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He can’t stop. Even when he crosses his legs. That foot will not stop shaking. A nervous tick, maybe? Clearing his throat, Sebastian leaned back in his chair before taking a long, thoughtful draw from the cup of coffee in his hand.
It was just another interview. Nothing new. But his phone burned in his back pocket, blowing up with hundreds of missed calls and texts. He knew he was wrong for not responding. But how could he when he still hadn’t come to terms with why Margarita was pestering him? How could he, when he still so feverishly denied it could even happen?
Chatter broke the silence. The interviewer, a younger, French woman, floods into the room with various people trickling in behind her. From her voice, and the little bits of French Sebastian was able to pick up, she was already animated, energized, excited to be a part of the press tour and excited to have been assigned to this particular pair for the new Marvel spectacle.
Why couldn’t he have just been with Mackie again?
Sebastian slid out of his chair with a deep breath, braving a brilliant smile and indulging in the French formalities of giving the interviewer a friendly kiss on the cheek as hello. But it’s who was behind her that made that smile hurt, that made it beam even brighter, more genuine.
You.
“Hi,” Seb gave a small chuckle, leaning to press a chaste kiss to your cheek as well. As the formality. Obviously.
Your cheeks colored in the slightest as you returned it, tired, but not tired enough to not enjoy Paris. And Sebastian. “Hi.”
Sebastian’s foot started again as soon as it left the ground when you took your seats beside each other. But it’s not the first interview his nerves had shown. And it certainly wasn’t the last. You’d noticed. Asked about it a few times. But he always played it off, saying he never really gets used to being in the spotlight like this, even if it is always super fun. Of course you’d believed him, why would you have any reason not to?
The cameras were rolling within seconds of sitting down. With a big smile, the interviewer leaned forward, a hand full of cards, looking between the two. “So, may I say, Sebastian and [Y/N], welcome to Paris.”
“Thank you, it’s lovely to be here,” You said, and then there was a glance thrown to your right.
Sebastian caught it.
The foot shook a little more.
“Yeah, yeah,” Seb ran a hand through his hair, smiling, trying his best to ignore the thud of his heart in his chest. “Thanks. It’s always great to have the chance to come back here.”
The interviewer leaned back before addressing the first card. “So, in this new film, you two play a complex relationship, yes? Would you like to explain?”
Now it was Seb’s turn to sneak a glance towards you before taking the initiative to answer. “Well, Buck’s been through a helluva lot, as we all know, then this girl comes along,” He paused, glancing towards you. “Her name is Tesla, and weeeeell… The Winter Soldier did a number on her when she was growing up.”
At this point, unknowingly, Seb had rested his elbow on your armrest, getting closer.
“Obviously we can’t tell you more than that,” You laughed, nudging his arm, not to push him off, but playfully.
Seb’s heart pounded harder in his ears, and with another grin, he murmured, “Right. Top secret stuff, as always.”
The interviewer almost groaned, frustrated with the famous Marvel secrecy. “I suppose that is fair. How about the two of you? I have heard many people have said you two worked very well together on set.”
There was a brief moment of silence, a flicker of tension, then you spoke up. “Actually, this guy.. God, he’s just the worst, isn’t he?” A smirk tugged at your lips, side-eying him. “I don’t think there was a single day he didn’t bring me a coffee to make me feel more welcome on set. Despicable.”
Sebastian burst into laughter, copying that famous left boob grab from that meatball friend of his, before he settled, deciding to play along. “Oh yeah, and this one over here isn’t a walk in the park either. Had the nerve to try and pay me back for it.”
The two of you laughed, catching eyes, laughing more. Sebastian’s foot stopped shaking.
With a laugh of her own, the interviewer pressed, “You are very close, then?”
Sebastian looked, for the first time, at how close he was leaning towards you. How his arm was just barely brushing yours. Then his eyes moved to lock with yours again. He didn’t notice when you swallowed, hard, nerves suddenly building in your throat at the sight of that sparkle in those blues.
He smiled, and that smile was just for you this time. “Yeah, she’s all right.”
“He’s not too bad himself, I guess.”
“You guess?” Seb’s hand, the one that wasn’t so dangerously close to you, pressed over his heart, and he feigned pain. “I’m hurt, [Y/N].
The interviewer, at this point, had completely let go of the questions she had prepared, eager to simply watch what was going on in front of her.
You shifted in your seat, turning to face Sebastian more head on. Trying to mask the grin that threatened to break you, your hand brushed his as you replied, “Oh, I wasn’t aware you had a heart, dear.”
How easy it would be to spill that heart right now, close that gap, for his lips to find yours…
But Sebastian stopped himself. And his foot resumed.
He turned back to the interviewer, shaking his head, that grin returning. “So nice.”
That was the way they always went. Nerves. A break from the nerves when you two delved into that flirty game you constantly liked to play. More nerves by the time the interview was finished. And Sebastian knew what it meant. And so did his girlfriend.
After this particular interview, as usual, Sebastian escaped to his dressing room, too afraid to mention anything to you about the turmoil burning up inside of him. Even though he was sure you knew by now. Even if he was almost completely positive that it wasn’t just one sided. The tension was there. He knew it, he was sure you did, and he was sure everyone else felt it, too. But how could he be catching feelings for you when he was in a serious relationship with Margarita, who he loved deeply and had for a long time?
A knock on the door broke him from his swirling thoughts, and it was only then he realized his thumb was still hovering over the call button. Margarita would have to wait. Again.
“Come in,” Seb mumbled, tossing the cell phone aside and collapsing into the loveseat in the middle of the room. He expected Mackie or Chris to come through the door, as they had made habit of, to hound him about calling Margarita, to be fair and let her know what was going on in that stupid head of his.
“Hey,” You said quietly after opening the door and leaning in the frame. “I think we need to talk.”
Seb swallowed hard and quickly sat up straighter, fidgeting with his tie, licking his lips. Heart resuming its erratic thud.
“Hey,” He chuckled, crossing his legs. His foot shook. “What, here for more insults?”
You scoffed under your breath, a smile lightly tugging at your mouth. “No, actually. Not this time. Can I sit?” Your eyebrows raised as you gestured towards the spot beside him.
His own eyebrows furrowed as the humor drained from his face, sensing a seriousness behind this conversation. “Yeah, yeah, of course. What’s going on?”
With a heavy sigh, you placed yourself beside him, but this time, you carefully made sure it wasn’t too close. Not yet.
“Well, I was hoping you could tell me that.”
Seb’s cheeks flushed, caught in a lie he wasn’t ready to reveal. “What do you mean?”
His foot shook a little more.
The way he was looking at you, that sparkle, that flame, it warmed every inch of you, and the inevitable explosion was near. You knew you had to either jump in head first or run for cover and never look back.
“I’m not even going to start it with forgive me if I’m wrong, because I know I’m not.” You took a deep breath and leaned against the back of the loveseat, darting your gaze from him for a moment before daring to look back. “You have a girlfriend, and what we’ve…”
Seb stopped breathing for a second. He uncrossed his legs, pressed his palms into his pants, desperate to wipe off the sweat. Caught. “Uh, yeah, we’ve… I suppose I’ve been flirting a bit. In the interviews and stuff. Uh, s’just how I deal with nerves. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, almost groaning in frustration, and pinched the bridge of your nose before dropping your hand to your lap again. “No, no, Seb, you and I both know that’s not it.” Your eyes met his again, and you could hear the timer clicking its way to the final seconds. Headfirst. “I think it’s pretty clear I don’t just see you as a co-star. Or a friend.”
There it was. The last fizzle before the bomb explodes.
Sebastian exhaled, hard, at first, relief flooding out from a broken dam, then guilt, then compassion. Then drive. “I know. Me either.”
Five. “But Margarita.”
A pang in his chest, but a fleeting one. Nothing that can match the drive. “I know.”
Four.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Not exactly…?”
Three.
“But she knows.”
“Yeah.”
Two.
A hard swallow. “So what do we do?”
Sebastian didn’t have any words.
One.
Explosion. His lips crashed to yours, a hand reaching to cradle the curve of your jaw, closing the gap, closing a door and opening another. There was a quick, sharp inhale on your part, but then your palms were pressed to his chest, feeling that heart in his chest, feeling for the first time everything you dreamed so long of feeling. Your lips moved with his, eyes fluttering closed, kissing him with the passion of months in waiting. And he wasn’t holding back either. He couldn't. Not anymore. Not when this felt too good. Too right.
But when the kiss finally ended, when he, surprisingly, was the first to pull back for air, your mind swirled with thoughts of if headfirst was the right idea.
Yet, for the first time, Sebastian’s head was clear. And his foot didn’t shake.
“Now, I make a phone call I’ve been putting off too long.”