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There’s no denying it; Pelican Town is boring. Sebastian hates the ticks of each second that grates on his nerves, the slow life, the claustrophobic festivals that his mother insists he partake in lest he be chastised for being too much of a hermit. That tangent was annoying the first three times, and he remembers the fourth so little because he simply thought of literally anything else all the while. He hates the expectation of being engaged in a community that he just knows utters questions and snarls behind his back— That Sebastian boy is so strange. He’s so antisocial. He’s a bad influence. Robin must be so disappointed. Words that are bitter, but seldom lies.
What a waste.
Sebastian takes a drag from his cigarette—it’s 8:30PM, a nippy Fall night, and the last Friday hangout of the year where Sam and Abigail won’t harass him about smoking late in only a hoodie and thin-worn jeans. The last peaceful fall Friday before the dead of Winter blankets the Valley. Frankly, Sebastian can’t wait—Summer’s too sticky and bright, too festive and loud , and it makes him want to tear his ears off and never listen to another sound again.
He gazes up at the sky; his chin is cold from the wind, but he can’t help but gaze at the stars and the way they twinkled above. The way he knows they’re dead already, but the world just can’t see it yet. Time seems slower from where he is, a speck, if even, on his planet to the stars. He wonders if he’s like the stars—he already feels dead, but the world hasn’t seen it yet. Maybe he’ll have already disintegrated by the time they see it.
“Aren’t you cold?”
The voice snaps Sebastian out of his thoughts, and the cigarette very nearly slips from between his lips. He’s lucky to have caught it before it fell, and he glares over at the source of the voice.
“Don’t fucking scare me like that, Mullner .”
Alex laughs, and Sebastian finds himself immediately captured by the sound. His annoyance all but dissipates—the laugh is like a fire in a Winter night. “Come on, babe.” Babe? “I didn’t think you were that lost. It was an honest mistake.”
“ Don’t let anyone hear you call me that .” Sebastian’s voice is a gravelly whisper. There’s a small tremble, nerves that the taller man in front of him can pick up almost instantly. Alex’s face falls slightly, and he steps closer to Sebastian.
“Somewhere more private?” he asks, and Sebastian shakes his head. Alex frowns more.
“They’ll expect me back soon.”
“Lie and say you wanted a second cigarette, then?”
Sebastian pauses—it’s not the type of lie he expects Alex to encourage, but the truth of the matter is he does actually want a second cigarette. Whatever helps him choke down the secrets, the embarrassment, the reminders of why he’s standing outside the Stardrop Saloon in the dead of night with someone he otherwise would never be caught dead speaking to. Alex, fifty feet away from his poor old grandparents’ bedroom window. Alex, just metres away from a door that anyone can walk out of at any time. Alex, in all his sunny glory, brimming with light even in the dead of night. Suddenly he remembers what made him confess to Alex in secret years ago, when he was only fourteen, and Alex fifteen, and cornered and lost in the Spirit’s Eve maze. “ Fine .”
“Ever the grouch,” Alex laughs, and he can’t see Sebastian’s eyes practically rolling in the back of his head. It’s a miracle they get along—fire and ice, oil and water… To the town, they don’t mix. But when Alex throws his arm over Sebastian’s shoulders and pulls him in close, he can feel his heart in his throat. He just fits by Alex’s side, he’s like the metal screw that’s attracted to the magnet. “C’mon. We’ll hide behind the saloon. No one ever looks over here.”
The only sound that follows is the shifting crunch of the leaves underneath them, and it’s a sound Sebastian relishes in as Alex guides him to the back of the building. He extinguishes the butt of his fizzled cigarette against the bricks, and digging into the front pocket of his jeans he pulls out a small baggie; he tucks the butt in, and stuffs it back in his pocket. Then he stops, Alex just a step ahead, and his arm slides down to Sebastian’s waist.
“I missed you.” His voice is low, and it’s directly in Sebastian’s ear. It’s a contrast, a warm flush against the chilly wind, and Sebastian feels a sort of tightness in his chest. His heart’s aflutter, and he can’t help but snake his own arms around Alex in return. The two embrace, tight and warm, and Sebastian breathes in deep; Alex smells mildly like mint and spice, and he can’t help but nestle his face into Alex’s shoulder.
Sebastian has always had a hard time responding—he’s never sure how to tell exactly how he feels when they’re apart, when, more often than not, they’re alone . Sebastian breathes and thinks static without Alex. But in the ten minute rendezvouses they’d sneak away for twice a month, the world feels still and calm. Like suddenly, Sebastian is human. “... missed you .” He’s muffled from burying his face in the fabric of Alex’s Stardew High varsity jacket, it’s always how he mutes the responses he’s too nervous to give clearly. He’s never changed—Alex has always been the braver one.
There’s silence, save for the gentle hum of the breeze around them, and in the moment it’s like they’re not even in town. Whispers of leaves, of life slowing down for just a moment for either of them. It’s a reminder of why Sebastian comes out and meets him. The fear of judgement is never there for those ten or so minutes. Sinking into the feeling of Alex around him, he forgets the fear of being discovered. And when Alex’s lips touch the top of his head and linger just a second too long, the fear floods back. Still, he doesn’t move. Alex is safe . He’s everything the town isn’t—he’s not gawking eyes or judging thoughts, and it’s easy to forget the dread of the town finding them.
“ Babe .” Alex whispers, and it pulls Sebastian back to the real world. He lifts his head, face scrunched slightly from the bitter winds touching warm skin. “Tell me how you’ve been?”
“Oh… yeah.” Sebastian smiles. He leans on Alex slightly, resting his cheek against his shoulder, and breathes him again. “Okay, I guess. There’s nothing really different. New website commissions.” Alex is warm, comfortable, and he could lay his head there forever. “Been working on my motorcycle in between programming.”
“Still trying to fix the brakes?” Alex asks. His arms tighten around Sebastian, and here comes the worry.
“Yeah. I’m sure I’ll get it back on the road in the next week or so.” Sebastian lowers his hands so that they’re resting on Alex’s hips. His hands are buried in the sleeves of his hoodie, same as always. He shifts his head to look up at Alex—those ivy green eyes that return a loving gaze make him want to vomit butterflies. Sebastian’s smile widens. “You?”
“Same old, same old,” Alex replies. It’s said with the slightest shrug and a smile. “Granny’s got a knitting project planned for Winter, though. Keeps talking to me about it, I haven’t heard her talk that much about something since she was getting ready to plant new tulips in town.”
“What’s she planning?”
“Can’t tell you.” There’s a cheeky grin on Alex’s face that makes Sebastian want to do one of two things—punch him playfully on the shoulder, or kiss him until their lips are sore. “It’s a secret. She told me to keep a tight lip, Seb. You’ll just have to wait until it’s done.” That makes it sound like it's for him.
… Why would Evelyn ever want to make something for me?
“Damn.” Is all Sebastian can respond with. He wonders if he sounds disappointed or annoyed to Alex. That Sebastian… Is he ever happy? He’s always annoyed about something. “Can’t wait to see. Your granny works wonders with those knitting needles.”
“Right? It’s almost like–” He’s cut off by another voice, one from the front of the Saloon.
“ Seb, there’s no way it’s taking you that long to finish one cancer stick .” It’s Sam. “ You out there, dude ?”
Shit . Sebastian quickly lets go of Alex—Alex is just as quick to let go. Without a word, he slinks into the bushes behind the Saloon, and Sebastian stuffs his hands back into his pockets. Make it look like you’re putting the butt in the bag. He does so, heart cold and aching for Alex’s hold again as he takes slow, awkward steps towards Sam’s voice. “Any louder and you’ll wake up the old people, Sam. Yoba.”
Sam jumps slightly—was Sebastian really that quiet coming around the corner? “Dude, you took forever, Abby and I started to think you, like, finally died and went to hell or something.” He laughs. “C’mon. It’s your turn to play against her.” Sebastian can smell it; there’s a wheaty scent to Sam’s breath, and he can tell they’d decided to have a round without him.
This is why I need to pay more attention to the time. It’s 9PM that nippy Fall night, and he knows next week it’s going to be a different conversation. Take a jacket, Seb! You look whiter than the snow. Don’t get sick, you almost died last time you did. He almost laughs at that last thought, following Sam back into the hoots of the Saloon and the heat of bodies. His mom and Demetrius were still paying that scare off. His smile fades, and he feels something tighten in his chest.
What a waste.