#il.docx

[sebchalex]

sebchal WIP, 300 words — angst

(this is an excerpt from a fic I've been working on for some months and forgotten about bc of RL things. after today, I'll try picking it up again.)

And so he does. Even though Charles knows what's coming, there's still a small breath of surprise that comes out of him as Sebastian kisses him. He lays his lips on Charles's and kisses him deeply, cupping his face. At once Charles's senses are engulfed with plentiful. The smell of Sebastian's cologne. How sweet Sebastian tastes. This is what he's been missing, all this time.

Sebastian pulls away, and only then Charles is able to inhale again. For a while, it seemed like there was nothing else that mattered in the present; only Sebastian, Charles, and the way his chest feels so heavy and light with air at the same time.

"How long have you wanted to do that?" Charles whispers. He doesn't want to feel like this alone, wants to make sure Sebastian feels the same way.

Sebastian’s thumb grazes his cheekbone. "A long, long time."

Charles's heart drops to his stomach. All this time. "We could've had this since the beginning."

For a moment, Sebastian's face crumples before shifting into a sad smile. "If only," he says, caressing the side of Charles's face.

Time has never been on their side, not then, and not now. This time, Charles is the one who kisses Sebastian first. It's slower now, both of them unwilling to let go of each other. He cups Sebastian's face, pulling him closer by the face. He tangles his fingers in Sebastian's curls, trying to get every inch of him to touch Charles's body. It feels so right.

He doesn't know which one breaks the kiss this time. Perhaps it's both of them, running out of air. The haze clears out of Charles's mind, and he presses his forehead to Sebastian's. "Seb," he says. "I can't."

Sebastian's lips follow his head, trying to leave his mark all over Charles's skin, but Charles reluctantly turns away with a heavy sigh. "I really can't. I'm—"

"—sorry," Sebastian finishes for him. He puts a few distance between him and Charles, and the heat dissipates from between them. Charles can see the red on his cheeks, his lips. "I know."

Charles wants to say, it's not your fault, but Sebastian has put his hand on his face, covering his mouth. He isn't looking at Charles, his gaze now fixed on a point beyond the road.

[sebchalex]

turn me into ashes

Oscar/Mark + minor Seb/Mark (Martian) | 4.4k words | explicit |

sequel to sweet as blood-red jam    

Sebastian juts his lower lip out and makes a sound by blowing the air, but to Mark's ears, he sounds exasperated. "Well, he has you now," says Sebastian. "I imagine you are much nicer to him than you were to me."

Mark drops his head forward. "You don't know that," he says, trying to keep his tone casual.

Sebastian discovers something about Mark, and Mark rediscovers their similarities.            

[sebchalex]

WIP Amnesty 2022

for @crumbsfortherats‘s WIP amnesty, I’m putting out five of my beloved stories that I couldn’t finish for a myriad of reasons 😅

Since it turned out to be a lot, I’m putting all of the prompts under the read-more. You can see the full prompt and excerpt on the masterlist post on Dreamwidth, along with others’!

WIP Amnesty #1: Sebchal - Unsent Text Messages

Inspired by theunsentproject. Throughout the 2019-2020 seasons, Charles writes some messages to Sebastian but never quite sends them, always saving them to his drafts. The messages start from the first time Sebastian gives Charles his number to their post Abu Dhabi 2020 helmet exchange, where basically Charles pours his heart out and confesses his feelings. The kicker is one night, Charles accidentally sends all of his drafts to Sebastian.

I was thinking about writing the fic in a text-message format a la theunsentproject back then, and because Sebastian is that analog babe, maybe he could write his feelings back to Charles with a paper letter.

(excerpt on Dreamdwith)

WIP Amnesty #2: Sebchal - Jazz Musician/Store Clerk Non-Famous AU

Charles is a store clerk trying to get a handle on the music scene, and Sebastian is a big hotshot jazz musician who just arrived in town. Seb just came into town and went into Charles’s store, except boom, Charles doesn’t recognize him. They have a conversation that turns into an argument as Charles thinks that jazz is boring, yet Sebastian has that jazz is love, jazz is life mindset. They part ways in not an amicable way.

The next day, Charles goes to a jazz club (maybe he was dared by Pierre or Alex, idk) and sees Sebastian on stage, and panics because oh no, this was the man he talked with yesterday.

I mostly only had the setting and the cute first-meeting in mind. They were going to go on cute dates where Sebastian shows Charles on a cute musical journey. Also because I’m a Chalex-er at heart, I wanted Charles to have just broken up with Alex and he’s still trying to move on from Alex. To add drama, Charles’s bestest friend Pierre is now fooling around with Alex, so he has to deal with that too. lol. I was thinking of making it into a story that’s not just about jazz and music, but also friendships, family, and personality growth.

(excerpt on Tumblr, Dreamwidth)

WIP Amnesty #3: Sebchal - Ad executive AU

Inspired by Mad Men because I love that show to death. Charles is a househusband who’s unhappily married to an ad executive (the who is not that important, but I was thinking of Max lmao, so let’s just say that it’s him for example). One day, Charles’s partner needs him for a business dinner where everyone brings their partners in. So there, Max’s co-workers and clients all bring their respective SOs, except one charming German who says that he’s recently divorced. He and Charles end up talking all night, forgetting about the business meeting in the first place. Chemistry strikes, and Charles has a profound realization about how he doesn't want to end up unhappy and bitter. He comes home with Sebastian on his mind.

WIP Amnesty #4: Sebchal - Fluffy temporary amnesia + husbands shenanigans

Charles has an accident/surgery that causes him to have temporary amnesia. (The surgery could be really not that serious, as long as Charles gets hooked on the good drugs!) He sees Sebastian and is basically stuck in that 2017-hero-worship era when he sees him, not remembering that Sebastian is his husband. Sebastian has a lot of fun with Charles in this state, teasing him, and telling Charles all about his husband, while Charles seethes in jealousy because Seb has a husband that’s not him!!! This story is basically lots of fluff.

(excerpt on Dreamwidth)

WIP Amnesty #5: Sebchal + Max - Dynamics study

Seb and Charles are in an established relationship. One day, Seb asks Charles about if something had ever happened with him and Max. Charles says truthfully that no, but because after Sebastian asks him, now he can’t actually stop thinking about it. Then, after a meeting of chance with Max, and some arrangement to their schedules, well... ╮(╯_╰)╭

This was written way back in my exploring-Lestappen days. I don’t really vibe with them anymore, but I’ve written too much about this for it to be just put aside 🤪

(excerpt on Dreamwidth)

[sebchalex]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Charles Leclerc/Sebastian Vettel | 4875 words | Teen and Up

Additional Tags: Animal Transformation, Curses, Crack Treated Seriously, crack on steroids Summary:

As Sebastian Vettel awoke one morning from a dreamless sleep, he found himself transformed in his bed into a cat.

(Or, how Sebastian learned how to hold his tongue around circuit cats: the hard way.)

[sebchalex]

locks of auburn hair

Charles runs his fingers through Alex’s hair. “Why red?” he asks.

[sebchalex]

flashes (series of drabbles)

series on AO3 // 3.8k total

just deanoned a bunch of fics sooo if you want to read pieces of my brain that managed to become coherent, then go ahead and be my guest! (*^▽^*)

[sebchalex]

breaking and entering

Sebchal - Batman fusion AU - rated T 700 words

For someone who’s trespassing, the man is not being subtle at all. While Sebastian’s senses aren’t as alert as they would be on any other night, his hearing is still sharp enough to pinpoint the sound of footsteps across the hardwood floors, causing him to get up and walk to the trophy room.

The man doesn’t seem to register Sebastian at all, still looking around the valuable items in this room with intense interest. That will change in a moment.

“I think non-household members are limited to downstairs,” says Sebastian, and the man turns around with a gasp, eyes wide.

“Mr. Vettel,” the man says, a bit breathless. His white shirt is tucked into dress pants, and a bowtie adorns his neck. The light bouncing off the moonlight through the windows is the only thing that lets Sebastian see the nametag on his vest—Charles. One of the maids, then. “I didn’t see you there. You scared me.”

“No more than you scared me, I’d say,” Sebastian says, making his way to Charles. His legs are screaming with his weight—last night’s fall has regressed the recovery of his hips—but he ignores the pain, slowly settling himself next to Charles.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think that you’d be here,” says Charles. There is a tinge of a French accent in his voice. “They say that you disappear to the mountains in the winter.”

“I came back early,” Sebastian says, plastering his Sebbi smile on his face. “What are you doing here, Charles?”

Charles’s hand comes up to his nametag as though to cover it. “I lost my way and ended up here. It’s a very big house,” he chuckles, ducking his head down. Dimples appear on the corners of his mouth. “I’m the new housekeeper Ms. Roeske hired, you see.”

Sebastian merely hums. A sound reason, indeed. He takes a look at the display case and catalogues the contents in his head. “I see you’re looking at my parents’ valuables,” he says, his finger hovering over the glass. “To honour their memory, I put them on display behind a secure lock that would need my bioprint to open. My mother’s necklace is safely here,” Sebastian puts his hand on the scanner, “and my father’s cufflinks should be right… here.”

The drawer below the display opens, and what should be there is not. Not surprising. Sebastian’s gaze darts towards the familiar silver on Charles’s shirt cuffs.

“Interestingly, they seem to have found their way to you,” says Sebastian.

What naivety and bubbliness that had been written on Charles’s face has disappeared, and his eyes darken as a smug smile appears on his face. “Interesting, indeed,” he says, his voice dropping a tone lower, not sounding sorry at all that he got caught.

“How did you bypass the bioprint?” asks Sebastian, half-impressed and half-bemused. Burglars generally don’t linger around after stealing jewellery from the wealthy residents of Gotham, and they certainly don’t make conversation with the ones they stole from.

“The bioprint needs your DNA, which could be from your handprint or a few strands of hair,” Charles explains. “You’ve been losing a lot of hair, Mr. Vettel. Maybe from stress? You should’ve stayed longer in the mountains.”

“I’m good, actually,” Sebastian says dryly. He extends a hand toward Charles. Like always, he gives a chance for repentance. “I’m afraid you’ll have to give those back.”

“Interesting proposition, but I’m afraid that your suggestions are not in line with my feelings.”

“And your feelings are?”

“I would like to keep the cufflinks,” says Charles. Without a warning, he kicks Sebastian’s leg—somehow, it’s not the injured one—and opens the window window as Sebastian falls ungracefully with a grunt. Charles makes a quick jump and perches on the frame.

“By the way, I didn’t really mean anything about your hair,” Charles says. “But it’ll look better if you cut it short.” He smiles. “Good night, Seb.”

With that, he leaps back into the dark of night, and Sebastian hears the thump of someone landing on the grass below. Britta needs to do a more thorough background check, Sebastian thinks as he gets up from the floor.

[sebchalex]

sebchal — jazz club AU — G

470 words

in which Seb is a famous jazz player, and Charles is a music store clerk who didn’t know Seb when he visited his store yesterday, until they meet again at Seb’s club

Now in a suit and tie, Sebastian looked vastly different than he had looked like back in the store, when he was playing with the rack of CDs in his ugly plaid shirt. He’s staring at Charles with just the same intensity, however. It was not done in a challenging manner. It seemed that Sebastian was just one of those people who, when talking to people, was determined to peel their layers off one at a time, starting by peering into their soul. Unfortunately, Charles was his current target.

“You again,” Sebastian said. “The music store clerk who insulted jazz.”

Charles held his breath. He had hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t recognized him, but it turns out that tonight was just full of surprises. Wanting to preserve his dignity, Charles shook his head rapidly. “I didn’t insult jazz,” he refuted, and then tried to remember the exact words he had used when he first met Sebastian, just in case. No, he just—

“You said it was boring,” Sebastian said, raising an eyebrow.

Ah. Yes. That. “Sorry,” Charles said, feeling the heat rushing to his cheeks.

Sebastian chuckled and leaned one arm on the lid of the glossy piano. The stance he took started to make Charles relax as well. “Do you still think that way, then?”

“No!” Charles quickly said, shaking his head. Now that he’s seen someone like Sebastian play it like that, he found his mind changing. “It was—I didn’t know that it could be played like that.”

There was still the rush of endorphins inside his brain from watching such a wonderful spectacle from Sebastian and the rest of the band. Tonight’s performance had opened his eyes by a mile. Besides, if he had known that Sebastian was an actual jazz player, then of course he wouldn’t have tried to show off his one-year-of-learning-piano skills and embarrassed himself like that yesterday.

“That’s because I played modern songs that you’d know,” Sebastian said. “If you don’t know the songs, then you wouldn’t have enjoyed it the same.”

“There were some songs that I didn’t recognize,” Charles said, remembering a certain mellow tune in the middle of Sebastian’s segment.

“Really? I thought we had picked songs that everyone knows already.” Sebastian paused, searching Charles’s face. “What kind of music do you usually listen to, anyway?”

Sadly, Charles had a feeling that his Weekly Discovery playlist on his Spotify certainly could not impress this very professional jazz player in front of him. “You know, stuff,” he said with a shrug, and then, to make everything clear, he mumbled, “I don’t usually listen to jazz.”

Sebastian laughed and shook his head. “I can see that,” he said with a smile, and something inside Charles’s stomach fluttered as Sebastian pulled away from the piano and fixed his tie.