Another day off seemed like overkill. So what if his feet weren't fully healed? He had a pass for gym. He only had to be on his feet for 8 or so minutes an hour other than to and from school. Roman was getting sick of being home doing absolutely nothing. He should be doing chores or homework or something. He was going to be so freaking behind next Monday it would hurt. Roman shifted nervously on the couch in Thomas's office and put down his book. He'd just been staring at the page for the last minute or two, anyway. Sometimes his thoughts ran away while he was reading and there was no point in fighting it.
"You need something, Roman?" Thomas asked, not looking away from typing. Roman just grunted in response. He already knew how Thomas felt about this. There was no point in bringing it up again. They argued about it last night and this morning, too. He didn't need anymore recovery time. "Talk to me," Thomas looked pointedly to Roman.
"How about laundry, can I do my laundry? I'm basically out of clothes," Roman asked, leaning back and looking at the ceiling with a huff. Thomas had to know he didn't like being stuck in here.
"I noticed. Not that the hot pink isn't fetching, but I'm pretty certain if it were any shorter it'd be a crop top," Thomas said a little sourly. Roman flushed and adjusted his jacket tighter over his torso in embarrassment, still minding his bruise. Admittedly, this shirt was pretty old. He usually only wore it under his black hoodie before he grew out of it. It only cost him $2 on clearance, so maybe he should just let this one go. Roman stared at the floor for a moment, considering it. He was wearing it now, so maybe it was still good as a back up shirt. "How about a compromise?" Thomas offered. Roman looked up in confusion to see Thomas raising his eyebrow.
"What's that?" Roman asked suspiciously.
"I'll let you do your laundry if you let me take transport the clothes themselves and you only handle the washing parts," Roman groaned in annoyance, but Thomas didn't stop. "And you tell me your clothes sizes and what you like to wear so we can order you some new clothes online," Roman groaned louder and carefully crossed his arms. His ribs still hurt like the dickens. "It's a great compromise," Thomas said with a small smile, and Roman huffed dramatically.
"It's the worst compromise ever, that's not balanced," Roman rolled his eyes and flipped his hand dismissively.
"What's unbalanced about it?" Thomas asked curiously, tapping the desk.
"I don't-" Shit. Roman flushed harder and dropped his head. Another thing he and Thomas argued about. Roman thought Virgil was obstinate, but that was nothing compared to what he'd been putting Thomas and Patton through. Thomas stopped typing and raised an eyebrow again. Virgil was a walk in the park compared to Roman, and Virgil had real problems.
"You don't what?" Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't think it's fair," Roman said, dodging what he really felt with something that sounded nicer.
"I don't see anything unfair about it. In fact, I can do your laundry myself and I wouldn't find it unfair. In my opinion you shouldn't do chores when you're sick or recovering," Thomas said plainly, but Roman didn't miss that swift, meaningful look. God damnit. He was superb at this. Maybe that's what was unfair. Roman didn't have a response, so he just looked away. "Both parties make compromises, Roman. You have to tell me what you object to so we can negotiate a better agreement," Thomas added after the lengthy pause.
"I'm okay with you taking the laundry basket up and down the stairs," Roman muttered, conceding a point to Thomas. He didn't want the basket to bump his rib on the stairs, and he could live with that.
"That's good to hear. So you don't want to tell me what kind of clothes you want?" Thomas asked. Roman didn't reply or look Thomas in the eye. "You'd rather shop in store? I'm sorry, you've got to keep off your feet a little longer. They were bleeding again last night," Roman motioned down at his feet.
"I know," Roman mumbled.
"So, what's wrong with shopping online? If we order a size up from the stuff you're currently wearing we should be okay, and we can return everything that doesn't fit," Thomas said. Roman turned his head away. He hated not answering as much as he hated feeling like this. "It's the money again, isn't it?" Thomas asked after a moment, realizing the problem after a moment of deliberation.
"Clothes are just so expensive," Roman grumbled, looking down to the floor.
"How about you pick out some things you like from photos, and I'll order something like it? You'll never have to see the price," Thomas offered.
"There's still money being spent," Roman sighed, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.
"You will rip out of that t-shirt if you stretch, Roman. You clearly need new clothes," Thomas motioned to Roman's shirt.
"That would be kind of cool if I could. I'm not nearly strong enough," Roman poked his bicep absentmindedly. He never really managed a lot of muscle mass as much as he'd like to be stronger. When he was a kid, he and Remus must have been strong since they were wrestling and throwing each other at their bed or the couch almost every day. They were the same size and could both lift the other pretty easily back in the day. They threw each other around for fun all the time. But they ate really well as kids, so that possibly helped. He still had fond memories of throwing a Remus who was screeching like a drake and bouncing off a couch cushion and cackling after landing on the floor.
"So?" Thomas urged him, not letting Roman distract himself from the subject. Roman sighed and sat up straighter. He was happy to get sucked into a nice memory for once. He probably needed clothes.
"Yeah, okay. Can you just… not order too much?" Roman pleaded, looking to Thomas nervously.
"How much is too much?" Thomas asked, leaning back and watching Roman keenly.
"Fifty bucks?" Roman offered meekly.
"I'd have to find a serious clearance if that's the case. I can try, but it's not that realistic," Thomas frowned and shook his head.
"… Around sixty bucks?" Roman tried again.
"We're not accepting your allowance for clothes, just so I'm clear," Thomas said, looking a little intense. Fuck. Okay. Roman scratched his head roughly with both hands in stress. "Hey, stop!" Thomas said loudly and Roman froze with his eyes wide. "Take a deep breath for me," Roman slowly lowered his arms and complied.
"Sorry," Roman muttered. He didn't realize what he was doing until Thomas stopped him.
"It's okay, it's not your fault. Are you okay with under 70 dollars of clothes? Do you think you could keep it together if I stick to that amount?" Thomas asked gently, not sounding pleased.
"Yeah, probably," Roman said and sighed, looking straight ahead into the living room despondently.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do. Can you e-mail me a Pinterest board or something with styles you like?" Thomas requested and turned to his computer for a moment.
"I've never really looked before," Roman said uncertainly. He always just bought off the clearance rack or took whatever his foster parents chose for him.
"How about you just tell me things you like in clothes and then I can help you narrow it down?" Thomas asked, motioning the concept with his hands.
"I've distracted you enough from work as it is," Roman objected, leaning back again.
"I'm taking a break, like healthy people should do periodically through the day," Thomas said. Roman wasn't sure, but he may have gotten roasted? The audacity. It was ridiculous to him that he was taking all this time off when he was the one who fucked up.
"Okay. Um. Soft material. Not too tight. Stuff that breathes. No shorts," Roman suggested, listing off things he preferred.
"Like athletic wear?" Thomas tried to clarify.
"Sure, as long as it's not too loose or scratchy. I like room to move in things but I don't like lots of extra material," Roman explained, and it felt like he was explaining it poorly. Thomas nodded, though.
"I think just buying clothes that actually fit will solve that problem. Do you have a shirt cut you like?" Thomas continued questioning.
"V-neck or low. Not crew, please, I don't like things touching my neck. Um, fitted, I guess. I like wearing jackets since they keep the school so cold," Roman said nervously. He didn't like admitting he had such an easy to take advantage of weakness, but he hoped Thomas wouldn't utilize it or spread it. If Thomas wasted money on clothes Roman couldn't stomach putting on he'd feel much worse than he already did.
"That explains why some of your shirt collars are stretched out," Thomas muttered under his breath. "What about colors?" Thomas asked, sounding much more interested.
"Oh, um… Red's my favourite color, but I'm not particularly against any color that isn't like puke brown. I like bright tops and dark bottoms, if I had to be specific. Easier to clean," Roman said.
"Do you like any clothing styles? Like Virgil enjoys more emo styles and Patton likes to dress preppier?"
"I've never worn anything but generic stuff. But I like something that looks put-together. Not like suit-and-tie fancy, but maybe… I don't know how to explain it…" Roman trailed off. "Cool, but not in your face about it?"
"Like you're maybe a YA protagonist?" Thomas suggested with a small grin.
"Yeah!" Roman said excitedly. "Like I'm going to save the world or something," Roman smiled lightly and his brain wandered off for a moment with ideas.
"Sure, I can work with that. Probably nothing too flashy, right?" Thomas asked, yanking him back to reality quickly. Thomas looked pretty pleased for some reason.
"No, I don't need more reasons to be bullied," Roman said dourly.
"Noted," Thomas said warily. "Do you think you could give me a little more leeway on the money? So I can get you a jacket that maybe implies you're leading a rebellion?" Thomas asked carefully, but the way he described the potential jacket was very tempting.
"That would be-" Roman started automatically replying with excitement and cut himself off. Wait, shit, money, fuck, no-
"Drop your hands, Roman," Thomas said firmly. Roman looked to them, not realizing he'd raised them again, and dropped them to grip the couch, feeling embarrassed.
"I promise I'll keep it a reasonable amount, just a little extra money to buy another jacket," Thomas offered. "If you say no, I won't buy anything else other than the essentials," Thomas added, sounding very considerate. Roman swallowed. It would make Thomas happy, right? Roman has been doing nothing but pissing him off for days. Roman doesn't deserve any of this, but Thomas doesn't deserve to be pissed off more, either. This trashfire of a situation was conflicting.
"If… yeah, okay. Another jacket is okay," Roman conceded quietly, still holding the couch cushions tightly.
"Hold on a sec, keep gripping those cushions," Thomas said, getting up from his desk, looking like an idea struck him. Roman looked at him in confusion, and Thomas left the room. He came back a minute later with a pair of thin leather gloves and tossed them at Roman. "If you put those on, I'll let you play games on the TV," Thomas said, sounding proud of himself.
"You're kidding," Roman mumbled, picking up the gloves slowly.
"I'll feel better," Thomas said, almost airily. Roman slid them on. "If I had to guess you're too distracted to read, but that game you were playing the other day is good at keeping your attention. And I don't want you to accidentally see me shopping and get concerned. We'll deal with making sure you're okay when it gets here. I don't want you obsessing over it," Thomas said. "I'll keep an eye on the clock for you, so you can just focus on playing the game," That would be cool. He still felt like shit about taking all this time off and then Thomas buying him more stuff. But Thomas was right that he didn't think he could manage to read anymore, and maybe he'd freak out if just watched TV.
"Can we do that compromise thing? Y'know, again?" Roman asked wearily.
"What do you propose?" Thomas leaned back in his desk chair.
"You let me do some homework later, so I can feel better about playing video games when I have so much to do?" Roman requested nervously.
"Would you be willing to accept help with it? I've seen all the chewed up pencils in your room," Thomas suggested, looking interested in the opportunity.
"I guess?" Roman agreed, a little confused. Roman was just dumb and nervous. A little help probably wouldn't change much. They'd probably get sick of trying quickly, like most others. But as long as they didn't rub in how bad at homework he was, Roman didn't mind.
"All right, I'm okay with that," Thomas held out his arm and helped Roman up off the couch. He didn't like being babied like this, but his feet hurt. The gash on his right foot didn't like to stay closed if Roman wasn't super careful. He must have stepped on a broken beer bottle or something. Thomas helped Roman to the living room and sat down on the couch, letting Roman finish setting things up and sit down on his own. Thomas chucked the afghan at him as the game was loading up, and Roman wrapped it around his shoulders.
Roman wasn't sure for how long Thomas watched him, but he did eventually leave back to work in his office with the door open after a trip upstairs for something. Roman appreciated being given the space. He hadn't gotten much since Wednesday. It was basically just at bed time he was left alone. And he sometimes spiraled at bedtime and probably wouldn't mind someone there telling him it'd be fine and he didn't need to run into the night. Not that Roman believed people when they said that, or anything, but he wouldn't mind it. But being alone was better than Thomas sitting there watching while he waited for Roman to fall asleep or something. And if Roman hurt himself again, Thomas might. He was very on-edge about it. Which Roman couldn't decide if that was kind of nice of him or annoying? He had been leaning towards annoying, but with the living room to himself and a sword in hand he was much less dissatisfied. He happily quested on in the game and got sucked up into it.
"Roman?" Thomas tried to get his attention, but Roman was busy fighting off a demon bear and didn't look.
"Hm?" Roman made a noise of acknowledgment but barely noticed Thomas's presence.
"Roman. I need you to pause it," Thomas said firmly. Roman huffed and got one more hit in before pausing the game.
"Yeah?" Roman looked to Thomas, leaning back towards feeling like this was annoying. "I haven't taken the gloves off or my hands off the controller, I swear," Roman said, showing Thomas his still glove-clad hands.
"No, this isn't about that. Though, that's comforting to hear. That was the doctor's office calling. They got back to me with your results. You do have a fracture on your ribs," Thomas said, sounding a little unsettled. Roman didn't remember hearing the phone ring, but he wasn't surprised at the news. The pain was pretty familiar at this point.
"Oh. Um, what does that mean?" Roman asked nervously.
"Well, we'll need to make a few lifestyle changes. Start taking vitamins with breakfast, sleeping on your back and not your side, and there's a 6-week checkup. There's also some exercises you'll have to do after it's less painful," Thomas listed off the things.
"Um, all right," Roman swallowed nervously. He rolled a lot in his sleep. He was very aware of this fact because it hurt like a bitch and kept waking him up, lately. The other stuff didn't sound so bad, but he was scared of fucking up that in particular. He had no qualms with vitamins or exercises, and if Thomas stayed with him at the doctor's again he could put up with it.
"I asked, and you can't run, so you'll have to hold off on joining that club until you're cleared for strenuous exercise again. If you want to walk Lita after your feet heal, you'll also have to actually walk," Thomas finished. He wasn't going to join that club anyway, so it wasn't really a major loss. Causing them even more trouble after the giant mess he made was not happening if Roman could possibly stop it.
"Oh, well, that's a bummer. I kinda like going for a run with her," Roman said, feeling disappointed. He enjoyed sprinting with that little speed demon and watching her little tongue bob while she attempted the break the sound barrier.
"With some effort, it won't be that long until you can again. I'll try to pick up the slack and get faster so she doesn't get mad," Thomas chuckled slightly. "The muffins I made earlier are now a safe temperature to eat," He added offhandedly.
"You made muffins?" Roman asked curiously. Thomas paused for a moment, considering Roman.
"I made them while you're playing. They're chocolate chip if you want one," Thomas said offered, looking bemused.
"I, uh, now that I smell them, they smell amazing," Roman said kind of sheepishly. The game must have sucked him in hardcore to not smell the chocolate and cinnamon in the air until now.
"I'll get you one with some milk," Thomas said, heading into the kitchen. Thomas came back with the muffin on a little plate and a small glass of milk. Roman looked nervously at Thomas while he took the plate. He had done nothing all day. He didn't earn anything, especially not treats. But it smelled good, and Thomas watched him expectantly. He didn't want to push it again. Roman took a bite of the muffin. It was still warm, so the chocolate was melty and wonderful. Roman ate it probably a little too fast and downed his milk.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Thomas chuckled and took Roman's dishes. "You can go back to playing now. Thanks for taking the news in stride," Thomas beamed proudly. "Try not to slouch," Thomas said cheerily and waved as he retreated to the kitchen. Roman took as deep a breath as he could manage without hurting himself, straightened his back, and unpaused the game. He was having trouble focusing on it, though, as hard as he tried.
It was a great muffin. He did nothing to get such a great muffin. Maybe he could do something later to make himself feel better? Roman leaned back slightly. Thomas waved at him with a small smile as he sat back at his desk. Thomas was definitely, absolutely watching. Thomas was clear he didn't want Roman to do anything. But that just didn't sit right with Roman.
The muffin sat on his stomach oddly, and he felt sick. Roman knew it wasn't really the muffin, and it frustrated him that he couldn't even manage to do something like eating without fucking it up. Roman sighed and paused the game again, setting the controller down. He slowly moved to get up. Thomas hopped up and was at his side in a second, and Roman begrudgingly took the help.
"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. Roman closed his eyes and breathed.
"Yeah," Roman said softly. "Bathroom," Thomas helped Roman over to the downstairs restroom, and he walked in and shut the door behind him. Roman turned on the water and just watched it run for a moment before splashing water on his face. He shut the water off and gripped the countertop, watching water from his face drip into the drain. He suddenly felt exhausted. And standing on his feet hurt. Roman pat his face dry and came back out of the bathroom. Thomas walked back over to him and helped him over to the game controller again.
"Are you sure you're okay? You're looking kind of pale," Thomas said, looking at Roman with concern.
"Yeah," Roman muttered.
"Yeah, you agree you're looking pale? Let me help you lie down on the couch instead," Thomas offered and pivoted.
"Okay," Roman whispered. Thomas helped him over to the couch and Roman laid down with no argument. Thomas draped the afghan over him from the floor.
"I'll save and quit this for you," Thomas said and picked up the controller off the floor. "Do you want to watch something? Virgil will be home soon, maybe there's something you can watch together," Thomas suggested gently.
"You don't have to bother him. I'll keep the gloves on and stuff," Roman said quietly. Thomas finished and put the controller up and came over to touch Roman's forehead with the back of his palm.
"You're kind of clammy, Roman," Thomas said. "Let me get you a thicker blanket," Thomas turned around quickly and opened up an ottoman against the wall, and he pulled out a large quilt and layered it over the afghan. Roman grabbed the edge and blinked slowly. Roman was just so sick of himself. Thomas passed Roman the remote, but Roman didn't take it, shaking his head slightly. He just felt so done with everything. His eyes got kind of heavy and Roman exhaled slowly. He didn't realize he was so tired. Tired of his shit? Tired of himself? Or did he just sleep like shit again? He wasn't sure. He just knew he hurt, and closing his eyes sounded nice.