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They were all tired.
Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he got to indulge in a full night’s sleep, even if common sense would suggest that it couldn’t have been that long ago. Nevertheless, there was a constant buzzing in his ears and a nauseating sense of unrest that spread through his body like a perpetual shiver, making his fingers twitch. Most nights now, he lay awake, staring into the heavily ornamented ceiling as if it held all the answers. The passages of the book swirled in his mind, only accelerated in their spin by more and more questions. When he closed his eyes, no relief awaited him either. There were just faces of Anne, his uncle, Ominis – images with some uncanny emotion attached to them, not unlike fear. Or anger.
He and Ominis were, supposedly, fine, with Ominis having admitted that he had found some closure in finding out what happened to his aunt. But Sebastian couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulder tensed up when they were near each other, the way his whole body seemed to lean away, as if unconsciously. He didn’t initiate any of the affection he normally would, and Sebastian would be damned if he was to be the one who had to break the impasse. He had never been before and he didn’t see why that should change now.
Ominis had given in with the Scriptorium, but it was as though some part of the trust between them — a part that Sebastian so far believed, hoped, to be eternal and transcendent— had been broken. And when he searched inside himself, he could also find a tear there, a shard of anger. Because Ominis put his comfort first, and their safety second. Merlin only knows what could have happened if that Crucio curse had misfired.
The new student seemed to be affected just a much, and Sebastian wasn’t exactly surprised — who wouldn’t be, in their place. To learn a Forbidden Curse only months after discovering their own magic, well. They had all the right to feel overwhelmed. And there was also the part where they kept coming back to the castle later and later at night, engaged in one mysterious quest or another; more often than not now, they came back reeking of something stale, festered and sweet, like an inside of a tomb.
And perhaps neither him or Ominis would have ever found their way out of their stupor, not even with the help of all of Ominis’ guiding spells, if not for the new student approaching Sebastian in the common room one night with a slightly wry but honest smile on their face.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?” they asked.
“Plans are boring.” Sebastian leaned back on the couch and stretched his arms. “I prefer to live spontaneously.”
The student’s smile widened and now there was something sparkling in their eyes, something joyful and alive.
“I was hoping you would say that. Do you know if Ominis is around?”
“I don’t, have you checked all the pillars he could be brooding by? What do you need him for, anyway?”
“We need him,” the student said, gesturing with their hand for Sebastian to follow them as they made their way out of the common room. “To join us in the Undercroft. Where we are going to have a drink. Or five.”
***
And just like that, half an hour later, Sebastian, joined by one reluctant Ominis, was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the Undercroft’s cool, stone floor. The student was digging for something in one of the chests, accompanied by the distinct sound of glass clicking.
“You’ve certainly made yourself at home,” Ominis said, just a touch dryly. His legs were stretched out in front of him in a semi-relaxed pose, but his cloak was pulled tight around his body and he kept his face inclined down. He was patently not happy to be here — but then again, he did agree to come. That had to count for something.
“Problem?” The student asked, raising their eyebrows, as they walked over towards them. They nudged Ominis’ elbow gently with the bottle of butterbeer. “Here, this might make you lighten up a bit.”
“You could try lightening him up with the Fiendfyre Curse and you would still grow old trying. The last time he was cheerful was in his crib,” Sebastian grumbled, reaching for his own drink. The bottle was cool; it must have been charmed to stay that way. “Where did you get this?”
“Why? Must I tell you all my secrets?” The student joined them on the floor, settling and shuffling a bit to make themselves comfortable. “We should’ve brought cushions. Why is conjuring forbidden in the castle, again?”
“Because someone once subconsciously conjured a bed during History of Magic and it broke another student’s neck,” Ominis said. He had opened his bottle with a quick off-hand spell. “Sebastian, give me your bottle. I don’t wish for a repeat experience of the last time you tried opening it.”
“Oh, screw you.” Sebastian took the bottle in his mouth and popped the cap open between his molars. “There are perfectly fine Muggle ways to open it. One could never accuse me of prejudice.”
“Did you just open it with your teeth again?” Ominis scowled. “Oh, Merlin, you did, didn’t you. Disgusting.”
The student cleared their throat loudly. It came out as a half-chuckle.
“Would you like me to leave you two to this lovers’ quarrel?”
Ominis rolled his eyes and took a large pull from the bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Sebastian felt himself blush an angry red.
“Oh, shut up,” he mumbled, aiming for something dignified and failing spectacularly. “Anyway, we should play something.”
Ominis sighed with a weight of a hundred hipogriffs.
“Why can’t people just drink? You know, for the sake of drinking. Why must there always be a game?”
“I imagine people can. But that doesn’t mean people should,” the student said, smiling.
Sebastian liked their smile. Liked it a lot, actually, in a very complicated way he couldn’t quite begin to gauge. It wasn’t the way he liked Ominis’ smile — well, he liked that one only when Ominis wasn’t being an absolute bastard, of course, which added up to not that much time at all. This was a warmer feeling, almost hot — more like a scold, a hand snatched away too late from above a burning candle, whereas his feelings for Ominis were a low glow, gentle but steady, a fire that had burned for years now and one that could very well set the whole world on fire if he so wished but it… didn’t have to. It was safe, reliable. This was a fierce spark, asking to be toyed with.
“Yeah, Ominis, live a little, would you?” Sebastian tried to wash the uneasiness in his stomach away with a large gulp of beer. “If you start now, you might even get six seconds of fun before you turn forty.”
Ominis only scoffed, but the student must have taken that as agreement, because they tilted their head and — proceed to chug the bottle. The gulps were loud in the quiet room. They beamed once they pulled the bottle away, wiping at their mouth with the back of their hand. They held the bottle up, as if to show it off.
“Spin the bottle?”
Sebastian laughed. Oh, it did feel good to laugh a bit again. It felt genuine, not just because of the comfort the butterbeer was promising from the bottom of his stomach.
“Well, first of all, that was impressive. Second of all, you’re going to regret that. Third, that is awfully uncreative of you, I’m almost disappointed.”
“Almost?” The student cocked an eyebrow and set the bottle on the floor, in the middle on the triangle-circle between the three of them. “So you’re not saying no.”
“I guess not.”
“Merlin, please come save me,” Ominis sighed again. “I’m going to need another bottle pretty quickly if you want me to participate in this.”
“Against the use of Dark Arts, but not the underage alcohol abuse,” Sebastian muttered and Ominis narrowed his eyes at him.
Sebastian flipped him off.
“It’s very rude to do that when I can’t see it.”
Ugh, why did he have to know him so well?
The student cleared their throat again. They looked terribly amused, a touch too much for Sebastian’s taste. And wait— have they just changed?
“What in Merlin’s sweet name is that?” Sebastian pointed at the outfit they were wearing now, some weird assortment of white, shimmering gloves, a clock-ornamented scarf, a blue-hooded robe and some kind of… outdated sorcerer’s hat. How could they possibly make that combination look as fetching as it did? “And how did you do that?”
“I keep my secrets,” the student said. They had brought over three more bottles from the chest and started working at their second one. “And don’t offend my scarf. I risked my life to get to the chest I found it in, you know.”
Sebastian just blinked at them.
It was Ominis’ turn to cough pointedly and Sebastian felt just a small trickle of shame run down his back. He was usually quicker to include him on any jokes that required sight. Perhaps he was angry.
Frustration or not, he leaned over to Ominis and explained the outfit in practiced detail he had grown accustomed to over the years, with words that would mean something to Ominis, instead of just colours he had never seen and didn’t quite understand the concept of. Once he was done and Ominis did chuckle and did — what a miracle — lighten up a bit, he reached out and twisted the bottle to send it spinning.
It turned quietly, slowed down and stopped, the neck pointing at the student.
“Oops. I guess I start.”
“Well.” Sebastian stretched out his legs. “Maybe I got ahead of myself a bit. We didn’t establish how we are doing it. Just your classic truth or dare?”
“I can go with that. Ominis?”
A grumble.
“Ominis, that was almost enthusiastic for you!” they exclaimed and Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. He was feeling even warmer now. His toes were tingling.
“So. Truth or dare?”
The student regarded Sebastian for a charged moment, their head inclined to the side. They licked their lips.
“Dare.”
“I dare you to…” Sebastian’s eyes searched the room, looking for inspiration. They rested on a dusty candelabrum standing on top of one of the tables. He pointed at it. “I dare you to hold that above your head, and I will light it with a Confringo.”
The student laughed, the sound slightly incredulous, but sure as rain they bent their knees and made to stand up.
“Sit the hell down,” Ominis groaned. He reached for the bottle, fumbling just barely, and held it in front of Sebastian, pointing the tip at him threateningly. “Sebastian Sallow, I dare you to use your bloody brains for the first time in your life.”
The new student snickered but Sebastian felt the low simmer of his suppressed irritation come to an abrupt boil. He snatched the bottle.
“And I dare you to get that stick out of your fucking ass.”
Ominis scowled, his jaw working tight, and he reached into his pocket to—
A spark of magic. A thunder, really — loud and obnoxious. Sparks everywhere, swirling from the ceiling and falling onto their robes like ignited snowflakes.
Sebastian whipped his head around towards the new student, who was now gripping their wand tightly.
“Okay, children, that’s quite enough,” they said. “New rules.”
Still shocked into silence, Sebastian flopped back down. Ominis followed, uncharacteristically obedient himself.
“Thank you. So, we are going to just play Truth for now, and we are going to go in a circle,” the student said, voice oddly firm, reaching to take the empty bottle away from Sebastian’s hand. They smiled when their fingertips met over the glass. “And I’m going to start. Ominis, ready?”
“No,” Ominis said.
“Great. So, truth, then. Ominis, tell me one thing you like about Sebastian.”
Ominis’ brow furrowed. He blinked, looking out of his depth. Sebastian felt his insides tighten and his palms grow a bit clammy.
“I don’t know if that really classifies as truth,” he grumbled, reaching for his beer, mostly in order to get his hands occupied; the student just glared him down.
Ominis cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I like it when he has the common sense to listen to me.”
The new student tutted. How the hell did they manage to look so threatening with that polite smile and the skewed purple hat falling onto their forehead? It shouldn’t be possible, but there was definitely something menacing about them and Ominis must have sensed it too, because he said, quickly, words tumbling over each other on their way out:
"I see what you’re trying to do, and I don’t appreciate it. But fine, have it your way. I like his hair.”
“My hair?” Sebastian almost squeaked, equal parts embarrassed and outraged. “My bloody hair?”
Ominis shrugged.
“It’s… fluffy.”
Sebastian snorted.
“See, that’s a start. Sebastian, your turn. Same question.”
Sebastian smirked. “I suppose I’ve always liked my nose a fair bit, it’s got good proportions, you know?”
The student’s glare was glacial. Sebastian suppressed a shiver.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Fine. I guess he’s funny sometimes. When he wants to be.”
The student cocked their eyebrow; it was loaded, expectant.
“Good funny. Not like… Oh, fine. I like how he always makes me laugh, okay.”
“Now isn’t that much better.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Sebastian could see Ominis hiding his own blooming blush behind the bottle.
“Your turn,” Sebastian said, pointing an accusatory finger at the student. He run out of enthusiasm promptly, though, when they just smiled openly and gestured for him to continue. His brain came to a screeching halt.
What did he want to know? Well, what didn’t he want to know? The possibilities were endless.
But before he could decide on his next words, Ominis’ voice came, low and ever-so-slightly teasing.
“What do you like about Sebastian?”
The student startled a bit, but they composed themselves quickly. They regarded Ominis first, something Sebastian couldn’t quite name passing between them — which was weird in and on itself because it wasn’t like Ominis could exchange a meaningful glance with anyone — and then Sebastian. Sebastian felt his skin prickle a bit under the intense attention.
“I like his dedication,” the student said, at last. “I like his selflessness.”
Sebastian snorted, embarrassed. He gave in to the urge to cover his face.
“My Confringo idea was way more fun,” he mumbled against the damp skin of his palms.
“Selflessness?” Ominis cut in. His voice was strangled and Sebastian couldn’t fight the instinct to look up at him. Ah, he was truly angry now. “I suppose it was his selflessness, then, that cast the Cruciatus curse on you? You know, what I like most about Sebastian is how he manages to manipulate every single poor soul around him to—“
“Ominis,” the student interrupted. “Truth. Why are you so angry at Sebastian?”
“Why am I—“ Ominis spluttered. He shook his head and paused to take a swing out of the bottle. He laughed, dry. “What are these rules, anyway? How come is it your turn to ask me something again?”
“The rules are what I say they are, because I supplied the alcohol,” the student said and raised his bottle in a mocking toast. “Cheers.”
“Yeah,” Sebastian heard himself say, stupidly, although he made no conscious decision to open his mouth. “Why are you so angry with me, Ominis?”
Ominis turned around to face him, his features contorted with anger.
“You are not serious.”
Sebastian bristled. “No, I am. I am serious, because it wasn’t me who was trying to make us not do something that could possibly help Anne. I thought you trusted me.”
“I do trust you, Sebastian,” Ominis said slowly, as if to a child, voice cold. He had set his bottle aside and was now leaning towards Sebastian. “This isn’t at all about trust.”
“Isn’t it?” Sebastian raked his fingers through his hair but that didn’t give him the relief was looking for, so dug them into the flesh of his knee instead. “Because to me it seems like you think I will go berserk the second I have anything to do with Dark Magic. Do you think I have no control? Why are you so prejudiced against—”
“Prejudiced?!” Ominis raised his voice. He leaned in even closer, so close Sebastian could feel his breath, warm and sweet-smelling, so close he could look inside the blank chasm of his eyes. “You have no right to speak to me about prejudice. You don’t know what it’s like. You have no idea what it does to a person to— Dark Magic isn’t fun, Sebastian, and neither is it a cure for Anne!”
“You don’t know that,” Sebastian spat. “You don’t.”
“Ominis,” the student’s voice came, soft, from somewhere far away. Sebastian was trapped, bound by Ominis’ magnetism, by his rage; he couldn’t turn to look at them. “Truth. Why are you so angry?”
“Because I want him to be safe, damn it!” Ominis exclaimed. “Because I don’t want him to have anything to do with any of it! He thinks he knows—” He paused and shook his head. “You think you know, Sebastian, what it’s like. You think you will find something and that you will know how to use it once you do. But you can’t know that. And I don’t want to… It has nothing to do with trust. I just don’t want it to take you away, too.”
Sebastian swallowed. This was not what he expected from this evening, and far from his idea of fun. The beer sloshed uncomfortably in his belly now, too warm, too soft.
“It’s not going to take me away,” he said, too mellow, too quiet for an evening between friends, too private. But it had to be said and it had to be said now. “Nothing is.”
He raised his hand and reached for Ominis’ arm — but he hesitated, let it fall away. That was too much right now, probably, especially in company.
“See, it’s not that hard to talk,” the new student said and it broke the spell around them, let Sebastian free himself of the devil’s snare grasp.
Sebastian shuffled away back to his spot. The student was smiling; they had now popped open the third bottle. The pinkish flush on their cheeks looked quite alluring.
“You two are getting behind.”
“Well,” Ominis said, reaching for another bottle himself. The emotion that had spilled all over his face was gone now, evaporated in seconds like splashed water in scorching heat. “With this curious exercise out of the way, are you ready to reveal the other purpose to this game?”
The student sniggered a bit into the bottle. It made a high, whistling sound.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, don’t you,” Ominis said dryly. Sebastian looked back and forth between the two of them, confused. There was something charged between, almost visceral, he could almost taste it on the tip of his tongue — but he couldn’t name it.
“Why, Ominis,” the student asked, their mouth stretching in another smile, perfectly pleasant, and Sebastian’s confusion only deepened when Ominis scowled. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Right.” Sebastian emptied his bottle. “You see, this is what I mean when I say I’m feeling left out between the two of you.”
“Oh, trust me,” Ominis snapped. “You are not the one being left out here.”
“Ominis,” the student said softly. “That’s not true.”
Sebastian strained in a futile attempt to understand any part of this conversation. Just a small fraction of it making sense would be quite nice.
“Sebastian.”
Sebastian’s eyes snapped back to the student. They were wearing a very gentle, almost shy, smile.
“Ask me what I like about Ominis.”
“I— What—“ Sebastian managed, just as Ominis said:
“There’s no need for—”
But the student interrupted them both. “Ominis, I like your loyalty. I admire both your morals and your knowledge. And I also think you’re very handsome.”
“What,” Ominis said.
“Yeah, good question, what?” Sebastian was pretty sure he was seconds away from losing his mind and he wasn’t even drunk yet.
“I think you are misunderstanding my intentions,” the student continued, setting the bottle, now also empty, beside their ankle.
Ominis had moved slightly towards Sebastian, his palm resting on the ground but his arms stretched out just barely in front of Sebastian’s knees; it seemed almost… protective.
“Then make those clear.”
“You seem to think that I want to take what’s yours away from you.”
“Nothing is mine. That’s not how any of this works. I don’t owe him.”
“You don’t owe who?” Sebastian’s head had begun to hurt. “Is anyone going to tell me what this is about?”
“Owe whom,” was all Ominis said and Sebastian was going to smack him all the way to Hogsmeade.
The student took off their hat and set it aside, looking at Ominis like they were assessing him, considering something.
“I simply got the impression that you both wouldn’t mind. I certainly got that from Sebastian. And lately I thought… I’m sorry if I was wrong. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It just seemed like a fun idea and I thought maybe, just maybe, everybody would be on board, because—”
“Because sharing is caring?” Ominis asked, his eyebrow cocked dubiously.
“No,” the student chuckled. “Because we are all a bit miserable and we could use a distraction.”
Ominis leaned back on his arms and titled his head up to the ceiling, pensive. Sebastian was still frozen in his private little confusion that seemed to escape both other parties entirely.
“Okay,” Ominis said slowly. “Maybe. I see where you’re coming from. But that’s not up to me.”
“Okay,” Sebastian snapped. The obtrusion in his throat had now given way to something that tasted a bit like a bile and a lot like jealousy. He rose up to his knees and heaved himself off the ground. “That’s enough, I’m leaving, and you two can sort whatever it is you—“
Ominis’ hand grasped at the hem of his rope and pulled him back down. He startled and looked at Ominis, feeling his eye widen in shock.
The new student inclined their head again and they slowly reached for the abandoned bottle. They slid it across the floor towards Sebastian’s knee.
“I dare you,” they said, smirking around the butterbeer foam smeared above their upper lip, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “To kiss Ominis.”
Sebastian scoffed. “What? How is that a dare? Wait, are you honestly trying to make us kiss and make up?”
“No,” Ominis drawled, leaning in over Sebastian’s shoulder and coaxing him to sit back down. “No, this isn’t about us making up at all anymore. I think they just want to watch.”
Sebastian’s mind got struck with some sort of Glacius spell again —but then it melted slowly, cautiously, their words playing back on a loop.
You seem to think that I want to take what’s yours away from you.
I don’t owe him.
I simply got the impression that you both wouldn’t mind.
He flopped back down onto the floor. Pure bafflement and some sort of bewildered excitement fought for dominance inside his poor, pounding head.
“That was one complicated discussion for a snog,” he said, mostly just to say anything, because his mind was still scrambling to play catch up.
“So…” The student let their voice trail off and licked their lips again. “Would you like to? You don’t actually have to.”
“Of course he doesn’t have to.” Warm fingers curled themselves around Sebastian’s wrist. He turned and found Ominis really close.
“What, you are not angry anymore?” He asked, foolishly.
He could count each individual one of Ominis’ eyelashes; he was getting a bit out of breath. Truth be told, Ominis always had that effect on him, and the fact that they never exactly had an audience before wasn’t helping. He could feel the little hairs at the back of his nape standing up. He was tingling all over. Did he want to do this? The shiver blooming at the base of his spine was screaming a vehement yes.
“Of course I’m angry,” Ominis admitted. His hand slid under the sleeve of Sebastian’s robe, smooth like a warm snake. “Maybe this will help. Maybe it won’t, and that will make it better.”
“One day I might actually be able to catch up with your mood swings,” Sebastian muttered. He leaned in an inch closer. He could hear the student’s robe shuffling as they moved, too. It was… certainly interesting.
“Oh, look in the mirror, Sebastian,” Ominis said.
Sebastian kissed him.
At first it was brief, tentative, just a brush of lips. It was warm, familiar, it felt good; it felt like a finally. He had missed this, the way Ominis’ mouth parted under his, they way his breath enfolded Sebastian’s cheeks, the way his hand, as always, found its sweet spot right away, tangled in Sebastian’s hair. He felt himself melt — just a bit, just for a split-second where he could let the anger seep out of his pores and allow relief to wash over him instead.
But then Ominis sighed shakily against his mouth and Sebastian heard the student hum, almost thoughtfully — and something wilder growled in his guts, the kiss morphing into something else.
He parted Ominis’ lips with his tongue and licked hotly inside. He scooted over to half-straddle Ominis’ legs and wrapped his palms around his face to coax it up for a better angle. He sucked at Ominis’ firm lower lip and Ominis sighed again. The sound vibrated down Sebastian’s throat as he pressed closer to swallow it. It lasted for a while, their lips and tongues moving, caressing each other with ease, with practice — and perhaps with a bit of normally unnecessary flourish. When Sebastian pulled away, Ominis’ lips were wet and glistening — and so he chased them again, just for one more lick.
Then, he turned to look at the student. They were sitting cross-legged, slanted over their knees, staring intently. They were definitely blushing, the colour standing out against the pale blue of their cloak.
“How did you like that?” Sebastian asked, his bravado making his voice clear despite his dry throat.
The student smiled. “It was all right.”
“All right?” Sebastian bristled. “All right, they say!”
He turned to cast Ominis a look outraged enough he would be able to sense it, but Ominis was sitting back on his legs with a knowing smile stretching over his face. Sebastian frowned. It still felt like there was a private joke he was missing.
“I’m sure,” Ominis said slowly, raising his hand to drag his thumb along his own lower lip. “That they mean to say they could do better.”
“I—“ Sebastian whipped his head back again to look at the student. Their smile haven’t faltered even a fraction. It could almost be considered predatory, if it wasn’t so nice.
He looked at Ominis again. At this rate, he was going to sprain his neck.
“It’s fine by me, if you want to.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You don’t mind?”
“Don’t mind what? You two kissing or that you want to kiss them?” Ominis smirked. Sebastian spluttered a bit, searching for words, but clearly Ominis wasn’t that dedicated to his teasing. “I don’t mind either.”
“Are you… sure?” Sebastian asked, carefully. “Or is this the beer talking?”
Ominis smiled and it was perhaps the first truly warm, affectionate smile he offered Sebastian in weeks.
“I’m not drunk. And if you’re sure, I am.”
“And you?” Sebastian regarded the student. They were still smiling and Merlin, wasn’t their mouth hurting with it by now? “Is this what you want?”
The student shuffled over to Sebastian’s side in a manoeuvre that had a lot of potential to be very amusing in different circumstances. In circumstances where, for starters, Sebastian’s chest wasn’t on fire. They rested their hand tentatively on Sebastian’s shoulder. Even that small touch felt like a spark, like a beginning of a spell.
“Yep,” they said.
“A kiss,” Sebastian tired it out on his tongue. “A kiss and then what, exactly? Is this just for fun, or do you…?”
“Like you? Of course I do. I like you both.” Their hand moved up Sebastian’s neck and up further still to brush his hair away from his temple. “But just a kiss is fine, too.”
“And you don’t mind—”
“Third-wheeling a bit?” The student chuckled. Their eyes were dark, they were sucking Sebastian into their vortex, luring him in. “I don’t.”
“You are not third-wheeling,” said Ominis, his voice coming firmly from behind Sebastian’s back. “You have made this about us, because you are a very good friend. But there’s no third-wheeling going on and there should never be any. I think it’s clear that Sebastian is quite taken with you. And that it’s returned. And I, well. I am very much taken with Sebastian.”
“What a compliment,” the student said slowly, casting a glance at Ominis Sebastian’s shoulder.
“That’s stupid,” Sebastian said, leaning away just an inch, without dislodging the student’s hand, warm on the side of his face. “We’re not doing this if you are just going to suffer so I can enjoy myself.”
Ominis chuckled.
“Who said I wasn’t going to enjoy myself? Here you go, Game Master, truth — I find you attractive, too. And I also admire your loyalty, and your skills.”
“That’s enough for me,” the student said. They were close. The scent of butterbeer was thick on their breath. Sebastian inhaled, small and shuddering. He looked down at the student’s mouth. Their lips were slightly chapped, rough with the cold of the coming winter.
They claimed his.
And this was different, too. There was no way for Sebastian to tell if that was just because he had never kissed anyone but Ominis; there was no way for him to tell anything, really, not with his eyelids falling shut and his head swimming with the sensations, abandoning all thought and reason.
The student’s teeth closed around his lower lip. He gasped, a groan escaping him on the tail end of it. He pressed himself closer, wrapping his arms around the student’s shoulders and waist, pulling them in. This close, the smell of butterbeer and something else, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, was intoxicating. Kissing Ominis was like coming home to a wonderful surprise — safe, warm, exciting. Kissing the student was like balancing at the edge of a precipice, the wild wind whirling in on him, sneaking in under his robes and under his skin, ravaging his insides.
He was giving as good as he was getting now, his hands sliding into the student’s hair, his mouth wet and open wide. The kiss was more tongue than lips, it was—
“Well,” Ominis said. His voice was just a touch hoarse, and it was coming right from behind Sebastian’s shoulder. Sebastian’s eyes snapped open. “This is nice, but I can’t say I wouldn’t enjoy it much more if I could actually see.”
The student leaned back and their mouths parted with a smack. Their lips were red and swollen, their hair dishevelled. Their pupils were blown wide, the dazzling spark in them almost ushering the darkness out.
“Be my guest,” they said —and Sebastian would be slightly offended that they seemed to understand each other again, while most of the conversation went over the top of his hand, but then Ominis was crouching in front of him and his hand reached up. His fingertips glided over Sebastian’s damp lips. Sebastian froze. His vision swam.
Ominis hummed. His thumb caressed Sebastian’s bottom lip, traced up to feel the flush of his cheeks.
“Again?” It wasn’t a question, but it was a touch hesitant.
"Are you okay?” Sebastian asked, weakly, his lips moving against the soft skin on the inside of Ominis’ wrist. Ominis’ other palm wrapped around his, intertwining their fingers.
“More than okay.”
The student was smiling again. Sebastian leaned in to press a soft, dry kiss to the edge of their cheekbone.
“And you? Okay?”
He could feel their eyes rolling.
“Sebastian,” they said and it sounded so out-of-place serious that Sebastian abandoned the spot he was kissing to look them in the eye. “I know you love Ominis. Oh, grow up,” they chided when Sebastian groaned in embarrassment. “And Ominis loves you. That’s very simple. And we all like each other, and we want to do this, so I don’t see why it has to be complicated.”
“It’s always complicated,” Sebastian muttered. Ominis’ fingers tightened around his.
“And I am not going to come between anything-“
“Again, you’re not.” Ominis’ hand abandoned Sebastian’s temple to rest on the student’s jaw instead. “You are our friend. No one is going to use you as a fantasy. You’re so much more than that. Merlin, why must I always be the adult?”
“What if it is my fantasy?” the student asked, smirking. Sebastian’s hand was still tangled in their hair. He scratched there, a bit, experimentally. The smirk transformed into a grin.
“I mean, we are just talking about kissing, right?” Sebastian said. He rubbed Ominis’ knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “We will have plenty of time for talking so we can figure it all out.”
“Yeah, talking is getting a bit old. I’m getting a cramp,” the student laughed.
“Again, then,” Ominis said, voice low.
And how could Sebastian refuse him?
This time, the kiss was slower, more careful. Sebastian was dizzy with it, dizzy with the overlapping sensations of the student’s tongue — inquisitive and soft, and Ominis’ hand, trailing up his back, touching their faces — gently at first and more insistently soon after, pushing them closer together. The student gasped into his mouth and soon Sebastian felt a finger glide along their kissing lips. His tongue brushed against it. Ominis grip on his palm tightened to a vice.
They parted; all three of them were short of panting. Sebastian found it tough to open his eyes, his eyelids were heavy, his movements slowed down.
He was happy he managed to pry them open, though, because it was just in time to see Ominis lean towards the student and claim their mouth himself. Sebastian felt something hot come to life in his stomach and yes, okay, he could understand Ominis’ perspective now.
The kiss was brutal. Ominis was licking into the student’s mouth reverently, as if chasing Sebastian’s taste that was still buried inside it. His hand was fisted in the student’s hair and his grip around Sebastian’s fingers was just as tight. It ended as soon as it started, the fire dying out. Ominis lingered a bit, though, dragging his lips in one last soft kiss against the student’s bottom one. He leaned away.
They were both smiling. And Sebastian — Sebastian was full to bursting of something, something unnamed, something that felt like an unsolvable mystery and a revelation all at once.
Ominis reached out and took the student’s hand in his free one, squeezing. They beamed at him and took Sebastian’s in their other one.
And so they sat there, in the cool, gloomy Undercroft, holding hands in a circle. It would feel beyond silly, if it didn’t feel so good.
“So,” Sebastian said, clearing his throat.
“So,” the student conceded. The blush on their cheeks was still burning a vivid pink. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
Ominis’ head came to rest, lightly, on Sebastian’s shoulder. “By the way, I am still angry with you,” he muttered into the crook of his neck.
“Oh, shut up.”