“  oh,  welcome home,  honey,  ”   sebastian teases loudly the second he hears the sound of a door opening  &  keys clinking together.   “  you’re back early,  ”   he yawns as he stretches from where long limbs are draped over the soft couch.   he had woken up a while ago to do errands,  had brunch with chris  &  leorio,  before he came back home to get a nap in before work started.   when sebastian squints at tadashi,  admittedly bleary-eyed,  he sits up,  albeit just a tad wobbly.   “  please tell me you bought those dumplings from the food court at the university  ?   leo said they were out when he stopped by,  but it was so cute how he thought he could lie to me about it as if he doesn’t start to pout when he does.  ”

we’ll miss you, and we’ll see you back on the dash on the 12th !

no problem, we’ll see you back on the dash on the 22nd !

“well, merry christmas to me.” kavinsky murmurs, mostly to himself. though he is, as always, expecting to have an audience. it’s rare that he doesn’t, actually, when it comes to a party he’s throwing.

making his way to miles - who looks desperately, hopelessly out of place at a party like this, surrounded by people higher than clouds, because kavinsky made them that way, because they fell on their knees at his feet and worshiped him, the way he deserved - kavinsky is a shark who smells blood in the water. poor kid.