I technically posted a WIP earlier, but I'll tack this on as well for a lighter note. Lol
The anxiety balled in Westley’s chest dissipated, filtering lower and fluttering through his stomach. He stalled, taking in just how inviting Sebastian looked in that moment—sprawled out and blinking slow. Westley set his spectacles on the tea table, then crawled toward him, slotting himself between Sebastian’s legs and laying his head on his chest. The Slytherin tossed his robe over them both, tucking the green hood in around Westley’s chin and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.
As calm as he had been presenting himself, the thundering in Sebastian’s chest gave him away instantly. He was just as nervous as Westley. As intimate as they’d been with each other before, this was…different. Westley tucked his arms in at Sebastian’s sides and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. He’d never heard Sebastian’s heartbeat before, he realized. And as elevated as it currently was, the steady thrum still worked to ease the remaining tension in his chest.
“I can’t promise I’ll actually be able to help you sleep. Or take away the nightmares,” Sebastian mumbled against the top of his head. “But I’ll be here if you wake up, alright?”
Tears pricked at the corners of Westley’s eyes, and he nodded, burying his face further into Sebastian’s chest. “Thank you.”
NPT: @pikadrawsthings @eternalremorse @noxxytocin @pheexblack @theladyofshalott1989 + YOU 🫵
thank you for the tags, @chronically-ghosted and @toomanystoriessolittletime 🩷🩷
the rules: if you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your unposted WIP with zero context
Weeks would pass between interactions, sometimes longer, and to his irritation, each time he saw you, he’d feel a foreign, faint sense of relief that you were alive. Whole. Still fighting. An instinct would rear up in his chest and insist, quiet but adamant: keep, protect, know.
He ignored it every time.
Race and Albert keep stealing Race's cigar back and forth while they're hiding from the rest of the newsies (because the Littles are having a meltdown over something and they don't want to be forced into actually being the responsible ones and deal with it). Then they figure out a far more enjoyable way to spend their time.
1,200 words of Fluff happens. (Or you can read on AO3: here)
It was not, by any means, the first time they had found themselves in this particular alleyway. Not that it was anything special – narrow enough to touch the building on either side even with their elbows bent, with a crook in the middle that made it a perfect haven from prying eyes, and close enough to the lodging house to hear the screaming, and return in a hurry if it reached the necessary levels.
It was a nice enough place, somewhere to be themselves, relax in companionable silence alongside some who understands, without the pressures of the day weighing too heavily. Tonight felt different though, the air was charged with an unusual tension, as if the universe itself was holding its breath.
Race leaned against the cool brick wall, twisting the unlit cigar idly in between his fingers. He didn’t actually smoke them, they were far too expensive for that, but it was an easy habit, something to do with his fingers that didn’t betray his anxieties as easily as other habits he could have picked up.
Albert stood a few steps away, gazing up at the night sky without seeing. He remembered a time when he was young, back when he had a ma and a pa and brothers that weren’t cold and dead in the grave, they’d gone far out of the city once, far enough for the lights and the noise and the bustle to disappear into nothingness. Albert had stared at the night sky then too, except it was the star he was staring at. Countless stars stretching on into eternity – even as a kid it had been the most beautiful thing Albert had ever seen. You don’t get stars like that in the city.
He took a step away, hoping the physical action would help shake the thoughts, the memories from his body, but only succeeding in catching the toe of his boot in a small crack in the pavement, stumbling without warning. The hand he reached out was nothing short of instinctual, landing square on Race’s chest.
Their eyes met, and for a moment nothing happened, a shared expression of surprise and uncertainty passing between them.
“I, uh… Sorry Race,” Albert stammered after far too long a pause, his cheeks colouring to match the faint red of his hair, as he carefully pried his hand away, as if it had been stuck with a remarkably tacky glue.
Race’s lips only curved into a faint smile, bemused more so than any other emotion. “No harm done, Al. Accidents happen.” He spun the cigar between his fingers in much the same manner as Albert had once watched a fire-breather dance with the flames the time he snuck into the circus.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Albert adjusted his standing subtly, his fingers darting out and snatching Race’s cigar in one deft movement, the tips of his fingers brushing against Race’s as he took hold of the cigar’s paper, almost spinning as he moved just out of reach of Race instinctual first grab to take it back.
There was a moment where time seemed to stand still, Albert holding his unfairly earned bounty aloft, a smirk dancing in the his eyes more so than the edges of his lips, as he looked at Race expecting a playful protest in response.
But instead of the carefree banter he had anticipated, the tension between them only seemed to intensify. Albert's fingers tightened around the cigar, and his heart skipped a beat as Race's gaze bore into his own.
In an instant, the tables turned.
Race's hand darted forward, moving with a speed hard-earned from years working on the streets, reclaiming his cigar from Albert’s grasp.
Their eyes lock, and …
… nothing.
Albert looks away.
"You always have to make it look so easy, don't you?" Albert mused, more to himself than to Race, but still there was that hint of admiration in his voice.
Race shrugged, an easy gesture that seemed to imply so much more. His gaze softening as he caught Albert's eyes and refused to look away. "Just do what feels right, Al. Ain't no use complicatin' things."
As he spoke, their proximity seemed to magnify, the space between them diminishing until their breaths mingled in the chilly air. The moment hung suspended, their heartbeats echoing the same rhythm.
Time seemed to slow, the words twisting through Albert’s brain, and his gaze dropped to Race's lips, a subtle hesitation flickering in his eyes. There wasn’t a conscious thought, not one intentional decision, as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against Race's for the briefest of moments.
The touch was electric, a jolt of recognition that left him speechless. He barely had a moment to process what was happening before Albert jerked back, his own expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty, as if even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.
A heartbeat passed.
And another.
The alleyway felt like the universe and the universe felt like the alleyway, all folding in on itself and each other until there was nothing else, no one else.
Just them, and the moment, and the silence.
Race's fingers brushed against his own lips, his mind racing to catch up with his heart. Albert's breath came in shallow, uneven waves, his gaze locked onto Race's, hopeful terror burned into his eyes.
The silence stretched.
A heartbeat passed.
And another.
There wasn’t a conscious thought, not one intentional decision.
Race closed the gap between them.
His fingers tangled in the fabric of Albert's coat, the cigar dropped to the floor, lonely and forgotten, as their lips met again, this time with a deliberate tenderness that sent shivers down the spines of both boys.
The kiss deepened, a emotions that had been long suppressed, long ignored bursting to the surface and making themselves very intentionally known.
There was no world outside the alley.
There was only the moment and the alley and each other.
Eventually they had to breath, but that didn’t mean they had to separate – foreheads touching to replace their lips, breath intermingling.
There was no world outside the alley.
There was no world outside them.
Albert’s voice returned to him first, laden with emotions. “Race…”
Race’s eyes couldn’t not meet Albert’s, an identical mixture of vulnerability and longing swirling within them. The unspoken words hung in the air between them, shared desire and uncertainty, weighing the air between them.
“Al…” he breathed back, the rest of his vocabulary stolen from him.
Albert's fingers brushed against Race's cheek, his touch a gentle caress that held a world of tenderness, eyes fluttering shut. It was a gesture that spoke volumes. It was a silent affirmation of what they could no longer turn away from. It was a confirmation of their connection in a world that would seek only to tear them apart. It was the flicker of that possibility, a brand new path suddenly illuminated where before had only been darkness.
It may not have been their first time hiding in the alleyway, narrow and crooked and close to the lodging house. But as they closed the gap between themselves for the third time, they were sure it would definitely not be their last.
Albert let himself fall into eternity.
Who needed stars anyway?
