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It was in the spring of his first year of university that Virgil began to avoid his dorm. The year before, the idea of it would have been unimaginable— he had been so excited to be going to the same school as Janus, to be living together. Years of friendship and pining and uncertainty, finally shifting into something with a forward momentum. Virgil, just a year ago, was thrilled by the prospect of spending so much time with someone he cared about so much.
Lately, it had been harder to dig up that sentiment. He was sure it was there, somewhere, but Virgil was simultaneously distressed and empowered by the realization that he had a new definition of moving forward, of becoming an adult:
Virgil only wanted to be where he was welcome, explicitly. Where he was treated with respect, where he was never taken for granted.
He didn’t have many friends in high school, so he had never tried to hope for friends like Logan, Roman, and Patton— he wouldn’t have had the language for it, even. But, miraculously, the wish came true without needing even been asked for. Virgil had a place, had people, he felt safe with. This realization, however, made it incredibly difficult for him to enjoy his best friend’s company in the way he used to. Even if he still loved Janus, in the million and one twisted up ways he always had, he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t slowly becoming someone different.
More often than not, Virgil only entered their share dorm to pack his things and leave for Patton and Roman’s. That, or to take a well-earned nap between classes. Virgil had yet to decide which he was planning to do when he darkened the doorway, causing Janus to turn his head to face him.
Virgil glanced down at him as he closed the door behind him. Sometimes, he felt ridiculous for having ever been afraid of Janus— Janus, who was so effortlessly beautiful. Dark hair combed to the side, brown eyes stern and serious, his face an ever-striking contrast of softness and sharpness. The up-turn of his nose, the dark angle of his brows, the deep pink of his lips and birth-mark standing out against his tan skin, the smallness and litheness of his frame, the way he still managed to look intimidatingly elegant even as he sat casually on his bed.
It was never hard for Virgil to forget why he had once loved him. Remembering that the love wasn’t a death sentence, wasn’t something he was eternally bound to— that took work.
“Feels like I hardly ever see you anymore,” Janus tried to say it neutrally, but to Virgil the strain in his voice was obvious. He was forcing it.
“Yeah, well,” Virgil shrugged. “I have other friends now. Is that a problem?”
It was not a real question. There was no answer Janus could give that wouldn’t put Virgil on edge.
“I— of course it isn’t,” Janus said, voice harsher now. He also knew it was a trap.
“Good,” Virgil huffed. “You know you don’t get to have a problem with it, right?”
“Jesus, I was just saying— I don’t see you as often. Wasn’t a complaint, I like having the dorm to myself,” Janus snapped.
Virgil chuckled under his breath, “Right, that’s why I never see you without Remus.”
On cue, Remus glanced up from where he was sat on the floor— working on his laptop while Janus sat above him in his bed, a now-ignored book in his hands.
“So you can have other friends,” Janus started. “But I can’t?“
“Didn’t say that,” Virgil’s tone was flat.
“But you think it, right?”
“No,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “I think you do, though. Glad to hear you realize how stupid it sounds.”
“Look, I just think it’s kind of shitty of you to hang out with Remus’ asshole brother,” Janus shrugged. “Feels pointed.”
“Pointed to who?” Virgil snorted, turning his attention to Remus with an exasperated sigh. “Do you care if I hang out with Roman?”
“Aw, don’t bring me into your lover’s quarrel,” Remus pouted, but his tone was light-hearted. “Very traumatic for me. You know, I’ve been thinking— I don’t think my mother ever really loved my father. Isn’t that sad?“
Janus and Virgil exchanged confused glances.
“See,” Remus beamed. “I can also make things awkward! This is fun.”
“We’re not— this isn’t a lover’s quarrel,” Virgil forced out, voice slightly strained and face quickly heating. “We’re not dating.”
“Christ,” Janus groaned. “He knows that. Everyone knows that. He just fucking says shit.”
Virgil dropped his backpack down on his bed, fishing through it. He took out a textbook and gently tossed it so it hit the mattress with a thud. He crouched down, fishing through his drawers, silent.
“But, no— why would I care about you hanging out with Roman?” Remus chuckled. “I honestly just think it’s funny. Whenever I see you two on campus it looks like a WASP mom going for groceries with her emo daughter. It's kind of delightful.”
Virgil snickered at that, packing clothes into his backpack. He sat down on his bed, facing Remus as he zipped up his bag.
“That’s really funny, actually,” Virgil smiled. “I genuinely am glad to hear it doesn’t bother you. I do also think you’re cool.”
“D’aww,” Remus cooed. “I’m flattered. Virgil, there is no one else I would rather watch weird animal videos with post-panic attack.”
“Yeah, I appreciate that you also agree that spiders count as a ‘cute animal,’” Virgil stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Patton has yet to be persuaded. I intend to win them over, though, so I will be accepting your cutest spider and tarantula pictures for the cause.”
“Tarantulas are puppy,” Remus said, seriously, making eye contact with Virgil. Virgil nodded, just as serious.
“Tarantulas are puppy.”
Janus kept quiet, but rolled his eyes. He curled his legs into himself and continued reading the book he had been occupied with before Virgil entered.
“You can still sleep here, you know,” Janus doesn’t look up as he says it. Virgil smiles, sadly, and hums softly in agreement.
“I know, it’s my dorm,” Virgil tries playing it off. “Just been busy. Nothing personal.”
“Right, well,” Janus clicks his tongue. “See you when I see you, I guess.”
Virgil hesitates in the doorway, wondering if maybe he has taken things too far. Wonders if Janus is actually hurt. Wonders if he should try and make more of an effort to balance his time between his friends.
“Join us for lunch tomorrow?” Remus suggests, filling the tense silence. Virgil blinks, startled, but can’t help but let out a soft laugh— it was actually pretty nice to know both twins as individuals, especially in little moments like this where they felt so profoundly similar.
Janus still didn’t look at Virgil, but his shoulders tensed.
“Yeah, why not,” Virgil shrugged. “Text me details tomorrow.”
Janus, expressionless, nods, “Will do.”
“Have fun with cat backpack~” Remus teased.
“They have a name,” Virgil smiles shyly, halfway out the door but holding it open for the sake of conversation.
“I know they do,” Remus hummed. “And Patton also has a cat backpack. Both accurate means of identification.”
“It is pretty cute,” Virgil’s voice softens and he quickly corrects. “Or, uh— identifiable, I mean. Hard to miss!”
“You like cats or something?” Remus snickers. “Nya, etc.?”
“Something like that,” Virgil agrees, nervously. “Um, anyway— need to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow!”
After the door clicks shut behind him, Virgil can’t help but wonder— how many more lunches does he have with Janus, really? It has become increasingly clear to Virgil that the number is finite. He doesn’t know whether that excites or terrifies him. He doesn’t know if it means he should cherish the time they are spending together, or if he should just comfort himself with the fact that he won’t have to play this game much longer.
He’s so tired. He knows they won’t be friends after this semester and it feels like a terrible secret to be keeping.
But, today isn’t then and neither is tomorrow. Virgil tries and fails to remind himself that he hasn’t technically made a decision yet. But, he knows he mostly has. He isn’t uncertain because he has any substantial doubts, he just feels guilty. The idea of cutting off Janus, of washing the blood from his hands, makes him feel like a monster and a coward.
He hates that it also feels so, so right. Like it’s the only way he’ll ever be truly free.
As anxiety-inducing as it has been, Virgil has enjoyed these past few months of a haphazard balancing act. He liked having one foot out of the door.
Virgil could live like this until it came time for sophomore year rooming selection. He knew he couldn’t room with Janus again and wanted to give him time to decide if he was going to sort something out with Remus or not.
This time next year, he would be Logan’s roommate. Patton would insist they go for ice cream after class. Roman would recount his day with unfathomable theatrics, turning the three of them into both audience members and props as he would drape himself over them and randomly take their hands to emphasize a point. Patton was typically the victim of this treatment, but Logan received it too. Virgil usually got out unscathed, which he appreciated, but it also felt like something Roman did because he wasn’t as close to Virgil as he was with the others. Virgil decided that his future self would be able to handle it, that it would be worth a mild startle to feel like he was really part of something.
Virgil smiled to himself as he thought about it, the idea of a normal that felt like a weight off of his shoulders.
He didn’t want to feel bad for wanting that.
Virgil was going to throw up. He was going to throw up and then he was going to die, or drop out of college, or something— he was beyond the point of coherent catastrophization. When he had first considered this, his plan was just to ghost Janus. To subtly phase out of his life, without having to spell it out or name it. It saved both of them a whole lot of pain and embarrassment.
But, he couldn’t do it.
Janus deserved honesty, deserved a friend who could own up to his choices. If Virgil was going to run, was going to abandon his best friend for the sake of something as trite as his own mental health— he should at least have the courtesy to do it in person.
That was how Patton had been putting it, anyway— “offer him that courtesy.”
Virgil didn’t really know whether he should be taking anyone else’s advice on this sort of thing, but it was too stressful to try and handle it on his own. He remembers the first time he admitted he didn’t like how Janus treated him, how terrifying it had been to speak it, how he immediately wanted to take it back.
But, he also remembers how Roman’s face softened in sympathy. Remembers what he said:
“You don’t owe your future to people from your past. Shared experiences and history don’t amount to a life debt. You can cut your losses,” Roman had shrugged, resting an elbow on his knee and idly picking at his cuticles. “Whatever choice you make, I have your back. I know it’s complicated. I don’t think Logan or Patton really get it, why it’s so hard for me to talk to him. Why I don’t want to.”
Virgil smiled, awkward, “I think it’s nice that they don’t have a framework for loving someone who makes you feel like you’re eating glass. We should be so lucky.”
“Yeah, well,” Roman laughed, quiet and strained. He raises his hand up, miming a ‘cheers’ with an invisible glass. “To family, blood and chosen and god-awful all the same.”
Logan’s main advice was to “please just tell him before housing selection— if I have to fight over you as a roommate with someone, I am just going to register for a medical single again.”
Which made Virgil bristle, but it was kind of hard to hold that against him. Virgil wouldn’t want to deal with roommate drama either, if he had the option. But, he didn’t. Not until he followed through with this, until he at the very least told Janus that he wasn’t going to room with him next year. Logan’s other advice, actually, had been to leave it there— “There’s nothing else you have to say. You aren’t going to room together. It can just be that.”
But, Virgil knew he couldn’t do that. Patton and Roman understood it, too. How this was far too big of a thing to get out of that easily.
“It sounds like you really loved him,” Patton had said. “Like he loved you, too. It’s hard being a kid, it’s great you didn’t have to do that alone. But, those types of friendships do run pretty deep. It’s something worth treating seriously.”
So, he had decided to do it like this— to ask Janus to meet him on a campus bench in the early evening. It was April. The evenings were still chilly, but it was starting to get warm. Daylight stretched out longer, it was just after 8pm and the sky was a warm magenta-purple. Virgil wasn’t sure if he hated the early evenings of winter, necessarily, but he knew he loved a spring sky. As he sat, waiting, he took a few slow breaths in and out. He’d been practicing that, to mixed success.
Janus showed up, a few minutes after the time Virgil had originally suggested. Truthfully, Virgil hadn’t been sure whether to even count on Janus’ arrival. He’d expected more pushback, an insistence that they should just do this over text. Expected Janus to fire the first shot, to strike Virgil before Virgil could even say anything.
But, instead, he sat quietly down at the opposite side of the bench. His face was expressionless. Virgil had always found him so difficult to read. It was impossible to tell what he was feeling.
“Nice night,” Janus offered, making small talk. It made Virgil smile, involuntarily. Janus caught the smile and returned it, a small and fleeting smirk gracing his face. “So, what’s up with you?”
“I wanted to talk,” Virgil said, quiet. His hands were situated in his lap, gripping nervously at his knees.
“Yeah, no shit, idiot,” Janus chuckled. “You texted me that much. Scared me a little, thought you were breaking up with me or something.”
Virgil turned his head away from Janus, silent.
“Wait,” Janus sounded briefly hurt, before snickering. “Oh my God. That’s exactly what this is, huh? You’re really trying to break up with me. You are such a freak. You could have just ghosted me like a normal person. Who breaks up with their friends like this?”
Virgil tensed, rubbing his hands awkwardly together. He shrugged. Still avoiding eye contact, he mused, “I just figured you’d want to hear it from me.”
Janus rolled his eyes, still quietly chuckling to himself, “Hear it from… yeah, okay. Alright, fine, do your worst. I can yes-and this idiocy, why not? Should I get into character, go method? Pretend to be a deeply bereaved widow who has been abandoned by her new lover? That feels fitting to your goddamn melodrama.”
“I—“ Virgil started, shaking his head. He glanced at Janus, but was quick to look away again. “I don’t know why I expected you to take this seriously. I told Patton it was a bad idea to do this in person, that you don’t—“
“Oh!” Janus’ voice was louder, more acutely irritated. “Well, gee, if Patton says so!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil snapped. “You don’t get to talk about him.”
“Ooh, scary,” Janus teased, rolling his eyes again. “So protective. Adorable. Wishing you the best in holy meow-trimony.”
“You and Remus can drop the cat thing. I don’t like it,” Virgil frowned. “I know you’re saying it to be mean to him.”
“How is that mean? He has a fucking cat backpack. You volunteer with cats, it’s— sorry, god forbid I joke about anything, right?” Janus huffed, picking at the skin around his nails. “Tells my best friend how to get rid of me, but I’m the asshole because I joke about the kid’s fucking backpack. You always do this. Everything is always my fault.”
“I didn’t say that it was your fault,” Virgil’s voice was harsh, but watery. “I… Janus, it’s the whole thing. It’s what we’re doing now. We’re not good to each other. It’s, it’s my fault too. I think we forgot how to be nice to each other a while ago.”
“Nice,” Janus rolled his eyes. “Nice is for strangers. Nice is for people you don’t actually give a shit about. I don’t fucking want you to be nice to me.”
“Well,” Virgil shrugged. “I guess we can agree to disagree, then. I would have liked you to be nicer to me. I wish I had been nicer to you. But, I think it’s kind of ‘too little, too late’ on that front.”
There is a beat of quiet between them. Janus opens his mouth and closes it. He buries his face in his hands, groans, then slaps his thighs. He turns to face Virgil, eyes dark and tone harsh, “You’re actually fucking serious? A few months with the fucking care bear squad and you’re just done with me?
“Of course I’m serious,” Virgil sighed, exhausted. “I didn’t ask you here for the fucking bit, dude. And it’s not… it’s not them, and it’s not you. It sounds stupid, but it’s me.”
“You’re right, that sounds stupid,” Janus glared. “I’m your…whatever, whatever. I’m not gonna fucking fight you on this, I can’t even— you’re such a baby. This is so stupid. I can’t believe you’re making me sit through this.”
“You can leave,” Virgil hugged himself lightly as he said it. “I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t want to be friends with you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t…” Janus swallowed hard, standing up. “Do whatever you want to do, but don’t apologize to me. I don’t need that from you.”
Virgil, nervous, turned his gaze towards Janus. He nodded, solemn.
“Okay.”
Janus stood still for a moment, eyes tracing over Virgil. His expression was unreadable and with a sigh he turned on his heel.
In a mixture of exhaustion, guilt, and relief— Virgil broke down, quietly crying into his hands, once Janus was well and gone. It went as terribly as he could have expected, really, but he had done it.
It was over.