Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Shit!” you screech, chest heaving in exertion as you sprint down the hallway.

Somehow, you had weaseled your way into Urbanshade, posing as a scientist just to get a peek at the work. What a mistake you made.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that *wasn’t* your job. From the lack of knowledge to the unprofessionalism, it really was no secret that you didn’t belong there.

Then, you were gullible enough to believe that this ‘super special mission for super special scientists’ was a good thing. Now, you’ve ended up just like the rest of the expendables. ‘Course, you’re not immortal like half of them are. You’re killable, unfortunately, with no means of returning.

Next, you met ‘your only friend, Sebastian Solace.’ It took you months to convince him you weren’t actually a scientist, and that everything was a game of pretend. “That’s what a scientist would say,” he’d grumble at you. But somewhere along the way, his gaze softened.

Now, you’re ’his little scavenger,’ as he calls it. When he doesn’t want to do his job, you’re sent off to loot expendables’ dead bodies.

“I need help!” you scream into the walkie talkie that Seb had so graciously given to you. When you rambled, he’d listen. When you *complained,* he *listened.* After a few tweaks, you two had a way to communicate when you weren’t cooped up in his shop.

All that meets you on the other end is static. You messily shove the talkie back into your belt and look over your shoulder. This Pandemonium had to have been chasing you for a least a minute. It’s smaller than the others, probably why you haven’t been killed yet.

Your legs beg for a break as you persist forward, and when you come upon a locker, you slam the doors shut and settle inside. You white-knuckle the metal, awaiting your fate of being shaken around inside the closet while simultaneously fighting for your life. You squeeze your eyes shut as sweat drips down your face.

Though, the shaking never actually comes. Instead, you’re greeted with a loud growl, and what you can only describe as two cats fighting. Hissing, scratching, etc. Then, a *rip.*

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets, claws gently grazing at the locker doors. You swallow, pushing them open with a small screech. Your hair sticks to the slick of your face, breathing heavily, and trembling like a mess. “It’s… okay—for now.”

Sebastian is really awful at comforting, but it’s obvious he’s trying. He brushes a wet strand of hair away as the tears welling in your eyes pour down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry. That won’t do you any good,” he says firmly, but there’s no real malice in his tone. The cool scales of his hand brush against the wetness of your cheeks, sending a shiver rippling down your spine.

He just doesn’t know what to do with you. He hasn’t had to be gentle in years. Well, nor did he *want* to be gentle, but you won’t speak to him. Your face is all blank, staring off into nothing as if in a trance you can’t break free from.

Three arms reaching out for you, and you instinctively flinch away, earning a groan. “Alright, don’t be stupid,” he growls, “c’mon, you know damn well I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Clawed hands hover midair, so close yet so far away from your body. You finally make eye contact for the first time. He wouldn’t harm you; you know this.

He takes this eye contact as confirmation as coldness envelops your overheated (and sweaty) body. Two hands grab your waist as you’re hauled up and tucked into the crook of his arm. You scan the room, taking note of the *torn* Pandemonium lying lifeless on the concrete floors.

“You wanna say something?” his cold voice cuts through the brief silence, tearing your gaze from the bloodied mess on the floor and back up to him. You don’t wanna talk, so you shake your head instead, eliciting an annoyed “Suit yourself.”

You know better by now. He doesn’t really mean it. You can tell by the way he squeezes your shaking body a little closer to himself, as if silently comforting you. You’ll settle on that.

Sebastian slithers back toward his shop, and eventually, his third hand finds its way to your hair. He strokes ever so gently, mindful of the sharp talons. He squishes himself through doors as he proceeds forward. “You’re all sticky and gross, y’know?” he comments halfheartedly, chuckling at his own joke.

When you don’t laugh along with him, he leans down to press a perfunctory kiss to your forehead. Quietness settles between the two of you as he carries you through countless doors. You’re still shaken up, just as you are nearly every brush of death. In the distance, you can hear the creaking of old pipes, the shrill screams of unfortunate expendables, and ominous growls between the walls.

Eventually, the two of you arrive back at the familiar vent. Sebastian gingerly sets you back on your feet as he tears away the grate and motions for you to enter first. Nodding, you crouch down and military crawl through the vent till you’re at the other side. In one deft movement, Sebastian’s nimble body squeezes through the tight space and appears behind you.

“So I don’t imagine you picked up any goods,” he jokes, crossing his arms as he towers over you.

“Nope,” you answer meekly, turning to face him.

The response catches him off guard, three eyes widening in fleeting surprise. You’re silent for much, much longer after these sudden attacks. A faint smile graces his face as you receive a light knock on the head. “Maybe next time then.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, sinking to your feet and rubbing at the spot he had hit, “Maybe next time.”

Chapter Text

After your last encounter with Pandemonium, Sebastian understood why you preferred him looting instead.

You’ve been easing yourself back into the habit of it. Slowly but surely going on the occasional trip with Seb.

Sebastian slithers off, the scent of decay hitting his nostrils like a truck. There’s a dead expendable nearby—meaning fresh goods. This leaves you by yourself as you stick to something safer, settling on searching through drawers.

“Empty soda can, calculator…” you list off, tone filled with boredom. You’ve had no luck in finding anything except abundant amounts of loose assets. You’re busy shoving some vials and USB drives into your messenger bag when a shrill scream rings through your ears.

You nearly brush it off as an unlucky expendable, but it sounds like… Sebastian. You’re quick to drop the assets and race off into the direction of the pained yelp. He’s a few doors ahead of you already, and when you find him, he’s on the ground, clutching his side as blood pours from between his thick fingers.

“Seb!” you gasp breathlessly, discarding your bag and kneeling beside his quivering form.

“Hey, hey,” he grunts, three eyes squeezing shut to alleviate the pain, “It’s nuthin’. Damned wall dweller caught me off guard is all…”

“That’s not nothing!” you argue back immediately, hands hovering over his own. “Let me see it.”

He’s hesitant. He clutches his side a little tighter, but the worried look on your face makes him falter.

Sebastian retracts his bloodied hands, revealing the crimson mess and torn clothes left behind. Red pools underneath his torso and stains his white undershirt. You bite back a hiss at the sight of gore. Now is not the time, you remind yourself.

“This needs stitches,” you insist, climbing back to your feet while making a beeline for his long appendage. You tug one of the black straps wrapped around his tail that’s securing a medkit.

“You’re paying for that,” he grumbles weakly in response but doesn’t protest beyond that. With the kit clutched tightly in your hands, you’re back at his side in an instant. You slowly push up his ripped shirt, fingers gently brushing against the open wound and making him flinch.

“Sorry,” you murmur sincerely. You make haste in popping open the lid and sifting through the contents in search of a needle and thread. Once found, your shaking hands work to get the wire into the hole. You’re very obviously struggling when your frustrated complaints fill the silence.

Sebastian rolls his eyes (despite his lack of pupils, you’ve been getting to know his expressions better) and heaves a sigh. “You’re making this too difficult,” he groans, snatching the medical supplies from your hands. Even with his fleeting blood supply, he threads the needle with ease. Instead of handing it back, his fingers curl around the items and cage them between his hands. “I can do this. I’ve done it—“

“No!” you blurt out, desperately working in a futile attempt to unwrap his fingers and get your things back, “Let me help. I can help you!”

You’re persistent, he’ll give you that. “Being difficult again…” he mutters fondly, reluctantly handing you back the tools. You beam when they’re back in your palms. He trusts you enough to sew up his gash. “Go easy on me, okay, doc?”

You hum in acknowledgment while positioning yourself closer for easy access. You give him one last look, and Seb nods in confirmation for you to go on. You’d like to celebrate, but it’s not an appropriate time. You puncture the needle into the blue mixture of skin and scales. He hisses in pain as his claws grip the floor. His reaction makes you wince, but you can’t stop now.

You whisper soft apologies every time you make a piercing in his flesh. Your hands are soon drenched in blood as you tie off a cursory knot, but the wound is now closed. “I’m done,” you say softly, and Sebastian opens his eyes for the first time in minutes. His gaze shifts to you, then the stitches. Despite your lack of medical knowledge, you didn’t do half bad. ‘Course, he wouldn’t say that and instead settles on a grateful head pat.

He wearily brings himself back up to his tail, pulling his blood-drenched shirt down. You stare up at him expectantly, to which he grumbles a halfhearted “There’s room for improvement.” You’ll take that. “And you owe me a medkit now.”

“You found nothing good on the expendable?!”

His headfins twitch at your playful question to brighten the mood. “Nah. Nuthin’. Wasn’t worth it.”

Chapter Text

Winter was coming, and Sebastian could tell because the Blacksite’s temperature was dropping at rapid rates. It was worse than usual—being cold-blooded and all.

He attempts to focus on the information in the current file he was reading, but the harsh shivering of his body hinders the smooth turning of pages. The familiar clanging of a vent causes his esca to brighten a fraction. Perhaps in excitement. And he’s quick to set the manila folder aside.

When you pop out on the other side, you’re greeted with a low growl, “You!”

Climbing to your feet, you begin emptying the scavenged goods of your messenger bag onto the concrete floor.

“I don’t give a damn about the assets,” he hisses while grabbing your arm. His cool scales against your warm skin makes you shudder. To him, it gives a fleeting moment of respite. He makes haste of shedding the bag from your shoulders and coaxing you into his embrace. “You, uh, you wanna cuddle, right? You like that!”

The shaking doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and he looks a little frantic. “You wanna cuddle?” you ask, eyes narrowed as you scrutinize his panicked demeanor.

“What?” Sebastian instantly pulls back, feigned offense laced within his tone, “No! I just, I just know you like that kinda stuff.”

Normally, his presence is so steady and certain. Seeing him like this, it makes you think.

“You’re…” you begin slowly, “cold-blooded.”

He raises a brow at your words, headfins twitching as he leans down to your level. He braces himself on all three hands as his bright blue eyes train on yours. He knows you’re aware of what he’s up to. “Pssh, yeah, and what about it?”

You pause, already putting the puzzle pieces together. He’s not going to admit it, but he needs you for warmth. If you don’t give in, he’s just going to freeze. Silently. He’s just too stubborn to admit it. You simply give a defeated sigh and resigned nod while holding your arms out wide, “Yeah, I’d like to cuddle.”

In the blink of an eye, his large appendage curls beneath you and hoists you into his claws. His chilly flesh makes you jolt in surprise as he pulls you closer. His fins slap on the floor when he rubs his cheek against yours.

“So warm,” he murmurs, almost eagerly, as one hand slips beneath your shirt. It’s not out of lust or temptation, but simply to seek the heat that your body naturally provides. You yelp at the sensation, but it only makes his grip tighten. It’s not uncomfortable, though, just a bit snug.

Another cold hand slides under your shirt. By now, there’s a certain rumbling in his chest, something that almost sounds akin to purring. You’ve only heard it a few times before, and it makes your heart flutter in its rarity—despite the situation. “I’m dying,” he admits sarcastically, sharp talons grazing the skin of your back and causing a shiver to ripple down your spine.

The tremors that wracked his body just moments ago have seemed to slow down, become less violent. The scaly hands placed on your back have risen in temperature that nearly matches your own heat. His lure has dimmed to a mere flicker of yellow light.

He gingerly lowers you onto his cold tail, and before you know it, Sebastian is, albeit lovingly, wrapping around you. The appendage twists around your body, effectively trapping you within its coils like a snake. At least it’s not constricting—Seb wouldn’t dare hurt you like that, even with his more animalistic nature nowadays.

“Normally you’re not to keen on affection,” you comment, brow raised as if you don’t know.

“Well,” he sighs, leaning forward to grip your shoulders. Two hands creep beneath the fabric to feel the heat of your flesh, and it makes you jump, “Today is special.”

The next three months will be special, you think with a fond eye roll. You can feel the scales around you warming up already.

He leans forward, cool lips gracing your forehead. The light from his esca slowly goes out, enveloping the room in dark.

“Just hush,” he urges, nuzzling his face against your own, “I’m freezing.”

Chapter Text

You run a hand through his raven locks, eliciting a soft hum. Two arms are wound snugly around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your hair.

It was a mundane life living with Sebastian. For him, it was easier to convey affection through actions rather than words. Not that it bothered you much. It was the quiet moments like this you could cherish and enjoy.

You run a thumb over the scar etched into his skin. His eyes flutter open as he meets your gaze. Then, your stomach rumbles, ruining the peaceful moment and making Sebastian titter.

“Ah,” you breathe, a little disappointed, “Guess it’s time to make dinner.” At this, Seb grumbles and holds you a fraction tighter.

“It’s inevitable,” you chide, “We have to get up whether you like it or not.” You lean in to kiss his nose, and he finally loosens his grip.

“Fine,” he groans when you sit up.

You smile fondly and turn to watch him cuddle into the comforter. “Anything in particular you want?” you question, raising a brow. He mumbles unintelligibly in response through the thick fabric, and you simply shake your head.

Giving him one last squeeze of his arm, you’re off to the kitchen to start on dinner. You flit about the room before deciding on stir-fry. It was easy enough for tonight and something you were definitely in the mood for.

You empty the hard rice into a metal bowl, soft clinking sounding throughout the house. You pour cold water over it and work it around with your hands before draining.

While repeating the process, your focus is drawn away from the bedroom completely as you focus on the task of cooking. That is until a pair of hands rest on your waist. You jolt in surprise, concentration ruined. “Jeez…” you grumble, but you’re not actually all that upset, “You scared me half to death.”

“‘M sorry,” Sebastian murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. He doesn’t sound apologetic at all and, in fact, snickers. “What’s for dinner anyway?”

“Stir-fry,” you reply, “I was thinking we could use that leftover shrimp from a few nights ago.”

He hums in response, lovingly breathing in the scent that is so uniquely you.

“You wanna help?”

“Mm,” his arms wrap around you, tugging you into his warm embrace. That’s a definite ‘no.’

“Alright. You’re no help at all,” you laugh as you’re already back to washing the rice.

It’s not like he actively stops you from cooking. When you move about, he moves with you. Sure, it makes a bit difficult but certainly not impossible. He’s always touching you in some way, simply to show his affection. And, perhaps, today is just one of those days—the clingy ones.

He helps, just a little, like pouring soy sauce or sprinkling garlic into the sizzling pan as you stir around the veggies and meat. It’s not long before the food is already, and you plate two bowls of white rice with the goods on top.

“Here,” you say, holding out the warm china to him. At least it’s an excuse to use the glasses you got from your parents on your birthday. He mutters an incoherent complaint and reluctant pulls himself away from you. He takes the food and saunters off to the table.

You follow behind, two glasses of water, as well as your own bowl, balanced in your arms. Plopping down across from him, you slide the cup across the flat surface with a lovingly smile.

“Thanks for dinner,” he whispers softly as if not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment. He grabs a forkful of rice and veggies to shovel it into his mouth.

You chuckle, taking a sip of water, “You’re welcome.”

“I love you,” he says, swallowing the food in his cheeks. His socked foot gently nudges against your leg as he gives a dorky smile. It makes your heart flutter.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

You’ve been missing for several days.

Which is odd because you’re normally back in his shop within the hour.

And… Sebastian just hates to say he’s gotten worried. He’s already had P.AI.nter and Eyefestation searching every nook and cranny of the facility. He, himself, has checked every room that veered off the path, explored every vent, and hunted through door after door.

He fears the worse, but he can’t bring himself to say it. Not aloud.

He doesn’t even want to think it.

“Hello?” he calls aimlessly, his esca flickering to life as he scans the dark storage room. He should be at his shop right now, helping wayward expendables who were promised freedom if they retrieved the crystal.

He could be doing anything else.

But… he can’t bring himself to do anything else.

“Surely they’re here…” Sebastian murmurs to himself as he throws aside wooden crates. They crash loudly onto the concrete floors and splinter. He’s starting to believe you fell down one of those holes… as much as it sickens him. But surely you’re not that stupid—that’s what he tells himself anyway.

Sebastian remembers the way you would look at him. When you caught his gaze lingering for a bit too long. How your gentle hands caressed him just as if he were still human. Your warm skin against his cold scales.

He shakes his head to silence those painful memories. He’ll cut his losses for now. As much as he doesn’t want to, he will. Defeated, he pulls himself into the nearest vent shaft and clangs through it back to his shop.

He lowers his long appendage onto the ground with a sharp exhale. His lure illuminates the secret room and…

There are you are, sitting on the floor like you’re the brightest thing in the whole damn Blacksite. Relief floods through him like a wave, and he starts to tremble. In a deft movement, you’re swept into two arms, scaled cheek pressing against your soft body.

“Dear god,” he chokes back sobs, “where the hell have you been?” You’re pressed tighter into the coolness of his face. He soon gets a whiff of your scent, like sour milk, dirt, and mold.

“I got lost while scavenging,” you admit nervously as he pulls back to stare at you in his palms. He practically tore up the facility in search of you.

“And?”

“Lots of rooms, Seb,” you explain with forced laughter.

“You fell down a hole, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I fell down a hole, but for good reason! This angler was chasing me, and I couldn’t see where I was going!”

“And the walkie?”

“It fell. Further than I did.”

“God, it doesn’t even matter. I just don’t know if you’ll ever scavenge again,” he tuts disappointedly.

It took you days to climb up from that rift in the flooring. But you’ll cut your losses and never leave the shop again (not like you really like looting bodies anyway).

You press an apologetic kiss to his snout, to which he gratefully accepts. His mouth is much bigger than yours.

“Alright, stinky,” he pulls away, “Let’s go get you cleaned up…”