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Sebastian never thought he’d hate going out clubbing, but jesus fucking christ all he want to do was go the hell home.
Except home is empty.
He couldn’t have what he really wanted, which was his big, stupid arms wrapped around him like he’d never let go.
Except he did let go.
Hunter left.
Because of course he did. Sebastian was not a stranger to having to move on from people and things quickly. Everyone and anything good in his life eventually left, so he’d become quite gifted in the art of not giving a flying fuck.
Except this time, it hurt really fucking bad. He gave a lot of fucks.
All because of stupid Hunter and his big, stupid arms and his nice, stupid smile and that thing he did with his tongue–
"Get out of your head, Sebby!" a voice to his left shouted over the music. Over the song that he and Hunter would listen to on repeat on their daily run.
Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Leave me alone, Thad."
Thad, the offender, shoved a shot glass into his hand. "You need to get over yourself, Sebastian. Over him. Love is a lie. You know that, so act like it."
Sebastian considered. On one hand, sitting at the bar moping sounded rather appealing, if a little depressing. On the other, getting shitfaced with his friends would probably be a nice distraction from all these feelings.
Stupid feelings.
He didn’t use to have those. Those days were easier. He was able to get out of bed without feeling a pressing weight on this chest, chaining him to the covers.
Hunter might’ve ruined his ability to suppress his emotions, but that didn’t mean he needed to ruin a night out.
He downed the shot, hardly tasting whatever bitterness it contained before asking for another. Thad cheered beside him. "Drinks are on me tonight, Sebby! Let’s get you wasted!"
Wasted Sebastian was less fun than he used to be, apparently.
Wasted Sebastian decided to hit someone’s joint in the middle of the night, turning him into Crossed Sebastian.
Crossed Sebastian felt heavy, both physically and emotionally. Hunter was at the forefront of his mind the whole time, taking up space that used to be reserved for having fun and partying. The part of his brain that was dedicated to checking out guys and hooking up with the few worthy enough for him no longer existed. In its place, Sebastian couldn’t stop thinking about Hunter going out with people like they used to. Touching them. Kissing them. It made him want to vomit. And he’s not quite certain, but he thought maybe he did actually throw up because Thad and Jeff—when did he arrive?—were hauling him to his own car.
Hunter’s name ghosted Sebastian’s lips the entire ride home. He was desperate to talk about it with someone, anyone, but his tongue was heavy and he couldn’t push the words out. He was vaguely aware of Jeff asking him questions, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on the words.
The only thing that cut through was Thad saying, "Maybe we shouldn’t invite him out for a while."
Oh hell no.
He lost Hunter, he couldn’t lose his only friends too. When he tried to communicate that he wanted to keep hanging out and he’d try and try and try to be better, all that came out was a soft, "No."
A response never came, or at least not one that Sebastian heard. That was okay, though. As long as they understood.
Sebastian didn’t like being alone in his apartment. Not when it used to be filled with Hunter’s laughing and yelling and now it’s silent.
Like the idiot he was, a sound outside his door had his heart racing. There was absolutely no doubt that this was Hunter coming to take him back for good.
It wasn’t.
Sebastian felt his heart break just a little bit more, then cringed at the feeling.
He used to use men for his own benefit, fuck them and leave them behind. He didn’t get phone numbers, didn’t use a real name, and didn’t stay the night. He wasn’t a commitment kind of guy, and that was alright by him.
That is, until Hunter came along and ruined all that.
His and Hunter’s separation hit him differently than anything else on the planet, and it hit him harder than a wrecking ball.
Stupid fucking feelings.