#baldfic

Gone are the soft, sandy curls that fell across his forehead, replaced by a shorter cut that exposes more of his scalp.

Charles breathes in sharply. Sebastian’s face moves through surprise quickly, and then he just looks at him, appraising.

“It’s that bad, is it?” 

“No, not bad,” Charles says, shaking his head. He looks disarmingly earnest. “Different.” 

Sebastian snorts at that, already turning away. Something tugs at Charles’s insides, and he stumbles forward. “No, I mean it.”

“Ten years,” Sebastian says, the corners of his mouth twitching into a wry smile. It’s as close to self-deprecating as he’ll allow himself to get.

“I don’t care.” Charles’s expression goes soft. “You know that.”

It’s not insurmountable, not if they don’t let it be. 

Sebastian’s still clutching his cap, idly tracing a finger across the familiar 5 on the brim, but he’s facing him now, so at least there’s that. In a rush of—affection, maybe—Charles moves closer, and closer still, until he’s close enough to gently pry the cap from Sebastian’s hands, setting it aside. 

He wants to tell him that everything about whatever it is they are is weird and unconventional, but he’s trying, and this new development isn’t going to deter him; that he can’t even wrap his head around what Sebastian is feeling in those places he won’t let him touch, but he’s still here, if Sebastian wants him there. By comparison, this feels like a bigger deal than it actually is. Maybe that’s a symptom of love.

“You’re still you,” Charles murmurs, lets it be warm. “This doesn’t change anything. I’ll still—” he pauses, licks his lips, “—I still want you.” 

They hadn’t seen much of each other over winter break; it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. But now that they’re standing here, close enough for Charles to feel the warmth radiating off Sebastian’s body, he can’t help himself. 

He leans in and very deliberately kisses Sebastian’s forehead, his temple, the line of his jaw. His hands come up, into Sebastian’s short hair, his thumb fitting snugly behind his ear.

“You’re beautiful,” Charles says. “Did you know that?”

The crazy thing is, he looks like he means it, every word. Sebastian doesn’t know what to do with him sometimes, when he gets like this. 

He scoffs, his mouth feeling too dry for actual words. A fond smile curves his lips, the one he seems to reserve just for Charles.

“Better than last year’s,” Sebastian comments, trailing his fingers down the tricolore stripe running along the side of Charles’s race suit, all the way down to his thigh. 

“Different,” Charles hums. “But I’ll get used to it.”