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Coriolanus put his free hand on Sejanus’s arm, as if comforting him, but really to grip his shirt if he decided to run. “We’re being surrounded. I’m going. Come with me,” Coriolanus was beginning to panic at his friend’s unchanging expression. “Please,” he tried, approaching desperation, “what do you want to do, fight the tributes or fight for them? Don’t give Dr. Gaul the satisfaction of beating you. Don’t give up.”
Sejanus stared down at Marcus for a long moment, weighing his options. Coriolanus had to keep himself from holding his breath in anticipation. He wanted to get out of this fucking arena where any second they could be ambushed by rabid tributes. He wanted to get Sejanus out too, if mostly to secure himself in Strabo Plinth’s favor, but he was starting to run out of options. He had no idea what to do next.
Finally Sejanus’s gaze returned to hold Coriolanus’s. “No,” he said firmly, looking the man straight in his eyes, “I’m not going. But you need to get out of here, Coryo.”
Frustration overtook Coriolanus. What the hell was he meant to do to get Sejanus out of here? The boy was too stubborn for his own good, and certainly too stubborn for Coriolanus’s. He wracked his brain for more options, there had to be more options, one more trick up his sleeve he could use to try and manipulate Sejanus out of the arena. One more set of pretty words he could twist. One more faux meaningful glance and lingering touch. But there was nothing. Nothing he could think of except–an absolutely insane idea came to Coriolanus. An idea that could backfire in about a thousand different ways. An idea that made his stomach turn, from disgust he was sure. But an idea that just might work. No, it would work. It had to because it was Coriolanus’s only option and he was not about to die in the arena like district scum.
So, all at once, Coriolanus, biting his tongue and stamping down his apprehension, pulled Sejanus in by the shirt until they were so close their chests were pressed together and their noses almost touched. He could see confusion flash through Sejanus’s eyes before closing his own and sliding his hand behind the other’s ear, and then–the crash of lips against lips like waves against the shore. Sejanus opened his mouth slightly and moved it, like he might be saying something, but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears made it impossible for Coriolanus to hear anything.
He didn’t think, for once he didn’t think, and just–did. Just wrapped his free arm around Sejanus’s waist and pulled him in impossibly closer. Just tilted his chin downward and parted his lips slightly, inviting a deeper kiss. Sejanus accepted, reaching one hand up and tangling it Coriolanus's hair with such confidence that he had to keep himself from collapsing into Sejanus’s body completely.
And then, when the two pulled away from each other for the first time, for just a fraction of a second–and a fraction of a second was all he needed–Coriolanus grabbed Sejanus by the arm and ran.
Somehow, by some miracle, the two boys made it to the arena’s gate before any of the tribute’s even registered their presence in the arena. They collapsed on the other side, tangled together, Coriolanus still gripping Sejanus’s arm far too tightly. With his other hand he reached up to grab Sejanus’s chin and pulled him in, as if for another kiss, and he smirked as Sejanus’s cheeks reddened. Instead of kissing him, he whispered, ”We both made it out alive, which is remarkable considering your recklessness. Let's agree to never speak of this again.”
Dazed, Sejanus nodded quietly and Coriolanus pulled away, standing up and dusting himself off before leaving with haste.
–
“After what you said the other day, about us being like brothers, well, I feel I owe you an explanation. Please, just hear me out.”
This was it, then. The confession. Coriolanus’s entreaties for sanity and caution had been weighed and found insufficient. Misguided passion had won the day. Now was the time for the pieces to be explained. The money. The guns. The base map. The moment the whole treasonous rebel plot would be revealed. Once Coriolanus heard it, he’d be as good as a rebel himself. A traitor to the Capitol. He should panic, or run, or at least try to shut Sejanus up. But he did none of those things.
Instead he stood stock still, his head yelling at him to move, to do something, but his body simply wouldn't comply.
“It’s like this,” said Sejanus, his voice rising with emotion. “I can’t see us as brothers.”
No. No, no, no, no, no. No. he couldn’t hear this, he wouldn’t. Coriolanus was already risking everything just by being Sejanus’s friend, he couldn’t have the boy telling him all his rebel secrets now too. He tried to think of a solution, a way out, but he felt as helpless as a plastic bag, lost to the wind. Sejanus’s lips were moving, Coriolanus knew he must be saying something but no sound could get past the rush of blood in his ears as he reached out to grab Sejanus’s shirt, just like before.
And just like before, everything happened so, so fast. A rush of movement and flushed cheeks, lips on lips and hands on skin. Vaguely, Coriolanus realized how concerning it was that this seemed to be the only thing he could do to get Sejanus to shut up.
But then Sejanus’s hand was on the back of his neck and coherent thoughts became nearly impossible. The only thing Coriolanus could make sense of in his mushy mess of a brain was this: they weren’t in any immediate danger. Unlike the first time he kissed Sejanus, they had unlimited time. He could savor it (because it would be more believable that way, obviously.)
So Coriolanus let his hand snake around Sejanus’s waist. He let himself enjoy the way his friend arched his back into the touch. Coriolanus let himself get lost in the kiss.
And god did it feel good.
When the two boys finally pulled away from each other, both taking in gasps of air they had forgotten they needed, Sejanus smiled and said, “You never let me finish.”
To which Coriolanus huffed and stormed away, refusing to take the bait as stubbornly as he refused to acknowledge the flutter of excitement blossoming in his stomach.
–
Oh god.
Coriolanus could barely comprehend all the things happening at once. There was shouting and crying and there was blood on his hands. Not literal blood of course, but there might as well have been.
He needed to keep his composure, the gun was on the ground, he needed to get the gun, he needed to but–Sejanus. Sejanus was here and he was a mess and–his face was in Coriolanus’s hands. He was holding Sejanus’s face in his hands and even though everything was fucked up and he wasn’t sure if Sejanus would ever forgive him for everything he’d done, there was only one thing he could think to do.
Just like all those other times there was only one thing Coriolanus could think to do. So he kissed Sejanus even though right there in the same room was Lucy Gray and the girl he just killed.
He kissed Sejanus and it fixed nothing at all.