Chapter Text
It’s like a song specifically made for Sebastian, Sam thought, leaning against a nearby tree.
Sebastian was crouched at the water’s edge, boots sunk slightly into the mud, hoodie sleeves pushed up and already darkened with damp. The surface of the pond rippled with every raindrop and every loud ‘plop’ of a frog diving in, moonlight shattering and reforming again and again. Sebastian leaned forward, intent and focused, like the rest of the world had politely stepped aside so he could exist uninterrupted. A rainy night like this was a comfort he relished in, letting the silence of the cold night wrap around him.
Sam stood a few feet back, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, and all he could think about was how beautiful Sebastian looked like this. Hair damp and reflecting the moonlight, posture relaxed, a soft smile occasionally forming on his lips. Sam’s pulse skyrocketed each time Sebastian smiled at him like this, unconcerned and at peace.
He’d known Sebastian for…hell, he’d lost track long ago. Most of their lives. Long enough that the thought settled into his chest with weight. Long enough that it felt strange to remember there had ever been a time before him. Before sneaking out at night, sharing earbuds and half-finished energy drinks. Before sitting cross-legged on bedroom floors with a busted amp between them, arguing about chord progressions like it was life or death or playing Solarian Chronicles, or Sebastian kicking Sam’s ass at pool every Friday with that cheeky, smug smirk that made Sam feel weak.
Sebastian shifted, excitement flashing through him as something small moved near the reeds. Sam watched the familiar way his shoulders tensed and he ducked down closer, a harmless and curious hunter of his favorite animal.
This was the version of Sebastian that never quite showed up in town. Not the quiet programmer holed up in his basement, not the sarcastic friend leaning against brick walls with his arms crossed, but this: absorbed, delighted, completely unguarded.
A quick movement out of the corner of his eye, hands shooting out into the reeds and cupping the little creature he’d found, and then Sebastian straightened slightly, triumphant.
“Got you,” he murmured, more reverent than victorious. “Huh. This little guy is pretty calm, all things considered…” He chuckled, eyes softening.
He turned, cradling the small frog in his hands, rain sliding down his fingers. The frog was bright-eyed and green, its tiny chest fluttering rapidly as it adjusted to being temporarily abducted by a very gentle giant. Sebastian’s grin split his face open, boyish and unfiltered, eyes shining. He turned to Sam, delighted, and Sam’s breath hitched, cheeks warming.
Moonlight caught in Sebastian’s black hair intermittently as clouds drifted above, turning the rain-wet strands into dark silver ribbons. His eyes looked almost too dark in the low light, soft and sharp all at once. His cheeks were pink from the cold, his lips parted like he was about to laugh or say something Sam would carry with him for weeks without meaning to.
He was really good at that, much to Sam’s dismay.
Sam’s brain did the thing it always did when he felt too much all at once. He’d done this for most of his teenage life. When his dad was deployed, when his mom chastised him for not working hard enough—’even though I’ve become a stand-in parent and pay bills,’ Sam thought bitterly.
He started turning everything into music.
You always look like this when you’re actually happy, Sam thought, the words already stacking themselves into lyrics he’d probably scribble down later at three in the morning.
He imagined a song about late nights and borrowed light. About growing up and realizing your best friend had quietly become the center of everything.
About standing in the rain pretending you weren’t falling for someone because calling it “falling” implied you hadn’t been there all along, which Sam absolutely had been, though it had taken him a little longer to realize how much Sebastian was the center of his world and his feelings weren’t just in the context of best friends.
No, surely other best friends don’t have blood rush to their groin when the other changes in front of them, or sleeps next to them in bed.
Sebastian laughed softly, adjusting his grip on the frog. “Okay, I promise I’ll put you back in a second,” he said, like the frog could understand him. “I just—look how cool you are.” He chuckled. The frog blinked one eye, then the other, and rubbed at the top of their head with their little webbed toes.
Sam smiled despite himself. Of course Sebastian talked to frogs still, he’d done that since they were kids. Of course Sam was standing there, soaked and stupidly warm inside his chest, thinking about how maybe—maybe—this was the kind of moment people wrote songs about on purpose. He’d certainly filled pages of his notebook with lines that floated into his mind when he watched Seb like this.
Moonlight on your skin, and I’m drowning in the way you glow.
You’re the shadow in my doorway, the hush before the storm.
I’d write you into every song, if you’d just let me call you home.
Hm…something he could definitely workshop later, not that he planned to record it or play it for anyone else, but it helped to work out his feelings in music form.
Kept him from accidentally saying them out loud.
Sebastian glanced over, finally noticing Sam’s silence.
“You okay?” he asked, brow creasing slightly, concern threading through the excitement as he looked at him.
Sam startled when Sebastian spoke, like he’d been caught doing something wrong instead of just… thinking too hard, the way he always did. He offered a crooked, half-hearted smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and shrugged one shoulder.
“Yeah. Sorry,” he said, voice soft, a little sheepish. “I spaced out.”
He stepped closer and crouched beside Sebastian, their shoulders brushing. The cold seeped through his jeans immediately, but he didn’t care. Being this close felt grounding—like pressing a hand to the amp to feel the vibration and remember you were part of the sound.
Sebastian’s expression eased the moment Sam joined him, tension melting out of his face as if Sam’s proximity alone was enough to reassure him. He leaned in without seeming to think about it, turning his cupped hands so Sam could see properly.
The frog blinked up at them, small and impossibly calm, rain beading on its smooth green skin.
“Look,” Sebastian murmured. “Isn’t he perfect?”
Sam huffed a quiet laugh under his breath. “You say that about literally every frog.”
“Because they are,” Sebastian said, grinning, eyes bright as he tilted his hands slightly so the frog could adjust. “They just…hang out, minding their business, and don’t even pay us any mind. I’m really glad we got one last good rain before winter…”
Sam watched the way Sebastian spoke, the way his voice softened around the edges, like he was letting himself be gentle in a world that rarely gave him room for it. The rain slid down Sebastian’s lashes. Moonlight caught along the curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose. His excitement was contained, glowing, like an ember held close. Like the little frog in his hand.
Tiny miracles, Sam thought, and the phrase immediately tangled itself into a melody in his head.
Tiny miracles hiding in the dark / you hold them like you’re afraid the world will break them apart…
He swallowed and shifted slightly, knees knocking together as he tried to keep his thoughts from spilling out of him. Yoba, Sebastian’s excitement was…unfairly adorable. It always had been. Sam could track it back through years of memories. Sebastian getting fired up about a new game mechanic he’d worked on for one of his gigs, the day he brought home his bike for the first time, about a line of code that finally worked, explaining the problem he’d had with it like Sam understood what any of the words meant. This was the same look, just stripped of irony. No defenses. Just joy.
Sebastian smiled to himself, then leaned forward and lowered his hands to the water’s edge. “Okay,” he said gently. “Go on.”
The frog hesitated, then sprang from Sebastian’s palms in a quick, decisive hop, disappearing into the reeds with a soft rustle. Both of them watched the water ripple, the disturbance spreading outward until the pond smoothed again.
Sebastian lingered there a moment longer, like he was saying goodbye, then pushed himself upright. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders hunching slightly as if the cold had finally caught up to him.
Or something else had.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, staring out over the pond. “About Zuzu again. Since I’ve saved up so much, I could probably start looking for apartments...”
The words landed wrong, the weight knocking the air from Sam’s lungs. His heart dropped straight through his chest, his throat tightening.
“Oh,” he said, a weak laugh tumbling out before he could stop it. He looked away, eyes tracing the wet rocks at their feet, the glimmering surface of the pond, anything but Sebastian’s face. “Yeah? You’d hate it there.”
Sebastian glanced over, the crease between his brows deepening, but Sam kept going, because if he stopped, he might not start again.
“I mean, first off, you hate crowds. Second, no ponds. Well, maybe ponds, but I doubt they’ll have lots of frogs, like here,” he added, gesturing vaguely. “So no frogs.” His laugh came out thin, stretched. “And you’d be way too far away to work on the band together. No Solarian Chronicles every weekend. No Friday nights at the saloon wrecking the pool table. No showing up at my place for band practice and…and telling me my lyrics are bad, even though they’re not.” He laughed, but it was too forced. He sounded almost frantic. “And, how am I supposed to come pester you in your room all the time?”
Each word felt like a small loss as he named it, his eyes suddenly misty.
Sebastian had talked about moving to Zuzu for years. Sam knew this, but knowing how soon it could be seemed to make him spiral, finally letting out the heartache and feelings of rejection right there in the rain like a lunatic…
“And, uh,” he finished quietly, voice catching despite his best effort, “your favorite person would be stuck here.”
The rain seemed louder in the silence that followed.
Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek, jaw working like he was trying to chew through something unspoken. For a moment, his expression closed off, unreadable. Walls sliding back into place out of habit. His gaze flicked toward the pond just as another frog broke the surface with a soft plop, ripples spreading lazily through the moonlight.
He exhaled.
“I was kind of hoping,” he said, barely above the rain, “that you’d come with me, Sam.”
Sam’s breath caught hard enough it almost hurt.
What?
He turned back too quickly, cheeks burning, heat rushing up his neck like he’d been standing too close to a fire. It felt like a fire, at least, the tips of his ears turning a shade of pink. “W-What?” he asked, stupidly, like he hadn’t heard him.
Sebastian’s eyes were on him now, steady and serious and a little terrified, but determined. The rain slicked his hair down against his temples, catching on his piercings and tracing his jaw. His hands stayed buried in his hoodie pockets, knuckles pressing white against the fabric.
“With me,” Sebastian repeated, softer. “I didn’t mean…without you.”
Sam’s eyes went wide, like the world had suddenly tilted and he hadn’t found his footing yet. His mouth opened, closed. Opened again. Nothing came out. The rain blurred at the edges of his vision, and it took him a second—longer than he wanted to admit—to realize it wasn’t just the weather. His eyes burned, sea glass green and blue now glassy, and his lips twitched into a smile that wobbled like it didn’t trust itself to stay.
He looked away quickly, embarrassed by the way his chest felt too tight.
Of course Sebastian wanted him to move with him. Why had he never asked..?
Sebastian noticed the shift in Sam’s expression immediately, his own softening, the sharp edges easing as he stepped closer. He lifted one hand from his pocket and rested it on Sam’s shoulder, warm even through the damp fabric.
He was grounding him…
“Did you really think,” Sebastian asked quietly, “that I’d leave without you?”
Sam’s lower lip trembled despite his best efforts, and he huffed out a shaky laugh that didn’t fool either of them. “I—” He stopped, swallowing hard. He hated this part. Hated crying. Hated how close he was to it. “I don’t know. I just…thought you’d outgrown this place and wanted to go…get a fresh start, I dunno...”
The relief was a wave, heavy and sudden, washing through him so fast it left him unsteady. It scared him how much it meant.
Sebastian frowned. Not angry, just deeply, genuinely concerned, and lifted his hand from Sam’s shoulder to his cheek, thumb brushing lightly over damp skin. He tilted Sam’s face toward him, gently but firmly, forcing him to look into Seb’s eyes.
He laughed awkwardly, breathy, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes. “Sorry. I’m being stupid,” he muttered, glancing away one more time, a soft, embarrassed smile tugging at his mouth. He took a breath, then another, and finally let his gaze flick back.
Sebastian was standing so close now.
Up close, he could make out the flecks of green in Sebastian’s eyes, and how long his lashes were. Sam was taller—he always forgot how much until moments like this—and Sebastian had to tilt his head slightly to meet his eyes. Sam’s reflection stared back at him in Sebastian’s dark gaze. Messy blond hair grown out just enough to flirt with mullet territory, freckles scattered across flushed cheeks; the small glint of his nose ring catching the moonlight. All long limbs and lean muscle, restless energy barely contained. Sebastian’s lips twitched into a little smile, tilting his head slightly.
“…You idiot…”
Sebastian’s bangs fell over one eye, damp and in need of a trim. His lip piercings caught the light when he breathed. His skin looked pale against the dark night, his eyes framed by lashes too long to be fair. His hand was still warm against Sam’s cheek, thumb resting just below his eye like he might catch the next tear before it fell.
And he looked…worried.
Not distant. Not cool. Just worried that Sam hadn’t known. That Sam hadn’t expected him to ask.
Something in Sam’s chest cracked.
He was so scared—terrified, really—that he was about to ruin everything. That this was the line you weren’t supposed to cross, that once you did, there was no way back to Friday nights and shared headphones and inside jokes that felt like home. But the thought of not doing anything, of swallowing this down again, felt worse. It felt unbearable.
Before he could overthink it—he most certainly tried not to, at least—before the fear could talk him out of it, Sam lifted his hand. His fingers brushed Sebastian’s cheek, tentative at first, like he was checking if he was real. Sebastian stilled completely, breath catching, eyes widening just a fraction. Sam felt it. The way Sebastian froze, brain scrambling to catch up, to figure out how and what and why—
Sam leaned in and kissed him.
It was soft and unsure and honest in a way that made Sebastian’s chest ache.
Sebastian’s lips were warm, a little parted in surprise, and for a heartbeat he didn’t move at all.
Then Sam pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Sebastian’s, eyes squeezing shut as a tear finally escaped, tracking down his cheek.
Sebastian’s mind went blissfully blank.
“I— I’m sorry,” Sam blurted, the words tumbling over each other as panic finally caught up to him. He stepped back half a pace, then another, hands lifting like he could physically undo what he’d just done. “Seb, I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t have— I just—”
“Sam—”
Sebastian grabbed the front of Sam’s jacket and surged forward, kissing him before he could spiral any further.
Their lips crashed together, messy and uncoordinated, teeth knocking just a little as Sam gasped in surprise. Sam’s hands came up instinctively, clutching at Sebastian’s hoodie, pulling him closer with a soft, disbelieving sound caught in his throat.
The rest of whatever Sam meant to say was lost when their lips crashed together again because their minds were blank, the only thoughts were about how soft their lips were. How their kisses tasted, how much Sebastian needed to kiss Sam again.
And again.
And again.
There was no hesitation now. No soft testing of boundaries. Sebastian kissed him like he’d been holding his breath for years and had finally remembered how to breathe. His hands came up automatically, gripping the front of Sam’s jacket, fingers fisting in damp fabric. Sam made a startled noise into the kiss, then melted into it, laughing breathlessly against Sebastian’s mouth as he kissed him back just as hard.
Sebastian shivered when he felt Sam’s hand on his hip, gasping against Sam’s lips and Sam whimpered, entirely overwhelmed and confused and happy…
Sam’s foot slipped on the wet stone at the edge of the pond, his balance going sideways all at once. “Whoa—!” he yelped, instinctively grabbing Sebastian.
Which only made it worse.
They went down together in a spectacular, undignified tangle of limbs, stumbling backward with a splash loud enough to send ripples tearing across the pond. Sebastian landed on top of Sam with an undignified yelp, the shock of the icy pond stealing the air from his lungs as water soaked through his clothes in an instant. Sam went under with a sputtered laugh, instinctively wrapping his arms around Sebastian to keep them both upright as they resurfaced, drenched and breathless.
“Oh—shit—!” Sam choked, shock freezing him for half a second.
For a split second, they just stared at each other.
Then Sam burst out laughing.
It ripped out of him, loud and helpless, echoing off the water and the rocks as the cold finally gave way to adrenaline. He tipped his head back, rain and pond water dripping from his hair, chest shaking as he laughed like he hadn’t in years.
Sebastian blinked, stunned for a moment.Then he was laughing too.
It started as a breathless huff, then dissolved into real laughter, the kind that made his shoulders shake and his face hurt. They were soaked and freezing, Sebastian’s hoodie plastered to him, Sam’s jacket heavy with water, and somehow it was perfect.
A frog jumped off of Sam’s head, plopping into the water.
Sebastian laughed until his shoulders shook, until his head dropped forward against Sam’s chest, until the tension drained out of him completely. Their laughter tangled together, warm and unguarded.
They stayed like that for a moment, processing what had just happened. Sebastian was still straddling Sam in the shallow water, rain and pond water soaking them through, breath fogging faintly in the cool night air.
The full-bodied, breathless, slightly hysterical laughter that echoed across the pond and bounced off the rocks began to fade into quiet, breathless smiles. The cold soaked through his clothes, but once the initial shock passed, it just felt absurd. Perfectly, impossibly absurd. Sebastian shifted slightly, bracing his hands on either side of Sam’s shoulders, hovering there like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.
Sam looked up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
Sebastian lifted his head just enough to look at Sam, water dripping from his lashes. “I—” he started, then huffed a small, embarrassed laugh. He leaned in again, brushing their lips together, soft and lingering. He sighed softly against Sam’s mouth, the sound barely audible over the rain.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Sebastian murmured when they parted, lips still brushing Sam’s as he spoke. “The kiss. Not—” he huffed a breathy laugh, glancing down at the water around them, “—the cold water shock.”
Sam snorted, arms wrapping around Sebastian’s back, and he fit against him so perfectly that Sam’s heart ached. One hand slid up to the back of Sebastian’s head, fingers tangling gently in damp black hair. “Yeah,” he said, grinning. “Can’t say I’d planned that part either...”
Sam laughed again, warm and fond, sliding one hand up to the back of Sebastian’s head and tugging him closer.
Sebastian flushed instantly, pink blooming across his cheeks even in the low light. He ducked his head, embarrassed and smiling all at once. “We’re…we’re gonna freeze if we stay here,” he muttered, teeth just starting to chatter as the cold finally caught up to him.
“Good point,” Sam said, though he made no move to let go just yet. “Tragic end to a very promising first kiss otherwise.”
He sheepishly lowered his head and Sebastian snorted. “Tragic, no. Maybe uncomfortable…tragic if we get sick, though…”
They disentangled themselves with some effort, slipping and laughing quietly as Sam got them both upright. They clambered out of the pond with far less grace than either of them would’ve liked, shoes squelching, clothes dripping, laughter sneaking back in every time one of them nearly slipped again. Sam steadied Sebastian without thinking, their fingers tangling, and when Sebastian didn’t pull away, Sam laced their hands together fully.
They started toward Sebastian’s house, rain still falling, their joined hands swinging slightly between them. The path felt shorter than usual, or maybe Sam was just too aware of every step, every shared glance, every smile that crept up when their eyes met.
“We should…probably talk,” Sebastian said after a moment, voice quieter now.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed easily. “Definitely.”
A beat passed.
“But maybe after we’re dry,” Sam added. “And not hypothermic.”
Sebastian laughed softly. “Shower first, dry clothes, maybe some tea. Then we’ll worry about it.”
“Deal.”
At the front door, they kicked off their soaked shoes in a clumsy heap, laughing under their breath as water pooled on the front steps. Sebastian pushed the door open and leaned inside.
“Mom?” he called, voice echoing faintly down the hall. “We, uh—could we get some towels?”
Sam stood just behind him, still holding his hand, heart pounding, soaked to the bone and happier than he could remember being in a very long time.