sodium." You explain, scooping a hefty amount of rice into a large bowl and salting it generously after.

The tall athlete smiles defeatedly at your thoughtfulness. He was almost frustrated, honestly but he knows better than to be jealous at your kindness towards his careless sibling. Stepping into the kitchen, he turns on the faucet by the sink, roaming his hands through the rush of cold water.

"Need any help?"

Osamu lets out a frustrated groan, laying his head on the cold hard table in hopelessness, folded arms serving as a cushion to lessen the pain and discomfort. His head's aching from all the numbers and letters he forced himself to absorb, mind too tired to comprehend anything anymore.

But it's better this way, anything's better than the constant thought of you; the slightly indecent snorts mixed with the melodious ring of your laughter, the soft gaze you occasionally give out, the one where you could feel the admiration just by looking at it, your eyes brimming with nothing but warmth and love. It's a shame that none of those belongs to him and he knows that it never ever will be. You see him as nothing more than a friend, your boyfriend's brother. Osamu himself acknowledged this already, even way before the two of you got close.

That doesn't mean it hurts any less though.

He wants to stop. Stop feeling so infuriated and defeated. So desperate. So pathetic. He'd do anything to remain rational and unbothered at your presence, to not have butterflies swarming inside his stomach and flowers blooming inside his heart. He needs to. Osamu will not let a single chance in having these emotions linger any longer. He'll get rid of the venomous bud you planted so secretly yet fondly, erasing it before it blooms into something more acidic; something that will burn through his skin, leaving him vulnerable with nothing but leftover bones.

And what better way to do that than avoidance?

It started off small, like cancelling your usual plans with him, making up blatant excuses to cover up his antics. Then, it was not joining you and Atsumu's table at lunch, choosing other group of friends to eat with. Finally, he stopped seeing you altogether, avoiding any sort of situations or places that could potentially harbor your presence. He was doing so well. Oh, so well.

Until a knock sounded off from his door, intruding his fatigued thoughts.

Until your figure came in moments later, bringing with you a savory and sweet smell, overfilling the room in mere seconds.

And of course, until you set the massive ball of rice on top of his table, its white grains and hot steam staring at him along with that lovable smile of yours.

You really just can't give him a break, can't you?

Snacks of all kinds and video games of different genres are splayed messily on the carpeted floor of Osamu's room.

You let a yawn escape effortlessly, bringing up a hand to cover your indecency while the other remains the hold on your black controller, taking a slight break on attacking the group of enemies in front of you before continuing to do so again.

"You really think we can finish this run by tonight?" You ask in a weary tone, hours of gameplay and shouting beginning to take effect on your body.

"Hm. Probably not." The boy to your left replies casually, hitting the pause button when he sees the look of exhaustion riding on your face, eyes softening at the sight.

You crash into the bed behind you, back leant backwards and arms stretching to its maximum height before falling down feebly. A sigh breaks free from your lips, hinting your utmost disappointment as you position your head to lay against the bed more comfortably, eyes closing when you found a good spot.

"All that work for nothing then."

The ash haired boy watches you rest in complete silence, taking in the littlest bits of details. As the blue light from the television's screen illuminates your skin perfectly, highlighting your features in his dark room, long lashes glistening like the stars adorning the night sky, he wonders, if you yourself, is a star as well.

And just like stars, you're impossible to reach.

Miya Osamu was never the one to compare himself with his twin brother. He doesn't care if his brother gets more attention or has more fans than him. Doesn't care if his brother's better at volleyball and is personally more sought out than him. Doesn't care if his brother's labelled as the better twin in general, him dulling in comparison.

But as he watched you slip your soft hand in between the other boy's calloused one, fingers intertwined and cheeks a rosy pink.

As you wrapped yourself against the boy's built body, leaning in until no space is shared between the two of you, providing a warmth that he could only imagine.

As your arms slung against Atsumu's shoulders, standing on the tip of your toes as you kiss him passionately like he's some kind of drug.

He wishes this once, just this once, that he could be the better one.

A head falls to Osamu's shoulder and he visibly stiffens a bit. Glancing sideways, the view of you in deep slumber against his body brings heat to his cheeks. He can hear his heart palpitating against his chest, the beat of it signifying his utter adoration towards your entire being.

He wants this moment to stay forever. The feeling of your cheeks pressed against his shoulder blades, the warmth radiating from your proximity, your soft snores accompanied by the sound of his running air conditioner. It was as if the two of you were the only ones left in this world, in his dimly lit room with no disturbance nor interference apart from the sound of faraway cars speeding the lonely city.

He wants it so bad.

Yet he knows that if he stays for even another second, he'll never let you go.

And he would rather go through this suffocating feeling a thousand times than to see the hurt on your face when you and Atsumu argues.

So ignoring the tightness in his chest, he picks you up in the most gentle way possible, carrying you to the athlete's room beside his and leaving with an evermore ache in his heart.

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 20

Chapter title: To Thine Own Self

A/n:  TALK ABOUT A BAD CHAPTER AM I RIGHT FELLAS...EYYYYYY. Anyway its Virgils birthday so i wanted to get this chapter out earlier!! Because my boi!! its his birthday!! Im love him!! Im very sorry to how bad this chapter is, its funny cause it basically contains nothing of substance. All I know is that Virgil is a flirty man, anyway enjoy some trash!!

First | Previous | Next

words: 3221

summary: Its Virgils birthday!

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, blood mention

Ao3 Link  

“Lo?” Patton shakes the lawyer softly, his coat tickling his face softly. Logan startles awake, his glasses falling carefully upon his lopsided face.

“E! Equals Mc scared!” He exclaims, Virgil groans from across the room toppling over to where Remy snores. “What time is it” Logan murmurs, sitting up as he adjusts his glasses. The knot tightens as Patton watched Logan adapt to the morning. His face flustered as the lawyer looked his way. “Oh, good morning Patton” Logan greets.

“Hi” He barely squeaks, he shakes himself out before extending his hand to Logan. Once their fingers connect, a quick warmth spreads over them, their bubble returns locking them safely away from the world. Soon Remy snores himself awake, pop! Patton watches as the bubble crumbles around them. “W-what happened here?” He questions, turning away from Logan.

“The case!” Virgil remembers “Patton! We have something to show you!” He rushes, swiftly taking Patton's hand unbeknownst to the quiet panic that flows over Patton. The relief when Virgil releases him is almost too much, its silly he knows but its a reflex. “Ok, we stayed up all night working on this” He shows Patton the board

“It was all a lie?” Patton reads, his soft eyes tracing the plethora of evidence. “What does that mean?” He inquires, the others turn to each other not sure how to respond. “You all need sleep” Patton decides, he adjusts his scarf making his way towards the door.

“Pat, come on” Logan begs, the lawyer turns cocking his head. “This has to mean something, I believe you ok?” Logan states Patton swallows. “George is innocent”

You'd think after months of fighting tooth and nail, Patton would gleam at those words. But as his eyes fell upon Logans, his entire body felt exhausted, defeated from the battle. Should he never emerge victorious he had already lost, lost something so special, nothing else compared.

“Maybe, but it doesn't matter now” Patton laments “Nothing we can do” He watches the board, a heavyweight places itself upon his chest. Pushing deeply as it constricts his every movement. He sees the others want to say more, after all, they had spent all night, sloppily theorizing. However, the doors opened as two small pairs of feet ran towards him.

“Papa!” Valerie cries jumping into her father's arms. Patton embraces her freely, preparing as Remus joins him, allowing himself to sit in Patton's other arm. After a brief shriek of laughter and moment of kisses, Patton smiles at Emile.

“Thank you so much for taking them last night” Patton gestures, wanting to never let this moment end. The dream he’d held for so long, sometimes he wondered how it ever became a reality. How he, out of all people, was blessed with children.

“Liam?” Patton calls listening as the door squeaked open, a piercing yet familiar sound. After a pause with no response, the lawyer stood from his desk, feeling lightheaded during this dark hour. He pushes through the house, stumbling blindly, a quick fear as rustles happen. He shakes his head allowing a quick smile to spread across his face. “Nothing to fear, I'm safe” He lies

“Cupcake?” A voice from out of the empty dark calls out, Patton really hated the nickname. Oh, how selfish that was. A sweet nickname, a sweet person and Patton hated it.

“Over here” He replies, his hands searching the wall finally reaching the lights. Allowing them to flicker awake. “Hi” He smiles softly, Liam grunts practically tripping over himself as he reaches the couch. Patton leans over, kissing his forehead carefully, adjusting his partner's hair.

“Beer” Liam requests, paying no mind to the kind gesture Patton performs. He could smell the alcohol practically wafting off of Liam, but it was late and he didn't have the energy to...run if need be. Once he returns with his opener, he sits. “What?” Liam mutters as Patton watches him expectantly.

“I was wondering if you had any more time to think...about what I asked you?” Patton began slow, making sure to keep his words simple. Liam huffs, rolling his tired eyes.

“You think you can raise children?” Liam mocks, Patton looks to the window, something comforting about the way the stars twinkled. It reminded him of someone, he couldn't pin it. He smiles again, a facade arises.

“I do, and I think you can too” Patton hopes, more convincing himself really.

“Then you are a fool and really naive if you think that pursuing this is a good thing” Liam finishes, the beer emptied before Patton can process his words. He tumbles as he makes his way mumbling angry to the room. A practically shattered Patton remains, the softest of tears fall from his eyes.

“Patton?” Logan waves gently in front of his face. The lawyer blinks before the lights come back on behind his eyes. He shakes slightly adjusting to his surroundings, shooting a quick look to his children.

“Sorry, must've spaced out!” He smiles shaky, nervous laughter practically pouring from him. “I'm really sorry but I have to go” he announces, the twin's yawn, leaning safely into their father. They loved Emile, they loved all of their dad's friends, but no place, no home, no person would ever feel as safe as Patton. Before he goes, Patton spins on his heel to face Virgil. “Hey, don't forget, my house this Thursday, birthday dinner” He reminds, Virgil bites down a smirk but nods

“You know it” He nods, almost excited at the prospect of some normalcy to return to his life. For almost the entire time he and Patton knew one another, Virgil would spend his birthday evenings at Patton's house. The lawyer would cook an extravagant meal full of the detectives' favorite foods, he would give him gifts and shower him with praises. It didn't change once the kids arrived, it simply improved. No matter what happened during the day, that was set. Breakfast with Roman, lunch with Logan perhaps. A quick ‘Happy Birthday Virge’ from either sure, but Patton's house, seven pm sharp? That was set in stone, and should they grow old, and expand their families far and wide. Virgil knew...it would always be like that.  

~~~

“And...done!” Roman cheers to himself, the rough tips of his fingers simply begging for a break. He marvels at his creation, nodding satisfied as he places the gift delicately in his drawer. Making sure its kept safe and hidden until Thursday.

“Judge Reial?” A rasped knock at the door beckons Roman's attention. His gaze falls upon a man waiting at his arch. He stands smiling as the man approaches. “I'm judge James McCoy” He greets, shaking his extended hand. A firm yet soft touch, a quick shiver as they part both sitting once more. “It's an honor to meet you” James admits, Roman feels his face arise. The heat spreading quickly, surely this was a joke?

“Likewise?” He tries, James chuckles. A deep boom, so smooth it moved across Roman pleasantly.

“Apologies, I just transferred here. I've read about your work...I mean you're incredible in court.” Roman had to wonder if he had the wrong person, he was just...himself. “I was requested to come here for a case, then I was offered a job and I wasn't going to miss the opportunity to work with you” He gushes, Romans blush only grows.

“That's so sweet thank you” Roman finds his bearings, a coy smile upon his face. “I mean, I get it all the time” He jokes, mission successful as yet another smile and laugh falls from James’s mouth. “Surely you didn't just move out here for me?”

“Don't flatter yourself” James teases, a smirk upon his face. Roman bites his lip stifling a laugh. “No I mean, I was iffy about taking the job but then my partner….he broke up with me so...new start ya know?” James explains, a raw honesty to his words. Roman nods, trying not to get excited at the developments as they unfold.

“Would you like to have lunch?” Roman blurts, a new sparkle in his eyes. James purses his lips “Thought we could maybe get to know each other” He proposes, Jame wants to hide his smile but his lips have their own mind.

“I'd love nothing more” James agrees, he collects his things at the ring of his phone standing as he goes. “It has been an absolute pleasure” He extends his hand once more, once again tickling Roman with possibility. “Lunch” He finalizes

“Lunch” Roman swoons, his back melting into the chair once more. He can feel his feet tap below him, dancing as the ideas sing throughout his mind.

“Hey Ro” Patton smiles through the door, Roman ushers him in. “You look giddy, what's up?” An uncertain expression befalls the lawyer, Roman shrugs into a shimmy.

“I just met someone” Roman marvels, realizing just how weird his insides felt. It felt like he had reverted ten years, a shiny new judge, he was dumb and easy to trick. He tripped over himself to be seen, and now here he was. People wanted to meet him, to see him. And for what? He wasn't some here, he wasn't this outstanding citizen. He sent people to jail, to spend the rest of their lives suffering.

“Bad people Ro” Virgil would take his hand, their words in whispers as Damian snuggled against them snoring softly. Roman wouldn't dare meet his eyes, fear of falling apart under their caring honesty. They weren't pools of dark mystery, they were swirling clouds of determination and ambition. Virgil's eyes radiated all he conquered, Roman loved them.

“What if they weren't bad? What if I made a mistake” He fears, the words only rising in panic. Virgil cups his face, his gentle hands tracing Romans almost perfect features. “What if I'm just like...him?” Roman dreads even the idea, but he knew it was always there. Forcing its way through the blockade. Virgil leans forward, taking Roman's lips on his own, knowing full well the judge would melt into the gesture. That for just this moment he would feel loved.

“You're not your father Roman, you never will be” Virgil assures, digging the point as far as he can. “Just this conversation, your concerns now, prove that. You care” He identifies, Roman wants to cry, but because for once in his life, he believes that maybe just maybe he really isn't. That all of his efforts and work, paid off. He is not his father.

Roman should feel sad, he misses Virgil so much. His stomach tug as even the slightest thing causes him to reminisce. But he's not, he loves Damian and he...cares for Virgil. Knowing that he's safe means the world. And something just cleared for him when Virgil uttered the words. As though he finally understood. He was...almost free. Should Virgil ever want to pursue him again or not, Roman would…

“Be ok” Roman mumbles, Patton stops his rocking of the stroller, the twins remain sleeping. “I'll be ok” He gleams. Patton forces a smile, nodding proudly of his friend. I wonder what that's like.

“That's good Ro, I'm proud of you” Patton squeezes his hand, his gaze returning to his source of joy. The twins sprawled across the stroller, sleeping carefully, cuddled with their respective stuffed toys.

“I...have a date!” He tilts his head, uneasy smile “Kind of?” He questions, Patton laughs.

“Oh?” He wonders, biting his lips as Virgil's name appears in his head.

“He's a judge, he just transferred here, he's cute and we are having lunch together” Roman finishes, drumming the desk lightly. “Guess too fast is my middle name!” He jokes, Patton swallows as his own words trail his mind, the crushing look Logan gave him replaying like an old station.

“Light and breezy” Patton nods slowly.

“Light and breezy!” Roman sings, feeling genuine, deep-rooted happiness. Unaware of the fragile demeanor of the lawyer across from him, as his world threatens to crumble, the regrets of everything he's ever done in his mind. The desperation as his heart aches to him, calling out to Logan, the phrase ‘miss so much’ we an understatement. He yearned for something he left of his own will, what an absolute...idiot he was.

Don't get emotional Patton

~~~

“I will be there soon Pat...yeah I love you too” Virgil chuckles, stuffing the phone into his pocket as he pushes through the door into the precinct. The still quiet of the building causing unease in the detective so used to the bustling bounces of the room. He turns into the room fully expecting to have the frozen solitude to himself, alas as the lights flicker on he releases a soft gasp. “Roman?” He whispers. The judge stands idle by Virgil's desk, a small amber box alight in his hands.

“Hey” He smiles, the exhaustion under his eyes visible.

“What are you...what are you doing here?” Virgil questions, their voices remain ever so soft.

“Happy birthday” He rushes, skipping a few steps. Virgil's eyes widen as he nods, taking a step forward. Roman looks enchanting under the dim lights, his aura blazing passion.

“You remembered?” He's not sure why he questions it every time, Roman has never forgotten his birthday. He's never had a reason to assume someone, especially his friends would forget, and yet he lives in fear.

“Of course” Roman laughs so sweetly, it barely makes a sound “December nineteenth, you were born at exactly six forty four pm. You didn't cry at first so your mom was pretty worried, but it turns out you were just a little shy” He chuckles, neither understand why there are tears making their way down the men's cheeks. “You were a pretty light baby. Your favorite birthday was your sixteenth when your mom took you to a concert for the first time, but your sixth comes pretty close after you got to tag along with your dad on a case” Roman recites, the absolute adoration flooding his eyes. “You always spend your evenings with Patton, no matter what.” Roman moves closer, allowing the distance between them to circulate warmth.

“What are you doing?” Virgil hopes, maybe a little too much that he gets closer.

“I have a gift…” Roman's eyes move towards Virgil's lips “For you” He states, carefully he lifts it placing it in the detective's palm. “I know its small but uh...happy birthday Virge,” He says, overwhelming conviction. Virgil carefully undoes the ribbon, the paper falling with it. Virgil sucks in, his breath falling short. A small cloud, with lighting coming out of it, sits at the bottom of the box. “It's a worry stone, carved like a storm cloud”

“Because I'm your storm cloud?” Virgil groans, a knowing smirk. Roman laughs nodding sweetly.

“Because you are my storm cloud” Roman leans in stopping himself, he knows he's going to regret his next move but he takes his waist and locks their lips. Virgil allows it to happen, his arms snaking their way around Roman's neck.

“What was that?” Virgil questions, not entirely opposed to the idea, his arms remaining.

“Think of it as a breakup kiss, and a birthday present” He shrugs, Virgil chuckles shakily. “I have a proposition,” He says removing his arms, taking hold of Virgil's hands.

“Oh do tell” Virgil plays with Romans fingers in his own.

“You say we’re moving too fast then let's start again. From the top, Virge you're basically my best friend” Roman can't keep still, Virgil feels the warmth spread as he stays safe in his arms. “I'm not gonna let that slip away, and I'm not gonna let Damian slip away. Come on, I know you miss me” Roman teases, Virgil pouts stretching Romans arms behind him, he leans in planting a kiss on Roman.

“Maybe just a lil bit” Virgil states, Roman, shakes his head still smiling.

“Virge...I'm serious” Roman begs, Virgil nods allowing him to continue. “I wanna do this right, please” He requests, Virgil has no qualms.

“Yes of course” He purses his lips feeling Romans phone buzz, he smirks coyly, removing it from his back pocket. Roman barely puts up a fight. “Oh? Who's James?” Virgil wonders, Roman rolls his eyes “Come on best friend, whos the dude, I bet-” Roman leans in kissing him

“We can start tomorrow” Roman tries to grab his phone back but Virgil lifts above his head shaking it. He takes it scrolling through the previous texts giggling after each one, a contagious joy spread from the two. And before the hour strikes seven, it's just them in their delighted aura.

~~~

“I think alcohol might have been a bad idea” Roman jokes, Logan grunts sitting down as he simply takes another sip of his drink. “Come on Lo, we should head home” Roman suggests, feeling the high of Virgil's lips upon his own drain away

“Im...going to propose to Patton” Logan decides, he flops on the couch, the music quiets as the people around him continue. Roman guffaws, a bellowed laugh.

“Yeah, alright Logan. I think you have to be dating first” Roman takes a calm sip of his drink, observing the world around him. Logan

“I'm not kidding Roman” Logan sits up, adjusting his glasses “I've known him for ten years. I practically know everything about him” Logan shrugs “I know he takes his coffee with cream and two sugars, a hint of cinnamon. I know that his favorite color is the rainbow because it changes every day. I know today its violet for Virgil's birthday. I know that he checks on the twins at least three times before going to bed himself.  I know that there are only two people who can touch him without causing him to flinch. I know that when he balls his fists he digs his nails so deep into his skin he draws blood.” Roman doesn't want to listen anymore, his heart hurts as he watches Logan defeated

“Logan you do-”

“I know that turtlenecks provide him some sense of comfort as they wrap in warm coziness. I also know he used to use them to hide scars” Logan takes a shattered breath “I know that when he kisses me my heart beats a million times faster…” Logan rubs his forehead frustrated “I know that he can never have his eyes or hands away from the twins. And I know that...that” He pauses sucking in his huffed tears

“Logan? What?” Roman wants more

“I just like him so much” Logan moans, sprawling across Roman. “I wanna give him butterfly kisses” He pouts, Roman laughs stroking the lawyers head gently. “Do you know what those are? With the eyes?” His pout only furthers, as tears well in his eyes. He clutches to the pillow, his glasses drooping.

“I know bud, I know” He whispers carefully, not wishing to ruin the night further. Its funny, Roman had only seen Logan like this once before, and it was also about Patton. It's almost ironic in a way.

“Mm, my phone is buzzing” Logan mumbles, his arm making grabby towards the device. Roman takes it for him, asking him to put in his code. “What's happening?” He mutters into the couch pillow. Roman reads, the grin slowly disappearing.

Logan, please help

Patton was being vague, and Roman couldn't handle that