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Sebastian spots him for the first time on the second day of term. The new kid.
He’s standing by the lockers, leafing through a thick book, his back to the corridor. Sebastian nudges Garreth with his elbow.
“Who’s that?” He nods towards the unfamiliar figure.
Garreth follows his gaze. “Oh. That’s Ominis Gaunt. New. Old money, apparently. I think he’s on the music course. Classical piano.”
“Hm.” Sebastian studies him from behind. A waistcoat, cinched neatly at the back, showing off a narrow waist. Blond hair that looks soft even from this distance. Then the boy turns slightly, just for a second, revealing a sharp profile, straight nose, jawline bordering on criminal.
“He’s fit,” Sebastian remarks casually, thoughtfully.
Garreth frowns. “Sure. I heard he’s blind. Not that it’s a problem, but—”
Ominis turns fully now, and Sebastian notices the white cane looped around his wrist with a cord. His pale grey, unseeing gaze sweeps across the corridor. His lips, too, are criminally well-shaped. Sebastian makes up his mind.
“I’m going to ask him out.”
Garreth groans. “Do you have to flirt with everything that has two legs? Besides, he’ll probably think you’re doing it out of pity.”
Sebastian ignores him. He straightens a little, runs a hand through his hair — even though he realises it’s probably pointless — and heads over. He leans against the locker beside Ominis, casual, the way girls usually love when he does it. Ominis hears him approach and lifts an eyebrow.
“Hi,” Sebastian says slowly, with an easy drawl.
Ominis’ voice is cautious, faintly amused when he replies, “Hi.”
“New here?”
Both eyebrows lift now, in a clear are you serious?
“What makes you think that?”
Sebastian pastes on his most charming smile, exaggerating the lazy tone just a touch.
“I think I’d remember a face like yours.”
Ominis doesn’t blush. He doesn’t stammer or look flustered. If anything, he seems more guarded, as if Sebastian might be taking the piss.
“Funny.”
“No, seriously. You’ve got absurdly good features. That jawline? You could cut glass with it.”
Ominis squints slightly in Sebastian’s direction, as if weighing his intentions.
“What do you actually want?”
Right. Straight to the point. No problem. Sometimes it’s more fun to go straight for the prize.
“I want a date. Preferably this Friday. I can pick you up in my car.”
Ominis closes his locker, a thick bundle of papers tucked under his arm, embossed with what looks like Braille. He tilts his head a little, and Sebastian realises he’s a centimetre or two taller than him. Sexy. Then he says:
“No, thank you.”
And turns away.
Sebastian stares after him, mouth slightly open. For a moment he wonders if he’s misunderstood something, or if he wasn’t clear enough. But no — he asked for a date. Crystal clear.
Ominis disappears around the corner, and determination settles heavy and warm in Sebastian’s chest.
Well.
He’s always liked a challenge.
The next time he tries is at lunch a few days later. Ominis is sitting alone in the cafeteria, airpods in, a lunch tray in front of him. Garreth catches the look in Sebastian’s eyes and shakes his head.
“Seriously. He said no last time. Can’t you let it go?”
Sebastian cannot let it go.
He leaves Garreth behind with the rest of their friends and heads over. He drops his tray onto the table with more force than necessary, just to announce himself. Ominis tilts his head slightly, pops out his airpods, but otherwise doesn’t react.
“And here you are,” Sebastian says, sitting down.
“Here I am,” Ominis echoes, reaching for his drink. Sebastian watches as those pink lips close around the straw. Ominis looks especially good today, in a light shirt and waistcoat. Sebastian’s confidence flares.
“Fancy that,” he says. “Here we are, eating together in a grim, noisy cafeteria, when we could be sitting in a nice restaurant, tasting wine.”
Ominis smiles faintly, as if he finds Sebastian rather endearing.
“You don’t really strike me as the wine type.”
“I’m not,” Sebastian agrees easily. “But you are. And I’m adaptable.”
Ominis looks thoughtful for a moment. “Do your conquests usually fall for you because you take them out to dinner first?”
Sebastian is momentarily thrown by the bluntness.
“Sometimes,” he says. “But I’m also perfectly happy skipping dinner and going straight back to my place.”
That is, apparently, the wrong answer. Ominis shakes his head and stands, despite not having touched his sandwich.
“Thanks for the company,” he says, unfolding his cane and walking away.
Sebastian watches him go, biting his lip.
Ominis is a tough nut to crack.
Good thing Sebastian enjoys working for what he wants.
It becomes a sort of routine.
Sebastian asks Ominis out. Constantly. He passes him in the corridor and calls out, “Hey, Gaunt! You, me, brunch on Saturday!” They get paired up by a lecturer for silent reading, and Sebastian leans in to whisper, “We could be sitting like this, only in a proper restaurant.”
Ominis turns a corner and nearly collides with him; Sebastian steadies him with a hand on his arm, and says, with unmistakable teasing in his voice, “Careful. You might fall for me.”
On average, Sebastian reckons he asks Ominis out twice a week. It’s probably more. The leaves on the trees turn yellow, then brown, then fall completely, replaced by thin layers of snow. Sebastian invites Ominis to his lacrosse matches, to dinners at restaurants his sister swears are good, to the premiere of a new film, to an art exhibition in town, to Imelda Reyes’ winter party.
And every single time, Ominis says no.
He rolls his eyes, sighs a little.
“You wish, Sallow.”
“In your dreams.”
“Don’t you have lacrosse practice or a resit to run off to?”
Sebastian doesn’t know why it only makes him want to keep trying. He’s never latched onto someone like this before. Usually he gives up after two or three attempts, but there’s something compelling about Ominis. Something that has nothing to do with how criminally good he looks in a dark green scarf that is very obviously designer, and grey earmuffs that make him look absurdly cute in the winter gloom.
Sebastian isn’t used to anyone resisting his charm. Ominis… intrigues him. He wants him. Genuinely.
That’s why it stings a little every time Ominis frowns and shoots him down, as though the idea of being with him is laughable.
But Sebastian is good at pasting on a smile and laughing his feelings away.
The party is dull.
Ominis isn’t sure why he let Garreth talk him into coming. The beer in his hand is lukewarm, people keep bumping into him, and the music makes it impossible to make out any real conversation. Garreth has dutifully stayed by Ominis’ side for a few hours, guiding him through Imelda’s house and pointing out who’s there, but Ominis doesn’t know most of them, and they don’t know him.
It occurs to him that the person he’s spoken to most at uni, apart from Garreth, is Sebastian. And Sebastian hasn’t been mentioned once as Garreth lists the guests, like a table of contents.
Ominis doesn’t know why that disappoints him.
He leans back against the wall and tries to look unbothered, as though he’s enjoying the music, even though it’s the sort of screechy hard rock that gives him a headache. Ominis prefers classical music, piano especially, which perhaps isn’t surprising given his degree. He can practically hear Sebastian’s voice in his head if he ever found out, something along the lines of, of course, along with the designer wardrobe and the aristocratic posture, it’s probably illegal for you to listen to anything but Chopin.
He grins to himself, then startles. Where did that thought come from?
And as if summoned by it, someone comes to a stop beside him. He recognises that cologne far too easily, recognises the lazy footsteps before the voice even speaks.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t think I’d see you here,” Sebastian drawls, taking a sip of his drink.
Ominis tightens his grip on the can. “Neither did I,” he says flatly. “Garreth convinced me.”
There’s a brief pause of surprise, and it hits Ominis that he doesn’t know whether Garreth has told Sebastian they’re friends. Garreth and Sebastian are the clichéd jock duo: Garreth the golden retriever, making everyone laugh and want to hang around, and Sebastian — allegedly — the magnet, drawing girls and boys alike in, just for a taste.
That’s why Ominis isn’t interested in Sebastian’s advances. He doesn’t want to be another notch on someone’s belt, another box ticked on a to-do list.
“Oh.” Sebastian’s voice is a little odd, and Ominis realises Garreth probably hasn’t mentioned that they’re mates. For some reason, guilt pricks at him. Sebastian sounds genuinely hurt. But he recovers quickly and says,
“Well, since we’re both here, can I at least get you a drink that doesn’t taste like warm bollock sweat?”
Ominis lets out a short laugh before he can stop himself, then schools his face back into neutrality.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m heading home soon.”
“Ah. Need an escort? I’m a proper gentleman, you know. I’ll walk you all the way to the door, and I’ll only come in if you invite me.”
Ominis rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the wall.
“Nice to meet you, Sebastian.”
He reaches into his pocket for his folded cane and has just unfolded it when Sebastian says, in a tone that catches Ominis completely off guard,
“Why won’t you go out with me?”
Ominis stops mid-step.
Sebastian’s voice sounds different. It’s hard to hear over the pounding music, but he sounds … vulnerable. Bare. He’s never sounded like that the other times Ominis has turned him down — and there have been many.
He hesitates, wondering how honest he should be.
“I’m not interested,” is all he settles on. He hopes that will be the end of it.
But Sebastian asks again.
“Why?”
For some reason, irritation flares up inside Ominis.
He turns back, straightening instinctively. He knows he’s the same height as Sebastian, maybe even a little taller.
“All right. First of all? You act like an arrogant arse who can’t take no for an answer. I’ve told you I don’t want to, that I’m not interested, and yet you keep going, as if I owe you a yes.” His voice is tight now, edged. “Secondly, I’m busy. I have my studies. Changing schools is hard enough for anyone, but I’m still trying to memorise how many steps there are between the music wing and the cafeteria, and trying not to pitch headfirst down those stupid staircases you haven’t bothered to make detectable for my cane.”
He gives the cane an agitated shake.
“And last but not least, Sebastian Sallow, I don’t want to be the next trophy on your shelf. The one you parade around for a month before you get bored and leave me to gather dust in a corner. That’s why I won’t go out with you. And I would really appreciate it if you stopped trying.”
With that, Ominis turns away again, heart pounding, and starts walking in what he hopes he remembers is the direction of the exit. He half-expects Sebastian to follow him, and tells himself he isn’t disappointed when he doesn’t.
To Ominis’ great surprise, Sebastian does stop trying.
He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It’s exactly what he told him to do, and he’d been very clear about it.
And yet.
He hears Sebastian approaching in the corridor and tenses automatically, bracing himself for a, Lunch together today, Gaunt? Heard they’ve got a deal on mini pizzas! or If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.
But… nothing.
Sebastian walks past him, talking quietly to someone Ominis thinks might be Amit Thakkar, and disappears down the corridor.
Ominis stands by his locker, biting his lip, wondering why he feels disappointed when this is precisely what he asked for.
Later, Professor Weasley asks Sebastian to read the assignment instructions aloud for Ominis. Ominis expects him to pull his chair far too close, lean in, murmur something about how they could be studying something entirely different back at his place — hands-on, preferably.
Sebastian does none of that.
He sits at a perfectly normal distance, reads the instructions in a flat, neutral voice, and returns to his seat when he’s finished.
Ominis is left sitting there, hands resting on his Braille desk, with a feeling in his stomach he can’t quite identify.
“I don’t really get it,” Garreth says a few weeks later, when Ominis finally can’t keep it in anymore and spills everything. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Ominis throws his hands up in frustration. “Yes! I think so. That’s the problem. I don’t know why I’m disappointed.”
Garreth hums thoughtfully, fiddling with the tap just to give his hands something to do. Ominis is glad he discovered the broken bathroom at the back of the music building. No one ever seems to come in here anymore. It gives him space to pace and vent freely.
“I thought he was such a bastard, arrogant and annoying, when he kept at it, and I told him to stop. And now I think he’s arrogant and annoying because he has stopped! I want him to stop asking me out, and yet I miss his constant advances! How does that make any sense?”
“I don’t know,” Garreth says carefully, “but if that’s how you feel, maybe you should talk to him. He hasn’t spoken to me since he found out we’re friends.”
“That was actually pretty stupid of you,” Ominis admits. “Not telling him.”
Garreth lets out a frustrated sound. “I know. I just didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of whatever… this is. And then I did anyway.”
In the end, their conversation boils down to a single conclusion:
Ominis needs to talk to Sebastian.
Ominis waits outside the men’s changing rooms after lacrosse practice. He can’t miss the irony that it’s now him lingering at borderline-stalker levels just to catch the other one alone.
He hears the door open and the team start to spill out. Cooper boasting about a goal he scored. Amit humming politely, clearly uninterested. Garreth, who murmurs a quiet, “Good luck.” And then—
“What are you doing here?”
Sebastian sounds surprised. A little tired. Ominis, who’d been half-afraid Sebastian would walk straight past him, is so relieved he realises he hasn’t actually planned what to say. Sebastian smells good. Shampoo and deodorant, and the lingering warmth of a recent shower seems to radiate off him.
“Can we… talk?” Ominis asks.
There’s a note of caution in Sebastian’s reply. “About what?”
Ominis twists his cane in his hand.
“I… I was wondering if you might want to do something this weekend?”
Sebastian is silent for so long Ominis wonders if he’s walked away. Then:
“Are you taking the piss?”
Ominis winces. Fuck. This is not going well.
“I just meant —” he starts, but Sebastian cuts in.
“You told me to leave you alone, so I did. And now you turn up and suddenly it’s fine for you to ask me out? What the hell do you actually want?”
Ominis opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He has no idea what to say.
Sebastian lowers his voice, sounds tired again when he speaks.
“You accuse me of being pushy and arrogant. Which, fine, I’ll own that — I can be. But at least I’m honest about what I feel and what I want. Unlike you, pulling this double act about what you actually think. You’re not interested in being another notch on my belt — which, for the record, you wouldn’t have been — but fine, let’s say that’s true. I’m not interested in being dragged along by your indecision either.”
With that, Sebastian turns and walks away. Ominis is left standing there, a growing oh, fuck settling in his stomach.
“I don’t get it. I don’t get it! What does he actually want?”
Ominis is going to wear a groove into the bathroom floor with how much he’s pacing.
“And he calls himself honest? He sleeps with half the school the moment he gets the chance!”
He’s so worked up he gestures wildly and smacks his hand against the sink. He rubs it, hissing under his breath.
“I mean,” Garreth says carefully, in a tone that suggests he’s about to say something Ominis won’t like, “I don’t really know what impression you’ve got of Sebastian, but he’s not as confident and arrogant as I think you think he is.”
Ominis turns on him, incredulous. “He’s asked me out practically every day for almost four months, and the moment I ask him back, he’s not interested anymore? What’s the worst that could happen?”
Garreth clears his throat. “Well,” he says, “things didn’t end well with his last ex, so I get why he’s a bit wary of being messed around again. He might seem laid-back and unserious, but in a relationship he’s ridiculously loyal. Borderline devoted.”
Ominis snorts. “Which one of his many relationships would that be?”
“Ominis.” Garreth’s voice is firm now, the way it gets when he’s talking to a stubborn child. Ominis crosses his arms petulantly. “You do know Sebastian’s only had one proper relationship the entire time he’s been at uni, right? And as far as I know, he’s hooked up with, like, one girl and two guys in his entire life. He might act the part, but he’s not the lofty player you think he is.”
Ominis stops pacing. Frustration bubbles hot in his chest.
Why can’t Sebastian just be as one-dimensional and predictable as Ominis wants him to be?
One of the advantages of having a father who knows the headmaster is that Ominis gets certain… privileges. Like being allowed to sit in the music room late in the evening, hammering away at the piano long after the building is technically meant to be locked.
He isn’t quite sure how he’s going to get home afterwards. The buses have long since stopped running, and while he could probably manage with Google Maps, walking home alone, blind, in the dark doesn’t feel particularly safe. He’ll have to ring Marvolo and ask — though it’ll cost him his pride, and most likely his free time next week when Marvolo inevitably demands a favour in return.
He plays a melody he’s known since childhood, not thinking at all, just letting his fingers move on instinct. His teachers always say his emotions bleed straight into his playing: when he’s happy, he plays with control and precision, fingers curved just right, wrists at the proper angle. When he’s sad, he grows sloppy, slow, his technique faltering.
When he’s angry, upset, his fingers fly. There’s no technique to it, no thought given to whether he’s using the correct finger on the correct key, but neither is there the slack posture of his sad playing. He hammers at the keys furiously, hoping his frustration and disappointment and confusion can bleed out through his hands and become the piano’s problem instead.
When the door slams shut behind him, he jumps. His heart leaps into his throat and his fingers freeze on a menacing, dissonant chord.
“Who’s there?” he asks sharply, already wondering how quickly he could get his phone out and ring the police if he had to.
He doesn’t have to.
“It’s me.”
Ominis can’t hide his surprise when he turns.
“What are you doing here?”
Sebastian comes closer, but doesn’t sit down. He stays a few metres away as he says,
“I was heading home when I saw the lights on in the building. I remembered you saying something along the lines of your father being friends with the headmaster, and that you’d get me expelled if I asked you out again.”
“Ah.” Ominis flushes at the memory. “That was when you invited me to that Halloween party, wasn’t it?”
“Close. I think it was Amit’s birthday. But he is an October baby, so easy mistake.”
Ominis nods slowly. He doesn’t really know what to do now. Or why Sebastian is here.
“That explains the how, not the why,” he says.
Sebastian lets out a soft snort.
“Yeah. I figured it was you in here, and I realised I’m tired of our conversations ending with one of us making a dramatic speech and storming off without actually resolving anything.”
Ominis nods again. He has no idea what to say. The whole thing feels unreal, like his brain refuses to engage properly.
“And now?” he asks eventually, unsure where Sebastian is going with this.
Sebastian sighs, stepping closer.
“Move over.”
Ominis shifts aside automatically. Sebastian sits down beside him on the piano bench, his thigh pressing against Ominis’. Ominis becomes painfully aware of the closeness.
“I’ve never understood the piano,” Sebastian says, poking at the keys, pressing middle C a few times. “Solomon wanted me to learn an instrument. Probably hoping it’d have a calming influence on my rebellious tendencies.”
His tone stays light as he moves on to plonk out a D, but Ominis catches the faint edge of bitterness beneath it.
“Is Solomon your dad?” he asks, discreetly reaching for his bag and the packet of gum inside. Sebastian smells good, more cologne than shampoo now, and Ominis is acutely aware that he’s been at uni since eight in the morning and probably smells like sweat and nerves.
“No.” Sebastian taps between C, D, and A now. “My uncle. We live with him. My parents are dead.”
Ominis goes still. He hadn’t known that. And—
“We?” he asks.
“Me and my twin sister.” Sebastian still sounds distant as he carefully starts playing what Ominis recognises as an A chord.
Ominis wets his lips. “I didn’t know you had a sister. Does she study here too?”
“No. She’s in hospital. Undiagnosed illness. She was in school until she was fourteen, then she was admitted full-time. I visit her whenever I can.” He exhales. “That’s why I was passing by campus so late. Visiting hours usually end at half nine. Can you show me how to play Für Elise?”
Ominis struggles to keep up with the rapid influx of information. It’s emotional whiplash. He had no idea Sebastian’s parents were dead. Or that he had a sick twin sister.
“Is she… not going to get better?” he asks instead. Maybe a stupid question, but it’s the only one he can form.
Sebastian stops playing. He sighs.
“I don’t know. Things have been more or less the same for nearly six years now. She’s not getting worse, but she’s not getting better either.” He exhales softly. “Can you show me Für Elise? Or, like… Jingle Bells?”
Ominis answers on autopilot, even though his mind is miles away.
“I think Jingle Bells is more your level. Here — put one finger here…”
He reaches out, finds Sebastian’s hands, and places his fingers on the keys. Sebastian’s hands are warm and soft. Ominis realises it’s the first time they’ve actually touched properly.
“And then you press here…”
It takes a while. Ominis has to correct Sebastian’s fingers and rhythm several times, but eventually Sebastian manages to stumble his way through a choppy version of Jingle Bells.
“That’s really good!” Ominis blurts out after a moment, unable to stop himself from smiling.
Sebastian stops playing and lets out a laugh.
“Don’t lie to me. I sound like a cat falling onto a piano. But thanks for believing in me.”
There’s a brief silence, and Ominis wonders if this is where they’re supposed to talk about It, when Sebastian says,
“I brought some biscuits and fizzy drinks that I smuggled in for Anne, but she couldn’t manage them all. Want some?”
Ominis sees no reason to refuse.
They move away from the piano and sit at the teacher’s desk instead. Ominis makes a mental note to ask Sebastian to wipe up the crumbs properly afterwards.
They drink straight from the cans and nibble on small, sweet biscuits Sebastian calls “cauldron cakes”. They’re an odd shape, apparently meant to look like little cauldrons, and taste pleasantly sugary.
“Anne loves them,” Sebastian explains around a mouthful. “She used to demolish a whole bag when we were kids.”
Ominis chuckles. “That reminds me of my brother. He loved liquorice, but no one believed him. What kid actually likes liquorice? Once he ate an entire bag of Father’s sweet liquorice and no one could figure out where it’d gone. When Marvolo finally admitted it, nobody believed he’d actually eaten them. They thought he’d thrown them away. He was grounded for a week.”
Sebastian snorts. “Grounded over sweets?”
Ominis smiles faintly. “My family’s a bit… extreme. Which is why I moved out as soon as I could.”
Sebastian hums. “Understandable. And relatable. Are you and your brother close?”
Ominis shakes his head, tucking his legs up beneath him on the chair. He reaches for another cauldron cake. Sebastian places one into his hand.
“No. Not at all. Honestly, if we’d been given the option not to be brothers, I think we’d have taken it.”
Sebastian sounds genuinely sympathetic. “That’s rough. I can’t imagine my life without my sister.”
Ominis shrugs. “Don’t feel sorry for me. My whole family’s fairly unhinged, to be honest. Traditional. Conservative. Ableist. Racist. Pretty much every prejudice going.”
Sebastian laughs quietly. “I’m white and cis, but I’m not straight and I’m definitely not conservative. They’d hate me.”
Ominis smiles a little. “They’ve hated every partner I’ve ever brought home, so that doesn’t surprise me.”
He freezes. That wasn’t meant to slip out.
Sebastian is infuriatingly perceptive.
“What do you mean?” he asks. “Have they chased off previous partners?”
Ominis answers evasively. “I don’t usually bring people home. But yes, my parents’… attitudes don’t exactly encourage dating. Or encourage my partner to stay.” He doesn’t mention that they’ve said the only time they’ll welcome a partner into their home is if it’s a girl who intends to take Ominis far away, so he’ll no longer be the family’s problem.
Sebastian says, “Anne would have loved you.”
The words catch Ominis completely off guard. He flounders for several seconds before managing,
“Why do you think that?”
Sebastian hums thoughtfully. “I just get the feeling. You’re her kind of person. Calm. Thoughtful. Intelligent. Kind. Musical. Grounded. I think you’d have got on really well.”
And what about you? Ominis thinks. Am I your kind of person?
He doesn’t say it. Instead, he says,
“Are you trying to set me up with your sister?”
Sebastian laughs. “No. I’m still far too selfish and arrogant for that.”
The words make Ominis choke on his fizzy drink. He coughs, and Sebastian thumps him gently on the back before Ominis manages to get out,
“Do you mean… that you…?”
“Am still interested in a date? Yes, obviously.” Sebastian’s casual tone sounds a bit forced. “But your speech gave me a lot to think about, and I realised it wasn’t fair of me to keep pushing you. I know you think I just wanted to get you into bed, but I genuinely wanted to get to know you. Spend time with you. You could teach me to play Jingle Bells properly, for example.”
He drains the last of his can and sets it down on the desk with a clatter.
“What do you say? Friends?”
Ominis hesitates, emotions surging chaotically inside him.
He thinks about how he’s felt this past week, when Sebastian stopped asking him out. Thinks about what Garreth said, that Sebastian isn’t as carefree and unserious as he seems.
“I don’t think I want to just be friends.”
Sebastian sucks in a breath. Ominis feels the weight of the silence between them as Sebastian processes the words.
“What do you mean?”
Ominis shrugs helplessly. “Exactly what it sounds like. I don’t want to only be friends. I’m sorry I… judged you so harshly from the start. I was defensive. I honestly thought you were just a player who wanted to see how quickly you could make me fall.”
Sebastian makes an embarrassed noise.
“At first, maybe it was a bit like that,” he admits. “I like flirting. I like meeting new people. But after I met you, I stopped being interested in anyone else. I don’t flirt just to lead people on and dump them. I actually want to know the people I go after.”
Ominis hesitates. “And you want to get to know me?”
“Of course. You’re interesting. Mysterious. Clever. Funny. Sarcastic. Incredibly sexy when you play the piano.” Ominis feels his cheeks heat. “At first I probably liked the challenge. You were the first person who ever said no to me, but then… I realised I liked more than just how you look. The way you mutter savage comments to Garreth about Professor Sharp’s terrible instructions. The way you gave your sandwich to Poppy after she gave her tuna salad to that stray cat she found on the way to the lecture. The way you listen to Amit rant about stars even when you’re clearly not interested yourself.”
Ominis bites his lip. He had no idea Sebastian had been paying that much attention.
“I’m sorry I called you arrogant,” he says, and Sebastian laughs.
“It’s fine. I probably needed to hear it.” He pauses. “And I’m sorry I accused you of playing games.”
Ominis laughs softly too. “It’s okay.”
Grand pianos, it turns out, are surprisingly sturdy. Especially when you want to make out on them.
Sebastian pushes him back against the keys, which clatter in dissonant protest. Ominis had worried about damaging a perfectly fine piano, but the only thing he cares about now is Sebastian’s mouth on his. His lips are warm, slightly crumbly from the biscuits, and his tongue tastes of fizzy drink as it sweeps across Ominis’ lips, asking for permission. Ominis opens eagerly, feels Sebastian’s hand on his arse as he helps him further up onto the piano.
“Careful,” Ominis pants as the instrument creaks unhappily.
Sebastian makes an irritated sound. “Don’t tell me to be careful,” he growls, and a shiver races down Ominis’ spine.
Sebastian’s hands are eager as they explore Ominis’ torso, pushing his shirt up, tugging his tie loose with nimble fingers. The knot loosens completely, fabric slipping free as Sebastian lets it fall somewhere forgotten, his attention already back where it belongs.
Ominis’ breath stutters when Sebastian’s mouth leaves his lips, only to trail along his jaw instead. Unhurried now, deliberate. A kiss pressed just below his ear makes his shoulders tense, another along the line of his throat has him tilting his head back without meaning to, offering more. Sebastian takes the invitation with a satisfied hum.
“I can’t decide,” Sebastian murmurs, and his hot breath against the sensitive skin on Omminis’ neck makes Ominis shiver, “if these months of waiting makes me want to rip the clothes off of you and take you right here, or if I want to savour the moment and unwrap you slowly, like an anticipated Christmas gift.”
The words force Ominis’ eyes shut, and he feels a familiar heat pool in his belly. He mentally berates himself for waiting so long before giving in, thinking about how he could have had Sebastian’s soft lips on his already back in September, had he not been so stubborn.
Sebastian toys with the buckle of Ominis’ belt — but no more than that — and Ominis is just about to give him permission when his phone rings.
“Fuck!”
Ominis jumps, fumbling for his phone. It’s harder than it should be — Sebastian keeps leaning in for soft, lingering kisses even as Ominis laughs, turns his head away, and tries to get the phone to his ear. The text-to-speech kicks in:
“Incoming call: Marvolo.”
“Shit, it’s my brother.” The emotional whiplash is real, going from Sebastian’s warm mouth against his to his brother’s cold voice asking where he is.
“I’m at uni, practising,” Ominis says, biting his lip, wondering if he’s going to have to ask Marvolo for a lift home after all.
Sebastian murmurs against his ear, “I can drive you home, if you want.”
Ominis tells Marvolo that a coursemate is giving him a lift back to his flat. Marvolo sounds genuinely disappointed when he realises he won’t get to cash in a favour from Ominis after all. Ominis doesn’t care. He hangs up quickly and reaches for Sebastian again.
“Oh no.”
Garreth’s sense of resignation is unmistakable when Ominis and Sebastian arrive at uni together the next day, stepping out of Sebastian’s car.
“Morning, Weasley,” Sebastian greets cheerfully, slinging an arm around Ominis’ shoulders.
Ominis can feel Garreth’s suspicious stare boring into them.
“You were wearing that shirt yesterday, Sebastian,” Garreth says accusingly. “And don’t even try to pretend you’re not limping, Ominis.”
Ominis’ cheeks go bright red, but Sebastian just laughs and pulls him closer.
“Jealous, Weasley?” he teases.
Garreth sighs and mutters something about how at least he didn’t need an average of fifty attempts before landing a first date with his first girlfriend.
“No, but the payoff’s much better when you’ve had to work for what you want,” Sebastian says, kissing Ominis on the cheek.
Ominis hears the irritated whispers of disappointed girls as Sebastian keeps hold of his hand on the way to Ominis’ locker to grab a few books, and he straightens a little, pride and satisfaction swelling inside him.
Sebastian is clingy, wrapping his arms around him from behind while Ominis rummages through his locker for his Braille music theory folder.
“You know,” Sebastian says, kissing the back of his neck until it tickles and Ominis nearly drops his papers, “I heard there’s a new restaurant in town. Brilliant Thai food.”
Ominis closes his locker and turns with a teasing smile.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Sallow?” he asks.
Sebastian crowds him gently back against the locker, one arm wrapped possessively around his waist, the other braced against the metal, leaving Ominis pleasantly trapped between him and the locker.
“Well?” Sebastian asks, pressing a kiss to Ominis’ chin. “Is that a yes this time?”
Ominis smiles and finds Sebastian’s mouth with his own.
“That sounds lovely.”