Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the franchise. These characters belong to DC and are from the show Static Shock & Batman comics. I write fan fiction for fun and to practice my writing skills. Please enjoy my silly stories.
"Please turn your books to page 357 and we will begin with our lecture…" The teacher's voice trailed off as he released a quiet sigh, his gaze drifting away from the chalkboard. Richie's left leg bounced rhythmically, a habit that might have convinced his classmates he was engrossed in the lecture. In reality, his mind was far from the classroom, entangled in the conversation he'd had with Daisy just hours earlier. The blonde boy fiddled with his right earring, his thoughts replaying the exchange.
'I like that you two can flirt with each other and it's nothing serious. Not many guys are comfortable in their sexuality like that,' the dark hair girl giggled as she took a bite from her cafe sandwich. Richie paused mid-bite not completely sure that he had heard her correctly. Silence stretched between the two teens as he attempted to process the comment. Daisy's smirk brought a small heat to his cheeks as he realized that he was being teased.
'Virgil and I don't flirt,' he corrected her and attempted to cover up the push back with a nervous laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair trying to distract himself from the constricting feeling that developed in his chest before going back to eating his grilled chicken. She rolled her eyes at the feasible defense. Richie eyes darted around the seating area the two occupied to ensure there were no ease-droppers around.
'I'm serious Daisy. Don't say stuff like that,' he huffed gripping his fork a bit tighter, 'People can get the wrong idea.' Richie chewed extra slow to work out the bits of frustration he held from this conversation. The last thing any bullies needed was more ammunition to make high school harder.
'Richie,' she sighed her patience wearing thin. She allowed his name to hang in the air for a few moments until he looked at her once again signaling to go on.
'Yes he is. Guys flirt by touching. Everyone knows that!'
The sharp ringing of the bell pulled Richie from his flashback and into the bustle of the next class period. His body operated on autopilot as a sea of teenagers surged through the halls, heading toward their respective classrooms. The noise of chattering voices and shuffling feet became a distant hum as Richie aimlessly drifted with the flow. A distant voice drowned out into the background as the blonde continued to drift through the motion of the crowd. Richie yelped as a strong hand grasped the back of his hoodie and yanking him to a halt. An arm wrapped around his shoulder and guided him out of the stream of people against the wall of cool, steel lockers to rest. The abrupt interruption left him disoriented but the person that had collected him assisted with regaining his balance.
"Hey I called your name," the voice laced with concerned belonged to Richie's previous subject of conversation, Virgil Hawkins. The blonde slowly blinked at the sudden crash back to reality. Richie absentmindedly smoothed his sweatshirt crinkles trying to wipe the sweat from his own palm. The closeness of his crush—his best friend—reminded Richie of how difficult it was to breath. Taking a moment, Richie convinced his lungs to cooperate and took notice of something odd. Virgil's arm still remained wrapped around him in a protective manner. The cologne and warmth radiating from his best friend coaxed the blonde to relax and lean into the embrace.
"I-uh," Richie started a bit dumbfounded before closing his mouth once again observing the body language he had once ignored. Virgil raised an eyebrow and squeezed Richie's shoulder as a way to ground him.
"You ok?" his voice lowered and his gaze softened into something a bit unfamiliar. For a fleeting moment, Richie wished he could interpret it as affection, but his rational mind quickly reminded him that there was no real evidence to support such a hope. Heat surged back to Richie's cheeks, and he instinctively turned away, avoiding Virgil's intense gaze.
"Yeah," he squeaked faking a search through a locker that did not belong to him. Vigil crossed his arms and chuckled at Richie's antics patiently waiting to see what the blonde was looking for. Richie's fingers brushed the back of his neck, his embarrassment palpable as he heard Virgil's low hum of amusement.
"Did you forget where you locker is Rich?" Virgil teased in a sing-song voice, stepping closer behind him. Richie kept his back turned, his shoulders tense, in a desperate attempt to shield his widening eyes and quickening heart rate.
"I NEED," Richie's voice shot up in pitch, a frantic edge to his tone, "I-I need to go to class!" He quickly sidestepped, his pace quickening as he fled. Virgil followed, laughing softly and calling out a half-hearted apology, still amused by Richie's panicked retreat.
At first Richie wanted to believe that Daisy had convinced him to overthink things. His best friend's playful teasing at school had thrown him off only because she put ideas in his head. That's it. Thinking about a future that could never be was nothing new. It was far preferable to the idea of jeopardizing a perfectly good friendship with the one person who seemed to accept him as he was, without expecting him to change. Richie had a best friendship to maintain not to mention the importance of Static and Gear getting along during working hours. Having a romantic relationship was just too risky. Yet, despite his rationalizations, Richie found himself obsessively analyzing every nuance of Virgil's behavior. For someone with a mind that thrived on data and certainty, the unknown was a torment. Perhaps this relentless quest for answers was where everything began to unravel.
Over the next few weeks, he began to notice the firm yet gentle hands that pressed against the small of his back, guiding him out of the way with an almost protective instinct; the palm firm in its directive. There were moments when Virgil would lean in close, his fingers brushing ever so lightly through Richie's hair, tucking stray strands behind his ear while they discussed gadgets late into the night. Virgil's brown eyes were always searching for something but the blonde had yet to figure out what he was looking for. Richie felt the reassuring pressure of Virgil's hands as they lightly squeezed his shoulders, a gesture that seemed to ground him whenever anxiety threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't ignore the tender touches on his forearm that followed his jokes, the way Virgil's fingers would linger for just a second longer, as if savoring the connection. Each time Virgil roared with laughter at Richie's humor, the warmth of his touch felt both comforting and electrifying, making Richie acutely aware of the growing conflict. As the blonde gathered more evidence, the less he began to understand. Richie attempted to compare Virgil's behaviors to his elder sister's, Sharon. She was also affectionate in her own way, despite often seeming exasperated by his presence. She wiped away dirt shove him out of the way if Richie managed to get under her feet. Sharon's rag-dolling of Richie seemed to make more sense than his best friend's tenderness. But they were best friends. Best friends are different from siblings. Best friends transcend the usual friend routines.
"Virgil and I have connection that runs so much deeper than any relationship," Richie had explained to Daisy and Freida when they asked about their famous co-dependency. Looking back, maybe Richie can understand how his choice of words could have led them into jumping to conclusions.
Virgil's recent gestures felt different—more intimate, more charged with an undercurrent of something Richie couldn't quite name. All he did know was that his stomach fluttered, palms sweated, and a fog always seemed to set into his mind. How much of this effect from Richie's own school crush? It's difficult to tell where the affliction starts and ends. The constant analysis and overthinking left him feeling more uncertain than ever, trapped in a whirlwind of emotions he struggled to decipher.
The sky painted in orange, purple, and yellow became to cool as the evening moved into still darkness. The Hawkins' home was empty for the night as the two boys settled in to watch an R-rated scary movie in the spacious living-room. When Virgil had brought up the activity, Richie remembers slowly blinking, then scoffing before asking Virgil what he really wanted to watch. When his best friend insisted with his usual stubbornness, Richie assumed that the movie would be quietly replaced with an action comedy later that night. Needless to say, he was a bit surprised that Virgil kept his word and wondered if this had anything to do with Richie mentioning his interest in the film earlier that week. As flattered as he wanted to be, Richie knew Virgil was a wild card, always keeping him guessing. He chalked it up to Virgil's likely undiagnosed ADHD.
Richie dropped his duffle bag next to the couch with a loud thud before dramatically collapsing into the soft, fabric-wrapped cushions. His brain scolded him for being lazy nagging him to drag his weekend supplies to the shared bedroom upstairs but his achey knees and back disagreed. Long periods of stagnant sitting didn't do his body any favors but Richie wasn't ready to admit especially not to Virgil. The teenage blonde sat on the end of the couch leaning back into the cushions exhaling trying to relax his tensed shoulders. He closed his eyes, listening to Virgil rummaging through the kitchen, preparing snacks for the night.
Richie's mind wandered as he waited, thinking about the movie they were about to watch. A few years ago, he wouldn't have been the type to enjoy horror movies. For most of his life, Richie had stuck to action, adventure, comedy, and—though he kept this a secret—romantic comedies. These genres provided an escape, a way to unwind and lose himself in worlds far removed from the harsh reality strained relationships, parental disappointment, & personal shortcomings. After developing a career as a crime fighter, his brain began to explore more unsavory aspects life & death. Horror movies, crime documentaries, and psychological thrillers became less about the scares and more about understanding the complexities of the human mind. He found himself fascinated by the motivations behind sinister actions, the psychological underpinnings of fear and madness, and the way these stories mirrored the real-life battles he faced. These villains in the stories no longer seemed as far-fetched to Richie as they once had—he had come to known plenty of deranged criminals look for the thrill of chaos. To a degree, this shift in his own psyche frightened him. Was this a symptom of growing into his own person hood or was it part of a larger price to pay for having superpowers? His mother had always warned him of the universe's economy; every gain came with an equal or more cost. The line between the growing up & growing out seemed to be one of the same. Another long crash interrupted his deeper contemplation offering Richie an opening to return to reality.
"Hey! Let me help," Richie called out to his best friend as he quickly stood up from his seat. Specks danced across his vision at the sudden shift in blood pressure and Richie's hand steadied his balance by grabbing the couch beside him. He slowly stretched regretting not staying in the soft embrace of the couch. Before he could move away from his seat, Virgil poked his head out of the swinging door with a pout.
"I said I got it!" Virgil's voice was firm as he stared at Richie for a moment, gauging whether his best friend would push back on the matter "Sit down and relax." Virgil disappeared back into the kitchen before Richie could retort a smart remark. More pots and pan banged against one another following loud crashes. The blonde rebelliously remained standing despite Virgil's firm demands. Richie's lips pressed into a thin line as his hands settled onto his hips in a fit of annoyance. His eye twitched as he chewed the inside of his cheek wondering if he would choose an argument before the evening started. He remained standing not wanting to get comfortable again in case there was a possible accident in the kitchen. Richie's right foot anxiously tapped soft rug beneath him in a display of aggravation. His blue eyes darted to the large clock that hung in the nearby dinning room that seemed to loudly tick away his thin patience. With a huff, Richie strode behind the couch and once again advanced towards the swinging kitchen door calling out to his friend.
"Virgil, c'on! You've been in there all afternoon—" the swinging door interrupted Richie's protest before it could really begin. Startled, the blonde stumbled back a few steps, colliding with the couch behind him. Richie fixed his crooked glasses at became misaligned from his startling as he tried to fake a something caught in his throat.
"It's so sweet how much you miss me," Virgil's flashed smug look and winked at Richie as he carried a platter of an assortment of snacks—crispy chips, colorful fruit slices, and an array of finger foods—to the large coffee in front of the screen. Once Virgil was finished setting up the arrangement of food, Richie begrudgingly pushed himself back onto the couch, taking a few short, reluctant steps to find his place again. He puffed out his cheeks in a fake pout sitting on the edge of his seat to observe the prepared feast. As Richie glanced over the different dishes, a lightness overtook his chest.
"You made homemade boneless wings?" Richie's laughter failed to hide his disbelief. Virgil turned his body to face his friend as he poked his chest out and held his head high with a beaming smile. His posture straightened and his shoulder sat back with his typical cocky confidence. Richie did his best not to roll his eyes at the common display of swollen ego.
"Of course I did!" Virgil claimed in a boastful tone, "I'm not Sharon after all so I know how to cook." He pushed the wings forward to Richie as he spoke on the recipes he found online. He admired the breading of the protein as his best friend explained the process of selecting the right seasoning and coating for the chicken, how long the prep time actually took, and what sauces were best for the product. Richie's stomach didn't make it a priority to listen to the cooking lecture. Virgil chuckled softly, observing the way Richie's eyes remained fixated on the platter of wings, his focus unwavering despite his visible hunger. He could clearly see that Richie's adherence to manners was keeping him from grabbing a bite without the host's explicit invitation.
"You should go ahead and start eating. I'll get the movie started," Virgil gently grabbed Richie's hand to guide him towards the plate of his favorite food before moving to get up to change the TV settings. Richie's head swirled at the gentle guidance as he turned his body away from plain view to hide his reaction. Richie savored the each bit of the breaded chicken enjoying the juicy nuggets dipped in his favorite ranch sauce.
After setting up the controls, Virgil went around the house to turn off the lights and retrieve some soft blankets & pillows to settle in for the film. Returning to the couch, he offered Richie his share of nesting items and began to munch on the prepared snacks. Forty-five minutes into the movie and Richie takes notes of the uncomfortable fidgeting his best friend begins to display. Wrapped in a cocoon, Virgil seems to be struggling with maintaining eye contact with the screen trying to fake a sense of indifference. Richie thinks about taking the opportunity to tease his friend's sensitive stomach but decides to take the high road instead. Taking the remote in hand, he pauses the movie for a few moments.
"We don't have to finish the movie if you don't want to," Richie softly offers, "I know you aren't a fan of horror." Virgil's eyes widened at the accusation. The young man removed the blanket that wrapped around his hunched posture allowing the fabric to pool around his waist. Virgil turned his upper body to lock eyes with his best friend.
"I want to watch the movie!" his voice cracks during his loud protest signaling his hesitation. Richie rolled his eyes shaking his head. He crossed his arms in defiance.
"Vigil, stop being stubborn. I'm picking another movie we can both enjoy tonight," Richie goes to get up from his seat to pick from the house collection of movies. Before he can rise to his feet, Virgil begins to climb over the couch demanding Richie that he release the remote. His annoying insistence frustrated Richie as he fought to keep the remote away from his immature friend. The two boys' argument quickly turned into a wrestling match on the couch trying to control the remote. Virgil had an advantage of size but Richie was a strategist that understood how to adapt in ever-changing situations. They tangled and twisted on the cushions, each trying to gain control of the remote. Virgil's grunts of frustration and curses punctuated the struggle, while Richie's taunts and playful jabs fueled the chaotic scene. The couch became a battlefield of flailing limbs and muffled laughter, their antics turning the disagreement into a heated showdown. Eventually, battle came to a close when both boys rolled off the furniture hitting the ground with a loud thud. Seizing the moment when Virgil was momentarily stunned, Richie swiftly rolled on top of his best friend, claiming clear dominance over the remote. He raised the remote above his head allowing a giddy laugh to slip from his lips as he bragged about his victory to the loser. His eyes flickered down to check on his friend after basking in the glow of success. Virgil laid on his back in a rare moment of speechlessness. His brown eyes burned through him with a strange intensity searching for something. Richie suddenly felt exposed and hyperaware of his position—his best friend pinned underneath him. He did his best to control the embarrassment creeping up his chest as he tried to process the unintended intimacy of the situation.
"Are you alright? We fell kind of hard," Richie broke the silence attempting to change the subjects in his brain. Virgil continued to drink in the view of him before slowly nodding. Richie's head tilted to the side a bit more concerned now that his friend seems to be quiet.
"Do you feel as stupid as you look right now?" trying to get a rise out of his best friend with verbal jab. The silence stretching between the two boy was almost suffocating as those brown eyes focused in on Richie's lips before flicking back to his blue orbs. The blonde fidgeted with the fabric fold on his sweatshirt trying to ease his awkwardness. Biting his lips, Virgil chuckles.
"I feel like you got ahead of yourself," Virgil said, his voice laced with playful mischief. His hands firmly gripped Richie's waist, causing the blonde to yelp in surprise. The unexpected touch jolted Richie, his quick wit momentarily silenced as he struggled to process the sensation. Noticing Richie's reaction, Virgil flashed a Cheshire cat smile and press his fingers assertively into his best friend's sides. Richie's cheeks burned bright crimson as he squirmed to be released from his best friend's grasp. The hostage protested swatting at the young man laying on the floor calling his all kinds of curse words as the struggle to roll out of the devious trap continued. Virgil, reveling in the playful dominance, held him firmly in place, his gaze fixed on Richie's flustered expression with deep satisfaction.
"God you're so cute," the words fell out of Virgil's mouth without much thought. He laughed as he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment but completely missed Richie freezing up in shock. For the first time in a long time, Virgil's echoing laughter was not matched. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Richie's reaction, while Virgil remained blissfully unaware of the turmoil he had just stirred.
Virgil's casual confession hung heavy in the air as Richie's heart pounded outside of his chest. The room began to spin and his breaths became uneven and shallow. His mind raced, desperately seeking explanations to reassure him that he must have misheard—misread the situation like he always does. Yet, the movie was paused, leaving only the two of them in the quiet room, and Virgil's words reverberated in the stillness. Richie's thoughts churned with disbelief, struggling to convince himself that this was just another fantasy, that what he was hearing couldn't possibly be real. Before Richie think of a decision, his flight instinct overtook him compelling him to flee from this potential conflict—avoid the discomfort to save the relationship.
"I NEED TO WALK MY DOG!" Richie bolted to his feet, leaving Virgil stunned and sprawled on the cold floor. The blonde scrambled to grab his overnight bag, his movements frantic and disorganized. As he hastily shoved his feet into his shoes, he stumbled and nearly tripped, his balance wavering. Virgil, quickly recovering from the shock of being left behind, moved to help Richie, but his attempt to offer assistance was ignored.
"Richie you don't have a dog," Virgil did his best to keep the mood light as he pointed out the obvious lie told. The blonde made no attempts to justify his departure and continued to make his way to the front door. Virgil stood back with his wounded ego trying to think of anything to say, but Richie's feet were far too fast for either of them to keep up. Virgil opened his mouth to apologize but Richie's cracked voice interrupted.
"MY DOG!" were the last words Richie left his best friend to as he quickly slammed the front door. Richie briskly walked down the several blocks to his home where his parents laid fast asleep not expecting him home until that Sunday night.
If anyone asked Richie about his sleep schedule during the weekend, he would say that the bags underneath his eyes were from staying up late to play video games and reading comics. In all reality, the bags underneath his eyes were from the hours spent trying to process Virgil's current shift of behaviors. Richie would never admit to ignoring the text messages and home phone calls from the Hawkins' residence. He definitely didn't start picking up extra hobbies to do outside of school and crime fighting to gain space from his best friend. No, that wasn't it. Richie was just exploring his options and interests—broadening his horizons like everyone has been telling him to do ever since him and Virgil became inseparable. Late night superhero bonding time needed to be cut short so that the super genius could think about their strategy and there were certainly no time for after school study sessions with Gear's responsibilities looming. Superheroes never run away from conflict, but Richie Foley sure as hell does. He told himself that this was him just being practical, managing his time better, focusing on things that truly mattered. This was for the best.
A tennis ball leapt into the air and plummeted back down to the waiting palms below. The dark skinned teen let out an exacerbated sigh as he allowed his upper body to hang lazily off the bedside. The young man raised his left shoulder higher to clench the cellphone to his ear as he hung upside down. The voice on the other end continued to speak on about their day and mutual conversation. Virgil did his best to laugh and remain present in their conversation but his mind was consumed by the growing distance between him and Richie. The unanswered text and phone calls, the dodging of him in the hallways, & short answers given during crime-fighting drilled a deep hole in Virgil's chest. For once, his ego swollen from its bruising not from the boastful confidence. This ache was new to him—unfamiliar and confusing more than the feelings he began to analyze these past few months. Virgil's mind replayed past interactions to find out what cues he missed. Had Richie already rejected before this and he just wasn't paying attention? The teen shook his head. Virgil was sure that he would remember a pain like that.
"You know you could at least pretend to listen about my day," the voice teased, "You were the one who called me!"
"Huh? Oh, sorry Tim," Virgil responded sheepishly, his mind brought back to the present as he sat up to lay back in his own bed. Settling into the pillows, he reached for another item to fidget with to help with his concentration. He selected the sharpened pencil that was long forgotten to be placed in his school bag. Virgil twirled the wooden stick in between his fingers to ground his anxious mind.
Tim Drake, Red Robin—the second youngest of the batfamily, had become close to Virgil after collaborating on a few cases that landed in Dakota City. Their shared experiences in crime-fighting created a bond that survived numerous arguments, bickering, & petty conflicts. The boys had much in common and Static's extroverted personality seemed to mesh will with Red Robin's reserved character. Their mutual love for science and technology only strengthened their friendship. Not long after meeting, the young men exchanged identities and phone numbers to hold weekly calls to discuss their ambitions after high school as well as send each other memes & online humor. Tim's snarky attitude reminded Virgil a lot of Richie and maybe that had more to do with their dynamic than he was willing to admit.
"Well, I guess I can forgive you," Tim pretended to sound miffed, "I was talking about my upcoming robotics competition but I supposed we can change topics for now. Anyways, what was it you called for again?" The young man shifted the conversation back to Virgil's court with a bit of curiosity and concern. Virgil cleared his throat and felt the embarrassment begin to rise in his chest remembering what had happened weeks before. He struggled through his explanation of the situation still trying to process it himself. Tim listened patiently to his friend continued his disjointed venting occasionally humming to remind Virgil that he was still engaged in their conversation. After finishing his recounting, Virgil allowed the silence to envelop their conversation confident in his friend ability to problem solve. However, instead of a straightforward answer, Virgil was meant with uncontrollable laughter from the other side of the line. He gawked at his friend's audacity and sputtered out a frustrated rebuttal but it only caused Tim to laughter harder at his friend's aggravation.
"Dude how did you fumble that date so hard?" Tim cackled as he moved into another room for better privacy, "You had every opportunity to start a conversation and you blew it sooooo hard." Light footsteps echoed indicating that Tim was descending deeper into his workshop to start on his project.
"I got distracted alright," Virgil huffed at the relentless teasing from his friend, "Richie hasn't responded to anything. How was I supposed to know that comment was going to burn everything to the ground?" He rolled around on his bed in a childish nature even though Tim wouldn't be able to see it.
"Come on, Virg. It's not just about the comment," Tim's tone suggested that he was shaking his head, "You're approach was too strong. You made him uncomfortable or at the very least weren't clear." Virgil flinched at the statement and tried to push down the guilt he felt weighing in his stomach. His pride wasn't ready to call it quits so the he pushed back instead.
"Unclear?! I've been flirting with him for months now! The only way I could be any more clear is if I wrote it out on a birthday banner and hung it above the kitchen door!" Virgil scoffed indigently getting up to pace around his room. He ran his fingers through his dreadlocks trying to keep his voice down. Sharon was wondering about the house and the last thing he needed was his nosy sister eavesdropping on his supposed boy troubles.
"Virg," Tim warned him,"You're messing up by thinking Richie would react the same way you would. Richie doesn't pick up hints like you do. Remember that guy at the diner?" Virgil felt a twinge of jealousy at the mentioning of the famous 'Gotham Diner Flirt' that had become a group joke. During their late dinner at Gotham, after assisting the batfamily with a complicated case, Richie spent their time completely missing the romantic advances of a waiter trying his best to obtain the blonde's number. Richie, caught up in trying to follow the conversation, had unwittingly sidestepped every flirtatious remark and pickup line the waiter threw his way. Tim & Virgil sat back snickering at the turn of events and often brought up the incident to tease Richie about his endearing obliviousness to romantic signals.
"I'm not that guy Tim," his voice lowered as the conversation shifted to something more serious, "Richie is my best friend and we have so much history together. He knows everything about me." As Virgil spoke, his attention shifted to comforting himself rather than making a case to argue. Richie had to know him—understand that he would never throw away their friendship for anything.
"Your history is the reason why you have to spell it out for him," Tim advised in a gentle yet firm tone. Virgil walked through his room trying to shake the sting from Tim's suggestion. He began picking up and setting down random objects to keep his body moving and mind focused—comic books, school bag, headphones, dirty laundry—anything to not sit down and have to accept his screw up. He was out of options now and if he continued to sit around and wait for Richie to return to him, it might alter the trajectory of their relationship.
"Somehow I don't think Richie wants to talk about it," Virgil let out a hollow laugh, "If he had it his way, all every conflict we ever have would just disappear overnight without any need for discussion." The laugh was more about the release of his frustrations and anxiety than relishing in the humorous mess he had managed make from his own impulsiveness. Metal clinks & clatters echoed on the other line as Tim pulled out his toolbox to begin his robotics project. The noises eventually faded and Tim's voice returned, steady and insistent.
"You have to at least apologize," Tim pressed his friend, "Even if he's not ready to talk, it's important that Richie knows that there isn't any pressure for things to change. He's probably really anxious at the idea of things being different because of what happened. He needs to know that his best friend is still there for him." Tim's last comment gut punched Virgil as his face flushed with shame. Richie was most definitely worried and afraid about the uncertainty surrounding their friendship. Up until now, Virgil had been trying to justify his own actions—his impulsive touches, the subtle flirtations—as harmless, as just a way of testing boundaries. He never intended for these tests to backfire and hurt Richie.
"Yeah you're right," Virgil sighed, slumping his shoulders as he collapsed into his desk chair, "I was being selfish trying to go too fast. I wasn't thinking about Richie's feelings. I'll make it right."
"Do you know how you're going to approach this?"
"No."
"May I suggest not like an idiot?"
"That's a good start."
Richie shivered as he trudged toward the abandoned building he and Virgil had chosen as their HQ. The beaten and broken building acted as a camouflage against the rougher part of the urban area. The junkyard behind the base acted as a spare parts store for the young super genius to recycle in his larger-than-life tech. While the exterior of the building remained untouched, the two boy slowly had gutted the insides to be livable adding an AC, heater, & plumbing. She-Bang had added her own touches by decorating the main space with old furniture and curtain despite the boys' protest. It wasn't much but it was their own slice of paradise. These walls had seen them through the beginning.
Another Friday night—or early Saturday morning, depending how one looked at it—with no sleep or courage to face his best friend. Richie tightened the backpack strap on his right shoulder adjusting the weight that was held on his one side. The temperature was beginning to drop as the fall weather welcomed winter chills. Normally Richie enjoyed the icy breeze especially after longer nights spent in the lab. Lately, the blonde felt himself missing the natural warmth his best friend brought with him. Richie's eyes squinted as he drew nearer to the tattered doorway. A small pool of faint light spilled from the dirty windows. His footsteps slowed, softening his announcement of presence, and he crouched to avoid being seen by the potential intruder occupying the space. For a moment, Richie tried to remember if any of his partners had mentioned that they would be finishing up patrol so late. No one should be on rotation for another few hours mainly because villains needed their sleep just as much as they did. Richie's ears strained to listen for any noises to give him clues. A quiet, tired humming of some sort of pop song echoed through the gas station. It was most likely a young man, and he seemed to be alone. The blonde glanced around for any discarded metal that he could use as a weapon. He spotted a rusty pipe partially buried in debris, quickly picking it up and feeling its weight in his hand. Richie inhaled slowly before releasing the tension in his shoulders trying to quiet down the anxious thoughts that rushed through his mind reviewing every possibly worst case scenario. He wouldn't let anyone take away this space they had all worked so hard to build. This wasn't just a temporary base. This was their safe place to go when nothing made sense.
Richie stayed low as he rushed forward and kicked open the door. The shadow sprung up from his seat startled by the entrance and went to move forward. Seizing the opportunity, Richie used a nearby chair as a springboard, launching himself into a leap. He pulled back the lead pipe, ready to swing with the full weight of his descent. The shadowy figure, quick to react, held out his hands to catch the attack. The force of the impact toppled them both to the floor, with Richie landing on top. The two struggled for a moment, the figure beneath Richie trying to regain control as the blonde wrestled to maintain his advantage. The blonde slammed the intruder onto his back, using the lead pipe as a bar to press against the man's throat, trapping him. Richie leaned in, his breath coming in short bursts as he tried to focus through the adrenaline. Familiar brown eyes stared back at him unafraid as the gloved hands held onto Richie's sweatshirt so that he wouldn't pull away. Richie's grip on the lead pipe loosened as he it dawned on him. The tension in the room faded as the blonde's body relaxed for a moment.
"Want some coffee?" Virgil's tone was oddly relaxed considering the turn of events. His best friend's eyes remained kind and trusting, even after Richie's frantic attempt at self-defense. Those blue eyes stared through Virgil trying to get a better read on his emotions that were being masked but for once Richie was unsure what he was hiding.
"Y-yeah," Richie stammered shifting off of him and smoothing out his clothes trying to look like he was doing anything else but staring. His fingers fumbled with the cuffs of his sleeves as he felt the flush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks. Meanwhile, Virgil had gotten up and brushed off the dust and dirt from his superhero uniform. He walked over to the small counter where the coffee supplies laid splayed out disorganized—uncommon since Richie mainly kept the station tidy for his longer nights. Virgil turned on the machine and began preparing two cups. Richie's usual order was straightforward—black coffee with no sugar or cream. Virgil was rather appalled that his best friend drank his caffeine in such a way but this was the same person who would eat expresso beans like candy. His order was a stark contrast with all the works; sugar, cream, whipped cream, and sometimes sprinkles if he was feeling feisty. Tonight didn't seem like the time so Virgil settled for a bit of milk & sugar in his. Walking over to his friend, Virgil set down the cup on the table and pulled a chair to sit across from Richie. The room remained quiet except for the soft clinking of cups as Richie muttered a quiet thank you. The two of them sipped their coffee in silence, the shared ritual providing a momentary reprieve from the tension. Virgil squirmed in his chair finding it difficult to sit in the dishonest harmony that they've shared for the past few weeks.
"I'm sorry that I startled you. I just-," Virgil stopped himself before the confession slipped from his tongue. He remembered Tim's advice, keeping it at the forefront of his mind. Richie's feelings had to come first before he could even think about addressing his own. Richie needed to know that his best friend was always going to be there for him, no matter what.
Virgil took a deep breath, steadying himself, "I just wanted to check on you." His voice softened. "I know things have been...I'm always here for you Rich."
"It's fine, really," Richie sipped his coffee hoping to hide the red dusted across his cheeks. Maybe he could blame it on the steam from the freshly made cup. The fluttering in his chest didn't help. The idea of Virgil being concerned for him first before anything else always made him swoon. The emotional intimacy that they shared had never ceased to amaze Richie especially coming from a home that is very reserved. Normally, Richie felt the compulsion to care for others not the other way around. But Virgil had a way of breaking down those walls, of making him feel seen and valued in ways he hadn't known were possible. It was beyond terrifying. For now, Richie could be content with remaining in his presence even if it lead to nothing.
"So, do you want to talk about it?" Virgil's direct question sliced through the awkward silence that had settled over the room. Richie's breath caught in his throat. For a moment, he thought about pretending he hadn't heard him, but Virgil repeated the question a lot louder the second time. Richie's eye twitched in annoyance as his jaw clenched. Taking a deep breath, he was determined to keep his voice even.
"Talk about what? There's nothing to talk about," Richie said, his voice tinged with frustration as he stood up, coffee cup in hand. He grabbed his backpack, which had been tossed aside in the aftermath of their earlier confrontation, and made a beeline for the back door leading to his lab. His hope was that Virgil would eventually tire of his stubbornness and leave. It was a hope, however, that seemed increasingly unlikely.
"Ok, let me rephrase. I would like to talk about what happened a few weeks ago," Virgil stood in the way of the back door blocking Richie from his escape route. His stance was unwavering. Richie's brows furrowed in disapproval, a mix of frustration and reluctance evident on his face as he tried to push past Virgil. Virgil remained unyielding, gently but firmly reaching out to grasp Richie's wrist. The touch was both assertive and tender, a silent plea for Richie to stay. Virgil's brown eyes, usually brimming with confidence, now held an earnest vulnerability. They searched Richie's face for a sign of understanding or at least a willingness to engage. The weight of Virgil's gaze was heavy, conveying an emotional openness that made it harder for Richie to ignore. Richie felt his heart race as those brown eyes drew him in more and more with each moment. Unable to deny him or escape, Richie resulted to humor to shift the subject.
"You eating my sandwich in the fridge?" Richie attempted to sound snarky but the air was difficult to move through his vocal cords with Virgil looking at him like that.
"No-," Virgil hummed with a bit of a smile starting to creep on his his face at the memory.
"You leaving your shoes in the middle of the gas station and almost killing me?" Richie couldn't stop his own lips from tugging upwards. Virgil would never hear the end of his nagging especially since he had a chronic habit of forgetting where he left things. It would have been funnier if Richie hadn't almost broken his neck.
"No that's not-," Virgil let a small chuckle slip as his hand slipped from Richie's wrist to hold the blonde's hand. His thumb rubbed circles on the back of Richie's hand and the blonde let out a small shiver. Virgil's grin turned mischievous while Richie's cheeks blushed a deeper crimson.
"You stealing my hoodie and never giving it back?" Richie's voice dropped to a low whisper as he edged closer to Virgil. Virgil bit down on his bottom lip feeling the familiar tingle in his chest as his best friend closed the space between them.
"You're deflecting Rich," Virgil teased softly, pressing his other hand onto the lower back of the blonde and pulling him into a gentle embrace. Richie didn't resist. Instead, the blonde rested his forehead on his chest and Virgil tucked his head underneath his chin. The boys stood wrapped in an embrace for few minutes breathing in the intimacy and mixture of colognes.
"Virgil,I-," Richie was the first to break the silence lifting his head to make eye contact, but he couldn't find the words.
"Richie I'm sorry.," Virgil interrupted with a sincere tone, "I shouldn't have made you uncomfortable like that and then waited for you to bring up the conversation. That was never your responsibility."
Richie blinked, caught off guard by the mature approach to resolving their conflict. "Oh," he said, faltering for a moment. "Um, I'm sorry too for dodging you. I just got overwhelmed…"
"It's fine. I get it," Virgil reassured him in a softer voice as he hugged Richie tighter rocking them both side to side. Richie took another deep breath allowing his body to relax in his embrace as he wrapped his arms around his upper back. The exhaustion from sleepless nights made him more emotional than usual, but Virgil didn't comment on it. Instead, he simply pulled back slightly and tenderly brushed the tears from Richie's cheeks.
Virgil then stepped aside from the doorway, giving Richie the choice to retreat further into the gas station. Despite the invitation, Richie remained in the doorway, the warmth of the moment still anchoring him. Virgil nodded his head towards the direction of the older couch offering Richie a more comfortable place to relax instead of the doorway. Richie rubbed his eyes while thinking making a cons & pros list of sitting down at 2 am. The blonde reasoned that he wasn't going to get much work done with the emotional conversations they've been having so he followed Virgil closely behind. Richie was the first of them to collapse onto the couch taking his usual spot on the very end so he could stretch out his feet onto Virgil's lap. He let his neck rest on the arm of the couch, finally easing the crick that had plagued him for days. Virgil lightly scolded him, concerned that he might aggravate his neck issues, but Richie was too relaxed to really hear. The darkness and comfort of the couch were slowly drawing him into sleep. Virgil sat on the other end of the couch holding the blonde's feet in his lap so that he could fidget with the anklets on the shoe laces.
"There is something else that I want to talk about," Virgil's voice was a bit lighter this time but still held an air of seriousness.
"Yeah?" Richie asked as he begun to fall asleep. The cathartic resolution from their earlier conversation had left him feeling drained but at peace All of Richie's stress was melting away with the relationship leveling back to a sense of normalcy.
"These past few months I've...well you see it's like-," Virgil was becoming frustrated as he stumbled his own words. For a few minutes, he talked himself in circles not saying much of anything. Richie, trying to be patient despite his own exhaustion, bit his tongue, though his irritability was growing.
"Yeah? What is it?" Richie's tone was rougher than intended, but Virgil seemed to be unaffected by any harshness conveyed to him.
"I just really like you Rich," Virgil admitted, a hint of amusement in his tone at Richie's obliviousness. Richie scoffed at the confession and refrained from saying a sarcastic remark. It had been a long night and Virgil just wanted reassurance.
"I like you too Virgil."
"No Rich," Virgil chuckled softly, his expression a mixture of affection and exasperation. "I want to be your boyfriend."
A sobering feeling washed over Richie as his brain processed his best friend's casual and quiet love confession. Virgil sat in the silence patiently waiting for Richie to catch up in their conversation. The blonde slowly sat up from his laying position with widen eyes and a bit of sweat on his forehead. Virgil smiled and then winked seeing if he could get another blush from his interest. Richie cleared his throat a bit loudly trying to fake a poker face.
"I must be really exhausted," his voice cracked for a moment making the entire situation more embarrassing than it had to be, "I thought I hear you say that you wanted to be my boyfriend." Richie struggled
"You would be correct on both accounts," Virgil's smile never wavered as he grew more confident, "I want to take you out on dates, give each other cute pet names, hold your hand…" Virgil listed out all the couples activities in excitement showing his serious intention behind it all. Richie's cheeks grew hotter as Virgil described the date nights in detail suggesting different ways they could spend time together. No longer will he have to be accepting of fantasy that could never be. Virgil intended to court him the same way he's courted other partners in the past. Virgil peered over his shoulder to check on Richie after a few minutes of uninterrupted rambling and noticed that his friend was becoming seemingly overwhelmed. He slowed down his excited speech and soften his voice,
"There is no pressure for anything to change Rich," Virgil said gently, his voice calming as he gave Richie's hand a brief, affectionate kiss. He flashed a flirty, reassuring smile. "I just wanted you to know that I would be happy to explore this new avenue if you're interested." Richie softly pressed the claimed hand against Virgil's cheek. Their eyes locked, and Virgil leaned in, allowing Richie to guide their physical contact. The tenderness of the moment sparked a burning desire within Richie, a mix of exhilaration and longing. Virgil's closeness and the softness of his touch only heightened the intensity of the moment. The air between them seemed to crackle with anticipation.
"I don't want to lose you," Richie admitted in a small and terrified voice. He didn't look away and allowed Virgil to peer deeper into his vulnerability. Virgil hummed in acknowledge allowing Richie a moment to explain if he felt the need to. When nothing surface, Virgil pushed forward.
"I won't let that happen," Virgil's promise held an idealistic conviction. Despite it seeming like a tall order, Richie knew that Virgil believed that he could make good on it. Richie moved his legs off of Virgil's lap and closed the distance between them once more. He settled onto the couch, facing Virgil, who was now sitting with his back against the opposite armrest. This time, Richie rested one of his hands onto Virgil's chest so he could feel his heartbeat while Virgil took his other hand.
"How do you know that?" Richie would always be the stubborn skeptic that need proof before leaping—data that proved that this wasn't going to be the worst decision of his life. The super genius had spent the majority of his life wearing his heart on his sleeve until he became a superhero and realized how dangerous it was to stay in the clouds. He and Virgil couldn't both be the dreamers; someone had to ground the team. Richie's gaze was steady, searching for any concrete reassurance.
"While I don't have my PowerPoint presentation with me-," Virgil's smartass attitude shone through with his playful demeanor returning.
"You? Unprepared?" Richie's eyebrow quirked as his smart mouth fired back a verbal jab unable to hide his amusement.
"I know. What a shocker" Virgil pulled Richie to sit into his lap with his back pressed against his chest, "But I do know that I will always need you in my life." Richie leaned back and allowed Virgil to wrap his arms around him providing a sense of comfort and protection. Virgil pressed his cheek against Richie's as they breathed in one other's presence. Virgil dropped his voice to a whisper.
"Having the chance to know you so much deeper than I already do is worth a million heartbreaks," Richie wasn't sure what he was blushing but he did know the hot breath in his ear brought a shiver down his spine.
"God you're such a hopeless romantic," Richie said, trying to inject a note of nonchalance into his voice but failing as it came out more like a whine. He gently cupped Virgil's face with his hands, turning it to face him. Virgil's eyes twinkled with a playful smirk as he let out a soft, cocky laugh, holding Richie's hand against his cheek and savoring the touch.
"It's one of the reasons you like me," Virgil leaned forward allowing a few inches to separate their lips. He enjoyed the teasing game they played, making Richie stay right on the edge of closeness. Richie didn't move locking eyes with him as a form of defiance.
"Yeah. It is," Richie gripped Virgil by his collar and pulled him into a kiss stunning the usually confident teen. The blonde lead their kiss occasionally nipping his partner's bottom lip as a form of his own teasing. Virgil groaned settling his hands around Richie waist pulling him to straddle his hips. The blonde allowed his boyfriend to shift their position as he wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his head to pull him deeper into the kiss. Virgil squeezed Richie's waist between his hands and the blonde gasped from the contact allowing his partner to push his tongue through his lips. The two newly coupled sat on the couch for a few minutes enjoying their intimate display until Virgil pulled away to bury his face into Richie's neck mumbling something about needing to slow down before he gets too excited. Richie smiled allowing himself a few moments to clear his own head that was filled with the rushing hormones. He ran his fingers through Virgil's dreadlocks as the two settled back into the quiet.
"We should go to bed soon. It's probably almost four," Richie let out a yawn moving to get out of his boyfriend's lap. Virgil stood up to stretch and followed Richie to the back of the HQ where sleeping quarters were installed for the team. The two settled into separate beds wanting to take things slow and create any pressure to rush things. Soft "good nights" were the last words spoken before the dawn rays broke through the early morning.