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Sebastian was fairly certain his arm was broken. Honestly, it wasn't all that surprising—he and Damien had spent the entire morning sledding, and things had quickly escalated into increasingly risky stunts, especially after Florence, Jaimsen, Poppy, and Tori joined in. Between the sharp turns and wild spins, something like this was bound to happen. But was he going to mention it? Absolutely not.
"One more run down the hill?" Damien said, the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks flushed a delightful pink from the frigid air.
Sebastian hesitated. As much as he wanted to say yes, the dull throb in his arm made the decision for him. "I think I'll sit this one out," he said, dropping into the snow. He maneuvered his arm into what he hoped was a less excruciating position, all while forcing a grin to stay firmly plastered in place.
"Come on, Sebastian!" Poppy shouted from the top of the hill, cupping her hands around her mouth. Tori was beside her, placing the finishing touches on a rather impressive looking snowman. She'd gone so far as to give it a perfectly sculpted mustache. In the words of Tori, it was molto bene . "One more run!" Poppy continued. "Don't be a coward." Her grin turned mischievous as she whipped a snowball from behind her back and lobbed it straight at him.
The snowball struck Sebastian squarely in the chest, and he let out a strangled shout. The sudden jolt sent a fresh wave of agony through his arm; he tried and failed to stop his eyes from watering.
Damien noticed. Because of course he did.
"Sebastian!" Damien called, abandoning his sled entirely. He sprinted down the hill, skidding to a halt only after sending a flurry of snow over Cal and Val, who had been making snow angels on the ground. They yelped indignantly.
"Poppy, stop it! He's hurt!" Damien yelled.
Florence and Jaimsen paused in their climb up the hill as Poppy exclaimed, "Oh no! I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Sebastian." Sebastian could've sworn he heard Tori mutter under her breath, "He's probably faking it," but his arm hurt far too much to argue.
Sebastian waved Damien off weakly with his good arm. "I'm fine."
"You're not," Damien said, sinking to his knees beside him. His hands fluttered in the air uncertainly for a moment before settling on Sebastian's shoulder. "I saw your face. You're in pain."
Sebastian groaned but didn't resist as Damien's fingers moved with practiced care, feeling for injuries. In fact, it felt rather nice. Not that Sebastian would ever admit that aloud. When Damien gently touched the back of his head and made steady, piercing eye contact with him, Sebastian bit back a laugh. "Relax, I don't have a concussion."
"Where does it hurt?" Damien asked, clearly unamused.
Sebastian sighed. "My arm."
Damien's brow furrowed, and he leaned closer, inspecting the awkward angle at which Sebastian cradled his arm. "Why didn't you say anything? You—"
"Because," Sebastian cut in, "I didn't want to ruin the fun."
Damien tossed him an exasperated look. "You're truly maddening the majority of the time." He stood back up and glanced toward the others further up the hill. "Stay here," he commanded. "I'll get a Wiggenweld from my satchel, then we can head to the infirmary."
Before Sebastian could argue, Damien was already marching back up the hill, pausing just long enough to fling a snowball of his own at Poppy. "That was for Bash!" he yelled. His throw must have been a force to be reckoned with for Poppy fell backward with a loud oof the instant it made contact with her petite body.
Sebastian laughed despite himself, which dissolved into a groan as his arm protested. Trust Damien to fuss over him and still find time for revenge. How very typical.
After a talking down from Tori, Damien returned with a small vial of Wiggenweld in hand. He knelt beside Sebastian, proffering it to him. "This will help," he said.
Sebastian downed the potion in one massive gulp. As the warmth spread from his mouth, down his throat, and finally to his arm, where it settled like a warm blanket, he smiled up at Damien. "Thanks," he murmured.
Damien brushed a stray curl away from Sebastian's face, tucking it lovingly behind his ear. "Anytime. But," he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from Sebastian's, "next time, let me know sooner."
The pain in Sebastian's arm was momentarily forgotten. "Are you going to kiss me now, or make me wait?"
Damien chuckled. "Hm, hard to say," he teased before finally planting a quick peck on Sebastian's lips.
Sebastian would have pulled him in for a deeper kiss, but Damien jumped away. "Infirmary first. Kissing later."
"Fine," Sebastian whinged, "but I'm holding you to that."
"As you should."
"Don't you forget now."
Damien mock-gasped. "I'd never!"
Merlin, this boy.
"You two haven't left yet?" Tori shouted from the top of the hill. "Get a move on!"
"We're going, we're going," Sebastian replied, as Damien helped him to his feet, a sly smile on his face.
Infirmary now, kissing later. It was a plan. Maybe breaking his arm wasn't such a bad thing after all.