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Roier feels silly going to his fathers’ place in the middle of the night the week before his wedding.
He’s a grown man now; he doesn’t get to come running back home every time something goes wrong like his baby sister Leonarda.
Roier finds he’s weirdly jealous of her in the way she gets all of their attention now. It makes perfect sense – she’s still growing. Hell, Roier’s been a parent. He knows just as well how demanding kids her age are.
It doesn’t stop him from needing to be taken care of, too.
He knows Foolish will be up, because he keeps terrible hours and Vegetta’s gotten onto him time and time again for never sleeping enough.
It’s achingly familiar to slip into the house that his dads built themselves, towering over the island. It’s always been a landmark he’s oriented himself by when exploring.
When he was younger, Vegetta would point to a particular spot on the tower you could see from miles away and tell him to always keep it in sight. Then he’d never be too far from home.
Even though, Roier uses his childhood home as a sort of North Star. It’s reassuring in a way that most of the island isn’t.
The door shuts quietly behind him, and he spots Foolish hunched over his blueprints at the kitchen table like he did every night. Vegetta always teased him, saying he’d need reading glasses soon if he kept up with that habit.
“Leo? I told you to go to bed hours ago,” Foolish’s voice echoes throughout the stone-walled space, and Roier’s face quirks up into a smile at the stern tone Foolish always tries to put on.
“No, Dad, uh, it’s me,” Roier steps into the weak beam of light the kitchen lantern is giving off, and Foolish looks up from the mass of papers scattered in front of him.
“Roier, mijo, it’s two in the morning,” Foolish glances at the watch on his wrist.
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have come,” Roier starts apologizing, knowing this was a bad idea. His dads are busy people, and he’s not little anymore.
Foolish gets up from the table and crosses the room to him silently. The warm golden glow Foolish always seems to emit wraps Roier up like a hug.
“Hey, no, you came here for a reason. Is something wrong?” Foolish asks, worry creasing his features. He’s always hated how much Foolish has been able to see through him.
“It’s about the wedding,” Roier admits, and Foolish looks at him sympathetically.
“Cold feet? I keep telling Vegetta it’s crazy our son is getting married before we do,” Foolish grins, and Roier can feel more of his defenses melting away.
He’s always so guarded, protecting himself with a persona he’s constructed over the years. It’s easier to be the server’s biggest flirt or the server’s sole therapist. It’s even easier to fall back into the shadow of his dads, who have made a considerable name for themselves on the island. It’s not easy to be just Roier.
Roier finds he can only be himself within these walls. Jaiden’s gotten close to the real Roier, but even his own partner hasn’t broken down the final wall he threw up against anyone who isn’t immediate family.
“I guess it’s more about Cellbit,” Roier amends, and Foolish’s grin falls. It’s one thing to be worried about the wedding itself; it’s quite another to be worried about who he’s marrying.
“Go sit down – I’ll make us some tea,” Foolish instructs, and Roier gives him a half-hearted smile.
“You know I don’t even like tea, Dad,” Roier points out, and Foolish waves him off.
“It’s good for soul-searching; I’ve seen it in the movies,” Foolish declares as he busies himself with putting the kettle on.
Roier rolls his eyes, because he will never understand his father’s antics. Sitting down in the worn wooden chair across from his father’s spot, he’s reminded of all the family discussions that have taken place over the years.
When Roier got into his first fight at school, when Vegetta had to take a job that would keep him away for months at a time, when Foolish broke his arm during a build and Vegetta made Roier promise to look after his father and make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, and finally, when Roier told them he was going off to get his degree in psychology.
The island is different now – steeped in mystery and suspicious in a way it wasn’t when Roier grew up. The house hasn’t changed, though, and Roier appreciates the small bit of continuity.
Foolish places a chipped mug of steaming black tea in front of Roier, and Roier lets the steam warm his face. He waited probably too long in the chilly night air, debating if he should go in.
The mug has a sunshine yellow logo of the Federation on it, with “Disfrute La Isla!” printed neatly underneath it.
“Don’t worry, I added enough sugar into yours to kill a man,” Foolish remarks as he takes a sip from his own mug.
Roier sticks his tongue out childishly at Foolish, but he does appreciate the heat of the tea when he eventually drinks some.
A pleasant silence stretches between them as Foolish sets his mug down and picks up his pencil again. The scratching sounds of graphite against paper are comforting in their familiarity, and Roier lets himself indulge in the feeling of home for a bit longer.
“I’m not going to make you talk, but you came here for a reason. You can tell me what’s on your mind, you know,” Foolish stops writing, and Roier knows he needs to talk now.
It’s funny – his whole job is to talk to people about their problems. Yet when it comes to his own, he may as well be mute.
Roier grips his mug nearly hard enough to break, and he forces himself to put it down. He takes a deep breath, running himself through the techniques he teaches his clients to calm down.
“What if… I’m making a mistake?” Roier whispers, and he doesn’t want to meet his dad’s eyes. It’s hard enough to admit out loud, let alone have someone else acknowledge it.
“Kiddo, I know this is hard, but you love him, right?” Foolish says gently, and Roier makes himself look up.
Foolish is looking at him with so much care and concern that Roier thinks he might cry.
“Well, yes, but after Festa Junina and the thing with Quackity…,” Roier’s voice trembles then. He hates not being in control of his emotions, but something about being home strips away his ability to self-regulate.
Foolish winces at the memory, and Roier feels his eyes start to well up. He blinks rapidly to try to stop from crying, but a few tears slip past anyway.
“Am I just a toy, papá? Why did he treat me like that?” Roier asks, smudging his eyeliner when he goes to wipe at his eyes.
“No, no, of course you aren’t, Roier, you can’t think that,” Foolish immediately reassures him, and for some reason, Roier finds he can actually believe his dad.
Jaiden had pulled him aside not long after it all happened, and she told him he deserved better. It’s not that Roier didn’t believe her, but she’s always been so protective of him that he thinks she’s a bit blinded by it.
“I feel so…used; Lo amo, pero ¿me ama a mí?,” Roier mumbles, and Foolish reaches across the table to grab Roier’s hand.
“Kiddo, I need you to be honest with me about something,” Foolish replies, squeezing Roier’s hand for emphasis.
“Do you really love Cellbit or do you love the idea of him?” Foolish asks, and the question tilts Roier’s world on its axis.
He’s been so sure for weeks that he said yes, because they’re meant to be together. It makes sense. They rescued Cellbit from the clutches of the Federation and then Cellbit proposed, and it all falls perfectly into place – his storybook romance.
“I know, gross, ‘cause it’s your dads, but when I met your dad Vegetta – I couldn’t imagine ever being with someone else. No one makes me happy like him,” Foolish continues, and even now, Roier can see the love in Foolish’s eyes when he talks about his boyfriend.
“Dad, you’re so embarrassing,” Roier scoffs, but he knows he’s right. Roier was lucky enough to grow up with parents who love each other endlessly and without reservation.
They’ve had their petty squabbles over Vegetta being away too long or Foolish having no filter around a younger Roier, but Roier realizes he’s never seen them hurt each other like Cellbit hurt him.
“He manipulated me in front of everyone,” Roier whispers, a startling clarity washing over him. The whole thing was orchestrated solely to force him to declare affection for a man he already proved he loved.
His fiancé agreed to accept a fake proposal in front of all their friends and family, because he didn’t trust in Roier’s affection for him to prevail.
“Listen, Roier, I wasn’t going to say anything at first, because you’re all grown up now,” Foolish sighs, picking up his mug of cooling tea again.
“But you’re also my son, and I don’t like how Cellbit treated you,” Foolish takes a sip of tea, and Roier feels his heart clench at the admission.
“I trust you so much, mijo, but the man you love shouldn’t be playing mind games with you,” Foolish finishes, and Roier knows deep down he’s right.
Roier knew when he decided to come to his dads’ for advice in the middle of the night. He’s known since the festival that something about his relationship isn’t quite right.
He just guesses that it’s easier to push past the red flags and have his one big day. Roier has always dreamed of his wedding day – a boisterous affair with everyone he loves.
Roier realizes with a sinking feeling that the man across from him on his perfect day doesn’t have to be Cellbit.
“I think that maybe I just want to be happy, and I thought happiness could come from my wedding,” Roier traces the slogan on his mug, and he hates voicing the thought out loud.
“Your wedding is your happiest day of your life, right? I’d be fixed, then,” Roier laughs humorlessly.
“... This is about Bobby,” The realization dawns on Foolish slowly.
Roier pointedly stares at a drawing Leonarda did that one of his dads had hung up on the fridge, and Foolish sighs.
“Roier, that wasn’t your fault,” Foolish starts, but Roier cuts him off.
“Bobby está muerto, por mi culpa. Stop trying to protect my feelings.”
“So you’d blame me for Leo’s first death, then? Since I was there with her, and I failed to protect her,” Foolish challenges, and Roier startles at the words.
“Dad, what the fuck, no? I’d never do that,” Roier exclaims as he looks back at Foolish in alarm.
“That’s my point, kiddo, it was an accident – you can’t force yourself to carry the burden of Bobby’s death,” Foolish insists, and Roier deflates.
“Come here, I can’t stand you sitting there like a drowned rat,” Foolish tugs at Roier’s arm, with Roier making a disgruntled noise at the comparison.
When Roier makes his way around the table, Foolish pulls him into a hug. They’d always been a pretty affectionate family, but Roier’s not been around as often. He’s missed his dad’s hugs.
Foolish bends down and presses a kiss to Roier’s forehead, and Roier pushes at Foolish’s chest, even though he secretly appreciates the gesture.
“I’m not little anymore; you don’t have to treat me like Leo,” Roier protests.
“Wrong, you’ll always be my baby,” Foolish replies in a sing-song voice, and Roier smiles despite himself.
“Speaking of…” Foolish directs his attention to the shuffling noises on the stairs. Roier sees the red baseball cap pop up before the rest of his baby sister.
“Roier!” Leonarda cheers as she scrambles down the rest of the stairs. Roier swings her into his arms, and she nuzzles into his neck.
“Someone isn’t supposed to be awake right now,” Foolish puts on the faux-stern voice again, and Leonarda’s tail thumps against Roier’s side.
“I heard my big brother’s voice, Pa, I had to come see him,” Leonarda informs Foolish solemnly, and Roier feels lighter than he has in weeks.
“Why is he here?” Leonarda asks, bouncing out of Roier’s arms. She looks expectantly at Foolish, who has never left one of her questions unanswered.
“He just needed some grown-up advice, that’s all,” Foolish replies as Leonarda considers this answer.
“I’m good at helping, too! Can I help?” Leonarda jumps in place, and Roier feels himself get a little choked up at seeing how similar her mannerisms are to Bobby.
Leonarda is always too perceptive for an egg of her age, and she notices right away that Roier looks unhappy.
“¿Qué pasa? ¿Estás triste? ¿Por qué?,” Leonarda asks in the rapid-fire way only a toddler knows how to do.
Roier crouches down to Leonarda’s level and answers, “Extraño a tu sobrino. Me recuerdas a él.”
“Te quiero mucho,” Leonarda grabs onto Roier’s leg, and Roier realizes that maybe this is what he’s needed all along. His family.
“You know you’re always welcome here,” Foolish’s warm voice interrupts Roier’s train of thought.
“Even if that means not going through with your engagement,” Foolish says a bit quieter, out of Leonarda’s earshot.
“You are so loved, kiddo, just remember that, yeah? Marriage isn’t everything – I think your dad and I make that pretty obvious,” Foolish claps Roier on the shoulder, and Roier feels his resolve strengthen.
It’s going to fucking hurt, but he’s calling off the wedding. Maybe even the relationship. He needs time to himself, and he’s going to finally put himself first.
It’s the best thing he can do for Bobby’s memory.
Jaiden will be so proud of him.
He can’t wait to tell her.