Work Text:
It had been a bad day. A shitty, annoying, frustrating, no good fucking day.
They happened to Sebastian more often than seemed fair. Between living in a house where he was so very clearly not wanted around, having to fight day in and day out at work to simply not get taken advantage of and be adequately paid for his time, and the tempest that haunted the back of his consciousness, it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise.
Still, the world got loud.
And there was only so much that chain-smoking by the lake could fix.
Sebastian's phone was burning a hole in his pocket. It was late, but not the latest that he'd ever texted her. He usually didn't text first at all, waiting for her to make the call: it wasn't like he ever had plans, anyway. She was the one with a schedule, with friends and events and things to take up her time. Sebastian was one of things every now and then, sure, but only when it was convenient.
Going back and forth about it, he smoked another cigarette down to the filter, pinching off the last of the paper and ash and pocketing the rest.
He wore black and smoked and rode a motorcycle and fucked pretty girls that were too good for him — at least on the surface — but he didn't litter. He wasn't that fucked up.
No closer to a decision, minutes ticking by, Sebastian went to light another cigarette, only to be greeted by an empty box. He crushed the cardboard in his hand, rolling his eyes to the darkened sky, cursing under his breath.
That did it.
He flipped his phone open and found the text thread that he opened and closed more often than he'd care to admit. It was 8:27 already. He sent one text, snapping the phone closed again before he could regret it.
9?
He might as well go back inside, if he wasn't going to smoke any more. It was still cold, despite the calendar reading spring. He'd nearly reached the door when his phone buzzed twice in quick succession from his hoodie pocket.
915
E has friends over
Sebastian didn't smile at his phone. He didn't.
If one side of his mouth turned up when he looked away from it, it didn't count.
—
One quick shower and clean hoodie later and Sebastian was back outside, slouching down the steep path to town with his bag on his shoulder. It wasn't a far walk, but it was a steep enough grade that he had to take his time. Besides, he was early. Normally, he'd post up on the back wall of the Community Center and smoke until he heard her heels on the cobblestones.
Today, he couldn't think of anything more unappealing than that.
The Community Center still had power, for some stupid reason. It had been closed for over a decade, but their tax dollars still went towards keeping the lights in an abandoned building on. The mayor really had his priorities straight, Sebastian thought. But hey, at least they could see.
Down in the boiler room, Sebastian dumped his bag on the floor and followed it down, folding his knees to his chest, resting his chin atop them. He checked his phone — 9:09, no messages — then discarded it on the floor too.
He hoped she'd be there soon.
It was quiet in the boiler room. Too quiet. Sebastian could hear his pulse in his ears, hear the hum in the back of his head growing louder to fill the dead air. It made his chest feel tight, breath catching in his throat. It made his forearms itch. It made his lungs burn. He wanted a cigarette. He wanted to rip his skin open and yank his brain out of his body, just so that it would be quiet for once.
The door eased open.
A head of blonde hair peeked in. Closed mouth, lip gloss smile.
"Oh good, you're already here," Haley said, closing the door behind her. "Didn't expect this today- oh."
Sebastian's face burned as she looked him up and down, still curled against the wall.
"Bad day, huh?"
Not trusting his voice, Sebastian shrugged once.
"Hm. That sucks." Haley dropped her own backpack to the ground, unzipping it to pull out a quilt — she had a different one every time, somehow. She spread it out on the floor, bringing it right up next to Sebastian, then plopped down beside him, wrinkling her nose at the dirty wall he leaned against. "Want to talk about it?"
Sebastian snorted. They didn't talk about things. At least, not things outside of sex, and even then, only when it strictly necessary.
"Well. I'm not going to fuck you if you're gonna be all-" she waved her hand at him, "-mopey about it. So, either you start talking, or I can turn around and go hang out with Emily's weird friends."
"Seriously?" he asked, incredulity cutting through the tie on his tongue.
"Trust me, I don't want that either, but I will."
She adjusted herself, sitting cross-legged perfectly perpendicular to him. He could see right up her skirt like this, pale blue panties matching her nails this week. Nails that were snapping in front of his face, demanding his attention again.
"Eyes up here," she said sharply, sweet smile dripping with self satisfaction. Like she'd caught him, hook line and sinker. "Well? What are the trials and tribulations of the local emo this week? Pierre run out of black hair dye again? Your roots are showing."
Sebastian's hand flew to the top of his head without his permission. "No they aren't," he snapped. He'd dyed it just last weekend: his roots didn't fade that fast.
Haley laughed. "Alright, they aren't. Not yet," she admitted.
Sebastian rolled his eyes, turning his head away from her. She knew exactly what to say to get under his skin.
But, damn it, it was already easier to breathe.
He knew she wasn't going to let them move on until he answered her question. So, he mumbled to the empty room. "Just a lot of shit going on with work."
It wasn't the full truth, but it was probably good enough.
"It's awfully rude to not look at someone when you're talking to them."
Fucking hell.
Sebastian picked his head up and turned back to face her fully again, a retort already ready to go. But, she beat him to it with a sweet smile.
"Good boy," she cooed.
Fucking hell.
Sebastian didn't have a thing for humiliation. He didn't want to be degraded, he didn't like doing the degrading. And he didn't have a praise kink.
…unless Haley was the one doing it.
"I find it hard to believe that a bad day at work did all this. Unless you're like, way more fucked up than I thought."
"Gee, thanks."
"Anytime. What else is going on?"
Sebastian covered his face with his hands, digging his fingers into his temples. "I didn't text for a therapy session."
"Oh, really? And here I thought you just liked talking to me."
"Yeah right."
"Well then, what did you text me for, Sebastian?"
They so rarely said each other's names at all that it sent a thrill down his spine to hear his name on her lips. Taboo, forbidden, acknowledgement of who they were and what they were doing.
"Take a wild guess, Haley."
She put a finger to her chin, frowning and looking off into space. "Hm, I can't think of anything you could possibly want. Looks like you'll have to tell me exactly what it is. Full detail, go on. Use your words now."
Sebastian's face was on fire. His dick was hard against the zipper of his pants, aching for it, aching for her.
"Fuck me," he muttered. It was beyond embarrassing. He was desperate, getting worse with every second spent under that blue gaze that she didn't spend touching him.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. What was that?"
"Fuck, fuck me," he repeated louder, half a curse, half a plea. He let his legs drop, knees falling to the sides and letting the tent in his pants become common knowledge, if it wasn't already.
Haley hummed, eyes dropping to his lap. "I didn't hear a 'please'."
"Please fuck me."
"And why would I want to do that?"
Sebastian's head thudded against the wall as he groaned. She was so fucking frustrating.
"Haley, please, please. I'll eat you out before and after, just, fuck, please."
"Duh," she said, rolling her eyes. "I thought that was a given." She straightened her legs out, hooking one foot over his lap casually as she inspected her nails, distinctly not looking at him. "Well? Go ahead."
This, Sebastian could do.
He could do direct instructions. He could make her come, even on his worst days. He slid one hand up the inside of her thigh, past the hem of her skirt, up to the blue panties that he couldn't see anymore. She sighed when he touched her through the cotton, letting her legs drift the tiniest further bit apart.
Sebastian did his best to keep his touch light, bordering on teasing for as long as he was able. Until the small damp spot on her panties had grown, until she was oh so subtly rocking her hips against him, her eyes closed. Of course, that hadn't been the plan, and Haley did not forget.
"I thought you were supposed to be eating me out, not touching me over my clothes like we're fourteen."
Sebastian smiled his best innocent smile, stolen from Sam. It didn't work quite as well as when Sam did it, if Haley's flat glare was any indication. So, he hooked his fingers in her waistband and pulled, bring her skirt and panties down to her ankles in one go. She deftly kicked the garments off entirely, her face screwing up when they landed on the dirty ground, then quickly smoothing over when Sebastian finally affixed his mouth to her core.
Games over, he worked quickly, his hands on her hips as he ran his tongue over her clit, as he sucked and kissed and brought her to the edge and over.
Haley's hand was in his hair, pulling at the not-yet-brown roots. She used it to drag him up her body, up until they were face to face, inches apart.
"Strip," she purred, her cheeks now sporting a high blush. "Show me how much you want this."
This was by far the worst part. When he fucked her, or when she blew him, he could get away with just losing his pants, or even sometimes not even that much, simply yanking the waist of everything down a few inches. But, when it was the other way around, Haley made him take everything off.
Sebastian wore baggy clothes for a reason. When his hoodies were purposefully two sizes too big, it was easier to forget how thin his frame was, how horribly lanky his limbs were, how scars showed up like neon lights on too-pale skin. When all that was stripped away, he had nowhere to hide.
Haley was a lot of things. She was a bitch, if Sebastian was being frank. She was stuck up, entitled, and grated on every single nerve Sebastian had, plus fifteen more he wasn't previously aware of.
But, she was not cruel.
Whatever her opinions of him, whatever she thought about the scars on his arms and thighs or about the way the bones of his hips stuck out or about the perpetual hunch to his shoulders, she kept it to herself. She could be mean, she could be rude, but she was not cruel.
"Good boy," she said again. "Did you bring…?"
"Y-yeah. In my bag."
Despite having twice the people in his house, they'd learned that Sebastian had infinitely more privacy at home than Haley, what with an older sister more than willing to rifle through her room for whatever she was missing at any given time. If there was one thing that Haley understood that Emily didn't, it was boundaries. So, they kept everything at Sebastian's house instead, just to be on the safe side.
Now, Haley pulled everything out from his bag, laying it out on the quilt. Sebastian had laid back down, propped up on his elbows to watch as she shimmied out of her tank top and stepped into the harness, buckling it around her waist with practiced ease.
It was so mind-numbingly hot that it was a wonder Sebastian didn't just come on the spot.
Still, he couldn't help but give himself a few strokes, taking in the sight.
"So impatient," she tsked, shaking her head at him. She kicked the bottle of lube his direction. "Do something useful while you're waiting, hm?"
Sebastian held the bottle in his hand loosely, turning it from side to side. Hesitating.
He could, he knew. He should. But, that lump in his throat was back, the one that was hard to swallow around and locked him up, paralyzed in the in between. Unable to make himself back out, unable to say the words or do the work that would propel him forward.
He wasn't sure exactly what emotion it was that Haley picked up on his face. Fear, panic, the crippling sudden realization of his inadequacy… something like that, probably. Something small shifted behind her eyes, registering it, readjusting their course. She dropped to her knees in front of Sebastian, silicone cock bobbing between her legs and drawing his eyes.
Hers were gentle when she plucked the bottle of lube from his hands, the ghost of a smile, an ounce of understanding.
Sebastian wanted to cry from relief. He wouldn't — couldn't — but the sentiment was there. She sucked at the head of his cock while she worked her fingers into him, the dueling sensations of discomfort and pleasure — rapidly shifting to pleasure — making him forget about the shitty, annoying, frustrating, no good fucking day. She hooked those same fingers into his mouth as she slowly pushed in, unrelenting, but taking her time. When all the air in Sebastian's lungs had been punched out of him by the feeling of her hips against the backs of his legs, she brushed her thumb along the edge of his jaw, closer to a tender touch than they usually let themselves get.
He was drowning in her, but it was just fine, as it turned out that she was what Sebastian breathed.
And sure, they were just each other's means to an end. They only kissed bodies, never lips. They only fucked and got fucked. Haley wasn't for Sebastian, and Sebastian wasn't for Haley. They weren't meant to be anything more.
It got a little hard to believe that they weren't already anything more when she fucked him over the edge of his orgasm, crying out and clenching around her, her nails digging into his hips. It got a little hard to believe that this was all they were good for when Haley rode his face after, cashing in on her promised second of the night with the strap still on. It got a little hard to believe that they would lose this someday when they pulled their clothes back on after, parting ways outside the Community Center in the dark with soft voices.
"I hope you have a better day tomorrow."
"I hope so too."
"Text me if you don't, 'kay?"
"…okay. Goodnight, Haley."
"Goodnight, Sebastian."