‹ Prequel: Paramus
Sequel: Rough Waters ›
Moving Forward
Sebastian
Sebastian was never particularly close to his family. The Smythes were a distant bunch, and that suited Sebastian just fine because he was distant, too. Well, normally he was distant… Lately, a lot of his usual walls had been damaged.
Paramus had him thinking about a lot of stuff. Stuff he might normally not have bothered to unpack. For one thing, he found himself thinking about his family. They had either found a way to flee or had hid themselves in one giant property or another, or they were all dead. He saw no other alternatives. Either way, he somewhat doubted he’d see them again. And that… hurt? Maybe not as much as it should have, as much as it would have if the Smythes were a different kind of people, but it still did. He couldn’t help but wonder if they thought of him at all, worried about him even. It gave him an odd aching, twisty feeling in his chest, and he didn’t really know how to deal with it.
Then, there was the fact that he’d somehow allowed himself to catch feelings. He’d let Elliott Gilbert in, and now things were starting to get messy and emotional. Why had he done that? He never did that! Regardless… he had, and he couldn’t exactly undo that.
So, he found himself torn up inside as he watched the other man suffer and struggle with his grief. And it wasn’t like he’d never felt empathy for anyone before, but this was some next level shit. God, if he could just… What? What could he even do?
He did all he knew to do. He stayed up with his friend when he could. He talked to him when he needed it, and on one occasion, he had even held him while he cried. Sebastian Smythe had been a fucking shoulder to cry on! He had never been that guy for anyone before, and yet now, here he was. And he knew he was well and truly fucked emotionally because he would do it again if Elliott needed him to!
He didn’t know what, if anything, he needed to do about the whole feelings situation. Maybe they’d go away eventually. Maybe if they fucked, or maybe if he fucked someone else… (It had been so long since he’d last had sex, too long! But that was another subject...or maybe it was, maybe it was related, whatever.) Or maybe, God forbid, they’d have to talk about it at some point. What if Elliott had some sort of similar feelings of his own? Ugh. The way his insides fluttered at the thought of that was gross. What was happening to him?
He shook his head. Now was not the time for that, any of that. And so, carefully, he boxed all of it back up and put it back into storage, right next to the box labelled “familial concerns”. Maybe it would all stay there unpacked.
Or maybe at some point, Elliott would drag it all out of him. Who the hell knew at this point?
Paramus had him thinking about a lot of stuff. Stuff he might normally not have bothered to unpack. For one thing, he found himself thinking about his family. They had either found a way to flee or had hid themselves in one giant property or another, or they were all dead. He saw no other alternatives. Either way, he somewhat doubted he’d see them again. And that… hurt? Maybe not as much as it should have, as much as it would have if the Smythes were a different kind of people, but it still did. He couldn’t help but wonder if they thought of him at all, worried about him even. It gave him an odd aching, twisty feeling in his chest, and he didn’t really know how to deal with it.
Then, there was the fact that he’d somehow allowed himself to catch feelings. He’d let Elliott Gilbert in, and now things were starting to get messy and emotional. Why had he done that? He never did that! Regardless… he had, and he couldn’t exactly undo that.
So, he found himself torn up inside as he watched the other man suffer and struggle with his grief. And it wasn’t like he’d never felt empathy for anyone before, but this was some next level shit. God, if he could just… What? What could he even do?
He did all he knew to do. He stayed up with his friend when he could. He talked to him when he needed it, and on one occasion, he had even held him while he cried. Sebastian Smythe had been a fucking shoulder to cry on! He had never been that guy for anyone before, and yet now, here he was. And he knew he was well and truly fucked emotionally because he would do it again if Elliott needed him to!
He didn’t know what, if anything, he needed to do about the whole feelings situation. Maybe they’d go away eventually. Maybe if they fucked, or maybe if he fucked someone else… (It had been so long since he’d last had sex, too long! But that was another subject...or maybe it was, maybe it was related, whatever.) Or maybe, God forbid, they’d have to talk about it at some point. What if Elliott had some sort of similar feelings of his own? Ugh. The way his insides fluttered at the thought of that was gross. What was happening to him?
He shook his head. Now was not the time for that, any of that. And so, carefully, he boxed all of it back up and put it back into storage, right next to the box labelled “familial concerns”. Maybe it would all stay there unpacked.
Or maybe at some point, Elliott would drag it all out of him. Who the hell knew at this point?