#deadpoets

Wanting to was putting it a little strongly, but Mark strode in, dragging the full weight of his disappointment along with him. It seemed to spread out and fill the room like noxious gas as soon as Sebastian closed the door. Mark wondered if they were both suffocating with it.

Probably not. Probably Sebastian was still on cloud nine.

"Honestly I thought you'd have a bit of a party going already, or I might have found something to toast."

Sebastian's eyes lit up at once. "Oh, I have some brandy. It's German, very good."

He leapt immediately at the opportunity to scrounge around, combing through his bags in search of a bottle as Mark chuckled in surprise. "That's not your usual drink."

"Well, no, but I remembered you like it." He faltered, and cast Mark this slightly worried look in the midst of opening the bottle. If Mark didn't feel like he was choking on his disappointment before, it overwhelmed him now as he saw a flash of a different world where he had a title, and Sebastian was a good sport about it, to the point that he'd planned ahead and gotten Mark--

Mark hadn't gotten Seb anything. It didn't seem real that he might need to. For a moment, he felt ashamed about it—but then he watched Sebastian pour the last vestiges of his championship hopes into disposable cups, and he decided they were even.

"To the youngest ever champion," Mark said, drily.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and said, "Shut up," even as he clinked their cups together.

They both drank. Sebastian was right: it was very good. Mark allowed the taste to saturate his tongue for a moment before saying, "Congratulations, Seb. Honestly. You deserve it."

As was always the case when Mark complimented him – because he did not do it often, at least not so emphatically – Sebastian seemed almost to glow as he asked, "Do you think so?"

If Mark didn't like this kid so much, he would hate him. For a moment, he hated him anyway. "Fuck off, you know I do."

"Yeah." Sebastian's expression went thoughtful. "You would have deserved it too."

Mark felt his brow crumple, and his voice came out more fragile than he meant it to. "Do you think so?"

Sebastian's gaze flickered across Mark's features. He swallowed at something he saw there, his Adam's apple shifting visibly. "Yes. And surely I know better than anyone, don't I?"

Something inarticulable coursed through Mark, intertwining with his failure and threatening to subsume it. He'd thought a lot about how this moment would go, when he expected things to be the other way around. He hadn't imagined any gifts, but Sebastian telling him you deserve it... Mark would be lying, if he claimed that he hadn't wished for that.

They were never just talking about the championship.

They weren't just talking about the championship now.

So Mark thought—if he couldn't have the thing he wanted most in the world--

He ducked down and kissed Seb hard, clutching so tightly to his jaw that his fingers hurt. And Seb moaned. Seb let him, opening his mouth to Mark's tongue as he pressed inside. He tasted sweet, like that very good German brandy but like rose water, too, and Mark chased it hungrily. Desperately.