Archive of Our Own

WINTER
December 2005

After that night, Sebastian keeps thinking of Henry.
It's honestly embarrassing just how much he does. It almost makes him feel a little bit like a creep, already getting so attached after having met him only once.
Every night he's at the club, Sebastian keeps his eyes trained on the entrance, hoping to see Henry step through it. But he never does. He never calls, either.
Sebastian has no way of contacting him, only has his address, but if Henry didn't find him weird and off-putting already the last time, he most certainly would if Sebastian were to just show up at his front door unannounced.
Perhaps he pushed to hard, was too straight-forward in saying he wanted to see Henry again. Or in carrying him home. Or insisting on accompanying him on his way. Or even talking to him at all.
Perhaps everything he did that night was a huge mistake; Henry had looked like he just wanted to be left alone but Sebastian couldn't help himself, mesmerised by this strange man he had never seen before looking so out of place in his club.

If Henry chooses never to contact him again, Sebastian understands. He can hardly blame him. But even so, he can't find it in himself to regret walking up to Henry and striking up a conversation. If he's intrigued by something, he has to find out more about it, he's always been this way. And Henry had been no different.
Sebastian really does want to see him again, learn more about him. It's not out of some perceived moral obligation to help the man or anything like that, he's just curious and maybe—shamefully so—a tiny bit enamoured by Henry's shaggy looks. The two of them could hardly be more different; they seem to be polar opposites, but as the saying goes: opposites attract.
Sebastian feels like he might be losing his mind. He almost feels like a teen again, always thinking about that one pretty girl he saw on the school hallway once and immediately developed a crush on. Only that now he's a grown man in his thirties with his own club and should probably be better than that.
It's genuinely mortifying, only made worse by the fact that everyone around him can tell something's distracting him. He keeps staring off into the distance and smiling to himself like some love-sick fool. He barely even knows Henry for chrissake. Sebastian didn't ask Henry his age but he guesses he must be around ten years or so younger than him, which only makes Sebastian feel even more weird and creepy about this whole thing.

As one week of waiting turns into two, Seb begins to lose hope. It's probably for the best if Henry never calls him. He'll get over it and Henry's definitely better off without him.
Sebastian sighs, head in his hands. He's sitting at the bar, stewing in his self-deprecating thoughts. The club won't open for another three hours but he couldn't stand being at home any longer, too restless. So he came in earlier than usual to wait here instead. Not like it makes much of a difference.
He groans and lets his face slide down his hands, his forehead hitting the counter with a loud thwok.
"Ow," he whines but doesn't make any attempt to move. He stays like that, listening to the blood rush in his ears.
He's just about to space out again when the ringing of his cell phone startles him out of his daze.
He blindly fishes it out of his pocket and accepts the call without looking at the display.
"Wilder," he says, holding the phone to his ear. It comes out a little muffled with his face still pressed against the wood, but he doesn't really care much.

There's silence on the other side of the line and Sebastian is ready to hang up again, thinking someone must have dialled the wrong number, when the person on the other end finally speaks.
"Hey," is all they say, but Sebastian—much to his embarrassment—immediately recognises the voice. His heart lurches in his chest and he shoots up straight in his seat, eyes wide. He very nearly falls over backwards in the process, only narrowly avoiding braining himself on the polished floor.
"Henry…?" Sebastian asks, apprehensive.
Henry hums and Sebastian hides a smile behind the palm of his hand, even though he knows nobody can see him.
He holds onto the edge of the counter for balance and swallows. Sebastian had more or less made peace with never talking to Henry again, so now that he's actually called him, he doesn't quite know what to say or do.
Luckily for him, he doesn't have to figure it out, because it's Henry who speaks up next.
"Look, I'm sorry for taking so long to call. I actually didn't have a phone and it took a while for me to get around to getting one. I've been…kind of sick. So that's why I'm only calling now." Henry sounds apologetic as he explains, but Seb immediately latches onto that last bit about him being sick.

"Hey, that's fine. Don't worry. I wouldn't have blamed you had you never called." Seb lets out a nervous chuckle. "But are you okay? You feeling better now?"
He waits with bated breath for Henry to reply.
"Yeah, I'm good," he says and Sebastian can feel himself relax a little.
"That's great, I'm glad."
They lapse into silence. Sebastian's a little worried Henry will hang up on him, deciding this was a bad idea after all, so he tries to come up with something else to say.
He remembers a billboard he saw on the way here, something about a new exhibition that opened just last month at a nearby museum. That might work.
"I was wondering," he starts, picking at a dent in the wood. He'll have to get that buffed out soon. "I saw they recently opened a new exhibition down at the Hammer Museum. Something about Japanese woodblock prints I believe. I don't know if that's really your kind of thing but…would you want to go check it out? Together?"
Sebastian braces himself to be rejected, for Henry to tell him that he doesn't actually want to see him again and he only called to tell him as much.
But then Henry says "okay," and Seb's smiling to himself again.

"Cool," he says, trying to sound as nonchalant as he can, but his excitement is palpable. "I'm off on Thursday, would that work for you? We can meet there or I could pick you up and we can go together."
Henry seems to think for a moment. "Sure, that works. Let's meet there, 4 pm?" he suggests.
"Okay. Great. I'll be there," Seb says. He spins around on the bar stool and leans back against the counter, staring up at the ceiling. He spots some tiny cracks he needs to have patched.
"Okay. See you then," Henry says. "Goodbye."
Before Sebastian can reply, Henry hangs up.
He lets his hand drop into his lap, still clutching onto the phone. Seconds later he jumps up, pumping his fist like he just won the lottery. "Yes! Hell yeah!"
He feels he's getting ahead of himself, but he's so excited that he gets to see Henry again. And relieved too, that Henry seemingly doesn't think of him as a creep. He probably wouldn't have bothered calling if he did.
Perhaps this shouldn't make Sebastian as happy as it does, but he can't help it.
Needing an outlet for his nervous energy, Seb sprints up onto the stage and sits down at the piano.
It's a good day for some improvisation.

—✧—

Thursday rolls around much faster than Sebastian anticipated. He's been busy all week, only really going home to sleep. Henry and him have been exchanging SMS since he first called. They're just short little messages, things like Seb asking how Henry's doing and the like. Henry doesn't seem to be much of a texter, but Seb's happy that they're talking at all, even if it isn't much.
Sebastian's spent all morning agonising over what to wear like they're going on a date and he has to keep reminding himself they're just meeting up as friends. If one can even call them that.
In the end he settles on a burgundy turtle neck and some dark grey slacks. Nothing too formal but still appropriate for a museum. Even though it's December now they're still in LA, so the days aren't too cold. Sebastian opts to take a light coat with him—just in case he needs it—and leaves very early, hoping he won't run into too much traffic that way.
Unfortunately the roads are congested as they always are, but he still manages to make it to the museum twenty minutes before the two of them are set to meet up.
Grey clouds hang low in the sky and it's started to rain, so he puts on his coat as he walks the few blocks from his parking spot to the museum and takes shelter underneath a canopy a few buildings down from it.
Sebastian doesn't have to wait long before he spots Henry crossing the road. He looks much like he did the first time they met, though it's still a novel sight. After all, this is Sebastian's first time seeing him in the light of day.
Henry looks tired, dark circles sitting like bruises beneath his eyes and he moves slowly, almost like he's in pain.
Sebastian thinks it might not have been such a good idea to suggest an activity that involves a lot of walking around, but Henry must surely know his limits.
Then Sebastian thinks back to that night, how Henry walked all the way from his apartment with seemingly no regard for his physical well-being, and he begins to suspect that maybe Henry knows them but doesn't really care.

Sebastian steps out from underneath the canopy and walks over to the museum's entrance, making it there just as Henry does. They come to a stop in front of one another.
"Hey," Henry says, lifting a hand in greeting. He's positively soaked, wet hair plastered to his forehead and Sebastian immediately worries he'll get sick again. He can't keep his eyes from tracking a drop of water as it runs over Henry's jaw and neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt. He gulps, suddenly feeling rather parched.
"Hey," Sebastian replies with what he hopes is a friendly smile. He sounds a little hoarse, so he clears his throat. "You must be cold, let's get you inside," he suggests, pointing over his shoulder towards the entrance.
Henry looks him up and down with a blank expression on his face, then nods.
The line isn't long and admission is free, so they make it inside and out of the rain rather quickly.
They hand their coats over at the cloakroom, Henry using his to haphazardly towel off his hair before he does.

"Thank you for coming, it's really nice to see you again," Sebastian says as they make their way into the exhibition.
Henry shrugs. "You did say you wanted to." Sebastian grimaces, reminded of his somewhat grand declaration that night.
"Yeah. That was perhaps a little too direct, considering we had only just met, huh." Sebastian shoots him an apologetic smile.
Henry shakes his head. "It's okay. I'm here, aren't I?"
Sebastian looks down at his feet, considering his next words. "Have you been sleeping well? You look rather tired," he remarks and immediately wants to slap himself across the face when Henry visibly bristles.
"Why do you care?" he asks, brow furrowed. He had asked that when Seb carried him home, too.
"I'm sorry. You said you were sick and I thought…sorry," Sebastian apologises. They've been here for all of five minutes and he's already ruining things.
Henry sighs, running his hand through his tousled hair, trying to smooth it back down. "No, I'm the one who should apologise. I'm…not used to people anymore. It's nice of you to care, but I'm okay."
Henry gives him a tired smile. Sebastian doesn't quite believe him when he says he's fine, but lets it go for now. After all he's not entitled to Henry telling him anything at all.

They walk through the rooms of the main exhibition in relative silence, Sebastian stopping when Henry does to look at a particular piece that catches his interest. If Henry had any doubts about this before, Sebastian's sure to have scared him off after this. He's caught in his own head, hardly even looking at the art on display. He isn't usually so insecure, or hasn't been in recent times, at least. What's changed now? Is it because he wants to make a good impression? Seb's already messed that up, for sure. His thoughts keep going in circles, making him increasingly anxious.
Henry seems to notice because he taps him on the shoulder.
Seb startles a little. "We didn't have to come here just for me, you know. If you'd rather leave we can do that," Henry offers.
Seb shakes his head rather intently. He doesn't want Henry to head home yet, not when he's finally here in front of him again. "It's fine, sorry. I was just thinking. I do want to be here, I promise," Sebastian assures him.

He tries to come up with something to save the day, but he comes up short.
Sebastian sighs. Henry seems pretty honest for the most part, so he figures this probably won't work out at all if he isn't going to be honest too. He's good at being honest when talking about others and complimenting them, but not so much when it comes to himself and his own feelings. Maybe this is a chance for him to change that.
He takes a deep breath, then speaks again. "Listen, I'm really sorry if I've been coming on too strong or if I'm creeping you out or anything. I promise my intention here is just to spend time with you and get to know you better. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to and I'm sorry if I pushed too much. I was just—I don't know—worried? If you want me to just shut up, I will. I won't ask any more questions, even if I might want to. I can't explain why, but you intrigue me. That night you came to my club, I felt somehow…drawn to you. And I know this probably just makes me sound even weirder and I'm talking way too much, so if you want to leave and never see me again, that's fine, I completely understand. Really, I wouldn't blame you at all. But if you're up for it, I'd love to stay and look around some more. And maybe try to make a better impression on you, too. If you'd give me that chance."

Seb has to catch his breath when he finishes, having rattled all that off much too quickly. He feels his cheeks heating up a bit in embarrassment. Henry simply stares at him for a moment, then snorts.
"Wow, calm down there, Jazz Man. You're overthinking this. It's not like you made a bad impression on me. If you had put me off as much as you seem to think, I would never have called you. Besides, shouldn't it be the other way around?" Henry picks at his cuticles looking off to a spot somewhere behind Seb.
Now it's Sebastian's turn to stare, slightly bewildered. There's a lot to process here. Jazz Man?
"What do you mean, the other way around?" he dares to ask.
"I mean, if anyone here is off-putting, it's probably me," Henry mutters. A pained expression flashes across his face, but it's gone just as soon as it appeared.
Henry elaborates. "You saw me at a really low point that night. Did you know I went out that evening planning to kill myself? But I somehow ended up at your club instead and you came up to me regardless of how horrible I looked. And then you walked me all the way home, despite me insisting you didn't need to. I'm suicidal, fucked in the head and don't know how to act around others. I'm just telling you this because I figure you might as well know what you're signing up for here. So if you want to leave, now's your chance. But if you aren't put off by all that, why should I be put off by you? I'd say we're even."

Seb feels his mouth go dry. He had gathered that Henry obviously wasn't well, but he didn't know it was quite that serious. He walks over to an empty bench in the corner of the room, waiting for Henry to join him.
Henry does, sitting down to his right. Thankfully the room is currently empty except for them. Seb leans forward, putting his head into his hands.
"Wow, uh. I had no idea it was that bad." Before Henry gets the wrong idea, he clarifies, "That doesn't mean I don't want to get to know you anymore, just to be clear. I don't mind. Hell, I'm kind of a wreck myself, aren't I?" Sebastian tries to give him an encouraging smile. Henry just looks at him.
He considers for a moment whether or not he really wants to ask what's on his mind. He decides that he feels that he needs to, for his own peace of mind.
"Do you," he begins before trailing off. "You don't have to answer this, but do you still plan to? Kill yourself, I mean."
When Sebastian came here, he wasn't exactly anticipating having this conversation. It's heavy and depressing, but he doesn't feel any less drawn to Henry because of it.

Henry chews on his bottom lip as if in thought. "I mean, I still think about it all the time. I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But that night I decided to try to give things one last chance. One final shot at life. The next day I wanted to go right back out and die again, but then I found the note with your number. I figured I have nothing left to lose anyway, so here I am."
Sebastian's at a loss for words. He picks some lint off his slacks, trying to come up with something to say.
"What made you want to try again?" he eventually settles on, looking intently at Henry.
"I'm not sure," Henry admits. "Maybe it was seeing you up on that stage, or you telling me you liked my art and that I can make more. Just the kindness you showed. I don't know. But it somehow felt like something changed, just for a moment. You have a certain…charm to you, I suppose. I was intrigued by you too, you know."
Henry hesitates. "That little sketch I drew at your club was the first time I even picked up a pen again since the accident. As stupid as that sounds, running into you kind of felt like a sign of sorts and my perspective shifted a little, I guess."

Seb smiles a little. "Wow, I. I don't really know what to say. I'm…really glad you somehow ended up at my club that night. Instead of…you know."
"Yeah. I guess I am too." Henry looks down at his folded hands. His damp hair falls into his face, hiding his expression.
"I can't promise I'll be a great friend to you or anything. I'm not very pleasant to be around, but I'd like to try. I think I owe it to them," Henry says. Sebastian doesn't ask who it is he's talking about, figuring Henry will tell him at some point if he wants to.
"I'd like that very much," Sebastian states. "You're remarkably open about all this," he points out when Henry doesn't say anything.
"Yeah, well," Henry mutters, "it's not like I've got anything to hide. All of this is pretty obvious when you look at me." He chuckles bitterly.
"Thank you for your honesty, genuinely. It's really nice, having someone say what they think and feel instead of waiting for me to figure it out. It's refreshing," Seb says.
Henry shrugs.
"Enough of that. Wanna check out that exhibition we came here for?"
Sebastian laughs. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

—✧—

They spend most of their afternoon at the museum, making their way through the special exhibition. Sebastian doesn't know all that much about art, but Henry answers any questions he has as best he can. He's slowly opening up more as he talks about his favourite artist—some Tristán Rêveuer—and though Sebastian finds the story of his life and death to be a little morbid, he still hangs onto Henry's every word.
"I just think he's fascinating. I mean, he even turned his death into a work of art. Not only that, in the end it was the only piece of his that really mattered, his magnum opus. He burnt all his other works before his suicide, leaving only a single note: Un suicide élégant est l'oeuvre d'art finale. An elegant suicide is the ultimate work of art. There's beauty in that, I think," Henry explains when Sebastian asks him what drew him to Rêveuer.
The topic seems quite depressing to Seb, but it's nice seeing Henry display some more positive emotions. Even when they don't last too long, especially knowing what Sebastian knows now.

Henry tells him he's never been all that interested in Japanese art, hardly knows anything about it really, but they can both appreciate the technique that must have gone into these prints. It's quite different from the art one would normally see in the galleries Sebastian's familiar with, but it's a nice change of pace.
The prints are quite beautiful—they depict a myriad of plants and animals with crisp lines and bright colours. He spots one of a small, solitary black bird perched on a snowy branch.
He points it out to Henry. "This one kind of reminds me of you."
Henry scoffs. He points at the the print right next to it, depicting a peacock with its train on full display. "If that one looks like me, then this one's you," he declares.
Sebastian bursts into laughter. Henry tries to hide it, but Seb can see the tiny smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Seb watches as Henry reads the labels full of text screwed to the walls between the prints, much more interested in observing the minute changes in expression on his face than the life story of the guy who collected all these pieces.
Henry's got very long, pretty lashes. The way they flutter every time he blinks is mesmerising to watch. Sebastian spots the little bump on the bridge of Henry's nose. There's a small scar right next to it, stretching down the side of his nose. Sebastian thinks he has a very nice nose. There's a much larger scar running from Henry's left temple all the way down below his jaw. It's pink and raised, the edges jagged. His hair hides it well when it's not tucked behind his ear as it is now. Sebastian finds he could probably look at Henry for hours and not get bored. He has to fight the urge to reach out.
Henry notices him staring so Sebastian quickly averts his gaze, busying himself with admiring the texture of the walls instead.

The more he looks at Henry, the more Sebastian thinks he appears to be doing a little better than he did the first time they met. Maybe it's just a trick of the light, but aside from the dark circles Henry does look ever so slightly less pale. There's more colour to his cheeks and Seb takes that as a good sign.
After seeing all there is to see and realising the museum is about to close, they head back to the cloakroom and collect their coats. They're still damp but thankfully it's no longer raining when they step back outside. Not only that, they manage to catch the last of the sun's rays as it begins to set.
"That was actually really interesting," Sebastian says as he pulls his coat on.
"Yeah, I enjoyed that," Henry agrees, his own coat slung over his arm.
"Me too." Seb smiles. He knows it's selfish, but he doesn't want Henry to go yet.
"Would you like to grab a coffee or something?" he asks, pointing at a café across the street.
"Sure, why not," Henry replies. That makes Sebastian happier than it perhaps should.

The establishment is jam-packed with people, not a single table left for them to sit at, so they order two black coffees to go and find a bench somewhere close by.
They drink their coffee in silence, watching on as cars and pedestrians pass them by. That's when an idea floats into Sebastian's mind. It's probably stupid and he doesn't even know if Henry would be up for it, but he really doesn't want the day to end yet. They got off to a rough start but after talking it out, they both had a nice time. Maybe they can keep going for just a little longer.
"Hey. Would you be up for going somewhere else after this? There's a place I'd like to show you."
"Okay," Henry readily says and Sebastian is a little surprised by how quickly he agrees to it.
"Great! Problem is, it's sort of far away. My car is parked nearby, but I know that might not be the best idea. There's always public transport," Seb explains.
Henry hums. "We can try the car, but I can't say what might happen. Haven't been in a car in a while."
Sebastian tries to read the expression on Henry's face. He looks rather indifferent.
"I don't want you to force yourself to be in an upsetting situation. I'd happily take the bus if that's more comfortable for you," Sebastian offers.

Henry downs the last of his coffee, fiddling around with the empty paper cup.
"I suppose it's about time I challenge myself. Let's try," he decides. Sebastian nods and finishes his own coffee. He takes Henry's cup from his hands and walks over to a trashcan to throw both of them away.
"Follow me," he says. They walk the couple of blocks to where Sebastian's parked his convertible—a 1982 Buik Riviera he takes great pride in and probably treats better than he does himself.
"Here we are," he declares, looking over at Henry.
"Nice car," Henry says and Sebastian can already see his unease in the way he holds himself.
"You don't have to do this," Seb reminds him.
Henry takes a deep breath, visibly steeling his nerves then gestures towards the passenger door.
"Wanna open this?" he asks. Sebastian thinks this is a bad idea after all, but as asked he unlocks the car and opens the door for Henry.

Henry hesitates. "Fair warning, things might get ugly," he warns. He hands Sebastian his cane, takes another steadying breath and gets into the passenger seat.
He hasn't tried to sit in a car even once since the accident, but for a second, it feels perfectly ordinary. Nothing happens. Maybe he's not as traumatised as he always thought he was and can ride cars perfectly fine.
But then it hits him with the force of a freight train.
He's back in New York, looking over at Athena. She laughs, talking to his mother in the backseat. Then everything falls apart. There's a loud bang. His ears ring and suddenly they're spinning, glass and metal fracturing around him as the car is catapulted into the air and then it feels like he's flying for a moment that simultaneously feels like a single second and an eternity. He crashes into the asphalt and skids and everything hurts, it hurts so much, he smells blood, so much blood and he can't breathe—
"-enry? Henry!" someone shouts but he can't move. He's paralysed, he's going to die just like his family, he killed them—
Someone pulls him out of the car and just like that it's daytime again and he's back in the busy streets of LA.
His legs refuse to work and he braces for the impact of him hitting the ground—same material, different city—but it never comes.
He holds onto the person with the last of his strength, holds on for dear life. His vision is blurry and he still can't get any air into his lungs, his breaths hardly more than aborted little gasps.
There's a hand at the back of his neck, pressing his face into scratchy fabric. He's still worried he'll fall but as he slowly comes back to the present, he realises there's an arm wrapped securely around his waist, preventing him from going anywhere.

Someone's talking, telling him to breathe, and Henry tries but he can't, he just can't.
His cheeks might be wet—tears or blood, he can't tell, maybe both—and he squeezes his eyes shut so hard it hurts.
"It's okay, Henry. You're safe," the person says and Henry realises he recognises that voice. Sebastian. The name pops into his head like an epiphany and Henry finally manages to suck in a shuddering breath, like breaking through the surface after having been trapped underwater for too long.
"Just keep breathing. Slowly, it's okay. You're okay," Sebastian says, holding him close. He sounds panicked.
Henry tries to follow his instructions and the feeling gradually returns to his body. He's definitely crying, but he's too distraught to be embarrassed by it.
"Shh, it's alright. You're alright," Seb encourages.
Henry can't tell how long they stay like that for, but his breathing slowly but surely normalises. His face feels all tingly and he wipes his nose with the back of his hand.
"I'm sorry," he mutters and it sounds all warbled and broken. He's not sure who he's apologising to, Seb or them.

Sebastian rubs his hand up and down Henry's back, hoping it'll calm him down. His own legs are shaking and he feels incredibly guilty for not insisting they take the bus instead, for letting Henry do this to himself.
"Hey, don't be sorry. It's fine, don't worry, okay? It's all good, I promise."
He doesn't let go of Henry until he's absolutely sure he can stand on his own, silently grateful for the support himself.
Henry eventually does pull back, hiding his face behind his bangs.
"I'll take you home, okay? You'll probably need some rest," Seb says but Henry immediately shakes his head.
"No, I…I don't want to be alone right now," Henry whispers. Sebastian has to strain to hear it and his heart lurches painfully when he does.
"I could stay with you if that helps?" he offers. Henry shakes his head again.
"Take me where you wanted to go?" he asks, looking up at Sebastian with teary, pleading eyes.
His cheeks are blotchy and he furiously wipes at them with his sleeve, trying to get rid of the tears.
"Hey," Seb says, gently pulling Henry's arm away from his face, wiping his cheeks with his fingers instead.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, Henry," he says softly and with a sympathetic smile.
"Please?" Henry is practically staring him down now, desperation written all over his face and Sebastian sighs. He finds he can't deny him.
"Okay. If you're absolutely sure about it, we can go," he acquiesces.
Henry nods. He tries to pick up his cane that's fallen to the ground in the commotion, but can't quite seem to reach it. Sebastian bends down and picks it up for him.
Henry snatches it from his hands, then immediately turns around and walks off somewhere. He's limping pretty badly—worse than he did before—and once again Seb thinks they really shouldn't be doing this.
Sebastian looks between him and his car, quickly locks it and jogs after him.
"Where are you going?" he asks. Henry looks at him like he's an idiot. That's probably deserved.
"The bus stop," he declares.
"Are you sure you don't need to sit down for a moment or something? You just went through something pretty horrible." Sebastian feels like he's fussing too much, but he can't help but worry. He's not sure Henry should be up an walking so shortly after what happened.
Henry sniffs. "It's fine. I'm okay." His voice still shakes.
Sebastian wants to protest but whatever words he was about to say die on his tongue when Henry glares at him. Perhaps he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, wants to be distracted instead.

Still, Seb worries that the bus might trigger another flashback.
"Are you okay with getting on a bus? Won't that make you—"
"Seb," Henry interrupts him. Sebastian realises this is the first time Henry's ever called him by name.
"Sorry," he mutters. He decides to trust Henry on this.
Seb quietly follows Henry to the bus stop and checks the plan on display for the right bus to take.
They luckily don't have to wait too long for the next one. They get on, Sebastian pays for the fare at the front while Henry picks out a seat for them in the back.
They don't talk much the entire ride. Henry doesn't ask where it is they're going, simply staring off into the distance. He's visibly trembling, but Sebastian doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to say to him, either, still shaken up from witnessing him in that state. At first he was honestly a little shocked by how quickly Henry seemingly recovered, though it's getting more and more obvious to him now that Henry's just trying to hide how much it really affected him.

Half an hour later they switch over to another line. It's pretty dark out now and the closer they get to their destination, the more nervous Sebastian gets.
He hasn't been there in about six years, the last time he went a very bittersweet memory for him.
They get off at the closest bus stop, having to walk the rest of the way.
It's not too far, but Sebastian keeps glancing over at Henry all the same, worried his pain might be getting worse. He's more than prepared to carry him again if need be.
"Stop looking so anxious," Henry gripes as they make their way up the hill, passing underneath flickering streetlights.
"Sorry, can't help in," Sebastian mutters.
"I told you I'm okay. I can manage. I'd appreciate it if you believed me."
"I do! Or, well, I want to. I guess I'm just a worrywart," Sebastian says in defence.
Henry huffs, seemingly amused. "I gathered as much."
They reach the top of the hill at last and Henry stares, wide-eyed when he sees it.
"An observatory?" He turns to look at Sebastian, bemused. "What's that got to do with jazz?"
Sebastian chortles. "I do have interests that aren't jazz, you know," he points out.
"Huh. Wouldn't have guessed," Henry says but Sebastian can see the tiny smile he cracks.
It seems Henry is getting his bearing again, slowly but surely. It's a huge relief for Sebastian.

They walk down the long driveway, stopping a few metres away from the entrance. The observatory should still be open for another hour or so, so no breaking in this time. It's a bit of a shame, really. Somehow Sebastian gets the feeling Henry might have gotten a kick out of that.
"So…want to check it out?" he asks. He doesn't know why he's so apprehensive just to ask. Henry will probably say yes after coming all this way, but Sebastian still frets.
"Let's go," Henry says with a nod.
Admission—much like at the museum—is free, so they get to stroll right inside. The place is more or less deserted, which Sebastian supposes makes sense on a work night. Henry looks exhausted but still takes a gander at the models of planets and various instruments on display.
Sebastian stays behind at the entrance, breath catching in his throat.
Not much has changed since he last visited. It's almost like he can see the two of them—Mia and him—dancing through the halls again. He smiles to himself, but it's a melancholy smile.
Sebastian's over her, has been for a while now, but he can't help but hold some regrets. Having her show up at his club out of the blue earlier that year had shaken him up pretty badly. She looked well, has made a name for herself just like he always knew she would. He never once doubted her for a second, not even when they fought and everything fell apart.
He'd heard the news of her marriage and the birth of her first child way before she came to his club and while finding out had been a bit of a shock at the time, he truly is happy for her.
He has every reason to be happy himself. He finally achieved his life-long dream of opening his own jazz club, has lots of great, supportive friends and colleagues. He's doing really well for himself, but sometimes he can't help but wonder what could have been.

"Are you okay?"
Sebastian jumps. Henry's suddenly standing right in front of him.
"Are you okay?" he repeats. Sebastian clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm good."
He smiles, but he's not sure it quite reaches his eyes.
"Want to check out the pendulum?" he suggests, nodding his head towards the next room. He hopes Henry won't ask what's wrong.
Henry scrutinises him and Sebastian feels like he's looking right into his soul. It's frightening but also exciting, somehow. He's missed spending time like this with someone else. It's nice. He hopes Henry likes spending time with him too.
Henry finally looks away and walks off into the direction Sebastian indicated.

"It's pretty fucking big," Henry deadpans when he sees the pendulum. Sebastian chuckles.
"Sure is. If I recall correctly, it demonstrates the earth's rotation. It swings in a constant direction while the earth moves beneath it. Pretty cool," Sebastian explains.
Henry, however, seems to be more interested in the mural on the ceiling. It looks like he can't really see it well, craning his neck at an odd angle.
"Interesting," Henry remarks, massaging the back of his neck with his hand.
"I figured you might like it." Sebastian shrugs.
"It's not really my style, but it's kind of neat," Henry replies, moving on to read the information boards along the walls.
"What kind of style did you use to paint in?" Sebastian asks, following behind him.
"I don't know, I never really thought too much about it. My paintings were kind of…melancholic and fragmented, I guess? I painted things I'd seen but more so tried to capture how they made me feel than what I really saw. Just kind of did my own thing. Does that make sense?"

Sebastian hums. "I really would have loved to see your work," he says and he means every word of it.
"It was nothing special," Henry insists but Seb's sure that's not true. Someone as fascinating as Henry is bound to make captivating art. Sebastian kept that sketch he drew of him, put it up on his fridge. He smiles every time he walks past it.
"I might only have seen one of your pieces thus far, but I'm pretty sure they're all quite special."
Henry's turned away from him but Seb swears he can see his ears go a little pinker where they peek through his hair.
"Is there anything else here you wanted to show me?" Henry asks.
"Oh, yeah. There's a planetarium too," Sebastian offers.
Just as they're about to head over there, an older lady comes up to them.
"I'm really sorry gentlemen, but we're about to close for the night. I'll have to ask you to leave."
"Oh, alright. Thank you for telling us, Ma'am."
Seems like Sebastian misjudged the time they had left to take a look around the place. He's pretty bummed out but also somewhat glad he won't have to enter the room he first kissed Mia in.
"I'm really sorry," he says as he turns to Henry.
"It's okay. We can always come again another time." The statement seems to surprise them both in equal measure.
Sebastian can't help but laugh. "I suppose we can."

They leave shortly after, heading for one of the benches in the park right outside the observatory.
Henry grunts as he sits down, propping his cane up against the edge of the bench. Seb takes a seat next to him, perhaps a little closer to him than is strictly necessary.
"You holding up okay?" he asks.
"Yeah. Just getting a little tired," Henry sighs, closing his eyes. The way he massages his left leg doesn't go unnoticed, however.
Night has well and truly fallen now, the lights of the city still bright in the distance. Sebastian breathes in the crisp winter air, looking up into the dark grey skies. It smells of rain.
"You come here often?" Henry asks after a while.
"I've only been here once," Seb admits, toying with a loose thread on his coat.
"Did you come alone or did you take someone else?" Henry's watching him closely as he waits for an answer.
"I came here with my ex. We kind of had to break in though."
Henry snorts. "Seriously? I didn't take you for a delinquent."
"Yeah, well. Guess you could call it my rebellious phase," Sebastian jokes, then falls quiet. "It was a long time ago."

"Why'd you two break up?" Henry asks, watching him out of the corner of his eye.
"Oh, you know. I wanted to open my club, she wanted to be an actress. We both had to focus on pursuing our own careers. I would've followed her anywhere, no questions asked, but that would have meant giving up on my own dream. And after thinking long and hard about it, I felt I would eventually regret doing that."
"Sorry 'bout that," Henry mumbles.
"It's alright, we split on good terms. We wouldn't have worked out long-term." He shoots Henry a small smile.
"So, did she ever make it?" he inquires.
"You could say that. You've probably seen her around," Sebastian supplies.
"Really? Who is she?"
"Mia Dolan."
Henry gapes at him. "Seriously? The lady from the billboards? Even I have heard of her."
Sebastian chuckles. "Yeah, that one. I always knew she'd make it big."
"Wow," Henry mouths. "Well, I'm sure she didn't deserve you, anyway."
Seb smiles at him, not really willing to talk about this any more, lest he get all mopey.

"Enough about me. I never asked why you moved to LA."
Henry shifts in his seat. Sebastian is about to apologise for asking questions again, but Henry interrupts him with his answer.
"After the crash, I had to stay at the hospital for a long time. I got injured pretty badly, snapped my spine and leg and all. I was in a cover for over a week, had a TBI, collapsed lung, internal bleeding, all that good stuff. The doctors said it was a miracle I even survived at all," he says bitterly. Sebastian wants to reach out, do something to comfort him, but he refrains.
"It took a while for me to recover enough to be discharged, had to do lots of physical therapy and the like. And when I was finally allowed to leave, I went home to an empty house. My parents…they died in the crash. My girlfriend too. It happened just over two years ago on my 21st birthday; we were on our way home from dinner, I was driving and the front tyre suddenly blew. The car had been in for maintenance not long before that, maybe they missed something, I don't know. Nothing I could have done in that moment, but I still blame myself, you know? Why did I get to survive when they all had to die?"
Henry pauses and sniffs. His voice quivers when he continues.
"I couldn't stand staying there. It was all just bad memories. I had already missed so many of my classes, dropping out of college was easy. I wanted to get as far away as possible, that's how I ended up here."

Sebastian feels a little choked up himself. Things make a lot more sense now that he knows about this. Seb doesn't know what he could possibly say that wouldn't just be empty words.
"That's awful. I'm genuinely sorry you had to go through that. Nobody should ever have to experience that." He knows his words will hardly be any comfort, but he feels he has to at least say something.
Much to his surprise, Henry keeps talking.
"I just keep thinking, why did I get to live? Why couldn't I have died and they have survived? They didn't deserve that. I was going to propose to my girlfriend that night. We were supposed to be happy. My parents, Athena…they had so much life left to live. We had so many things we wanted to do. But instead I'm here, alone. I've just been punishing myself for their deaths, even when it's not actually my fault. I know that, I know it's not rational but I can't help it, you know? I don't go out, I'm crippled and always in pain…I suppose that's my punishment for surviving when I shouldn't have. Nobody wants to be near me because they think I'm an ugly fucking freak and they're right. I deserve it. I deserve to die and—"
Sebastian can't listen to any more of this. It breaks his heart to hear Henry speak of himself in such a manner. He might not have known him long, but he knows for a fact that Henry doesn't deserve any of this. He shouldn't have to punish himself for something he holds absolutely no blame for. He's just as much a victim in this as them.

Without thinking it through, Sebastian scoots closer to Henry and hugs him tightly.
Henry freezes momentarily and Sebastian thinks he's about to be pushed away for overstepping boundaries again, but instead Henry goes completely limp.
"They didn't deserve to die," Henry whimpers.
"It's not your fault. None of that was your fault, Henry," Sebastian urges.
Henry's shoulders shake and Sebastian guesses he must be crying. The heart-rending sob that follows confirms it.
Seb just holds him tight as he weeps.
"Hey," Sebastian says softly when it seems Henry's calmed down a little. "For what it's worth, I don't think you're ugly or a freak. You know, I think you're quite beautiful, actually."
Henry lets out a watery laugh against his chest. "If you're trying to flirt with me, it's not working."
Seb huffs, amused. "I mean it. I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. Well, maybe a little, but I still mean it."
Henry nuzzles against the front of his coat. "You're a strange guy," he states.
"Am I?" Sebastian asks, genuinely curious.
"Yeah. Doing this much for a stranger is pretty weird," Henry declares.

Seb hums. "Well, I don't think we're really strangers anymore, are we?"
"I guess not," Henry agrees.
"Sorry for getting your coat dirty," he adds after a moment.
Sebastian shrugs. "Who cares about the coat? It'll survive a few tears."
They stay like this for a while longer until Henry eventually pulls back and looks up at him.
Sebastian smiles down at him. He reaches out to tuck the strands of hair stuck to Henry's face back behind his ear.
The palm of Seb's hand comes to rest on Henry's tear-stained cheek. It's definitely not the time, but he can't help but think Henry's quite the pretty crier. He almost looks a little cute like this with his nose all red; his eyes seem even more blue now.
It's absolutely an inappropriate thought to have in this moment, but Sebastian really wants to kiss him right now.
Sebastian blindly searches for Henry's trembling hand, grabbing it tightly with his own.

"Better?" he asks. Henry nods, eyes flitting between Seb's eyes and somewhere lower.
Sebastian quirks a knowing smile. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.
"If there's something you want to do, you should just go for it," he murmurs.
Their faces are so close he can feel the warmth of Henry's breath and perhaps this is all moving a little fast, but Sebastian can't find it in himself to care. Even knowing what he knows now, he feels just as drawn to Henry as he did that first night. This feels right.
Henry surges up and before he knows it, they're kissing.
Sebastian exhales softly. Henry's lips are a little chapped and Seb can taste the saltiness of his tears, but he melts into it all the same.
The kiss is gentle and sweet. He's a little scared to break or spook Henry so he takes it slow, interlocking their fingers as he slides his other hand around to the back of Henry's neck, carding through the strands there.
Henry's breath hitches when Sebastian gently scratches his scalp. It makes Seb smile.
They part again soon after, resting their foreheads together. Sebastian wants more of this already, wants to keep kissing Henry over and over again. He's in way over his head, all of this is so sudden, but his heart hammers in his chest and he somehow feels more alive than he has in a long time.

Henry sniffs again, averting his eyes.
"Sorry, I—" he starts, but Seb hushes him.
"No need. You're fine," he assures. But Henry's crying again.
"What's wrong?" Sebastian asks, cupping his cheek once more.
"I shouldn't have done that. I don't deserve it," Henry whispers, trying to pull away. He's so open and vulnerable now, like the dam he must have been carefully constructing for the last two years has finally burst and his feelings just keep spilling out with no way to plug the hole back up.
Seb holds him in place, running his thumb underneath Henry's eye to wipe away the tears.
"Hey…hey. It's okay. Look, I'm fine, aren't I? I wanted it."
Henry does and he looks so anguished, it crushes Seb.
"You deserve good things, Henry. I promise you do. I think your family would want you to have good things too. They wouldn't want you to punish yourself for what happened."
Henry frowns. "You don't know that," he accuses.
Seb kisses his forehead.
"You're right, I don't. I can't know for sure, but I have a hunch. And my hunches are usually right."

Sebastian pulls Henry back into his arms, letting him cry it out.
"I'm such a mess. You deserve better than that. You're so kind, you can do better than me. You could have anyone you wanted," Henry snivels.
"I should get to decide that for myself, don't you think?" Seb posits.
"I really don't get you," Henry huffs.
Suddenly Sebastian's stomach grumbles, embarrassingly loud in the silence of the night. They both laugh.
"Want to grab some food at a diner on the way home?" Sebastian suggests.
"Yeah, sounds good," Henry says when they pull apart.
Seb wipes his face down one last time and then they're on their way. It's slow going because they're both exhausted and Henry visibly in pain. Seb offers to carry Henry again, but he adamantly refuses the offer.
As planned, they stop by a diner on the way to the bus stop and grab some sandwiches for the road.
They barely manage to catch the last bus running. It's a line that goes from there directly to Henry's neighbourhood, so they thankfully don't have to walk much further when they get there.

Sebastian feels a little nostalgic when they make it up to Henry's apartment, even though it's only been about three weeks since he was last here.
Henry turns around to face him, twirling his cane in his hand.
"I had a good time today, despite the hiccups. Thank you. For taking me and for sticking around and just…being there. I don't think I've talked to anyone about any of this since it all happened. I really appreciate you taking the time to listen to it all." Henry smiles tiredly.
"I had a great time, too. Thank you for being so honest with me, and for listening to me too. It really does mean a lot. Truly."
"So, you're sure you still wanna get to know me better after all that, knowing what you know now?" Henry asks. He almost sounds kind of hopeful.
"In case it wasn't obvious: yes, I am," Seb replies. Henry smiles.
"Well, at least you know what you're in for now. Any damage you might incur from here on out is your own fault" he says and shrugs.
"I'm willing to take that risk," Sebastian chuckles.

"Oh yeah," he adds, "I thought I'd let you know that I'll be out of town for a few weeks. I'm leaving on Sunday to visit my family for the holidays."
Henry nods. "Okay, I hope you have a nice time."
Sebastian grimaces. "Sorry, that was really insensitive of me."
"No matter. I do mean it," Henry assures him.
"Will you be okay by yourself?" Seb asks. Henry seems to understand what he's talking about.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill myself while you're gone. I've survived many holidays since the crash, haven't I?" Henry points out.
"Still, just call me if you need to, okay? I can be here in about four hours if necessary." He'd feel a lot better if Henry had someone with him while he's gone, but this might be the next best thing.
"Sure. It won't be though. Just enjoy your time without worrying, okay?"
Sebastian huffs. "I'll call you when I can. Or text."
"I'll be fine, Seb. Really. Don't let me affect your time with your family," Henry insists.

Seb takes Henry's hand and squeezes it. He feels really uneasy about this. Perhaps it's not his place to worry with them only having known each other for such a short time. But then again, they did kiss earlier. Surely that means he's allowed to worry at least a little. God, he really hopes this works out. He really, really does like Henry a lot.
"Okay, fine. Sorry. I'll…see you next year then?" Sebastian sounds as uncertain as he feels. He'll just have to trust Henry when he says he'll be okay.
"Yeah. See you next year," Henry says. He does sound like he means it, which eases Seb's anxiety, just a tiny little bit.
He leans over and presses a kiss to Henry's cheek, then lets go of him.
He smiles on last time and walks over to the stairs.
He stops a few steps down and glances back over his shoulder.
"Bye, Henry," Sebastian says.
Henry waves back at him and disappears into his apartment.