Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam lay in his bed, looking at the alarm clock on his nightstand. The sheets were bunched up at his feet from tossing and turning. For the third time this week, his brain refused to shut off. The fact that it was only Wednesday, didn't help either.

Sam had dealt with this since his childhood. His mom would routinely put him to bed at the same time, she made sure his room was cold and dark, and did all the other stuff that doctors suggested. But still, when his mom left the room he'd stare at the ceiling, and occupy himself with whatever his brain deemed more important that night.

When he was six years old, and after years of struggling, they'd finally prescribed him medication. Which worked for the most part, until he grew up and even the highest dosage wouldn't do it's job anymore.

Now, as an adult, he'd pretty much "grown out" of it. Sure, some nights were worse than others. But lying awake three nights in a row, like Sam had this week, hadn't been the case for at least a good three years.

It was almost one, and Sam didn't feel like torturing himself until his eyes finally gave out. Which could take anywhere from one to four hours, depending on something. What that something was, though, he didn't know. Sam grabbed his phone from the nightstand and texted Sebastian.

Sam
Can I come over?

Sebastian was probably up as well. But, in comparison to Sam, by choice. He always claimed that he worked better at night and "didn't need much sleep". Whatever that meant.

Sam's phone buzzed.

Sebastian
I'm working on something.

Sam
Please? I won't bother you

Sebastian
Fine.

Reading Sebastian's tone through text had always been hard. But after years of friendship, Sam knew that if he really wanted to be left alone, he just wouldn't bother answering at all.

Sam pulled his jacket closer to his chest as he made his way towards the mountains. It was slowly getting warmer, as the end of winter approached in Pelican Town, but nights would still hit below the freezing point. Sam could barely feel his hands as he stood in front of the door, typing out a message.

Sam
I'm here

A while later, the door opened and Sebastian ushered him inside. "Go on, I'll be down in a second," he said quietly. Sam took off his boots and jacket, and made his way down the stairs.

Sebastian's bedroom was always chilly and dark. He never turned on the big lights. It made him feel uncomfortable. Like he was being put on display. The only two light sources he'd accept, were his computer, and a small lamp that stood on his desk.

Sebastian's laptop stood open on the bed, where he'd abandoned it to open the door. Sam, curious about what he had been working on, decided to take a look. The screen lit up, and he was met with an email.

Dear,

Thank you for your interest in the Junior Web Developer position at our company.

We are sorry to inform you that after careful consideration we decided to move forward with another candidate.

However, recently another position opened at our company. You would be filling in for our Database Administrator, for a duration of six months.

Please contact us by the end of this week, if you're interested in this position. More details can be discussed then. We sincerely apologize for the late notice, and hope to hear from you soon.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. Recently Sebastian started to bring up the idea of him moving away again. It was a common recurrence. He would mention it every couple of months, and then the idea it would die out. Sebastian would show him different companies that were hiring, but he'd never actually applied to anything before.

"Here." Sebastian threw a blanket towards the bed. He closed the door behind him and grabbed the hoodie thrown over the chair at his desk.

"Is this from that place you told me about?" asked Sam.

"Hm?" Sebastian glanced his way. "Oh, yeah," he mumbled while pulling the hoodie over his head.

"I didn't know you applied."

Sebastian climbed onto the bed and sat with his back against the wall. "Well, I didn't get it. So it doesn't really matter," he said.

Sam wrapped the blanket around himself and moved back to sit next to him. The scent of laundry detergent surrounded him. Whenever Sam came over, Sebastian would always offer him the exact same, dark blue, blanket. He would go out of his way to get it, even if that meant grabbing it out of the dryer, like he had to today. Sam couldn't remember when the first time was that he'd slept under it, but it gave him a sense of comfort and familiarity.

"What about the offer?" asked Sam.

Sebastian sighed. "I don't know, it's stupid. If I'm leaving, I'm leaving you know? I don't want to have to come back in six months and see everyone again." He took the laptop and put it in his lap.

Sam waited a moment before speaking. "Why are you suddenly so hung up on this again?" he asked carefully.

A couple of weeks ago, Sebastian turned 23, and his stepdad and mom thought that it was the perfect opportunity to grill him about his plans for the future. The thought had stuck with him ever since. He didn't really know what he wanted. Whenever the question was brought up, he always spoke about moving to the city. He wasn't happy here, that's something Sebastian knew for sure. But what if moving there didn't make him any happier? What if it ruined a perfectly good fantasy?

Sebastian's lack of answer caused Sam to look over. He was lost in thought, just mindlessly scrolling through his emails. The way he chewed on his lip, made it clear that something was bothering him. But Sam knew better than to push for an answer. Instead, he settled on resting his head on Sebastian's shoulder.

The sudden weight on Sebastian's shoulder, made him stop scrolling. Sam had always been a very physical person, unlike him. It used to annoy him when they were kids. But now, it brought up and entirely different set of feelings. Ones that he convinced himself were long gone. But all it took was for Sam to look at him in just the right way, or touch him, and they all came flooding back. Sebastian would never initiate any contact himself, but he allowed himself small moments like these, where Sam would rest his head on him or cuddle up to him. It was the closest he could get to actually having him.

"I think you should do it. It could be a great opportunity," offered Sam, a moment later.

Sebastian didn't answer that either. Sam didn't mind. He just wrapped his arms around Sebastian's arm, making himself comfortable and earning a look from Sebastian in the process. Nights like this were his favorite. They were both having a shitty evening, but having a shitty evening together made him feel a bit lighter.

"Can I stay here?" asked Sam with his face buried into Sebastian's arm.

"Yeah… but I'd like my arm back," said Sebastian. "I was kind of in the middle of something here."

Sam whined. "But I'm so comfy… please Seb?" He wasn't actually asking. Once he brought out Sebastian's nickname, the chances of him not getting his was dropped dramatically.

Sebastian sighed, accepting defeat. He closed his laptop and put it to the side. Sebastian was likely the only person who noticed the subtle changes in Sam's behavior. He spoke slower than usual. Sure, his version of slow was still faster than the average person's, but it was slow for Sam. And his eyes were fixated on one spot, not darting all over the room like they usually were.

Sam used to do this all the time. He'd make up an excuse to come over, talk for a bit, and then fall asleep next to Sebastian. He would've let him even without an excuse, but Sam didn't like people worrying over him. So Sebastian just pretended that he didn't know what was going on, and that the dark circles under his eyes weren't the first thing he noticed when he looked at him.

Sam woke up, still wrapped in the blanket from last night. His head lay on Sebastian's chest and his arms were wrapped around him. He lifted his head to look at Sebastian, one of his arms wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Finally," commented Sebastian. "I give you an arm, and you take everything." He freed one of his arms from Sam's grip. "Greedy bastard."

Sam sat himself up on the bed. "I was just keeping you warm, you should be grateful," he replied, stifling a yawn. "One of these days I'll find you frozen to death in this basement."

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, though. You should really get some kind of heating in here," said Sam. "Your anemic ass can barely handle the summer."

Sebastian reached for the cigarettes on his nightstand. "I know," he said, while placing one between his lips, he offered one to Sam, who just shook his head. Sam didn't smoke, except for rare occasions where they'd share one. But still, he offered everytime.

"I thought you didn't smoke in here?" commented Sam.

"I don't. But I'm not going outside in this weather just to smoke." Sebastian lit his cigarette. "So, you'll just have to deal with the smell." he argued.

The smell had never bothered Sam. He'd been smoking since he was fifteen, Sam was used to it by now. Sebastian not smelling like cigarettes would probably be more concerning to him.

"You're a lot more talkative this morning." Sam looked at him with a playful glint in his eyes. "I think it's safe to assume that you actually enjoyed having me on top of you."

Sebastian's breath hitched, causing him to choke on the smoke from his cigarette. Coughing, he sat himself up. Why the hell would he word it like that?

Sam laughed. "You okay?" He plucked the cigarette from Sebastian's hand.

"Fuck off," jabbed Sebastian, lying down again. He watched as Sam took a drag of his cigarette, before returning it to him.

A moment of silence passed between them. Sam looked down at his hands, playing with the corners of the blanket. "Are you coming this Friday?" he asked. "I really feel like getting drunk, and you've been bailing a lot recently."

"I know, sorry. I was busy."

"No it's fine, I just thought I'd ask to make sure."

"I'll be there," reassured Sebastian.

Sam smiled to himself. "Okay, I'm gonna go." He pulled the blanket from around himself, and covered Sebastian. "Don't freeze without me, okay?" he joked, climbing out of the bed.

Sebastian turned over to the side, cigarette between his lips. His eyes followed Sam as he walked to the door. "Thanks for letting me stay," said Sam, before closing the door behind him. Sebastian crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on his nightstand. He pulled the warmed up blanket closer to his face, making himself comfortable. God, was this ever going to end?

Chapter Text

Sebastian had known for a long time that he wasn't into girls. He'd felt attracted to guys before, but the way he felt about Sam was different. It went much deeper than that. Sam was attractive. But it's who he was that Sebastian liked the most. He never pretended to be someone that he wasn't. Sebastian didn't need to decipher him, like he had to with others. Which was something he hated. Sure, sometimes Sam confused him as well. And he also hated him in those moments. Okay no, he could never hate Sam, he hated what his own brain did in those moments. It'd cling on to them and replay them over, and over again, looking for some kind of hidden meaning. One night, in particular, still tormented him, even six years later.

They were seventeen, and one Friday evening Sebastian finally succeeded in getting Sam to smoke weed with him. The boys sat in the middle of Sebastian's room, across from each other. Sam's leg bounced up and down, as he waited for Sebastian to finish rolling the joint.

"I thought you were supposed to be an expert at this, why is it taking so long?" asked Sam.

"Maybe if you weren't staring right into my hands, I'd—" attempted Sebastian.

"Am I making you nervous?" teased Sam. He laughed as Sebastian's eyes shot up to glare at him. His leg coming to a momentary stop, before resuming the movement. Sam looked down at his own hands. "Hey, I wanted to ask…"

"What?" asked Sebastian, the annoyance still present in his voice.

"Are you and Abigail like"—Sam looked up at him—"a thing?"

Sebastian's hands dropped in his lap. "God, not you too," he sighed.

"No, it's just that everyone's saying it and…" Sam trailed off as he watched Sebastian roll his eyes. "I was just wondering," he added.

Sebastian snapped. "Well, everyone says that you're dumb because of your grades but I don't go around believing that shit, do I?" He watched as Sam looked down again. Shit, why did he have to be such an ass?

"I'm sorry," sighed Sebastian. "It's just annoying." He went back to the joint. "People only think that because we like similar things. And I guess that means we can't just be friends for some reason."

"I didn't think you were. I just felt stupid for not seeing it while everyone else was," explained Sam.

Their eyes met for a second. "You're not stupid," said Sebastian. "And I really don't think that grades prove whether someone's smart or not. Some people just don't do well in school. At least you're trying."

Before Sam could respond, Sebastian held up the joint, smiling. "Okay, ready?" he asked.

Sebastian's face was dimly lit by the small lamp on his desk. The most expressive feature on his face, had always been his big dark eyes. You could probably read all of his secrets in them, if he'd just let you look for long enough. It was a shame that he always covered them with his hair, thought Sam. He so badly wanted to know what went on in his head.

"What are you thinking?" asked Sebastian.

Sam wished that his response could be blamed on the unfamiliar substance in his body, but that would be a lie. He didn't really feel any different. His habit of saying whatever popped into his brain had gotten him into trouble many times before, but he never learned. "You know," he started. "Your eyes are really easy to get lost in."

Sebastian scoffed, looking away. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know… but in like a good way, you know?" he looked down, trying to think of a better explanation. A moment passed, and Sam looked up again. "I feel like I could look into them all day and not even notice how much time has passed."

Sebastian chewed on the inside of his cheek, clearly uncomfortable at Sam's pathetic attempt at complimenting him. "… I think you might need to work on your time management skills," he said.

"Probably," chuckled Sam. He looked around the room for a moment, before speaking again. "Hey"—Sebastian's eyes locked back on him—"can we do another one?" he asked.

"You sure?" questioned Sebastian.

"Yeah, man. I can barely feel anything."

"I don't know, you're already talking nonsense," he said. Still, he got up and grabbed another small plastic bag from the bottom drawer in his desk. "But then again, you always are," smiled Sebastian.

He settled back in front of Sam and took a sheet of rolling paper from the floor next to him. Sam's eyes were once again on Sebastian's hands, but this time he actually payed attention to every step of the process. His fingers moved faster this time, but still as precise. Maybe he really was nervous earlier?

Suddenly, Sebastian lifted his hands to his mouth and dragged the side of the paper along the tip of his tongue. A step Sam had seemingly missed the first time around. But also, a step that caused a fluttering sensation in his stomach. Their eyes met for a second, and Sebastian grinned. "You okay?" he asked. Sure Sam was okay, but why the hell did that just turn him on?

The lack of response made Sebastian look up again. "Sam? You still with me?" He had gotten his answer in a much more convincing way than he'd anticipated. Sam was very much still there. Right there on Sebastian's lips.

Clumsily, Sam got up to his knees, positioning himself over Sebastian. His hand tangled into the hair at the back of his head, and his other hand found it's way to Sebastian's jaw. Sam deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into his mouth. A pair of hands gripped onto the back of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Sam tugged on the black hair in his hand, forcing a soft moan out of Sebastian's lips as his head leaned back. Sebastian felt Sam smile at the sound. This was wrong, thought Sebastian. Well, it felt fucking amazing, but it wasn't supposed to happen. He pulled away lightly, his heart racing with panic. "What"—But Sam's lips were on his again before he could finish his sentence. Sebastian brought his hands up to Sam's chest, pushing him off —"what are you doing?" he breathed out, big eyes staring right into Sam's, waiting for a response.

Sam hadn't entirely processed what it was that Sebastian had asked him. Now that his hair was out of his face, Sam was too busy staring into his eyes. If Sebastian asked him now, it would be so easy to explain what he'd meant earlier. "Sorry, what?" huffed Sam. Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed. "I told you," laughed Sam "Your eyes are easy to get lost in. What did you say?" But seeing his eyes also meant that Sam could see the split second it took for them to go glaze over and turn distant.

Sebastian freed his head from Sam's grip and buried it into his chest, heat rising to his cheeks. He'd thought about kissing Sam an embarrassing amount of times before, but it wasn't right, was it? Sebastian took a deep breath and pulled himself off of Sam. "I asked…why did you kiss me?" the words came out much quieter than what he'd wanted them to. It wasn't exactly what he'd asked before, but a really stupid part of him hoped that Sam would tell him that he was in love with him. And that he could just go back to kissing him. He was being so fucking pathetic.

Sam chuckled. "I don't know, man," he laughed as he brought himself back to his spot on the floor. "I just had the urge for some reason."

Sebastian looked down, avoiding Sam's gaze. The familiar strands of hair fell back into his face, hiding the blush on his cheeks. Sebastian cleared his throat. "Right,' he forced out a laugh. What was he even expecting? He reached out to grab the joint he'd dropped. It probably wasn't a good idea to smoke any more, but Sebastian didn't know what else to do. "Can you hand me the lighter?" he asked, placing the joint between his lips.

Sam sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the bathtub. He'd just finished throwing up for the third time, but the uneasy feeling in his stomach persisted. Sam rested his forehead on his knees. The pounding in his chest was freaking him out. It felt like his heart was about to burst through the ribs and skin that surrounded it, or worse, flood out with the vomit if he decided to throw up again. His head shot up as Sebastian entered the room. He held a glass of water in his hand, as he squatted down in front Sam.

"Hey, you're okay," whispered Sebastian, placing his free hand on Sam's knee in an attempt to comfort him. "You just had a bit too much." He handed him the glass.

Sam took a sip. "I hope I didn't wake anyone up."

"No, don't worry." reassured Sebastian. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked.

"Not really," smiled Sam.

"It's best to just sleep it off." Sebastian took his hand off his knee. "Otherwise you're going to keep freaking out."

Sam frowned. "I don't want to die in my sleep from… heart failure, or whatever," he said.

Sebastian chuckled at the over-exaggeration. "You won't." But judging from the look on Sam's face, he wasn't too convinced. "I promise," he added.

He reconsidered for a moment. "Okay"—He took another sip from the glass—"but if you're lying, I'm gonna haunt your ass forever."

Sebastian shrugged. "I won't mind." He moved over to sit next to Sam. "At least I won't have to die alone," he joked, getting a small laugh out of him.

After a moment Sebastian spoke up again. "I'm sorry," he said as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

"For what?" Sam looked over at him.

"I shouldn't have let you smoke any more, you're not used to it."

"I asked you to," said Sam. "It wasn't your responsibility."

"Kind of was, since I'm the one giving you the shit."

"It's fine, man." Sam looked at the wall in front of them, stretching out his legs. "It wasn't all bad," he added.

Sebastian rested his chin on his knees. Sam probably wasn't thinking about the same thing that he was, but he still smiled to himself. "Yeah," he agreed.

It was almost a week later and Sebastian was really struggling with being around Sam. Especially, when they were alone. But he also didn't want to blow him off until his brain calmed down, so he had to recruit Abigail. Sebastian sat on her bed with his legs crossed, as she organized something on her desk. He cleared his throat. "Me and Sam were going to hang out this weekend, do you want to come with us?" he asked, attempting to sound as casual as he could.

Abigail exhaled sharply. "Okay"—She turned around to face Sebastian, crossing her arms—"what the hell is going on?"

Shit. Was that not casual enough? "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You've been acting weird all week." Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but Abigail cut him off. "Dragging me along with you guys in school, coming over here, and now you're inviting me to hang out with you?"

Sebastian scoffed. "I didn't know that asking your friend to hang out with you was weird."

"It's not weird. But it is weird for you," she squinted her eyes at him. "Something happened."

"Oh my god," he groaned, running his hands over his face.

"Why do you not want to be alone with him?"

Why did Sebastian think that this was a good idea? Of course, she would figure it out. He heard the tapping of Abigail's foot as she waited for an answer. "We kissed," mumbled Sebastian, with his hands still on his face. He could feel his cheeks flush.

Footsteps sprinted towards the door. "Can you repeat that, please?" she asked, closing it softly.

He dropped his hands in his lap, exasperated. "We fucking kissed, okay?"

Abigail grinned. "I knew it! You have a massive crush on him."

"I do not-" Sebastian's protest was interrupted by Abigail's father who shouted from the other side of the house. "Door open, Abigail!" She rolled her eyes and opened the door.

"It wasn't like that," said Sebastian. "We were high-"

"You kissed him while he was high?" Abigail interrupted, her voice full of judgment.

"No, I didn't. He kissed me," corrected Sebastian. "We… made out, kind of." Abigail looked at him sharply. "But he's not into me or anything. He was laughing about it, obviously it was just the weed."

"So if you're both fine, why are you avoiding him?" she asked.

"I'm not avoiding him. It's just weird. We haven't said anything about it to each other and he's acting as if nothing happened. But I can't stop thinking about it, and it's making me panic."

"And you want me to believe that this is not a crush?"

"Whether I have a fucking crush on him isn't important. I can't ruin our friendship like that," snapped Sebastian. He groaned as he got up from the bed. "You don't fucking get it, whatever."

"You're right, I don't fucking get it," mocked Abigail. "If you want to kiss him, do it, and figure it out from there. What are you doing wasting your time making stuff up and freaking yourself out over it?"

Sebastian scoffed, making his way towards the door. "It doesn't work like that."

"But what if it does? How else is it supposed to work?"

"Not. It's not supposed to work," said Sebastian. "I just want to be his friend… and for once, I'd like to not ruin something good in my life because of my stupid feelings."

Chapter Text

Friday couldn't have come any faster. Sam hadn't slept at all the past two nights, but he was positive that after a good night of drinking he'd sleep like a baby.

He was really glad to see Sebastian walk into the saloon. He'd promised to come, but sometimes even that didn't stop him from canceling last minute and leaving Sam disappointed. They had a couple of drinks, and played their regular round of pool while Abigail watched and cheered.

It was nearing midnight as they sat on the couch. Most people had already left, including Abigail, and the saloon was closing soon. There was no point in staying there anymore, but Sam wasn't nearly as drunk as he wanted to be. He turned to Sebastian. "What should we do?" he asked.

"I don't know," sighed Sebastian. "We can't hang outside, it's way too cold."

"Yeah, but I don't want to go home yet," said Sam disappointed. He bounced his leg, looking around. "Oh, I know!" he exclaimed, shooting up out of his seat.

"What?" Sebastian looked up, curious.

"You'll see," grinned Sam. "Get us a bottle of whatever and meet me in front of Pierre's in thirty minutes." He didn't wait for Sebastian to answer before running out the door and leaving him behind on the couch.

Sebastian stood in front of Pierre's for twenty minutes. It had started snowing and Sam was nowhere to be seen. Which wasn't exactly unusual. He moved to stand under the lamp post, making himself more visible. Ten more minutes, and then he'd call him, he decided.

Suddenly, a blond head of hair popped up in the distance, running towards him. "Sorry, I completely miscalculated," said Sam as he came to a halt, catching his breath. "Did you get it?"

Sebastian lifted his hand, showing him the bottle. "Okay, so what's the idea?" he asked.

"I'm not saying," smiled Sam. The lamp above them lit up his face, giving Sebastian a perfect view of his best friend. The cold air had left Sam's cheeks flushed and small snowflakes had collected on his eyelashes. "Come on, let's go," said Sam. Sebastian would've followed him anywhere in that moment.

"So, what do you think?" asked Sam, standing in front of Sebastian.

His fantastic idea was to hang out in the abandoned house in the West of town. The place had stood there for as long as they could remember. They didn't know who it belonged to, but they were clearly never there. "Fine by me," said Sebastian. "How are we getting in?"

Sam lit up at his approval. "The door was closed"—he walked up the stairs—"but, good news is, I got it open."

"Is there any bad news?" asked Sebastian, following close behind.

"Well… now it's permanently open." He shoved the door to the side, the hinges loosely dangling off the door. Sebastian laughed. "It wasn't my fault, the door practically fell of when I touched it."

"Yeah, right."

"Okay, maybe it was my fault. But just a bit," admitted Sam as they walked inside. The place clearly hadn't been taken care of in a long time, but it was still intact. Sebastian walked over to the left side of the room, the floorboards creaking with every step. He put the bottle of rum down on the floor and fished his cigarettes out of his pocket. He placed one between his lips and offered another to Sam.

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm good."

He dropped the cigarettes next to the bottle and pocketed his lighter. Sebastian sat down with his legs crossed, leaning against the wall. Sam sat down in front of him. "Actually"—he grabbed hold of the cigarettes—"can I use your lighter?" he asked, taking one out of the box.

Sebastian groaned. He'd put the lighter in his pocket, and he really didn't feel like digging it out of his jeans. "Just come here," he said, motioning Sam to come closer. He obliged, leaning in, not quite sure of what to expect. "Just inhale," instructed Sebastian, slowly moving closer until the tips of their cigarettes touched. Sebastian severely underestimated just how close this would bring them, and how Sam would decide to keep his eyes locked on his the entire time.

In hindsight, he didn't need to keep the cigarette between his lips. Holding it in his hand would've worked just as well. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.

Sam inhaled, his cigarette igniting. He moved back as he took a drag. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Yeah, cool trick to wow the ladies with," he forced out, attempting to regain his composure. Why would he say that?

"Oh, so that's what it is. You were just testing it out on me, so you wouldn't embarrass yourself in front of some girl," joked Sam.

"Yeah, right," snorted Sebastian, grabbing the bottle next to him and taking a sip. They sat in silence for a while, passing it between them. Sam could feel Sebastian's cold hand brush against his with every pass of the bottle. "Are you cold?" he asked. "Your hands are freezing."

Sebastian shrugged. "They're fine."

Sam grabbed his free hand, examining it. "Your fingertips are literally blue."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "So?"

"So, it would be nice if you still functioning hands tomorrow."

"What do you need my hands for?" said Sebastian. As soon as the words left his mouth, his brain came up with multiple scenarios of how he would love to use his hands on Sam.

"It just so happens that I like your hands," stated Sam. He moved closer to Sebastian, their knees bumping. "Come on, I have an idea."

"What is it?" asked Sebastian, unimpressed.

"Look, you'll put your hands in my sleeves and I'll put mine in yours," he explained.

"…Or we could just put our hands in our pockets?" offered Sebastian.

"Yeah we could, but there is no heat source in your pockets. This way there will be warmth radiating from our bodies," explained Sam, while taking hold of Sebastian's arm. They struggled for a good moment, wriggling their arms as they laughed. They now sat, conjoined at the arms, with their knees touching. The both of them were pretty much immobilized.

"Why were you so insistent on getting drunk today?" asked Sebastian. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to know if Sam would tell him the truth.

"I don't know," Sam looked down at their arms. "I just missed hanging out with you like this." He wasn't exactly lying. He did miss hanging out with Sebastian. But they could do that without getting shitfaced. He was just hoping for a good night's rest, and alcohol usually offered him just that.

"Yeah, me too," said Sebastian quietly. He didn't understand why he insisted on pretending that everything was fine. Sam himself knew exactly how frustrating that could be. There had been countless of times where he'd complained to Sebastian about his mother, doing exactly that. And now, he was doing it himself.

"Do you really want to do that programming stuff?" asked Sam, changing the subject.

"What do you mean?"

"I guess I'm asking if it's something that makes you happy? …Or do you just not know what else to do?"

"I don't know," Sebastian shrugged. "I like it. It's also nice that I get to choose what I work on. But it's not like I have any other options."

"Why are you changing it all then?" asked Sam. "A full-time job in the city? You never wanted that."

Sebastian scoffed. "It's not that simple. If I want to move there, this is probably the only way. I can't just keep doing freelance work, there is no guarantee that I'll always have a project to work on."

"And… you really want to move there?"

"I mean, I've wanted to for a long time now. You know that." Sam sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked down. Sebastian nudged him with his knee. "Hey, I'm not like…leaving you," he said softly.

"The way you spoke about it definitely made it seem that way," forced out Sam, his voice quiet.

Sebastian thought back to the conversation they had a couple of nights ago. "You know I wasn't talking about you when I said that…right?" He bent down, trying to look at Sam's face. "I've asked you before about coming with me—"

Sam cut him off, looking back up. "I told you, I can't."

"I know," reassured Sebastian, his hand gripped Sam's arm under his jacket. "The point is that I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want you there with me."

Sam exhaled sharply. "I know, sorry," he said. "I guess hearing you talk about it just made me realize that it's actually going to happen someday… but if that makes you happy, then I want you to do it," he smiled.

Sebastian chuckled softly. "I'm not going anywhere yet, calm down."

Sam yawned. "Yeah, you're stuck with me until then," he joked, lifting up his arm to dry his watering eyes.

Sebastian's arm moved with his, still stuck inside the sleeve of his jacket. "Tired?" he asked. Sam nodded, stifling another yawn. He looked adorable, thought Sebastian. "We should go," he offered.

"Wait." Sam removed his arms from Sebastian's sleeves, grabbing hold of the unfinished bottle. "Not yet."

They walked back to Sam's, holding on to each other after losing their balance one too many times and almost ending up in the river. Sam stood in front of the door, with Sebastian close behind him. He put his hand in his left pocket and laughed. Sebastian peered over his shoulder. "What's funny?" he asked.

"I don't have my keys," said Sam, leaning his forehead against the door.

"Check your other pockets, maybe you put them somewhere else," shrugged Sebastian.

"I always put them in the same spot. I forgot them."

"Just check."

"You check," retorted Sam.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"I'm—"

"Just turn around," sighed Sebastian. Sam obliged, turning around to face him. Sebastian checked the pockets in his jacket. "I guess you're right," he said. A familiar glint appeared in Sam's eyes. Sebastian mentally prepared himself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

"I just remembered"—Sam leaned back against the door—"I also have back pockets," he grinned.

"And what about them?"

"Since you're already checking… you should be thorough, you know?"

Nothing could've prepared him for Sam's request to basically touch his ass. They were already standing way too close to begin with, and the heat rising to Sebastian's cheeks made the space feel even smaller. He walked away, laughing. "Seriously?"

"What?" asked Sam confused, as if what he'd proposed was completely innocent. Sebastian just kept walking. "Where are you going?"

He turned around. "Come on, we're going to mine."

"No, wait," yelled Sam. "We can just go in through the window. You know… for old times sake."

Sebastian sighed, following Sam to the backside of the house. "I feel like you planned this," he said.

Sam chuckled. "You got me." He pushed the window open. "I just wanted to show off my window climbing skills," joked Sam. He was halfway through when he realized that he was way drunker than he thought. The spinning in his head caused him to lose his balance, and slam headfirst into the dresser on the other side.

"Shit," Sebastian cursed at the loud slam. He propped his arms up on the windowsill, catching a glimpse of Sam on the floor. "Skills, you said?" he teased.

"Shut up and get inside," ordered Sam, peeling his coat off as he collected himself off the floor.

Sebastian climbed through and closed the window behind him. "Are you hurt?" he asked, taking off his scarf and coat, dropping them on the floor next to Sam's.

Sam leaned against the dresser. "No, I'm alright,' he smiled, his hand holding on to his jaw.

"Can I see?" Sebastian moved closer, removing Sam's hand from his face. His bottom lip was split open, fresh blood seeping out of the wound. "Your lip's bleeding," he said quietly, his gaze fixed on his lips. Sebastian didn't think about what he did next. His thumb found it's way to Sam's lip and wiped the blood. His eyes shot up as his finger lingered, making direct eye contact with Sam.

Shit. They'd gotten way too close on multiple occasions tonight. But stopping himself from doing something stupid, proved a lot harder this time around. Sebastian moved his thumb down, parting Sam's lips slightly. Sam didn't move at all, he just waited for Sebastian to make his move. And when Sebastian finally did, he was ready, kissing him back instantly.

It all felt too familiar. Sebastian didn't think that he'd ever get to feel Sam's lips on his again. But here they were, six years later, and they felt just like he remembered. Except this time, a slight metallic taste accompanied them. Sebastian's hand lowered to Sam's neck, pushing his chin up with his thumb. He broke away from his lips and started planting kisses down his jaw, continuing down to his neck. Sam's hands tangled into Sebastian's hair, holding him close as he licked and sucked on the skin.

Sebastian's hand found it's way down, rubbing Sam's dick through his jeans. Sam tilted his head back in response, his breath quickening. "Fuck," he cursed, pushing his hips forward. "Please, Seb," he whimpered. Sebastian brought himself back to his lips, kissing him again.

"You drive me fucking crazy, Sam," he whispered, his forehead resting against Sam's. A weight lifted in his chest as the words left his mouth. Finally confessing something he'd been carrying around for years. He unbuttoned Sam's jeans and slipped his hand inside.

He watched as the pleasure built on Sam's face. His lips parted with each movement of Sebastian's hand, moaning louder the closer he got. Sebastian ran his thumb over his bottom lip. "I think you're gonna have to be a bit quieter," he chuckled. "I mean, I'm not complaining, but some other people might."

Sam opened his eyes, smiling shyly. "I'm trying," he breathed, laying his head down on Sebastian's shoulder. The sounds that followed were quieter, only meant for Sebastian. And Sebastian's brain made sure to take note of every single one.

Sam kept his head there afterwards, his breathing evened out as Sebastian's fingers ran circles on the nape of his neck. "Let's go to bed," whispered Sebastian.

Sam turned his face to the side, nuzzling into his neck. "What about you?" he asked.

"It's okay," reassured Sebastian.

Sam lifted his head and kissed him gently. It was entirely different from the way he'd kissed him before. The heaviness in Sebastian's chest returned, and it felt so much heavier, now that he'd experienced a moment without it.

Chapter Text

The sun shining through the opened curtains had woken Sebastian up. He'd been lying there for the last thirty minutes trying to figure out how to leave without waking Sam up.

Normally, Sebastian would enjoy a morning like this. Waking up first, with Sam still asleep and cuddled up to him, taking the chance to look at him for as long as he wanted. But this time, there was no enjoyment. Only a pounding headache and the all too familiar weight in his chest that grew heavier with every passing minute.

He lifted his hand, brushing Sam's hair out of his face. The covers moved slightly, exposing the marks he'd left on his neck last night. There was no way he could deal with this right now. Sebastian slipped out of bed and got dressed. He closed the curtains, hoping that Sam would get more of his much needed sleep, before quietly closing the door behind him. Sneaking out like this made it feel like some cheap hookup, which is not at all what it was for Sebastian.

He pulled his hoodie over his head the second he stepped outside, and started walking towards his house. The bright sun above him felt almost like a spotlight, trying to shame him for his actions. Every step he took seemed to tighten the knot in his stomach and fill his head with more thoughts. He really fucked it all up.

By the time he got to the house taking a breath seemed impossible. Sebastian opened the door and walked straight to his bedroom, not looking up even once. He'd heard a faint voice greeting him from somewhere, but the lack of air in his lungs made it hard to hear anything besides the thumping in his chest.

Sebastian ripped his jacket off with his shaking hands as lowered himself to the floor. He really needed to calm the fuck down. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk. Funny, he thought. He still kept his weed in the same spot as when he was seventeen, but he couldn't keep his hands off of Sam like he'd done back then.

He tried to roll a joint, but his hands and tear-blurred vision made the task way harder than what he was used to. Frustrated with himself, Sebastian gave up. Fucking pathetic. He scrambled towards the jacket on the floor, patting the pockets in search of his cigarettes. He cursed under his breath as he realized that they weren't there. Everything just had to work against him today, didn't it? There was probably another box laying around somewhere, but there was no way he could look for it right now.

He settled for something that probably looked even more pathetic. But for some reason it helped. Sebastian sat with his back against the wall and his knees pushed up against his chest. He tightly wrapped a blanket around himself and rested his head on his knees. The jeans that stretched over his knees dampened slowly as tears fell from his eyes. He hated this. He could deal with all the other shit like the nausea, chest tightness ,and his stupid shaky hands. But why did he have to cry?

Sebastian rocked himself back and forth lightly, hoping to calm himself just enough so he could roll that stupid joint. It might help for a moment, but if he couldn't stop his brain from doing what it did best, thinking, he'd just end up sending his body into panic mode over and over again until he passed out.

Sam woke up to an empty space beside him. He propped himself up on his elbow, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking over to the other side of the bed. Sebastian had already left.

He glanced over at the alarm on his nightstand. '10AM'. Sam hadn't slept this well in a while. The alcohol had definitely done it's job, but was that all? His brain was being all fuzzy about something, and he wasn't sure if that something had been real or just a dream.

He left his room, making a beeline for the shower. He could hear his mom in the kitchen as she made breakfast. Sam washed his face in the sink, the water causing the wound on his lip to sting. He looked up in the mirror to take a closer look, his eyes catching on something far more interesting. The bruises on his neck. The fuzziness was gone now, the mental images that confronted him this morning were in fact real. It wasn't just him having a very vivid dream about his best friend.

He got in the shower, attempting to collect his thoughts. He'd have to go see Sebastian. A sense of dread settled over him. Usually, going over to see him would be the highlight of his day.

He went back to his room to get dressed, making sure to wrap a scarf around his neck. He noticed Sebastian's cigarettes on the floor next to the nightstand. Good, he thought. An excuse to go see him. He pocketed the box and left his room.

He was about to head out the front door when his mom called out to him. "Sam! Can you come here a minute?"

Sam turned around, following his mom's voice into the kitchen. Vincent sat at the table eating his breakfast. He looked up at Sam and smiled. "Good morning," he greeted with a stuffed mouth.

Sam sat down next to him. "Hey, little man," he ruffled his hair.

"What time did you come home last night?" asked Jodi, turning to face her sons at the table.

Sam ran his hands over his face. "I don't know… not late?" he attempted. His mom looked at him pointedly. "Three?" he winced.

Jodi sighed. "Yes, three in the morning," she said disappointed. "And I don't think I have to tell you what I think of that."

Sam looked over at Vincent who pulled a funny face at him. He stuck out his tongue as a response. "Samson," said Jodi sternly.

Sam turned back to face his mom. "Yes, mom. I'm listening."

"The least you could do is be quiet when you come home that late, and try not to break the house down in the process."

Sam really hoped that the being quiet part was about his head slamming into the dresser, and not the other thing. "I forgot my keys, I—" he attempted to explain himself.

"This is not the first time Sam," Jodi cut him off. "I always put them beside the front door, how hard is it to just grab them when you walk out?"

He looked down. "I didn't mean to, sorry."

Sam turned around, following his mom's voice into the kitchen. Vincent sat at the table eating his breakfast. He looked up at Sam and smiled. "Good morning," he greeted with a stuffed mouth.

Sam sat down next to him. "Hey, little man," he ruffled his hair.

"What time did you come home last night?" asked Jodi, turning to face her sons at the table.

Sam ran his hands over his face. "I don't know… not late?" he attempted. His mom looked at him pointedly. "Three?" he winced.

Jodi sighed. "Yes, three in the morning," she said disappointed. "And I don't think I have to tell you what I think of that."

Sam looked over at Vincent who pulled a funny face at him. He stuck out his tongue as a response. "Samson," said Jodi sternly.

Sam turned back to face his mom. "Yes, mom. I'm listening."

"The least you could do is be quiet when you come home that late, and try not to break the house down in the process."

Sam really hoped that the being quiet part was about his head slamming into the dresser, and not the other thing. "I forgot my keys, I—" he attempted to explain himself.

"This is not the first time Sam," Jodi cut him off. "I always put them beside the front door, how hard is it to just grab them when you walk out?"

He looked down. "I didn't mean to, sorry."

"Hello, Sam!" greeted Robin from behind the counter, the moment Sam walked into the carpenter's shop.

"Hey, is Sebastian here?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, I saw him come in a while ago. He should be down in his room," replied Robin. Sam didn't know if he was imagining it, but Robin looked kind of worried.

"Okay, thanks!" Sam forced a smile and made his way to the basement.

He knocked before opening the door. Sebastian was on the floor, wrapped in a blanket. Sam probably wouldn't have seen him, if it wasn't for the laptop in front of him that highlighted his face in the dark room. This couldn't be good for his eyes. Sam walked over to the desk and turned on the lamp. Only then a pair of dark eyes shot up at him. He sat himself down next to Sebastian and nudged him with his shoulder. "What's up?"

"Nothing," replied Sebastian with his eyes back on the screen. "Why are you here?" he added.

"I don't know… I thought maybe we should talk?" said Sam carefully, abandoning his original plan of using the cigarettes as a cover.

"About what?"

"… Last night?" suggested Sam.

Sebastian turned to Sam. His red eyes landing on Sam's lips for just a small moment before looking straight into his eyes. "We were drunk. There's nothing to talk about," said Sebastian coldly.

It stung for a moment. It's not like Sam wanted to talk about it. But clearly there was something that needed to be said if Sebastian decided to act like this. Since when did he smoke weed that early in the day anyway? Sam brushed it off, deciding to risk another attempt. He nudged him again. "Why—"

"Can you stop?" snapped Sebastian. "I'm busy."

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a place to stay."

Sam leaned in closer, looking at the screen. Sebastian was scrolling through rental websites. "What for?" he asked confused.

"Oh yeah"—Sebastian paused for a moment—"I took the offer."

Oh yeah, like it was something that he just forgot to mention? "When did you do that?" blurted out Sam.

"Does it matter?"

Of course it fucking mattered. Sam cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak calmly. "When do you leave then?"

"Wednesday."

Sam sat in the forest by the lake, listening to the water as he pulled on the grass around him. He had left shortly after, mumbling out a simple okay. He pulled the cigarette box out of his pocket and ran his thumb over it.

Sebastian could be so frustrating. One moment they could be the closest they'd ever been, and then Sebastian would turn cold in a split second. Usually, Sam was able to get through when he got like this, even just slightly. But usually, it was also someone else that he was shutting out. Sam would just end up being the one dealing with his shitty mood until he got better.

But this time was different. It was very clear that Sam was the one causing his moodiness. And the only reason he could come up with was last night.

Sebastian was the one that initiated it. So, if anyone had the right to be mad it would be Sam, right? But he wasn't mad, he had let him. And if he was completely honest with himself he didn't really regret it. Yesterday felt right. Being close to Sebastian always felt right. It wasn't the alcohol, these thoughts occurred to him more often than he'd like to admit. He's only ever acted on them once when they were seventeen and Sam was high. He didn't understand it back then, and that hadn't changed.

Their relationship had always been complicated. Sam never fully understood it himself, and he was fine with that. All those nights Sam had fallen asleep clinging on to him, he knew that it wasn't normal. They had also never been accidents, Sam did it on purpose because Sebastian made him feel safe and calm.

The only person Sam had ever dated was Penny. They were both nineteen back then. He totally fucked that up because he didn't understand his feelings either. But this wasn't the same, was it? Why did it all have to be so confusing? Maybe relationships just weren't for him?

Sam looked down, the box still in his hand. Six cigarettes. Six months without Sebastian. How was he supposed to survive that? It was probably really selfish, but Sam could really use him here right now. He had told him to go, but not like… this. Four days? What if Sam hadn't come over? Would he not have told him at all?

Chapter Text

It was Wednesday, and Sam had just finished his shift at Joja Mart. He sat on Sebastian's couch and watched as he packed. A suffocating silence hung over the room. They hadn't spoken since Saturday, the day Sebastian casually mentioned that he was leaving in four days.

Sam was exhausted. He hadn't slept properly since then. Besides a couple of short naps that snuck up on him, he'd been awake the whole time. He could hear the buzz from the light above them. It felt like a swarm of bees inside his brain. Sam bounced his leg in a poor attempt to calm himself. He had no idea how much longer he could take it. The one time Sebastian decided to turn those big lights on, just had to be now.

"Hey, can we turn off that light?" asked Sam, his voice coming out much sharper than he'd intended. Sebastian looked at him, probably for the first time since he'd been there. "It's bothering me," he added.

Sebastian walked over to his desk and turned on the lamp, before flipping the light switch next to the door. "Better?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks," said Sam, a relieved breath escaping his lips.

Sebastian stood there for a moment, unsure of how to voice his concern about the state Sam was in. The exhaustion was clear on him. Sebastian leaned against the wall and cleared his throat, hoping to ease some of the tension. "… Are you going to be okay when I go?" he asked, looking down at his hands.

Sam's leg slowed. "What? Why wouldn't I be?"

He took a breath before speaking again, "Come on, Sam". Sebastian looked at him. "I can tell something's going on." Sam just stared back at him, like a deer in headlights. "Coming over at night, getting drunk,…" he paused. Sam still didn't say a word. "You're clearly not getting any sleep."

Sam looked away. "I don't know why you're making a big deal out of this." He smiled, attempting to brush it off. "Yeah, I have trouble falling asleep sometimes, but it's not that serious man."

"You've always had trouble falling asleep. This is different," corrected Sebastian. "And please don't try to deny it again, Sam."

"Look"—He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and sighed—"I'm dealing with it myself. You don't have to worry."

Sebastian took a step closer. "But I am worried," he said. "And clearly you dealing with it on your own isn't working."

"You really don't get to do this right now," laughed Sam bitterly.

"Do what?" he asked. "Why the hell is it so hard for you to—"

Sam's eyes shot up. He scoffed, "You're such a fucking hypocrite." The words left his mouth before he could even think about them.

"Excuse me?" retorted Sebastian.

Sam stood opposite Sebastian now, finally getting to call him out on his bullshit. "You told me you weren't going anywhere!" he shouted.

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" asked Sebastian confused.

"You don't get to do this shit when you don't tell me anything either."

"When did I even say that?"

"Are you fucking serious right now?" laughed Sam. "I know I have a shitty memory, but you're not going to fucking gaslight me."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"Friday night? When we were drinking in that old house?" questioned Sam. He watched Sebastian's eyes widen in realization. "Right before you decided to put your fucking hand down my pants."

Sebastian averted his eyes, his whole body tensing up. "It's not like that, Sam."

"Really? Then why have you been avoiding me for the last four days?" Sam asked. "How do you think that makes me feel?"

"I wasn't avoiding you. I was busy,' replied Sebastian. His eyes had fixated on a spot on the floor, not daring to look up into Sam's.

"No you weren't. You always do this."

The bitterness in his voice made Sebastian's throat burn. "What is this?" he choked out.

"You shut everyone out," answered Sam, his voice finally back to a normal level. Sebastian's chest tightened again, squeezing out any air that was left in his lungs. Sam continued. "You just suddenly decide to put up these fucking walls… and I'm expected to deal with them, without any explanation."

Sebastian put his hands into his pockets, attempting to still the shakiness. "Just get the fuck out," he ordered sharply, using the last of his breath.

Sam threw his hands up. "See? You're doing it again," he laughed at the absurdity. "What am I supposed to do? Wait for six months and pretend that everything is fine when I see you again?"

He sighed at the silence. Sam turned around to leave, his hand stopping on the door handle for a moment. "Just… tell me if I did something wrong, Seb." he pleaded quietly.

Shit. Of course he hadn't done anything wrong. As much as Sebastian wanted to tell him that, he couldn't. The small breaths he took were barely enough to fill his lungs, let alone force out any words. He tried to fight back the tears as his vision slowly blurred.

Sam scoffed. "Right." He slammed the door shut behind him. Sebastian's eyes shut at the sound. He lowered himself to the floor as the tears streamed down his face. He brought his knees up to his chest, hugging his arms around them. He'd been feeling on edge since Saturday morning, the threat of breaking down constantly breathing down his neck.

His shaking hand dug for a cigarette in the back pocket of his jeans. Victorious, he brought it to his lips, when the door opened again. His eyes shot up, alarmed. "Hey, I wanted to—" Maru came to a halt.

"What did I say about knocking?", forced out Sebastian, his hands hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks. Great, so now he could talk.

"Are you okay?" she asked carefully.

Sebastian went back to his cigarette, attempting to light it with his shaky hands.

Maru approached him slowly, and sat down in front of him. "Does that help?" she asked, gesturing to his cigarette.

Frustrated, Sebastian tossed the lighter aside. "I don't fucking know!" he exclaimed.

"How are you still an asshole while having a panic attack?" she asked.

"It's not a panic attack."

"Right," Maru looked around. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Sebastian sighed. He patted the floor around him, looking for the lighter. He shakily handed it to her without saying a word. "Oh, okay…" said Maru, taking the lighter from him and bringing it to the cigarette he'd put back between his lips.

Sebastian rested his chin on his knees, smoking his cigarette with closed eyes.

"Do you want me to sit with you?" asked Maru.

"I don't know," he said quietly. 

Maru watched as Sebastian lit another cigarette. "Are you better?" she asked.

Sebastian nodded lightly.

"Does this happen often?"

Sebastian sighed, clearly not in the mood to explain any of it to his half-sister. "I don't know. It's more like a period of time where I feel like shit." He paused for a moment. "The feeling is just constantly there and sometimes it becomes too much… and you get whatever that was."

"And is it like… set off by anything in particular?" she asked curiously. "I saw Sam leaving right before I came down…"

Sebastian took a long drag of his cigarette. "No, Sam didn't do anything," he replied. "I guess it's just… I don't know, stuff changing that freaks me out."

Maru nodded, accepting his answer.

"Thank you. You didn't have to be nice to me," said Sebastian.

"Don't flatter yourself, I would've done that for anyone," joked Maru.

Sebastian chuckled. "I know."

Sam quietly closed the door behind him when he got home. He'd hung out by the river for a while, hoping that his mom would already be asleep by the time he got back. The faint noise coming from the living room quickly made him realize that he was wrong.

"Hey honey, did he leave already?" asked Jodi as he walked into the room.

Sam cleared his throat. "Yeah, just left." He looked at his mom awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. "What are you watching?" he asked, looking over at the TV.

"Just this new show I got into recently," she said. Her eyes landed back on Sam, smiling at him sympathetically. "Come, sit down."

Sam sat down on the couch next to her. He had a habit of getting way too into whatever his mom watched. When he was a kid, they'd spend nearly every evening watching TV together. Sam's head would lay in her lap and she would run her hands through his hair. Easily one of the best feelings in the world. He glanced at his mom for a moment, before laying down.

Within seconds, as if on instinct, her hands were running through his hair. Sam smiled to himself, watching the screen in front of them. He wasn't really paying any attention, his thoughts were still occupied with Sebastian.

His vision blurred for a moment. A tear rolling down the side of his face as he blinked. Sam sniffled quietly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Are you okay?" asked his mom softly from behind him.

Sam waited a moment before answering. "I was really mean to him, mom," he responded quietly.

"What happened?"

"I guess"—He sniffled again—"the same thing that always happens. But for some reason I thought now was the best time to say something about it."

Jodi took a breath. "When you hold on to things for too long instead of talking about them, they have a tendency to come out in ways we don't want them to." She thought for a moment. "As long as you apologize, I don't think he'll hold it against you, honey."

"But I don't think that I was wrong."

She chuckled. "You can be right and still go about it the wrong way, Sam."

"I know," he sighed. His screaming probably indicated otherwise, but Sam wasn't angry at Sebastian. The irritability was a pure byproduct of the amount of sleep he'd been getting. That, combined with the increasing frustration he'd felt towards Sebastian's silence the past days just caused him to explode.

Sebastian wasn't wrong to be concerned about him. It was actually sweet that he noticed, unlike others. Sam was used to being a lot to deal with, even without his sleep issues. Putting anything more on the people around him just seemed unfair, so he just decided not to tell anyone. Honestly, sleep deprived Sam was probably a lot easier to deal with for people. At least compared to a fully well rested one that was always told to calm down or stop talking as much. 

The phone in Sebastian's hand moved with him as the bus drove over the multiple potholes on it's way out of Pelican Town. He stared at the unsend message he'd been trying to type for the last fifty minutes.

Sebastian
You didn't do anything wrong. Sorry for making you feel that way.

If he had just told him then and there, maybe this whole thing wouldn't have gotten so out of hand. But he couldn't. Sebastian's body had this stupid way of reacting whenever someone called him out on something. Every muscle in his body would tense up and make him feel like he was suffocating.

He tried really hard to convince people that he was just an introverted person, and it worked for the most part. But moments like this exposed the fact that he was just anxious and emotionally incapable. He was embarrassed. It was a side of him that he never wanted to show, so he just shut everyone out until it passed. And Sam usually took the hint and backed off, but not today.

His phone screen turned black. Sebastian sighed, putting it in his pocket. He rested his head against the window. This was going to be way harder than he initially thought. That Saturday morning, when he accepted the offer, being away from the stuff that made him freak out seemed like the best idea ever. But being in an entirely different place on his own would come with new things to freak out over. No matter what he chose to do, he would always end up with the one thing that caused these issues in the first place. His own fucking brain.

Chapter Text

It had been a month since Sebastian moved to Zuzu City. The apartment was all settled, but he still wasn't. He'd spent the last month in a constant state of stress and it was starting to take a toll on him.

The apartment didn't help either. It was a total dump, which wasn't surprising. He took whatever was available on such short notice, and told himself that he wouldn't complain. But he did. He complained every time the faucet broke in the bathroom, a handle fell off of the countertops, and every time the windows made that annoying creaking sound.

It was a Saturday evening and Sebastian was lying on the couch. Weekends were the worst. During the week, he'd spent the entire day at work. By the time he got home, he was too tired to think. Weekends were the complete opposite. He was alone and had nothing to do, leaving his brain all the time in the world to come up with things to worry about. That was pretty much how every Saturday had looked like for the past month.

At least until the late evening, then he'd go out to the bar on the corner of the street and have a couple of drinks. But somehow, no matter where he went, there would always be something to remind him of his mistakes.

In this case it was someone. One of the bartenders looked entirely too much like Sam. It was probably just the long blond hair and green eyes, because the things he actually liked about Sam were missing. He didn't carry himself with that same energy or curiousness for things. It felt like a shell of a person placed there deliberately to torture him.

Which didn't really make any sense. Sebastian didn't have to step foot in that bar every Saturday night. But he did. He figured he probably deserved to be tortured for the way he had treated Sam.

It was a constant reminder of the fact that, for the first time in their entire lives, him and Sam hadn't spoken in a full month. Sebastian thought about texting him all the time, but he'd open the chat and his unsent message would stare back at him. Apologizing with a pathetic text like that didn't seem right. Especially not now, after a full month had already passed. 

Sebastian sat at the bar, looking down at the glass in front of him. The place was dimly-lit, with a couple of reddish lights around. The music and chatter of the people around were just right, not too overwhelming. It was the perfect place to disappear in, or at least it had been the past couple of weeks.

Two, clearly drunk, young women walked over to him. "What are you sulking about? Come sit with us!" shouted the redhead, making sure that Sebastian could hear her over the music.

"I'm good," declined Sebastian.

The blonde spoke up. "Come on! We don't bite," she laughed.

Fuck it, thought Sebastian. Maybe he needed some socializing. He got up and the girls cheered. They led him to the table they were sitting at. "Go on, sit," said the blonde, gesturing to the seat opposite of them.

The redhead leaned in. "Okay, so what's got you all sad?" she asked.

"I'm not sad," denied Sebastian. "What are you two doing here?" he asked in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

"I was supposed to meet up with my boyfriend tonight, but he totally bailed on me." The redhead hooked her arm into her friend's. "So my friend here decided to go out with me to cheer me up."

The blonde gasped suddenly. "Oh my God, that's totally it!" She pointed at Sebastian. "That's a total look of heartbreak!"

The redhead squinted, studying his face. Sebastian looked around, uncomfortable with the attention.

The blonde looked at her friend. "Trust me, I've seen it before. It's exactly what Mike looked like when I dumped his ass."

The redhead looked at Sebastian for a moment longer, before turning to the blonde. "I see it," she nodded. "We'll need more drinks." She got up and made her way towards the bar.

Sebastian looked around, shocked. What were they? Mind readers? "Look, it's not at all what you think—"

"You can't fool us," she smiled. "Don't worry, I know exactly how to help."

Oh God. What did he get himself into?

The redhead approached with three drinks in her hands. She set them down on the table and slid one in front of Sebastian.

"Thanks?" he said.

"Okay, so what did she look like?" asked the Blonde.

The redhead squinted her eyes again. "Oh no, you got this one wrong." She nudged her friend. "The other way."

"Interesting," said the blonde. "What did he look like?"

"Okay, hold on-" Sebastian downed his drink. "How the hell are you guys doing this?"

The girls laughed. "We have experience," explained the redhead. "So, what does this guy look like?"

Sebastian didn't know if it was the alcohol, or the fact that they were complete strangers, but for some reason he decided to go along with it.

"I don't know, he's got blond hair." He played with the empty glass in front of him. "It's like neck length." The girls nodded, encouraging him to continue. "He usually styles it in spikes, but I think it looks best messy. Like in the morning when he wakes up," he explained. He'd woken up next to Sam so many times before that the image was practically clear in front of him.

"Green eyes?" he shrugged. "But when you see them in the sun there's actually a bit of blue in them, so I don't know." He sighed. "He's just the most magnetic person, you know? Like when you walk into a room, he—" Sebastian looked up at the girls, stopping himself when he noticed the look on their faces.

The blonde crossed her arms. "Oh, this is going to be hard. You're like totally in love with him."

"I'm n—"

"Don't deny it!" she interrupted.

The redhead practically jumped out of her seat. "Oh my God, the bartender!" She brought her voice to a whisper. "That's why you're here isn't it?"

Sebastian stared back, shocked.

"Dude, you're no better than us."

"Okay, but this is actually perfect!" reassured the blonde. "You need to fuck someone who looks exactly like him. Trust me, it's how I got over my ex."

Sebastian snorted, leaning back in his chair. "I'm not doing that." He looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the bartender. "He's probably not even into guys."

The redhead leaned in. "Trust me, he is." Sebastian looked over his shoulder again.

"Wait, I'm going to the restroom," announced the blonde, throwing a look that Sebastian couldn't quite place towards her friend.

As soon as she walked away, the redhead squinted her eyes at him again. "Did something ever happen between you two?" she asked.

Sebastian sighed. He'd already told them this much. "Yeah," he laughed. "…and then I decided to move here without explaining anything to him."

"And you think you're going to get over him this way?"

"There is no getting over him," he sighed again. "I've tried to for years, but every time I'm with him… I don't know what it is, he just does something to me." Sebastian thought for a moment. "And I can't imagine my life without him in it, so I guess I'm kind of screwed." He looked down at the glass in front of him, avoiding the look the redhead was giving him.

"So, what's it going to be?" The blonde walked back to the table.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder again. He just kept surprising himself today. He got up and walked towards the bar, empty glass in hand. Obviously getting over Sam was impossible, but at this point he was willing to try anything to take the edge off, even just for a moment.

"Need a refill?" asked the bartender as Sebastian approached.

Sebastian placed his glass on the bar. "Sure."

Their eyes locked as the bartender poured his drink. Sebastian leaned in slightly. "What time do you get off?" he asked.

He looked over his shoulder. A black clock hung on the wall behind him. It was just past midnight. "One," he replied. His eyes back on Sebastian's.

"Meet me outside?"

The bartender nodded, his lips quirking up lightly.

Sebastian woke up to the sound of light snoring. He tiredly rubbed his eyes before looking over to the other side of the bed. Blond hair peeked out from under the covers. It didn't take him long to figure out that it wasn't the blond hair that Sebastian was used to. Sam didn't snore, nor did he face away from Sebastian when he slept.

Sebastian rubbed his eyes again. What made him think that this was a good idea? He got out of the bed and started collecting his clothes from the floor. He pulled his phone out of his jeans to check the time. It was almost 5AM and Sebastian had no idea how far exactly he was from his apartment. He got dressed and quietly slipped out the door.

He didn't feel bad about it this time. Because this time it had actually been just some hookup. He didn't even know the guys' name and he didn't care about it either. The sex was objectively good, but the guy was a bore. He was too similar to Sebastian when it came down to personality. There was no banter leading up to it, or after, they just went through the motions.

He made his way down the apartment building, while putting in his address into his phone. Great. A thirty minute walk. He lit a cigarette and followed the directions.

The streets were strangely quiet. It was probably the first time since Sebastian had moved here that he didn't feel bombarded with hundreds of different sounds from the second he woke up. The city was terrible in that way. Back home everything was always quiet. No sounds of cars, people chatting,… It was just quiet, and God had he missed that.

The quiet wasn't the only thing he missed, though. He missed Sam. A lot. Sebastian never minded being alone. He didn't seem to need all the socializing that other people needed. It came naturally to others, but for him it was exhausting. Nobody understood that, besides Sam. The most talkative person Sebastian knew, tried to understand, while others just brushed it off as weird.

But he wasn't just alone now, he also felt alone. Because there was no Sam waiting to speak to him, when Sebastian finally felt like it. He stopped walking and pulled out his phone. To his surprise the message wasn't there anymore when he opened Sam's contact. It had stayed there for a full month, but when he finally decided to send it, it was gone.

Unsure, he typed out a simple Hey and pressed the button, before giving himself a chance to reconsider.

Chapter Text

Sam lay in his room with his head hanging over his math coursebook. He was supposed to be doing his homework before dinner, but his brain refused to cooperate. He'd changed positions five times, ending up on the floor on his stomach with the book in front of him. He let out a groan as he, once again, checked his phone for a message from Sebastian. He hadn't shown up to school all week and wasn't answering Sam's texts. Sam was worried, despite it not being the first time that Sebastian had disappeared like that.

He could hear his parents talking in the kitchen. It was weird. He'd gotten used to it just being him and his mom. His dad had come home a week ago, and Sam didn't really know what to make of it. The last time he'd seen him was three years ago. He had come home for a couple of days on what he called 'holiday leave'. Sam never really understood much of how the military worked. He knew that he hated everything about it, though.

It's not like anyone ever sat him down to explain it either. His dad would come home and leave again, because he 'had to'. Sam never knew when the next time he was going to see him would be, or if there even would be a next time. Their voices got louder, making their conversation clear to Sam.

"I told you it would be temporary," said Kent.

"Yes, I know," Jodi sighed. "But two weeks?"

"It's all I could do, honey. They don't just let people visit whenever they want to," he explained.

"I get it, but I'm worried Sam might not. He hasn't seen you in three years," she lowered her voice.

Sam couldn't make out the rest of what was said. But, once again, he wasn't told anything. His dad was leaving again, in one week, and they still hadn't told him. It was starting to feel a lot like no one told him anything. His parents or Sebastian. He always had to figure everything out on his own.

He heard his mom's voice from the kitchen. "Sam! Dinner's ready!" she shouted.

Sam walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, his parents sitting across from him. "Did you finish your homework?" asked Jodi.

"Yes, mom," replied Sam. He hated the question. No, he didn't. But he'd tried, as if that ever counted.

They ate in silence for a while, before Sam caught his mom shooting a look towards his dad. Clearly, signaling for him to talk to Sam. "I heard you're not doing too well in school," said Kent.

"Really? That's a first," commented Sam. Always school, how about he asks him about something interesting?

"I had an idea," said Jodi quickly. "Maybe we could watch a movie together after dinner?"

"I was actually going to see Seb."

His dad looked towards his mom, frowning. "Sebastian. Robin's son. They're in school together," clarified Jodi.

"Seriously?" scoffed Sam. He couldn't even remember his best friend's name?

"Sorry, you know I've been gone for a while, It's hard to—" started Kent.

"I'm aware." Sam went back to his plate.

"What time will you be home then?" asked Jodi.

"I don't know. I'll probably sleep there if it gets late, though."

"Okay." The disappointment in her voice was clear, but Sam really didn't feel like pretending that everything was fine just because his dad would be gone again in a week.

Sam walked down the stairs to Sebastian's bedroom after Robin had let him into the house. He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. He was hit with a smell of weed the second he walked in. Sebastian's head shot up from the bed to look at whoever had come in. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, waking himself up.

Sam sat down on the bed and let himself fall back, letting out a deep sigh.

"What's up?" asked Sebastian.

Sam's head turned to the side to look at him. "Could ask you the same thing. You haven't been at school all week." Sebastian looked away at the confrontation. "And you're not answering my texts."

"You first," said Sebastian, having absolutely no intention of going second.

"My dad's leaving again," he said, turning back to look at the ceiling.

"Oh… sorry."

"It's not that. I knew that it would happen."

Sebastian thought for a moment. "So, what's the problem?" he asked.

"They didn't tell me." He rolled over to his side to look at Sebastian. "They never do. I always have to figure it out or wait until they finally decide to tell me at the last possible moment."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He didn't really know what to say.

"Even when he's here, it's the same as if he wasn't you know? It's always the same boring conversations and mom just pretending that everything is fine. He doesn't even know anything about me…"

He sat back up. "He doesn't try to either. Like ask me about my guitar or something, I don't know. The last thing I need is another lecture about school, as if I don't hear those enough." Sam sighed. "Your turn."

"I'm okay," he shrugged, hoping that it would be enough to get Sam off his back.

"I didn't know that people that are okay lock themselves up in their room and ignore their best friend." Sebastian went silent, staring off at something to the side. "And get high just to lay in their bed," added Sam.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I'm not high."

"Dude, your eyes are red and it literally smells of weed in here."

"What are you? My fucking mom?"

"No, I'm just saying you're clearly not okay."

"Yeah, I feel like shit," he snapped. "Is that not allowed anymore?"

"Just tell me that then," said Sam quietly. "I always have to figure it out myself. It makes me feel like you don't trust me enough to tell me."

Sebastian ran his hands over his face, exhaling. "It's just not easy for me, okay? I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Talking about stuff."

Sam thought for a moment. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. We can just sit in silence if that helps," he smiled at Sebastian.

Sam could find a solution to anything. He'd just smile at you and it would make everything seem so easy. It was the sweetest thing ever. But it could also be annoying. Because, technically, Sebastian's issue was now solved, right? He could just be with Sam whenever he felt that way, without the need to talk about it.

But there was more to it. When everything got too much for Sebastian, there was nothing that could be done to calm the ridiculous thoughts in his head. Not even Sam's smile could settle them. Maybe it could, or maybe Sebastian just really wanted it to, but he'd never want Sam to see him like that.

Because, at his worst, it wasn't just mental but also physical. He'd throw up, shake, be unable to breathe… it was embarrassing. He'd often stay home from school because of it. His mom had wanted to take him to the doctor on multiple occasions, but Sebastian refused. He couldn't even talk to her, how was he supposed to do it with some stranger who didn't even actually care?

Sebastian couldn't tell Sam any of that, could he? So, instead he smiled back at him. "Okay." He looked down at his hands. "Are you… okay?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, it's just frustrating,"

"Do you want to watch a movie?" asked Sebastian. Sam nodded. "Any requests?" he asked, climbing out of bed.

"No, you can choose," answered Sam, already climbing under the covers to make himself comfortable. Sebastian set up the movie and positioned the TV in front of the bed. He sat down next to Sam, both their leaning against the wall.

The movie started and Sam chuckled as the title screen popped up. "Seriously? How many times are you going to make me watch this?"

"Until you actually watch it. Not fall asleep in the middle."

Sam smiled. Sebastian was very picky with everything. There weren't lots of things that he loved. But when he did love something and showed it to you, he really wanted you to love it as well. He felt bad about falling asleep, but he'd always had a hard time keeping his attention for longer periods of time. Especially when he could barely understand what was going on and had to constantly ask Sebastian to explain.

"Do you want to watch something else?" asked Sebastian. "I was trying to make you feel better—"

"No, it's fine. I said you could choose," he reassured. "Besides, I want you to feel better too."

Sebastian looked at him for a moment. "I guess you still get to choose something for you then."

"You're going to hate me for this," he said after taking a moment to think. A stupid grin appeared on his face. Sebastian panicked, he was never quite sure of what to expect when Sam grinned at him like that. "I want to cuddle."

Sebastian turned back to the screen. He didn't say anything. "Forget it," rushed out Sam. "I know you don't like—"

"I don't mind," interrupted Sebastian.

"Since when?" asked Sam surprised. Sebastian just continued to look at the screen. "Did I manage to train you?" he laughed.

"Train? I'm not a dog."

"Yeah… you're more like a cat," mused Sam, resting his chin on Sebastian's shoulder. "It's even more impressive that I succeeded in that case."

"Shut up. I didn't say I enjoy it… more like tolerate."

Sam nuzzled his face into his shoulder. "Thank you for tolerating me," he said, his voice sincere.

"Yeah, you too," said Sebastian softly.

Sam spoke up after a moment. "You know cuddling actually requires you to do something as well."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Never satisfied, are you?" Still, he lifted his arm and put it around Sam.

Sam smiled, pressing himself closer. He put his arms around Sebastian's waist. "I'm pretty satisfied right now."

"Good."

Just as expected, Sam had fallen asleep about halfway into the movie. Sebastian didn't mind. Not when Sam's arms were still loosely wrapped around him, and his head lay in his lap. With Sam on him like this, he'd lost all interest in the movie. His eyes just kept being pulled back to Sam, tracing slowly over every part of his face. Sebastian wrapped a blond strand of hair around his finger, and played with it, forcing himself to look at the screen.

With his eyes back in front, Sebastian's mind started to wander. Figuring out that he had feelings for Sam was easy. Having to live with them, was a lot harder. Sebastian decided very quickly that he wouldn't risk their friendship for something that might one day pass, even if that didn't seem possible to him. Having Sam in his life was infinitely more important to him than finding out what his lips would feel like against his own. Maybe one day he'd be lucky enough, but what good would that do? He wouldn't be satisfied with just getting to kiss him once. It would only leave him wanting more.

Sam moved suddenly, Sebastian's eyes snapping back down as he quickly retracted his hand to his side. Sam made a soft noise as he made himself comfortable, one of his hands falling to Sebastian's side to rest on top of his hand. Sebastian hurriedly pulled away, his heart speeding up as he panicked. He look down at Sam who's eyes were still closed.

He was staring again, and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to intertwine their fingers and kiss him. Sebastian thought for a moment, inching his hand closer to Sam's until their fingers lightly touched. It was enough. Just the light contact. He didn't need anything more, no matter how much he wanted more, it wouldn't be— His mind went blank as Sam's hand took hold of his. His eyes snapped back to Sam, who was still asleep. Sebastian didn't pull away this time. He didn't understand how something as simple as Sam's hand could make him feel so comforted, but he let himself have it, even if it was for just a small moment.