seb + christian and terms of endearment 🥺🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️
"I want more sim time," Sebastian says without preamble. He doesn't seem bothered that the door hasn't even closed behind Mark just yet, but today must be Christian's lucky day, because he doesn't come back in.
"Well, if princess wants more sim time," Christian says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Now Sebastian does look at the door. Then he crosses the room in a few, quick steps and curls his palms over Christian's shoulder. He pushes his chair back -- Christian knew the rolling chair was a mistake, no matter if it helps with his back pain -- and when there's enough room, he plops down on Christian's lap unceremoniously. Christian is only human: he takes hold of his narrow waist, squeezes it once.
"Yes," Sebastian says, his hands warm on Christian's chest, "princess does. You gonna give it to her?"
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this is set in the go-go boys universe that @grideon and i chatficced the other day, more here.
"Ah, Seb, but you love tequila," Mick says, looking up for a mere second while he's pouring out the three shots.
"You, out of all people, should know that I like Jägermeister a lot more," Sebastian grumbles half-heartedly. "And Gold? Really?"
"Only the best for the birthday boy," Lewis says from where he's cutting up the orange. His mesh top leaves little to the imagination: all of his curves on display sans the sheer, black material. Sebastian should be used to it by now. He really isn't.
Mick takes his hand and licks a broad stripe at the webbing of skin between his thumb and his index finger. "Hey," Sebastian says, doing his best to ignore the hot clench of his stomach, but Mick is already doing the same to his own hand, sprinkling cinnamon on them.
"To the best birthday you've ever had," Lewis says, and if Sebastian can't decide if it's a threat or a promise, well. He has all night to find out.
SebMick + “I think we should think about getting married, for the tax benefits.”
Sebastian puts down his iPad with a soft thud, wedges it between a half-empty plate and his glass of orange juice. His gaze on Mick is insistent; Mick feels the nape of his neck flush with heat.
"I think," Sebastian says slowly, "that neither of us needs a tax cut. And it's an investment in the country we live in. Education. Healthcare. You know."
Mick swallows the lump in his throat and nods. Well. He tried, at least. What they have is more than enough: Sebastian's ankle pressed against his, the space they carved out in each other's life over the past years. He doesn't need a piece of paper to prove that it's real, that it'll last.
Reaching for the tablet, Sebastian licks his lips.
"I also think that you should ask me for the real reason," he adds, his blue eyes flickering up from the screen, the rosy tint on his cheeks almost shy.
me unearthing a prompt from literally two months ago because i'm in the mood to write something in the SoW au? it's more likely than you think. i had a long conversation with @antimonyandthyme today about this and it just begged to be written down.
A jubilee feast, however unnecessarily fanciful, is also an occasion to open the castle, to hand out gifts and blessings for young parents, should they wish so. And they are not without entertainment, this year, either. Heikki has trained promising youngsters for the archery competition. It was marvelous to see one of them victorious – Sebastian will have to ask if he would want to become a squire. And of course, the highlight of the day: Kimi and Rocky have outdone themselves with the sparring tournament, the crowd ecstatic to see the swirling blades, their screams of delight louder than the colliding swords.
It is no surprise that Mick has claimed victory and thus the seat at Sebastian’s table at the evening feast. With the free flow of wine and good conversation, old friends making the journey to the castle, Sebastian feels a warm glow spreading in his chest.
When Britta retires for the evening, citing that she’s had quite enough of Sebastian’s anecdotes that she must have heard a hundred times by now, Mick is quick to take the chair she’s just vacated.
“May I?” he asks, curling his hands around the intricate carvings of the backrest.
Sebastian waves at him lazily. “It would be my pleasure,” he says, quiet enough that Mick knows that it was intended for his ears mostly.
Mick sits. He places his goblet on the table again, tracing the stem of it with an idle finger.
“Are you enjoying yourself, your Majesty?” he asks.
“Quite,” Sebastian hums. The blood in his veins has turned syrupy. “Yet I seem to remember to have told you to call me Sebastian.”
The tiny hitch in Mick’s breath is exhilarating. Mick swallows and tilts his head, sweeping his eyes through the guests at the table. Sebastian need not bother. He can feel the weight of Kimi’s gaze, has felt it ever since he clasped Mick’s hand after his victory.
“Not in company, though,” Mick says, leaning in closer to avoid being overheard. “Your majesty,” he adds, and now it must be deliberate, because Sebastian can feel the warm puff of his breath on his cheek.
galex vs. one ikea dining table (i'm um actually myself: this is not a sentence)
George closes the manual with the familiar warmth of satisfaction in his chest. Alex has wandered in a minute ago, plopped himself down on the floor next to George, half-leaning against a pillow. Now he's all hunched down, the curve of his back absolutely criminal. George strokes a gentle hand from his flank to his nape.
"Whatchu doing there?" he asks, hooking his chin over Alex's shoulder. Then his mouth drops open. "Alex!"
"What?" Alex turns his head, presses a quick kiss to George's cheek, leaving him spluttering. "I'm helping, obviously."
George almost snatches the screwdriver from his hand.
"That," he says through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice pleasant, "will be step 8, Alex, thank you very much--"
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crying at the thought of mick and seb making plans to drive up by themselves and norbert and corinna scrambling to get their bags together in an attempt to cockblock
anon this is FASCINATING. i'm picturing seb and mick in the front and then norbert and corinna in the back, dozing off and snoring and then seb and mick quietly stealing glances at each other... rooming with their respective parents? but tell me 1) why corinna and norbert are cockblocking them 2) how they realized Something Was Going on
sewis + "what did you just say?" (thank you miss rosy!!)
Sebastian's laughter is still slightly distorted, but the service is better on the balcony. Lewis closes the door behind him, his niece's giggles and the easy conversation more of a muffled background noise now.
"I said, when you've had enough of the French acting like speaking English is a personal offense to their entire nation, you can come visit me."
"Seb, man, I hate to break it to you, but you live in Switzerland," Lewis says with a snort.
"In a German canton," Sebastian says, his tone almost offended. Lewis can't help but laugh.
"It has barely been a month, man," Lewis tells him, something warm blooming in his chest. "Growing restless already?"
Sebastian's hum is non-committal.
"Maybe some things I miss more than I anticipated," he says. He sounds normal, mostly -- Lewis imagines how he must look, all blue eyes and biting his lip.
i need u to know i think about worked the blade every single day. i have never been so obsessed with a fic before. i think if u ever posted more of it id explode. love u sm
anon this is so nice of you to say and i'm also obsessed with that fic sadly, entertaining myself with little headcanons and zoning out day to day :( i have like 2k written from the next chapter and i have a very clear outline for the story, so sooner or later it should happen! i just haven't really been in a writing mood in this fresh new hell year. but i can give you a lil teaser!
Seb runs a hand through his hair for the last time and opens the door: wind and cold sweeping into the house immediately. Mick jogs up to the porch, leaving clear footprints in the fresh snow.
“Hey,” Mick says again, stopping right at the doorstep. He’s flushed pink from the cold, smiling so hard the slight dimple etched in his right cheek is visible. Seb wants to trace it with his thumb.
“Hi,” he says instead.
“I got you some soup, in case you’re still sick,” Mick lifts the bag he’s holding. Seb blinks at him. Oh, right. He told Mick he was feeling under the weather – he had enough of a headache that it was true – when Mick asked if he wanted to meet up a few days ago.
