Trade Mistakes - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter XXV

Roman awoke the next morning the the sound of the bus, as usual. He was always the first one awake, because he was a relatively light sleeper, so whenever the bus made a particularly loud noise or went over a jostling speed bump, he'd jerk awake. This was the reason behind his troubled sleeping pattern on tour so far, but it had fortunately not been a problem the previous night.

He'd been so exhausted from all the chaos from tour, Leeds, and then the party that he'd sleep straight through the night with no interruptions. The only problem was the fact that his dreams had been ridiculed by a certain makeup-wearing singer that had kissed him at the party.

The princely man blinked slowly as his eyes focused on the roof of his bunk. A sigh escaped his lips as he recalled the brief feeling of having Virgil's against them; it had been only for a few seconds, but it was enough for all the memories of late night make out sessions and lazy kisses on the couch to come flooding back into his mind. He didn't want to think about them, knowing it would do neither of them any good to fall back into old habits.

Shaking his head, Roman forced himself to climb out of his bunk. It would do him no good to just lay there and contemplate his and the alternative rockstar's past. He made his way quietly into the bus lounge, freezing in his tracks to see him asleep on the couch where he'd left him.

He'd been expecting Virgil to wake up later in the night and retire to his bunk, but it seemed he hadn't woken up at all. He was sound asleep on his side, his hand hanging off the couch and just barely grazing the carpet of the bus floor. To the princely man's surprise, his sleep was seemingly troubled. His face was contorted with some sort of dismay or despair, and he kept shifting quickly. Something unpleasant must be happening in whatever dream he was having.

Letting out a sigh, he started making tea with the multipurpose coffee machine they had insisted be included with the tour bus and sat down in the chair across from the darkly dressed man. The coffee machine made its faint humming and beeping noises in the background as he studied Virgil.

In another life, he could cross the bus lounge, sink to his knees, and kiss his eyelids gently and then peck his lips as he mumbled protest to waking up. In another life, he'd be lying next to him already, having spent the night with his arms curled around his waist and the other man's head resting against his chest. In another life, the brief kiss they'd shared at the party wouldn't have been an intoxicated one, but rather a loving and tender one.

Roman sighed at the thoughts, eyes traveling over the slumbering singer's face. He noted how much more beautiful he was then when they were kids in high school. He noted that not much had changed about him, but his jawline was a little stronger and his features were a little more defined. Nonetheless, he still made his heart flutter.

The coffee machine let out a loud beep as it finished working its magic. The noise made Virgil stir into consciousness, eyes fluttering open as he groaned in what seemed to be pain. "Morning sleeping beauty," the guitarist greeted, offering a convincing fake smile.

"What time is it?" Virgil mumbled, rubbing his head as he laid back down.

The princely man poured the drink into two mugs and carried one over to the singer. "It's early, 7:20," he answered. "The others are all still asleep from the party last night, it lasted quite a while."

"Oh the party," the singer said mostly to himself with a wince. "That must be why my head is killing me..."

He nodded in agreement, offering the beverage. "You had way too much to drink last night dude, and the hangover cannot be helping with the whole 'being hit in the head with a soda bottle' thing," he said, trying to joke it off.

"Hey, at least now I have something in common with Brendon Urie," Virgil said with a forced laugh. "Maybe we can bond over it and become friends, that would be dope."

"Sure, but uh... how much of last night do you remember, Virge?" Roman asked, taking a sip of his tea as he eyed the singer. He gave him a questioning look, leading to hastily explain why he was asking. "Well, it's just, you had a lot to drink, and I was worried you might've had some memory loss or something, you know how it is."

The darkly dressed man nodded, drinking his tea and looking thoughtful. "I honestly don't remember much after the fourth shot," he said, shaking his head and then immediately wincing in pain. "I think I made out with some hot guy though..."

Roman felt a stab of pain in his heart and his gut dropped. He didn't remember all the painful things he'd said. He didn't remember that they'd kissed. He didn't remember any of it. The guitarist wanted to cry, but he had to play it off, forcing out a rather convincing laugh in his opinion. "Oh yeah, you were totally going for it with this blond guy," he lied, feeling his chest constricting with each word. "It's a good thing you'll never see him again, cause he's gotta want to hook up after that."

At this, the singer looked confused, but didn't say anything. He swallowed, hoping his performance had been convincing enough and that he hadn't picked up on the pain in his laugh.

"Well, you should probably get some more rest," he said, backing toward the bunks. "You did get back late last night, and you probably got press or something later, so yeah, you should get some more sleep."

Virgil looked up with wide eyes but nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said softly. "My head is still killing me so..."

There was an awkward silence between them before the princely man slipped back into the bunks area with his tea and let out a heavy sigh. Pretending to be comfortable around Virgil was going to be a lot harder now.