Just Stay (6 page)

"You wanna hang out?" Evan finally asks, and Seb looks up at the odd tone in his voice. He sounds confident, cocky even. He sounds like Evan. But there is something else there, too, something he can't quite put his finger on.

"Sure, I―" he starts, but then cuts himself off. He sighs heavily.

"Shit," he says. "I can't. I've got a paper due, Friday."

The amount of sheer disappointment he feels is overwhelming―not to mention shocking. It's shocking, how badly he suddenly wants to just blow everything off and hang out with Evan. But most shocking of all, is Evan's reaction.

"Oh," he says, an overly carefree expression on his face, one that thinly veils something that looks an awful lot like... is that
shyness
? Disappointment?
Nervousness,
even?

No
, Seb immediately thinks, shaking it off. Not Evan. Evan doesn't get
shy
. He doesn't get
nervous
. And Seb seriously doubts that he's even nearly as disappointed as Seb at missing out on spending time together.

"I get it," Evan says, nodding. "Working hard, and all that. Some other time, then."

Seb watches Evan as he turns away and directs his eyes straight ahead, watches that profile, that hair, those freckles, those lips... It's unbelievable how appealing it all suddenly looks. He chews his bottom lip, thinking, oddly terrified.

"But after Friday," he hears himself say. "I mean, Friday night. Or something. Maybe."

Evan looks at him, his expression unreadable, and Seb elaborates, already worried that he has said something too weird or just
too much
.

"Paper's due Friday," he says. "So I'll have the rest of Friday off."

And then, unbelievably, Evan smiles. And it's the weirdest thing.

Seb has seen Evan smile so many times by now―he seems to just be the kind of person who generally smiles. Seb has seen the half-smiles, the cocky grins, the joking smiles, the one where Evan just quirks the corner of his mouth. And best of all, the crooked smile, the one Seb barely ever sees him use, because he only seems to use it when he's genuinely happy or impressed.

But this one―this smile is new, and it makes Evan's face look oddly soft and kind, giving it all a kind of innocence about it, those crinkles showing when the smile reaches his eyes. Seb is too stunned to even smile back.

"Sounds good," Evan says, and Seb swallows.

"Good," he replies lamely, and Evan looks at him for another moment, before chuckling.

"Alright," he says, moving to get up. "You work hard, and I'll see you then."

Seb nods as Evan gets up and turns to him. He seems to hesitate for a moment, before he puts his hand on Seb's shoulder and squeezes it gently.

"Have fun," he says, replacing the new smile with the cocky one, and Seb laughs humorlessly as Evan lets go of his shoulder.

"I'll try," he says, and Evan winks at him, before walking away. And Seb just sits there for a moment, staring into space. Then, he finally reanimates and gathers up his things, getting up from the bench, putting on his headphones as he goes. There is an unfamiliar lightness to his steps as he turns the music back on, making his way home.

♦

Seb is efficient. When it comes to studying, writing, creating, he has pretty much always been efficient. He isn't sure how much of that has to do with talent, and how much has to do with his pretty much lifelong, general lack of friends, but it doesn't really matter. What matters is that it's something he is good at.

This time around, it's different. He isn't being
in
efficient or anything, but he is erratic. On one occasion, he'll get a whole portion of the paper together, suddenly very motivated, and on another, he'll just sit there, completely unable to focus. And he doesn't even have to wonder why this is happening.

Evan. It's all his fault. It's all
Evan
.

When they talked briefly on that bench, Friday was two days away, and Seb realizes that he's rather happy about seeing Evan tomorrow―he is deliberately avoiding the word
excited
. He's looking forward to it, more than he wants to admit, and one minute, this will spur him to work harder and get his paper done faster, and the next, it will distract him so much that he can't get anything done. Basically.

But despite it all, Seb is good at this, so when Thursday night comes along, he's about 95% finished with the whole assignment, and he rubs his eyes as he sits at his desk. He glances at the clock on his wall; it's almost eleven p.m. Good thing he has a late afternoon lecture tomorrow, when he's going to hand in the paper. At least he'll get to sleep properly. As long as he doesn't get too distracted again, that is.

Said distraction comes only moments later, with a knock on the door.

It's Sophie, and Seb finds himself almost frowning, like he so often does, when he opens the door. Especially seeing as how he has only ever spoken to Sophie once, and she has never come over here before.

"Hi." She smiles, her entire face and being radiating kindness. It's unbelievable really, how some people pull that off so well.
She and Jake really are perfect for each other,
Seb thinks to himself. "I was hoping you might be up."

Seb rubs his eyes as he leans slightly against the open door. He's more tired than he realized, and the light in the hallway is harsh compared to the dimness of his room.

"I'm up," he says, smiling weakly, pulling his fingers through his messed-up hair, and Sophie seems relieved.

"Good," she says. "I just need a favor. I'm at Jake's, and the remote died."

Seb then notices that she is indeed holding a remote control for a TV, and he raises his eyebrows at her. She rolls her eyes self-consciously, still smiling.

"Don't judge," she says, a trace of a laugh in her voice. "It's movie night. And it's hard to cuddle up properly when you have to get up and fix the volume all the time."

She looks at Seb pointedly with a pleading expression, wiggling the remote in front of her.

"You don't happen to have any batteries, do you?" she asks sweetly, with a tone that says she knows how weird the request is. But Seb just scoffs, with a smile.

"I'll check," he says, making his way back into his room. He knows there should be a pack of batteries lying around, and he has to dig through only two desk drawers before he finds it. He takes out two batteries and closes the drawer, before walking over to Sophie, who's patiently waiting in the doorway. He hands them to her.

"Great," she says, with a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

"No problem," Seb says, and she turns to leave. But then, she stops. She seems to deliberate for a moment, before hesitantly turning back to him.

"You're Evan's friend, right?" she asks softly, as though worried he might say no, and Seb blinks at the unexpected question.

"Yeah," he says, actually kind of stunned that this is the first time he has confirmed that out loud. "I'd say I am. Why?"

Sophie worries at her bottom lip for a moment.

"That's good," she finally says, sincere thoughtfulness written on her face. "He needs more friends like you."

Seb doesn't know what to say to that. So instead, he just gives Sophie a weak smile as she smiles at him, before she leaves and makes her way down the hall to Jake's room. Seb slowly closes the door behind her.

Yeah
, he thinks.
I'm his friend.

♦

Seb would say that he's uncharacteristically nervous, as he knocks on the door, but that wouldn't be entirely true. Nervousness really is part of his character, after all.

But he still finds himself fidgeting a bit, pulling on his black, deliberately washed out t-shirt that has the vaguest outline of Darth Vader on the front. Smoothing down his hair unnecessarily, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans because he suddenly doesn't know where else to put them.

Yeah, not out of character at all.

It's Friday,
finally
, and Seb has just come straight from his lecture. Evan texted him where he lives, and now, Seb is standing in the hallway of his dorm, right outside his door. The building looks pretty much the same as the one where both Seb and Jake live, albeit with a slightly darker coat of paint on the walls. As if any of this is on Seb's mind right now, as he waits for something to happen, his knock lingering in the air.

It's only a matter of seconds, before the door is pulled open, and Seb finds himself taking a deep, steadying breath. And then there he is, Evan, smiling at him.

"You made it," he says, pulling Seb into a surprising hug. Seb isn't used to hugging so casually, so he's a bit taken aback for a moment. But it's worth it; Evan smells so good, warm and rough, with a hint of leather and some kind of spice. And it feels really good to hug him, to be hugged by him, his arms wrapped hard around Seb for just a moment.

"Was worried you might be lost," Evan says as he releases Seb, a jokingly patronizing look on his face, and he steps back so Seb can enter his room.

"Your confidence in my sense of direction is overwhelming," Seb mutters sarcastically, as he looks around the room. And he hears, with a weird sense of satisfaction, how Evan chuckles quietly as he closes the door.

The room is no bigger than Seb's, only a little less cluttered and with a different overall theme. Just like it's rather obvious from Seb's room that he is a writer, it's obvious from Evan's room that he is a musician.

There is an acoustic guitar standing against the wall, and another up on the wall, next to an electric guitar and what looks like a bass, an amplifier standing in the corner. There are guitar picks littered all over the place, and a desk that doesn't look nearly as cluttered as Seb's, and a modest bed in the corner. Somehow, it looks exactly like Seb would have imagined Evan's room to look. And it smells like him. Exactly like him, wrapping Seb up in a blanket of calm that he's barely even aware of.

"How'd it go?" Evan asks as he makes his way past Seb, who drops his messenger bag to the floor. Seb looks at him quizzically.

"The paper," Evan clarifies, and Seb feels the smallest sense of surprise that he remembers, and that it's the first thing he asks.

"Good," he says. "Hopefully. Just turned it in."

He lingers in that one spot for a moment, before hesitantly making his way across the room. There is a couch against the other wall, two-seated, and he vaguely wonders how it can fit in here. Then he remembers that in his own room, he has opted for a bookcase instead, as well as an armchair.

In lack of anything else, Seb slumps down on the couch, feeling too awkward about just standing there, and he glances over at Evan, who is standing by his desk. He's leaning over his laptop, apparently scrolling through his music selection, and Seb notices how music is indeed playing, but he didn't really pay attention to it before. Now that he does, he likes it. The volume is rather low, the tones rather mellow and subdued; perfect for playing in the background.

"Are all the guitars really necessary?" Seb finds himself asking, half-joking, and Evan looks up at him, straightening.

"Excuse you?" he says, eyebrows raised, as he starts making his way over to the couch. "Are all the
books
really necessary?"

Seb cocks his head.

"Touché," he says, and looks up at Evan as he nudges Seb's leg with his own, so he'll move. Seb scoots over on the couch and watches as Evan sits down next to him, his throat suddenly dry.

Why would he react this way? Why is the prospect of Evan sitting so close to him suddenly so terrifying and calming at the same time?

God,
he can still smell him; the scent of Evan is all over the couch, all over the room, and Evan himself, as he sits so close that Seb could touch him without barely even reaching. He swallows hard.

"Alright," he says, his voice not betraying his sudden nervousness. "Play."

Evan looks at him, before realizing what he means.

"What,
now
?" he asks, unconsciously mimicking Seb's words from days earlier, and Seb half-smiles.

"Yes," he says, falling back into the corner of the sofa, in a comfortable slouch. "Play me something."

Evan just looks at him for a few moments, before he scoffs, smiling.

"Fine," he says, getting up and picking up the acoustic guitar he's got leaning against the wall. "What do you want to hear?"

This time, he gives Seb a pointed look, well aware of how this conversation is turning into basically a replica of the one they had at Seb's place that time, and Seb smiles.

"You choose," he says, turning the mirror conversation in a new direction, and Evan pauses the music on his laptop before sitting down on the couch again, adjusting the guitar in his lap.

"No pressure," he mutters, and Seb lets out a small laugh, making Evan look up at him from under his eyelashes. He smiles. "So what, anything?"

"Anything," Seb confirms, and Evan exhales, as though wishing Seb would give him more to work with. But then, after a few seconds, he starts playing.

The sound of the guitar is smooth and comforting, Evan's fingers sliding over the strings in practiced, fluid motions, as his whole body seems to relax into it. Seb watches him as he plays, and Evan glances up at him, before he starts singing. And Seb swears his eyes actually widen as he hears it.

Evan's voice is soft, like velvet, flowing through the air and wrapping itself around Seb in a beautiful mist of relaxed satisfaction, leaving him feeling completely content and safe.

He leans back against the softness of the worn leather couch, resisting the urge to close his eyes, wanting to look at Evan, at the way he seems to feel so at home while playing, while singing. Those green eyes are half-closed, barely even looking up, which Seb is grateful for; it means he can look at Evan without getting caught. And the music keeps flowing, intertwining  perfectly with Evan's voice. It's beautiful.

When the song is over, the air seems to vibrate slightly with the lingering feel of it, and for a few moments, Seb just sits there, half-lying in the corner of the couch. Evan looks up at him, a bit self-conscious―an expression Seb had never imagined seeing on his face―as though waiting for some kind of feedback. But Seb can't say anything. Instead, he just lies there, looking at Evan, frozen.