Chapter Text
Moonlight filtered into the seventh year Ravenclaw dorm, full and radiant, casting soft shadows in the seclusion of the shuttered canopy bed. It served to soften the contours of Sebastian’s sleeping face further, and the temptation to touch had become overwhelming.
Westley lifted a hand from where it rested against his chest, bringing it to the man’s face and tentatively brushing the loose waves from in front of his eyes. His brow twitched, and Westley stilled, chastising himself internally for potentially waking him.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Sebastian’s lips curled up slowly, though his eyes remained shut.
“As are you,” Westley murmured, tracing the lines of his face without reservation now.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked. Both eyes were open and searching, now.
“No,” Westley smiled and smoothed a thumb over the freckled pinch between his eyebrows. “I’m fine.”
For a few moments, they only stared. Between them, fingertips brushed over eyelashes, noses, lips, collarbones—every bump and dip exposed to the soft glow of the night. They hadn’t moved, otherwise; Sebastian’s head still rested in the crook of Westley’s arm, their legs were still tangled, and a small gap still laid between their chests.
“I could do this forever,” Sebastian whispered. Westley hummed a quiet agreement.
“Do you ever think about marriage?”
Westley blinked. A grin broke across his face, and he quirked an eyebrow. “Sallow, was that an attempt at a proposal?”
“Merlin, no,” Sebastian sputtered a laugh. “I’d like to think I have a bit more tact than that. I just—Marriage in general, I suppose...”
“Before I came to Hogwarts, the thought of marriage terrified me,” Westley said honestly, his smile fading considerably. “And once I got here, there was always something dragging my attention every which way, so I continued to not consider it much.”
Something indiscernible flickered across the brunette’s face—disappointment, perhaps. He opened his mouth to respond, and Westley interjected quickly.
“The last year has been rather quiet, though, hasn’t it? I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind a few times.” He worried his bottom lip, his pulse suddenly thundering in his ears. “Of what it might be like with you , of course,” he admitted quietly.
“Yeah?” The smile that took Sebastian’s face was so brilliant, Westley struggled to breathe for a moment. It stoked his courage a bit further.
“Where we might do it. Who might come. If my mum and Anne would attempt to coordinate dresses, like they tend to do—” Westley was rambling now, face flushing at his inability to stop at this point. “What sort of groom’s robes you might pick—and how absolutely wonderful I know you would look in them. And how much I’m going to cry because we both know how much of a bloody cry baby I am—”
Sebastian kissed him hard, effectively cutting him off and stealing the last of the air from his lungs. When he broke away, he was already grinning up at Westley again.
“I’m relieved to know we’re on the same page. I just—” Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “N.E.W.T.s are around the corner. Our time here is almost over, and we haven’t really discussed what’s next for us.”
“I know. I’ve…actually been meaning to have this discussion with you for a while,” Westley muttered. “I’ve just been a coward about it.”
“You’ve already got plans in mind?” Sebastian asked softly, clenching his jaw like he was bracing for poor news. Westley offered a reassuring smile and ran his thumb over the taut muscle, feeling it loosen a bit as he reached his chin.
“Over the winter holiday, mum was pestering me about whether we’d be living together come summer,” Westley started slowly, trying to gauge Sebastian’s reaction. He only stared, waiting for Westley to continue. “I told her I wasn’t sure yet if that was what you wanted.”
“It is. Very much so,” Sebastian blurted. “But I don’t understand. Is she just wondering, or is she giving us her blessing, or—
Westley pushed his index finger into the underside of Sebastian’s chin, and his mouth snapped shut. “She’s insisting we stay in Lightshore with her until at least one of us is properly settled into the workforce,” he said, lips curving up softly at the growing affection in Sebastian’s eyes. “She said she won’t tolerate watching us struggle simply because we’re stubborn.”
“I adore your mother,” Sebastian exhaled slowly, the steady build up of tension in his shoulders releasing in one heaving drop.
“She adores you, too.” Westley said. He huffed a laugh as the man twisted them, burying himself into Westley’s neck and squeezing his arms around his waist. One hand threaded into the chestnut mess on Sebastian’s head, and the other rubbed circles between his shoulderblades. His heartbeat calmed against Westley’s chest, and his breathing slowed as they laid in a comfortable stretch of silence.
“So if I were to propose—” Sebastian (who had not fallen asleep, evidently) mumbled into his skin. “I wouldn’t have to worry about a humiliating public rejection?”
“Incredibly unlikely,” Westley assured.
“Even if I do something…I don’t know—a bit over the top…?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, honestly,” Westley snorted.
“...Would you take my name?” Sebastian asked hesitantly.
Westley took a moment to consider. A large part of him wanted to, truthfully. But he also didn’t want to give up his father’s name any more than Sebastian did. “I can hyphenate,” he reasoned. Sebastian’s toothy grin pressed into his neck.
“ ‘Actually quite like ‘Sebastian Sallow-Orion,’ ” he hummed.
“You’d take mine, as well?” Westley laughed, unsure why he suddenly felt so shy.
“Want all of you,” Sebastian mumbled, his breath coming far slower now. “You hyphenate, I hyphenate.”
“Alright,” Westley agreed, his heart racing again. He was never going to sleep at this rate.
“Westley Orion-Sallow?”
“Sallow-Orion,” Westley corrected quietly, scratching his scalp gently. Sebastian murmured something unintelligible, but it seemed agreeable enough.
Hot breath tickled along the base of Westley’s neck, sending a burst of warmth through his chest. A wave of emotion crashed over him, and he blinked hard. His other arm came up to cradle Sebastian’s head, heavy with sleep, and he pressed a long kiss to his forehead.
“Gods, I love you.”