Work Text:
Virgil's boyfriend enters the room, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly at the array of supplies scattered across the table.
"I wasn't aware nail painting required this much work," Deceit murmurs. Virgil's cheeks redden, but he nods, setting down the bottle of base coat polish he's been contemplating for the past half hour.
"Nail art does," Virgil says. "And I want to do nail art for you."
"I look forward to it," Deceit says, settling into the kitchen chair next to Virgil. Virgil can hear Disney in the living room, and Patton and Roman murmuring between each other, but all of his concentration is focused on Deceit's mismatched eyes and the glint of light off his iridescent scales.
"First, a peel off base coat," Virgil says, tugging Deceit's hand toward him. "May I?" He looks up for permission. Deceit nods once and Virgil carefully plucks the yellow glove off, setting it aside. A scattering of burnished scales run across Deceit's skin and Virgil bends his head, pressing a kiss to each in turn. He repeats it with Deceit's other hand, lavishing gentle attention on the pallid skin. When he looks up again, Deceit's face is on fire.
"Virgil, my stormy love, that was unbelievably gay," Deceit says. Virgil smirks.
"Fine by me," he says, and applies himself to painting the base coat on in soft, smooth strokes. Deceit peers at it in interest.
"So what does peel off mean?" He asks.
"Instead of having to use nail polish remover, you can pop them off," Virgil explains. "And because it's the mind palace, they won't just peel off unexpectedly, they only will when you actually want them to."
Deceit raises his eyebrows.
"How convenient," he says. Virgil laughs and nods.
"I'm sure plenty of people in the real world would agree with that," Virgil says. "They also dry super quick if you want them to. Which I do, so." He concentrates for a moment, grinning when he brushes his thumb across Deceit's nail and feels nothing but smoothness.
"How do you feel about pink nails?" Virgil asks, grabbing a bottle of shimmery pink nail polish. Deceit shrugs, so Virgil repeats the process, admiring the way the colors seemed to change when Deceit tilted his hand one way or another.
"All right, I'm kinda messy with this so I'm gonna use liquid latex as a barrier around your finger," Virgil says, pulling the bottle close. "I'm gonna do a gradient. Are pastels okay?"
"Anything you want to do is fine by me," Deceit answers. "Unless you want to dip my nails in trash. I do draw the line at that." Virgil scrunches his nose.
"I'm not Remus," he says. "No worries on that score."
He dabs on gold and lavender and periwinkle, working fast. Sure enough, pastel smudges line Deceit's nailbeds and Virgil blesses his forethought as he peels off the liquid latex. Deceit raises one hand, admiring the play of color.
"It reminds me of a sunrise," Deceit murmurs. "A very pastel one. Thank you, Virgil."
"We're not done yet," Virgil says. "You still need a holographic top coat, and then a glossy one, to lock it all in." Deceit widens his eyes in surprise, but obediently settles back down in his chair.
"Scattered, linear, or flaky?" Virgil asks, showing off the choices. Deceit arches one eyebrow.
"Virgil, I have no idea, you choose," Deceit says. Virgil blushes.
"Flaky it is, then," he says, and bends over his task, gently holding Deceit's hand in his. In the warmth of the kitchen, Deceit's skin is warm, too, and is delectably soft against his.
Finally, Deceit's nails are as done as they're going to be this time (although Virgil can't stop shooting looks at several sheets of nail vinyls he dragged out from under his bed).
"Thank you," Deceit says. "They're gorgeous, Virgil." He leans over and kisses the corner of Virgil's mouth. "I love them." Virgil stares into his mismatched eyes, swallowing hard.
"Here you go," Virgil says, belatedly remembering Deceit's gloves. Deceit looks at them for a moment, then takes them, tucking them into his belt.
"I'll put them back on later," he says, seeing Virgil's shocked stare. "Right now, I believe my nails are works of art that should be properly admired."
"Okay, now that was really gay," Virgil blurts. Deceit smirks.
"Of course it was," he says, and stands up. "Come on, let's show Roman. I want to see how jealous he can look before he runs off to his own nail polish collection."
Giggling, Virgil follows.
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