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When they started this thing, Sebastian would have never thought that the ending would come in a smoky hole-in-the-wall bar in Brooklyn. Then again back then he never really thought it would end at all.
This ending isn’t one of the bang or whimper variety either, it’s quieter even than that. They’ve both known this was coming for the past few months even though they haven’t talked about it all that much. The not-talking said enough, and probably said it better than either of them would have been able to articulate. They’re neither of them great communicators, it’s part of what’s made them work all these years, that they both are better at expressing themselves through action, through touch, than words. Now that they are at the end of things Sebastian kind of wishes he had a few words though, magic ones that might change the reality of their situation.
Hunter looks good, leaning in close next to him in the booth in dark jeans and an old henley. He always looks good, really, but Sebastian finds himself noticing it more tonight, maybe because it’s one of the last chances he’ll have to notice. Hunter is smiling slightly, the two empty pints in front of him lending a flush to his cheeks and a softness to his eyes. He looks comfortable in his skin in a way he hadn’t been when they first met in high school. He’d faked it well back then but Sebastian had been able to recognize a kindred broken spirit underneath the bravado.
Sebastian wonders if the years have worn down his own edges too, if when Hunter looks at him now he sees a softer, better Sebastian than the bitter boy he used to be. He hopes so, hopes that when Hunter gets on that plane tomorrow the image he takes with him is of the person he feels like today – the boy who loves more, accepts more, tries harder. He hopes Hunter remembers what Sebastian looked like loving him.
And he does love him, so much. It’s the only reason he’s letting him go.
Hunter leans in closer and just the press of their arms together sends a longing through Sebastian almost too much to bear. “It’s getting late,” Hunter says hesitantly, like he doesn’t want to say it but it needs saying. Sebastian understands the feeling, knows that Hunter’s flight is leaving in a little over 8 hours and this night has to end sometime even though neither of them wants it too.
He knows too that if they leave now it won’t quite be the goodbye scene yet. There will be a stumble back to the apartment and then slow kisses, soft touches, memorizing the feel of each other’s bodies one last time. There will be coffee in the morning and arguing over the radio on the way to the airport. The final goodbye will take place in a line of traffic at the departures gate, with strangers and exhaust fumes all around. It will be hurried and fumbling, will rush them through a moment Sebastian knows he is going to hold like a thorn in his heart for the rest of his life.
He knows all this, and yet somehow he feels like until they leave this bar none of that is true yet. Somehow when they walk out into their last New York night together it is going to feel like they’ve started saying goodbye, and he isn’t ready for that, not quite yet. He’s not sure how to say it though, which has always been his problem.
“But,” Hunter adds after a loaded few seconds in which Sebastian begs his voice to put words to his heart for once, “I guess we could order one more round.”
It feels like the lifeline it is, and Sebastian nods gratefully. Not goodbye yet then. Hunter throws him a wink, slides out of the booth to head up to the bar to order. Sebastian watches him go, admires the view. Tries not to think about not getting to see it again. When Hunter returns he’s got two shot glasses and a bottle of Jaeger and Sebastian can’t help the grin that splits his face.
“Oh my god, do you remember-“ Sebastian starts, before Hunter cuts in with, “Freshman orientation? Um, no, I don’t actually. Which I’m pretty sure was half the fun.”
From there they’re off, reminiscing about their shared history – two years of high school, four years of undergrad and 3 years of post. Summers on the road, stuck in Ohio, in New York. Classes and parties, shared dorms and awful roommates. That miserable year Sebastian did study abroad, and the equally awful 3 months Hunter spent in LA following some girl he’d thought he was in love with. A few shots in they start talking about some of the things they never talk about. The fights they’ve had, the heartache they’ve caused each other. The way they fell in love.
It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt. The kind that lets you know not just that you’re alive but that it’s worth living. Hunter reminisces about the first time Sebastian kissed him, how it was both wonderful and terrifying, and Sebastian can’t for the life of him remember why it took him so long to do it in the first place, can’t help but lean in to kiss him again. It’s soft, quick; even after all these years Hunter isn’t especially comfortable with public displays. This time though Hunter leans back in, presses his lips to Sebastian’s hard.
When he pulls back he looks sad, and Sebastian doesn’t want that. There will be plenty of time for sadness tomorrow. So he forces a smile, puts teasing in his voice and says, “Well let me tell you babe, if you want to talk about wonderful and terrifying we should really be reminiscing about the first time you tried to blow me. Because that was pretty much the definition of both those things at once.”
It has the desired effect, Hunter grins and shoves at his arm, turns a little pink around his ears in embarrassment. “I wasn’t that bad,” he argues.
“You were enthusiastic, I’ll give you that,” Sebastian counters with a wicked grin.
“Well I didn’t hear you complaining when I spent the next two hours practicing my technique,” Hunter huffs, and Sebastian can’t help but kiss him again right on his pouty mouth.
“No, you didn’t,” he agrees when he pulls back, smiling softly.
Hunter smiles too and Sebastian’s own wavers a little under the overwhelming realization of what he’s losing. The past few days have gone by so fast, just a frenzy of last minute travel arrangements and packing, hectic activity to distract them both from the fact that the end is coming. It hasn’t been enough time, it will never be enough time, and Sebastian wants back all the time they wasted getting here. He’d take the fights, the misunderstandings, all of it for just another day of the good.
Hunter picks up on the mood change, his grin tipping south at the corners and Sebastian can’t have that. He might want nothing more in his selfish heart than for Hunter to stay, but loving Hunter has taught him how to be less selfish.
“You’re gonna give ‘em hell out there, you know?” Sebastian says before he can overthink it, because it’s true. Hunter is going to be amazing, and they’ve both put off their dreams long enough.
“Yeah?” Hunter asks.
“Yeah,” Sebastian says, forcing the smile back on his face even if he can’t quite make it reach his eyes. “They’re gonna love you as much as I do.”
“Bas,” Hunter exhales, voice stricken, and Sebastian kisses him again to keep him from saying anything else. He isn’t looking for words from Hunter, there isn’t anything Hunter can tell him that he doesn’t already know. He knows Hunter loves him, just as he knows it doesn’t change anything. So he doesn’t need some sort of answer, he’d just wanted to be able to say it one more time while he still could.
When he pulls back Hunter’s got his eyes closed and Sebastian thinks his heart might break from how beautiful this boy next to him is. Hunter’s eyes flutter open slowly, and he looks lovely and sad and Sebastian really wants to kiss him again. He doesn’t though, lets Hunter have a moment to collect himself. There will be time for kissing later, and if he pushes it too far they’ll hit that part of the evening and this part will be over. If this is the last time he ever gets to sit in a bar and have a drink with the boy he loves then he’s going to enjoy every second of it.
Hunter blinks twice, takes a deep breath, puts on a smile that’s only a little rough around the edges. For a moment it looks like he might say something else, mouth parting on words unspoken. Instead he reaches up and puts a hand against the side of Sebastian’s neck, rubs his thumb over the hollow beneath Sebastian’s ear softly in a gesture that is as familiar to Sebastian as breathing. Before either of them can get choked up again, he turns to pour out two more shots, pushes one over to Sebastian and lifts his own in toast.
“Here’s to us,” Hunter says, and in those three words he says it all. Sebastian raises his own shot glass and clinks them together. “To us,” he agrees, meeting Hunter’s eyes and letting him know he understands.
The end is coming, but there’s still time for just one more drink first.