Chapter Text
Abigail can feel the warmth of Sebastian’s back against her chest, her arms wrapped around his abdomen as he rides. All of their belongings are packed in one overstuffed backpack she has slung over her shoulders, her purple hair whipping against it in the wind.
They left Stardew Valley on a whim after Pierre confronted her about hanging around the Wizard’s tower and Robin confiscated Sebastian’s weed.
Both Abigail and Sebastian found themselves angrily venting to each other by the caves, Sebastian taking long drags of a cigarette and Abigail hurling rocks into the lake desperately trying to blow off some steam.
“They treat us like fucking children,” Sebastian spat out, running his fingers through his hair. Abigail enjoyed the rare sight of his forehead for the brief moment it was visible before his bangs fell back into his face. “I have a full-time job and can take care of myself.”
“I’d have a full-time job if I wasn’t expected to help out around the store all the time,” Abigail sighed. “I wish I could just leave this life behind. It’s all a lie, anyway.”
Sebastian took another pull, holding the smoke in his lungs a bit longer than usual. When he let it out, Abigail waved it away. “Let’s get out of here, then.”
Abigail’s eyes lit up, locking with Sebastian. “Are you serious, Seb?”
“Why not?” He shrugged, dropping his cigarette and crushing it with the heel of his boot. “There’s not much left for us here in the valley besides each other.”
“What about Sam?” Abigail asked, voice quiet and small. Sebastian took a deep breath, turning to look at the lake. “We can’t leave without saying goodbye to him, Seb.”
“He’s with Penny now, Abby.” Sebastian sighed, throat going dry. “He doesn’t… need us anymore.”
She thought about it for a beat or two before nodding, placing her hand on her hip with faux confidence. “Then let’s get the hell outta here.”
Sebastian smirked at her. “Go pack and meet me back at my place in 30.”
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Reki stares at the canvas in front of him as if it has personally offended him, the wet paintbrush in his right hand threatening to drip acrylic paint onto his already stained jeans. Langa is laying in the bottom bunk of their bunk bed reading a textbook, which he dramatically lets fall to his face with a groan.
“I hate studying,” Langa mutters, barely audible through the book covering his mouth. “You’re so lucky you’re an art major.”
Reki shoots Langa a glare. Langa has been saying shit like that for months despite witnessing the turmoil Reki goes through on a near daily basis trying to complete his assignments. “This canvas isn’t going to paint itself, Langa.”
“Just paint a circle and say it’s abstract art or something,” Langa sits up, closing his textbook and pushing it aside. “Why are you having such a hard time with this, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Reki admits, shrugging. “Maybe I’m just burnt out.”
“So just paint some fire,” Langa says deadpan, “Assignment complete.”
“I would, but I can’t blow this one,” Reki sighs. In high school, it was easy to just wing assignments he didn’t understand or have time to do - it was easier to bullshit things back then. Now, Reki overthought every stroke of paint he laid down. “It’s, like, half of my final grade.”
“Maybe you need to take a break,” Langa stands up and strolls over to Reki, taking the paintbrush out of his hand. “You’ve been staring at this thing for like an hour.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Reki stretches and rubs his eyes. That was the good thing about dorming with Langa: even though he was always complaining about studying, he knew when to push Reki to take a break. Reki had a tendency to get carried away - put his all into something and ignore the rest of his needs - but Langa was good at bringing him back to reality.
Langa, on the other hand, was constantly craving more than the present situation. It didn’t matter if they were skating, in class, or spending a Friday night eating pizza and watching a movie - Langa was ambitious and craved chaos. He was consistently tempted to text Adam for a rematch and had changed his major a handful of times already despite them not even getting through one semester of college yet, and anytime Reki put on an action film, Langa suggested they go try out the stunts themselves outside.
Langa tosses Reki his jacket and nods towards their door. “Let’s get out of here for a while. Get you some fresh air.”
Reki appreciates the way Langa takes care of him, and he tries to do the same for Langa, being realistic with him and talking him through his bursts of adrenaline in life. They grab their skateboards and head out, skating down the street towards a local skate park. When they were choosing what colleges to apply to, a nearby skate park was a must - and they were lucky enough to both get in.
Langa, of course, gets a little reckless while they skate, deciding to drift into the middle of the road. Reki sees the motorcycle coming and shouts “Langa!” at the top of his lungs, but Langa is so wrapped up in the moment, he doesn’t hear Reki. The motorcycle just misses Langa, speeding past him. Langa loses his balance and falls on his ass, Reki breathing a sigh of relief before running over to him to make sure he’s okay.
The motorcycle slows to a stop and two people hop off, a woman with bright purple hair yanking off her helmet and dropping her backpack on the asphalt before running over to where Reki and Langa are kneeling on the ground.
“Holy shit, are you okay?” She asks, the man she was with slowly joining her. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one, and Reki notices Langa stare. He recalled the first time they smoked together, having to listen to Langa gush about Adam making smoking hot.
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“Thought I ran over Emily for a second there,” Sebastian chuckles, nodding towards the person he almost hit, who is still on the ground. Abigail rolls her eyes, kneeling down to join the two strangers with skateboards.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Abigail looks them over to ensure they’re both unharmed. “We’ve been on the road for hours. Seb’s even more exhausted than he looks.”
“No problem,” the one with blue hair stands, reaches out his hand to help the redhead up, and then dusts himself off. Abigail stands, too.
Sebastian can’t help but examine them from his spot behind Abigail, just a few feet away but far enough that he feels disconnected from the conversation. The one with blue hair looks soft yet calloused, while the redhead seems slightly lost, staring at Abigail like he’s never seen a woman before. “Where are you two headed?”
“Anywhere,” Abigail replies, shrugging. She glances over her shoulder at Sebastian, who takes a drag of his cigarette. He doesn’t say anything, so she turns back to the two strangers. “My name’s Abigail, by the way. That’s Sebastian.”
“Reki,” the redhead finally speaks, holding out a hand covered in dried paint and bandaids. Abigail is slightly taken aback at his politeness, shifting awkwardly before taking his hand and shaking it. “And that’s Langa.”
Sebastian continues studying them while he smokes and Abigail chats. Langa keeps glancing at him, their eyes locking, and Sebastian finds himself curious. Reki, on the other hand, is incredibly interested in what Abigail has to say, which is mostly just what they’ve been up to for the last few hours: riding, pissing on the side of the road, and living off of granola bars.
“Your shirt,” Sebastian finally speaks, interrupting the conversation to point at Reki’s t-shirt, which reads ‘Dope Sketch.’ “You selling?”
“Huh?” Reki scrunches his eyebrows. “Why do you want to buy my shirt?”
“I don't think he’s talking about your shirt, Reki,” Langa laughs and Reki blushes, Abigail holding back a giggle.
Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Why would I want to buy your shirt?”
“That’s what I’m wondering,” Reki stammers, glancing from Langa to Abigail for some kind of reassurance or answer. Neither clarifies the conversation despite clearly knowing what’s going on, and Reki is left confused as Sebastian loses his patience.
“Dope. Weed. Pot. Marijuana. Do you have any?” Sebastian points at Reki’s shirt again, spelling it out. Reki’s face goes red, nearly as bright as his hair, and both Langa and Abigail burst out into a fit of giggles.
“No, no,” Reki waves his hands in front of him, “That’s not what this means! Dope Sketch is the name of the store I work at.”
“Do you sell weed there?” Abigail asks jokingly, unable to not laugh at her own joke. “Or art supplies?”
“We sell skateboards,” Reki crosses his arms over his chest. “I am an art major, though, so if you need art supplies…”
“I don’t care about skateboards or art supplies,” Sebastian finally cracks a smile, finding it hard to believe how much the conversation derailed. “I just want some weed.”
“I know someone,” Langa reaches into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, scrolling through his contacts. “Reki, do you know if Miya is still dealing?”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure he is, yeah,” Reki shrugs. “If not, we can try Shadow.”
“I don’t know why you’re so concerned with finding drugs when we actually need somewhere to sleep, Seb,” Abigail points out, looking around them. It’s early evening, but they haven’t slept and Sebastian is in no shape to continue riding.
“You can try the love hotel a couple blocks away,” Reki suggests, Langa stepping away from the group to talk to Miya on the phone. Reki looks from Abigail to Sebastian, and then back to Abigail. “It’s a great option for couples.”
“Oh, no, we aren’t a couple,” Abigail nervously shakes her head, “He’s just, you know, my best friend.”
“Oh,” Reki says, a wave of relief washing over his face. “Yeah, uh, us too.” He points a thumb at Langa, who is in the middle of hanging up his phone. He winces at Reki’s comment and tries to hide it, but Sebastian notices and raises an eyebrow.
“Miya’s on his way,” Langa slides his phone into his back pocket.
“Cool,” Sebastian says before putting out his cigarette. He yanks off his black sweatshirt and tosses it over his shoulder, revealing the charcoal v-neck he’s wearing underneath. He catches Langa staring for a second and shoots him a wink. “Thanks, man.”
“No problem,” Langa stammers. Abigail knowingly side-eyes Sebastian.
“Reki, why don’t you walk me to the hotel while they wait for your friend? I’ll drop off our stuff and get us a room,” she suggests, grabbing Sebastian’s sweatshirt from his shoulders and stuffing it into her backpack.
“Yeah, sure,” Reki beams at her, nodding to Langa. “I’ll meet you back home, dude?”
“That works,” Langa shrugs and Reki gestures for Abigail to follow him, skateboard in hand. Sebastian points at Langa’s skateboard.
“Wanna race back to your place?” Sebastian asks, something between joking, challenging, and flirting in his voice. Langa’s eyes light up like he’s a kid on Christmas.
“You skate?”
“No,” Sebastian laughs, turning towards his motorcycle. “Remember? The thing I almost ran you over with?”
“That just seems unfair,” Langa strolls over to the motorcycle with Sebastian, who hands Langa the helmet Abigail had been wearing. Langa turns it over in his hands for a moment, and Sebastian takes the time to study his face. Light, angular features. Soft powder-blue hair. Turquoise eyes. Langa is pretty in a way Sebastian is not used to seeing in men; Stardew Valley had its fair share of attractive men, but none that exuded Langa’s particular delicate masculinity. “But I accept.”
“Huh?” Sebastian is snapped back to reality as Langa hands him the helmet back, settling himself on his board and smirking. “Are you crazy?”
“Yes,” Sebastian swears Langa licks his lips when he says it. “Turn at the light. I’m the last building on the left.”
Sebastian hesitates, but inevitably secures his helmet and gets on his motorcycle. They silently count down and before they know it, are racing down the street. And Langa’s winning.