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thatwritingnerd · 3 years

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3 for elliott/sebastian 🥺 @gendercraft

Summary: Sebastian has steadily fallen in love with the resident novelist from the moment he saves him but he would never dare confess such a thing as feelings. He wouldn't want to ruin their new relationship but he doesn't think he can silently pine for Elliott any longer.

Warnings: minor embarrassment, mentions of depression

For the prompt: I just told you I liked you but now I’m shy and say “never mind, forget it” and why are you looking at me like that?

Word count: 2k

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It wasn’t as if Sebastian wanted to make more friends, he already had two and that was enough, right? He would curse his inability to stay away from the beach on the rainiest of days, legs tucked under himself as he sat at the end of the pier, the rain cool in the humid summer day giving some relief to the uncomfortable heat. Curse his incessant need to dwell in his own suffering and despair – and, no, he’s not dramatic, thank you. And, you know what, curse Elliott too.

Elliott and his worrisome nature, his concern and fretting if Sebastian is alright. He’s not. He wasn’t. Wet through, undoubtedly getting a cold, amid a depressive episode. And Elliott, soft, sweet Elliott, holding an umbrella over him, his own long hair dampening and coat soaking from where the wind blows the rain. And Sebastian couldn’t find it in him to deny the man his company, and that’s how he found himself in Elliott’s small and rustic yet homely, warm cabin. Then how he found his friendship starting with the older man.

He had somewhat awkwardly sat there, on the other’s bed, blanket around his bare shoulders, dressed in a pair of sweatpants that he would never have guessed that Elliott would have owned, a cup of green tea in his hands, listening to Elliott hum something whilst his clothing dried and the storm settled.

Maybe, Sebastian thinks, that was the moment he first started to fall in love with Elliott.

And he didn’t stop falling for some time.

Elliott had seemingly integrated himself into his life, at first it was the occasional ‘hello’ at the saloon on a Friday, which sparked questions from Sam and Abigail, or the brief passing conversation at a festival when they were both alone and drawn to the other. Then a meeting which turned into a conversation on the bridge to the beach on a late evening, around the side of the community centre, but the docks were still their favoured place for a chance meeting. Not that Sebastian would tell himself that he went there less to be alone now and more so for a chance at seeing the other man.

Sebastian could not lie to himself, Elliott is an attractive man, and he knows it, that is for sure, he has eyes. But he could not tell a soul. Elliott is refined, put together, well kept, gentlemanly, he is everything Sebastian is not – and Sebastian feels inadequate enough merely from their friendship alone. He is nothing, he’s a loner, a shut in, a fucking nerd who has depressive breakdowns in the rain and needs to be rescued like a damsel in distress.

Rationally, he knows that Elliott and himself couldn’t be like that. Elliott’s standards were probably too high, and for good reason, not to mention their age gap, in a town like this the gossip would spread quicker than wildfire. But that didn’t stop him, it could not stop him, falling in love with Elliott.

He fell in love with his passionate nature, his love for the sea and the sand, the way the side of his hand was always stained with ink, the way his eyes crinkled then shut when he laughed, the way he actually listened to Sebastian, or the way he did all the talking when it was clear that Sebastian did not want to talk, the way it took him almost an hour to get ready on a morning, the way he would always greet anyone with a pleasant smile, the way he made Sebastian feel like he mattered, like he actually mattered to the world, and to Elliott.

Sebastian did not just fall in love with him. Sebastian was in love with him.

The damage had been done. But that did not mean that Elliott had to know, or perhaps he had already figured it out. Sebastian hopes not, as intelligent as Elliott is he himself is more stubborn and emotionally cut-off. He is tempted to shut himself off from the world, from Elliott, physically, it would be so easy to just not leave his room ever again, never step foot on the beach.

He could have. Yet he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Even in the heat of summer, the sand scorching hot and blinding, the sun shining blinding off the turquoise sea, all too hot in his all black ensemble. Just to see him. Sebastian became familiar with the creaking floorboards, the wind against the old windows, the constant smell of sea salt and green tea, the scratch of pen against paper, the keys of the old piano, and the soft, gentleness of Elliott’s voice.

Although he didn’t feel quite at home, on Elliott’s bed with a borrowed, old book in his hands, he felt comfortable despite the nervous thrum of anxiety running through his veins constantly. Every time Elliott dared to look in his direction, to speak to him, to listen to him, it made him nervous, made him blush like a little schoolboy with a crush.

It wasn’t until he truly let Elliott in, pushed down his barriers, that his mind supplied that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one with these sorts of feelings. Maybe they weren’t one sided, and maybe he wasn’t confined to pathetic pining for the rest of his stupid days in this valley.

When he let Elliott talk to him, not merely at him, to him, about things that mattered, about Elliott’s past in the city, about Sebastian’s want to escape but maybe how he may be changing his mind as of late, about Elliott’s fear of failure, about Sebastian’s fear of humiliation. When he let, no, encouraged Elliott to touch him – not like that. But a passing touch on his arm that lingered, a hand on his shoulder as he caressed the keys of Elliott’s piano, the gentle rest of Elliott’s chin against his shoulder as they shared a book, and the friendly hugs that seemed only to lengthen in time over time until Sebastian had no second thoughts of cuddling with the other man.

It was then, once the sun was setting, soft glows of orange and red skimming through the windowpane’s and onto the older man, skin soft and hair aflame under the light. Elliott’s eyes closed, breathing shallow, and Sebastian is unsure if he is still awake, lying next to him, their legs intertwined together, Elliott’s latest literary recommendation laying open against Sebastian’s chest. He doesn’t even think, some innate part of him acting without his own attention, before he brushes smooth strands of hair out of Elliott’s face, fingers stroking over the softness of his cheek.

“You have no idea,” Sebastian whispers, barely a breath being released, “no idea how much you’ve come to mean to me, how much I like you.”

He sighs, letting his hand fall away, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, guilty about touching him, telling him something so… important? Private? Something he maybe should have said to a more conscious Elliott in truth?

“Sebastian?”

Well, fuck.

“I, uh, don’t- yeah.”

He dares to look back at Elliott, eyes bleary and unfocused, attempting to push himself to sit upright but settle for leaning back on an arm behind himself, clearly having been attempting at sleeping at least. And Sebastian, despite himself, thinks that Elliott looks even better like this, mussed and lax, prettier than when he is all dressed up and trying too hard.

“What did you just say?” Elliott asks, voice low and quiet, as if Sebastian will spook if he speaks any louder and, honestly, he might.

“Never mind, forget it.”

Elliott looks hurt, sad and frustrated all at once, and Sebastian feels guilty all over again, flushing out of embarrassment and humiliation, not only at his admission now but at hurting Elliott. Maybe he had been completely wrong, and maybe he had ruined this for himself, for the both of them.

“No, don’t, please,” Elliott mutters out, hesitant and slow in his movement but he reaches out to take the book from Sebastian’s chest, laying it down on his side table, before taking Sebastian’s cool hand in his own, “don’t shut down again, please, let me hear you, don’t get stuck in that head of yours, please, for me, Sebastian.”

And, fuck, if that doesn’t twist on Sebastian’s emotions like nothing else, it hurts and makes him feel sick but giddy at the same time. Who knew emotions were so confusing?

“I- I can’t, not-” he stutters, defensive in his attempts to at least recover what little friendship he may have left with Elliott, but looking at him now, eyes sad and expectant. He sighs, defeated.

“I like you, Elliott, maybe too much, and I didn’t think I could like someone like this, I’ve never… you’re special. You’re just as weird as me, you listen to me, you go out of your way to talk to me. And I like it when you go on your little rants, when you tell me something reminded you of me, every book you recommend I read but not because they’re particularly interesting but because it was you that told me to. You saved me that day on the docks, not just that day but every day, you made me open up more, and I like that, I like who I’m becoming because of you, because I like you.”

It seems to rush out of him mostly as nonsense to himself but by the way Elliott looks at him, intense and enraptured, he is sure he’s making some sort of sense to him. Maybe that’s a bad thing.

“Oh, Sebastian,” Elliott says, thumb running over the backs of his knuckles gently, “how long have you kept this inside of you?”

Sebastian adverts his gaze, glancing down at their hands now intertwined, and he pulls himself up more so to sit crossed legged opposite him.

“Too long.”

“You poor thing, if I had any inclination that you felt the same, I would have told you right away but I… I didn’t want to scare you away, not after I had earned your trust, I could not forgive myself if I lost you over something so silly as my own feelings,” Elliott explains, his own gaze now embarrassed and downward turned.

And Sebastian reminds himself to actively close his mouth from gaping, “wait, you…”

Elliott laughs, a soft, nervous thing.

“Yes, Sebastian, I like you a little too much too.”

Sebastian has half the mind to swat at his upper arm for that, reiterating his previous words.

“Since when?”

Elliott smiles at him, meeting his gaze finally, thumb never ceasing over the pale skin of Sebastian’s hand, “too long.”

Sebastian laughs this time, nervousness dissipating, and maybe it isn’t exactly a dreamy love confession that he thought about in the darkness of night alone, but it’s real and enough for him.

“I think it was that day, on the docks, you helped me, and I think I started to fall for you then.”

Elliott’s smile is nothing short of beautiful, ethereal.

“Then, when you were in my cabin for the first time, wrapped in my blankets, on my bed, you looked so at home. I couldn’t help but invite you back, keep you in my life, after I saw you there, vulnerable, something other than your rough exterior, I wanted more of you.”

And Sebastian can do nothing but smile back.

Things don’t change much. Sebastian makes his way to the docks as usual, rain spitting around him, and Elliott is there, waiting, with an umbrella. He meets him with a chaste, gentle kiss, earning him a warm arm wrapped around his waist and he leans into the touch eagerly.

“Good evening, dearest, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, fondly yet teasing.

He ducks his head to Elliott’s chest, he is warm and feels like home, “missed you, is all.”

Elliott kisses his forehead, “I missed you too, dear.”

#stardew valley #sdv #sebastian/elliott #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #embarrasment #pining #depression mention #nothing too heavy though promise #love confessions #el writes #thatwritingnerd

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