Chapter Text
Ominis first noticed him a few days into his summer break.
The new neighbour was moving into the house across the street, directly opposite his own. At first, Ominis hadn't paid much attention to the newcomer, and he definitely hadn't felt the urge to go out and say hello.
That was until Ominis heard him laugh for the first time. This crystal clear, sunny and absurdly beautiful laugh that rang out across the empty street as if it had always belonged there. Like it was the only thing that had ever been missing from his life.
For some reason, it struck something deep in Ominis' chest. Something hot and consuming. It felt like a volcano that had lain dormant for a century suddenly stirred to life, erupting violently inside him, with its molten heat spreading through his entire body with a force he wasn’t able to tame.
Of course, Marvolo, unfortunately present for his weekly visit, had wasted no time in leaning dramatically over the living room table by the open window to narrate every little detail about this new neighbour like an overambitious sports commentator.
"He's about your age. Medium height. Curly brown hair. Freckles for days. And he has broad shoulders that do very, very good things to that shirt…"
It wasn’t as though Ominis cared much for appearances. But still... there was something about the man. Something in the mischievous yet still honeyed tone of his voice that hooked Ominis instantly. He found himself listening with unusual focus, his ears strained to catch every word as the man spoke softly to whoever was helping him unload his possessions from the moving lorry.
Suddenly, Ominis’s whole body tingled as if a thousand butterflies were gently flapping their wings against his skin. An absurd urge to step outside and kiss the man right there and then rose inside him. He gave himself a quick shake, turning his head away from the window and trying to shut out both the intrusive thought and Marvolo’s never-ending commentary in the background.
What was suddenly wrong with him?
Why couldn't he distance himself from the resonance of that voice, or the strange way it still reverberated inside?
Why had a complete stranger left such a deep impression on him after only a few seconds?
Something inside screamed at him to do the one single thing he would never do under normal circumstances in a situation like this: give in.
Without fully thinking it through, he got up and stepped outside. The door clicked shut softly behind him. He tilted his head slightly as he tuned in to the familiar sound of the street. Though perhaps, deep down, he was also hoping to hear his new neighbour's voice up close again.
It wasn't until Ominis was about seven cautious steps from the kerb that he realised he'd forgotten his white cane by the door in his haste to get outside. But he was way too far out already to turn back now without looking completely obvious.
With a bit of luck, he could maybe pass for someone taking a casual yet graceful stroll to grab their mail. Slowly he moved himself forward, familiar with every step of the path and every layer of gravel beneath his Oxfords.
Thankfully, there were actual letters inside the box. Ominis retrieved the envelopes and flipped through them, adjusting his imaginary line of sight as best he could as he pretended to skim through the contents he obviously couldn't even read.
From across the street came the creak of a lorry door, followed by the low grunt of effort of someone lifting something very heavy. Footsteps shuffled along the pavement. They were clearly weighted and strained.
But then the sound stopped abruptly. A quick pause ensued before a heavy object was set down. The footsteps approached Ominis with quick strides now, before they slowed down inexplicably.
Maybe they even became a little hesitant.
Ominis' pulse spiked into oblivion as a soft throat clearing rang out right in front of him.
"Hey. I'm Sebastian," the new neighbour introduced himself. Ominis' knees threatened to give out beneath him. "Looks like we’ll be neighbours from now on. I'm moving into my uncle's old place. Just got here a few hours ago."
The way he spoke was so endearing that Ominis almost dropped the letters clutched in his hand. "I'm Ominis. Ominis Gaunt," he croaked through his constricted throat, tripping over his own name as if it had suddenly gained some extra syllables. "I live here," he added immediately as he gestured vaguely towards his house.
Why on earth had he given his full name?
And why had he said that he lived here, as if it wasn't completely obvious?
And why, oh, why had his usual collected composure and wit completely vanished?
He felt completely ridiculous.
On autopilot, he managed to at least extend an arm. A soft and warm hand grabbed his.
"Nice to meet you, Ominis."
The way his name rolled off Sebastian's tongue made the volcano in Ominis' chest straight up erupt again. For a second, he forgot to breathe altogether. His mouth was completely dry from all the heat inside.
Sebastian laughed. It was a shy little thing. The sound gently pulled Ominis back into himself and he managed a tentative smile in return. He could only hope it didn't look nearly as awkward as it felt.
Before Ominis could think of anything else to say though, a voice rang out across the quiet street, severing whatever had been going on between them.
"Hey! Sebastian! Where do you want me to put your trusty old sex swing?"
Ominis' body froze at the comment. Except for his mouth, which fell open at the same time as his cheeks started to burn like a wildfire.
Another set of footsteps came from the direction of the truck. They were light as a delicate feather, but still purposeful. Sebastian promptly let go of Ominis' hand.
"Anne!" Sebastian groaned, the humiliation seeping deep into his tone. Ominis could only imagine the look on Sebastian's face as something between horror and long-suffering annoyance.
But Ominis was just as flustered. His neck prickled with flaming hot mortification.
Of course, someone had been watching. Listening to their awkward encounter. Probably the entire time.
Ominis took a slow and grounding breath. He was a Gaunt, for God's sake.
Trying to regain what little dignity he had left after this weird interaction, Ominis turned sharply and walked briskly back to his front door, spine straight as he brushed some imaginary dust off his shirt with what he hoped looked like polished nonchalance.
"Welcome to the neighbourhood," he called over his shoulder, just loud enough to reach them. Hastily, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
The snap of the latch had barely died down when he heard Sebastian again, half laughing, but also sounding half deflated.
"Do you always have to ruin my chances of meeting new people, dear sister?"
"Hey, I’m just helping you break the ice!” the girl Sebastian had called Anne earlier shot back. She sounded clearly pleased with herself. Her joyfull laughter bubbled up and carried down the street as their footsteps receded.
Ominis let himself sag against the heavy wooden door. He tossed those dumb letters aside.
He could feel Marvolo standing in the doorway to the living room, staring at him with a giant and satisfied smirk all over his face.
What a brilliant start.
*
Over the next couple weeks, Ominis learned more about Sebastian, always from the safety of his home as he deciphered the sounds drifting through his open living room window.
Sebastian liked to have his tea with two cubes of sugar and a book on the front porch. He was often accompanied by his sister, whose voice always held a delicate tremble that Ominis found oddly endearing, but also a bit concerning. Whenever she came to visit, the brother-sister-duo would quickly fall into spirited debates. They sparred over politics, new scientific discoveries or whatever else had caught their attention that week. It didn’t take Ominis long to realise that Sebastian was as quick-witted as he was insufferably smug.
Aside from books and arguments, Sebastian’s other passion was his garden. Ominis would often hear the scrape of a shovel, the thud of a spade meeting dry earth, and the strained huffs of effort as Sebastian worked in his big front yard. There was always a melodious whistle or tune on his lips, accompanying the work. It felt as if he was always renovating, planting fragrant flowers and herbs as he reshaped the space into something that probably felt more his own than whatever that asshole of an uncle Ominis had never liked had left behind.
One sunny day, the steady rhythm of hammering and sawing echoed through the evening air.
And much to Ominis’ unbridled delight, birds began to gather outside his window only a few days later. Their joyful chirping quickly became a constant backdrop to his days. Ominis liked to imagine Sebastian had built them birdhouses to lure them into their street with a comfortable home and some pumpkins seeds.
It felt like exactly the sort of thing he’d would do.
Sebastian was kind, too. Ominis often heard him chatting with Mr Fig, the eccentric and borderline crazy old man next door, who proudly told anyone who’d listen that he’d once been a powerful wizard in some sort of former life. But unlike all the other neighbours, Sebastian never laughed at him or brushed him off. He’d offer to carry the old man’s groceries inside, even though Mr Fig’s house always smelled strongly of, well, old people. Ominis had never been able to place the scent, other than it reminded him of overcooked cabbage. But Sebastian never seemed to mind.
However, despite everything Ominis had learned about Sebastian over the past weeks, a couple of questions still lingered in his mind. Did Sebastian have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? And what did he do for a living?
His sister stopped by often, but no one else came. No other person stayed long enough to offer any real clues.
At first, Ominis assumed Sebastian might be a fitness instructor. Despite all the manual labour in his garden, he went jogging every day without fail. A few times, Ominis heard the familiar click of a bike leaving way too early in the morning. Sometimes even very late in the evening. It fit the theory.
Kind of.
But then, a few days later, Sebasitan’s front door opened again. This time, just after midnight. Tires crunched on gravel. The very same tyres that Ominis was now able to distinguish in his sleep from all the others. The exact same thing happened the next night. And the one after that.
Who works out around midnight?
Right, nobody.
So, the theory about the fitness instructor didn’t hold for long.
Shift worker, then.
It was the only thing that made sense.
*
Another week passed, and Ominis was beginning to feel like his stalker tendencies were spiralling just a touch out of control.
He hadn’t accomplished much since the university had gone on break. That needed to change as quickly as possible.
He sat quietly for a moment to collect himself before mentally listing out the things he wanted to tackle over the next few days. House chores were unfortunately non-negotiable. Grading music compositions, planning lectures and the general chaos of teaching classical piano didn’t leave much space during the semester to handle the big things like renovating, organising, and doing actual laundry.
He also wanted to catch up with Imelda, the closest thing he had to a friend. It had been more than two months since they’d last spoken.
And, inevitably, he’d need to brace himself for yet another unannounced visit from his brother Marvolo. However unwillingly.
Perhaps he could make it downtown for a change of scenery and to get his mind of things. There was an old jazz club a few blocks over. The one with worn velvet booths and the lingering scent of aged wood and black coffee. Just thinking about good music and a perfectly brewed espresso made the tension in Ominis' chest ease a little.
For once, his brain wasn’t solely focused on Sebastian. And that, in itself, felt like real progress.
He rose from the couch and had just started making his way toward the kitchen when he heard heavy footsteps making their way over the gravel outside his house, followed by the high-pitched chime of the doorbell.
Ominis breath caught. Slowly, he walked to the door. His hand hesitated on the knob for only a moment before he pulled it open.
Of course, it was Sebastian who greeted him on the other side.
"Hey, er… Ominis, right? It’s me Sebastian, the new neighbour from across the street…"
Ominis could only nod. He was too stunned to speak.
Sebastian cleared his throat. There was the sound of shoes shifting on the doormat. "Actually, I’m trying to bake a cake... Not that I’m a great baker or anything, but, you know, I thought I’d give it a try. And, er, I was wondering if you maybe could spare some flour?"
Ominis caught the slight strain in his voice. Sebastian sounded like he’d been running a marathon, his breath catching just slightly at the end of each sentence. A hint of sweat clung in the air, mixed with the scent of old paper and black tea.
There was the wet rustle of fingers raking through damp hair as Ominis tried to remember how to produce words with his mouth.
“It’s for my sister’s birthday,” Sebastian went on, after an awkward pause had settled. A sheepish laugh escaped him. "And, well... mine too."
At that, Ominis finally got ahold of himself. He practically sprinted into the kitchen, his fingers skimming over the Braille labels with a speed that suggested his life depended on it.
He quickly returned with two full bags of flour, because why make it only one if you had two, holding them out with both hands. Their fingers brushed as Sebastian took them. It was just a moment, but Sebastian’s skin was surprisingly soft, despite all the manual work he had done the last couple of weeks. His grip as he took the bags of flour from Ominis was casual and inviting. And, of course, it was gone way too soon.
“Thank you so much,” Sebastian said breathlessly, already jogging back across the path to his house. His footsteps faded with the distance. The door of Sebastiaan’s house closed behind him with a heavy thud.
But the sound of his laugh lingered in the humid summer air like a charm. It was instantly woven into Ominis’ mind like a beautiful song. And for the rest of the evening, he found himself replaying it again and again and again.
He quietly wondered what he might do to hear it again.
*
The following day, Ominis called Imelda to check in. She was on standby and not on a plane flying halfway across the world for once, so they actually had time to talk.
Settling into his favourite leather armchair, Ominis relaxed and let her voice fill the quiet as she launched into a breathless retelling of her latest adventure with her boyfriend Garreth.
“After this way over the top brunch, that absolute honk took me on a long walk through the forest. We ended up at the old castle. You remember, the one we used to play at as kids? And then, all dramatic, he said he had something really important to ask me.”
She paused. The silence was loaded. She was clearly wating for him to ask.
Ominis played along. “What was it?”
“He said he’s so deeply in love with me that he wants us to move in together,” she huffed, sounding annoyed but unmistakably also very much delighted.
Ominis couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well, I’m glad someone finally managed to worm his way into your heart. He’s probably the first remotely acceptable man you’ve ever dated.”
“He is,” she replied, her words softened by a sigh. “I actually think he might be the one.”
Ominis raised his brows. “And what led to this life-altering revelation? Did he serenade you in the forest? Recite poetry under the stars? Finally manage to beat you in arm wrestling?”
“Ha! No! Beating me in arm wrestling? That would never happen.” Imelda’s deep snort rang out through the line. “But well, it was nothing dramatic. No grand gestures or skywriting or anything. It’s just all the little things.”
Ominis leaned back, listening as her voice dropped even quieter.
“The way he kisses my forehead. How he always opens doors without making a thing of it. Or when he admits what we all know: That I’m the best person to ever walk this planet. And sometimes, when he looks at me, it’s like I already belong to him. Like I’m already home. You know what I mean?”
Ominis didn’t respond right away. Because no. He didn’t know what she meant.
No one he’d ever dated had made him feel that way. And if he was honest, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. Because it sounded kind of terrifying. Loving someone that deeply, being known like that. It just seemed like the perfect recipe for devastation.
He’d learned first-hand what that kind of vulnerability could do.
His mother had once loved his father with everything she had, or so his brother told him.
And what had it earned her?
Right, nothing.
His father had been cruel and ruthless to her. Indifferent at his best of times. Just like he’d been with all of his children. And now his mother barely left her room, emotionally vacant like a shadow drifting through their lives.
So, no. Ominis wasn’t convinced that kind of love was worth the risk.
But he didn’t say any of that. He just nodded faintly, even though Imelda couldn’t see it.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I think you’re much braver than I am when it comes to these things.”
She let out a long breath. “You overthink everything. You always have. And I get it: You’re scared of turning into some cliché version of a Gaunt, even if you won’t admit it. But sometimes, you’ve got to stop thinking and just feel. When the right guy comes along, you’ll know. And when that happens, promise me you’ll let yourself go for it.”
Ominis swallowed hard. But he couldn’t say no to her, despite her being a bloody menace most of the time.
“Well,” he said. “I’ll guess I try.”
There was a beat of quiet. Then Imelda’s tone lifted into her typical light and snarky lilt again.
“So, speaking of it: You’re on break for a while. Any men catch your attention lately? I get this uncanny feeling, that there is someone.”
Ominis thoughts immediately jumped to Sebastian. And unfortunately, so did his pulse.
The last thing he wanted was to confess how closely he’d been tracking his neighbour’s every move. Especially not to Imelda, who would never ever let him live it down.
Unfortunately, she noticed his hesitation and immediately pounced.
“Oh my god. I’m right. There is someone, isn’t there? Spill it. I just got paged and I’ve got, like, five minutes left tops.”
After a bit of protest, Ominis gave in. He told her about the new neighbour across the street. About how he’d first heard his laugh while he was moving in. About how unique, rich and sexy his voice was. About how often he caught himself listening in without even meaning to.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he finally admitted.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Imelda said. “Now, if you went out and bought a sound detector just to keep tabs on him, then I’d worry. But honestly? It seems like you’re into him.”
“I don’t even know him properly,” Ominis said. “And for all I know, he could have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Or both.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” Imelda pushed. “You’re doing that thing where you talk yourself out of something before it even has the chance to happen. You like him. That’s already something.”
Ominis shoulders dropped.
“You need to talk to him. Properly. Get to know him. And don’t give me that ‘but what if’ crap. You’re intelligent, you’re unfairly handsome, and you’ve got a stupid amount of money. So go over there, bring him a nice bottle of champagne or whiskey or something equally classy and expensive, and give him a proper welcome.”
She laughed. “Wait, scratch that. Definitely no alcohol. You’re a complete disaster when you’re drunk and that’s not the first impression you want to make.”
Ominis chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Oh, please. Remember that Halloween party at Garreth’s last year? Where that coat rack Hobhouse tried to flirt with you and you weren’t having it? You went ahead and spilled an entire glass of red wine down his white shirt and pants. I know what I’m talking about.”
He groaned. “I thought we agreed to never speak of that again.”
“Not a chance. You idiot even pulled the blind boy card for that shit.”
They both laughed. The kind of easy and unfiltered laughter only old friends could share. But then her tone shifted as if she had changed the frequency without warning.
“In all seriousness,” she said, “you’ve got nothing to lose. Talk to him and see what happens. Worst case? It’s a little awkward. Best case? You find someone who makes the world feel a little less lonely.”
Ominis sat with her words for a moment, chewing on the thought like a bitter pill he didn’t knew how to swallow.
“Maybe you’re right,” he admitted finally. “Maybe I should really take this leap of faith. Though at this point, I’m starting to feel like Sting in Every Breath You Take.”
Imelda burst out laughing. “God, that’s such a great song though. Now I’m going to have that song stuck in my head all day. So tomorrow, you’re actually going to go over there and talk to him, are you?”
Ominis sighed dramatically. “I suppose you’ve convinced me. Hopefully I manage to string together something that sounds vaguely articulate this time. I can only hope this dumb nervousness I feel whenever he’s around doesn’t make me throw up.”
“You’re the definition of poise, charm, and superiority, Gaunt. That’s why we fit so well,” Imelda chuckled. “And why you have nothing to worry about.”
There was a brief pause on her end. Then: “Okay, I’ve got to head out. Call me after you’ve spoken to him. Preferably without having vomited all over his shirt.”
Ominis gave a dry laugh. “Have a good flight.”
“Go win this man,” she said with a wink tucked into her voice before she hung up.
Ominis let the phone fall into his lap and sat there in the quiet for a long while. His fingers tapped restlessly against the fabric of the chair.
Maybe this time, he really would take that leap.
Maybe.
*
The next day, Ominis’ half-baked plans to talk to Sebastian were derailed before they even had a chance to unfold.
Marvolo had called that morning, breathless with yet another dramatic claim of an acute “family emergency.” Against his better judgment, and perhaps out of some misplaced karmic obligation, Ominis agreed to attend whatever dysfunctional gathering the Gaunts were calling sacred this time.
He sat stiffly in the passenger seat of Marvolo’s smoked up car and tried his best not to breathe in too deeply to avoid what surely would be immediate lung cancer. The stale stench of his brothers’ favourite cigarettes really clung to the interior like a bad memory.
They paused at an intersection near the town’s main road. Ominis tilted his head against the cool glass of the window and tuned out Marvolo’s endless muttered commentary about bad traffic, idiot drivers and uncanny family politics. His thoughts were elsewhere anyway.
Sebastian.
Ominis turned the name over in his mind like a smooth palm stone. Nervous energy was building in the pit of his stomach. He needed to introduce himself properly. No more awkward doorstep exchanges and no more stolen moments through half-open windows. After family dinner, he told himself, he’d stop by and say something. Bring over a wine and maybe even some French Macarons.
If he didn’t do it today, he might never work up the nerve.
The light must’ve turned, because Marvolo accelerated again and Ominis was pushed back by the force into his seat. Apparently, Marvolo was eager to get them to the Gaunt manor in record time.
Then everything happened all at once.
A sharp honk split the air.
Marvolo gasped.
Their car swerved.
Tires screeched across pavement. Far too fast and far too close.
Then the loudest bang.
Metal crumpled like thin paper right beside Ominis. Glass shattered. Airbags exploded in a powdery burst.
The world flipped. Imploded. Twisted. Tilted upside down and then back around.
Unplaceable screams tore through the air as the world escaped him and broke apart.
Something slammed into Ominis ribs, crushing the air from his lungs. His forehead struck something hard.
And then there was only one thing: Silence.
It was so unnatural and heavy it seemed to ring louder in Ominis’ ears than any sound he’d ever heard before.
*
Ominis had lost all sense of being.
There was only a calm and soft peace that held him like an old friend. For the first time in what felt like years, he was completely weightless. There was no noise. No pressure. No fear. Just the gentle and steady stream of nothingness.
He didn’t want to leave it, but there was something dangerous meandering through the calm.
It was a smell: Harsh and acrid.
Ash, smoke, burnt rubber. Something metallic.
The peace shattered.
Slowly, Ominis’ other senses found their way back as well. Something warm and wet was trickling down his face.
Then there was pain. It was everywhere, but somehow it also felt distant like it was smothered behind a pillow. Voices echoed around him, but they were distorted like voices deep underwater. Multiple sirens throbbed in the far background.
And beneath it all, there was Marvolo. As always swearing, ranting and cursing like the world personally owed him something.
Oddly enough though, it pulled back Ominis more than anything else.
The familiar cigarette smell grew nearer and Marvolo’s voice soon followed as he approached from who knows where. “Hey, hey. Don’t move, Ominis. You’ll be okay,” his brothers' untypically hysterical and strained voice cut through the haze, close to Ominis’ ear. “Emergency services are already on their way here.”
Ominis tried to respond, to asks one of the million questions floating in his brain, but his mouth refused to move. His thoughts were clouded. His body felt heavier than stone. All he wanted was to sink back into that warm and inviting quiet where none of this could touch him.
But just as he began to fade again, one last thing broke through.
It was a mixture of a laugh and a sob. “I’m personally going to hunt you down in the afterlife brother if you have the fucking audacity to die on me today.”
*
Ominis’ mind gradually began to stir as he drifted closer to the surface of consciousness once more.
The peaceful nothingness was gone again, replaced by utter chaos this time.
Where was he?
There were loud and clipped voices. Heavy machinery whirred nearby. The sterile smell of some kind of chemical filled his nose. A steady thrum of something wet pulsed in the crook of his elbow, spreading icy coldness from his arm into the rest of his body. He knew that feeling well enough from the many hospital visits he had to endure as a child.
It was an IV.
He twitched his fingers experimentally, like he was summoning them back to life. Then, an unexpected scent reached him. Old paper. Black tea. A hint of earth.
It instantly comforted him. He knew that smell somehow, but nothing made sense.
A pair of gloved yet somehow still warm hands cradled his pounding head. At the same time, something stiff and plastic was fastened gently around his neck.
What was happening?
Desperate for orientation, Ominis reached forward. His hand trembled, until it made contact with something soft and solid. Someone was there. His fingertips brushed against fabric, then paused as they hovered over a sleeve. He felt an embroidered emblem beneath his touch.
"Ominis, can you hear me now?" An all-too-familiar voice asked, clearly concerned.
Was it a dream? Why was he here?
Ominis let his hand drift lower over the rough material. His fingers shook as they found a patch. This was definitely a uniform. The raised stitching was distinct enough for Ominis to make the letters out.
"Sebastian?" he rasped. His voice was terribly hoarse and cracked. The name came out totally butchered.
"Yeah." Sebastian's words were thick with relief. "I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear your voice again."