21. “Do you like what you see?” “You know I always do.”
This turned out to just be a short drabble, but I hope you like it all the same! Pure wedding fluff and cuteness and a healthy dose of Wildcat Chaos.
Seb stood in front of his (childhood) bedroom mirror, early afternoon light streaming in from the window. He smoothed down his collar and straightened his buttons before running a hand through his hair. Tousled, but not too tousled. He looked relaxed and handsome, he couldn't deny that.
He turned from the mirror at the sound of shuffling behind him, signaling someone had come through the door. “Do you like what you see?”
Carlos beamed at him, leaning against the door frame. “You know I always do.”
“Really?” Seb pulled at the sleeve of his dark blue button-up. “I know this isn’t exactly what you imagined today would be like.” Seb glanced back at his reflection, at the simple linen shirt and cream-colored pants he was wearing.
“Seb,” Carlos sighed, stepping forward into the room to stand next to Seb at the mirror. Carlos was dressed equally casually, in a burnt orange shirt that complemented the deep blue Seb wore and similar light-colored pants. “First of all, you know I love you in blue.”
“It brings out my eyes, I know.” He rolled his eyes, but it was all fond.
“Exactly,” Carlos pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “And secondly, this was my idea."
In the mirror, Seb’s reflection nodded. It had been Carlos’ idea, the day before. They were tearing their hair out trying to set a date that all their friends would somehow be able to make, some magical day when all their schedules would line up.
“Too bad we can’t just get married tomorrow,” Seb joked. “While everyone is still in Salt Lake.”
Carlos didn’t laugh. “Why can’t we?”
"But," Seb argued. "Nobody down there knows we’re doing this. We could still back out.”
"I want to do this today," Carlos continued. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't."
“But I know how much planning you already did and—"
“And what?” Carlos frowned. “You think because we’re not in overpriced tuxes we’ll only wear once, and we didn’t pay hundreds of dollars for a cake that turns out to be mostly fondant, that I don’t want this? That I need all the fancy bells and whistles to be happy?”
“I…” Seb swallowed. “I don’t know."
“Seb, look at me.” Carlos put two hands on either side of Seb’s face and pulled his gaze away from the mirror. “I love you. I want you to be my husband more than anything. And I don’t want to wait another second to make that happen. Okay?"
“But what about your dream wedding?” Seb asked. They’d gone through this the night before, when the idea had first come up, Seb expressing all the same insecurities and Carlos shutting each one down with soft kisses. But it hadn’t fully set in how serious Carlos had been until an hour ago, when he called Ashlyn.
“My dream wedding isn’t the fancy stuff,” Carlos rolled his eyes. “Not anymore. It’s getting to marry the love of my life surrounded by everyone I care about.”
“Oh,” Seb blushed. “Mine too.”
“Then come on,” Carlos took his hand. “Let’s go get married.”
Carlos dragged Seb out of the farmhouse and out to the grazing meadow where all their friends, Carlos' sisters, and Seb’s family were. There were a couple of picnic tables and Seb’s father had rolled out the grill. They caught Ashlyn’s eye and Seb shot her a wink. She grinned at them over a plastic cup of root beer.
Their friends and family (except for Ashlyn, who they had asked to officiate) all thought this was just a barbecue, to take advantage of the nice weather, and then all being in town at the same time.
“Ahem,” Carlos cleared his throat. “Can I have everyone’s attention please?”
Everyone continued to talk.
“Hey!” Carlos yelled, dropping into what they called Choreographer Voice. “Pay Attention!”
Everyone quieted down.
“Seb and I have a bit of a surprise for you all,” Carlos squeezed Seb’s hand, which he had managed to hold onto all the way downstairs and across the meadow. “This isn’t just a barbecue.”
Their friends looked around in confusion, murmuring to each other for a moment before Carlos continued.
“We’re getting married.”
“Uh,” EJ cocked his head to the side. “We all know that already.”
“We’re getting married right now,” Seb clarified. “This is our wedding.”
Carlos threw up some jazz hands. "Surprise!"
To say all hell broke loose would be an understatement. Shouts of “What?!” and “Oh my God!” and “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I thought we were best friends!” and "Mama is going to kill you, Carlito!" all blended together.
Seb turned to his fiancé, leaning in and speaking quietly so only he could hear. “You still sure about this?”
Carlos grinned. “Baby, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss.
The East High Drama Department is a flurry of activity. Kids are running around halfway in costume, full of the good kind of anxious energy, the kind they will harness and pour into their performances. Seb smiles to himself as he watches Ashlyn steal the crown off Ricky’s head and put it on her own with a mischievous grin, darting just out of reach when he tries to grab it back. Seb loves this brief window of time before the curtain goes up when the air is thick with hairspray and anticipation. It’s his favorite part of any opening night.
He’s long since finished his own makeup and costume--compared to the intricacies of Sharpay, Chip was a breeze--and is content to simply soak up the moment.
His peace is broken by Kourtney calling him over. She’s standing over EJ, who is sitting backward in a wooden desk chair, straddling it and resting his forearms on the back.
“Tell EJ that the eyebrows complete his costume,” Kourtney demands, waving a thick, fake eyebrow in his face.
“Tell Kourtney that they look ridiculous,” EJ huffs. “And I don’t want glue residue all over my face.”
Seb smirks. “Worried about your risotto date?’
The tips of EJ’s ears turn red. “That’s--I’m not…” He sighs. “Maybe?”
Kourtney rolls her eyes. “EJ Caswell, nervous for a date. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Seb hums in agreement. “I guess cows really can change their spots.”
EJ blinks up at him. “Don’t you mean leopards?”
“Cows have spots, too,” Seb shrugs. “What difference does it make?”
EJ opens his mouth and closes it again. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”
“As cute as you two idiots are,” Kourtney lifts the gluestick again, “we still need to finish your eyebrows, EJ.”
EJ groans.
Seb laughs. “Have you seen Gina lately? She’s going to have leftover stage makeup on, too, EJ.”
EJ’s face does something soft and dreamy that tells Seb he most certainly has seen Gina.
Kourtney sighs, exasperated.
Seb laughs again. There’s only so much of Kourtney and EJ arguing over eyebrows and sideburns that he can take, though, and after helping Kourtney glue on EJ's left eyebrow (much to the senior's chagrin) he takes his leave, weaving through the maze of nervous and excited students. He pretends to be aimless, but in truth, he does have a destination in mind. He just doesn’t want to seem too eager.
He passes by Big Red, who seems anxious in the bad way that makes your stomach flip over itself and your throat close up and your limbs feel heavy. Seb offers a few words of support and sympathy, a warm smile, and a squeeze of his shoulder. It seems to help a little.
Finally, he finds himself standing in front of a vanity. His eyes land on the mirror, taking in the reflection of the boy sitting at the small table. The bright lights illuminate his brown eyes, turning them into molten amber, and shine off his gelled hair. He looks beautiful, save for the frown curling his lips.
“Hey, honey,” Seb says softly. “What’s wrong.”
The reflection shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Seb recognizes the tremor in his boyfriend’s voice immediately. The bad kind of anxious.
He leans down so his reflection is next to Carlos’ in the mirror. “You’re the only person who can pull this off.”
Carlos purses his lips, recognizing his own words from five months prior. “No, I’m not,” he says pointedly. “I can think of at least one person who can do exactly what I can, and probably better.”
Seb frowns. “This is about North High.”
Carlos nods.
“North High has fancy costumes and props, but you know what they don’t have?” Seb asks, smiling ever so slightly.
“Souls,” Carlos answers dryly. “They clearly sold theirs to Satan.”
Seb huffs a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to Carlos’ still bare cheek. “Your choreography, silly.”
Carlos doesn’t smile, but Seb can feel his breath slow slightly against his lips. “What if I mess up? What if I forget my lines? Or the steps? Or I sing the wrong note? Or--”
“None of that is going to happen,” Seb shakes his head. “You know these songs backward and forward. And I’m going to be out there on stage with you.”
Carlos leans his head into Seb’s shoulder. “This is so much scarier than going on for EJ during HSM.”
Seb snorts. “Hey, I thought your Chad was pretty iconic.”
“You just liked that I had to wear that sleeveless jersey,” Carlos quips, head still nestled against the soft, poofy fabric of Seb’s shirt.
“Maybe,” Seb admits, blushing slightly, before dropping a kiss to the top of Carlos’ head.
Carlos pulls away from Seb, reaching for the jar of gold makeup on the table in front of him. “I still need to do my makeup.”
“Want some help?” Seb asks. “I do have some experience in this department.”
Carlos’ hand stops, halfway to the makeup. “Are you already done with yours?’
Seb nods. “I didn’t have much.”
“Then, yes, definitely.”
Seb grabs a nearby chair and pulls it over, to sit in front of Carlos, who scoots his chair around so he’s no longer facing the mirror. He hands the makeup and a blending sponge to Seb, and Seb balances it on his lap. He starts at Carlos’ hairline, pushing his hair back to avoid getting any glitter in his hair. After a few slow swipes of makeup, Carlos’ forehead is covered in gold glitter. Seb grins.
“This is a good look on you.”
“You think everything is a good look on me,” Carlos retorts.
“Because everything is.”
“You’re biased.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Seb cradles Carlos’ head and gently tilts his head to apply makeup to his cheek. They’re close enough that he can feel Carlos’ breath on his skin, and he can tell when Carlos’ breath hitches, as Seb’s hands linger against his cheek. He swallows hard. Carlos is so beautiful, even up close, where Seb can see every blemish, every mole. He sets the blending sponge and the makeup on the table beside them.
One hand is still cupping Carlos’ jaw, and he brings it up, tracing his finger against Carlos’ soft lips. Once, twice, three times. Carlos’ breaths are coming faster and faster, and Seb can’t hold back any longer. He tilts Carlos’ chin up and leans in.
Carlos stops him just millimeters from his lips. “You’re going to ruin your makeup,” he murmurs.
“I don’t care.” Seb closes the distance between them in a firm kiss. He pours himself into it, hopes Carlos can feel every ounce of his love in it. He’s rewarded when Carlos’ hands find their way to the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper. Seb gasps against Carlos' lips. He tastes like coffee and coconut lip balm, both bitter and sweet. Seb can't get enough. It doesn't matter that they're due on stage in less than thirty minutes. It doesn't matter that there's a Menkies judge somewhere in that auditorium waiting for them. All Seb wants is to keep kissing Carlos, to get lost in the tingles in his toes and fingertips and the warmth bubbling in his chest.
If Chip has a little bit of a gold shine that night, well, that’s nobody’s business but theirs.
I combined two of these prompts, but I couldn't work in the third. So this is #7 ("Can you feel this?") and #65 ("It's not funny"). I hope you like it! There's some suggestive dialogue and implied sexual content, but nothing actually explicit--and the beginning is truly not what you think. Also, it's written from an outside perspective (Seb's sister, my OC). (prompt list)
On the list of the top ten things you don’t want to hear when you’re standing outside your younger brother’s bedroom on a Saturday afternoon, the words “Can you feel this?” followed by a cutoff groan and a “God, Seb, yes,” are pretty close to the top.
Dana stood, frozen, curled fist just inches from the door. She was going to ask if Seb and Carlos wanted to come downstairs and have lunch with her, but, in all honesty, she’d lost her appetite. She wanted to move, to run back downstairs and pretend this had never happened, but she was frozen in place, listening.
There were muffled sounds of shuffling, and what sounded like mattress springs creaking, and more grunting sounds (from Carlos mostly, which said something about her brother’s relationship that she really never needed to know) and Dana’s stomach rolled. There was no doubt in her mind about what was happening on the other side of the door.
And look, Dana wasn’t stupid. Her brother was seventeen, and he and Carlos had been together for a year and a half at this point, which in high school terms is basically an eternity. She would have to be pretty deluded to think that they wouldn’t be…Engaging in certain physical activities. But assuming it and hearing it with her own ears, in the middle of the day, when they knew she would be home, that was something else entirely.
“Honey, I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” Seb’s voice came through the door.
Dear God, Dana did not want to know what didn’t fit or where it didn't fit. She willed her feet to start moving, but she was still stuck in place.
“Well, this is all we have,” Carlos replied, surprisingly snappish for the situation. And then after a brief pause. “I have another one is at my house.”
“I guess we’ll just have to make do for now, until we can get that one.” Seb conceded. There was more shuffling, and more gasps and moans–though they sounded more pained than turned on. Or maybe it was both? Christ. What was her baby brother into? Was this really the same kid who saved worms when it rained and couldn’t watch Bambi without full-on sobbing? When did he grow up and get kinky? And what on God’s green earth was she still doing outside his door?
She was so wrapped up in her existential crisis that she didn’t notice the twin set of footsteps coming to the door, or the knob turning.
“Dana?” Seb asked, head cocked to one side. “What are you doing?”
She blanched. “Uh. I wanted to ask if you were ready for lunch, but then I heard–” She cut herself off, suddenly realizing that both Seb and Carlos were completely clothed, even if they were a bit rumpled.
“What?” Seb asked.
She looked at Carlos, who was wearing a black brace around his left wrist. “You know, I’m not sure what I heard.”
“I sprained my wrist,” Carlos explained. “Seb’s letting me borrow this brace. It’s a little small, though.”
“Oh.” Dana managed, relief flooding through her as she shifted back towards Seb. “And let me guess, you felt his arm to make sure it wasn’t broken?”
He blinked. “How long have you been standing there?”
“And why did you look paler than usual when we first opened the door?” Carlos added.
“Uh.” Dana flushed. “A bit. And, um–I kind of–I had the wrong idea about what I was overhearing…”
“What did you think we were doing in there?” Seb asked, genuinely confused.
Carlos didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he already knew what she was thinking.
Seb glanced between them. “What? What am I missing?”
Carlos sighed. “Sweetie, she thought we were having sex.”
And, well. That was much blunter than Dana would’ve been, but at least she didn’t have to say it herself.
Seb stared at her, wide-eyed. “Dana, is that true?”
She nodded.
“Oh my God,” Seb slapped a hand over his mouth, but he couldn’t hold back the giggles that bubbled up in his chest. “Why would you–”
“You didn’t hear yourselves!” Dana huffed. “It was a reasonable conclusion!”
“I’m a bit concerned that my grunts of pain sounded like pleasure to you,” Carlos said, eyebrow raised in disbelief.
“I was concerned about it, too!” Dana insisted, fighting the blush that was willing itself across her face.
Seb just kept wheezing with laughter.
“It’s not funny!” She crossed her arms.
“Why aren’t you more upset about this?” Carlos asked his boyfriend. “She thought we would do that with other people in the house! She thought we were into kink!”
“That’s why it’s so funny!” Seb explained, catching his breath. “Because it’s so ridiculous.”
Dana and Carlos exchanged a look. Neither of them found it as amusing as Seb did, though clearly for very different reasons.
After a moment, Seb finally composed himself. “I really am sorry you had to go through that brief moment of horror, Dana.”
“Apology accepted,” she gave him the best smile she could muster. “And I’m sorry that I thought, well. Any of the things I thought.”
Carlos rolled his eyes“Apology reluctantly accepted.”
“Lunchtime?” Seb asked, hopeful.
“Definitely,” she agreed. “We can get Carlos some ibuprofen while we’re at it.”
“Please!” Carlos nodded eagerly.
The three of them headed down the stairs, Dana at the front, Carlos at the back, and Seb in between them.
“So,” Dana said casually, “How did you sprain your wrist?”
Carlos’ cheeks burned bright red. “I, uh, fell off the bed.”
