Work Text:
"I don't want to love you."
"But you do."
"I don't know if I do."
Late nights were always a mistake. Every minute that ticked on marked yet another racing thought, another stuttering heartbeat, another word left unsaid. Support is important, Virgil knew that, but isolation felt more comforting in moments like this. Isolation meant avoiding social missteps, the most terrifying thing of all.
Silence resounded through the house and crept into every crack of his mind. The overwhelming rush of emotions was enough to render Virgil frozen, unable to think clearly about anything, especially him — the man seated in the other room. It wasn’t an argument, yet the subtle changes in Janus’ behavior felt like a declaration of hatred that left Virgil feeling as if he’d just caught fire.
The guilt was more overbearing than anything else. Janus’ sympathy was gifted to Virgil time and time again.
“It’s okay if you need to go. I’ll wait for you.”
He was always left waiting.
And Virgil was always leaving.
Sitting alone in his bedroom, Virgil gathered his thoughts. The idea of a relationship was scarier than the typical anxieties that took over his life; being faced with the possibility of hurting the one person you hold closer than anybody else was enough to make his stomach do flips. There’s no doubt that he held love for Janus, the kind that makes your chest feel as though it may burst. It was overwhelming in a new way — a positive way.
Of course, emotions alone couldn’t make a relationship work. All the love in the world can’t mend what feels fundamentally broken. Janus knew this, but vowed he would try. He would try.
Enough time passed that Virgil felt confident enough to face Janus, though his feelings were another thing to conquer. Despite the countless thoughts and phrases bouncing against the sides of his skull, he could only muster one phrase, one he immediately regretted.
“I don’t want to love you.”
“But you do,” Janus carefully responded.
“I don’t know if I do.”
“We’ll figure it out together; I wait for you.”
If he could cry in the moment, tears would’ve coated Virgil’s face. His anxieties remained, yet so did Janus’ reassurance. He stood there unsure of what to do with himself, every bone suddenly weighing him down. Every ache of weariness took over, and it was clear to see.
"Do you want to go to sleep? We can always talk about this later."
Virgil nodded in response, and Janus followed to his room.
As always, the two woke up entangled, yet acted like it was normal. They both knew better.