Just Stay (23 page)

"Maybe," he says. "Just a bit."

He looks back at Seb.

"What, you mind?"

"God, no," Seb says. "If this is how you handle it, I'm good."

Evan smiles mischievously, leaning in and placing a lingering kiss on Seb's lips.

"I'll see you later," he says, touching Seb's stubbled cheek with his finger in a light stroke, and Seb nods.

"You go ahead," he says, still sounding exhausted. "I'll just... I'm gonna need a minute."

Evan smiles again, before unlocking the door and slipping out into the hallway. Seb locks the door behind him and lets out a deep, heavy breath, feeling immensely satisfied and strangely lethargic. He could get used to this.

♦

Hours later, Seb is sitting in his dorm room, staring at his phone. He's holding it in his hand, screen staring up at him from his palm, and he swallows. He has dialed this number over and over for the past hour or so, trying to pluck up the courage he needs to actually call. And now, finally, he has managed.

He lets out a deep breath, before pressing the call icon and lifting the cell phone to his ear. It only rings four times, before his mother picks up.

"Hello?" she says, and Seb looks up at the ceiling.

"Hi, mom," he says, and he can practically sense her smiling.

"Sebastian," she says, the smile seeping into her voice. "So nice to hear from you. How are you?"

"I'm good," Seb says, nodding to himself. "Working hard, and all that. How are you and dad? How's home?"

"Oh, it's fine," Eleanor says. "Dad's fine, he says hi. Angie and Mark have finally set a date, so that's nice."

Seb nods. Mark is his cousin, and he and his girlfriend Angie got engaged a few months ago, after dating for years. It's about damn time.

"That's good," Seb says. "When's the wedding?"

"In a few months," his mother says. "I don't remember the exact date. Why, you bringing someone?"

She says the last part with the kind of conspiring tone that mothers everywhere seem to have perfected, and Seb swallows.

"Um," he says, hesitating. Then he closes his eyes, exhaling. He might as well get this over with. "Actually, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something like that."

"Really?" his mother says. "You're not engaged, are you?"

"No," Seb says, opening his eyes and hinting a small smile that she can't see. "No, I just... I need to tell you something."

"Alright," his mom says. "Tell me."

And Seb realizes that he doesn't want to. But he has to. He has to tell her, has to explain. If nothing else, for Evan's sake; he owes him that, especially after the way he faced his fears concerning Seb and their relationship. And he doesn't want Evan to be his secret, any more than he wants to be Evan's.

"Remember when we talked, a while back?" Seb finally says, glad that his mother can't see him. "And you asked me about a girl?"

His mother makes a sound of confirmation.

"Yeah, I remember," she says, and Seb swallows.

"Well, you were right," he says. "And not."

Eleanor doesn't answer him right away, probably thinking.

"What do you mean?" she eventually says.

"I mean, it's not exactly a girl." Seb tries to find a good way of putting it, struggling. "At all."

Again, his mother doesn't say anything for a few moments.

"Then," she finally says, slowly, as though still confused. "What―"

"His name is Evan," Seb interrupts her, blurting it out.

Well, fuck, that wasn't how I planned it.
But it's too late now.

Eleanor just responds with silence for several seconds, as though trying to think of any other explanation or interpretation of what Seb just said. But there is none.

"Oh," she eventually says, and Seb can practically sense her stiffen slightly, her voice a bit off. "So... A boy..."

"Evan," Seb says. "Yeah."

She makes a
hmm
sound.

"He's..."

"My boyfriend." The word still feels weird to say. Seb isn't even sure he has said it out loud before. But it feels right.

His mother's silence makes him a bit uncomfortable, though.

"Mom?" he asks.

"Alright," she finally says, still sounding a bit off. She seems determined not to freak out. But she clearly isn't completely comfortable with the idea of what Seb is telling her, either. "Okay."

Seb just waits.

"Okay?" he says, raising his eyebrows the slightest bit, even though she can't see him.

"Yeah," she says, in a way that makes him think she's nodding. It's something about the edge to her voice, and he gets the impression that she's nodding a bit too much, in his opinion. "Okay."

Seb feels a slight wave of relief. Maybe he was worried for no reason. Maybe his mom will be okay with this whole thing. He isn't entirely sure about his dad, but that's another matter for another time.

"Good," he says, exhaling with relief. He wasn't quite aware of how tense he'd been up until now, and he relaxes his shoulders slightly. Maybe this is going to be okay.

"I mean, it's college, right?" his mother says. "Nothing's off-limits."

And there it is.

Seb is sure she meant to sound understanding and relaxed about it, but all her words do is make him tense up again. Only, this time, his anxiety is replaced by annoyance.

"And here we go," he mutters.

"What?" his mother says. "I'm just saying that I get it."

"No," Seb says, shaking his head. "You really don't."

"Sebastian―"

"Jesus, mom." He puts his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. "Would it kill you to take things seriously for just a minute?"

Eleanor just seems stunned at that.

"I do," she says. "I am. But sweetie, I've been to college too. I know what it's like."

"I'm sure you do," Seb says dryly, trying not to think about his mother being in college and doing whatever one is supposed to be doing in college. "But that doesn't mean you automatically get it."

"Look," she says, diplomatically. "I'm sure you feel that you like this boy―"

Seb just looks up at the ceiling and lets out a frustrated, annoyed moan that makes him sound an awful lot like a seventeen-year-old. He can't help it, though. This is his mother, and it's impossible not to fall back into old habits. Even if he feels a bit embarrassed at himself.

"Don't do that, Sebastian," Eleanor snaps, and Seb just looks straight ahead.

"What?" he says. His voice is flat, with just a hint of his trademark sarcasm. "Belittle your argument? Make you feel like I'm not taking you seriously?"

He tilts his head, kind of wishing she
could
see him now, to get the full effect.

"Gee, I wonder what that feels like."

Eleanor sighs; he can imagine her pursing her lips.

"You're young," she says. "And you've always been very passionate. But―"

"Mom," Seb says calmly, and she falls silent. "Let me ask you something."

He takes a deep breath, and takes her silence as permission.

"If it
were
a girl," he says. "If I
had
met a girl. Would you still be saying this to me?"

His mother doesn't answer him, but he can tell from the feeling of her silence that no, she wouldn't.

"I know you like to think that I'm full of ideas that aren't the best," Seb continues. "I know that even though you support me in wanting to be a writer, you deep down think that I'll eventually snap out of it and do something else, and that's the only reason you haven't talked me out of it."

Seb looks down, looking for the right words.

"And I know you think I'm just crushing on some guy for the fun of it," he says. "And no, this hasn't ever happened before."

He looks up again, at nothing.

"But I love him," he says, shocked at his own honesty. He has never admitted that to anyone before, to anyone but Evan, barely even to himself. And he realizes that he really does feel that way, unquestionably.

He's also shocked at just how well he's putting all of this, without getting angry or yelling at his mother.

"And I know you want me to be happy," he says. "And he makes me happy."

His mother doesn't reply for several seconds. Instead, she waits, thoughts and responses clearly moving through her mind. It's as though she wants to contradict her son, wants to talk him out of it, tell him that it's just a phase and that it will pass. And maybe she really does think all those things. But something in the way Seb is talking about it, perhaps, stops her from saying any of it out loud.

"You love him?" she says instead, her voice weak and a bit wary. Seb nods to himself.

"Very much," he says. He didn't mean to add that, but it's true. Eleanor seems to hesitate for a moment.

"And he loves you?" she asks, and Seb nods again. "And he makes you happy?"

"He does."

Eleanor takes a deep breath.

"Then, I guess I'm happy, too," she finally says, and Seb feels an almost irrational relief and joy in his chest. His mother exhales into the phone, and Seb can tell that she's struggling not to contradict him. But this is good enough.

"Thank you," he says, and his mother makes a sound of confirmation. She deliberates for a moment.

"Is he handsome?" she asks, in an attempt to lighten the mood, and Seb smiles, actually blushing a bit.

"He is," he says, knowing she can hear his smile. "He really is. Out of my league."

His mother laughs softly, kindly, and Seb knows that if she had been with him right now, she would have ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek.

"No one is out of my son's league."

"Seb." Evan's voice is soft, and just as the one word reaches Seb's ear, those lips brush against his cheekbone. "Wake up, baby."

Seb blinks tiredly, disoriented for a moment. Then he glances up and sees Evan's face, smiling down at him, those crinkles ever-present around his eyes.

"This is getting out of hand, dude," he says, straightening. He's standing beside Seb, who lifts his head to look around. He's sitting in the chair by his desk; he  actually fell asleep with his head against the surface beside his laptop, and he blinks to clear his blurry, sleep-drunk vision.

"What time is it?" he slurs, slowly sitting up properly, and Evan chuckles.

"Not nearly late enough to justify falling asleep like that," he says, and Seb looks up at him. Then Evan's smile widens.

"What?" Seb says, frowning, and Evan shakes his head, actually laughing. The laughter is laced with unyielding affection.

"You got a little something there," he says, reaching down to Seb's face. Seb barely has time to react, before Evan plucks something that has gotten stuck to his cheek, and hands it to Seb. Seb frowns at it; it's a yellow post-it note, with a few scribbled page numbers on it. And he groans tiredly. He remembers writing this down earlier, going through his notes and making sure he knew where to find everything he needed in his books.

"Awesome," he mutters, putting the post-it down on the desk. Then he looks up at Evan again, and they just stare at each other for a few moments, before Evan takes his hand and pulls him to his feet.

"Really?" Seb says crankily. "I just woke up, man."

Evan doesn't answer him. Instead, he just pulls him closer as he stands, and looks at him, pushing back dark hair that has fallen over his forehead. Seb always loves it when he does that. It makes him feel so safe and loved, in some weird way. Evan smiles.

"You're adorable," he says, and Seb narrows his eyes at him.

"Thanks," he says sarcastically. "Because every guy wants to be called
adorable
."

"You called me
romantic
," Evan says, cocking his eyebrows. "It's only fair."

Seb rolls his eyes.

"Fine," he says, giving in. "I guess."

Evan chuckles, and kisses him on the mouth, pulling his fingers softly through his hair, making Seb's knees buckle. Evan always has a way of kissing him, like it's the first and last time, softly and urgently, all at once.

"Come on, sleepyface," Evan says when they part, lacing his fingers with Seb's. He pulls him along over to the bed, where they both lie down and fit together like puzzle pieces, Seb placing his head against Evan's chest, closing his eyes for a moment.

"You ever think that maybe we should do something else, besides just lying in bed all the time?" he says, and Evan makes a small
meh
sound.

"Maybe," he admits. "But I like this, so I can't see why we should."

Seb smiles.

"You make a valid point, my good sir," he says, and Evan's chuckle rumbles through his chest. "And it's not like we just lie here, anyway. Not all the time."

"Now, that's true," Evan says, and Seb can imagine him cocking his eyebrows suggestively. "And the stuff we do, I like as well."

Seb rolls his eyes.

"Are you rolling your eyes at me?" Evan says, and Seb glances up at him.

"You're creeping me out, dude," he says, but can't help but smile to himself, as Evan smiles at him. He settles his head against his chest again.

"I talked to my mom," he says after a moment.

"Really?" Evan says. "About what?"

Seb frowns.

"About the weather," he says dryly. "The stock market, the new British royal baby. What do you think, asshole?"

Evan laughs. It's amazing, really, how often they sound like they insult each other, when it's really nothing but sweet talk.

"I told her about you," Seb says. "About us."

Evan hesitates, waiting.

"And?" he finally says, sounding a bit tense. Seb exhales.

"And," he said, "
okay
."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Seb half-shrugs. "I don't think she's completely wrapped her head around it, but she said
okay
. And she seems to still call me her son, so that's nice."

"That's good," Evan says, his tone half-serious and half-joking. Seb doesn't mention Evan's father, or anything about maybe telling him; that's a different matter, and one that will be dealt with in time, when Evan feels ready. He isn't about to push him into anything.