Summary: Virgil knows about the rumors, he just isn't sure what to think of them. VR slash, but Virgil's in denial.

Rating: K+ or whatever the hell the new 'PG' is. Does anyone care to enlighten me as to the reason decided to confuse everyone?

Disclaimer: If I owned, the boys' outfits would be a lot skimpier and Daisy would be out of the picture.

Platonically

He thought they were looking at him again. It was hard to tell- it wasn't as though he could turn around. He sort of cricks his neck and tries to glance at the seats behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he can see two of the soccer girls very carefully not looking at him. They seem to be whispering about something.

Well, damn them. They didn't know what they were talking about. Sheesh, like it was a crime for someone to fall asleep. Bus rides did it to the guy. So he didn't want to wake him up- they were out late the night before. It's not like it meant, that. It wasn't like he wanted him to, he just did.

Richie sort of sighs and rubs his head against Virgil's shoulder. His hair tickles Virgil's neck. His glasses slip down his nose. Thanks Richie. If they weren't talking before. Not Richie's fault. It just really makes Virgil mad. Couldn't a guy have friends anymore without getting talked about?

All right, so maybe they spent a lot of time together. Why shouldn't they? Richie was fun, and they liked the same things and besides, it wasn't as though they had a lot of other friends. Not close, at least, unless you counted Daisy and Freida, which Virgil didn't, seeing as Freida barely noticed them unless she had a project to do, and he could hardly even talk to Daisy without feeling nervous. Richie was the kind of guy that you just felt at ease with, so that from the first day they'd met he'd felt like he'd known the guy all his life. And you could just hang out with him without having to decorate for Homecoming or something as an excuse. Once they had spent a whole day doing nothing but seeing how many marshmallows they could eat without throwing up, a contest that Richie, despite looking so skinny he was going to fall out of his clothes, easily won.

And they had to stick together, right? Since the Bang, he didn't get picked on so much anymore. Superhero self-confidence, all the bullies moved on to bigger crime, finally growing into his limbs, who knew? But before, well, there were times when Richie was the only guy who'd stand up for him. People were always giving them odd looks. Well. If he were being perfectly honest, he'd admit that people were always giving Richie odd looks. He'd usually had no trouble blending in, making friends, as long as jerks like F-Stop or whatever he was called then weren't making him miserable. But Richie never really mastered the blending thing, so he got the looks.

Which was stupid! Richie was a great guy. Yeah, even before he became a genius, he preferred machines to people and designing weird gadgets to school dances and football games, but so? Yeah, Richie wasn't the kind of guy who knew how people worked. But that never mattered. He knew how machines worked, and how the plots of Virgil's kind of movies and comic books worked, and more importantly he knew how Virgil worked. Sometimes it was scary, the way he would just shake his head and give him that ironic twist-upped-lips-arched-eyebrow face, like when he talked about his little crush on Daisy, like he knew something Virgil didn't and was just waiting for him to figure it out. Kind of how the teacher makes you find the error on your math test yourself, when he knows where it is all along. Must be a genius thing, only Virgil remembers that Richie did that long before he starting becoming Gear.

Virgil thought Richie knew about the things people said about them. He never said anything, but sometimes when Virgil felt glances on the back of head, maybe if he just happened to have his arm around Richie's shoulders or something, he'd look over and Richie would be giving him the ironic look, only just out of the corner of his eye? lips? face? It always made Virgil go red, because how could he not care that people thought that? It was awkward, and he tried to show them, so that for weeks he wouldn't even touch Richie and he'd flirt with Daisy every time he'd get the chance, just so they would realize that they were just hanging out, y'know?

Richie didn't help- always getting so ticked off and trying to drag him away from Daisy and never trying to get any girls of his own, which wouldn't have been so hard, because even though they thought he was odd, he was still, you know, cute. Well, Virgil really wouldn't know that, but that's what the girls thought, you could tell. Maybe it was the earring, or the glasses. But Richie never helped, he didn't even care about Virgil's reputation, or that people thought he was Virgil's- he couldn't even think the mortifying word- boyfriend. Eesh. Richie never cared about stuff like that. He shrugged and grinned, or did that lunatic laugh he had, or just played along. In a way you had to admire it, except it was so…weird.

So what if Richie practically lived at Virgil's house? He just didn't always get along with his parents. It wasn't like he was going to kick Richie out. He'd tried it before, and caught him sleeping on the couch in the gas station the next morning. And anyways, they were friends, friends were supposed to do stuff like that. It wasn't like they made out- they usually just watched movies and stuff. Okay, there was that one time- but they had been up late, it wasn't their fault what proximity they had been in when they fell asleep. Daisy and Freida hugged and stuff sometimes. Richie hadn't even looked embarrassed, which was frustrating, because Virgil sure was. Stupid ironic look.

But still, they didn't have to talk about them like that, because he didn't give a damn, because he wasn't going to wake Richie up because he didn't mind. If Richie woke up, he'd tell him off and make him mind Virgil's personal space. Until then, well.

The bus bumps a bit when it hits a pothole, and Richie's body is jostled into Virgil's shoulder. He grumbles really low, and Virgil touches a concerned hand to his cheek.

Richie yawns. 'Mmmm, hey, V,' he mutters, and then shifts over a bit off Virgil. He grins and chuckles. ''m really tired.'

'Yeah, I know,' said Virgil. 'S'okay, you took the late patrol.'

'Do you mind if I-' says Richie, who lays his head back on Virgil's shoulder and shuts his eyes. Virgil opens his mouth to answer, although he doesn't know which one he'll say, but Richie mumbles something and his glasses slip down his nose and he buries his face into Virgil's jacket and he's already back asleep with a not-so-ironic smile on his face.

Virgil looks at Richie's slipping glasses and in one deft movement, he reaches around Richie's back, plucks the glasses from his face, and places them in the sleeping boy's palm. His fingers close around the metal wires, other fingers are brushed against the hand. Virgil, despite being pinned to the bus seat by his friend's body, turns his head and gives a defiant glare at the people behind him. It isn't any of their business, anyway.