So, my first Virichie on here. Well, on anywhere I suppose. Though I doubt many will read this since SS is so old (and yet, still so appealing, sighs), I hope that those who do read it, enjoy themselves.


The moon was bright that night. Full and radiant, a halo hung around it, and the light given off lit up everything. It travelled through space, reached a world, a country, a city, a little girl with a telescope, a house, a room... It flitted through a window, shining into said-room and giving it a dim glow. It reached a bed in the corner of the room and it shone in just the right angle to hit the eyelids of a person on the bed.

The person stirred, a light sleeper, and gave a small moan. His head was fuzzy, the world was still rather spinny, and he vowed to himself that alcohol, under any circumstances was just.not.worth.it. No matter how much his best friend had prodded him, no matter how much fun he was having before he finally gave up and had that first drink. And then another, and another, until eventually… Well, he wound up here. God only knew how, but he wished he could figure it out, because then he also may be able to figure out why he was so sore.

Then he tried to move, and something beside him shifted, and he felt two arms that were apparently lax earlier, tighten their grip around him. He looked, focusing his still-hazy sight, though that might have also been his lack of glasses, and saw his best friend.

Not good.

Not good that he was with his best friend who had gotten, not quite as much as him but still very, drunk, not good that they were in bed together, not good that they had no clothes, not good that they had slept together, in more than one way, not good that he knew now why he was sore and images from last night were flickering through his head, not good that was his best freaking friend, and oh man, definitely not good that said-best friend just wouldn't let go.

Then again, he supposed it could have been worse. I mean, it was equally as good as bad that it was his best friend. Bad that they had slept together, and he really hadn't needed that added to the fact that he already was crushing on him and his dreams didn't need any help thank you very much. But good in the fact that they were best friends, and that he knew that while it would be awkward… Very awkward. They would still be able to brush it off, laugh it away, joke about it later.

It just may take a little more effort on his part to make it believable. Though he would likely find it hilarious, he himself would probably be dying a little inside. Then again, it wouldn't be the first time. He had dealt with talks about crushes (and wow did that ever take evading), talks about sex (with girls, yet again, more evading), and this wouldn't be much different, because they were best friends. The best of friends. Ever. So he really had nothing to worry about. Well, except for a bit of heartbreak, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

The grip around him had loosened again, but he didn't pull away. He might as well enjoy this, he was already pretty screwed, and the next morning would still be embarrassing no matter what he did. So, he just settled back down on the bed, and wrapped his own arms around his partner, sighing.

A small shift of movement and a murmured "Rich?" and he froze…

Well, shit. He already knew he was awake, so there went that option.

"Yeah V?" He whispered, but he just got a small shake of a dreadlocked head, before the arms around his waist tightened their hold yet again, and a head rested on top of his.

"V?" He wondered if he sounded as confused as he felt because he wasn't sure, but he was sure he just felt a kiss dropped on the top of his head.

"G'night Rich." His partner said, and held him close.

After a few minutes of shock, where he knew he must look completely gob smacked, he shook his head minutely, gave a small almost disbelieving smile, and moved as close as he could to the other man. Whether still drunk, or just tired and delusional or not, he wasn't giving up this chance.

Then again, Virgil had always held his alcohol better than him, so he figured he had a pretty good chance of a happy morning tomorrow, or today, or whatever.

He grinned against a dark brown chest. "G'night Virg."

It didn't take him too long to fall asleep.

And it wasn't until he woke up the next morning, still in his friend's arms, and having the life kissed out of him (not that he was complaining), that he realized how very very lucky they had been that there hadn't been any calls last night. Though if he were to be honest, even if there were, they probably would have been ignored.

Hey, even superheroes needed a break. And he had a feeling that the two were going to be using those breaks quite productively.