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Even from where he stands at the end of the aisle, Chris knows it’s Sebastian; long, toned, legs clad in black, skinny jeans, black leather jacket on his shoulders, too worn and thin for such cold weather. A picture that Chris keeps stored in his head, to be pulled out of the deepest drawer of his mind on especially lonely nights. He’d never expected to see Sebastian again, much less here, at the old neighborhood grocery store, wedged into one of the standing freezers, gathering cans of concentrated orange juice.
How long has it been since they’ve spoken? Six years now? More? He tries not to think about it too often; it hurts far too much. From his spot next to the ice cream, Chris debates whether or not to approach the man he had once loved. Fuck, who is he trying to kid? Still loves, still misses and aches for in his empty apartment, his empty bed, his empty life. He looks over to the rocky road - it stares back, stubbornly silent, offering no help.
Ahead of him, Sebastian backs out of the freezer, one bright, orange can clutched in each hand. He’s biting his bottom lip, chewing on it absentmindedly as he tries to make a decision. The habit is so familiar, so endearing, and suddenly, Chris knows there is no way he can watch Sebastian walk out of his life again without at least speaking to him. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, maybe the universe is giving him a gift.
His shoes make squeaking noises as he walks forward, until he is standing directly behind his old lover. Chris’ hand trembles, reaching out to touch Sebastian on the sleeve. He tries to speak, to say something, anything. I’ve missed you, I love you, I need you, still. But all that comes out is a weak croak. “Sebastian?”
Sebastian’s head whips around, and suddenly Chris is staring into a set of wide, grey-blue eyes, familiar, faint, dark circles ringing them. And oh god, Sebastian is just staring at him, doesn’t know him. Big mistake, Evans, he thinks to himself, and just about to apologize and beat a hasty retreat. But then Sebastian’s eyes light up, going wide and surprised, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking, pleased.
“Shit, Chris?”
Not trusting his voice, Chris nods dumbly.
Full, red lips curve into a joyous smile before Sebastian lurches forward, set to embrace Chris. The cans come tumbling out of his over anxious hands, narrowly missing Chris’ foot.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, and still uncoordinated, obviously.” They both bend down to pick up the cans at the same moment, almost bumping their heads together. Chris pulls back slightly at the last second, and when they stand back up, he laughs fondly. That gets Sebastian to laugh too, and some of the awkwardness of the encounter slips away.
“It’s good to see you, Seb.”
Sebastian smiles, that shy, disbelieving smile that has always made Chris’ heart stutter in his chest. “You too, Chris.”
They both stand there, staring at one another, in the middle of the frozen food aisle, until a middle aged woman clears her throat behind them. She looks like she’s in a hurry, and Chris, ever the gentleman, apologizes profusely, moves out of the way, and holds the freezer door for her.
He looks up then, and catches Sebastian looking at him, eyes soft and fond, and oh god, Chris is still so in love with this man. Hello Sebastian Stan, goodbye heart.
When the woman is finished selecting her items, she thanks Chris, looks at them looking at each other, and smiles indulgently. She pats his arm as she walks away, eyes flicking almost imperceptibly to Sebastian, a silent go for it written clearly on her face.
She leaves them as she found them, their longing unfolding in plain view of the Marie Callender’s pies. Somehow, he finds the courage, pulls it out of some heretofore undiscovered well inside himself, and asks, “Would you like to go somewhere? With me, I mean. Just get out of here and maybe catch up?”
And it’s not such a simple question. It’s a heavy one, loaded with so much emotion, so much want and need. Do you want to reopen old wounds with me?
It’s Christmas Eve, Sebastian probably has a million things to do, people to get home to, why would he ever agree? Chris is pleased then, more than pleased, he’s fucking ecstatic, over the goddamn moon, when Sebastian’s face breaks into a grin, eyes going unbelievably wide like they do whenever he is genuinely happy.
“Yes, of course. I’d love to.”
The conversation is awkward and stilted while Sebastian pays for his few items. Chris watches the younger man swipe his card, watches long, elegant fingers stab at the keypad, wishes he could reach out and grasp them in his own large, clumsy hands.
They decide to take Sebastian’s car, since it’s closer to the exit. It’s cold outside, and the two men walk as swiftly as they can in the lightly falling snow. Taking care where he steps so as not to make a fool of himself and fall on his ass, Chris resolutely does not look at his old flame, who has always been distracting in the most perfect of ways.
The younger man makes a few circuits of the neighborhood bars, but they all look far too crowded to be suitable locations for a pair of old lovers to reminisce. No one wants to be alone tonight, Chris thinks.
“How about sharing a six pack in the car, then?” If Chris didn’t know better, he would think Seb’s voice sounds hopeful.
“Yeah, sure. Kinda like old times, then.”
Sebastian gives him a strained smile, and circles back to the little shop they’d come from, and leaves Chris sitting in the car while he runs inside to grab the beer. The wait is excruciating, and more than once, Chris thinks about getting out of the car and making a quick escape.
Once the younger man is back inside the car though, Chris can’t help but look at him, watches Sebastian reach up and brush stray snowflakes from his dark hair. A few have melted on his face, tiny droplets that glimmer on his cheek. Chris reaches out without thinking to brush them away, and Sebastian catches his breath. Reverentially, Chris strokes his thumb over Sebastian’s cheekbone, slightly more prominent now than when they had been together, and Sebastian had still had some of softness of youth to his features.
A car alarm chirping down the row snaps the moment, and Sebastian laughs nervously, reaches into the bag on his lap and pulls out his purchase. A six pack of beer. Three cans each. Chris has only got Sebastian until the beers are empty, and then he has to let him go. There’s not much space between them in the front seat of Seb’s car, but just then it feels like an impassable, yawning, gulf. Years of emptiness that neither one of them is sure how bridge.
Chris takes the proffered can, cracks it open while Sebastian does the same. The car is cold; their breaths cause little puffy clouds to form in front of their faces. Sebastian’s smile looks hesitant when he raises his can, tilts it in Chris’ direction, and says softly, “To younger days.”
“Younger days,” Chris echoes. To the past. To what could have been. It feels too much like toasting the death of hope, and the beer tastes sour in his mouth. He hopes Seb doesn’t notice his grimace.
“Nice car,” Chris tries lamely. Nice car? Chris, you fucking meatball! He knows something of his mortification must show on his face, because Sebastian shakes his head fondly and smiles.
“Yeah, thanks. Margo helped me pick it out right after we got married.”
Chris has to swallow down the bile rising in his throat at the mention of Margarita. He’s heard the rumor of course, about the two of them and their relationship. But he’s always treated it as just that, a rumor. Like if he doesn’t see it for his own eyes, or hear it from Seb’s own lips, it isn’t true. And since the two men stopped travelling in the same social circles after the breakup, it’s been all too easy to indulge in the illusion.
So it’s like the shattering of a dream when he forces himself to say the words. It causes him a physical pain in his chest, but he can’t not.
“So, you and Margarita, huh? Married?”
At least Seb has the good grace to look away when he answers. “Yes, we got married.” Red lips purse, and that square jaw tightens, as if he wants to say more but thinks he shouldn’t. Chris can’t look at him anymore, turns his attention to the gentle snow falling outside the window.
“Are you two happy?”
After what seems like an eternity, Seb says very quietly, “It didn’t last.”
And God, what kind of a horrible person is he that he is relieved to hear someone’s marriage has fallen apart? “I’m sorry,” he answers automatically, knowing full well he’s not.
“Don’t be. It was for the best. Margo was there for me, picked up the pieces when they got broken.”
“You know we’d been friends for a long time. She was a light for me when it was dark, and I think I just latched onto her brightness. And I did love her, still love her. But, I was never in love with her.”
Somewhere in the back of his addled brain, Chris thinks he should respond to that in some way. But he’s still reeling from the revelations. Married. Not married. Never in love with her.
“-stayed friends, you know? She always knew where my heart was.”
With me? Like mine’s been with you? Instead, he takes Seb’s empty can and drops it on the floorboard, along with his own. Avoids looking at his former lover. He pulls the next two cans out, opens them and hands one over. “To growing up.”
Sebastian laughs. “To being adults. Successful ones.”
Chris is confused for three seconds, before Seb continues. “I read the books. They’re amazing.”
“Oh, that.” Chris had finally finished the first book right after becoming newly single. A sci-fi space opera. Two young men who fall in love and are happy, until a war separates them, places them on opposite sides of a political and social divide. He never could have predicted how well received it would become. ‘The first novel of its kind to take the mainstream by storm.’ A critical and financial success.
The sequel had come out shortly after, to equal praise, and Chris was currently working on the conclusion. Universal Pictures had leased the rights from him, and he’d been hired on as a consultant to ensure the film remained true to his vision. Some superhero actor or other was already in talks for the main role.
A warm hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and Chris looks up shyly. “Hey, no, don’t do that. Fuck, Chris, it’s what you’ve always wanted. You should be proud of that.”
“Heh, yeah. Proud.” Of what? Letting go of the best thing that ever happened to him? Channeling all his energy into his work, when he should have spent it making sure the man beside him never had reason to doubt his importance in Chris’ life? Being too stupid and stubborn to say he was sorry? To beg Seb to stay?
Sebastian’s smile is sly and teasing. “I saw you on tv, on GMA. Must be one glamorous ride.”
Chris laughs out loud, and the atmosphere lightens a little. “The talk show circuit’s been an experience, I’ll give it that. Meeting the fans though, the people the story has touched. It’s been amazing. Sometimes, I don’t feel deserving…” He drops his now empty can and reaches for another, popping the top and drinking slowly.
Then he smiles widely. “I hear you’re doing pretty well for yourself, too, though. Two successful runs on Broadway? Your first Tony nom? Damn son,” Chris finishes with an exaggerated whistle. Honestly, he'd been so proud of Seb when he'd read the announcement, albeit a little sad that he couldn't be there to share the moment. Best Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play. And in only his second show no less.
The corners of Sebastian’s eyes crinkle slightly, and he looks so beautiful, pale skin, wintery eyes, and red lips, and Chris can’t help himself. “You look good, Seb. Just as gorgeous as I remembered you. Maybe more.”
A blush spreads across the younger man’s cheeks, and he runs a hand through his dark locks with a smile. The same one from all those years ago, wide and wondering. Wanting to believe but never sure. As though anyone could ever look at Sebastian and be anything other than completely besotted?
“I, um, ok. Thanks. You too, Chris. The beard’s a nice addition.”
They both laugh, and drink some more. And then, “We were good together, weren’t we?”
“Yeah, Seb, we were.” Chris looks at the floor, trying desperately to think of something else to say, but comes up empty. Like the can in his hand. Spent, finished. He feels like a man preparing to go in front of the firing squad, knowing the time’s up, no longer able to pretend everything’s fine. Because it’s not. It never will be again.
Beside him, Sebastian clears his throat. Still, the younger man’s voice is shaky and his eyes are shining when he tosses his empty can aside. “Well, I guess we should get going now. Thanks for suggesting the drink.”
“Yeah, sure. This was good.” Chris wonders if his voice sounds as broken as his heart felt. Still he’d do the same thing every time, in any universe. One more chance to see the love of his life? Yes, always, yes. And to hell with it, if Chris is going to crash and burn, at least it’ll be glorious.
He leans forward, slips his hand around Sebastian’s neck, and kisses the lips he’s been missing for the last time. And Sebastian’s kissing him back, a soft, sweet moan escaping the younger man and making Chris shiver. And it’s so fucking good, Chris knows he’ll never forget this moment, will treasure it forever, his own private little Christmas miracle.
A few seconds later, he pulls away, eyes closed, pressing their foreheads together. “Goodbye, Sebastian.” Reaching behind himself, he yanks on the door handle and stumbles out of the car without another word. Slams the door more forcefully than he’d meant to.
The two of them stare at each other through the foggy glass that might as well be the gateway to another world, until Seb starts engine. Sometime in the last few minutes, the snow has turned to cold, stinging rain. Chris turns away then, determined not to let Sebastian see his tears fall, even though he knows they’ll mingle with the drops falling on his face from the sky. He hears the car begin to pull away, and suddenly he’s young again, and listening to Sebastian driving away from their shared apartment, backseat laden with all his earthly possessions, key to the front door sitting forlornly on the kitchen counter.
His own vehicle is only a short walk away, but each step towards it is heavy, like slogging through ankle deep mud. The raindrops that catch on his eyelashes blur his vision more than the tears, and he’s breathing hard in a way that has nothing to do with the exertion of the walk, and everything to do with the heartache in his chest.
Chris is almost to his car; he’s already unlocked the door and is grateful he’ll be out of the rain any second when he hears another vehicle speeding into the lot, towards him. The sound of tires slipping a bit on the slushy pavement is close, and for one frantic second, he’s afraid the driver is going to hit him, run him over right here on Christmas Eve. At least he’s going to take the taste of Sebastian’s lips with him when he goes.
When he looks up, Chris sees not some faceless, maniac driver, but Sebastian, car coming to an abrupt halt a few feet away. Time stands still around them; Chris can no longer feel the cold, or the rain. He watches as the driver’s side door opens, and Sebastian steps out, gorgeous legs unfolding , carrying the man forward until he’s standing right in front of Chris, close enough to touch.
“Couldn’t let myself drive away from you again. Not without saying it first.”
The words come out before he even knows he’s going to say them. “I love you, Seb. I fucking love you, and not a day goes by that I haven’t missed you in some way. My books, they’re about us. Having everything, and losing it. I don’t wanna lose you again.”
Sebastian is laughing, or crying, or maybe something in between. His grey eyes are sparkling and so goddamn happy, and Chris is the man who put that joy there. He also knows he’s the one who put the earlier hurt there, too. He’ll spend the rest of his fucking life making up for that, he vows to himself. If Sebastian will only have him.
“I love you, too, Evans. Always.” Sebastian closes the distance and drags Chris into a searing, blistering kiss.
Neither one of them is sure how long they stand their, lips locked, Chris fingers tangling into the slightly shorter man’s thick hair. When they finally stop to breathe, Seb is smiling against Chris’ mouth.
“Can I take you home?” Chris whispers roughly.
“I’m already there.”
As he kisses Sebastian once more, Chris knows it’s true.