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whatwashernameagain · 6 years

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I’m dying to be with you - Chapter 7

Warnings: Hypochondria, insecurity, talk about spiders

Masterpost

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Virgil allowed himself only a moment to contemplate whether it was a good idea to sneak into a patient’s room late at night. He did not want to disturb Patton, but he knew he was often awake at night and appreciated the distractions and he really needed to talk to a friend, he was freaking out here.

Of course, the fact that the object of his anxiety and anticipation was very loudly snoring in the same room was not helpful at all! For such an elegant and handsome man, he sure snored like an old trucker. It soothed Virgil somewhat to see some sides of the man he could be playfully annoyed about instead of becoming more intimidated by him and what he contemplated doing.

Dating.

He contemplated dating the man.

He groaned, pulling at his hair. He did not date, he did not go out with men and made himself vulnerable to them, he had put those rules in place for a good reason! But he could not ignore his attraction, or his affection any longer. He liked Roman. He wanted to spend time with him and argue about his annoying habits and banter and discuss the books they both enjoyed and he wanted him to kiss his knuckles and smile at him in the morning and he wanted to soothe that fear that always left the writer a nervous, irritating mess. He finally wanted to be there for him. And he could not do that from the other side of a door. Steeling himself, he quietly knocked and eased the door open.

Patton stilled his quiet pacing and frowned at the door. Had doctor Sanders come back? He had hoped he was feeling better. His heart skipped a beat as his kiddo peeked into the room. Just the person he had wanted to see! He really wanted to talk to someone who knew the gentle doctor, and Roman unfortunately did not count in this case. The poor thing really needed the rest after his exciting day. But why was Virgil here, his shift was long over!

“Um, hey Pat, can I talk to you?” He mumbled, nervously glancing at the bed Roman had just rolled over in with a grunt.

“Of course!” Patton squealed, sliding over on socked feet to hug his distressed kiddo. Had his squeal not woken Roman, his misjudgment of the speed and distance that made him crash into Virgil’s arms with an ‘oof’ would have certainly done the trick.

The author shot upright with an almost indistinguishable “Whassit?!”, pillow creases marking one cheek and usually luxurious locks standing up on one side. He blinked at them owlishly. “Aryuhurt?” He mumbled, concern seeping into his slurred speech as he rubbed his eyes.

Virgil melted a little. Patton a lot.

“Awwww it’s all good, Princey, we were just having a chat! Sorry to wake you.” He cooed lovingly.

“Oh. About what? Do you need me to-”

“NO!” Virgil interrupted vehemently. Anxiety flooded his nerves. He felt too shaken by the recent realization to have Roman here and be disheveled and caring. He needed to go!

“You need to leave! L- Sanders is in the mess at the corner booth, go! Sit with him!” He ordered. In his stress, he had almost slipped and called Logan by his first-name. No one did around Patton, since they all knew he harbored the romantic notion that he would wear the man down and get him to tell him himself in a show of trust or something ridiculous like that. It was eerie how Patton had all of them in the palm of his hand. Anyway, Logan was probably there right now. It was where he went to think at night. Had he gone home, his phone would have already gone off with worried messages about how he was not home yet. Such a mom. Clearly, it made perfect sense to make them keep each other company. Roman just did not know that. He looked quite taken aback and a little hurt.

Virgil hated when he looked hurt.

“I – sorry, I don’t mean I don’t want you here – I don’t! But- we need to talk! About – uh-” He broke off abruptly as the caring writer approached him and took a calming hold of his upper arms, only minimally grimacing at the material that had probably been worn by other nurses in the past.

“It’s fine. I’ll leave. But, if there is anything I can do, anything at all, let me know, alright?” He offered gently, his green eyes earnest.

Virgil swallowed hard, a flush climbing to his cheeks that was hopefully hidden by the darkened room. This was why he instantly hissed and growled at the man. If he couldn’t, he became a tongue tied mess. Nervously, he reached up quite automatically and twisted his hair back.

The author’s eyes were drawn to the movement, like they always were, he realized. They were very soft. Only this time, Virgil was very aware of his attention. Awkwardly, he snatched his hand away, twisting it into the fabric of his scrubs.

Oh no.

Roman had noticed.

His eyes widened as he put two and two together. Virgil had figured it out! He released the nurse’s arms, stepping back hastily. Oh god, he would surely kick him where it hurt! How could he have been such an idiot, writing him into his book in such an obvious way instead of owning up to his feelings, and with such a plump metaphor too! Portraying him as a trans-girl? How could he have chosen such a blunt picture for the subtle nuances he had noticed in his character? The way his eyes softened when he observed a cute, older couple together? The way he had seen him expertly braid the hair of a young girl in his care until she felt pretty and was distracted from her troubles? The way he admiringly brushed his nimble fingers over the soft fabrics Patton wore so well or how he curled into his arms, needing to be held. Those things did not make him any less of a man, he had not wanted to give that impression! Just like a male body and the need to uphold a tough, fearless exterior had not made his fictional character any less of a girl. Still, men did not like being compared to women as a compliment, even to a strong one, stupid!

He lowered his head, cheeks burning and ready to accept Virgil’s well known rants, as the young man hesitantly stepped closer.

“Hey, it’s okay! I just – I need to talk to Patton, okay? Please?” He asked softly, pleading with him to respect the boundaries he was setting. Roman nodded.

This was better than what he could have hoped for. They would probably discuss how to let him down gently while they banished him into the filthy cafeteria where all the patients had touched everything with unwashed hands, rude! But Virgil’s friend would be there, and Roman would use that. Virgil’s uncharacteristic gentleness gave him a flicker of hope, a flame of determination. Before he could turn him down, Roman would give this relationship one last try. He would be brave and honest and open this time instead of hiding behind his illness and annoying the lovely nurse, like the knight he wished he could be. Deep down, he knew he was more mouse than man, he could not even delude himself enough to make his literary alter-ego the hero. That was Virgil’s role. Yet this time, he would be brave enough to make himself vulnerable and give them one last try.

Fueled by the courage his mission gave him, he grabbed shoes, jacket, phone, face-mask, rubber gloves and disinfecting spray (the barest minimum required for a trip outside) and valiantly ventured into the hospital.

“He sure is dramatic.” Virgil mumbled as Roman strutted out of the room like a peacock on a mission.

***

Roman shifted his grip on the paper wrapped stems once again. They were sweaty. He should have kept his gloves on, this was gross! But who wanted to accept flowers from a man essentially dressed for a surgery?! He really was doing his best, but his resources were sadly limited! He glared at the unrepentant doctor to make sure he was reminded of the fact that his misery was entirely his fault! SO uncooperative, what sort of villain stood in the way of true love?!

Admittedly, he had been rather attentive and willing to listen – after he had established that he had only the best interest of the temperamental nurse on mind! Jeez, who knew they lived together and the stiff doctor could become so protective? Secretly, he was glad to hear the young man had managed to let someone in though. Logan really was a sweet man when you looked past all the regrettable stiffness and the overall lack of charisma. He had no idea what Patton saw in him – aside from the tall, handsome built, the elegant hands, the general competence, the free and easily available healthcare and the adorable attentiveness and badly hidden urge to take care of people. The man probably adopted filthy strays from the streets when no one was looking. Ew! Yet, he supposed he could live with allowing Logan into his life. And no, he had no qualms about pestering him for his first-name and using it continuously despite the resigned glare. He wouldn’t tell Patton of course, that little angel was scary when he did not get what he wanted.

The doctor had declined accompanying him upstairs, looking so flustered that Roman had almost thrown caution in the wind and hugged the cardiologist. Almost. He was not suicidal, the man could have been elbows-deep in somebody’s torso a while ago. He did wonder what had happened though and vowed to find out from Patton – the flirty little minx was sure to know, and help as much as he could.

Now, however, he had to survive the greatest challenge of his young life – asking Virgil on a data without directing his attention away from his earnest affection with his complaints or starting to bicker with this beautiful, exasperating creature. Those tactics to protect himself had no place in this scenario. Steeling himself, he knocked.

Patton opened the door and beamed as he saw him, bless his sweet soul. “It’s for you!” He chirped over his shoulder, before he stood on his little tiptoes and kissed Roman’s cheek. Then he was gone, skipping down the corridor and cheerfully greeting nurse Tabia who had just arrived for the day shift. Had they really talked for such a long time?

He was pulled from his thoughts quite abruptly by the sight he had been hoping for. It made dread and warmth uncurl in his chest with equal fervor, making him dizzy. Virgil looked at him with wide eyes, taking in the effort he had made with his hair, the nice clothes he had fished from the hospital’s laundry service – thankfully he always kept a few sets here, and the flowers he was clutching in shaking hands. They felt woefully inadequate.

Virgil’s heart lurched at the sight of the writer standing in the doorway. Despite his clear nervousness, he looked ready to conquer the world. His shoulders were squared, his eyes determined – it was a good look on him. His obvious handsomeness make the nurse even more nervous, especially as his gaze landed on the large bouquet clutched in front of the man like a shield. How had he missed it? Oh right – Roman’s general attractiveness that habitually made his brain short-circuit.

Wait, did that mean what he thought it did?! Had Patton and he really spent all night making plans for each other, just for Roman to beat him to the punch? So all of their hard work and Patton’s attempts to talk some courage into Virgil were for naught! He was so fucking relieved. Asking someone out for the first time was an experience he had not been looking forward to at all! Also, he had secretly been dreaming about Roman doing it.

Getting up, he slowly dared to cross the room on shaking legs, trying to shallow his doubts. Patton had assured him that the book, the looks, the attention, the flirting and annoying that had been consistently going on for all the years they had been coming here, all of those were not part of an elaborate practical joke, Roman would not laugh at him. But the insecurity was hard to shake. He did not understand what the man saw in him. Where had he found the inspiration to depict him as a determined protector in his writing? He did not feel like a hero at all. Surprisingly though, the flowers helped. No one had ever given him something so beautiful in his entire life. His heart fluttered with awe.

The bouquet in his hands was created from a collection of purple, sweet smelling lilac, delicate petals of pale lavender sweet-pea blossoms, softly curved, opening buds of freesias and delicately curled pale violet roses. Virgil had to swallow around a lump in his throat. Nobody gave men like him something so – so utterly pure and gorgeous. It just did not happen in his world!

After a few, speechless moments, Virgil noticed a few loose leaves fluttering to the ground. Though beautifully put together and an absolute pleasure to admire, the flowers looked a little worse for wear. It felt fitting, considering the man who was holding them, and the fact that they were now even more interesting to the curious nurse.

“What happened to those?” he asked softly.

Roman’s tan skin flushed crimson. “Um, in my defense, it is very hard to find flowers people refrained from ruthlessly poisoning with pesticides and artificial fertilizer at this time of night. Additionally, I really wanted to make sure my first present to you would not end with a tragic accident that might hurt you.” He elaborated, looking shy.

Virgil snorted. Amused affection lightened his nerves. He felt so close to this strange man suddenly.

“How could your flowers hurt me?” He asked, his smile growing helplessly. Roman spluttered.

“Of course the flowers would not harm you, I would never choose plants that could hurt your fair skin! However, bouquets have been known to harbor terrible, well camouflaged hunters ready to bite any unsuspecting victim! Goldenrod spiders hunting on flowers and being overlooked by careless florists are a constant threat!”

Even while he was delivering his passionate speech, he realized that he had taken things too far again in his worry. Normal people did not worry about spiders in the flowers they gifted loved ones with. He had only honestly meant to protect him though. He knew his constant worry was a nuisance, but he could not help himself. His mind had gone into overdrive as he had considered all the possible risk to his lovely nurse.

Virgil did not laugh at him though, or snarl at him like he usually did. The smile lighting up his face was soft. Tentatively, he reached out for them. Barely believing his luck, Roman handed them over.

“So what did you do to them to clear them for me?” He asked as his slender fingers brushed over the petals reverently. They complimented his fair skin and purple locks perfectly. Roman required a moment to gather his scattered whits.

“Um – actually I had planned to have them put through an MRI scanner, but Logan, a.k.a. doctor donnish would not let me!” He wailed, once again enraged by the lack of effort the man invested in the care of their precious nurse.

Virgil howled with laughter, imagining the look on Logan’s face as he had been forced to argue that no – flowers did not qualify for medical imaging procedures. The petals were butter-soft under his fingertips and filled the room with an irresistible sweetness. It seemed to fill his head, make him feel luxuriously warm and sensual and desirable. It was not a feeling he was used to, despite his numerous sexual encounters.

“How’d you do it then?” He asked, casually stepping closer to the taller man. His breath hitched, making Virgil feel wanted. He liked the feeling.

“I – that is – we disassembled to bouquet and – and used properly sterilized operating equipment to – to check any possible hiding place. Which is why some of the petals might have come a tiny bit … loose.” He finished lamely, lamenting the fragility of flowers when poked with metal tweezers.

Unable to escape the hilarity of the image of a sour-faced Logan operating on some expensive weeds in the middle of the night, Virgil hid his face in the flowers and giggled. Tears were streaming down his pretty face. He felt like he could fly. Confidence like he had never felt before flooded his body. For the first time, there was no hesitation as he looked up at the gorgeous mess before him.

“Yes.” He uttered softly.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Yes – as in – yes, you will go out with me, let me court you and spend the rest of your life in my arms?” He rambled hopefully, his filter shot to hell.

Virgil snorted, his chest swelling with emotion and relief. “Let’s start with a date, okay?”

His smile felt too bright for his face, felt as bright as the perfect one Roman almost blinded him with. He wondered if this perfection could last, if they would not be bickering before their date had come to an end. He didn’t care, looked forward to it in fact. He was so close to the other man, he could see the possibility in his eyes. His dream of holding someone’s hand, of a man playing with his fingers and kissing them without making crude remarks or demanding to touch. Having tender fingers run through his hair and play with the strands, making him shiver with innocent pleasure. Having his cheeks cupped in larger hands before he was kissed like he was worth something. He wanted all of it. The shy looks, the dates, the little things he had never experienced. And eventually he wanted to climb this gorgeous man like a tree and enjoy those broad shoulders and strong arms. But there was time. For now, even if he was not innocent himself, his dreams were, and Roman looked so willing to indulge him.

A fierce protectiveness rose in the young nurse. He grabbed his hand, firm and safe. He would look after this idiot.

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#Logicality #Prinxiety #Virgil just wants to be loved #Roman is an adorable idiot #He tries so hard

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