“Stay here tonight.”
Virgil looked up from where he was curled up on Roman’s bed, his eyes cloudy and his brow creased in confusion.
“What if I make you sick?” he sniffled, before grabbing a tissue and loudly blowing his nose.
Roman turned his chair to face him fully, his typical outfit spattered in paint and glitter from an evening of quiet crafting at his desk. He eyed his boyfriend fondly. Virgil had been hit with an awful cold, and had been sniffling and sneezing all day. At first he’d been reluctant to leave his room, sadly accustomed to weathering any illness alone and secluded, but Roman had insisted that he needed company, to keep his spirits up, and if Virgil wouldn’t let him stay in the darker Side’s room, then Virgil was just going to have to curl up in his.
Virgil had fought him at first, insisting that he was fine, he didn’t need coddling, but then Roman had pouted, and pulled out those eyes, wide and glimmering with love and concern, and though their relationship was still new, and sometimes so confusing (because why did Roman pick him, of all people?), he really couldn’t say no to those eyes.
And so he’d followed Roman’s lead and shuffled off to the creative side’s bedroom, building a nest of blankets in the corner of his bed, occasionally dozing off and making quiet conversation, but mostly watching Roman paint at his desk in silence. It was nice, even if he was slowly accumulating a mountain of tissues.
Though Roman hated the thought of his love feeling sick, it couldn’t be denied that he looked adorable, curled up in his comforter, his cheeks flushed red and his hair a bird’s nest of purple.
“Never fear, you’ve been sat with me all day and I have felt barely a tickle in the throat.”
He stood and walked forward, unable to resist running his hands through that wild hair. He didn’t even care that it was sweaty, and kind of gross, because Virgil was looking up at him with those lovely eyes, his lip between his teeth in hesitation.
“Are you sure?”
“…I’ll stay,” Virgil capitulated, rolling his eyes fondly at the wide beaming smile Roman gave him in return.
“Perfect! It’s rather late, shall we get ready for bed my dear?”
Virgil blushed at the endearment and looked away, hoping Roman blamed his glowing cheeks on his illness. Roman smiled, and pretended not to notice – his boyfriend was still easily embarrassed by affection, and Roman didn’t want to fluster him (even though it was adorable).
“Okay, Princey. I’ll just get my things.”
“No need! I shall fetch them for you, my dark prince!”
Roman hurried out of his room, leaving Virgil to clean up the pile of tissues, and quickly returned carrying Virgil’s PJs and his Nightmare Before Christmas toothbrush. The two fell into a quiet rhythm, at ease in each other’s presence, despite the fact it was the first time they’d be sharing a bed; their shoulders bumping together at the bathroom sink, hands brushing as they both pulled down the comforter and climbed into Roman’s four-poster bed.
“Lamp on, or off?” Roman asked, glancing at his boyfriend.
“Could we leave it on, please?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Of course,” Roman reassured him, his heart melting. He nestled further into his pillows and yawned, before reaching out his arm to curl around the other.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Virgil mumbled nervously, startled at the sudden contact.
“You’re sick,” Roman explained and pulled him closer, “I’ll keep you warm.”
Virgil was stiff in his arms, a hand clenched tight in Roman’s sleepshirt, and for a moment Roman wondered if he’d gone too far – and then he felt Virgil take a deep breath, before shuffling ever so slightly closer and tucking his head under Roman’s chin.
Roman’s heart soared, and he leaned forward to press the tiniest of kisses to Virgil’s forehead.
“I love you.”
There was a moment of silence, and then a quiet response murmured against his collarbone, Virgil’s voice thick with sleep, “I love you too.”