It had been a little while since Roman had seen Logan. Or really, any of his friends. Logan had been away in Europe for a history trip, and Roman had been off on a national representative choir tour all holidays. He was slumped in an armchair at Patton’s place, fending off waves of fatigue as his friends had the first catch up in the three weeks that had been assigned as a break from school. He always joked that there were no such things as holidays. He never felt it more strongly than now.
Patton had laid the coffee table with snacks galore as Virgil plugged in some music in the background. Roman tried not to nod off. Logan came and sat down on the end of the couch closest to Roman, also yawning. “Had good holidays?” asked Roman.
Logan snorted. “What holidays?” he retorted.
Roman laughed. “That is a big mood,” he agreed, slumping even further into his seat. He ignored the roughness in his voice, but saw Logan wince.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Roman waved it off. “My voice is just coming back.”
“You lost your voice on a choir trip?” Virgil overheard, concern colouring his tone. “What do you even do?”
Roman laughed. “I held out til the last day, and we’d done all the concerts by then. I just had to croak for a few days. Nothing unmanageable!”
Logan frowned. “It doesn’t say much for your singing technique,” he stated.
Roman frowned back. “My technique is one of the better ones there,” he replied. “I mean, at least I have breath control,” he snarked under his breath to himself. “But it’s pure overuse. It happens.”
Logan looked him in the eye with a calculating look, before shrugging and turning back to his phone. Roman shrugged right back, letting his head fall into the cushioned back of the seat. Patton held up a cookie. “You want one?”
Roman nodded. However, he didn’t anticipate that Patton would just throw it at him immediately. The biscuit hit him in the face, bouncing off and landing on his chest with a plop. Patton stared, horrified, as Virgil laughed openly. Roman stared down at it, blinking slowly, before picking it up and taking a bite. “Thanks Pat,” he said. “It’s really good.”
Virgil only laughed harder. He heard a snort of amusement from beside him. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched Logan duck his chin to hide the smile that was fighting to show itself on his face.
God, he’d missed this.
Trips were fun and all, but all he really needed was to see his friends.
As the movie they’d put on came to a close, Virgil stretched like a cat as Patton yawned. Roman snapped his head up in an attempt to keep himself from dozing off. Logan had settled back comfortably and looked to be in a similar situation.
“What time is it?” mumbled Patton.
Logan checked his watch. “It’s 12:43… in the morning,” he stated, surprised. “That… where did the time go?”
“At least we aren’t doing anything tomorrow,” Virgil said, laying across Patton’s legs and burying his face in his forearms. Roman smiled, nodding in agreement.
As they all settled comfortably down, Roman found his eyes drifting to Logan. There was something different about him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. It was subtle, whatever it was, but something was not the same as the last time he’d seen the nerd three weeks ago.
His hair was styled the same.
He had the same pyjamas.
He held himself the same.
His speech patterns hadn’t changed.
Roman found himself studying his friend as Logan went on his phone.
Roman’s brow furrowed as he recalled the sketch he’d done of Logan a couple months ago. What was different…?
Logan looked up, obviously aware of Roman’s staring. “Is something wrong?” he asked plainly.
Roman put his chin in his hand and stared back. “I’m just thinking,” he replied. It was definitely something in the face.
His eyebrows were the same shape, his cheekbones as steep as normal. His jaw was still chiselled. The way his cheeks pushed up the thick frames of his glasses when he smiled…
Roman blinked. The glasses. They weren’t the thick pair of Austin-Powers-eske glasses that Logan had been wearing for years. They were sleeker, rimless on the bottoms, not as tall in the lens.
Logan read the realisation on Roman’s face, and a flash of worry was in his eyes. “What-”
“You got new glasses,” Roman stated, restudying Logan’s face to back up his claim.
Logan blinked, before smiling.
“W-why, yes I did. I got them at the start of the holidays,” he fumbled, a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks.
“They look good,” Roman added, flashing a smile back in reassurance. “I was just trying to place what was different.”
Patton and Virgil turned to look as well. “I knew something was off, but I couldn’t place it,” Virgil said, nodding in agreement with Roman.
“They suit you so well!” Patton seconded.
Logan smiled, cheeks flushing.
“That’s very kind of you,” he mumbled, looking down at his lap, still smiling ever so slightly. “You’re the first people to take note of the change.”
The others blinked at each other. No one else had noticed? Well, new glasses were a subtle change, but surely everyone wasn’t that unobservant. Virgil and Patton decided not to acknowledge the fact that if Roman hadn’t pointed it out they probably wouldn’t been able to place it.
“Well,” Roman said gently, patting Logan’s shoulder. “I noticed.”
“…My thanks,” Logan replied, equally as soft.
The atmosphere was quiet and calm, a natural lull in the conversation filled the air with companionable silence.
Patton yawned. He then blushed and laughed it off, apologising profusely. Logan waved off the unneeded apologies flippantly. “Your body clock is perfectly correct,” Logan stated. “It’s late, and we should sleep. Everyone, go get ready for bed.”
Virgil and Patton picked themselves up off the floor, scrambling for their pyjamas in a fight to be the first to the bathroom to change. Roman let them go, the quiet nearly lulling him to sleep as he was.
“Roman,” Logan intervened softly, shaking his shoulder. “You’ll be too uncomfortable to sleep like that.”
“Mmmm,” Roman mumbled, rolling onto his side, away from Logan.
“Roman,” Logan reinstated, his tone losing the softness to be replaced by that familiar edge of irritation that he knew so well.
Roman ignored him, pretending to snuggle into the fabric of the armchair and get ready to sleep.
Roman shrieked, leaping from the chair and falling to the floor involuntarily as Logan poked him firmly in the ribs. He clapped his hands over his mouth, winded from the landing and embarrassed by the fall. “Logan!” he snapped with no real fire in his voice. “You know I hate it when you do that!”
“Then get up and get changed!” Logan ordered, standing over the self-proclaimed prince of the stage with his hands on his hips. Something in his eyes softened. “Then you can sleep, okay?”
Roman stared up at him, captured in the moment. Logan extended a hand.
Roman took it slowly, and let Logan help him to his feet.
“Okay,” he said.
“You can use my room to change,” Logan directed, guiding Roman out the door as Roman grabbed his pyjamas from his overnight bag.
“Thanks, Logan,” Roman said, smiling through a yawn that he did his best to stifle.
Logan patted him, somewhat awkwardly but no less lovingly, on the shoulder. A reciprocation of the physical affection Roman showed him just before. “It’s alright,” he replied.
Roman stumbled over his own feet from pure tiredness as he left the room. Logan giggled into his hand as he watched the silly boy leave. He bathed in the warm glow in his chest, before he went about setting up his lounge for sleeping.