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He’s six; his mother disappears. He’s seventeen; his entire world crumbles. He’s twenty-one; he graduates law school on his own merit. He’s twenty-seven and he’s kissed for the first time.
The first time he meets Hugh O’Conner, he doesn’t think much of him. It’s rare that Sebastian attends Prosecutor Gavin’s parties, and he didn’t plan on being here tonight. He just happened to choose the worst time to come and collect that paperwork. Now, here he is, backed into a corner, arms folded across his chest, red cup perched awkwardly in his gloved hand. He does not suit this environment, not one bit. The music is too loud, the lights hurt his eyes, and he’d much rather be in bed at this time of night. He would be much more comfortable in his own home, perhaps with his violin or his flute. He knows Kay, his beloved roommate, is somewhere in this crowd, so he would have the flat to himself. Yes, it would have been a lovely night, but here he is instead.
It’s not that he dislikes Prosecutor Gavin, quite the opposite! The two have formed quite a bond over the years, one that Sebastian is grateful for. They are both Themis alumni, and during their time together at school, they had grown quite fond of each other. Klavier is loud, extroverted, confident, and everything Sebastian needed during his school life. Without the pop star to take him under his wing, Themis Legal Academy would have been a much longer and infuriating process. Hmm. Perhaps attending this rowdy celebration is the least he owes his dear companion.
It’s whilst he’s contemplating his history that O’Conner approaches him. He’s dressed smartly, too smartly for the debaucherous atmosphere of Prosecutor Gavin’s penthouse suit, but that makes him a kindred spirit. Sebastian is thankful for the solidarity, he was beginning to feel like a sore thumb in his tailcoat. He recognises the attorney badge pinned to the other man’s lapel, and waves. His eyes are stern, framed by a pair of circular glasses, complimented by a confident smirk. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these before.” His voice is perfectly controlled, not an ounce of hesitation.
“It’s not my crowd.” Sebastian tries to match his tone, standing up a little straighter. “Forgive me for assuming, but it doesn’t seem like quite yours either.”
He laughs, it’s a rich sound, confident too. “It’s not, you’re right. How astute of you. Friend of a friend of a friend of the hosts. They always drag me around with them like a ragdoll, if nothing else to be a designated driver.” He leans against Sebastian’s wall, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t mind it, not really. It means someone’s keeping an eye on them, and a keen eye at that. I can guarantee that there is no better guardian for them than me.”
“I trust your confidence then.” Sebastian finds himself lost in the other man’s features. Staring at the way he pronounces each syllable with nothing but tenderness in his voice. “May I ask who you’re with?” It must be someone special, considering the lilting tone the attorney chooses.
“You’re a prosecutor, have you met Miss Newman?”
“Oh,” He winces, he didn’t make the best first impression. He never does. “Yes, the new intern, right?”
“And a long time dear friend of mine.” There’s a sense of pride in his voice, one Sebastian almost envies, in a strange way.
“Is it just the two of you?”
“No, no. I just assumed that, of my companions, she would be the only familiar name to you. Why mention the others? I don’t wish to confuse your small mind.”
“I suppose that makes sense.” Sebastian bites his tongue, looking down at his shoes. “If we’re talking about names, may I have yours?” His mind isn’t small.
“Hugh O’Conner, Attorney at Law. An honour to meet you.”
“And I you. Prosecutor Debeste, at your service.”
That’s all there really is to their first meeting. They spend the rest of the night, to Sebastian’s surprise, entrapped in conversation. He cannot remember the last time he felt so… connected to a complete stranger. They only detach when Kay needs an escort home, and Sebastian falls into the role of her guardian all too easily. As they walk home, her arm slinged around his shoulders, his hand around her waist, she briefly asks him who he was talking to all night. The only words left on his tongue are “A friend”, and thankfully, the answer satisfies his roommate.
What he isn’t thankful for, however, is his dangerous thoughts over the next few weeks. Whenever there’s a spare moment in the office, his thoughts drift back to the strange man he met at Prosecutor Gavin’s house party. One particularly risky occasion, Sebastian goes as far as to consider asking his friend for O’Conner’s contact details, but his nerves get the better of him and he flees. He spends the rest of the day cooped up in his office, his face the colour of his old jacket, rejecting all visitors. It would have been a fruitless endeavour anyway, O’Conner said he didn’t even know Prosecutor Gavin. All it would have done is embarrassed Sebastian, yes, it’s good he didn’t attempt to re-establish contact with that man.
And yet, despite his logic, despite his rationality, he can’t stop thinking about Hugh O’Conner. The way each of his words was carefully chosen, the proud look in his eyes when he spoke about his loved ones. He spoke with his hands, too. It was captivating to watch. Sebastian’s thoughts are stuck in a circle, stuck in a trap. He can’t escape, he can’t get away from…
Sebastian has spent the last few years nothing but focused. His attention to detail is impeccable. He refuses to be led astray, to be naive, to be so immature again. He’s been perfect since he was eighteen years old, and now here he is, struggling to concentrate on filling out simple paperwork. He’s too busy to remember today’s date when every waking moment, he’s dreaming of a reunion with his complex stranger. It’s ridiculous, it’s foolish. He’s a fool! He knows this, he knows he needs to wake up, and yet every other thought is of the confident attorney in the circular glasses.
He isn’t expecting them to have any sort of reunion, let alone one in the way it occurs. Sebastian is late to court, rushing alongside the new intern, Miss Newman as they both anxiously scan legal documents. This wasn’t supposed to be their trial, it was Prosecutor Blackquill’s, but with him bedridden with flu, Sebastian has filled in the roll. Miss Newman is an unfamiliar figure to him, too. Her apprenticeship leaves her spending most of her time with Prosecutors Blackquill and Gavin, but Sebastian has a passing knowledge of the girl. However, as he’s dashing to get to Courtroom No.1 on time, that isn’t the first thought on his mind.
He arrives dishevelled, his ponytail in desperate need of retying. Thankfully, the presiding judge, that faithful old companion of his, takes pity on him, like she has always done. She gives him that knowing smile, providing him a minute to reorder himself and collect his thoughts. He’s setting such a poor example for the Prosecutor’s Office’s new intern, but her attention is completely captured by the defence bench. She leans forwards, a smile taking over her features, raising one hand and waving it wildly. “Hugh! H-E-Y!” Her voice is loud, passionate. Sebastian hopes she doesn’t notice him flinching at the sudden noise.
However, even if the volume does startle him, her words make his heart swell. He sheepishly looks across the courtroom, almost hoping that Miss Newman is mistaken. He recognises the defence attorney, Mr Shields, a man Sebastian is familiar with, but not all too fond of. However, as sure as day, his co-counsel is the one and only. Hugh O’Conner, looking so pristine, Sebastian feels almost ashamed of his own poor presentation.
Nevermind, this is Court. Appearance doesn’t matter here, he just needs to achieve the truth.
The client is innocent, oh so very innocent. Detective Skye’s testimony makes that quite evident right off the bat, but Sebastian has to continue his job, as his duty. Judge Courtney tells him he put on a good show as he’s packing files into his briefcase, but he doubts her honesty. He dismisses Miss Newman, and is thankful to be alone in the courtroom, alone with his disappointment in himself.
“Are you quite well, Prosecutor Debeste?” Sebastian nearly snaps his baton in half when he hears that voice.
“Mr O’Conner.” He looks up, meeting the other man’s dark eyes. “Forgive me, I did not realise you were still here?”
“You put on quite the performance there. I was impressed.” He sounds oddly sincere; it catches him off guard somewhat. “Perhaps,” That look in his eyes is strangely captivating, and Sebastian can’t remove his gaze, “If I take you out to dinner, you can demonstrate them to me again.”
Sebastian has never left the courtroom faster.
[TO Prosecutor Gavin:] How do you court someone???
[FROM Prosecutor Gavin:] ohohoho~~ mein gott!
This is a mistake. Sebastian knows this is a mistake, and yet his fingers betray him and he keeps typing.
[TO Prosecutor Gavin:] You know that I know you aren’t German.
[FROM Prosecutor Gavin:] you know my deep dark secret, and yet i did not know yours!
[TO Prosecutor Gavin:] Excuse me?
[FROM Prosecutor Gavin:] you have a partner, herr debeste?
[TO Prosecutor Gavin:] I have been asked on a date.
[FROM Prosecutor Gavin:] :0 !!!! pick up the phone write now <3333
“Debestie!” You can tell Klavier is a singer from how he speaks. “Tell me all the details!”
“I was just-” He gulps, hands nervously kneading his thigh through his trousers. The repetitive motion helps calm his nerves, “It’s embarrassing, Prosecutor Gavin.”
“It’s Klavier, Seb, come on.” He laughs, sounding perfectly relaxed. “But, nevermind, nevermind! Your date! Did you say yes? Who was it?”
“I think I said yes? But, I’m not sure.”
“Explain?”
“I said yes, and then I ran away.”
The line goes dead. Prosecutor Gavin has hung up. Only a few, fleeting moments later, Sebastian’s phone vibrates in his hand, and he answers the call once again.
Klavier is roaring with laughter, unable to talk in coherent sentences through his raucous hysterics. “Seb, Sebastian, Sebastian Debeste. Prosecutor Sebastian Debeste, my dearly beloved.”
“I know, I know.” He sighs, falling backwards onto his bed. “I… What do I do? Did I say yes?”
“Well, ja, I think you did, but I don’t know where you go from here. Did you arrange a time and place?”
Sebastian falls completely silent, his eyes wide.
Once again, his close companion is doubling over in a fit of giggles. “Oh, baby, next time this happens, permission to lend you a hand?”
“I’m not a baby.” He pouts, running his free hand through his hair. It needs cutting. “But I am an idiot.”
“Now, now, none of that. You’re inexperienced, there’s a difference! Now, we have a date to organize, so tell me all about it!”
Speaking the words, even to a dear friend, was amongst the most difficult things Sebastian has ever done, but it led to this. An equally difficult experience, waiting in the rain, alone, for a man who might just stand him up. At least he has an umbrella. Sebastian had to make a decision: Would it be more awkward to wait alone inside the restaurant at a table for two, or stand around outside looking awkward? He decided on the latter, and he’s somewhat thankful for this decision. If people walk past him, they only spare him a brief glance, instead of all eyes being on him in a cramped room. As well, it’s socially acceptable to focus on his phone right now. It provides a simple distraction, he can pretend he isn’t here.
However, it is this distraction, this escape to a quieter world, that means he doesn’t notice the hand on his shoulder. It's warm, and yet he jumps back anyway. He instantly curses himself for the action, as the gentle “Ow,” that follows lets him know he is just a fool. “I can’t say I’ve been on many dates, Prosecutor Debeste, but do they usually start with attacking the other with an umbrella? If so, I appear to have arrived unarmed.” He still sounds perfectly calculated, despite rubbing his nose in pain.
Sebastian has to force his feet to stay still and not dash off. “My sincerest apologies, I did not see you there.”
“I tried to alert you to my presence, but perhaps verbal communication would have been wiser. My mistake, no apology needed. Shall we?”
Even after they’re settled at a table, Sebastian is still apologizing. Perhaps this date is just fated not to be, he tells himself, and yet this feels
right.
In this atmosphere, O’Conner seems… Perhaps he should call him Hugh, instead. This is a date after all.
Hugh
seems far more relaxed then he did at the trial, or even at Gavin’s house party. Sebastian opens his mouth to ask about this, but he’s beaten to it by his...
date
.
“I must say, I’m surprised you accepted my offer. We are but strangers, after all.”
“I… I think it’s easier to court a stranger, isn’t it?” His hands are clasped on the table, his back rigid. He’s completely forgotten to even read the menu. “Bridging the gap between platonic and romantic can be messy, right? I can’t say I’ve ever felt… that sort of attraction to any of my close companions before.”
Hugh says nothing for a moment. He seems perfectly relaxed, his head held in one hand, tilted slightly to one side. “I can see your shining logic there, yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“If- If we’re talking about surprises,” Sebastian swallows, forcing the tension to leave his shoulders, “I can’t say I expected you to even ask me here.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I,” He averts his gaze, finally concentrating on what to order, “You’re so suave, confident. And each time we have spoken, I have been out of my depth completely. I’m simply shocked that you saw anything of interest in me.”
When Hugh says nothing, Sebastian’s gut reaction is that he’s ruined everything. He looks up from the menu, eyes wide with fear, only to see those worries may be confirmed. Hugh’s face is flushed pink, one hand covering his mouth slightly. When he speaks, it’s as if there is a lump in his throat, “You think I’m suave?”
Sebastian winces; he’s made him uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, is that a poor choice of words? I only meant to say, you’re incredibly charming, you-”
“I’m not offended, quite the opposite, you don’t need to worry.” Hugh reaches out, placing his own hand over Sebastian’s. He doesn’t flinch back this time. “I’m simply surprised you think so highly of me.”
He finally relaxes. He finally feels at peace. “Our job is to find the truth, isn’t it? Why does it surprise you when I speak it?” He squeezes Hugh’s hand, perhaps tonight can finally go right.
He’s twenty-six, being walked home from his first ever date. He’s unsure, but he feels comfortable, he celebrates the uncertainty. He asks for a second date, he’s granted his wish. Another night together goes by, and then a third, and a fourth. His twenty-seventh birthday is the fifth. Kay and Klavier spend the day after relentlessly teasing him for spending his whole party tucked away in a corner, lost in their own little world. Sebastian doesn’t mind, it was more than worth it. It’s his best birthday to date.
He’s twenty-seven. He’s stopped counting the dates. He’s in his first ever relationship, with a man he loves. He’s being walked home, hand in hand with Hugh O’Conner. They stand still in front of Sebastian’s front door. Hugh’s fingers creep up Sebastian’s arm, finding his shoulder to rest on. His spare hand captures his waist, his grasp firm and strong, yet gentle and warm. Sebastian doesn’t realise that he’s come to hold Hugh’s cheek, that this gesture is a complete second nature. There’s a question in Hugh’s eyes; Sebastian nods. The kiss just feels right.
Sebastian is nervous, but not a wreck. He’s scared, but he wants more. He’s in love, and he’s loved. And oh, he’s loved. His heart hammers in his chest, he’s loved, he’s loved . Even after they pull away, the sensation doesn’t leave him. The look in Hugh’s eyes, the warmth of his smile, every part of him is a reminder: Sebastian is loved. It runs through his blood, it drowns out the noise of their goodbyes. They share a brief hug, and Hugh walks home.
Sebastian is left alone with the painful, gorgeous knowledge. He’s loved.
Kay isn’t home, he has no one to share this secret with. He removes his gloves, folding them into their box by his bed. He pulls his hair down, stroking his fingers through the hazel curls. He stares deeply at his reflection, and the man who stares back at him is loved . He showers, the warm water melting him into nothingness. He lies in bed, a bed that may one day be shared with another. He dreams of grey eyes and dark hair. He wakes to a day filled with the unknown that he can’t wait to explore.
He’s twenty-seven. He’s loved.