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“This is quite juvenile.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Isabela responded to Sebastian’s conspiratorial whisper, lost to others under the layers of mindless pop music, lounging with an arm about his shoulders. “That’s because so is our gracious host.”
Across the circle they had formed on the penthouse’s sleek black carpets and leather couches sat their fellow student. Bennett had a bottle of rosé all to himself—there were multiples of everything, just free for the taking—and clapped with each spin of the bottle. “Do you know the Cousland personally?”
Sebastian had only noticed Bennett at the sidelines of Archery Club practices, lavishing attention on Nathaniel, their other best archer. Varric could be up there with Nathaniel and Sebastian if he hadn’t been banned from competing under... mysterious circumstances.
“I got to know sweet Bennie very personally that fateful night during our first year.” As Isabela smiled feline around her beer, pandemonium broke out in the circle when Anders and Nathaniel returned from their seven minutes in some dark corner of the youngest Cousland's residence. Bennett batted his eyelashes in excited anticipation.
Slapping her on the arm, Sebastian huffed without any real venom, “Oh, you are just incorrigible!”
Over their private conversation and his own ale, Sebastian managed to catch Anders lamenting that he tried to talk Nathaniel’s ear off so that he would leave early and lose—was this even a competition? Had the rules changed with age?—but Nathaniel didn’t bite. That gave him context for why everyone went wild when Nathaniel remained standing, stoic as he pleased, and removed two unforeseen earplugs.
“Sadly, that ship has sailed,” the woman sighed, angling her head to Bennett laughing and throwing his arms around the Howe to capture him in kisses. “Zev was there too, and even he’s tied down now. With that Fereldan hunk of beef.”
Sebastian arched an eyebrow in the direction of Cullen, who sat cross-legged between Varric and Leliana, and in front of the door to the kitchen. His face pulled sour, and had not let up for the entire night, save for when the redhead glanced back at him. When she was busy gossiping with Bennett, Cullen just sat and fiddled with his fingers and tugged at his flannel.
“The other one. That one’s straight.” Seamlessly avoiding a spill on her white corset top, Isabela stole a long swig. “Confusing, I know. On both accounts.”
“Choir Boy, Rivaini, you still with us?”
Sebastian bounced over the supposedly derogatory nickname, as he simply associated it with one of his first interactions with Isabela, during a drinking game at a party hosted by a much less reputable source than a trust fund baby living rent-free that just really enjoyed having company.
“I thought you said you went to an Andrastian school.”
“Exactly.”
“Certainly!” he chirped presently.
“As front and center as your chest hair, Varric,” Isabela shouted back. Background nose came in the form of Leliana and Bennett holding hands excitedly and garbling, wine-drunk, about all of the things that they would do to Cullen’s hair.
“Hey, this shirt shrunk in the wash.” Varric winked, and they toasted in midair. “Pay attention, in case it’s your turn to make a poor sod lose his lunch.”
She purred, “As long as he loses something else, too.”
Rolling his eyes, Varric leaned forward to spin the empty beer bottle in the center, almost as if an afterthought. Sebastian sipped at his own drink until its mouth slowed, and the glass arbiter scanned Varric’s side of the circle. Everyone gathered sucked in air as the bottle passed its spinner and finally sat motionless, pointing accusatory at the Fereldan. Not Zevran’s Fereldan.
Varric stifled his own bubbling guffaws by half-coughing into a fist. “Sorry, Curly.”
“Maker’s breath,” Cullen mumbled over the well-meaning cheers of the crowd, burying his face in his hands. Sebastian watched as Leliana turned from the Cousland to pat Cullen’s shoulder. Sebastian couldn’t be privy to their conversation over Isabela’s doubled-over cackles, and his vision might have been failing him, but it looked as if Cullen flushed red all the way to his ears and knuckles. “I trusted you, dwarf.”
“That was your first mistake. And one you’ll have to make again, since I make the story here.” Without acknowledging Cullen glaring through his fingers, Varric whipped the bottle around once more. All of the students leaned in until a few toppled over, bright eyes brimming with anticipation. Leliana watched the center with her own special intensity.
Sebastian found himself the victim of her scrutiny when the bottle’s mouth stretched endlessly in his direction.
His first instinct was to reach for his ale once more, but Isabela slapped him on the back with surprising force. Varric wolf whistled, and Anders acted as if he would puke. After clearing his throat, Sebastian conceded by holding his palms up with a sly grin. “Well, now, what have we here?”
Given the chance to finish off his ale, Sebastian downed the last quarter easily, and reached a hand out to Isabela. “If you would.” She relinquished her beer with a knowing smile, and Sebastian completed that one as well—with only the hint of a grimace, only at the taste. Handing both empty drinks to her, he continued, “Thank you, love. I’ll owe you when I return, but I can’t keep my adoring fans waiting.”
“If you have enough dignity to show your face after he rejects you,” Isabela teased. “He’s straight, remember I said, sweet thing.”
“Famous last words!” Sebastian winked. Jumping to his feet during another round of drunken cheers, he crossed the lopsided circle to bow and offer a gallant hand to Cullen, who still sat with slumped shoulders.
Leliana had one cutting eyebrow raised, so Sebastian glanced at Varric tugging on Cullen’s arm instead. “Come on, Curly. Even if it’s with Choir Boy, just seven minutes won’t kill you.”
He grumbled, “No, but something else might.” And yet, he took Sebastian’s hand all the same.
Perhaps Isabela was a nonbeliever, a pessimist, but Sebastian considered himself an expert. In another flourish, he raised their conjoined hands to kiss Cullen’s knuckles with another wink.
Yes, the Fereldan most certainly blushed everywhere.
And there certainly came more screamed encouragements, even a long awww from the Cousland, but Sebastian was focused now. He moved to pull Cullen along with him, but the man must have been denser than his baggy flannel and cargo shorts let on, so Sebastian came close to tipping back. Catching himself and flashing a brilliant smile, Cullen blinked owlishly before scurrying to follow.
“Yes, it will just end the bloke if any of you eavesdrop. It may just be in your best interest not to, as well,” Sebastian singsonged. He gave one final wave to Isabela, and her jaunty laugh danced them all of the way around the corner.
That had been one of the rules they had established in the beginning, but Sebastian found it prudent to remind the other students. Cullen’s hand almost slipped from his own, and Cullen had not been holding a cold drink.
Wall-length and paneless windows lined this hallway, which seemed to Sebastian a staple of the upper crust’s buildings. Perhaps it was for the ease and satisfaction of throwing the unlucky and useless souls out of them. When he turned back to Cullen, silent thus far, the man ran his other hand along the glass and stared out at the cold white lights from the expensive quarter of the city and looked down along the building.
A utility closet’s door stood ajar, so Sebastian slid them in there. An assuming little square of a room, it would still fit two. He released Cullen’s hand when the man stopped dead just outside and threatened to pull Sebastian back again. After a disjointed gasp, the Fereldan shuffled inside while looking away.
Sebastian closed the black door behind them with a click of finality.
“So, Cullen,” he hummed. Pulling on the string for the overhead bulb, Sebastian mused on how terrible this lighting was for him. For anyone, really, but he had a man as skittish as a newborn fawn to impress. Now, he could see the sweat on his hand that was not his own, and he tried to discreetly wipe it on his slacks that were not as expensive as he pretended. “Would it be such a terrible thing to spend some alone time with me?”
The other man directed quickening amber eyes at both walls, as if he couldn’t tell which one to focus on, but both were the exact same. The same immaculate white walls as the rest of the penthouse, with silver shelves stocked with almost next to nothing. Likely a cleaning company did everything with their own supplies. Finally, he settled on Sebastian with his lips spread wan. “You know my name? My real name?”
“...Should I not? We do have mutual friends, after all,” Sebastian explained, tilting his head. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to set a timer for seven minutes. They had probably wasted a minute already, but Sebastian was nothing if not a man of his word. Such an arbitrary number, unless the Maker was a fan of rhymes and puns.
“Oh, you don’t, uh, have to do that. I have—”
Raising his gaze, Cullen pointed to a traditional leather wristwatch.
“Of course you do.” Sebastian’s lips curled. Then, he forced them into a puerile frown. “Mere backup, I suppose. Are you really so eager to be rid of me on time?”
“M—Maker, no, nothing like that.” Before Sebastian could delve into that, Cullen scratched at the back of his neck and continued, “I… hope you don’t count that Hawke as one of m…m—my friends.”
“Mm, Garrett does have a few choice words for you, but none included how devastatingly handsome you are,” Sebastian said around a sunny smile. Really, he missed all of these delicate details from the opposite side of the circle, eyes like two gold coins and burgeoning stubble at just the right stage. He assumed Zevran would have bagged the better Fereldan, but Sebastian had more than plenty to work with here.
“Oh— I, well, thank you.” Cullen cleared his throat. “But honestly, it all started with that stupid game of beer pong. That game which I did not cheat at.”
Giving Cullen another once-over, Sebastian sincerely doubted the man knew how.
“I believe you,” Sebastian said instead. He sidled up to Cullen and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “But you’re more than encouraged to be a bit dishonest right now.”
“I… That is—”
When Cullen’s arm fell, Sebastian replaced it with his own slung about the man’s broad shoulders, bringing in a waft of sharp sandalwood cologne. Though gel held Cullen’s hair swept back, on the way, Sebastian noticed that the later curls had become undone and plastered to his neck. “Are you quite certain that you’re alright?”
“What? I’m f—fine.” Cullen jumped under his arm and blinked at Sebastian. “But, uh, you and I—I—Isabela. I thought...”
“Oh! We’re just the best of friends,” Sebastian chuckled, though his lips returned to pursed as he eyed Cullen’s taut frame. “We posture, but unfortunately, she isn’t to my tastes.”
Sebastian inwardly doubted that they would act so close if they were in a relationship. He had not yet tested the theory, but that was half of the problem, was it not? It had been too long for him to begin seriously, and voices that sounded similar to and yet were not his own said that was as it should be, and by his own fault.
“Oh, uh, Leli is like that, I g...g—guess. She insists I need to g… need to leave the apartment more, drags me to these.” Though Cullen cleared his throat, it sounded unsuccessful, and the speed of his words only escalated. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse than Josie m—making me go with her to go f… fun nights at the student union. It’s always bingo.”
Although the second name was unfamiliar, that was the last of Sebastian’s questions. When he only creased his brow, Cullen averted his gaze to the walls once more. “So, your tastes…?”
Sighing, Sebastian disentangled himself and stepped back a meter. He crossed his arms in front of his chest while considering the fact that his past could be correct. He had hoped to sate his curiosity before addressing the obvious problem, clear as crystal. Even now he thought of himself while leaving Cullen in silence. Sebastian slapped himself on the wrist and stood straight.
“Are fairly self-explanatory, but they hardly matter in this moment in time,” Sebastian finished. Softening the edges of his accent, he pleaded, “If you would please tell me what is going on?”
“I—it’s nothing,” Cullen said far too quickly for it to be nothing.
“It’s quite obviously something.” Though guilt existed in the act, Sebastian stepped forward to test another curiosity and lifted Cullen’s arm. “Maker, you are shaking!”
The other man looked at his vibrating hand bitterly, as if it had broken some agreement they had made. “Oh, that happens sometimes. I...i—it’s nothing, really.”
“What kind of fool do you take me for?” Sebastian huffed. When he released Cullen, Cullen simply caught his forearm in a vice grip instead. Blinking at the oddity, Sebastian willed himself to relax— at least one of them had to remain calm. “Cullen, all of that was said in jest. We can honestly just sit here for five or so minutes, if that is what you would prefer, and none will be the wiser.”
“No, that’s, uh, not the problem.”
Sebastian raised his eyebrows, but he motioned for Cullen to continue.
“I—well, that is—I might have a f… I dislike small spaces.”
Sebastian slapped his forehead with his free arm, and the echo was enough to rattle the shelves.
“I’m sorry. It’s… M—Maker, it’s stupid.” Cullen shook his head and screwed his eyes shut.
The other man looked up through his fingers, his words coming out in a wheeze. “What did you do on the elevator?”
“Just stood behind everyone else and pretended i—it was okay,” Cullen muttered, looking like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. “If I… Taking the stairs m...m—means people would…”
“No, I’m stupid, and that was a stupid question,” Sebastian said quickly. And in that moment, he made up his mind and inhaled the largest breath of his life. “I’m sorry. I understand.”
Patting the back of Cullen’s hand, Sebastian turned to whisper, “I’m here. I’ll still be here if you let go. May I?”
It took a moment for Cullen to nod stiffly, then extract his hold on Sebastian. He gave a downcast glance to the wrinkled sleeve, but it didn’t even register to Sebastian as he upheaved the unopened box of a vacuum—most likely a housewarming gift from those who didn’t understand, he thought dourly—and laid it across the floor.
“Sit here for me?”
Cullen nodded faster and perched gingerly on the long white box.
Sebastian himself pressed an ear against the door. He was a little too skilled at finding hidden spaces and sneaking around, home or otherwise. With a glance at his phone, he saw that they had the majority of the time left, the artificially bright numbers mocking his attempt. He flipped it face-down on the shelf with a harrumph.
Not that anyone in the living room was sober enough to be keeping track of time, but they were also close enough to hear the door open, as someone had turned the pop music down. He couldn’t move Cullen to a better room without questions asked. Perhaps both would only reinforce the poor man’s fears, anyway.
Sebastian spared a glance for the doorknob. He couldn’t say that he didn’t share in some of the same.
Finally, he asked softly, “Lights off, Cullen?”
“Yes...?”
“Good, good. You’re allowed to change your mind.” Sebastian tugged on its chain before moving back to the door. Right, they could pretend to be anywhere now. He had to feel around for it in the darkness, but he wriggled the knob loudly and pushed open the door just a hair. A sickly sliver of light followed to the sight of Cullen’s knuckles whitening on his knee. “...Remember, the door's unlocked.”
“Ah, right.”
“Touch?”
“That’s f— good.”
Nodding, Sebastian stepped forward with care until his foot nudged the box. He then kneeled in place.
“I’m here with you, and nothing adverse has happened to me,” he reminded Cullen, keeping his voice low and sweet. Sebastian lifted the arm that he remembered having the wristwatch. “We’ll be out of here very soon. Why don’t we focus on this?”
“That’s why I—I…”
“I know,” Sebastian hushed Cullen. He himself paid more attention to the clock in school than anything the lay sisters were demanding of them. “Just relax for me. Let’s say four seconds each, hm?”
To get Cullen to breathe in and out on count, Sebastian first had to realize he had been holding his breath himself. When he cleared his throat painfully, Cullen gripped the hand that held up his wrist. He somehow found Sebastian’s other one in the pitch black, bringing them closer together. Sebastian let it happen with a mind to track Cullen’s trembling.
And if the Fereldan’s muscles eventually relaxed enough to intertwine their fingers, well, it was dark.
Sebastian continued the timed breaths with a level of patience that caused him to blink at himself. He murmured affirmations, though he could not be asked to repeat them, his brain running wild and cycling through other calming techniques he could employ.
But, by that time, the ticking of the watch finally overtook Cullen’s labored breaths, and Sebastian began to sweat at his temples instead. Cullen’s fingernails had not dug into his hands for a while now. And at that, a small voice pierced their delicate position.
“Sebastian?”
“Yes, love?” He tried not to answer too fast, and ended up biting his tongue anyway.
“Can you, uh, talk more?”
“....Certainly.” Sebastian’s lips parted, as something that simple had not crossed his mind. He just as quickly scrambled for conversation, settling on anything Cullen could respond to. It just so happened to be outdoors. “You are—you are on the baseball team, are you not?”
“Yes. How did you…?” Cullen stammered.
“Honestly, do you consider yourself the university ghost?” He knew what it meant to be ignored, and Leliana always had one eye on Cullen while socializing. Well, that was the problem with people’s heads, he supposed. while After a weary smile, Sebastian finished, “We heard there would be beer, so we went to one of the very first home games this year.”
When the hands around his own began to shake again, Sebastian sprang up to sit on his haunches. He could just make out the movement of Cullen’s shoulders, which was loose and in… laughter. “I—I’ve never had it. They said it tastes like piss.”
“Well, doesn’t all beer?” Closing his eyes and smiling serenely, Sebastian relaxed on the floor. “But good. That’s good.”
Cullen’s genuine blush could be felt by the thumb Sebastian ran along the back of his hand.
“We underestimated just how many people would be there, so Fenris was right cross with us,” Sebastian continued as normal as he could. His heart rate was not panicked, but it was not resting, either. “That is, until the Mabari mascot shot him a free t-shirt…”
And if they missed the phone’s alarm entirely, that was nobody’s business but their own.
“And so the lovebirds have flown back to us!”
As soon as they returned to the living room, Varric was on them. One hand had remained connected even after they left the utility closet, and they were forced to drop it. Their fingers caught and dangled as they returned to their seats across the circle.
“Tell me the story so I can put it in the school newspaper, Choir Boy,” Varric demanded with a wink.
“There's not a story to tell, eejit.” Isabela still reclined in both of their spots, so Sebastian just lied on her with a dramatic hand on his forehead. “He simply resisted my advances, down to the last.”
Isabela patted his back in commiseration. “Did you do that thing with your tongue?”
“We didn’t even get that far, old friend,” Sebastian faux sniffled.
“Curly, what are we going to do with you?” came Varric’s barking laughter. Peeling one sapphire eye open, Sebastian noticed Cullen staring slack-jawed in his direction. He blinked and shook his now entirely undone curls before glaring at Varric and giving the dwarf a playful shove.
“Poor thing,” Isabela hummed. “You know you can always drown your sorrows in my room. Speaking of.”
She held up a brand new bottle of wine for the both of them. As Sebastian busied himself with a very, extremely long drink of the red, Isabela and Leliana’s curious glances at each other caught his eye. Isabela gave the slightest of nods.
Sebastian swallowed—and drank again.
“Maybe you left those other gossips in the dark, but you owe me an explanation, sweet thing.”
Isabela’s outline, complete with her smirk, came into view with each street lamp they passed under. They skirted the city park on their way back to their relative apartments. And in a relatively straight line, at that, since alcohol would only affect them once the Void froze over or the Maker returned—whichever one, in whatever order, or both, since they weren’t picky.
Sebastian rolled his eyes when the pair were in the safety of the pre-dawn darkness. “I told the truth, as always. We didn’t kiss.”
“Oh, you went straight into pudding your peach, no kissing required, did you?” Leaning in suggestively, Isabela continued, “You did something , because he was sweating like a whore in the Chantry when you got out of there. Or a Fereldan in Antiva. I can never decide. That one might be too topical right now, though.”
“Relax, you daft cunt,” Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. “Perhaps it was because I led the poor bloke through a panic attack.”
An unfortunate time to take a sip, as Isabela began to hack it all up immediately. She wheezed, “ No . Over the prospect of kissing all men, or just you? The latter, I understand.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter for just one second, and then we can put it back there all we like,” he pinched her side. “But no, Cullen said that wasn’t the issue.”
Isabela’s eyebrows formed the same suspicious shape that Sebastian’s had.
“I am fairly certain that he has claustrophobia.”
“Aw, Andraste’s tits. And what did you do with him?” Covering her mouth, Isabela coughed a bit longer, which Sebastian surmised were little more than cleverly disguised chuckles.
Sebastian sighed in exasperation as they rounded a street corner. “What else? I talked him through it, held his hands. For so long. It’s one of Andraste’s miracles that my hands still function.”
“Heh, you could s—”
“Give me that.” Though he was normally a fan, Sebastian snatched the bottle from her before Isabela could finish whatever filthy joke she had brewing.
She said instead, “So, you’re growing religious on me again?”
“What would you have me do instead?” He huffed after taking a swig of his own, glancing at the glass in his hand. “Oh, and please and thank you. But really, should I have fuckin’ kicked the lad while he was already down? Tell 'im scary stories?”
“Ah, I see. You’re simply growing soft.” As they waited to cross traffic under the lamppost, Isabela’s lips curled exposingly in the same vein as the cat that got the cream. “And mind your brogue when you get emotional. I only just learned how to understand Sebastian two drinks in.”
Sebastian waved a dismissive hand. “Since Cullen agreed to the fool’s game in the first place, I imagine that he isn’t the type to talk about it.” Yes, the white lie cost Sebastian his reputation and winning streak, but that realization was for another day, when Isabela couldn’t accost him still.
“Hm.” When she went for the wine, Sebastian unclenched a hand he didn’t realize was doing so. “I know a few of those.”
“And just what's that supposed to mean?” Bunching his shoulders, he jumped onto the mostly empty road, though it was not their time yet.
“Whatever you think it does, sweet thing,” Isabela sauntered beside him. Though they could hardly see each other again, there did come Isabela’s buzzing hum. “Only, don’t leave me alone so soon after Fenris swatted us like flies in favor of Garrett.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “We saw Fenris just yesterday.”
“You know what I mean,” Isabela singsonged dramatically, throwing an arm about Sebastian’s shoulders.
Wrangled into leaning down to meet the shorter woman, Sebastian patted the bronze hand on him. “You have Merrill anyway, ya big hypocrite. Though lying is a sin, I still love you.”
“The least of my sins, anyway,” Isabela laughed heartily. They had begun to walk slower when intertwined, and the spiteful glance of the last stopped driver still burned Sebastian’s back. Mind you, it was welcome, as the crisp night froze in comparison to a closet with Cullen. He idly wondered if the man still made his use as a furnace when he wasn’t so… well, panicked. “—And yes, we do have Kitten for an in to all the Garden Club parties.”
At least he caught some of the conversation, Sebastian thought, sweating himself. He muttered, “Put a bit of whisky in the tea to pass the time.”
“Now, there’s an idea,” Isabela purred as they stumbled into their complex, eventually disentangling themselves. “Maybe even a male friend to make it even quicker?”
“Why are you still on about that, ya numpty?” He held a hand up against the egg-yellow artificial lighting, facing more than one oncoming headache.
“You’re the one filling in the gaps, sweet Sebastian.” That sounded sexual too, somehow. He fought the urge to press his face against the soulless linoleum floor. “But if you insist, I bet Cullen will be at your doorstep with an anxious apology and a fruit basket at daybreak.”
Where would he get fresh fruit at this hour, and why was that Sebastian’s only objection to that statement? He did lean against the cool metal of the elevator doors. As they closed, so too did Sebastian’s eyes. “I’ll not take that wager—no' after our last. You’ll rob me blind.”
“And you, me.” There came a supportive slap on Sebastian’s back—if a slap could even be called such, and Isabela’s could—and the rest of the bottle.
Sebastian almost broke into hysterics as the doors opened under him, and he tripped onto their floor, bringing Isabela with him. “Now that, I can bet on.”
He should have taken the bet. After all, Cullen did only get his number from Nathaniel and call.