It’s after a family dinner in Boston, the sun setting turning the sky a mixture of reds and oranges and purples, and Scott and Chris are outside, leaning against the side of the building while their mom goes to the bathroom. Chris has just broken the news that he’s going to be going to Paris for a few weeks, and mom had gotten all excited - her boy, filming in Paris, what movie? Chris had just laughed and shook his head, telling her that he was just visiting, wanted a break and decided on Paris. Everyone else bought it, but Scott knew better; he kept things on the up, he did his research, and more than that, he knew his brother.
“So, Paris, huh?”
“Yeah,” Chris affirms, arching his back against the building and stretching a little. “Should be fun. Never been there before.”
“And there’s no particular reason why you’re going there, just - pointed at the map and said, ‘Paris, that’s where it’s at’?”
Chris shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking around at some of the people that pass them by. Scott almost wants to laugh, because his brother is so transparent. Chris never does anything random, though he’s sure other people would like to believe that; he does everything with a careful deliberateness, everything’s a conscious choice.
“You going to Paris wouldn’t have anything to do with your friend and fellow actor Sebastian Stan filming in France for that miniseries, would it?” he asks casually, kicking a cigarette butt on the curb and watching as it rolls into the gutter, and then glances over at his brother, who appears to have frozen in place.
Chris looks up at him, blue eyes wide and kind of confused, like he’s not really sure what he’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t; Scott just shakes his head, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says quietly as their mother walks out of the restaurant and looks around for them, waving as she spots them and starts over. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Sebastian is surprised when Chris shows up at the door to his flat in Paris, leaning against the doorframe, grinning lazily. He’s not too sure why Sebastian is surprised, the other man had told him the address of his flat and even how long he was going to be in the city, but maybe Sebastian was talking himself into thinking it was unlikely, just in case he didn’t show up, so he wasn’t disappointed. Chris knew how that was; it’s what he’d done a few months previous when he’d been filming in Boston and he’d invited Sebastian to come up, but just like now, the other man had shown up on his doorstep and he’d been ecstatic.
“Hey, you,” he murmurs, nudging his suitcase with his foot lightly, hefting his carry-on bag in his hand a little. “Heard Paris was the place to be this week.”
Sebastian grins, wide and honest, his blue eyes practically glowing with how happy he is. “Yeah,” he replies. “Paris is the place to be.” He curls a hand around the back of Chris’ neck, pulling him into his flat, already leaning up to kiss him. Chris returns the kiss eagerly, sighing into Sebastian’s mouth - it’s been far too long, and he’s missed this, but he’s having trouble maneuvering his suitcase in, and he ends up laughing against Sebastian’s mouth, the other man pulling away only to grab Chris’ suitcase and pulling the door shut, locking it before he turns back to Chris, grinning real big.
He kicks off his shoes and tosses his hat and jacket onto the couch, his carry-on bag falling to his feet. There’s a balcony, the curtains flowing in the breeze, a nice view of the city and the Eiffel Tower right there. He and Sebastian look at each other for a few moments, and then they’re practically lunging for each other, their mouths colliding, hands scrabbling against each other. God, it feels so good, Chris can’t believe that he’s gone this long without Sebastian, and he’s so glad that he came to Paris - Sebastian has a week and a half off after filming in Carcassone and before he goes with the rest of the cast to film in Cape Town, South Africa. A week and a half’s respite, and Chris plans on staying for all of it.
Before he knows what’s happening, Sebastian is pulling him to the bedroom, and they’re pulling their shirts off before coming in close again, Chris’ hands curling along the side of Sebastian’s neck, thumbs rubbing along the sharp line of his jaw as he comes in for another kiss. He licks slowly into his friend’s mouth, tangles their tongues together and fairly whimpers at the feel of it. How has he gone this long? It’s a question he keeps asking himself, and one that he’s sure will make reappearances over the next week and a half. Sebastian’s hands are smoothing over his back, his sides, pressing as close as possible and then, surprisingly, still kissing Chris, the younger man works on undoing the button and zip of Chris’ jeans.
Chris groans at the sensation, his cock already half-hard from the kissing and the rush of physical relief and emotion that comes from just being in Sebastian’s presence. He moves to do the same for Sebastian, only to realize that he’s already in his boxers - how did he not realize this before? That should have been the first thing he noticed - he’s a rather big fan of Sebastian Stan sans pants, or even sans everything else, and before he can stop himself, Chris is tugging at the fabric, pushing it down over the swell of his rear, and Sebastian whines, kicking them off and then frowning at the fact that Chris himself is still in his jeans and shorts.
“Oh - sorry-”
And he quickly worms his way out of them, kicking them away somewhere across the room. He takes a moment to look Sebastian over, biting at his bottom lip at how gorgeous this man is, every single inch of him, and the best (or worst) part is that Sebastian doesn’t even see it. Of course, Sebastian would argue the same about Chris, who’s been known to call himself a physical disappointment.
“Baz,” he says hoarsely, stepping in and nuzzling the other man before kissing him slowly, framing his face in his hands. “Fuck, I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” Sebastian says, voice low, his hands smoothing over Chris’ back to his ass, gripping firmly and then pulling him forward, the two of them tumbling to the smooth white sheets of the bed, Chris still on top. They grind together slowly, until the both of them are fully hard and gasping when their hips move at just the right way. This is heaven for both of them, for they haven’t met in any such way for a long time, and they’ve kind of been starving for it, desire itching under their skin for longer than they’d both care to say.
“God,” Chris moans, bracing his hands by Sebastian’s shoulders as he rocks against him, every contact feeling so amazingly good.
“Sorry, he’s not here right now,” Sebastian replies, giving him a cheeky if breathless grin. Chris rolls his eyes good-naturedly, rolling the two of them over so that Sebastian’s on top, and he shifts to sit astride Chris’ hips, running his hands over his chest reverently as he sways his hips, helped along by Chris’ hands.
“Good thing I only want you, then,” he murmurs, grinning up at Sebastian.
“Yes,” Sebastian agrees. “It’s very good.”
He leans down, kissing Chris slowly, but with intent.
They alternate making love and fucking for the rest of the day, and it’s only when the moon and stars are already out that they even pause, resting a little though they both know that they’ll go a few more times before they bother to get up and shower, or even eat a little before falling back into bed and falling asleep. The museums and monuments, the cafes and tree-lined walkways, it would all wait; all that Chris and Sebastian needed in the immediate present was each other.