Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“amen.”

he gets up from his knees and climbs into bed. he takes off his cross chain, courtesy of the grandma’am, and sets it neatly on his nightstand, right on top of his bible. he’s tried sleeping with it once for protection against nightmares, but woke up gasping for air — a terrible experience he doesn’t wish to repeat.

every night, he meticulously follows the same routine: brush teeth, slip into pajamas, pray, read the bible for a while, cross necklace off, lights out. and every night, without fail, he prays for the same things: money –of course–, for the grandma’am to stop singing the anthem every morning like she did during the war, for him to find a nice christian girl he can marry someday –bonus points if she’s pretty–, and for tigris to quit her slavelike job at fabricia’s and start running her own business.

coriolanus closes his eyes with the peace to know that everything’s in god’s hands now, and therefore everything will be just fine.

right?

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the cross rests on the uniform shirt, ever vigilant, shielding him from sin. coriolanus notices he’s the only one wearing one, which somehow confirms his suspicion that he won’t marry any of the girls here. if he wants to have any luck, he’ll have to go to university and hope there are more christian girls there. the only downside is that the tuition fees are through the roof, and he’ll have to excel in everything in order to win the annual plinth prize.

“the only positive thing to come out of that family, I swear,” festus joked, garnering laughter from everyone including coriolanus himself.

the door opens and someone steps inside; someone coriolanus knows very well. he’s clueless as to why he seems to have frozen in his place when he sees him — maybe it’s because the long summer break is over and he hasn’t seen him in a while.

he greets professor demigloss with a smile and heads over to the back of the classroom, right where coriolanus sits.

“hey,” sejanus grins, pulling back the chair next to him.

“sup?” coriolanus manages a polite smile. it’s almost like something in him short-circuited as soon as sejanus entered the room. “you look a little, uh, different.”

“I do?” sejanus frowns. “huh. maybe it’s the beard. I decided to grow it out a little.”

“yeah, could be that.”

his eyes flicker to the golden cross dangling from coriolanus’s neck. “didn’t know you were a believer.”

“oh, this?” coriolanus looks down, as if suddenly remembering its existence. “yeah, kinda.”

“how can you be ‘kinda’ a believer? you either are or you aren’t.”

“it’s… complicated.”

he would never admit it out loud, and certainly not to the grandma’am, but he’s been struggling with faith since his mother died. he couldn’t understand why she died if god was as all-merciful and almighty as he’s been told all his life. tigris had tried to explain to him that god knows what he’s doing and that it’s all part of his grand masterplan — all of which further confused him. what could possibly be more important than his own mother? surely god knew how much he needed and missed her, how many nights he’s gone to sleep with her orange scarf, sobbing uncontrollably? was taking away his unborn sister also part of god’s plan? if it was, maybe god wasn’t as loving as he once thought.

coriolanus inwardly rolls his eyes at sejanus’s obscene display of body hair, which is yet another one of the countless differences between the capitol and the districts. a beauty standard for the latter is disparaged by the former — which further proves the grandma’am’s point: capitol citizens and district people should never mix. and it seems that the plinths want so desperately to be the exception to the rule.

he looks to the seat beside him where sejanus is sitting, unprompted, while he scribbles on his notebook. coriolanus instinctively clutches his cross and starts fidgeting with it, pretending to revise his notes as they wait for the class to start. over time, he’s developed a habit of running his thumbs on the engraving whenever he’s nervous or uncomfortable. on multiple occasions, feeling the comforting coldness of the metal on his skin has helped to keep sinful thoughts at bay.

his eyes focus on sejanus’s hand that’s gripping the pen. he notices the faint stubble on his knuckles, then they flicker up to his face for a split second too long. has he always looked this manly? coriolanus grips the cross tighter, forcing those thoughts away.

“right, well. let’s get started, shall we?” professor demigloss says, clapping his hands.

the sudden noise is all coriolanus needs to snap back to reality. he sits up straighter, chin up, shoulders back, and tries to focus on the class ahead.

“first of all, welcome back. I hope you had enough rest.”

“yeah, as if,” festus grumbles. “got any coffee, prof?”

professor demigloss chooses to ignore the comment. “without further ado, let’s talk about more pressing matters.”

“like what? the price of makeup powder?” sejanus chimes in, almost bored already. coriolanus rolls his eyes. there he goes again.

“I see you’ve come back with enough energy to make remarks. certainly wasn’t expecting that on the first day. but, since you all seem to be so witty, how about an assignment to restart with a smile?”

the collective groan makes coriolanus chuckle inwardly.

“way to go, plinth,” arachne huffs.

“yeah, thanks a lot, man,” festus adds.

sejanus scoffs. “look who’s talking.”

“it will be in pairs,” professor demigloss announces, earning another collective groan. “for next week.”

“you’re killin’ us, prof!”

“the more you complain, the more things I’ll add.” it’s surprising how quickly the room falls silent. “that’s better.”

coriolanus could feel his eyes on him as soon as professor demigloss said it would be done in pairs. he has other options he can choose from: festus, arachne –well, no, perhaps not her–, clemensia… but he knows no one would want to be paired with sejanus, so he supposes he should take one for the team. if he thinks of it like an act of charity, he figures it’ll be alright. that’s what a good christian would do anyway, right?

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“no, grandma’am, I have to go.”

“they’re living in sin, coriolanus. and if you step one foot inside, you’ll be doomed for all eternity.”

“highly doubt that,” he mumbles. the grandma’am just raises an eyebrow. “I just don’t think my eternal life is at risk just for going to the plinths’ for an assignment.”

“take the bible, at least.” she doesn’t wait for an answer, she just shoves the heavy book deep in his satchel. his shoulders wince in advance.

“fine. happy now?”

“no.”

tigris chimes in, taking his side, as always. “really, grandma’am, I think you might be overreacting a little. that kind of stress only raises your blood pressure, and we don’t want that, do we?” she gives her no time to reply. “here. let’s make you some tea, yeah?” while she guides her to the kitchen table, tigris looks back at him and mouths for him to leave.

coriolanus chuckles, nodding. “thank you,” he whispers, heading out.

as he walks down the corso, he laughs to himself at the grandma’am’s backwardness. the whole thing is ridiculous, it makes no sense whatsoever. she can be right about various things sometimes –and even give good advice–, but most of the time, she’s so stuck in her old ways.

the satchel strap starts digging into his shoulder, so he quickly hangs it on the other shoulder. he should have taken out the bible while tigris was distracting her. oh, well. too late now. as he switches shoulders again, he wonders if they couldn’t have invented a lighter bible using all the new technology available nowadays.

he arrives at the plinths’ doorstep fifteen minutes earlier than agreed. not wanting to seem too eager –because he’s not–, he sits on the steps and lets five minutes pass before ringing the doorbell. he rises to his feet, awkwardly, waiting for the door to open. footsteps shuffle behind it, and he can hear the key turning.

the door swings open and coriolanus instinctively stands straight. since the plinths are so wealthy, he expected to be opened by a maid, but he’s surprised to see sejanus himself standing in the doorframe.

“hey. come on in,” sejanus greets him with a smile. “can I?” he gestures to his academy-issued satchel and motions him to hand it over.

“oh. okay.”

he lets out a huff as he swings it over one of his broad shoulders. “damnit, whatcha got here? a bible?” he chuckles.

“yeah, actually.”

“right,” he chortles, heading upstairs.

“no, I’m serious.”

“okay… and, uh… why would you have one with you?”

coriolanus shrugs, making a joke out of it. “who knows when the scriptures might come in handy.”

“for a believer, you’ve got a sense of humor.”

he frowns, following him up the stairs. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh, just that… you know, you people don’t like it when we joke about it.”

“you people”? it’s the first time coriolanus feels he’s being thrown into the same bag with other people he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t like it one bit. he realizes, to his horror, that’s what he’s been doing with district people all his life: generalize what they are and what they aren’t, what they like and what they don’t…

“good thing I’m not like other people, then, huh?”

“it’s definitely a relief,” sejanus winks. they soon reach his bedroom, and he pushes the door open. “after you.”

coriolanus giggles softly, nodding, and steps inside. oh, wow. this room is bigger than mine. he gulps down his awe to show nothing much really impresses a snow. instinctively, his hand finds his cross chain as he watches sejanus setting his things on his bed. coriolanus’s eyes linger over it for a little too long, and he imagines how sleeping there would feel like. he hasn’t had a mattress change since… well, never. maybe that’s the reason behind sejanus’s energy early in the morning: a nice warm bed, a comfortable mattress, silk sheets and a thick blanket. coriolanus vaguely wonders if he’d let him take a nap… no. you need to focus.

“where do you want to work?”

“what?” he hums, quickly snapping out of his trance. “oh, uh…”

“I mean… there’s the obvious place, the desk, but I thought maybe you’d want to be more comfortable? I saw you eyeing the bed just now. are you tired?”

“what? no, I… I’m not tired.”

“you’re not? huh,” sejanus chuckles. “what’s your pick, then?”

“I, uh… don’t know. it’s your house.”

“well yes, but you’re my guest.”

“then I guess my choice is wherever I burden you less,” coriolanus shrugs.

sejanus frowns. “don’t say that. you’re not a burden to me. you never were.”

coriolanus gulps nervously, nodding. “oh. huh. good to know that, then.”

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sejanus has invited him over so that they could try and get ahead of some projects due next week. the grandma’am already expressed her opinions on the matter and her complete and utter disapproval of it. coriolanus shrugged it off by saying that he needed to hand in as many projects as he could in order to be more eligible for the annual plinth prize, which seemed to have worked.

“there’s so many assignments we have to do, so I probably won’t be back until tomorrow.” he then turns to tigris. “I’ll let you know.”

“did you have to do it with him?” the grandma’am asks, not even hiding her disgust.

“we were paired randomly,” he lies.

with that, he grabs his bag of spare clothes –just in case he has to spend the night– and heads out. knowing the grandma’am, she definitely sneaked a bible inside it; god forbid he doesn’t do his nightly scripture reading.

coriolanus is about to walk down the road when he receives a message from him.

sejanus plinth
dw, I got ya. figured you’d be carrying a heavy bag ;) hop in!

he frowns in confusion. as if on cue, a car stops right in front of his house. oh. might as well get in, then. he feels weirdly thankful for not having to carry his bag all the way to sejanus’s house. coriolanus opens the car door and the avox driver starts up the engine, then drives off.

coriolanus thanks the driver. he knows he can’t answer, but he was raised to be polite with everyone. just as soon as he’s stepping out of the car, bag hanging from his shoulder, the front door opens. he has to admit he’s rather impressed.

“hey,” sejanus greets him. “all good?”

“yeah. thanks for the ride.”

“aw, of course,” he nods and steps aside. “come on in, we’ve got a lot to do.”

coriolanus blinks, appalled, at sejanus’s choice of clothing: a see-through shirt, shorts bordering on being too indecent… how isn’t he cold? coriolanus pulls up his turtleneck sweater and pats the cross dangling from his neck. god help me get through this. he forces a smile as he’s guided upstairs.

“I think ma made snacks. want some?”

his stomach growls in response. with all that happened with the grandma’am before he headed out, he just forgot to grab something to eat. “oh. okay, yeah.”

sejanus grins. “great! make yourself at home. be right back.”

“alright,” coriolanus nods, watching as he heads out.

he sets his bag on the bed and zips it open before rummaging through his neatly folded shirts. his fingers soon bump into the hard cover, and he easily takes the bible out and sets it on his lap. hanging his head down, he mumbles, “oh, lord almighty, please give me the strength I need to get this over with. shield me from sin and the claws of the enemy. I ask you all in the name of our lord and savior, jesus christ, amen.” he crosses himself and presses the cross to his lips.

the sound of muffled footsteps approaching the room make him set the bible aside. sejanus pushes the door open and steps inside.

“I come bearing gifts,” he says, grinning.

coriolanus claps his hands. “oh, sweet.”

“c’mon, let’s eat,” sejanus hums, setting the tray down on the floor. coriolanus gets up from the bed and slowly kneels on the wooden floor, unsure of what might happen next. sejanus frowns, confused. “aren’t you gonna eat?”

“yeah. it’s just that, uh… you don’t, um, say grace?”

“not really, no,” he shakes his head. “do you want to, though?”

“I mean… if you don’t mind?”

“of course I don’t. I told you to make yourself at home, so go ahead.”

“thank you.”

coriolanus starts mumbling about the privilege of food and shelter, and more things sejanus decides to tune out of. the only exciting part of all this is holding hands and seeing how he looks like when his eyes are closed. apart from that, sejanus doesn’t get the appeal. coriolanus finishes rather quickly and opens his eyes again. their hands are still joined and he makes no move to break the contact — he seems rooted to his spot.

“oops, sorry.”

he sighs at the loss of contact and desperately claws at his cross to check if it’s still there. the warm, stirring feeling in his stomach, whatever that was, isn’t on god’s path; he needs to make peace with him before things take a turn for the worst and spiral out of his own control.

and if he needs to stay up late, praying, then so be it.

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the alarm goes off much too soon for coriolanus’s liking. he groans and makes his way over to the bathroom, eyes barely open. rubbing the sleep off his eyes, he reaches out to his toothbrush.

there’s a knock on the door and tigris’s voice comes from behind it. “coryo, are you awake? hurry up, we’re gonna be late!”

“I’m up, I’m up,” he mumbles, somehow managing to throw on clothes.

coriolanus splashes his face with water and towels off. normally, he’d take a quick shower in the mornings to start the day feeling fresh. but now he’s got no time to lose: he needs to wake up fast. dark circles adorn his eyes, proof of how little he slept last night. he reaches up to grab tigris’s concealer and, knowing how the grandma’am feels about makeup on men, dabs what he deems to be a reasonable amount under his eyes. surprisingly, it covers them just enough. he only hopes tigris doesn’t notice, and that she doesn’t mention it if she finds out.

the only outfit that still fits him and that’s decent enough, besides the academy uniform, is the one he used at the start-of-the-year gala: his father’s old mess dress shirt –which tigris skilfully managed to make wearable again by adding tesserae buttons–, the only pair of pants that survived the war –the rest had to be sacrificed in the fire–, and shoes that barely fit. he wonders if pluribus has some to spare. fortunately for him, no one from the academy goes to church, so he doesn’t have to explain why he’s wearing the same outfit.

he styles his signature curls, brushing them until he deems them acceptable enough. sighing, he steps out of the bathroom. he pockets the most decent sunglasses he owns and heads downstairs. he shouldn’t have stayed up all night praying, no matter how often the sunday preachers said it helped.

“all set?” tigris asks with a smile.

before he can answer, the grandma’am chimes in with the usual question. “got the bible?”

“shit, no.” he was hoping she wouldn’t ask — that way, he could go out without having to carry it at least once in his life.

“language!”

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someone gently nudges his elbow, which startles coriolanus awake. upon gaining consciousness, he admonishes himself for having drifted off during mass, an unprecedented event until now, and sits up straight. he hopes he didn’t miss much.

“you kinda dozed off. you’re lucky grandma’am didn’t see you,” tigris whispers.

“won’t happen again, I promise.”

“alright,” she nods and turns back to the preacher without making such a big deal out of it. coriolanus appreciates tigris’s openness and flexibility towards all the things that his grandmother could never be, which makes her the perfect confidant.

Chapter Text

sejanus sees him kneeling by the bed, forehead resting on his clenched hands. he knows he shouldn’t find that as appealing as he does, but he can’t deny there’s something enticing about witnessing something so private and intimate — he’s glad he got the chance to be part of it, at least just once.

although he wasn’t raised with any religion in particular, he does remember being about five years old, still in district two, and asking ma why she was sprinkling breadcrumbs at a funeral.

“well, dear,” she said with her usual sweet and loving tone as she ruffled his hair. “it’s our way of ensuring a safe passage to the other side.”

other than that specific belief or tradition, he never had much contact with religion or spirituality. he believes there can be good in the world, and even strong moral and ethical codes, without having to involve an invisible and intangible god.

coriolanus stands up and sets his cross chain on the makeshift nightstand beside him before climbing into bed. he reaches out to his bible and opens it carefully, sitting back against the wall. sejanus looks over at him and how he focuses on the book in his hands. he notices coriolanus’s pajama shirt fully buttoned up, and the sheets pulled up so that it covers the most of him. sejanus chuckles a little to himself. he knows it’s a little chilly outside, but did he need to bring a winter pajama set?

“I’m gonna get ready for bed. need anything?”

“nope.”

“alright then. if you do, feel right at home.”

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sejanus feels his eyes lingering over him. it’s only for a split second, but he can tell when someone is staring at him. he shoots him a quizzical look and lets out a soft chuckle, but coriolanus quickly averts his eyes as if trying to evade a question that hasn’t been made yet but dreading it already. sejanus notices him clutching his cross and fidgeting with it.

“since when do you have that?” he asks, trying to sound as respectful as possible.

“it was my mother’s. she gave it to me for my first communion. she told me it would protect me from bad things happening to me. she died soon after, so I guess it didn’t work much.” coriolanus’s eyes dart left and right as if afraid someone heard him. “sorry,” he apologizes to no one in particular. at least not to sejanus or anyone in this plane of existence.

“oh, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” he shrugs. “I’m over it.”

sejanus frowns, not entirely convinced that’s really the case. “alright,” he nods.

“yeah.” coriolanus doesn’t stop fiddling with his cross, then suddenly changes the topic completely. “should we get working?”

sejanus notices he’s uncomfortable, so he decides not to pressure him further. “oh. uh… yeah. why not? the sooner, the better.”

“great. let’s get to it.”

the next couple of hours are framed by a silence bordering on uncomfortable — not hostile, but not friendly either. it’s the kind of silence that presses down his chest, making sejanus wonder if he did something wrong. at the risk of seeming annoying, he mumbles an apology. the answer he gets is a short twitch of the shoulders and a shake of the head, as if trying to brush it off.

“why? no, don’t be. it’s okay.”

“really?”

“yeah, really,” coriolanus nods. “you’re fine.”

sejanus doesn’t respond, he just nods in agreement as they stare blankly at the empty document in front of them. coriolanus’s fidgeting continues, and it’s starting to get on sejanus’s nerves. he manages to hold back the impulse of snapping at him.

coriolanus finally speaks up. “well… it won’t write itself.”

“right.”

the amount of time they spend working on professor demigloss’s assignment blurs in sejanus’s mind, but it’s probably because he’s not really focusing on it as much as he should be: there’s something –or, rather, someone– that’s distracting him. it’s not his fault, really.

he looks over to the boy next to him, but soon realizes he’s staring, so he quickly looks away, not wanting to seem like a creep. he shakes his head and tries to concentrate on their assignment. this will be a long day.

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his fingers brush against coriolanus’s as he hands him a plate. it didn’t last more than a second, but the feeling of skin against skin, however fleeting, lingered in the air. sejanus blinks once, twice, before sitting down on the chair beside him. their knees bump against each other, touching ever so slightly, and sejanus has to hold back the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“strabo’s still working upstairs in his studio,” ma announces. “he told me he wouldn’t mind if we started without him. eat up, then.”

sejanus nods. “oh, okay. thanks, ma.” he frowns as he sees coriolanus hasn’t touched his food yet. “something wrong?” there it is: the fidgeting again. he suddenly remembers what he did a few days ago, and realizes what is wrong. “oh. you, uh… wanna say grace?” he looks over at ma, who just nods almost imperceptibly. “it’s okay, you can. if you want.”

“yeah?” coriolanus frowns, eyes darting from sejanus to ma, then back to him. “I don’t wanna impose myself…”

“oh, you won’t, dear,” ma reassures him. “if it gives you peace, you should do it.” she holds out her hands. “yeah?”

coriolanus nods. “okay.” they hold hands and he bows his head, which they imitate.

sejanus knows the words already, so he doesn’t pay much attention to them. instead, it seems his whole body is focused on their joined hands. even though it’s the second time they’ve done this, it feels like the first. he never thought a religious ritual could be this intimate, but then again, he never thought holding hands could be a small, personal gesture. perhaps it depends on who it’s done with.

“amen,” coriolanus concludes, withdrawing his hands. he looks back up at them and smiles. “thanks for letting me do this.”

“aw, of course, dear,” ma grins.

even though he has already pulled away, his touch still lingers on sejanus’s palm, and he has to blink a few times to snap back out of his thoughts. focus! he grabs his fork and dives it in his salad, trying to forget the tingling feeling on his hand.

“can you, uh… pass me the water, sej?”

ma smiles, glad her son finally found someone he can call a friend. it has all been so lonely since they arrived in the capitol, and especially for little sejanus. he was so set on making new friends…

sejanus’s eyes widen. he hasn’t called him that before. “oh. sure,” he nods. he leans over the table and reaches out to the bottle. his loose top rides up just a little, exposing a few hairs below his navel. he sits back down and hands him the bottle. “here you go.” as coriolanus takes it, their fingers brush again, and sejanus catches a faint pink hue adorning his cheeks.

“thank you,” coriolanus mumbles. “I got it now.”

“oh. yeah. okay.”

stupid! what were you expecting? to pour it in his glass for him? dear god.

sighing through his nose, sejanus sits back. awkwardly, he gets a forkful of salad in his mouth. coriolanus sets the bottle back in the center of the table and takes a quick sip of his glass.

dinner passes by with little to no interaction other than forks clanking against plates and the occasional “can you pass me the…?”. once finished, sejanus sits back and waits for coriolanus to finish his plate so that they can continue working. it’s not like he’s in a hurry or anything — he’d stretch this moment forever if he could.

maybe, just maybe, he can convince him to spend one more night here. with him. he doesn’t know what excuse he’ll give — they have no more assignments to do other than the one they’ve met up to do. he figures that if they take long enough to finish it, he could argue it’ll be too late for him to walk back home, all alone, and that he should stay the night. he knows he could just make him get into one of their avox-driven cars, like the one he used to get here, but that wouldn’t be as fun. he could then say it’s for his own good. after all, they’re best friends. and surely there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend as much possible time with your best friend, even if you see them at school every other day.

or perhaps he should stop overthinking things and just ask him directly if he wants to spend another night with him.

coriolanus finishes his plate with a happy sigh. “everything was just superb, mrs plinth,” he smiles.

“please,” ma giggles. “call me ‘ma’.”

“ma,” he corrects himself. “anyway, I think I should get going. it’s getting pretty late and I don’t want to miss the last trolley home.”

sejanus’s heart drops. he’s leaving? already? he tries not to sound too disappointed when he says, “but the assignment…? I was thinking maybe we could finish it up now, right after dinner, and have it ready for next week. not leaving it for later.”

coriolanus seems to take his time to answer, thinking it over, weighing the pros and cons of the suggestion. shrugging, he nods. “fine. but let’s make it quick.”

“fine by me.”

“hope you don’t mind, ma.”

“oh, no. you boys go do what you have to, I’ll clean up everything.”

sejanus grins, getting up. “you’re the best.”

“yeah, yeah,” she chuckles, playfully waving her hand dismissively. “flattery will get you nowhere.”

“it’s not flattery if it’s true,” he retorts, winking.

she giggles a little, cheeks flushed. “go. go before I change my mind.”

he kisses her cheek and heads upstairs. “doubt that!” he calls.

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sejanus is sitting on his bed, leafing through the printed pages, checking that nothing’s missing, when he feels a weight on his shoulder. he sees coriolanus’s head resting on it, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. it would be cruel to wake him up when he looks so peaceful… not to mention it’s the perfect opportunity to sneak in one more night. he should let tigris know, just to be on the safe side. he reaches for coriolanus’s phone, careful not to wake him, and scrolls until he finds her contact.

coriolanus snow
hey tigris. sejanus here. coryo’s fallen asleep and I really don’t wanna wake him. is it okay with you if he stays here one more night? 😊

it’s surprising how fast she replies.

tigris
oh hi there! no problem at all! he needs all the sleep he can get. thank you for being such a good friend to him 😙 don’t think he has an extra set of clothes tho… hope that’s not a problem haha! thanks again ♥️

the word ‘friend’ feels like a stab in his chest, but he gulps down his own conflicted feelings.

coriolanus snow
dw, I think I can find a solution for that 🤭

sejanus sets the phone back on his nightstand. carefully, he gets out of bed and lies coriolanus down, tucking him in. as he’s heading to the bed he has used since he got here, sejanus hears him mumbling something he can’t quite understand. but he does catch the last word.

“stay.”

and then he does what he knows he shouldn’t. sejanus sits back on his bed and lets coriolanus rest his head on his chest. draping the sheets over them, he turns off his lamp. they barely fit, but all he can think about is how much he’ll miss this tomorrow.

Chapter Text

coriolanus awakens with a start, mouth dry, and he tries to make sense of whatever it is he just dreamed about. it was frightening to him, though not for the reasons he’d expect. the dream is blurry and he doesn’t remember much of it, but he does recall sejanus being there for some reason he can’t quite put a finger on.

sighing, coriolanus buries his face under the sheets in an attempt to get some precious minutes of sleep before the alarm goes off. he tries to stir until he’s on his shoulder, hoping that’d help him fall asleep sooner, but the feeling of his pajama pants being more snug around his waist stops him. no matter how much he tosses and turns, he can’t make that feeling go away.

he kicks the sheets off, groaning, and figures that maybe he’s just hot. still his eyes remain wide open, and he can’t seem to get rid of that awkward feeling.

might as well get up now. won’t be able to sleep a wink if I keep this up.

he sits up on his bed and sets his feet on the floor. he rubs his face, trying to wake up, then lets his head hang down. slowly, his eyes flutter open and he’s met with a terrifying sight.

holy mother of christ! what in god’s green earth is this?

something seems to be protruding under his pajama bottoms, and he’s not quite sure what that is. he’s never seen such a thing, but he knows its origin is the very depths of hell. he quickly reaches up to his neck, where his cross always rests, only to find it’s not there.

this can only be satan’s doing, and the only thing that can make him go away is prayer. he should try to be free from his grasp before going downstairs for breakfast. he kneels on his bed and tilts his head back, holding the bible right over the satanic protuberance.

♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱

coriolanus sits at his desk, focused on his notes, as he absentmindedly fidgets with his cross chain. from the corner of his eye, he sees sejanus walking over, headed directly to the empty seat beside him. his body tenses for reasons still unknown, and he shifts in his chair. his fingers tighten around the cross, as if that could anchor him to reality. clearing his throat, coriolanus speaks up.

“got the assignment?”

“all good. printed, stapled, ready to hand in.”

“great.”

“wanna do the honors?” sejanus asks, already handing him the printed sheets.

their fingers brush against each other, which sends a pleasant tingle up coriolanus’s arm. “yeah, thanks.”

all they have to do now is wait until professor demigloss, who seems to be taking forever, gets to the row they’re in so that coriolanus can hand in the assignment. he’s always liked handing in works –exams, tests, homework, you name it– because it gives him a sense of accomplishment and self-fulfilment.

his eyes flicker towards the boy sitting next to him for a split second too long. stop, he commands himself. he shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. seeing professor demigloss finally reaching his desk, coriolanus gladly hands him the stapled assignment, which earns him the praising comment he’s always been given.

“very neat, as per usual.”

“only doing our best,” he says, gesturing towards sejanus.

professor demigloss walks away, chuckling, as he continues receiving assignments from the rest of the class. coriolanus shifts in his seat until he’s facing forward, but his eyes drift to sejanus. again.

♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱

dear god, give me strength to get through this rough time, free me from all sin, amen.

he presses the metal cross to his lips, its coldness grounding him. the plinths’ household is only a few blocks down the corso; it takes him less than fifteen minutes to get there. he’s never in a hurry when it comes to that house — it’s almost as if he wants to avoid staying for longer than the absolute necessary. sighing through his nose, coriolanus rings the doorbell.

here we go again.

before he can straighten his shirt, the door opens, revealing sejanus’s tall frame. coriolanus gulps, scrambling to make himself look more decent and presentable.

“hey,” sejanus grins. “come on in.” he steps aside to let him in.

“thanks,” coriolanus hums as he walks inside.

sejanus closes the door behind him and gestures to the stairs. “you already know the way. make yourself at home.”

fat chance.

still, coriolanus nods. “alright, bet.” he hates how he makes his way into sejanus’s house as if it were his own, as if he knew it like the back of his hand, even though he’s been here only once before.

“ma made us some buns.”

he tries not to sound too eager. “yeah?”

“they’re in my room. straight outta the oven, so it’s best if we eat ‘em while they’re still warm.”

“oh, great,” he nods again, smiling. unexpectedly, sejanus grabs his wrist and tugs him along, taking him to the stairs. “wha—?”

sejanus refuses to give any explanation, he just giggles and rushes upstairs with him. coriolanus decides to let him do that — not because he has any say in the matter, but because sejanus is much stronger than him and can easily tug him along. the warm feeling of his hand sends pleasant waves up coriolanus’s arm; waves he doesn’t know why they make him feel this giddy. he shakes his head in an attempt to clear it.

sejanus looks back at him with a playful glint in his eyes, urging him on. “come on.”

nodding, coriolanus follows him upstairs, letting him go a few steps ahead to keep a respectful and prudent distance between them. they soon get to sejanus’s bedroom, and coriolanus stares at it in awe as if it were his first time. his eyes scan across the room: the walls, the desk and the bed, upon which there is a tray full of homemade buns. he bites the inside of his cheek in the hopes of quieting his growling stomach.

as if on cue, sejanus says, “go on, take one.”

“no, I—”

he just looks at him sternly, though with a hint of worry. “did I stutter? go on. they’re there for a reason, and that’s for us to eat.”

“well, there’s that,” coriolanus chuckles, giving in. he sits on the edge of the bed, as if not wanting to become too involved.

sejanus pulls up his revolving chair and scoots over much too close, knees almost brushing against each other. coriolanus bites down on one bun and gulps it down much too quickly, then sets his satchel on the bed, breathing too hard and too loud.

“hey, hey, hey,” sejanus hums soothingly, resting a hand on his knee, grounding him, unsolicited but not unwelcomed. “why so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” coriolanus lies.

“right.” the tone makes it clear that sejanus doesn’t buy it at all. his hand stays there, a pleasant warmth radiating from his palm and onto his knee.

coriolanus makes no move to break the contact, and it seems sejanus won’t be letting go any time soon. coriolanus’s hand clasps the cross dangling from his neck in a desperate attempt to make that strange feeling go away. he doesn’t know what it is, but he does know that it comes from the very depths of hell — a cunning plan from the devil himself to tempt him and lure him away from god’s intended path. but coriolanus snow never falters.

sejanus seems oblivious to his inner tribulations; in fact, he looks rather amused, which is even stranger. coriolanus’s eyes flicker down to his knee, where sejanus’s hand appears to have been attached to. the grip on his cross chain tightens, and the embossed figure of christ digs into his palm — hard enough to ground him but not enough to be painful.

trying not to think too much about it, he reaches out to the tray and grabs another bun. it’s less warm now, but it still smells fresh. his stomach grumbles again, so he quickly gulps it down.

“someone’s hungry,” sejanus comments, not meaning to imply anything other than a simple observation.

“yeah, I… forgot to eat before coming here.” that’s a lie, of course, but sejanus doesn’t need to know that.

“oh,” sejanus just says, nodding. “be my guest, then. have as many as you want. I can always ask ma for more, I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱

sejanus sees coriolanus nibbling his finger distractedly as he finishes every last crumb on the tray. he knows he shouldn’t find it appealing, but his body betrays him. his palms feel clammy and sweaty, as does he, and he can’t seem to focus on anything else but on how pretty coriolanus is: hair combed back, shirt fully buttoned up.

over time and with careful observation, sejanus has come to notice coriolanus’s different habits. the first one he noticed was the fidgeting with his cross chain, and the second one is this one: the finger-nibbling.

he remembers how warm he felt when his hand rested on his knee, and how neither moved until sejanus really needed to. an ache in his chest, mixed with want and longing, stirs and coils every time their eyes meet. he shifts in his seat, feeling his pants a little tighter than usual, and he already knows what it is. he just hopes coriolanus doesn’t notice. he shifts again, uncomfortably, and tries to think about something else, anything that can get his mind off the awkwardness of it all.

“I, uh… I have to go to the bathroom. uh… won’t be long. be right back,” he mutters, voice laced with urgency, hoping that’s enough.

coriolanus frowns, confused, and nods. “oh. alright.” sejanus stands up, not without difficulty, and heads over to the bathroom. coriolanus sees, however briefly, that he’s dealing with the same problem as the one he woke up to this morning. “no, wait. I think… I know what to do.”

sejanus raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that, but not turning the offer down either. “oh, do you? didn’t know you knew that. could’ve at least invited me out to dinner first, though. not that I’m complaining.”

coriolanus tilts his head to the side in confusion, similar to what a dog does when paying attention. “what?”

“nothing,” sejanus chuckles. “what is it that you have in mind?” he hums, every nerve in his body twitching in eager anticipation. he wasn’t expecting it to happen, at least not this soon. sometimes life has a plan of its own, and who is he to ignore it?

he frowns when he sees coriolanus taking out his bible from his satchel. weird, but okay. whatever gets him through the night, I guess… coriolanus gets to his knees, and sejanus can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. he rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“are you sure about this…? you really don’t have to, coryo, I can take care of it myself,” he says soothingly. but the serious response catches him off-guard.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“alright, sir,” he chuckles. “then go ahead.”

coriolanus holds the bible over the bulge in sejanus’s pants and starts speaking in tongues, then switches back to english. “begone, satan! out!”

sejanus frowns again, not because he’s angry, but because he’s confused. he has to hold back a laugh whenever coriolanus mentions the devil.

“leave this mortal be! he is not yours for the taking!” coriolanus’s eyes are squeezed shut, and his expression is serious, fully convinced.

“what… what are you doing?”

he cracks one eye open. “exorcizing you,” he simply says, as if that’s all the explanation needed. “you’ve been possessed,” he adds, impassive. “don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

sejanus chuckles a little and shakes his head. “I haven’t been possessed.”

“yes, you have! and if you don’t let me do this, you’ll be doomed for all eternity!” coriolanus counters. “I know the devil’s work when I see it.”

“but it’s not working, coryo. in fact, it’s getting harder. maybe you should try some other way…?”

he sighs in exasperation. “there’s no other way.”

“oh, I can assure you there is.”

♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱♱

the memory seems to be engraved at the back of his mind, and it’s not getting out of there soon. every time he closes his eyes, he sees coriolanus kneeling in front of him. although the whole context was rather funny at times, sejanus can’t deny there was something… enticing and appealing about it all.

he’s also aware of the fact that he won’t be able to think about anything else except about the sight of coriolanus on his knees as he tried to exorcize his boner — which only made everything worse: the longer he stayed like that, the harder sejanus became, and the cycle went on and on until coriolanus –out of exhaustion or shame or both– decided to go back home, leaving sejanus to deal with his problem on his own.

he knows it’s morally reproachable, questionable at best, but he can’t help wondering if he’ll ever get the chance to see coriolanus like that again: so lost, so devoted, so… selfless, in a way, and so clueless as to how to properly treat a boner. sejanus finds it endearing yet worrying: did he really have no idea what that was? he might have to teach him if that’s the case. maybe coriolanus was just trying to make the awkwardness more bearable, which means he’s been reeling unnecessarily ever since he left.

whatever all that was about, it definitely didn’t help with the awkwardness of the situation, and certainly not with the growing tent in his pants that refused to cooperate.

sejanus tosses and turns, trying to forget how easily coriolanus dropped to his knees, as if it were something natural for him, but ending up remembering every single detail of the day. sejanus also remembers how he foolishly thought it would lead to something else.

none of that matters now: he’s got plenty of material for his own benefit.

he closes his eyes and snuggles up under the warm, cozy sheets, welcoming every image of coriolanus that his brain conjures up. as sleep embraces him, sejanus vaguely hopes things won’t be too embarrassing tomorrow.