Bastien smelled of cigarette smoke when the door was pulled open, but the scent of alcohol didn’t accompany it. He slouched slightly, making himself seem even shorter, and his eyes were quiet and blank on the other Sebastian’s blue ones. “Sam,” he said quietly, holding up the single takeaway cup of coffee in his hand. “Mind if I watch you work?” There’s something comforting about it. Bas didn’t particularly want to talk, at least not yet. Sam was quiet and didn’t make Bastien feel like he had to stand any taller. The hitman rubbed a hand across his obviously exhausted face, rolling his head slowly around so his neck cracked.
“Look,” he said, his voice heavy and rough with something he couldn’t talk about. “I’ll go if you really want me to but I figured the coffee could at least get me in the door, and I wanted to talk to you about some modifications on my rifle anyway.”
Immediately, Sebastian can gather certain tells of the other’s state. The slouch, the flickering of his eyes, the nature of the question - obviously something was wrong. But, that had always been Sebastian’s weakness - compassion. A need to love and be loved.
He’s stepping out of the way even before Bastien explains himself, though he keeps his demeanor as nonchalant as possible. He looks affable rather than concerned and he seeks to keep it that way.
“Two coins for the gate keeper.” Sam comments softly, taking the coffee as it’s offered to him. “Come.” He says nothing else, waiting until Sebastian has made it securely inside to reinstate the security protocols and begin to lead the other up towards the lab.
If there’s one thing that Sebastian knows as a pinnacle method of coping, it’s diversion, so he draws Bastien’s focus with a question.
“What kind of modifications are you considering?”
