Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sebastian reached the top step of their building and had to stop, one hand gripping the banister as the world swayed faintly around him. Seven in the evening counted as early these days, pathetic as that was. His eyes stung from screen glare and exhaustion, every blink slow and gritty. This wasn’t at all how he’d imagined life after graduating — not endless unpaid overtime, not thankless tasks dumped on the “junior”, and certainly not the suffocating atmosphere Rookwood Companies liked to call “a competitive culture”. Still, he reminded himself, it was a foot in the door. That was the only reason he hadn’t walked out months ago.

He pushed open the flat door with a shoulder, too tired to lift his arm properly. The familiar warmth of home met him — soft lighting, the faint smell of tea, and the absence of ringing phones or Rookwood barking at him through email. His whole body sagged in relief.

Most days he left before sunrise and stumbled back well after dark. Weekends had blurred into just more work; spreadsheets, reports, pointless revision cycles, and the constant pressure to “prove himself”. He liked the work, truly — the puzzle-solving, the small victories — but it had come at the cost of nearly everything else. He missed Ominis fiercely. Missed slow mornings together, missed hearing him laugh without having to keep one eye on the clock, missed being present rather than half-asleep.

He closed the door behind him and let his bag slip from his shoulder. For the first time in weeks, he was home before Ominis had given up waiting for him to walk through the door.

And Merlin, he hoped it mattered.

“Ominis?” he called, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door.

The flat was silent. The lights were off, but that didn’t mean much — Ominis rarely bothered turning them on when he was home alone.

Sebastian drifted into the kitchen. Too many times, he’d walked in and winced at the sight of a single plate still set out, a saucepan left covered on the hob, evidence that Ominis had eaten by himself but thought of Sebastian and left the food out for him. The image of Ominis sitting alone at the kitchen table — having laid the table for both of them, only to realise eventually that he would have to eat on his own — always sent a sharp spike of guilt up Sebastian’s spine.

But today the kitchen was clean. Empty. No cutlery laid out, no potatoes left in a pot on the stove.

Sebastian frowned.

“Hello?”

His stomach growled, but he wanted to find Ominis first. Say hi. Pull him into a hug. Apologise and grovel at his feet, something like that. He moved into the living room. The television was on, some nature documentary playing without audio description, which told him immediately that Ominis wasn’t actually watching it.

Sebastian’s frown deepened.

“Ominis?”

He pushed open the bedroom door and flicked on the ceiling light. His gaze swept the room, which was conspicuously missing Ominis — but contained something else instead.

A suitcase lay open on the bed, packed to the brim with clothes. Sebastian could spot a phone charger, Ominis’ toiletry bag, the oversized tube of absurdly expensive moisturiser Ominis insisted on buying. His linen shirts, lightweight suit trousers, and the green jumper Sebastian had given him for Christmas last year.

The exhaustion, frustration, and quiet despair that had been simmering for weeks suddenly crystallised into a solid, icy knot in his stomach. He was wide awake now.

In two quick strides, he reached the bed and began rifling through the suitcase. Carefully — Ominis always got annoyed if his shirts were creased — though it might not matter much longer anyway. His hands practically shook as he shifted the neatly folded clothes aside. Ominis’ deodorant. His aftershave. His smartwatch, the one he only wore when he’d be spending a lot of time outdoors in unfamiliar places. His dress shoes. His trainers.

Suddenly Sebastian couldn’t look anymore. Nausea surged up his throat and he stumbled backwards.

It couldn’t be real.

Yes, Sebastian had been working an obscene amount over the past few weeks. Their… everything had taken a hit because of it. They were lucky if Ominis was still awake when Sebastian got home,  and if Sebastian’s alarm didn’t go off before six in the morning.

Most of their communication happened via text now, and not the fun kind. “running late again. love you.” “okay. xoxo.”

Ominis had gone to Amit’s game nights and Imelda’s wine evenings alone. They’d managed to visit the city’s Christmas market together for exactly one hour before Sebastian had had to rush home to meet a deadline.

But all of it was temporary. Temporary. They’d talked about it when Sebastian got the job — about how it would be a rough period. Not just for Sebastian, but for Ominis too, who would inevitably be dragged into it. But this was just right now. To get a foot in the door. As soon as Sebastian had some experience, he could either move up to a better position with saner hours, or switch companies altogether.

And Ominis had nodded. Said he understood. Supported him.

No matter how many times Sebastian had texted missing dinner again. sorry, Ominis had taken it in stride. He’d stir awake when Sebastian crawled into bed, turn over and murmur, “Did you have a good day?” even when he was clearly only half-conscious. He’d cooked dinner for both of them and left it out for Sebastian, or made packed lunches wrapped in cling film and left them in the fridge for Sebastian to grab the next morning.

He’d listened patiently while Sebastian ranted about how vile Victor Rookwood was, about the soul-crushing work culture, offering sympathetic hums, practical suggestions, or simply agreeing with Sebastian’s righteous fury.

There had been no warning signs. No indication at all that Ominis would just… do this.

A sound behind him made Sebastian flinch and spin around.

Ominis stood in the doorway to their wardrobe-slash-storage room, a few jumpers folded in his arms. Sebastian tried to speak, but realised his voice wouldn’t come.

Ominis tilted his head. “Sebastian?”

Sebastian wet his lips. Any plan he’d had — to play it cool, to ask Ominis outright, to apologise immediately — went straight out the window.

“Please don’t leave me.”

So much for not sounding pathetic and whiny. As if he didn’t already understand, or know, just how absent he’d been. He thought of all the men and boyfriends you read about online, the ones who claimed “the divorce came out of nowhere,” “she just left me without any warning signs,” when in reality there had been thousands of them.

Now Sebastian was one of those men.

Ominis looked confused. “What?”

Sebastian barely heard him; he’d already worked himself into a kind of frantic monologue with a single goal: to make Ominis stay.

“I know I’ve been working an insane amount, but I promise it’s going to get better soon. It’s just for a little while longer. I can— I’ll ask Rookwood if I can leave earlier on Fridays, at least. Before six.” He winced. “Okay, that’s still late. Before five, then. I might have to stay later on another day to make up for it, but that’s fine — we can make Fridays our thing, say that Fridays are always ours…”

“Sebastian.”

“…and I promise I’ll message you more while I’m at work. Rookwood barely ever sees what I’m doing behind my screen — I can set an alarm to text you every hour…” He drifted closer to Ominis almost without realising, but didn’t dare touch him yet, didn’t dare pull him into a hug. He stopped a few centimetres away, still babbling. “And you’ve been the best boyfriend in the world for putting up with all of this, I know I’ve been the worst person alive, you’ve been an angel — cooking, basically running the entire household on your own…” His vision blurred as tears welled, but he bit down hard, even as his voice wavered. He only had one chance to make Ominis stay, and he had to take it. “…and I promise it’ll get better soon, I’ll try to do more around the flat and not just collapse into bed straight away…”

Warm arms wrapped around him.

Even though he knew it would only hurt more later, when they eventually separated, Sebastian leaned into the embrace, breathing in shaky, uneven breaths against Ominis’ neck. He smelled good, like he always did, and the thought that this might be the last time Sebastian ever got to hold him like this made the tears spill over completely.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’ve been a really terrible, inattentive boyfriend, but if you just give me one more chance, I swear it’ll be better. I’ll do anything, just… don’t leave me.”

Ominis’ hand threaded into Sebastian’s hair, cradling the back of his head.

“Sebastian. Sebastian, listen to me.”

Sebastian drew in a shuddering breath and pressed his lips together to stop himself from continuing to ramble. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Ominis was about to say, but he forced himself to listen.

“I’m not going to leave you.”

The words cut through the fog in his head.

Sebastian pulled back slightly, trying to make sense of Ominis’ expression through his still-blurred vision.

“You… you’re not?” he asked, blinking, confused.

Ominis smiled a little uncertainly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle Sebastian like this.

“No.”

Sebastian shifted, not stepping out of the embrace, and glanced over at the suitcase. It was still there, Ominis’ belongings half-unpacked.

It hadn’t been an illusion.

“But… then what about the suitcase?”

“Oh.” Ominis’ cheeks flushed red. He cleared his throat. “I… yes. I thought you were going to get home later today.”

Sebastian didn’t understand a thing. He frowned, and his confusion must have been audible, because Ominis continued.

“There’s no point keeping it a secret anymore. I might as well tell you.”

Right. Sebastian had never been this confused in his life. Had he fallen asleep at his keyboard in Rookwood’s stuffy office and was now having an unusually detailed dream?

“Tell me what?”

Ominis smiled a little crookedly. “I was planning to surprise you with a short holiday. I’ve already made sure you have tomorrow and the weekend completely off. We’re catching a plane to Edinburgh at seven tomorrow morning. I wanted to let you sleep in, but the other tickets were sold out — and you can rest once we get there. We’ll hire a car and drive out to the coast, where I’ve rented a small cottage. And then we can do whatever we like. Or nothing at all. We can go for walks, or to the beach, or stay in and play games and cook. Just the two of us.”

The words sounded like something out of a dream. Sebastian stared at Ominis, hearing what he was saying but not quite able to grasp the meaning of it. It was too good to be true.

“You’re joking.”

Ominis smiled. “No. I’d already started packing my things — and I was in the middle of packing your suitcase as well.” He slipped out of the embrace and patted something by his leg. Sebastian looked down and spotted their second suitcase. His gaze flicked back to the jumpers Ominis still had awkwardly tucked under his arm.

Sebastian’s jumpers.

This couldn’t be real.

“You’re not leaving me.”

Ominis grinned. “No.”

“You’ve planned an entire… weekend getaway. For the two of us.”

“That’s right.”

“But…” Sebastian groped for words, not entirely sure why he was arguing. What Ominis was describing sounded perfect. But—

“Rookwood will never let me take three days off.”

“Good thing he’s already approved it.”

Sebastian stared. “What?”

Ominis smiled again — this time conspiratorial, secretive. “I had a word with Mr Fig.” Mr Fig was Rookwood’s deputy assistant, an older man who seemed to have got stuck at the company without harbouring much fondness for Rookwood himself. Unlike the other corporate zombies, Mr Fig was pleasant, welcoming, and enjoyed chatting with Sebastian when Rookwood wasn’t around. “I told him you’d been feeling extremely overworked and needed a full weekend off. And that we have a funeral this weekend that we have to travel home for — so it lined up perfectly if you could take the whole weekend off.”

Sebastian felt like an owl, capable only of blinking and staring. “And Rookwood bought that?”

Ominis shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what Mr Fig said to him — he may have embellished the truth a little — but it worked.”

Sebastian’s head was spinning. Ominis both looked and sounded like an angel descended to deliver the news that the world had been saved. The memory of his panicked rambling came rushing back, and shame washed over him.

“I’m sorry… I just saw the open suitcase and assumed—”

“It’s okay. I understand how it might have looked. I only wanted to pack your things as well so you wouldn’t have to think about it. We could’ve had dinner together and then gone to bed and— oof!”

Ominis let out a startled sound as Sebastian picked him up and spun him half a turn.

“Put me down!”

Sebastian just laughed, wiping the half-dried tears from his cheeks before setting his indignant boyfriend back on his feet.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” he said, pulling him into a hug. Ominis’ cheeks flushed slightly, but he hugged him back.

“Of course,” he said. “You’ve been working incredibly hard. You deserve it.”

They stood like that for a minute, simply holding each other. Then Sebastian’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence. He pulled back with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry — I should probably grab a sandwich or something. You’ve already eaten, right?”

“There’s actually some Indian takeaway in the fridge,” Ominis admitted, heading towards the kitchen. “I might have sampled a bit of naan, but otherwise I haven’t eaten either.”

Sebastian’s eyes nearly filled with tears again — but this time not from sadness. What had he done in life to deserve Ominis?

“Sit,” he said firmly when they reached the kitchen. “I’ve got this.”

Ominis obeyed. As Sebastian pulled containers of rice, curry, and bread from the fridge and dished them out onto plates to heat up, he glanced over at Ominis, who sat with his phone, listening to something his screen reader was reading aloud. The exhaustion and quiet despair Sebastian had carried for weeks felt as though they’d been blown away.

There was a light in the tunnel — maybe not at the end of it, but somewhere in the middle.

Sebastian took a long swig of his cola and glanced at Ominis, who was stretched out on the sun lounger beside him. He almost looked asleep, but the faint flutter of his eyelids told Sebastian he was awake. One airpod was in, and he was probably listening to some audiobook.

Sebastian looked back out over the lake. The weather wasn’t exactly sun-holiday material, but it was warm enough to lie there in an open shirt and swim shorts. The cabin was remote, surrounded by forest and mountains, and the silence was blissful. Yesterday, they’d gone for a long walk in the woods, then driven into the nearby town to have dinner out and browse the shops. Today, they’d slept in, then dragged a picnic basket and the loungers down to the lake and spent the day lazing there instead.

Sebastian stretched. He felt rested in a way that went beyond simple physical exhaustion. It was as though a constant background noise in his head had finally gone quiet. As if his mind, too, had gone on holiday. Sure, in a few days, he'd be back in that cramped office, once again feeling overwhelmed with deadlines and suffocating, toxic work culture. But hopefully he'd feel reenergized, more clear-headed. And this time, he would know for sure Ominis was going to stand by him the entire him, help him find the light in the tunnel when things felt too dark.

“You’re the best person in the world,” he said to Ominis, whose head rolled slightly to the side to show he was listening.

“Mm?”

“I wouldn’t have survived without you.”

Ominis blushed, taking out the airpod. “Stop it.”

“No, I mean it.” Sebastian sat up on the edge of the lounger. “When I’ve saved up a bit more money, I’m going to buy you something nice. Whatever you want. Is there anything in particular you’re wishing for? A pony?”

Ominis snorted. “What would I do with a pony?”

“Dunno.” Sebastian shrugged, reaching out to take Ominis’ hand. “Name it Sebastian Junior and look after it while I’m at work?”

“And where exactly do you propose we keep Sebastian Junior? In the bedroom?” A smile was tugging at the corner of Ominis’ lips. The outdoors had made the few, scattered freckles on his nose even more prominent. He was, simply put, the most beautiful thing Sebastian knew of.

“Yes, why not? I told you it's a pony. I’m sure he’d fit.”

Ominis rolled his eyes. “Don’t start getting ideas.”

Sebastian dragged his fingers across Ominis’ palm, traced idle circles over the back of his hand, caught his ring finger gently and gave it a light squeeze. “Absolutely not.”