Chapter Text
Stars, now what was Logan supposed to do here?
It was striking, really. Red splashed across the walls, bright as if it was freshly painted there. Dark in some spots, dried and odorous. It seeped across the floor, crawling ever so slowly towards Logan's feet, and he stumbled a step back so as to keep his freshly polished dress shoes clean.
Someone spoke, and Logan managed to pry his eyes from the floor to meet their eyes- shining in the limited light, gaze dark and almost angry. "What the hell," they asked, and Logan's eyes fell to the blade in the other's hand, "are you doing down here." It was phrased as a statement, less as a question, and Logan didn't have much of a response.
"Virgil," he managed, and he found his voice was strangely even despite the gore across the floor- the hooks hanging from the ceiling- and the body on the table, face slack, mouth open and eyes open yet relaxed, never to tense again. Certainly, Virgil had told him never to stray down to the basement, but this- this certainly wasn't what Logan had been expecting, when he finally did. When he'd let himself into Virgil's house. He'd wanted to talk to him, he thought. About something unimportant, like his day at work, or perhaps a rare bird he'd seen on the way. It didn't matter much now- such things seemed trivial and unimportant in the face of this.
He moved almost too quickly for Logan to react, flicking the knife to his side to rid excess blood before he was pinning Logan to the red wall, the sharp object pressed tightly against his throat- close enough to feel. Close enough to note the threat. Logan swallowed, and it dug in- just enough to nick him, enough to draw a scratch. The back of his suit was surely ruined.
"I didn't want to," Virgil whispered.
"I doubt that," Logan answered, almost with a chuckle. "Don't lie to me so blatantly."
"Alright, so what if I did?" He questioned, eyes glinting up again to meet Logan's, and they were so close now that Logan wanted to lean forward- cut his throat just that little bit extra to meet the killer's lips. He didn't, of course. Temptations did not equate to desires.
"Why?" Logan finally asked, and a crazed grin split his friend's face. Maybe it was the familiarity- the obvious question, the fact that even in a situation like this, Logan couldn't stand to be apathetic. He had to ask. He was detrimentally curious to the point of flaw, and they both knew it. It shone in his voice in that single word- not a word of shock, but earnest curiosity. A desire to know.
"For you," the killer said. This was, truthfully, quite confusing to Logan.
"I don't remember ever being gifted-" he spoke up, and Virgil giggled- shook his head and pulled back. Maybe he just decided that Logan wasn't a threat. It wouldn't be a false assumption- Logan had never been a fighter. He was a little upset, though.
His shoes were stained with blood.
"They looked at you," Virgil continued, making his way towards the body. "Thought themselves worthy enough to flirt. You understand, Logan? They just made me so angry." He lifted the dead man's head by his hair- scowled as he let it fall to the table with a thunk. The most curious thing was that Logan didn't even recognize him. He thought it, maybe, a little flattering- to have secured Virgil's affections so thoroughly that Virgil paid closer attention to the folks Logan had met than Logan had himself.
"Unnecessary," he said aloud, rolling his shoulders, and Virgil's eyes flashed from the body to him. "Perhaps you should work on more healthy outlets for stress."
"You're a goddamn prick," Virgil snarled.
"No, I don't think so," Logan responded simply, walking up to the body himself- and Virgil almost seemed to brace himself, as if Logan was going to do something against him. Silly, really. "You've put me in quite the predicament. I could report you- attack you- or simply die here. I could help you hide this body, but you would expect the same in the future, and that seems like entirely too much responsibility for me to take on at this moment." He ran his fingers gently across the dead man's cheek. The skin was still warm. Logan glanced up- met his friend's wary gaze.
"Or," he continued. "We could play a game- one in which I pretend I never saw this, in which our friendship remains unimpaired- because truthfully, Virgil, you are the only one who means even a little bit of anything to me, and while I believe taking our relationship further might be rather entertaining, I think even you would prefer we do that under different circumstances… am I incorrect?"
He was taken aback as Virgil grasped the back of his hair with his free hand and pulled him into a kiss- messy and harsh enough that Logan barely kept from placing his hands on the dead man between them and placed them on the table instead. He near melted into the kiss- shaky by the end of it with a little more emotion than he had experienced in several years.
"Fine then," Virgil said when he pulled back, that crazed grin on his face splitting to show teeth. "What happens in the basement stays in the basement, so be a good boy and go back upstairs until I'm done ," he finished on a growl.
Overwhelmed and obedient, Logan did as he was told.