Chapter Text
The living room looked like a shrine to organized chaos.
An amp sat like a sleeping beast against the far wall, surrounded by a coiled mess of cables that threatened to trip anyone who walked past without care. Guitar picks glittered across the carpet like confetti near the guitars—acoustic, electric, bass, all hanging on the wall or sitting in stands next to their cases. A drum set sat on the far wall from the couch and TV, the coffee table between them covered in a mismatch of items. A half-drunk bottle of soda, pens, an assortment of seemingly random things next to an empty ramen cup and a crumpled set list scribbled in Sam’s messy handwriting.
It was home. Loud, cluttered, and chaotic, but it was home. It had been for the two years Sam and Sebastian had lived here, as well as their friend and bassist Lexi, on the outskirts of Zuzu City. Sebastian had originally met them online, but after several years of friendship, it was a no brainer to just rent a place together.
Sam sat cross-legged on the couch, his guitar balanced against his knee as he hummed a riff, tongue poking out in concentration. He looked completely at ease in his ripped jeans and ragged tee shirt—Lexi's technically, but they had stopped glaring at Sam for borrowing their clothes long ago—his blonde mullet spilling down over his shoulders in a sun-bleached tangle. The tiny silver hoop on one side of his lip, and the one in his nose, caught the light every time he dipped his head.
“Dude,” came a flat voice, "If you’re gonna keep playing that same chord progression for an hour, at least do it in your room,” Lexi muttered from the other couch, the smaller person squinting in annoyance with their laptop balanced in their lap. They closed the lid and set it on the coffee table, sighing as they walked down the hallway towards the downstairs bathroom. "I'm trying to work on some lyrics and you're driving me insane."
Sebastian leaned against the counter in the kitchen, nursing a steaming mug of coffee with frogs decorating it like it was the only thing keeping him from strangling someone. His dark hair fell in lazy waves around his face, long enough now to brush his cheekbones and the column of his neck. The piercings caught the glow of the under-cabinet lights when he shifted, black snakebites glinting at his lip, a slim ring hooked through one side of his nose, a pair of metal studs through his eyebrow. He looked effortlessly sharp in his bleach-splattered purple sweatshirt, one shoulder sliding bare, the black ink of his tattoo curling against the pale skin of his wrist, where the sleeve was shoved up, and his collarbone before vanishing under the fabric.
Sam didn’t even glance up. “You love it,” he said, grinning to himself.
Sebastian let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Like a migraine, sure.”
From down the hall, Lexi reappeared, padding through the living room to the kitchen where they shuffled around, opening and closing a cabinet. He returned to the main room with a steaming mug of tea in their hand, short and quiet and calm as ever. Slender, black T-shirt hanging loose over narrow shoulders, pastel hair tied back into a ponytail loosely at the nape of their neck. They stopped just long enough to step over a tangle of cords and side-eye the battlefield of guitar picks littering the carpet.
“One day,” Lexi said evenly, “I’m gonna start taking a buck off of my rent for every single guitar pick you leave around. Or," they hiss as he sat back down on the couch, sipping from their mug, "I'm going to find one in my drink, or my food, and I'll accidentally choke on it."
Sebastian did actually laugh at that.
"And then you’ll have to explain to my family how I died because of your inability to clean any of your guitar picks, and the house was overflowing with them, and they got mixed into my food—or drink—and I fucking choked on them.” Lexi rambled under his breath, ignoring the snort from the kitchen.
Sam finally looked up, flashing a grin. “Dude, you’d go down as a rock legend.”
“Yeah,” Lexi deadpanned, sipping their tea. “Real glamorous. Death by Fender shrapnel.”
Sebastian smirked faintly into his coffee, tilting his mug back for another drink. Sam winked at Lexi like he’d scored some kind of victory, grinning and white canines flashing, but before either could fire back, a car horn blared outside. Only for a moment, but Sebastian's mood immediately soured, scowling when he glanced in the direction of the door. "Seriously?"
Sam jolted up so fast his guitar almost hit the floor, scrambling to lean it against the sofa. “He’s here!” he shouted, darting toward the front door. He passed Sebastian, pausing to kiss his cheek before hurrying to get his shoes on, Lexi following behind to meet the new housemate.
Sebastian frowned into his mug, a wave of anxiety coursing through his entire body, muscles tense and jaw locked while he ground his molars.
Great.
The screen door creaked open with a sound that could wake the dead, and Sebastian sighed, reminding himself to oil it, though his mom already did that every time she visited over the years and he still hadn't gotten to it, and likely would continue to forget until someone opened it and his ears rang from the sound. Cold fall air rushed in, followed by the slam of car doors and Sam’s booming voice: “Alex, dude! Long time, no see! How was the trip?”
Sebastian set his coffee down and stared at the kitchen tiles like they’d personally offended him, debating if he could sneak up to his room before Sam noticed. He could hear the clatter of boxes, Sam’s laughter and conversation as he introduced Lexi, and another voice—low, familiar, but softer than Sebastian remembered.
Lexi, leaned back in the doorway, raised a brow with a glance at Sebastian. “Not what I was expecting—that is the new guy, right?”
“Unfortunately,” Sebastian muttered, already craving a cigarette.
“Be nice,” Lexi said playfully, taking another sip from their mug before setting it on the counter near Sebastian, who now was considering dropping one of the discarded guitar picks into the drink.
Sebastian did not.
His jaw tightened as the front door opened again, this time accompanied by the thud of heavy steps and Sam’s cheerful commentary about where to put stuff. Sebastian stayed where he was, one hand on the counter, tapping his fingers against the laminate, hearing the trio stack the boxes just inside the door and move back outside for another load.
Sebastian refilled his mug of black coffee and ate a piece of the bacon leftover from their breakfast lunch, trying to tune out the sounds, though when he saw the house cat—a stray the three had adopted as a kitten, Lucy—nearing the open door, he sighed and carried the cat into the bathroom and shut the door. Checking the food and water, Sebastian tossed the cat a piece of the bacon, pet them and returned to the kitchen to retrieve his mug.
Maybe he would just go to his room. He didn't feel like playing nice, or acting like friends, or dealing with the socially draining expectation of polite conversation.
But then, the voices drew closer, the front door closer again.
“…Yeah, just set that box in the kitchen,” Sam was saying. “We labeled a cabinet for your food! Lexi made you a sign and everything. Isn’t that sweet? They're really good at art, so they made one for each of us to store whatever we buy, and there's a cabinet for canned stuff or whatever you don't mind people eating.”
Sebastian turned at that, if only to glare. And that’s when he saw him.
Alex walked in, a cardboard box cradled in his arms, pausing in his tracks when he lifted his head and saw Sebastian.
His smile slowly fell and for half a second, neither of them moved.
His hair was longer now, brushing the curve of his jaw, and the stupid high school varsity jacket was gone—thank Yoba for that—replaced by a faded blue denim jacket over a crimson V-neck T-shirt, black jeans hugging his long muscle-thick legs. He looked older, sharper around the edges, but that easy confidence was still there, simmering under the surface.
“Sebastian?” Alex’s voice was quieter than the raven-haired man expected, almost tentative. "Hey man. How are ya?"
Sebastian lifted his chin slowly, eyes narrowing. He hated that his first thought—his actual first thought—was holy shit.
And then he hated Alex for being here, for being somehow hotter now and for forcing Sebastian to feel anything at all but nervousness and attraction. It reminded him too much of high school.
Before Sebastian could speak, Sam came barreling in behind Alex, grinning wide. “Great, you found the kitchen!” He laughed and slung an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders like nothing was wrong, like Sebastian wasn’t currently plotting someone’s murder, dark eyes squinting at the tall jock, that he wasn't turned on and extremely pissed off. “Check it out—your cabinet is right there, dude. Got your name on it and everything.”
Sebastian said nothing, eyes locked on Alex. expression cold and distant. He decided to ignore his question in lieu of sending a message with his body language.
Alex set the box down slowly, clearing his throat. “Uh…thanks, Sam.”
Sebastian’s lip curled. He could already see the awkward apology forming in Alex’s throat—the kind of half-assed attempt to make up for years of being a gridball star with all the worst friends—aside from Haley, who for whatever reason got a pass for having shit friends, while Alex certainly did not. He wasn’t interested in some domestic dream where he and Alex got along, or played nice.
And yet, when Alex’s eyes flicked down Sebastian’s body—just for a split second, but enough—something ugly and sharp twisted in Sebastian’s chest and heat pooled in his cheeks and his core.
Sam’s voice cut through the tension like a cymbal crash. “Man, this is awesome, huh? Everyone in one place! Sorta." He chuckled. "Haley and Abby live closer to downtown, but we see them pretty often! And Emily has even visited. She really likes our cat," he grinned and glanced around. "Where is Lucifer, anyways?"
"Put her in the bathroom so she wouldn't get out the door," Sebastian muttered, rolling his eyes.
Sam laughed and nudged Sebastian lightly with his elbow. "She used to be a stray, you dork—though I guess she has gotten really used to being an inside cat by now, huh?"
And then, Sebastian felt like a light bulb went off in his head.
Without warning, he turned, hooked his fingers in the beltloops of the blonde's jeans and kissed him.
Sam made a startled sound against his mouth, then laughed when Sebastian pulled back, brows furrowed in mock confusion. “Oh—what…?” Sam asked, blinking, his arm still slung casually over Sebastian’s shoulders, a flustered, shy smile twitching at his lips. He glanced between Alex and Sebastian, confusion settling on his face.
Damn, he looked cute as fuck when he blushed.
Sebastian licked his lower lip, letting the snakebite piercings glint under the kitchen light. “Just checking,” he murmured, voice low but carrying, “if Alex says the word fag out loud, or just lets his friends do it.”
The air in the kitchen went tight. Lexi made a startled noise behind Alex, still toeing off their shoes. Alex froze, box half-unpacked on the counter, a jar of peanut butter dangling precariously from his hand. For a split second, guilt flickered plain as day across his face, and that was enough to make Sebastian’s chest burn hotter.
Sam’s smile died immediately and Sebastian flinched internally, the hot rage in his hest giving way to regret. Sam rarely looked at Sebastian with anything less than pure, unadulterated love and affection. “Sebastian,” His voice sharpened into something quiet, warning. "Dude."
Sebastian's jaw clenched, only raising a brow, grabbing his coffee mug from the counter like he had all the time in the world. “What?” He looked at Alex deliberately, eyes dark, unforgiving. “Like he and his friends used to in school?”
Alex’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked twenty years younger all of a sudden, shoulders squared like he was about to take a hit.
“Sebastian,” Sam repeated, stepping forward this time. But Sebastian was already turning away, mug in hand.
“Relax,” Sebastian said over his shoulder, heading for the stairs. “I’m just getting out of your way. Wouldn’t want to make your friendly little reunion awkward.”
The floorboards groaned as he went up, leaving Sam in the kitchen with Alex and the tension humming like feedback through an amp.
Sam dragged a hand down his face and let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Dude…” He turned to Alex, who was still standing stiffly by the counter, peanut butter jar clutched like a weapon, sympathy washing over him immediately. Lexi whistled and murmured, "Whoa," walking back towards his bedroom door down the hallway next to the bathroom. He let Lucifer out along the way, the fluffy black cat chirping as she sauntered out to lay on the couch.
“Sorry,” Sam said, voice softening, sheepish. “He’s…he’s got a thing about that still. You didn’t deserve that.”
Alex blinked, then gave him a small, crooked smile, like he’d already decided not to make a big deal of it. “Nah. I kind of did.”
Sam frowned. “No, man—”
“No, really.” Alex set the jar down carefully, leaning back against the counter. “Back in high school? I hung out with some real assholes. I probably laughed at stuff I shouldn’t have. Probably said stuff myself. So…yeah. I get it.”
Sam studied him for a moment, then huffed out a laugh, tension melting just a little. “You and Haley were always chill, though. Honestly, Sebastian just hates sharing his space with anyone. Give him a week, he’ll be ignoring you instead of glaring.”
That earned a real laugh from Alex—low, warm. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, eyes sliding to the floor. “Fair enough.”
Sam nodded toward the cabinet with Alex’s name taped to it. “Go on. Make yourself at home.”
Alex started unpacking, tucking a couple of boxes of cereal into his space, a loaf of bread, a half-empty bottle of protein powder. After a moment, he chuckled under his breath, glancing over his shoulder.
“So…uh…” He hesitated, lips quirking. “The kiss—are you two…like…a thing?”
Sam barked out a laugh, leaning back against the opposite counter, arms crossed. “Oh, that? Nah, man—we’ve been messing around for years, honestly. He was just trying to freak you out.” Sam grinned, rubbing the back of his neck, his sunny energy warming the room again. “We’re both gay—well, bi or something. Abby too, actually.”
Alex blinked, then let out another soft laugh, tilting his head. “Huh.” His smile turned thoughtful. “Sam…I think I’m gay, too. Or…something. B-but, please don't tell anyone? Only Haley knows, actually…" He rubbed the back of his neck again, cheeks burning pink.
Sam’s grin widened, bright and unbothered. “Dude, welcome to the club. Your sorta-secret is very-secret with me.”
Sam leaned against the counter, the tension in the room thinning into something almost normal again. He dragged his palm over his jeans, sighed through his nose, and shot Alex a grin that was more bright than apologetic this time.
“So,” he said, eyes flicking to the mostly-unpacked box at Alex’s feet. “You guys wanna order some pizza? I’m gonna go check on Sebastian. Be right back.”
He pushed off the counter and paused halfway to the hall, glancing back over his shoulder. Sam’s smile softened, a little mischievous, and he pressed his index finger to his lips in a quick zip-motion. “Not a word,” he teased.
Alex smirked and gave him a mock salute, warmth lingering in his eyes. “Your secret’s safe.”
“Good man.” Sam nodded approvingly, then added as if the thought had just hit him, “Oh—once you’ve got the food thing figured out, we can help move your stuff into your room. And, hey—if you wanna invite Haley and Abby over for the unpacking party, make sure there’s enough food because those girls can eat." His, full-bodied, the sound bouncing bright off the kitchen walls. It was as friendly and warm as Alex remembered. "I'll give you a little extra for their part.”
Alex chuckled too, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “I’ll buy! Least I can do for the help.”
Sam’s eyes lit up immediately—like someone had just told him Christmas came twice this year. Food motivation was practically his love language, and pizza? That was holy ground. He clasped his hands dramatically in front of his chest. “Dude. You’re already my favorite roommate—uh, of the ones I don't kiss.”
"Uh, rude?" Lexi called from down the hall.
Sam laughed and leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “Also, pro tip? One of those giant cookies? Best peace offering you can make to the emo dude upstairs.”
That earned a laugh from Alex—warm and genuine. “Noted,” he said. “Adding it to the order.”
Sam gestured toward a paper pinned to the fridge. "That's our favorite pizza place!"
Alex turned, tilting his head to read the options, his gaze drifting over the colorful images and small print, checking if there was any apps to order with—Haley had warned him to download some already. The menu was held in place by three magnets, each telling its own quiet story of the household.
One was holding a photo of Lucifer as a kitten. A fluffy, impossibly tiny ball of fur with huge eyes that didn’t match, one startlingly blue, the other a vivid green. Far too large for the small, delicate face that seemed to hover in the picture. Their expression was caught somewhere between curiosity and mischief. Alex smiled faintly at the sight, imagining the chaos such a tiny creature could have caused in the house when it was settling in to earn a name like that. He hadn't seen many cats around Pelican Town, but he liked dogs a lot, so he was curious to meet the little fluff ball.
Another magnet was a more mundane reminder of life beyond their little bubble: a colorful logo from a sushi restaurant in Zuzu City, edges worn from repeated handling. Its presence was almost practical, a marker of favorite haunts and easy convenience, yet in combination with the kitten photo, it gave the fridge a quirky, lived-in personality that immediately made Alex feel more at home.
The third one was from a queer-owned cat café and bookstore, the logo of a cat with a pride flag wearing glasses, reading a book. Haley had mentioned both the household feline and the other roommate, Lexi, working at this place. While he was curious to check it out, he knew the anxiety from living in such a small town would take some time to get better, worried about somehow being seen.
His eyes lingered on the kitten magnet a moment longer, tracing the soft contours of Lucifer’s tiny paws and ears in the photo, before flicking back to the menu. There was something comforting in seeing the life and history of the house displayed so casually on its cold, steel surface—a subtle, unspoken welcome to a new chapter that Alex could already feel slipping into place.
Sam glanced back at Alex with a gentle smile. “Good man,” he said, bouncing on his heels like the promise of melted cheese had given him a caffeine hit. With one last grin, he headed for the stairs, two steps at a time, his voice trailing off: “Extra pepperoni! And cheese bread or garlic knots if you’re feeling fancy!”
Alex began placing the order when another voice nearly made him jump out of his skin.
"This is Lucy, by the way. She also responds to Lucipurr."
When he turned, his eyes landed on the shortest of his new housemates holding the cat in their arms. She was on her back, pawing at a loose strand of Lexi's pastel colored hair. They rolled their eyes and set her down on the tile floor to open a cabinet, pulling out a bag of treats. "She's a catnip and treat addict, but don't let her trick you. She gets sick if she has too many."
Alex couldn't help the warm, surprised laugh when Lexi handed him a few of the snacks and Lucy stood tall against his leg, her chirp and meow adorably familiar for new friends. "Yoba above, Lucy, you are so cute."
Sebastian sank down into the computer chair, hunched over his desk in the soft hum of his dual monitors, the glow painting shadows against his sharp cheekbones and jaw. The clack of his keyboard filled the room, a steady rhythm that was equal parts work and white noise for his thoughts.
The room was quiet, save for that and the distant city hum filtering through the windows. Gods, the windows. Two of them on both of the walls of his corner room—big, wide panes on adjacent walls, pale light spilling in, tinting the hardwood floor and his dark bedding in silver-gray. It still struck him sometimes—the simple novelty of being above ground.
After years in that basement room at his mom and stepdad’s house back in Pelican Town, this was freedom. No stale laundry room air, no footsteps overhead like constant static, no one slamming his door open to ask him questions. Abigail had learned about that the hard way, once, when Sam and Sebastian had been mostly undressed with Sam's cock in Sebastian's mouth. Somehow, she had managed to blame them for that instead of realizing it was rude to burst into the room.
Here, he could sit at his desk and glance up at the skyline: lake stretched out like glass in the distance, the knife-edges of tall city buildings cutting into the bruised afternoon sky. Clouds had begun to gather, lazy and heavy, dimming the light inch by inch.
He wrapped his hands around his mug, took a swallow of coffee gone tepid, and exhaled slow.
The glowing code on his monitor blurred as he stared straight through it, jaw tight. He could still hear Sam laughing with Alex downstairs. Could hear Lexi chiming in now too, friendly, like they’d all been roommates for years already.
Sebastian scowled and shoved his headphones on. He wasn’t about to sit here and listen to Alex charm his way into the house like nothing had happened.
Not after two years of not seeing him. Not after all that time Sebastian had spent making sure he wouldn’t have to him again. It felt wrong the moment he'd heard Alex's voice—
Sebastian grimaced like the name itself was bitter, setting the mug down with more force than necessary. Of course it had to be him. Of all the people they could have dragged into his space—
A sharp rap on the door cut the thought in half. Three knocks, light, followed by the click of the handle. Sam slipped easily, softly shutting the door behind him. The ease came from years of memorizing Sebastian's boundaries, and years of learning how badly Sebastian needed them. He shut the door behind him and didn’t say a word, didn’t even look expectant. Just leaned against the frame, quiet, waiting.
Sebastian kept his gaze on the screen for another few seconds, fingers flying across the keyboard, pinning a chunk of code and saving his work before sliding the headset off his neck. It was a ritual by now. Sam knew not to barge in, not to break his rhythm mid-line of code, and Sebastian loved him for it—though he’d never say that out loud. At least outside of sex.
Finally, Sebastian pushed his chair back, the soft squeak of wheels on wood breaking the silence. He stood, lean frame unfolding slow, and crossed the room. Halfway there, Sam met him, warmth radiating off his broad-shouldered frame like sunlight Sebastian would never admit he needed.
Sebastian didn’t bother with words. He just stepped in and pressed his face to Sam’s throat, arms sliding around his waist like muscle memory. Sam let out a breath, the tension in his stance bleeding out instantly, his hands coming up to cradle Sebastian’s back.
“Hey,” Sam murmured, low and fond, brushing his lips against Sebastian’s temple.
Sebastian made a sound that wasn’t quite a reply, more like a sigh dragged from somewhere deep. He tilted his chin, nuzzling the soft yet prickly skin just under Sam’s jaw, breathing him in. Sam smelled like worn cotton and faint aftershave and something sweeter—maybe soda from earlier, he thought.
Familiar.
Safe.
Sam kissed the top of his head, lazy and slow, before one hand slipped lower, cupping Sebastian’s ass through the soft denim of his black jeans. His palm squeezed the supple flesh, firm, dragging Sebastian flush against him until their hips bumped and friction sparked hot in Sebastian's belly.
Sebastian’s breath hitched, a soft noise tearing loose before he could swallow it down. "Nnh…"
“That bad, huh?” Sam teased, lips against his hairline, his voice pitched just above a whisper.
Sebastian didn’t answer. He just mouthed at the edge of Sam’s jaw, teeth grazing lightly, and that was answer enough.
Sam grinned, all easy warmth, and shifted, walking them backward toward the bed with slow, deliberate steps. His lips brushed the shell of Sebastian’s ear when he spoke next, a whisper like a secret.
“Want me to make you come?”
Sebastian snorted, soft and derisive, like the offer was beneath him—but the way his grip tightened said otherwise, fingers curling into Sam's shirt, his breath catching at the feeling of their clothed waists grinding.
He let himself fall backward onto the mattress, the bedsprings creaking as Sam lowered him down, climbed over him and bracing on his forearm on the mattress, the other hand under Sebastian's shirt to play with one of his pierced nipples. Sam’s weight settled heavy and perfect above him, his thigh wedged between Sebastian’s as his hand slid down, bold and sure, cupping his hardening dick through his jeans. Sebastian’s hips jerked, breath stuttering out, and that tiny loss of control burned his pride in the best way, his mind growing hazy from lust.
His hands didn’t waste time. They went straight for Sam’s belt, nimble fingers popping the button, dragging the zipper down with a rasp that sounded too loud in the hush of the room.
Sam hissed when Sebastian’s knuckles grazed him through his briefs, but didn’t slow, kissing down the line of Sebastian’s throat, teeth scraping where the lavendersweatshirt slipped off one sharp shoulder. Sebastian’s head tipped back, eyes half-lidded, mouth parting in a soft gasp when Sam’s teeth found the hollow under his ear.
The kiss that followed was messy, open-mouthed and desperate, tongues tangling like they had something to prove. Sebastian sucked a bruise high on Sam’s shoulder, leaving it dark and blooming against golden skin, while Sam’s hand finally freed him from the confines of his jeans, stroking slow just to tease, dragging a groan out of him.
Sam laughed low in his throat as he worked the stubborn denim down Sebastian’s narrow hips, his breath hot against Sebastian’s throat. The laugh turned breathless halfway through, his lips grazing the soft curve of Sebastian’s neck. “Gods,” he muttered against skin, voice rough with arousal and mirth, “you make me work for it every damn time.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped when Sam’s fingers brushed over the sharp angle of his hipbone, slipping lower. “Shut up,” he shot back, though his voice cracked traitorously when Sam’s mouth sealed over a spot just below his jaw and sucked hard enough to leave a mark.
Sam grinned against his skin, tongue smoothing over the sting. “Thought I was supposed to make you come,” he teased, the words almost swallowed by the hiss that tore out of him when Sebastian’s long fingers finally curled around him, firm and sure.
Sam’s hips jerked involuntarily, the friction like an electric jolt. His breath stuttered into a low, guttural groan as Sebastian’s thumb swept across his slit, slicking the head. Before Sam could get a proper breath, Sebastian leaned in, biting at the curve of his neck just hard enough to make Sam gasp.
“Yoba—Seb—” Sam’s voice broke around a strangled laugh, the sound melting into a moan as Sebastian’s hand worked him with maddening precision.
Instinct had Sam moving, pressing their foreheads together, kissing him hard—desperate, messy, wet—and dragging his own hand between them, wrapping around both their cocks where they strained together. The slide was obscene, skin to skin, precum slicking the glide as Sam stroked with practiced ease, his palm catching both lengths and working them in sync. The friction stole the air from his lungs; his groan bled into Sebastian’s mouth, his tongue tangling hot and insistent.
He broke the kiss only to murmur against Sebastian’s ear, breath ragged and voice thick: “This good? Or more?”
Sebastian didn’t answer with words. His hand shot out, fumbling under one of the pillows until his fingers closed around the familiar shape of the lube bottle he kept stashed there for moments exactly like this. He dragged it free and shoved it toward Sam without ceremony, eyes dark and glassy with want.
Sam chuckled, low and filthy, taking the bottle with one slick hand and popping it open with his teeth like he’d done it a hundred times. “Knew you’d have it ready,” he muttered, pride curling through the heat in his voice.
Sebastian shot him a look—sharp, annoyed, and unbearably hot—before flipping onto his stomach, moving with controlled urgency. His jeans were shoved down to his thighs, pale skin bared to the warm wash of lamplight, muscles in his back flexing as he braced himself on his forearms, chest pressed into the dark tangle of blankets. His hips angled up just enough to be an invitation without words.
Sam’s breath caught, hunger spiking in his veins like a fever. He pushed up on his knees behind Sebastian, slicking his fingers with a generous pump of lube, watching it glisten as he spread it slow and deliberate. His gaze dragged over Sebastian’s body like a worshipper at an altar—the elegant slope of his spine, the faint tremor in his thighs as he held himself steady, the way his hair spilled forward like ink.
“Beautiful,” Sam murmured without thinking, and then his slick fingers were sliding between firm cheeks, finding the tight heat that gave under the first push.
Sebastian groaned—deep and rough, the sound punching straight into Sam’s gut—as one finger sank inside, stretching him with languid care. Sam swallowed hard, dragging his teeth across his lower lip, and leaned forward to mouth along Sebastian’s shoulder. He kissed over sharp bone, open-mouthed and reverent, before dragging his tongue across the column of Sebastian’s neck and down toward the curve of his shoulder blade.
Sebastian shivered, hips pressing back with silent insistence. Sam smiled against his skin and slid a second finger in, slow, watching the way Sebastian’s shoulders tightened for a moment before easing into it. The muscles in his back shifted as he breathed through the stretch, and then—Gods—the soft, broken sound that fell from his lips when Sam crooked his fingers just right.
“F-fuck,” Sebastian hissed, shoving back hard enough to make the bedsprings squeal. "Sammy—"
Sam groaned, forehead pressed between Sebastian’s shoulder blades, his free hand moving to his own aching cock, giving it a few rough pumps just to relieve some of the pressure clawing at him. His voice was wrecked when he spoke, breath spilling hot across Sebastian’s skin: “You feel so fucking good—always so tight for me—”
Sebastian’s fingers fisted in the blanket under him, a sharp gasp cutting him off when Sam scissored his fingers and dragged them slow over that sweet spot inside, over and over until Sebastian was pushing back with something like desperation, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Sammy—fuck—please—"
Sam’s hand never stilled on himself, stroking fast, matching the rhythm of his fingers buried inside Sebastian. His mouth stayed busy too, painting bruises down Sebastian’s spine, praising him in a voice gone hoarse with want. “That’s it, baby—taking me so good—fuck, you’re perfect—”
Sebastian groaned again, long and low, hips canting back to chase everything Sam was giving him, tension winding tighter and tighter until it felt like the whole room pulsed with the sound of breath and skin and the slick, obscene drag of Sam’s fingers working him open.
The air was heavy, electric, thick with sweat and the quiet sting of teeth sinking into skin when Sam bit down at the juncture of Sebastian’s neck and shoulder, holding on like he’d lose himself otherwise. And through it all, his voice never stopped—soft, dirty, loving—knowing exactly how Sebastian liked it.
Sam cursed low and hot against Sebastian’s ear, the sound vibrating through his chest as he drove his fingers into him a few more times, curling hard against that sweet spot until Sebastian bucked and whimpered like it hurt to need this much. Then Sam pulled his fingers free, both of them swearing at the loss, and swiped his hand carelessly on a rumpled T-shirt at the edge of the bed before popping open the lube again. The slick sound of it filled the charged silence, Sam stroking himself from base to tip with quick, practiced motions, breath coming hard already.
“Yoba—Sebastian, fuck,” Sam rasped, lining himself up and leaning forward, forehead pressed to the narrow slope of Sebastian’s shoulder. He pushed in slow, steady, swallowing a groan when tight heat clenched down around him. Sebastian buried his face in the blankets, biting down to smother the choked cry that ripped from his throat as Sam sank in to the hilt. Sam’s fingers dug hard into Sebastian’s hip, anchoring them together, knuckles whitening from the grip.
“Fuuuck, Sebby,” Sam gasped against his skin, voice wrecked already, “so damn—fuck—tight, baby…”
Sebastian trembled under him, letting out a low, shaky sound, hips rolling back instinctively as he adjusted to the stretch. "Fuck! Sammy—h-ah—ahh…"
Sam was thick and long, filling him completely, almost too much, and that perfect burn made Sebastian’s pulse trip. He loved this—the way it took Sam a heartbeat to steady himself, chest heaving, lips pressed to Sebastian’s shoulder as if he could breathe him in. And then, like clockwork, Sam’s voice broke out in a groan, “O-ohhh fuck, Sebastian, takin’ me so well,” as though it amazed him every single time.
Sebastian shuddered at the praise, fingers twisting in the sheets, and Sam began to move—first slow, measured thrusts, giving Sebastian time to adjust, the head of his cock dragging deliciously along the edge of every nerve. Then he started to build speed, hips snapping forward with more force, pounding deeper with every push.
Sebastian matched him instinctively, pressing back into every thrust to take Sam even deeper, a wicked little rhythm that drove broken groans from Sam’s lips. Sam’s grip shifted up Sebastian’s torso, dragging him closer, his chest plastered to Sebastian’s back as he buried himself again and again.
“Fuck, yeah,” Sam gasped, breath hot against Sebastian’s ear, “knew you—fuck—knew you’d let me fuck it all outta you—” His words fell apart in a ragged moan when Sebastian arched sharply under him, a cry spilling from Sebastian’s throat at the perfect shift of angle. Sam’s thrusts grew rougher, his hips rolling with bruising precision, and the room filled with the wet, obscene sound of their bodies colliding.
Sebastian’s voice cracked into high, needy keens, the sounds half-swallowed by the blankets. Sam’s free hand found its way around Sebastian’s throat, applying just enough pressure to cut the edge off his cries, to keep the noise from drifting downstairs to Alex and Lexi. The touch wasn’t harsh, just grounding, controlling, the way Sam knew Sebastian liked it when his head was too full.
“That’s it,” Sam groaned against his neck, feeling Sebastian’s swallow under his palm, “be good for me—let me hear it, baby—just for me—”
Sam drove into him harder, deep and merciless, every thrust making Sebastian clench and arch under him. Sebastian couldn’t hold back the rough, desperate sounds that spilled from his lips, breath broken, body moving helplessly in perfect sync with Sam’s relentless rhythm. Sam cursed again, gasping, his words spilling hot and filthy into Sebastian’s ear, hips pistoning faster now as the bedframe creaked under them.
Sebastian loved this—how Sam never had to guess what he needed, how he pushed just to the edge of overwhelming but never too far, how he fucked him like he meant it, like he knew Sebastian wanted every last ounce of strength wrung out of him. And Yoba, Sam was loud, groaning and babbling praise every time Sebastian shoved back to take him deeper.
“Fuck—you’re perfect—so tight for me—love you like this—” Sam’s voice was broken, his words shaking with effort as his hips slammed forward, his whole body braced against Sebastian’s trembling frame.
Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, mouth open against the sheets, taking every brutal thrust, every filthy word, until it felt like his brain was dissolving into heat and sensation. Sam draped himself fully over Sebastian now, chest pressed to his slick back, breath ragged, lips dragging hot kisses and bites across Sebastian’s neck and shoulders. The weight of him, the sound of his voice in his ear, the steady squeeze of fingers at his throat—every part of it wound Sebastian tighter, pulling him toward that unbearable, perfect edge.
Sam’s hips moved in brutal, unforgiving rhythm, snapping forward and driving deep into Sebastian with every thrust. The bed creaked under the force, springs whining, sheets bunching where their bodies pressed together. Sam’s mouth was hot against Sebastian’s shoulder and the nape of his neck, teeth dragging lightly over soft skin, tongue teasing the curve of muscle and tendon, each kiss and bite muffling the moans that bubbled from his chest.
"Fff—uck—yes—Sam—"Sebastian gripped him like a vice—like it was made for this exact purpose.
Sam couldn’t help the low, ragged moan that vibrated through his chest, pressed against Sebastian’s shoulder, muffled as much as possible to keep their noises contained. "Feel—so—good—"
Sebastian’s fingers dug into the blanket, knuckles pale, nails biting the fabric as he tried to ground himself against the overwhelming sensation. His hips rolled instinctively with Sam’s thrusts, each push deeper, harder, driving both of them closer to a dangerous edge. He felt Sam’s weight draped fully across his back, arms tight around him, one hand curling around his throat, applying the just-right pressure to muffle the cries that threatened to escape.
Sebastian’s back arched sharply with every snap of Sam’s hips, fingers clawing at the sheets, teeth sinking into the soft fabric as his own breath stuttered in ragged gasps. His legs braced against the edge of the bed, keeping himself high, stretching to meet Sam’s relentless rhythm, coaxing him even deeper with every thrust. He couldn’t stop the keens that tore from his throat, muffled by the hand Sam kept firm around his neck, the pressure enough to ground him, to hold him in place while still allowing the sound to escape in soft, desperate bursts.
Sam’s voice came in hot, ragged whispers against his skin, punctuated with guttural groans. “Fuuuck—Seb—so perfect—taking me like this—”
Sebastian shivered. Each backward push of his hips pressed them flush together harder and sent electricity firing through both their spines. The heat pooled low in his stomach, coiling tight, threatening to unravel him with every precise, knowing movement Sam drove home.
Sam’s mouth pressed harder into Sebastian’s shoulder, teeth grazing the tender skin, lips sucking, tongue dragging in a hot, constant line across the column of his neck. Every groan, every short, breathless curse he made was absorbed into Sebastian’s skin, each movement of his hips punctuated with wet, slick friction that had Sebastian trembling in ways that were equal parts agony and release. Sam’s hand never left Sebastian’s throat, his fingers curling just enough to control, to anchor him, but not to hurt—he knew exactly how Sebastian liked it, how he needed the edge of dominance and restraint to make the intensity hit right.
“Fuck—Seb…” Sam’s voice was guttural, nearly lost against the muffling of his shoulder, but each syllable vibrated against Sebastian’s back, shaking through his spine. He leaned in, pressing every inch of himself to Sebastian, chest to spine, hips snapping harder, deeper, the friction rubbing raw in the most exquisite way. “Gods…so fucking tight—shit—Seb—"
Sebastian’s hips jerked back instinctively to meet Sam’s, pushing him in, welcoming the hard, unrelenting pressure—pain and pleasure, mind-numbing and perfect. He moaned into the sheets, letting the pleasure spill over, biting the blanket in a futile attempt to smother the sounds that threatened to escape. Every thrust Sam drove in was deliberate and punishing, but controlled, a brutal rhythm that Sebastian could ride out, that pushed him closer and closer without letting him topple.
Sam’s hand gripped tighter around Sebastian’s throat, the pressure a grounding tether that contrasted the wild frenzy of movement. His own groans were muffled into Sebastian’s skin, hot, wet sounds that vibrated against him as Sam’s free hand stroked himself, pumping slowly to keep pace with the thrusts, letting the pressure in his own length build, teasing, maddening.
Sebbitten moans tore from Sebastian, higher and sharper as he arched, pressing into Sam, taking him deeper with every backward push, and Sam rewarded him with a hiss and a growl that nearly shook the mattress. Teeth dragged over Sebastian’s shoulder again, a hot, bruising kiss as Sam angled his hips just so, eliciting a keening cry from Sebastian that made his chest tremble.
“Mine…" Seb growled against Sam's neck, eyelashes fluttering as he sucked another bruise into his pale skin. He felt Sam twitch against his hand and smirked, laving his tongue over the marks.
"Fuck—you take me so well…” Sam panted, thrusts snapping faster now, harder, but never sloppy. He gripped Sebastian’s hip like he was driving him into the mattress, holding him steady while still letting him ride every slick, deep, punishing inch. The sound of skin sliding against skin, wet, harsh breaths, ragged moans, half muffled, half uncontrolled, filled the space, drowning out the faint hum of the city outside their windows.
Sebastian’s arms braced on either side of him, gripping sheets and mattress and anything to steady himself against the violent pleasure. His back arched, and every curve, every flexed muscle pressed Sam deeper. He couldn’t stop the sharp keens, the soft cries that caught in his throat when Sam shifted angles, sliding in fully, snapping hard.
Sam’s lips trailed along the hollow of Sebastian’s shoulder, biting and sucking to mask his own cries, each one ragged and desperate. His hips hammered against Sebastian’s, dragging long, bruising strokes that made Sebastian shiver violently, press harder back, arching higher to meet every punishing thrust. Sam’s hand still gripped tight around Sebastian’s neck, grounding him as he drove them both closer, closer, the edge of heat and want so thick it was almost suffocating.
Sebastian’s keens were high and raw now, his back arching so that every muscle flexed under Sam’s weight, hips rocking with the harsh rhythm. Sam’s chest was pressed to his spine, his mouth pressed over shoulder and neck, muffling the desperate, broken moans that spilled out. The combination—the slick heat, the hard, deliberate thrusts, the grounding hand at his throat—had Sebastian teetering, every nerve screaming for release, but held just on the knife-edge by Sam’s control, teasing and merciless, the perfect storm of rough and need.
Sam’s own breathing was ragged, body trembling, each thrust pushing him closer, dragging Sebastian along with him, feeling the tight, slick grip around him, the heat and whines that rattled through his core. He whispered broken, filthy praise into Sebastian’s skin, letting the words vibrate against him, each syllable a shuddering, half-muffled confession: “That’s it, baby…so fucking good…so perfect…love it…love you…”
The two of them moved together, hips snapping, hands gripping, breaths colliding, on the edge, bodies taut, taut with the promise of release that hovered impossibly close but didn’t let go, every sense burning, every nerve alive, every movement pushing them dangerously close to shattering.
Sam’s hips stuttered violently one last time, hands gripping Sebastian’s shoulders as the tight, slick heat around him squeezed him, fluttering, over the edge.
“S-Sebby…fuck—fuck—ohgods—!” he groaned, his voice ragged, trembling with overstimulation as his release tore through him. Sebastian’s back arched under the intensity, whimpering and crying out his name as the tension coiled impossibly tight, then snapped in a rush of warmth, trembling, quivering around Sam's fist with a long, shuddering cry.
“ Sammy —fuck, fuck —gonna—Sam—!”
The room filled with the harsh, wet sounds of skin slapping against skin and ragged, gasping breaths. Sam’s hand, buried in Sebastian, moved in instinctive rhythm as their bodies pulsed together, jerking both of them through the messy, feral peak. Sebastian’s chest pressed to Sam’s, thighs shaking as he rode out the wave, long fingers digging into Sam’s arms and back, nails catching on the thin fabric of his sweatshirt.
Sam’s teeth sank briefly into Sebastian’s shoulder, muffling his own cries, while slick, hot pleasure rattled through him, spreading into his chest and stomach. He felt Sebastian shudder again, tight muscles flexing, the tremor of release coating Sam’s hand as he groaned, dragging it out, letting the heat spill into his palm.
When he pulled free, Sam wasted no time, bringing his fingers to his mouth, groaning low as he sucked the fluid from his digits, tasting himself and the evidence of Sebastian’s release, heat flushing his chest and face. He shifted, rolling onto his side to collapse fully against Sebastian, body heavy and slick against his. Lips met lips, Sam’s tongue sliding against Sebastian’s as the younger man whined and whimpered, tasting himself in Sam’s mouth. They clung together, gasping and trembling, hearts hammering and skin slick with sweat.
Sam flopped an arm over his face, breathing hard, chest rising and falling in ragged waves. “You feel better?” he asked, voice husky, warmth dripping through every syllable.
Sebastian huffed, nuzzling into the blankets, cheek pressed against the soft fabric. “Is…Alex still here?” he asked, voice low and wary, gasping for air.
Sam’s fingers brushed through Sebastian’s dark, tousled hair, carding through the strands with a gentle, almost apologetic touch. “Yup…all’s quiet. You’re alright,” he murmured, lips brushing the crown of Sebastian’s head in reassurance, lips brushing the black strands affectionately.
Sebastian’s dark eyes fluttered open, looking up at Sam. He lifted the hand closest to his face, brushing his knuckles gently across Sam’s cheek. Sam caught the hand, pressing his lips to the knuckles, holding them there a moment, blue-green eyes soft, warm, and steady, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Thanks…” Sebastian murmured, voice rough and quiet, wincing as he pushed off the bed, the lingering heat of Sam’s release running down him.
Sam chuckled softly, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to Sebastian’s lips. “It’s okay…things are gonna be okay,” he murmured against his lips, letting the softness of the moment balance the intensity of what they’d just shared.
Sebastian sighed, pressing a kiss back, voice low and muttering, “Doubtful…” He tugged his jeans back up and pulled his sweatshirt down, shoving hair from his face and moving toward the door to clean up.
Sam propped himself on his elbows, smirk curling his lips, eyes half-lidded but glinting with mischief. “Abby and Haley are coming over for a pizza party,” he said, voice teasing, letting the words hang in the charged air between them as he pushed himself up off of the bed, wriggling himself back into his jeans and tucking his dick away before fixing the button and zipper.
Sebastian groaned in response, shifting slightly, still slick and trembling from the aftermath.
“And Alex bought you one of those big-ass cookies you like,” Sam added, grin widening.
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, lips twitching in spite of himself.
Sam leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial, husky whisper, “And…when they leave, I’ll mess around with you again.”
Sebastian let out a long, exasperated sigh, but the corner of his lips twitched into a reluctant smirk. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, before closing the door behind him with a quiet click, moving off to clean himself up, the memory of Sam’s weight, heat, and voice lingering with every step.