Sunnyside (a Sebastian Stan story)

The Cure For the Common Hangover

   The sounds of the city gave a life and a vibration to the darkness; though it was never really that dark. My fingers found Sebastians and my legs worked to keep up with his. I pushed my luck a little and placed my head on his shoulder, surprised when he let me keep it there.

   "Screw it," he said, pulling his hand from mine and putting his arm around me instead. I smiled to myself and tucked my arm around his waist.

   "See? The world didn't crash down around our ears because you've got me in your arms in public," I said, a sense of relief flooding me.

   "Has it been bothering you?" He asked it with his eyes dead ahead, leading my less than balanced form around minor obstacles on the sidewalk.

   I looked up at his face, cheek pressed against him. I wasn't really sure how to answer.

   He stopped walking and maneuvered me in front of him so I was facing him. “Winnie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to me about.”

   “I don’t want to rush you. But yeah, it sucks walking down the sidewalk and not being able to hold your hand unless you're reasonably sure nobody is watching. It sucks keeping our very limited physical contact to things we can do under a table. It’s like you don’t want people to know about me.” I hated that I was hitting him with all that, but he’d brought it up.

   He had a grip on my shoulders, one in each hand, and he bent down so we were eye to eye. “I was trying to protect you, not hide you.” His voice was tender and soft.

   I swallowed and nodded my head. “I know. Of course I know that. It’s fine,” I assured him.

   “It’s not fine. I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m sorry,” He really did look apologetic. “I’m going to make it up to you by kissing you right here in the open.”

   I grinned. “You don’t have to prove anything.”

   “Yeah, but I want to. Like a really wet, sloppy kiss. A noisy one.”  He leaned in and gave me a “warning shot”. Slow and soft, and just a hint of something sinful.

   I sighed in happiness. “You’re forgiven. Will you take me home and finish what you’ve just started?” For the moment, with the warm blanket of the air pressing on me and the alcohol buzzing it's way through my veins, I forgot about Sam and what she might have said. Sebastian was the sole occupant of my thoughts.

****

   A pair of muscular arms wound their way around my waist as I hung my head over the sink, splashing my face with cold water. There was a nail driven somewhere into the top of my skull; I was sure of it, I just hadn't found it yet. I started a bit at the feel of Sebastian's skin against mine; I'd thought he was dead to the world and hadn't heard him join me in the bathroom. He chuckled quietly to himself and pressed his face to the back of my neck, curved around me as I rinsed my face.

   I reached blindly for a towel, which he handed to me, and I spun to face him, pinned between his hips and the counter. He smiled. "Good morning."

   "Is it a good morning?"

   "No, I imagine for you it's not," he reached past me and turned the sink on again.

   "You're up early," I observed.

   "Parched," he said, reaching around me to fill a cup. He still hadn't released me, and as he pulled the cup towards his lips, he splashed some ice cold water down my thinly clothed chest. "Oops." His voice was flat.

   I made an offended noise, and as he took a sip, I tipped the bottom of the cup so it tilted higher in the air and spilled all down his face. "Oops."