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sher-soc-the-famder · 5 years

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The Price Of Love

Summary: Roman had lived a long life, at some point along that road, he probably should have learned some common sense. Too bad he didn't have enough to not get drunk and summon a demon into his house. Logan probably would have warned him not to, had he not been out of town. Virgil is less than happy about their new housemate; Roman just wants to survive the bedroom eyes Deceit keeps giving him.

Deceit-

Deceit finds he wants to hear Roman laugh one more time.

Word Count: 13529

Pairings: Roceit, Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Temp Major Character Death, Kidnapping, Suggestive themes, Blood, Violience, PTSD, Panic attacks

Notes: Write a short one shot for a prompt, I said. Well, if this is short, I’m not sure what my long fics are. Patton gets mentioned but doesn’t make an apperence rip, but there’s a near endless amount of Roceit and Platonic Prinxiety? With a bonus of Platonic ThomasxRoman? ANWYAS here’s you’re prompt reply @wisepuma23 and @impatentpending wanted to be tagged for all of these I believe 😂

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“You’re a moron.”

Roman groaned and thunked his head against his table again. He didn’t have to with the way it already ached but the drama in the action felt like it suited his situation. He didn’t have to look up to know Virgil wore a scowl on his face. He groped blindly along the table until his hand close around a glass. He threw it in the direction of Virgil’s voice, wincing at the crash from hitting the wall.

“Fuck you too,” Virgil said casually, “Also that would have been my neck, congratulations you’re now a murderer as well as a Satanist.”

“Shut up,” Roman whined. “I’m hungover and sold my soul to a demon. You have to be nice to me.”

“I’m a ghost. By that logic, you have to be nice to me since I’m dead,” Virgil pointed out. Roman fantasized about finally managing to hit Virgil over the head instead of just throwing things through him. Some best friend Virgil was. Roman was going to run away to Logan’s house, vampire or not, and let the nerd be his best friend.

“Aren’t you some pure mythical creature anyways?” Virgil continued. The teasing in his voice finally prompted Roman to turn his head so he could glare at Virgil. Virgil smirked at him. “Innocence and rainbows pour from your ass.”

Roman dragged his arms up so that he could bury his head in them. It wouldn’t do much to block out Virgil’s voice but it made him feel better. He could just magic the whole thing away but his stomach would have to stop protesting first. God, magic while hungover was almost as bad as magic while drunk.

“I could banish you,” he muttered into his arms. The temperature in the room dropped and Roman ignored the twinge of his heart. If Virgil still didn’t believe that Roman wanted him around after reviving the dead, Roman didn’t know what else he could do. Well, he did, he just needed his head in the right place first. “I can access untold power-”

“Roman!” Virgil said sharply, and Roman’s head snapped up. A cool hand caressed his cheek, and Roman stared at the gold eyes that met his own.

“Oh Master,” the demon purred, leaning into his space. Roman’s heart skipped a beat and he swore violin music started up in the background. The temperature dropped even more, and Virgil growled. “If you wanted the little pest gone, all you had to do was say.”

“N- no, that’s- I mean- Virgil’s always welcome here,” Roman managed to stutter out. The demon smirked at him, and pulled back. The place where they had touched him felt unusually warm. Then again Roman felt unusually warm.

“Very well,” the demon said with an elegant wave of their hand. “Whatever you wish Master.”

The demon turned and strode out of the kitchen, headless of the ice starting to crawl up the windows from Virgil’s anger. Roman reached up to touch the place those cool hands had been and watched them go.

“Stop staring at their ass,” Virgil hissed. “They want your soul.”

“Yeah,” Roman tried to agree, but it came out as more of a dreamy sigh. “Yeah they do.”

Roman snuggled his blankets closer. Everything felt so wonderfully warm and soft; he didn’t need to get up for another hour. If he went truly literal, he wouldn’t have to get up for another week before his body started to demand food. He could be as lazy as he wanted, especially since he had left the TV on for Virgil which meant the ghost wouldn’t bother him for entertainment for a good long while.

He hummed and relaxed into his bed even more. Soft and fluffy and perfect. He was pretty sure he had it commissioned by a witch in the twelfth century and he’d never been able to find its equal. Truly, she had been a talent and he didn’t regret giving her a few locks of hair and a vial of blood to work with in exchange.

He almost drifted off back to sleep when a crash sounded. Roman debated finding out what Virgil had done now, when the smell permeating his room finally processed. His eyes snapped open. A cup of coffee sat on his vanity, steam curling off of it and a small pitcher of cream and sugar next to it all.

Right. It wasn’t just him and Virgil in the house anymore.

Roman reached for the mug and held it carefully in his hands, eyeing the door. He really didn’t want to get into the middle of whatever the other two were fighting about now. He dipped his finger in the coffee casually and reminded himself that his latest housemate had a name that he needed to find out.

He pulled his finger out of his coffee. Confident now that it wasn’t poisoned, Roman reached over to pour a dollop of cream into it and dump all of the sugar into it as well. He cradled his mug to his chest as he climbed out of bed and flicked his finger. With a small burst of magic his normal morning robe settled around his shoulders, soft and perfect.

Satisfied, Roman shuffled towards the kitchen.

“Oh that’s just brilliant,” the demon hissed at Virgil. Roman blinked and leaned against the doorway, eyes drifting to Virgil hovering in the corner as he took a sip of his coffee. Huh, pretty good. Virgil glared back down at their new roommate. “Throwing a tantrum like a child will truly get you what you want.”

“Well, I certainly can’t clean it up, and seeing as I can’t shove you out of the house, throwing things will have to be our compromise.”

Roman raised an eyebrow and glanced down. The remains of one of his nicer bowls scattered the ground, and with it what looked like homemade oatmeal. He hadn’t even know he had the ingredients for homemade. Normally, he just ordered take out.

“Some compromise,” the demon muttered, crouching down to start picking shards out of the food and tossing them in the trash. “It will totally get me to leave and make Roman happy.”

Roman sighed, and waved his hand. The demon flinched back as the broken dish and oatmeal neatly lined itself up and flew to the sink. The Sword in the Stone had been a wonderful movie, and truly the short of Mickey doing cleaning magic had been an inspiration. Roman hadn’t cleaned his house the normal way for decades after that. Sure, he had to invent a few spells for it, but worth it.

The demon whirled to face him, and Virgil gave a half-hearted wave.

“A good morning to you both,” Roman greeted. He eyed the table and the food spread out over it. Fruits dominated the table, ripe strawberries, freshly cut apples, blueberries, kiwis, pomegranates and more. Pastries sat in the middle and Roman wondered where the demon had gotten the ingredients for all of them. Or the time to make them. Either there had been magic involved, or the demon hadn’t slept.

“Why, it certainly is now that the sun has risen,” the demon winked at him and Roman felt a blush crawl up his face. Virgil gagged in the background.

“Butter him up a little more why don’t you,” Virgil hissed, floating over to Roman’s side. “Does it make his soul slide down easier, or do you just like the flavour?”

Right. Yes. Demon who he had sold his soul to. Caution and all that nonsense was needed and-

The demon sauntered forward and Roman felt his thoughts short out. Gold eyes smouldered up at him through the demon’s lashes. Roman swallowed thickly taking a step back until his back hit the wall. The temperature in the room slammed to the floor.

“Back off!” Virgil shouted as the demon bracketed Roman against the wall.

“Oh but you mentioned flavour and now I’m curious as to how someone so delectable looking tastes.” Roman squeaked as the demon leaned forward into his space. They licked their lips and Roman couldn’t help but watch the action. Magic. He had magic. He should do something. One of the demon’s fingers pressed against his chin, tilting his head up. “I’m sure you would be divine.”

“Name!” Roman blurted, his heart thumping too loud in his ears. He wondered if the demon could hear it. He pushed them back gently, desperately trying to create space for his thoughts. He inched past the demon towards the table, and ignored the way that Virgil tried to attach himself at his side. Roman laughed nervously. “If you’re sticking around- I mean, since it seems like you’re staying- I mean! Something to call you! Please!”

Wind brushed through his hair as Virgil tried to hit him upside the head.

“Think with your brain and not your dick for once,” Virgil hissed.

“Easy for you to say,” Roman hissed under his breath back at him. “You don’t have any physical needs anymore.”

“A good thing too, considering you can’t seem to manage anything, what did you decide to forget how to be an adult as soon as I died or was that a decision you made after you brought me back-”

“If I may interrupt,” the demon cut in smoothly.

“No,” Virgil snapped.

“You can do whatever you want,” Roman mumbled under his breath at the same time. A quicksilver grin crossed the demon’s face before settling into the same seductive look. Roman reminded himself that he was a proud unicorn with magic his fingertips who didn’t need no man.

Or demon.

The demon swept into a bow, pulling the hat off of their head in an added flair to the action that Roman adored. Virgil glowered even more, and Roman tried not to pout. Spoil sport. Roman’s heart beat kicked back up a notch as the demon took his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his palm.

“Deceit,” the demon murmured as Roman tried to keep from melting into the floor. He looked up at Roman and smirked, “But you can call me whatever you’d like.”

“Deceit works,” Roman said breathless.

“Of course it does,” Virgil said, “Because they’re a demon who wants to trick you.”

“He,” Deceit snapped back before glancing back at Roman, “He wants to make sure that his master eats a well balanced breakfast.”

“Please don’t call me master,” Roman managed to choke out as Deceit ushered him towards the table. The slight brushes of his fingers against Roman’s arm almost seemed to burn and Roman tried to focus on the food in front of him instead of the thoughts wondering how those fingers would feel running down his side or-

“Suuure you do,” Virgil drawled, eyeing the food suspiciously. “Just like you just want to help or make Roman happy too I bet.”

“I’m so glad you’ve figured me out,” Deceit snapped back, “Feel free to leave.”

“Yeah like I’m gonna leave you alone with Mr. Blissed-Out over there,” Virgil muttered. Roman glanced up from where he had started to select what food he wanted to eat. He couldn’t down the whole table in one go, at least, not while as a human. But goddammit, it had been too long since he had quality greek yogurt.

“Well, I’m glad that someone is enjoying themselves,” Deceit purred, slipping into the chair next to Roman’s. He propped his head up with his hands, watching as Roman filled his plate. Roman filled the silence with a soft hum. He paused and glanced over at Deceit.

“Don’t demons need to eat too?”

“Let ‘em starve,” Virgil muttered and Roman waved him away. Stupid mistake in selling his soul aside, Roman knew he’d be able to take Deceit easily. He wasn’t in any huge danger. Deceit blinked at him, visible surprised for half a second before tucking the expression away. Which was too bad, he looked adorable with wide eyes.

“I can eat later,” Deceit said simply before leaning in with a smirk, “Besides, who wouldn’t want to watch such a wonderful-”

Roman cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“No, no, stop, no flirting until you’ve eaten. Eating with other people is better anyways,” Roman said. He missed- well he missed having a herd to share his food with, but as time went on the more unicorns that were together the more they’d be targeted. Better to lay low, and do it alone, then to risk the herd as a whole.

He picked up one of the strawberries on his plate and offered it to Deceit. Virgil grumbled behind him, but couldn’t risk much more than that without destroying Roman’s kitchen. Deceit stared at him for a long moment, face unreadable. Roman wanted to roll his eyes and insisted again. No one deserved to go hungry.

Deceit’s face shifted and Roman swallowed at the way his eyes lit up.

“Well them,” Deceit said, leaning forward, “If you insist.”

Roman almost flinched back as Deceit’s fingers wrapped around his wrist. Cold, yet they seemed to sear through his skin as Deceit pulled Roman’s hands closer to himself. Roman found himself staring at Deceit, whose eyes didn’t waver from his. Not even as he bent down and took a bite of the strawberry. The room could have been a fridge with Virgil’s rage. Roman couldn’t help the way that his lips parted and his body locked up.

Juice dripped down Deceit’s lips, and Roman watched the pink tip of his tongue dart out to lick at it. Roman shifted in his seat and tried to think about ugly thoughts, like the bags under Virgil’s eyes or the tone that Logan’s voice took when lecturing him. It didn’t help the way that his pants rapidly became uncomfortable.

Deceit took another bite, closing his mouth around the rest of the strawberry, and in a move that had to be deliberate, nipping at the tips of Roman’s fingers.

God, he was going to hell and Roman wouldn’t regret a single step on the way down.

Deceit finally let go of his wrist and sat back, looking for all the world like the cat that finally caught the canary. Roman’s hand didn’t move. Roman tried to think of something other than the way Deceit’s teeth had felt on his fingers and the sight of juice dripping down his lips. Anything else at all.

Deceit grinned, an expression with all teeth.

“Juicy.”

Roman thought for a moment steam could come out of his ears from how hot he felt. The giggle that slipped from his lips felt slightly hysterical and he couldn’t put the thoughts together he needed to respond. He knew himself. If he opened his mouth he’d say something he’d regret and make Virgil want to strangle him. Like asking if Deceit wanted a banana next just to see those lips close around something a little larger.

Deceit leaned forward, all liquid grace and if Roman was honest, sex.

“Well you can’t expect me to eat only one strawberry.” Deceit reached out to run a hand along Roman’s cheek. Something close to a wheeze escaped his mouth. Death approached and for once Roman didn’t care. Death was beautiful and handsome and apparently really great at flirting.

Virgil outright growled behind them and the windows rattled. Deceit’s hand snapped up from Roman’s face to catch the mug that flew at him. It hit his palm with a meaty thunk, and Deceit tossed it to his other hand so that he could catch the second one that followed it.

“Why thank you Virgil,” Deceit rolled his eyes and set both mugs on the table, “I think a refill of coffee is a marvelous idea. I’m a fan of things that could burn me after all.” Deceit leaned into Roman’s space again. “And I am rather good with my hands.”

Roman choked on air, and dropped to the floor out of an instinct born from years of knowing Virgil. He ducked under the table as dishes and food threw themselves across the room, all aimed at Deceit. Perhaps one decade they’d managed to go from Virgil doing it as an emotional response to a conscious decision!

Deceit rolled smoothly out of the way, and Roman, well, Roman took the chance to stare at his ass again. Roman pressed his fingers to his lips to try and muffle his squealing. Virgil would turn everything on him once he realized that Roman was enjoying himself rather than appalled at Deceit’s behavior.

Deceit threw him another wink as he twisted out of the way of a knife. A blush rose on his face again as Virgil’s howls rang throughout the room. God, they were all horrible.

Roman loved it.

The drink burned as it slid down Roman’s throat, and he slammed the glass back down on Logan’s counter. Logan obligingly poured him another shot like a good nerd. History nerd, which was a special sort of immortal. Roman giggled to himself at the thought and ignored the way that Logan rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t Roman’s fault that Logan had the best fae brewed alcohol in the area.

A warm arm wrapped around his waist, and Roman hummed happily as Thomas hooked his chin over Roman’s shoulder.

“You know,” Thomas mumbled into his neck, there wasn’t enough slur to his words and Roman offered him another shot. Thomas took it like the amazing deity and god that he was. Thomas paused, and Roman guess he was trying to remember what he had been trying to say. “You know, that I love you right?”

Roman sipped at his drink, and grinned at Logan. All he got was rolled eyes. Rude. There was- there was a song for this-

“And from his lava came this song of hope that he sang out loud every day for-” Roman sang as he cradled his drink close. He screwed up his face, trying to remember what the next line in the song was. “For- For- Thomas help.”

“For years and years,” Thomas’ chuckle vibrated through Roman and Roman leaned back against his chest. His voice joined Thomas’ blending just like- like someone had stuck them in a blender. Smoooooth.

“I have a dream, I hope will come true, that you’re here with me, and I’m here with you. I wish that the earth, sea, and sky up above-a, will send me someone to lava.”

Roman giggled at the look on Logan’s face. He reached out to boop Logan’s scrunched up nose, only Thomas grabbed his wrist and dragged his hand back before Roman could actually touch Logan. Not fair.

“You are ridiculously drunk,” Thomas told him, amusement and fondness rolling down Roman’s spine.

“More like just plain ridiculous,” Logan muttered. Mean. Logan was a meany pants who didn’t want to have any fun. “I would argue that this could be counted as entertainment in any way,” Logan said, and whoops, Roman must have said that last bit out loud. “I do believe that it is time to cut you off however.” Roman whined as Logan pried his fingers off of his shot glass. Something exploded down the hall and Logan glared at him. Roman simply pouted at him.

“You’re going to be fixing that when you’re sober,” Logan told him as he placed the stolen glass into the sink. Roman took the moment to snag the actual bottle of alcohol. Logan sighed. “Thomas, if you would, please.”

Thomas took the bottle from Roman with a grin. Roman tried to glare at him, but he couldn’t tell which of the three Thomases in front of him was the original one. Why were they all cheating? Didn’t they know that Roman was amazing and perfect in every way and thus they should just trust his decisions without question?

“I think you’ve gotten the two of us mixed up,” Logan said primly as he sat down across from them with a wine glass full of a blood red liquid. Probably because it was blood. Roman swore he was normally better at metaphors than this.

“I think you’re both pretty perfect,” Thomas said, like the angel he was. Angel, god, Thomas, what was the difference?

“You’d be drinking too if- if- if- you had to put up with them,” Roman pointed at Logan’s face. He yelped as Thomas picked him up and settled the two of them back down on the chair together. Warm and comfy, Roman melted into his lap.

“Ah, yes, the mysterious new housemate of yours. The one that compelled you to march over here and get drunk before even giving a greeting,” Logan mused, “I didn’t see them move in, have you been planning it for a while?”

“Wasn’t planned at all,” Roman complained, “And now Virgil’s mad at me for selling my soul-” Thomas’s fingers spasmed along his arms- “and Deceit’s unfairly hot and he just! He keeps looking at me and being nice and it’s no fair. I’m gay. Thomas, I’m really, really, really gay.”

“I can’t tell if you mean that as a swear or if you want to remind me that you’re gay,” Thomas said. Something felt off about his tone, so Roman wriggled around to pat Thomas on the cheek. Thomas like Roman and affection! Two in one and Thomas couldn’t be upset anymore!

“I’m very glad you’re gay,” Thomas said patently, grabbing his wrist again. It must be a good wrist since people kept grabbing it. “But could we go back to the fact that you sold your soul?”

“You still get first dibs,” Roman reassured him. Thomas didn’t look very reassured at his words. Roman wondered why he took a long drag out of the bottle in his hand. Even Logan had set his wine glass down to stare at him. Awww, the nerd did care about him. Virgil owed him twenty bucks.

“Enlighten us as to how he came to live at your house?” Logan asked quietly. His eyes glowed red in the dim light, and Roman almost reached out to touch them again. They looked like rubies and Roman liked rubies. “Roman!” Logan snapped, and breathed out slowly as Roman blinked at him. “Focus. Please.”

“Dunno,” Roman said, shrugging his shoulder. “It was the anniversary and I was alone, and then it wasn’t and there were more people in my house.”

Logan’s face crumpled. Thomas made a wounded noise in the back of his throat and took another long drag from the bottle of alcohol. Roman shrugged again.

“‘s been nice,” he continued, heedless of the way that Thomas’ grip on him tightened even more. Bruising if he had been a human. Like Virgil was. No wait. Like Virgil had been. “House feels less empty now,” Roman whispered, curling in Thomas’ lap even more. “Don’t mind it. He’s been nice, ‘cept for pickin’ fights with Virgil. Or Virgil pickin’ fights with him.”

Logan reached out and ran a dull claw down his arm.

“My apologies,” he said softly, “It had escaped my noticed that it was that time of year again.”

“‘s fine,” Roman said, reaching out to pat Logan on the face. “You had that thingy with Pat-pat, and needed Thomas’ help and was too dangerous for me.” He wished he could have another fucking drink. “Always too dangerous for me.”

“We just want to keep you safe,” Thomas said softly, setting the bottle in his hand down so he could run a hand through Roman’s hair. Roman liked his hair, long and soft. He should get Patton to braid it the next time he was in town.

“Can keep myself safe.”

“Apparently not, considering we left you in your warded house, in a city that’s well known for being uneventful, and you still managed to lose ownership of your soul,” Logan pointed out. “Not to mention that the price for the ingredients that you can get from a unicorn has gone up again-”

“Logan,” Thomas said sharply. Roman blinked. Oh. He trembled in Thomas’s arms, which must be why Thomas sounded so upset.

“I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be the last,” he whispered.

“You won’t be,” Thomas said fiercely. He hooked his chin over Roman’s head, bracketing him from all sides. Keeping him safe from a world that Roman had once traveled through freely. “I promise, you won’t be.”

“I want to trust him,” Roman felt the words spill from his mouth. “I know I shouldn’t. Virgil keeps- keeps- keeps- doing the thing. Virgil keeps my head on, even though he’s dead and should be the one missing a head. But Deceet- Dese- De keeps being nice.”

“Someone who’s nice isn’t always trustworthy.” Logan’s hand left his arm and Roman whined. He wanted to cuddle someone, everyone.

“Nice like you,” Roman mumbled. “D reminds me to eat, and yells at Virgil, and watches Disney with me, and make those funny faces, and is way too hot, and- and- and-”

Roman turn to look up at Thomas with wide eyes.

“He did improv with me,” Roman said breathlessly. “Not even you and Patton did that.”

“Yes I did,” Thomas said, that something warm and fond back in his voice. It wasn’t quite the same, but Roman didn’t want to think about it too much. Better that Thomas was happy.

“Yeah but you’re my god,” Roman pouted, “Thinking about having sex with you is weird. Like thinking about having sex with my dad-”

Thomas leaned down to bump their foreheads together. Roman snapped his mouth shut and leaned forward to press a sloppy kiss to Thomas’ cheek. Thomas grinned at him, and scratched at his scalp in the perfect sort of way.

“Let’s never mention this again,” Thomas suggested, and Roman mumbled his agreement.

Logan squinted at them both.

“Thomas, it is my conclusion that you are more drunk that I thought.” Logan held out a hand, “Perhaps it’s time for Roman to sleep and you to clear out your system.”

“Noooooo,” Roman kicked his feet through the air. “Don’t wanna sleep here. Your bed sucks. Like you. You suck and your bed sucks!”

“Very mature,” Logan rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and glared down at Roman. “Very well, prove to me that you can make it home under your own power and I shall let you leave.”

“Easy!” Roman pushed himself off of Thomas’ lap and wobbled in place. He blinked and squinted his eyes at the wavering door at the other end of the room. He took a step forward and felt his legs give out from underneath him. Huh, he really was drunk.

Twice in the same month, that had to be a record.

Thomas reached out and helped balance him. For a long moment, Thomas just stared at him, eyes searching Roman’s face. A quiet whisper of familiar magic drifted over his skin, and Roman hummed, letting the sleeping spell settle through his own magic.

Thomas placed a hand on his cheek, and for a moment he seemed like something more.

“He has no claim to you,” Thomas said, his voice as soft as a breath on the wind. “You are mine, and I have no plans of revoking that, ever.”

Roman slumped into Thomas’ arms, mind drifting off to soft words. He blinked sluggishly at the sound of the doorbell ringing. Logan didn’t have friends. Or, Logan didn’t have friends that weren’t already there or who wouldn’t have just let themselves in. Silence echoed through the house and Roman nuzzled closer to Thomas’ chest.

The door creaked open.

“Can I- Oh,” Logan’s voice fell flat and sharp. “You are not welcome here.”

“A sentiment that I can feel down to my non-existent soul.” Roman shifted in Thomas’ arms at the sound of Deceit’s voice. He turned his head and waved an arm in Deceit’s direction. “Ah, there he is. I shall simply pick up the wayward prince and be on my way.”

“He doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Thomas said stiffly.

“Oh honey,” Deceit purred. He held an arm out in invitation, and Roman wiggled out of Thomas’ hold to tuck himself into Deceit’s side. It felt cooler than Thomas had been, but Roman relaxed anyways. Deceit tucked a lock of his hair back behind his ear. “I don’t make him do anything any more than you do.”

Thomas’ presence swelled, a silent, angry threat. Roman thought it felt like a heavy blanket. Then again Thomas wouldn’t rip him to shreds if he said the wrong thing. He hummed and nuzzled at Deceit’s neck. Deceit froze, and Roman wondered if Logan had bared his fangs at him.

He looked up to meet Deceit staring at him with wide eyes.

“Goin’ home?” he asked, a quiet pleading whine.

“Yeah,” Deceit said softly. Soft like a pillow; Roman liked it. “We’re heading home, my prince.” Roman hummed happily and fell limp in Deceit’s hold. Thomas’ voice floated over his head, and Deceit’s sharp reply added to the almost lullaby of the sounds of his favorite people.

Roman snuggled close to Deceit, and thought that, for a demon, he felt impossibly safe.

Roman hummed, socked feet gliding down the hall. He felt pretty certain that Virgil had headed over to visit Logan for the night. Roman knew that before Deceit had shown up Virgil didn’t head out of the house all that much. Guilt churned in his stomach as he rounded a corner to the next smooth hallway.

He had been selfish in bringing Virgil back; he knew that. Humans weren’t meant to be forever, but he had gotten so attached. Vampires used to be humans and they generally turned out fine, so he had thought it could be the same for Virgil. Roman had forgotten about the generally.

There was a very good reason that Logan obsessed over his books and learning and history.

A bored vampire became a feral vampire.

Roman closed his eyes and twisted his body into a spin. He transitioned from a bastardized version of not quite ice skating into the fluid movements of ballet. For a moment he wasn’t trapped in his own house, spacious as it was, but showing off for the theater once more. The lights of the stage warming his body as he threw his everything into the performance. Music swelled in his mind, and Roman leapt into the air.

Normally, he used his magic to cushion his fall. This time solid hands wrapped around his waist and spun him through the air. Roman’s eyes snapped open, and only long decades of practice kept him from reaching down to grab Deceit’s wrist for balance. He held his pose until Deceit lowered him back to the ground.

Roman breathed heavily, distantly noting that Deceit’s hands didn’t leave his waist. Moonlight streamed through the window behind them and lit up Deceit’s hair with a soft glow. For a moment, the suffocating quiet of the house felt a little lighter.

“Isn’t it a little late for a prince like you to be up?” Deceit asked softly. His hands squeezed Roman’s waist gently before taking a step back. Roman longed for him to come back, for the comforting weight of another person, of him. “While I would be flattered if you were up because the dreams of me simply became too much, even you need to sleep.”

Roman chuckled and reached out to pat Deceit on the chest. What? Deceit flirted with him, Roman simply flirted back and if that meant running his hands along that glorious body, he was a gay, gay man. He shrugged and gestured at Deceit to follow him as he walked back to the main area of the house.

“I get restless,” Roman said. He ran his fingers along the paneling of the wall, watching the way that Deceit watched him out of the corner of his eyes. “Being alone is difficult enough, being alone and having to stay in one place just aches some days. It happens time to time, don’t worry about it.”

Deceit stared at him with unreadable eyes.

“How long?”

“Hmm?” Roman asked as he opened up the kitchen doors. Maybe something warm would help him sleep?

“Here, let me,” Deceit pulled out a chair for him and strode to the fridge. “How long have you been here?”

Roman’s eyes dropped to the table and he traced patterns on it. Maybe he’d ask Logan to pick him up some paints from the store tomorrow. He should have fought harder for a house closer to shops and stores, even if it went against the whole point of him having a house.

“Nothing too bad, decades, give or take,” Roman mumbled, hunching in on himself. He flinched as a mug slammed against the counter.

“Why?” Deceit hissed. “Are they not aware of-”

“They are!” Roman cut him off. A part of him warmed at the fact that Deceit got defensive of him, but the rest of him brayed at the thought of someone insulting his makeshift herd. They weren’t unicorns like himself, but that didn’t mean they weren’t his family, his to care for and help support in anyway that he could.

“We all decided that this was for the best,” Roman tried to stress his own involvement in the situation. Being under house arrest so to speak felt better than being on the run and ending up under the knife of someone looking to use him for nothing more than ingredients and parts. “Yeah it sucks sometimes, and yeah sometimes I want to go out of my mind with boredom and recklessness but I don’t regret it.”

Deceit slid a cup of hot milk his way and leaned against the table. Roman didn’t reach out for it quite yet, instead leaning towards Deceit. Deceit reached out and ran a hand through his hair, following the trail down to his shoulders.

“I met Virgil here. I met my best friend here,” Roman said softly. Deceit nudged the mug towards him and Roman finally wrapped his hands around it. “It’s a place that I’ve long learned to call home. It is home. If I’ve learned anything over my life time it's that nothing’s perfect. Not even life itself. I’m willing to wait for centuries if that’s what it takes to get back to my people. The collapse of humanity, or of greed, or a shift in dynamic.”

“It might not happen,” Deceit whispered back. His eyes glittered with a righteousness even in the dark and Roman felt his lips quirk up at Deceit’s offence at his situation. “You could end up trapped here forever simply because of a fear of what could be.”

“It won’t be forever,” Roman said, throwing his shoulders back. He could still see the fire in Thomas’ eyes, the way the god had crouched down in front of a simple foal and promised. His god had promised that he would never know the pain of being the last of his kind. Roman had faith in Thomas, and he had faith in that promise.

“You can’t know that for sure,” Deceit leaned in even more, close enough that Roman could almost touch their noses together.

“I can hope though,” Roman said, just as fierce. His hands tightened around his untouched milk. “I can dream and I can wait. I’m not standing still,” he threw his head back. “I’m lying in wait.”

Deceit laughed, a short burst of sound before it cut off and Deceit looked surprised at his own reaction. Roman grinned at him, tapping his foot against the ground. He wanted Deceit to laugh more. He wanted Deceit to see the beauty that still existed even in a world that may hate them, or want to use them.

“Hamilton is not a good argument to use,” Deceit pointed out.

“Ah, but what a gift both the man and the musical was to the world.” Roman looked dreamily into the distance. What he wouldn’t have gave to be able to watch the performance in person, and not through a scry that Thomas set up for them all. It just didn’t feel the same.

“We can go see it someday,” Deceit offered, his hand reaching out to skim down Roman’s arm. Roman smiled at the idea, tinged with the bitter knowledge that when he did eventually get out of this house it wouldn’t be the same. Some things just weren’t meant to be.

“Someday,” Roman echoed. Deceit nudged him with a gentle kick.

“However, today is for sleep, which you should be getting.”

“Right, yes, I apologize for keeping you up,” Roman said, reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “You should head to bed-” Roman froze, and his eyes widened as he stared at Deceit. He scrambled to remember everything he kept in the house.

“Deceit,” Roman said slowly.”Where have you been sleeping?”

He only had one bed.

Deceit shrugged.

“The couch, though sleep isn’t truly necessary for me.”

“Lies! Even if you don’t need it, it can still help and everyone needs a little beauty rest now and then. It will make you feel marvelous to get a true night’s rest for once,” Roman said without a thought. He plowed forward, trying not to stop, because if he stopped then he’d realize that he was offering his bed to the man that he loved. “You can’t, nay! I refuse to let you keep doing this to yourself!”

Deceit rolled his eyes.

“You can’t just go out and buy a new mattress.” Roman waved his assumption off.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my bed is more than big enough for the both of us.”

Deceit froze and stared at him for a long moment. Roman felt his heart skip a beat and he shuffled awkwardly, before finally getting up from his chair to take care of his milk. Deceit should have taken the opening. Roman had laid a chance for flirting and innuendos right at Deceit’s feet and it remained untouched.

“You don’t have to, I mean, I could magic something up, or make the couch more comfortable if that’s what you want-”

“No,” Deceit said, his hand snapping out to grab Roman’s sleeve. Roman turned to look at him and Deceit coughed. He let go and fiddled with his hat, not meeting Roman’s eyes. “Your bed is fine.”

Roman felt a blush crawl up his cheeks and he jerked his head towards the door. His heart pounded in his ears and his mind repeated a mantra of don’t fuck this up . He held his arm out to Deceit.

“Well then, shall we?”

Deceit smirked at him as he pressed himself against Roman’s side. The now familiar look in his eyes made Roman grin even more even before Deceit opened his mouth. He wrapped his arm around Deceit’s and relished in the contact.

“I suppose if you are that eager to have me in your bed, I would be a fool to refuse you,” Deceit said, and Roman giggled. Deceit grinned back at him, a bright expression that Roman noticed didn’t show up all that often. He wanted to hope that he gave Deceit that expression. He wanted to think that it was the most honest expression Deceit gave him.

“Apparently, I am a prince,” Roman teased right back. He didn’t think the way that Deceit squeezed his arm was just his imagination. “It would be the greatest honor to bed with me.”

“Oh of that I am more than certain.” Deceit reached out to run a finger down Roman’s cheek. “The greatest honor indeed.”

Roman ducked his head and smiled up at Deceit. He couldn’t find the words to respond, and without Virgil’s usual intervention, Roman lacked the usual distraction that let him gather his thoughts against Deceit’s onslaught. Deceit’s grin grew, and he waved a hand towards Roman’s bedroom.

Roman tried to remind himself to breath as Deceit strode into his room. He could do this. If Deceit got handsy he could deal with it. Did he want Deceit to get handsy? It would fit with the flirting. Who wouldn’t want the hot man who wandered around their house to finally fulfill all their fantasies?

He wrapped his fingers around the fabric of his shirt to keep them from shaking and walked into his own room.

Deceit lounged out on the far side of the bed, hat hung up on one of the bed posts and shoes nowhere to be found. Roman sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Deceit’s ruffled hair against his pillow. Deceit stretched his arms up and Roman had to rip his eyes away from the way that Deceit’s shirt rode up his stomach.

He was going to die tonight no matter what happened.

This was the worst idea. Roman glanced back at Deceit, who seemed to be truly relaxing against the bed with Roman turned away from him. Sharp edges softened and Deceit looked so wonderfully pleased and delighted by the way he keep running his fingers over the soft blankets and silken sheet.

This had been the best idea.

Roman snapped his fingers and indulged himself in a little magic to change his clothes to something more comfortable. He took another steadying breath and braced himself to climb into bed. He turned around and walked through the heaviness of Deceit’s gaze.

“Oh I’m sure that you’ll be able to sleep like that,” Deceit said, stretching one leg out as Roman slid in next to him. “As stiff as a board, and all wound up tight.”

“So you want to relax me?” Roman slammed his lips shut. Deceit eyed him and sighed. His hand came up to brush through his hair, tousling it even more in a way that made Roman want to run his own fingers through it.

“Yes. But not in the way that you’re thinking,” Deceit said, short and blunt, like it had been pried out of him. “I want you to sleep. Maybe relax. I don’t want anything that you don’t.” He hesitated and the next sentence out of his mouth sounded hesitant. “Consent is sexy, and all that.”

“Oh,” Roman said, love and happiness curling around his heart to make a home there.

“I can-” Deceit gritted his teeth, “I can stop everything. If it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No!” Roman slammed a hand over his mouth and cursed his impulsiveness. He took a deep breath and smiled. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Good,” Deceit nodded his head, and settled down. Roman leaned in at the sight of what almost seemed to be a blush making its way across Deceit’s face and under his scales. It was the best . Roman wanted to know where else he blushed like that, and if they both wanted to- A pillow slammed into his face.

“I can hear your thinking from here,” Deceit hissed. “We’re not boning tonight. Virgil would kill me for real if I did that, and I don’t want it to be about just your body or your-”

Deceit’s jaw shut with an audible click. He rolled away from Roman, pulling the blankets up over his head as he did. His voice came out muffled but understandable.

“Just go to sleep already.”

Roman reached out. He scooted closer to Deceit until he could press his chest to Deceit’s back, and wrap an arm around Deceit’s waist. Deceit tensed, and then relaxed into his hold with what sounded like a soft sigh. His fingers threaded through Roman’s, and Roman buried his grin in Deceit’s neck.

“Love you too, you emotionally constipated monster,” Roman whispered.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It was alright. Deceit pulled him closer, tugging his arms until their hands rest over his heart, and Roman loved . He felt tension leak out of his body at the steady up and down of Deceit’s breath. He wasn’t alone. He felt like he was dreaming already.

If he was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up.

Roman laughed. The sound echoed down and through the house, filling spaces that had been filled with shadows. Deceit’s hand lead him into a spin, and Roman couldn’t help but add his own flourish to the action. His feet felt like they were flying over the floor. Everything around him blurred except for Deceit’s face and the feeling his hair spinning around his face.

He caught sight of Virgil in the back corner before Deceit swept him in a different direction. Roman laughed again, following Deceit’s lead as they danced across the room. Roman couldn’t remember what it was actually supposed to be for, not that it matter, the few pieces of furniture had been shoved to the side to make room for their dancing. The speaker that blasted music sat on top of one of the cabinets, and Deceit dipped him at the same time the music dropped.

The music clicked off and Roman stared at the brightness of Deceit’s eyes. He could feel both of their chests heaving from the exertion, and he knew that if he stopped to think about the sweat rolling down his back too much he’d run for the nearest shower. He still reached up to wrap his arms around Deceit’s neck.

Deceit chuckled and leaned forward to press his forehead against Roman’s. Roman screwed up his nose at the sweat-slick feeling of Deceit’s skin, but didn’t pull away. Their noses brushed against each other, as Deceit pulled Roman back up to a standing position. Roman's eyes dropped to his lips, and he leaned forward-

Deceit jerked back as a book flew where his face had been.

“Great, glad we all had fun, now I vote we do something else.” Virgil glided over to Roman's shoulders and glared at Deceit. Roman sighed and waved a hand through Virgil's arm. Virgil hissed at him.

“Thanks Dad-”

“Fuck that, Thomas is your dad and you know it-”

“-but I don't need a chaperone,” Roman finished over him. He rolled his eyes at the look on Virgil's face. “Nuh-uh, no, stop. Stooooop. You don't get to give me that look. I'm older than you are, I can take care of myself.”

“Debatable,” Virgil hummed. His lips twitched upwards as he floated backwards towards the door. Roman knew the look in his eye, sparkling with mischief and the glee he only got when knocking Roman down a peg. Roman sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as he lunged out of Deceit's arms in Virgil's direction.

“Don't you dare-!”

“Oh am I not supposed to mention the time when you decided to-”

“I will lock you in a jar!” Roman shrieked.

“-so you slid down the stairs and broke an arm at which point you decided-”

“I swear to all things we both find holy!” Roman shoved his magic at Virgil. Virgil disappeared mid-sentence with a slight pop, and Roman let out a deep breath. He turned back to Deceit. Deceit blinked slowly at him, eyes drifting to the spot Virgil had been and then back to his face.

“I didn't banish him,” Roman muttered, “Just sent him over to Logan's place. It's the closest I can get to tackling him these days.”

“You two seem,” Deceit paused, almost seeming to chew on his next word, “close.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah he just-” Roman faltered. How to explain the lonely teen that had run to Roman’s house thinking it was empty? How to explain the hope that he brought with him in the form of books, and stories, and his very presence? How to explain the angry adults that had coming looking for him and the way Roman just couldn’t stare at Virgil’s wide eyes and do nothing?

Were there even words for the way they had fought and clawed their way into each other’s hearts?

“He’s just Virgil you know?” Roman said finally, and grinned at Deceit, “Every sky needs its stars! Or a moon, I can never decide.”

Deceit held a hand out, and Roman took it. He followed Deceit back to the makeshift dance floor, this time for a more sedated waltz. Deceit pulled him close, arm snaking around his waist possessively.

“So you’ve never dated?”

Roman slapped Deceit on the chest. “What?! No! Ew, he’s like twenty! He was fifteen when we met! What sort of monster do you take me for?”

Deceit spun him again, and smirked at the affronted look on Roman’s face. Roman scoffed at him. Teasing from Virgil was bad enough, Deceit had some nerve to join in. He was thousands of years old! He had roamed this continent before humans ever had! He had seen corners of the world they never would and watched history bloom like a flower in front of his eyes!

“A soft one,” Deceit said, “Time has worn away any rough edges you might have had, and now you care too much even when you know you shouldn’t.”

Roman’s heart dropped to his toes. He stopped, pulling Deceit to a halt with him. He could feel his hands shaking. He jerked back, trying not to curl in on himself. He thought he heard Logan’s voice telling him that he had to breathe, Roman you have to keep breathing-!

A hand brushed against his cheek and Roman flinched back.

“Roman?” Roman blinked rapidly, trying to focus on Deceit’s face. The smell of iron hung in the back of his throat and Roman wrapped his arms around himself. It wasn’t then, it wasn’t then, it wasn’t then-

He tried to swallow. His mouth felt too dry. He wanted, desperately, for Virgil to still be there so that his voice could remind Roman that things were fine now.

“You want to know how he died?” Roman said. His voice cracked like his heart had that day. He dug his fingers into his arms to cover the phantom weight that sat in them.

“More like how he came back,” Deceit said slowly. His hands hovered in the air, and Roman wanted to laugh. Of course, as a demon Deceit wouldn’t know how to comfort someone when they broke down like this. Roman longed for Thomas, for soft words and a softer hand. He wanted his dad, his god.

“What’s the difference?” Roman snapped, taking a step back. His voice rose in pitch and volume. “It was my fault. It was all my fault!”

“What was?” Deceit asked softly, taking a step forward. Another dance. One that Roman didn’t want to be a part of. Anger rose with the grief, swirled together into a storm in his heart that Roman didn’t know how to control, thunder and lightning crashing together.

“You want to know?” he hissed. He drew himself up, and tried to tower over Deceit. “You want to know about how he disappeared? How they took him because they thought he could lead them to me?” He took a step forward and this time Deceit took a step back, his eyes unreadable.

“I could talk about the days I went out of my mind worrying for him because I couldn’t leave the house.” Roman laughed, wild and pained. “My best friend goes missing and I couldn’t go fucking looking for him!” Deceit’s lips thinned into a near invisible line but Roman plowed on.

“You want to hear how Logan and Thomas brought him back, near dead and bloody? How he begged for me even then? I’m a unicorn, I’m his best friend, his savior, so surely I could save him this time too, never mind the fault that being around me is what caused it in the first place!”

His chest heaved, and Roman could feel his nails bit into his skin. He felt out of control, a car hurtling towards a cliff and he couldn’t hit the brakes. He was going to explode into a fiery ball and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

“So I try,” Roman felt the way that his voice cracked again. “Of course I fucking try to do something, but I’m an idiot, always have been, always will be. And stupidly I don’t check for any other magic or curses.”

Roman fell silent, prying his hands off of his arms to stare at them. He could still picture Virgil’s body in them, still so young and with a life ahead of him. Should have had a life ahead of him. He could feel the warm blood dripping down them, the way that it stained his floors so badly he had to rip them out and put new boards in so he could walk by without having a panic attack.

He curled his fingers. Just like Virgil had when Roman’s magic betrayed them both, twisted by someone else into causing more damage instead of helping. The way Virgil’s body fell apart even more haunted him every year, like clockwork, shredded so badly that not even Logan could help. No mystical change to a vampire for them and their youngest.

No, all Roman got was to listen to Virgil beg him to make it stop. All he got was the soft feel of Virgil’s cheeks between his hands as he pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. All he got was the terror in Virgil’s eyes as he pressed their foreheads together, apologies falling from his lips like gems and flowers. They tasted like lizards and frogs.

No.

All Roman got was the way the snap of Virgil’s neck had sounded in the sudden silence.

“I killed him,” Roman’s voice sounded like a croak. “I killed him and I couldn’t live with it so I brought him back and isn't it so much better now?!” His head snapped up to glare at Deceit, who watched him with those damnable unreadable eyes. Roman threw his hands out to encompass his house, the silence, the weight, the death and despair that it carried with him.

Home. Alone. Just like he always was.

“So much better now that Virgil hates me! Better now that Patton never visits, probably blames me too. The way Thomas works even harder now, the way that Logan struggles for control even more!” Roman wanted to shatter, to fly apart into the million pieces that his heart already sat in. “The way that Virgil never stays, he can’t stand to look at me for too long.”

Roman faltered, collapsing in on himself. He didn’t fight against the arms that wrapped around him as he blinked rapidly. He cried, reaching out to claw at Deceit’s back.

“Every year, every year he leaves and I’m alone and I can’t stop thinking about it.” Roman sobbed into Deceit’s chest. “It hurts, and I hate it. I hate that he leaves and I hate that I hate it and-”

Deceit shushed him, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Roman dug his nails into Deceit’s back even more as Deceit rocked him back and forth. They stood like that Roman sobbing and Deceit trying to comfort him and time seemed to stretch like taffy. Roman didn’t know how long it took before he stepped back out of Deceit’s arms to swipe at the tears in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Deceit shook his head, and reached out to grip his hand. He ran his thumb over the back of Roman’s hand, and Roman wondered what he was thinking. Probably trying to reconcile Roman with someone who could commit murder. Roman’s lips twisted up bitterly.

“So-” Deceit cleared his throat. “So the day you summoned me was-”

“The anniversary of Virgil’s death.” Roman’s confirmation fell like a hammer. It shattered through the glass of Deceit’s thought, Roman could see the way that his face shuddered and put together the new information. Deceit’s grip on his hand tightened and his comforting circles stopped.

“So- so your deal-”

“Oh, that,” Roman tried to laugh but it came out wrong. Stilted. “I don’t remember what deal we made, considering I was more than flat out drunk that night. Maybe black out drunk? I was a sky without stars and considering that no one’s behavior changed I figured I asked for something stupid and you were just waiting to claim my soul.”

Deceit’s head rose so he could meet Roman’s eyes. The stone in Roman’s stomach doubled in size as Deceit searched his eyes for something. He pulled his hand from Deceit’s grip, missing the cool touch. Tension ran along his shoulders and he searched Deceit’s eyes for answers of his own.

“Deceit. What did I ask for?”

Deceit’s eyes slipped shut.

“Don’t ask that of me. Please.”

Roman clenched his jaw. He stood at the edge of a cliff, he always stood at the edge of a cliff. He could never stop himself from jumping off, even with the jagged rocks at the bottom. Eternal wisdom never beat eternal recklessness.

“Deceit,” Roman said, drawing his magic up around himself. “What did I ask for?”

Deceit breathed in. His eyes opened and he stared at a point just beyond Roman’s face. He twitched and then slumped just slightly. Roman didn’t think he would have noticed the difference a few weeks ago.

“Someone to love,” Deceit whispered, finally meeting his eyes. Roman felt the floor give out beneath his feet. He wanted to know how he could stand without anything under him. “You asked for someone you could love, but-”

“No,” Roman said, the word strangled by heartbreak and realization. The flirting, the smiles, the words, the actions, everything.

A lie.

What demon wouldn’t want the soul of a unicorn?

Deceit took a step forward, hand reaching out, and face pleading.

“Roman please-”

“No,” Roman shook his head, feeling the tears start to fall. He took a step back. Then another. “I can’t- you-” He couldn’t breath. He wanted to scrub the sound of Deceit’s laughter from his head. He wanted to forget the nights curled up together, the way he had bared his soul to Deceit because he had trusted him.

“Just listen to me-”

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Roman tripped over his feet as he whirled towards the door. He barely caught himself and fled before Deceit could say any more. If Deceit spoke, Roman would listen and he’d lose all over again. Love beat against betrayal in his heart and Roman wasn’t ready to make bets on that fight yet.

He slammed into the wall as he turned the corner. He didn’t let that slow him down as he ran blindly through his house. If he hid, Deceit would find him. If Deceit found him, then Roman would fall for him all over again, lie or not. He had to run, run until Deceit couldn’t follow him anymore.

“Roma-?”

Roman ran through Virgil and threw open the door. The chill air of outside hit him in the face but he didn’t stop.

“Roman!” Virgil’s voice tugged at his panic, but not enough. He had failed Virgil. He was failing Thomas right now. “Roman, stop!”

His feet fell away from him. His body tingled, stretching and growing. The world blurred around him as his hooves clattered against concrete. Something in him shouted at being free for the first time in decades, his body picked up speed, falling into a natural rhythm. Falling into his natural form. Someone screamed. Virgil.

Virgil screamed and Roman ran.

Roman slowed as he took in the trees around him. The setting sun dyed the sky the same brilliant orange as the leaves above and below him. He crunched leaves as he moved at a trot, glancing around him. He blinked slowly. He couldn’t remember how far he had run to reach here. He couldn’t remember much of his run at all.

He flicked his tail, slowing down again to a walk. Virgil would find him first most likely, and that was the last thing Roman wanted. Hatred or I-told-you-so’s would grate on him the same way right now. They would be the last thing he needed.

Roman ached for Thomas and kicked at the leaves covering the ground.

He ground his teeth together. Logan’s voice lectured him on staying put when lost, but like hell Roman was going to waste his short time outside. He had already left his house, might as well see some sights before he went back and tried to entertain himself once more.

He didn’t want to think about Deceit being there when he went home.

Roman pranced to throw his thoughts off of himself, shaking his mane. He leapt gracefully over a fallen tree-

A snap and crunch echoed through the forest with his scream.

Roman crashed to the ground, scrambling to balance himself as pain tore through his front right leg. He screamed again. The bear trap he had landed on scraped against the bone of his leg and blood dripped down into the dirt. His hooves scored the ground, kicking up leaves. His eyes rolled back in his head as his other legs finally gave out on him.

He trembled and his chest heaved as he lay on the ground. The bear trap rattled as his legs kicked out and more pain raced up his probably broken leg. Roman wanted to cry. His tail swished against the leaves and ground. Purple stained the leaves around him, and Roman hated it. He hated the color and what it meant and for a moment, wanted to bleed red like the rest of his family.

His family.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. They would come for him. Virgil looked for him already, Roman knew that. It was only a matter of time before they found him. Gods, they were never going to leave him alone after this. He had finally proved them right. He couldn’t take care of himself, had never been able to take care of someone else.

Some unicorn he turned out to be.

A whine built up in his throat. The throbbing of his leg matched the throbbing of his heart. He imagined Thomas running fingers through his mane, and Logan’s lecturing yet conference voice. He wanted Virgil’s dark presence hanging over him and Patton’s laughter. He wanted the adventures they used to have and the adventures they still had only without him-

His feelings spiraled into a blackhole of pain, and Roman lost track of time. Pain blossomed and withered with each rise and fall of his chest. Inhaling dug through the dirt to plant new roots and each exhale pulled everything back out. Winter and summer, planting and uprooting, life and death. A cycle that he could never escape.

A branch snapped in the distance. Roman peeled his eyes open. He could barely make out the sight of a figure moving through the trees, probably Logan or Thomas. He brayed and the figure froze. Roman tried to relax, his eyes slipping shut. He would be safe now; he would get help.

Leaves crunched around him growing in number, and Roman tensed. Too many footsteps. He shuddered and opened his eyes again. He pulled himself into a sitting position. Fire raced through his leg as he adjusted his position, flaring up every time he moved. He watched the strangers approaching him with a wary eye.

“Well, I’ll be,” one of them breathed, “Those old rumors and stories were true. A unicorn.”

Roman snapped his teeth at them, warning them back. Antlers would have been more useful than a horn in keeping them back. Then again. Roman gathered his magic and conjured a flickering shield around himself.

“Got caught in one of the hunter’s traps,” another one murmured. Roman’s head spun. He couldn’t keep track of them all. Seven? No ten. What were they all doing out here?

“Careful,” The first one said, pulling a length of rope from their side. “Even injured like that it can be a slippery bastard. They’re known for their escape tactics for a reason.” Roman felt the wind pick up around him as he tried to hurl some more offensive magic at them. Their hair blew in the breeze but nothing more happened. Weak. Bleeding out and emotional. He hadn’t left his house in decades. Out of shape and out of practice, Roman cursed himself for not having done more to be prepared for a time like this.

“We’ve gotten lucky with this one. Rope ‘em.”

Roman tried to stand up, to get on his feet and fight back. His broken leg gave out underneath him, and he let out a loud bellow as he fell back down. He snarled mentally. Fire sprung up around him, making several of the hunters stumble back. He would not be taken without a fight. He refused.

He refused.

A rope whipped through the air with a crack. It sliced through his barrier and landed on his back. Roman screamed, the sound tearing through his hoarse throat. The rope felt like a knife cutting through his magic and he kicked out on instinct. The bear trap rattled as he reared up, cutting into his leg even more.

Another rope shot out and lassoed his hoof. A sharp tug toppled him over as Roman writhed against the feeling of something suppressing his very nature. Another rope caught around his throat and Roman’s screams fell silent. He kicked feebly as his magic crumbled in his grasp and the hunters swarmed him.

More ropes. Roman’s world went white with pain. Distantly, he registered hands over his body, someone touching his horn, others wrapping more rope around his legs. Someone forced his mouth open and wrapped a muzzled around it. He tried to claw through it all, tried to force himself to move.

He barely twitched.

Dirt and rocks scraped against his muzzle as they dragged him away. He whined in the back of his throat, and irrationally-

He wished for golden eyes and a smooth voice.

Roman stared blankly at the far wall of his cell. The cap they had wrapped around his horn itched, but scraping it against the wall in a futile effort to pry it off only hurt. His broken leg lay in front of him, treated with disinfectant. Enough to keep him alive but nothing to stop the bleeding or pain.

Why would they when they wanted to splash their walls with his blood?

Precise incisions ran along his flank and neck. Everything ached, but not as much as the rope wrapped around his hind legs. Soaked in virgin blood just like the ones they had caught him with, the burn a constant agony added to his orchestra of suffering. He wondered how long it would take before they started to chip away at his horn to see what they could do with that as well.

His head felt light, from blood loss, from pain, from the locks of mane they had shaved off.

He wanted to curl into the corner and never move again. He could do it if he took a human form, but he didn’t dare risk giving that secret up to them. He may have been taken, but he never wanted to be the reason that more unicorns ended up in the hands of people like this.

He leaned over, pressing his flank against the wall in an attempt to ease some of the pain in his leg. It pulled on the cuts along his side, but the low sharp pain felt better than the long deep throb. He slid his eyes shut and wondered how long it would take until this horror show passed. The air in his cell dropped, and he shivered. Cold, but it soothed his inflamed everything.

“Oh my god,” Virgil’s voice whispered. Roman flicked his ear towards the source. Oh. He had gone mad earlier than he had thought he would.

“Roman,” Virgil hissed. Roman hummed. He missed Virgil, and wondered what he’d say to the sight of him now. The short hair felt a little ridiculous, maybe Virgil would comment on that? “Roman! I know you can hear me.”

Roman sighed and turned to glare at nothing. Only-

Only Virgil stared at him with wide eyes, and Roman nickerd in alarm. Virgil’s hands shot up and he waved them through the air. His eyes cut to the door and then back to Roman.

“Shhh, quieter, quieter, they can’t know I’m here.”

Virgil hovered closer to him, hands passing through cuts and the empty space where Roman’s mane had been. Something pained flashed through his eyes and he leaned forward. Roman sighed at the feeling of coolness that pressed against his neck. Virgil couldn’t really lean against him like he had years ago, but they could both pretend.

“You look like shit,” Virgil murmured, and Roman let out a huff. Yeah, and he felt like shit too. Virgil snickered weakly, and cold air passed over Roman’s ears. He watched Virgil carefully, anger twisting the ghosts face as he took in the red welts along Roman’s neck.

“I’m going to kill them.” Virgil spoke calmly, clearly, without the usual anger in his voice. A shiver crawled down Roman’s spine, and he shoved his muzzle at Virgil’s face to make him stop. Virgil rolled his eyes and slid back. His eyes dropped to the ropes around Roman’s legs and looked pained again. His hand brushed through Roman’s nose in apology. “I can’t take them off.”

Roman couldn’t shrug, so he nickered at Virgil instead. Virgil was still young, still coming into his powers and control. Roman didn’t expect that much help from him for another several decades at least, if Virgil stuck around that long.

“I brought help,” Virgil whispered. “I’ll break the wards and bring him here. We’ll get you out. Promise.”

Roman nudged at the space Virgil floated in, feeling cool air slide past his nose. As long as no one got hurt, he wanted to say. He didn’t want anyone else hurt because of him. He’d rather turn in his horn then see more blood spilled in his name. Good or bad.

Virgil brushed against him one last time before disappearing through the door. Roman shifted his weight nervously, tugging on the ropes that held him fast. He kept his eyes glued to the door for Virgil or whatever help he had brought.

Logan would have problems if the wards were made with Roman’s blood. Maybe that was why he had to break them? Or Thomas, Virgil would trust Thomas with this. Patton would be Virgil’s first choice if he was in town. Roman tried to focus on his breathing and not the tension running through his shoulders.

Magic, dark and rotting, rolled over the building like a wave.

Roman felt his heart skip a beat. Roman knew the feel of Logan’s magic; this wasn’t it. Patton and Thomas both leaned towards light. Virgil couldn’t control his powers to this extent. That only left-

The door to his cell imploded, disappearing in a show of crumpled metal. Roman flinched back, hooves skittering on the stone floor. Pain clawed at his injured leg. Deceit rushed into the room, eyes landing solidly on Roman.

Roman felt his breath catch. Deceit looked pale and drawn, his clothes rumbled like he hadn’t changed out of them for days. The few curls of hair that his hat didn’t cover looked greasy and unkempt.

“Roman,” Deceit breathed, taking a step forward.

Roman shrunk back. Deceit’s eyes darkened with a grief that Roman couldn’t name. He held a shaking hand out and took a deep breath.

“I-” Deceit’s voice cracked, and voices echoed down the hall. Shouts that made Roman tremble. Deceit’s jaw clenched but he didn’t move. “I don’t want your soul,” he said quietly. “Maybe at first, but you-” Deceit swallowed. “Please, Roman, all I want is you.” Footsteps, Roman felt his terror grow.

Deceit took another step forward. All Roman had to do was lean forward, and they’d be touching.

“Trust me,” Deceit begged, “Please.”

Roman stared at him, at the demon he had summoned with his own mistakes. He knew his answer already. Deceit’s eyes widened as Roman pressed his soft muzzle against his hand and nuzzled it softly. Tension dropped from Deceit’s shoulders and he shuddered. He leaned forward to press his forehead just under Roman’s horn.

“Thank you,” Deceit swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

Deceit stepped back just as Virgil burst into the room.

“They’re-!”

“I know,” Deceit pressed a kiss to Roman’s forehead, running a hand down Roman’s sore skin gently. His eyes swirled a molten gold, just as hot with anger. Roman whined as he pulled away. “Look away, love,” Deceit’s cape swirled around him as he turned. The air rippled with his magic. “You don’t want to see this.”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. He felt the cool air that meant Virgil had pressed up to his flank. He could almost taste Deceit’s magic.

And then the screaming started.

Awareness came to Roman gradually. The soft whirl of a fan. The smooth silk of the sheets under his body. The creak of the one door he refused to oil just to drive Logan mad. Most of all, Roman leaned into the feeling of someone curled up in his side, and soft fingers running through the remains of his mane.

Roman groaned softly, his eyes fluttering open.

“Hey.” Roman turned his head at the sound of Thomas’ voice, wincing as it pulled on his neck. Thomas pressed a gentle hand to his muzzle, and smiled softly. “I bet you feel like you got hit by a bus.” Roman nuzzled into his hand, and Thomas’ grin grew.

“You passed out before Logan and I showed up, but between all of us we got you home,” Thomas explained quietly, “Virgil insisted we leave you be in case forcefully shifting your forms hurt, and so Logan set up your room to be as comfortable as possible for you like this. Your mattress is uh, in the living room being used by him actually. I’d be prepared to fight him over it.”

Roman knew his cue. He needed to complain about Logan stealing his bed, amuse Thomas with his banter, but a part of him tripped up over the fact that Logan had stayed in his house. That Virgil had insisted on making sure he was safe. He blinked at Thomas, trying to figure out when things had changed.

Thomas’ face crumpled and Roman nudged at him, trying to get his smile back.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered. He played with the tips of Roman’s mane, and his eyes drifted towards the window. “Maybe if I had been around more this wouldn’t have happened. But I-” Thomas swallowed. “You lost Virgil and all I could see was how much it had hurt you, how much you drew in on yourself and I thought you wanted space. I thought- no, I hoped , that if I could find some way to keep you safe that-”

Thomas shook his head. Roman stared at him. The words Thomas said didn’t make sense. Thomas had left , hadn’t wanted to be around him anymore. Thomas ran a hand down his neck, careful of his injuries.

“I think we all thought like that. That you needed space to deal with what had happened. I know that I- I didn’t want to fail you again.” Thomas closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “I wanted to prove to you- no, to myself that I could do something to help you, that I could change the world for you.” He opened his eyes and sent a small bitter smile Roman’s way.

“But all I did was fail you again, didn’t I?” Thomas pressed his forehead against Roman’s neck and Roman leaned against him, feeling the body curled up at his side shift. “I missed the way that you shrunk in on yourself. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wasn’t who you needed. I should have shown you how much you still had rather than-” Thomas’ next breath shuddered in his chest. “Rather than focusing on what we had both lost.”

Thomas stood up and scratched behind Roman’s ears. Roman couldn’t look away from the unbearably fond look in Thomas’ eyes. Thomas’ fingers swept around his horn, down past his eyes and stopped just above his nose. He traced a heart on the velvet skin there, over and over again.

For a moment, he was a young foal again with Thomas crouching down in the snow to see if he was alright. Strong arms lifting him up from where he had fallen and bright laughter spilling out over the clearing as Roman butted his head against Thomas’ chin. For a moment, Roman remembered the words that Thomas said to him then, the same words that repeated to him now.

“We’re not alone,” Thomas whispered. His eyes glittered in the sunlight, and Roman could feel his magic woven through the very bricks of the building he lived in. “We’re all here for each other. I’m here for you. Logan’s here. Virgil’s here, and probably badgering Logan to get some sleep. Patton turned around and started this way as soon as he heard. Expect fussing from him when he shows up.”

“And he-” Thomas nodded to Deceit, to the body curled up at Roman’s side, “-never left.”

Thomas’ hands dropped away and he took a step back. Roman felt his head spin, and Thomas smiled at him.

“It’ll take time, healing the cracks we have but I think we can do it,” Thomas pressed a kiss to his own fingertips and pressed them to Roman’s muzzle. “I’ll go keep watch for Patton so he doesn’t strangle you with hugs as soon as he arrives.” He paused. “I love you Roman, so much, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Roman felt warmth drift down all the way to his hooves as Thomas slipped out the door. He snuggled down into the pile of blankets and turned to lay his head on Deceit’s chest. He counted the in and out of Deceit’s breath, not too surprised when Deceit’s hands rose to pet at his neck.

“You’re beautiful,” Deceit muttered, sleep still thick in his voice. Roman nickered and closed his eyes, tugging on his magic. He could feel Deceit’s breath whoosh out of his chest as Roman landed on it in human form. He winced at the way all of his cuts pulled and shifted at the action.

“They’re totally not going to kill you for that,” Deceit pointed out, even as he gently pulled Roman closer and pressed a kiss to the bright red ringing his neck.

“Wanted to talk to you,” Roman said, wincing again at the rough gravel in his voice. He sounded like he had tried to eat a golem. Not that he would have any personal experience in that, nope, no way.

He wriggled around and wrapped his own arms around Deceit’s waist so he could lay his head on Deceit’s chest again. Deceit’s hands drifted down and slid under his shirt to run over the loose bandages there. Deceit hooked his chin over Roman’s head and hummed softly.

“I followed Virgil when you ran away,” Deceit whispered, barely audible over the whirl of the fan. “I wanted to explain, and I’m not sure I said it right when we reached you.” Deceit’s hand stilled. “You wanted someone to fall in love with. Nothing in the deal said anything about me and how I felt.”

“So-”

“I love you,” Deceit said firmly, “You and your stupid ideas, and that look you get on your face when watching Disney, and the way you dance, and the recklessly open way you live your life. The way that you let a demon into your life and home without second thought. I love you, you absolute moron.”

Roman grinned and twisted around so their noses brushed against each other.

“Consent is sexy, right?” Roman whispered. Deceit’s mouth twitched up into a smile, and for the first time Roman thought he could see a sunrise on his horizon. The gold of Deceit’s eyes and the red of his family’s love.

“Very much so, are you going to kiss me now?” Deceit waggled his eyebrows and Roman laughed.

“I dunno, you’ve done all the work to reach this point so far, wouldn’t it be rude to interrupt that?” Roman teased. The way Deceit huffed sent a thrill up his spine. Deceit’s hands brushed over the cuts along his side, out from under his shirt, across neck, and into the buzz cut Roman would properly mourn later.

“In that case, my prince.” Deceit pulled him down and pressed their lips together, cool and rough pressing against warm and soft. Finally . Deceit kissed the same way he flirted, full of passion and life. Roman wanted to stay like this forever. Deceit’s hands slid from Roman’s hair to his neck, and when they pulled back for air, he chuckled softly.

“What about my soul?” Roman blurted, and Deceit’s chuckles evolved into full blown laughter.

“Yeah, no, that’s still yours,” Deceit pressed their foreheads together. His thumbs rubbed circles into Roman’s skin, and his tone sounded endlessly fond as he spoke.

“You’re such a moron.”

#Sanders sides #Roceit #Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Platonic Prinxiety #Character Thomas #ts deceit #Angst with a happy ending #gun violence #kidnapping #blood #Temp major character death #PTSD #Panic Attacks #Roman angst

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