Who:Richie and Virgil What:Mistletoe awkwardness. When:Christmas time Where:Their place Warnings:Mistletoe things
As relieved as Virgil was that Richie hadn’t suffered a more serious injury, he still couldn’t shake the guilt he felt that Richie had gotten hurt in the first place. It shouldn’t have happened. He should have diffused the situation long before it got to the point of people getting shot.
His family unexpectedly showing up for the holidays helped take some of the sting out of it. His parents had somehow won three tickets to any destination they chose, and they’d decided to come to California to spend Christmas with him and Richie. Sharon had, of course, complained about the snow, but let it slide because he’d missed her. And while his family had decided to pitch for a hotel after seeing just how small Richie and Virgil’s apartment was, they still spent a lot of time there.
He brought a mug of tea that his mother had made to where his best friend was sitting on the couch, and placed it in front of Richie. “Hot tea, just the way Moms makes it,” Virgil said, plonking down on the couch next to Richie.
Richie wasn’t the type who liked complaining, but being shot was the least fun thing he’d ever experienced. It was tiring, and he was trying not to be a pain in the ass for the holidays. Nobody liked a grinch, but he just wasn’t feeling it. Virgil’s family however seemed to brighten his spirits a bit in spite of Sharon’s whining. They’d always treated him like one of their own. It was hard not to feel loved when they were around.
He was basically mobile again, but under doctor's orders not to do any heavy lifting or strenuous activity.-which he avoided for the most part anyway so he was relaxing when Virgil returned with tea. “Thanks man. You didn’t have to get up though.” He didn’t want Virgil feeling like he had to do anything special for his sake, but he wasn’t about to turn it down either. The blond didn’t want to admit it but he was tired, he ached in places he didn’t know could ache that much but the doctor said he was lucky. No vital organs pierced or lasting damage done. He was just getting frustrated with the stitches that had to remain in for a few more days at this point. If that was the least of their worries he supposed he ought to be more grateful. It was just sucky timing. He wanted to be as active as he could be with the others, but instead he ended up sitting around mostly. He reached for the tea, letting it warm his hands. “I thought we left the snow back in Detroit, I think you should blame Sharon for that.” She’d love it, Richie grinned a little.
“It was nothing,” Virgil said. Richie would never tell Virgil that it was his fault, which meant that Virgil did have to go out of his way to make things easier for Richie. And maybe bringing a cup of tea that his mother had made wasn’t exactly going out of his way, but it helped ease his conscience a little bit.
“It’s totally Sharon’s fault,” Virgil agreed. Nevermind the fact that it had started snowing weeks before Sharon and the rest of his family had decided to come. Virgil was all about laying the blame at Sharon’s feet, whether she deserved it or not. “But this snow is whack. I was looking forward to having a green Christmas.”
Richie gave his friend a side glance. He could tell what he was doing, neither one of them were very good at lying-but to be honest he didn’t mind a little attention every now and then from his bestie. There were worse things in life. He just hoped Virgil understood he didn’t blame him. He blamed himself and felt pretty stupid really.
“I duno, there’s something kind of magical about it being white.” He mused as he looked out the window and wrapped cold hands around the warm mug of tea. “Might be kind of odd if it was hot at Christmas time. I saw some guy surfing in San Diego for Christmas in a Santa suit. That doesn’t seem all that festive to me..” He liked traditions, white Christmas would have been one he missed if it hadn’t happened. He propped his feet up on the table and glanced over at his friend again. “..Maybe we shouldn’t tell them about this, you know? “ He motioned to the spot where they both knew bandages were, but he didn’t want their whole visit to be about his injury.
“I guess you’re right,” Virgil said. As much as he’d love a green Christmas, something would probably feel like it was missing. Not as much as he would have missed having his family here, if they hadn’t somehow won a contest for three to California for the holidays.
He frowned a little. “Are you sure?” he asked his best friend. “I’m sure they could help you with whatever you need if they knew.” It seemed wrong to keep something like that from his folks, but then, he was keeping the whole Static thing from them in both of his lives. And, thinking about it, there was no way the news wouldn’t get back to Richie’s own parents if Virgil’s found out.
“They tried to sell me a surfboard for Christmas at one shop already. Do I really look like a guy who knows how to surf?” He made emphasis on his pale skin that could practically glow in the dark.
“If they figure it out I’ll tell them, I just..I don’t want their entire vacation to be busy worrying.” He waved it off and put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder warmly before letting it slide down to the tea cup again, trying it gingerly. He was always pretty bad at drinking tea, it just seemed to like to burn him. “Besides man, I’m fine. Really.” Okay so there was the whole needing to heal thing, but eventually he probably would. Richie just tried not to think about it for the most part.
The tea though was nice. He spaced out for a moment watching the steam rise from the mug. Just being there with Virgil with the sound of familiar voices from the small kitchen was comforting. However that sense of calm was shattered when Sharon announced a few last shopping trips needed to be made and the door slammed behind her. Richie dropped the tea cup and grimaced as hot water attacked his clothes. The door slam had startled him, reminded him all too much of the sound of the gun.
“Shit, sorry. I..” He he reached down to pick up the mug that broke by his feet with a slightly shaky hand.
Virgil stared in surprise for a second when Richie jumped, and then he mentally cursed Sharon for leaving so loudly. It was stupid, since she hadn’t actually done anything wrong, and it wasn’t like she knew that Richie was going to be jumpy, but for now it seemed easier to blame her for slamming the door than himself for failing to protect Richie in the first place.
“It’s okay, bro,” Virgil said, reaching down to grab Richie’s hand from picking up the shards of shattered porcelain. The last thing Richie needed was to cut his hand. As his fingers closed around Richie’s hand, he caught sight of something moving above them, and looked up for a second to see something that looked suspiciously like a mistletoe above them, before he was compelled to lean forward and kiss Richie.
He hadn’t meant to do it, but once his mouth was on Richie’s mouth, his free hand was reaching up to rest on the back of Richie’s neck.
Richie had been attempting to blow it all off like everything was fine, but obviously in that moment he knew it wasn’t. Normal people didn’t flinch when doors shut, or when loud near sisters were loud and they knew that their motto wasn’t exactly ‘walk softly’. The blond felt his hands got cold to the touch and he tried to focus on anything else but it wasn’t working.
At least not until Virgil was holding his hand like that, it seemed to quiet some of the noise in his head. He probably should have resisted more when Virgil moved in, but it honestly wasn’t the first time he’d thought of this playing out. He barely noticed the mistletoe out of the corner of his eye when Virgil’s chest brushed against his own. The world around him was suddenly silent again, his own hand found its way to Virgil’s waist where it fell to rest gently. It was the first time he actually felt relaxed since the shooting. Kissing Virgil felt eerily right, and he didn’t want the moment to end.
This should have been weird. Virgil had always known that he’d been interested in girls; he’d dated Daisy for a couple of years until she went to MIT for University, and he definitely hadn’t been faking his feelings for her then. Besides, even if he was interested in men, he couldn’t have had feelings for Richie. Richie was his best friend, his brother. Definitely not someone Virgil should be kissing on their couch.
And yet, even when the weird compulsion ended, Virgil didn’t pull away. It should have been weird, but it wasn’t. Not even a little bit.
“Are you okay in here?” His moms asked. “I thought I heard something br - oh, sorry.” At least, it hadn’t been weird. Virgil broke away from Richie quickly, just in time to see Moms exiting the room. Virgil could feel the heat rising to his cheeks already, both at what Richie might have thought about Virgil kissing him out of the blue and the fact that of course that was when his mom would walk into the room. He stood up, and using his static cling, he quickly gathered the shards of glass from Richie’s tea and floated them into the garbage can. “I uh… I’ll explain things to her,” Virgil said quickly, and stood there a little awkwardly to see how Richie would react to everything.
And there it was, the thing that shattered the peace between them for that single moment.Virgil’s mom. Because of course. Why wouldn’t it be? Richie rubbed his neck awkwardly as Virgil pulled away. “....Yeah.” Was the only real intelligent word he could come up with, a whirlwind of emotion and he didn’t trust his voice to come up with anything better. This might have been the part where he ought to have excused himself and left, but it was his apartment too. There wasn’t any place to go. A red hue touched his pale cheeks as Virgil watched him and then left to try to explain what neither of them actually understood to someone who understood it even less. He watched Virgil clean up the broken mug with a faint strained smile and nodded.
Richie was the opposite of his friend in the girl department. He hadn’t shown a single interest in anyone beyond friends that he’d made with people like Daisy who were around Virgil. His world seemed to revolve around him and now he had no idea what to think about it anymore. He sat on the couch and removed his glasses as though maybe it had just been a strange illusion, but the muscle memory was still there. He touched his neck again where Virgil’s hand had been moments ago unintentionally. God his mom must think he was disgusting. Or sick maybe. Who knew, all Richie knew was he had no idea how to react so his body seemed to respond in time and he just sat there awkwardly.
‘Yeah’ wasn’t a whole lot to go on, and Virgil stood watching Richie for just a moment longer before he turned to leave the room. Richie had obviously been weirded out by the whole thing. Maybe he hadn’t felt what Virgil had felt - hell, Virgil didn’t know what Virgil had felt. But at least Virgil knew that his mom would be okay with it. Maybe a little confused about the whole thing, but she’d be understanding no matter what Virgil told her. He wasn’t too concerned if she told his pops, but he needed to make sure that she didn’t tell Richie’s, and he should probably explain to her that there really wasn’t anything going on between the two of them.
Trying to clear his head with a shake, he left the room, and the door closed behind him.