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All his life, Sebastian had liked girls. He remembered his first childhood crush quite clearly — back then, he and Anne were still living with their parents in Aranshire, and every time his mother took him along to the market, he couldn’t take his eyes off the fair-haired girl, the fruit seller’s daughter. Even years later he still remembered her shy smile in return, and the warm, but strangely fizzy, bubbling feeling in his chest that made him blush and bury his face in his mother’s skirt.
After that, he didn’t like anyone for a long time, and he preferred to think it had been a conscious decision. It was a period when he believed all girls were silly. Except Anne, perhaps — simply because he had never really thought of her as a girl.
The next time he fell in love was during his first year at Hogwarts. He wasn’t particularly clever then, so he felt embarrassed that he fancied Cressida Blume because she was a Gryffindor. Sebastian had no idea why he found it easy and comfortable to be friends with people from other houses, but having a crush on a Gryffindor seemed somehow shameful. Fortunately, those prejudices didn’t last past his first year.
Cressida struck him as incredibly knowledgeable, since they kept running into each other in the library. He liked her curly hair and the way she always smelled of jasmine.
He never did confess his feelings to her, though later he sometimes wondered whether she might have liked him too. She blushed whenever they spoke and sometimes dropped her book in flustered embarrassment. But Sebastian truly wasn’t especially clever back then, so he failed to put two and two together and didn't understand a thing at the time.
Sebastian matured early, at least physically. He took an interest in what lay between his legs early, as well as in the differences between boys and girls. The number of times he had to awkwardly hide a hard-on, burning with embarrassment, was beyond counting — as were the nights he spent exploring the new possibilities of his cock, indulging in memories of… well, anything, really. Once he became aroused just by looking at a statue, so it didn’t much matter what he was thinking about when he touched himself.
From his second to his fourth year, he fancied quite a few people — and they were always girls. His first kiss happened at thirteen with Samantha Dale, and they even tried dating, though it lasted only a couple of weeks. At fourteen, Sacharissa Tugwood let him touch her breasts through her clothes while they were making out in a broom cupboard — and at the time it felt like the most vivid sexual experience of his life. He genuinely thought he would rub the skin off his palms, from how often he masturbated to that memory afterwards.
It was always girls. Which is why, at fifteen years old, when Sebastian woke up in his own semen after an erotic dream starring his best friend, it was a shocking revelation. It wasn’t as though he’d never had bizarre erotic dreams before. He would never forget the one involving Professor Weasley and enchanted brushes. Yes, he felt mortified for several weeks attending Transfiguration after that, but he knew perfectly well he wasn’t actually attracted to Professor Weasley. His mind had simply decided to play a cruel joke on him, that was all.
The dream featuring Ominis Gaunt was different. Or rather, it made Sebastian feel different. The feeling didn’t go away once the morning ended. It didn’t go away in the afternoon or by evening. It clung to him like a sticky, suffocating shadow, far more real than the aftertaste of any other strange dream he’d ever had.
That day, Sebastian had to pretend to be ill so he could remain alone in the privacy of his bed after lunch, hide from everyone, from Ominis, and attempt to swallow the lump of conflicting emotions lodged in his throat. If it had been nothing more than a dream — a trick of the mind beyond his control — then why couldn’t he simply laugh it off and carry on as before? Why did the mere sight of Ominis now send a surge of embarrassment, arousal, and panicked fear coursing through him?
It was still Ominis. The very same boy who had caught his attention in their first year during the Sorting Ceremony, being the only one who looked lost, even upset, when he heard the Sorting Hat’s verdict. Sebastian eyed each new Slytherin with hungry interest — these were to be his friends for seven whole years (at least, he genuinely wanted to befriend them all). Ominis had an unusual name, a notoriously infamous surname, and an expression that was at odds with the joy of the other students. And on top of that, he was blind.
Somehow, all of that hadn’t just caught Sebastian’s attention — it had seized it completely. There was something fragile and delicate about Ominis, as though he were a thread pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. Sebastian had never before felt any urge to rescue anyone, yet his heart gave a painful lurch — not like when he was six and in love with that girl in Aranshire. Sharper. Like a prick. He simply knew that he needed, that he absolutely had to speak to Ominis, share his pumpkin pie with him, find out why being sorted into Slytherin had upset him so deeply, and perhaps even try to make him smile.
They became friends so quickly it felt like they always had been. They complemented each other perfectly — Ominis cooled his temper and stopped him from acting rashly, while Sebastian encouraged him to loosen his grip sometimes, to give in to his desires and emotions.
With Anne, the three of them were unstoppable. It was as though the twins had been missing him, like the final piece in a perfectly fitted mechanism, and even when Ominis wrinkled his nose at their proposed mischief, he always ended up taking an active part. In those moments when they ran through empty corridors after curfew, doing their best to stifle their laughter to avoid the prefects, it was hard to believe he was ever that sad boy at the Sorting Ceremony. Just as it was when he unexpectedly came up with the maddest yet most brilliant scheme to teach Leander a lesson for calling Sebastian a country bumpkin during Potions.
It was still that same Ominis. But Sebastian would be damned if he said his eye hadn’t started twitching every time he saw him after that erotic dream.
And he saw him every day.
Sebastian had known Ominis for five years, but he had never once considered that his best friend might be handsome, or even sexy. Well, for most of their friendship they had been children, so it had made sense. But they weren’t children anymore.
The moment his heart told him to approach that boy in the Great Hall, it hadn’t been just impulse. Ominis had captivated him with something – his otherness, his grace. Sebastian never stopped being captivated; the feeling had never left. But admiring his friend had seemed normal, something he had never examined too closely before.
Before. His life had literally split into a before and after that bloody dream.
He always had liked girls. They had lovely voices, they smelled wonderful, and beneath their clothes was what had always held his unwavering interest. It was a constant — something he was sure of. Ominis was most definitely not a girl. And yet now Sebastian noticed he almost always smelled of lavender soap rather than the sweat most boys their age reeked of; that he spoke his name with a soft, almost sensual breath no one else possessed; and that he, too, had grown up — his shoulders broader now, his school shirt sitting differently on him, stretching exactly where it ought to. Beautifully.
Objectively, Ominis had become very beautiful.
Sebastian truly couldn’t understand how he could like girls and Ominis Gaunt at the same time. It wasn’t just wrong — it felt repulsive. It felt bad. Bad. Boys could not love boys. He wanted so much to speak to someone about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to raise the subject even with Anne. She would never despise him, of course, but ordinary words of sympathy would solve nothing. Sebastian was used to sharing almost everything with his sister, but this… this felt so deeply personal and shameful that he simply couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t tell anyone.
Time passed. Sebastian tried to shove his inappropriate feelings for Ominis somewhere deep inside, but no matter how he tried, it never quite worked. He still liked girls, he truly did. From his fifth year through to the end of his sixth, he had been desperate to find himself a partner, as though that might help him forget the dream and the intrusive thoughts that had followed him ever since. As though it might make him normal again. Fix him, because clearly something inside him had broken that day — some essential part that made him normal.
He still liked girls. But when he watched Ominis arrange his hair in the mornings — those long fingers sliding confidently through fair strands, the way he bit his lower lip in concentration — Sebastian would suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to cry or… to turn into his damned hair, so that those fingers would touch him instead — stroke, caress, run through. Such desires were hard to ignore; they itched deep beneath his skin, impossible to reach however hard he tried.
It happened too often: little moments, details, glimpses he now involuntarily noticed and carefully collected inside. The way sunlight reflected in Ominis’ blue eyes, making them look like glass, like cracked sheets of ice over frozen puddles in early spring. His melodic laugh at Sebastian’s jokes (oh, how he longed to be funny for him as often as possible). The way he sat cross-legged on the floor in the Undercroft and somehow seemed so small and defenceless that Sebastian struggled to restrain the impulse to hug him, to simply wrap his arms around him, pull him close and… he didn’t even know what else. But he wanted to, unbearably.
Sebastian had no idea whether Ominis liked anyone. He had never shown interest in anyone and ignored every attempt to win his favour. There were girls at Hogwarts who whispered about Ominis with infatuation, and though there were fewer of them than those who fancied Sebastian (it was foolish, but he felt a strange pride and dubious pleasure in that fact), they still existed. Ominis paid them no attention. He received Valentines on St Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t react to those either. If only he had shown the slightest embarrassment or any other feeling, but… no. He accepted the Valentines with an unreadable expression, never throwing them away immediately — for apparently he did have a heart after all — but he never replied and never gave anyone a Valentine himself.
Ominis seemed to have no interest in romance at all, and that bothered Sebastian, forcing him to puzzle over it. He had no idea whether it was even possible for someone to like absolutely no one. But at the same time, that fact brought him relief. Ominis having no romantic relationships was far better than if he were with someone, and Sebastian would have been torn to pieces by poisonous jealousy.
He never dared ask Ominis about it directly. Yes, they were best friends, they shared much, but there were things Ominis preferred to keep to himself. Sebastian sincerely tried to respect that. And he was also afraid of the answer, whatever it might be. So he stayed silent. Silent — and slowly losing his mind.
Sebastian tried to find himself a relationship, to become taken with someone, but nothing ever quite worked. In the end, he resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t have any more experience with girls, because ever since he let his feelings for Ominis take root in his heart, he wanted no one as fiercely as him. He tried, he really did, but everything felt false and bland, and though the girls who had captivated him all his life remained just as alluring and wonderful, he couldn’t rid his mind of thoughts of one particular person alone.
What do Ominis’ lips taste like? Are they as soft as the lips of the girls he had kissed before?
What does his body feel like if he presses his hands against him, if he slipped beneath his clothes and touched where he had never had the courage to go?
What does he sound like when he feels good? How does he smile at the one he loves? What is it even like — to be with a boy in that particular way boys aren’t supposed to think about?
Sebastian was desperate. The only thing that could distract him from that endless stream of thoughts was his studies. So he buried himself in them as he knew best — the NEWTs were fast approaching, and he genuinely loved learning. No more distractions in the form of indecent thoughts about his best friend. No more emotional torment. Only classes, homework, and endless hours spent in the library.
During the day. At night, however, Sebastian pursued a very different kind of study.
There was still so much unspent energy in him, so much arousal and inner heat straining inside him. There seemed to be even more of it now, because he had nowhere to release everything that was building up. At night Sebastian touched himself, and the curiosity that always manifested so strongly in the realm of academic knowledge shone no less brightly here.
One evening, in the middle of such research, he discovered something entirely new within him, and that discovery changed him forever. Never in his life would he have imagined that if he slipped a finger inside while pleasuring himself, it would feel so startlingly good. But it did. At first he was frightened — it was like crossing a line, something so shameful and indecent that doing it even alone felt almost forbidden. But, of course, curiosity prevailed. And so he continued, burning with embarrassment, timidly and carefully exploring the part of his body he had never considered touching in such a context.
Never had his orgasms been so intense. Sebastian simply surrendered and trusted his instinct, and soon it was no longer one finger inside his arse, but two, and even three. From then on, there was always a small bottle of oil in his bedside drawer, and in his mind lived a new fantasy — the most depraved and terrifying of all. A fantasy in which it was not his fingers inside him at all, but a cock. Always Ominis’ cock, and no one else’s.
It was so easy to sneak looks at Ominis when he changed or washed. Sebastian honestly tried to stop himself — it was utterly wrong towards a friend — but he still saw things. Small fragments: the slight ridge of the spine along his back, the dusting of tiny moles (Sebastian would have sold his soul to find out whether they really were everywhere), the pallor of his skin, as if sunlight had never touched it. In a sense that was true — Ominis couldn’t remain in the sun for even half an hour; his skin would redden and begin to itch straight away. With his own sun-kissed face, Sebastian found it almost amusing.
He had never seen his cock. Or rather, perhaps he had, once, when they were children, and then of course it had meant nothing to him. He hadn’t seen that part of Ominis since losing his mind over him, and inside him two forces were constantly at war — the urge to look and his conscience. Sebastian had never before been interested in cocks, and the thoughts about it themselves were something new, another form of heated shame. He just wanted to know how big it was, what shape it was, what it felt like. Was it larger than his own, and if so, by how much? Sebastian hadn’t really looked at other boys’ cocks since he hit puberty, but what little he’d seen made it clear he was hardly the most gifted when it came to that. No, it wasn’t exactly bad, but… Sebastian preferred not to dwell on it.
Would Ominis like what he found between his legs, if one day he touched him there? Or would he laugh in his face and say it was not enough?
Sebastian simply learned to live with it. He pretended everything was fine, that he was the same person he had always been, but in truth he didn’t know who he was anymore. Who was he if beneath the cover of night he moaned and whimpered, touching himself like that, imagining male hands on him, imagining a man inside him? Who was he if all his life he’d dreamed of building a family — finding a wife and having children with her — and now his dreams were so filthy and indecent that no woman in the world would even look at him if she knew of them? Everything he knew about himself crumbled to dust before his eyes, and he just stood there watching, with no idea what to do.
He stopped trying to deny this horrific fact to himself: he was in love with his best friend, with a man, and he had fallen as far as he could possibly fall. But he could no longer stop.
***
At the beginning of seventh year, the thought occurred to Sebastian for the first time not as a fantasy but as a fully formed idea.
To ask Ominis to fuck him.
Yes, it sounded absolutely insane, but Sebastian had thought it through: he would present it just as an act of self-exploration; Ominis would gain experience from it too, if he happened to be interested in not remaining a virgin until the end of his days; and besides, there was simply no one else he could ask — Ominis was his closest friend, the person he could trust, the one who would understand.
And of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Sebastian had been hopelessly in love with him for two years and couldn’t even imagine anyone else in that role. There was no need to go into that.
Yes, he was completely desperate. Yes, he just couldn’t let go of these dreams and become a normal person again. Perhaps if they did it, he would calm down and be able to move on. Perhaps he could become who he used to be — someone decent and good. Someone not in love with his best friend and not imagining his cock in his arse.
And friends could, after all, do something like this — they’d known each other for seven years by now, and surely they were capable of dealing with any awkwardness afterwards, treating it as an experiment rather than something shameful or complicated by feelings. Sebastian couldn’t stop thinking about it.
From the moment the idea first took hold, he couldn’t rid himself of it. Insane as it was, it seemed safe enough. At the very least, Ominis would never tell anyone, even if he refused. Ominis could keep secrets; he was a wonderful friend. Besides, in theory Sebastian could imagine twisting it into a stupid joke if Ominis found the suggestion entirely inappropriate.
So Sebastian resolved to do it.
It took all his willpower, as well as several swallows of contraband Firewhisky for courage, but he found Ominis in the Slytherin common room, sitting on the floor by the fire reading a book charmed into Braille, and dropped down on his knees beside him, determined to finally ask.
Now or never. Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous. This was Ominis — his best friend, the one who knew even a little more about him than Anne did. The one who had always listened to him complain about an endless string of romantic interests, the one who supported him when he was rejected, the one who knew how pathetic he could be. And yet this was something entirely different. Sebastian was on the verge of giving up — running away and hiding in the boys’ dormitory.
“I’ve been thinking about something lately,” he began cautiously, and Ominis’ finger stilled on the page. “I’ve had an idea. I know it will sound strange, but… I’d like to try it. As an experiment. And I can only ask you this, because you’re my best friend, you understand?”
Ominis closed the book and turned his whole body towards Sebastian, raising his eyebrows in question. It wasn’t in his nature to speak unless he had to, and he was clearly waiting for Sebastian to continue.
Sebastian drew in a heavy breath, feeling his chest tighten with fear. Now or never.
“Will you fuck me? I mean… I want to know what it feels like. A cock. Inside,” he blurted out almost in one breath, feeling his cheeks burn.
Ominis was silent, and worst of all Sebastian couldn’t read his expression.
“All right,” he said finally.
And nothing more. Simply “all right” as though he were agreeing to a walk to Hogsmeade rather than sex with his best friend. Sebastian faltered, utterly unprepared for such a response. He had expected he might have to persuade him, to explain. That he would be met with shock or even disgust. But not a simple “all right” said in an ordinary tone.
“All right?” he repeated stupidly.
Ominis nodded.
“Yes. Why not?”
Sebastian should have been glad — wasn’t this what he had dreamed of? That Ominis would agree, that he wouldn’t consider him vile or disgusting, that he wouldn’t assume he had feelings for him. Why then did it make him feel sick that to Ominis this request didn’t seem to warrant any emotion at all?
He cleared his throat awkwardly and rubbed his nose with his sleeve. The absurdity of Ominis’ reaction unsettled him. He hadn’t prepared any lines for this scenario.
“Well, yes. Right,” he muttered.
“When would you like to do it?” Ominis asked, as if not noticing his confusion.
“Er, I don’t know… tonight?”
A small smile touched Ominis’ lips.
“Great. In the Undercroft after curfew?”
Sebastian nodded. Then winced. He almost never forgot himself like that around Ominis — voicing every small detail had become a habit over years of friendship. But he was so shaken by this conversation that he had even forgotten that silent nodding was pointless with Ominis.
“Yes, agreed,” he managed, rising to his feet.
His whole body felt wooden as he walked out of the common room. Somewhere, anywhere.
“In the Undercroft after curfew” sounded far too familiar — it was something they did often. Practised spells, chatted idly, played Gobstones together with Anne, or prepared for midterms. There had always been something thrilling in breaking curfew in a hidden place, sharing a secret.
And now Ominis had casually suggested having sex there. It was logical — where else could they? Not in the shared dormitory — but… Sebastian couldn’t make sense of what he felt. If Anne ever found out, she would lose her mind. He really hoped she’d never find out.
***
Sebastian spent the rest of the day wrapped in anxiety. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself. Even if Ominis was a virgin as well, even if he couldn’t see him during the act — it was still Ominis. The one Sebastian spent two years sighing over, the one he had become quite literally obsessed with. The one whose name was on his lips when he came at night so violently, the one who now appeared in his dreams far too often, and those dreams were much more explicit than the very first one that started it all.
Sebastian spent an indecently long time in the bathroom that evening. He had never been a perfectionist, but this was different. Everything had to be perfect. Over those two years he had already figured out where to get everything he needed for preparation, and he had the required potions. Thank Merlin no one ever asked any questions in that shop, though Sebastian still visited it only with his hood pulled low over his face, just in case.
They met in the common room as usual — Sebastian waited for Ominis, seated in one of the far armchairs, hidden in the dark. He was nervous. He was more nervous than ever, and the moment he saw Ominis descending the stairs he sprang to his feet. Part of him hoped Ominis would oversleep and not come. It was absurd, considering how long he had dreamed of what would happen that night. Could Ominis be playing some kind of joke, only to laugh at him once they reached the Undercroft? Of course not — but the idea kept circling in Sebastian’s mind, making cold sweat bead on his skin at the mere thought.
“Ominis,” he stood up from the chair and stepped towards him, facing the pulsing red glow of his wand in the half-light.
Ominis smiled in response and extended his free hand to him. As usual. Everything was as usual. Sebastian took his hand.
And yet perhaps not entirely as usual — it seemed to him that tonight Ominis’ hand was a little colder, and faintly trembling. Though Sebastian couldn’t be certain it wasn’t simply another trick of his own mind.
“Let’s go,” he whispered, leading him along. He desperately wanted to seem confident.
The Undercroft greeted them with enchanted candles that never went out and the familiar, comforting scent of wood and dust. It always looked the same, and there was something soothing in that. In the corner stood the sofa they had once dragged down there after first transfiguring it into a mug. Anne’s idea, of course — at some point she’d grown tired of sitting on the cold stone floor. Sebastian would never even have thought of it, and Ominis had always seemed perfectly content to sit on the floor. At least, he did so constantly throughout the castle, ignoring sofas, chairs and armchairs altogether.
Now that sofa was a real blessing. Not that Sebastian would have refused sex with Ominis only because they would have had to do it on the floor — but still, he was grateful for the presence of actual furniture.
They stood awkwardly near the entrance, and Sebastian felt a surge of relief when he suddenly noticed something like nervousness on Ominis’ face. At last — something. The fact remained that he had agreed like it was perfectly ordinary — but now, seeing that flicker of emotion in his face, Sebastian felt better. Maybe Ominis simply hid his feelings well. Maybe he… didn’t think it was nothing. Maybe he, too, was anxious.
“May I kiss you?” Ominis asked softly, unexpectedly.
Sebastian’s legs trembled.
“Yes, I… don’t mind,” he replied, making every effort not to say something pathetic instead, like: please, please, I’m begging you, kiss me.
And then Ominis did. In a slightly clumsy gesture he extended the hand that was still clutching his wand, then stepped closer and found Sebastian’s lips.
For a moment it struck Sebastian as strange — how good Ominis was at kissing. He had never been with anyone, right? Sebastian would have known. Ominis could be secretive, but they were best friends, and Sebastian had fixated on him so intensely over the past few years that he would surely have noticed if there had been someone. Right?
Ominis tasted like mint toothpaste. He wrapped his free arm around Sebastian’s waist, kissing him a little too eagerly, too desperately for something that was supposed to be just an experiment, and his tongue slipped inside, making Sebastian let out a soft sound he wasn’t proud of.
Ominis was too good at this — though perhaps it only seemed that way to Sebastian because it was Ominis. Because it was his warm lips, his tongue, his fingers gripping Sebastian’s shirt and digging into the skin at his side.
It was nothing like kissing a girl at all — he could feel the prickle of Ominis’ day-old stubble scratching his cheeks, and for some reason that small detail made his head spin. As if it made everything completely real. He was truly kissing him. His friend. A man. He had never even seen Ominis without a clean-shaven face. He hadn’t even realised he’d started shaving. It was logical, of course, Merlin — Ominis was exactly his age — and yet Sebastian was very impressed by the discovery.
It was Ominis who guided them towards the sofa. Had it not been for him, Sebastian wouldn’t have remembered what they had come there to do, he was so consumed by those lips on his own. He allowed himself to be nudged down onto the cushions and wrapped his arms around Ominis so that he would sit as well, pulling him close like he might vanish. Ominis clearly had no intention of vanishing. He continued to kiss him, exploring his body with his hands, stroking and squeezing so perfectly that Sebastian forgot how to breathe. It was too much. Too much, too intense, too bright. Sebastian prayed to every deity he could recall from Muggle Studies lessons not to come in his trousers just from a tongue in his mouth and hands on his body.
When Ominis pulled back, his face was flushed and his eyes wide open. He was breathing hard. Sebastian had never seen him like that. In love? He mentally slapped himself for even thinking of the word. Aroused, more likely. Nothing like the Ominis he thought he knew. How well did he know him after all?
“May I?…” Ominis interrupted the chaotic stream of his thoughts, his hands finding the collar of Sebastian’s shirt.
Sebastian struggled to remember how to speak.
“Yes,” he answered simply, incapable of forming a more complex sentence.
Ominis smiled — and that tiny smile seemed to drive Sebastian entirely mad.
His fingers deftly began undoing the buttons, and Sebastian could have sworn he would have done far worse himself, even with his sight. His hands trembled, and he, god, he was so nervous, he wanted him so badly. So he didn’t even attempt to help, only watching, entranced, as the shirt fell open wider and wider, buttons slipping obediently free beneath Ominis’ hands. Sebastian wanted to be those buttons.
The shirt slid to the floor with a quiet rustle, exposing his chest and stomach. Ominis exhaled shakily, as if he had truly seen something — seen him — and though it was foolish and ridiculous, Sebastian flushed and broke out in goosebumps at the sound alone.
He wanted to say something to fill the silence between them. He wanted to do something so he wouldn’t act like a hopelessly inexperienced idiot. But nothing was like it had been with girls. Nothing was like it had been in his erotic dreams.
Everything was… sharper. Scarier. But more pleasurable. Millions of times more pleasurable, and it literally took his breath away.
And then Ominis’ hands settled on Sebastian’s shoulders, his thumbs gently stroking the hollows of his collarbones. And then his lips boldly found his neck, kissing, nipping, licking. Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut, finally breaking out of his daze and wrapping his arms around Ominis, pulling him closer. He was still fully dressed. Sebastian was still incapable of fixing that.
“Are you all right?” Ominis asked against his neck, for some inexplicable reason, while his hands kept stroking him, drifting lower, sliding over Sebastian’s chest, brushing his nipples, tickling along his ribs.
Sebastian could no longer form words, so he made a small sound of agreement. Thank the gods that was enough for Ominis. One of his hands settled on Sebastian’s thigh, the other spread across his stomach, fingers splayed as though he wanted to cover it entirely.
And then that same hand slipped lower without warning and grasped Sebastian’s cock through the fabric of his trousers. Sebastian drew in a sharp breath, flinching. Ominis didn’t ask any more questions. He simply unfastened his trousers and tugged them down together with his underwear, leaving Sebastian completely naked before him.
“Turn around,” Ominis said, stroking his thighs in slow, light movements, and Sebastian wanted to believe he just couldn’t bear to take his hands away. They were still cold. And very soft.
Sebastian obediently turned, rising onto all fours on the sofa. His cheeks burned, and it was absurd, but he had never felt so… free. So open, so dirty, so depraved, so available. His cock leaked pre-cum and ached with arousal, but he ignored it, because he knew that if he touched himself, he wouldn’t last a minute. Not when his most secret fantasies were becoming reality. Not when Ominis was tracing his back with his hands for reasons Sebastian couldn’t quite understand, slowly running the tips of his fingers along his spine, then gripping his hips again.
“Do you have…?”
Sebastian didn’t ask for clarification; he already knew what Ominis meant. He quickly reached for his trousers on the floor and pulled out the small bottle of oil from the pocket. Without a word he placed it in his hand. Ominis nodded and smiled again, and Sebastian’s heart, already pounding somewhere in his throat, clenched painfully. Beautiful. He was too beautiful. It was unbearable. He could say nothing, do nothing — just smile — and Sebastian would give him anything in the world. Himself. His heart. His body.
He bit down hard on his tongue to stifle a moan when he felt Ominis’ finger inside him. The very thought that these were the same fingers that had unbuttoned his shirt barely a minute ago drove him mad — the same fingers he had always watched with such admiration: long, slender — and now those very fingers were stretching him from within. Sebastian chose not to say that he didn’t need preparation. How could he deprive himself of the chance to feel everything? After all, this would happen only once in his life. No — he wanted all of it. Absolutely all.
But still he couldn't ignore the sharp thought that tore through the thick haze of pleasure clouding his mind. How the hell was Ominis so confident? How did he know what to do? It didn't fit with everything Sebastian believed he knew about his best friend. It didn’t add up. He kissed Sebastian like he’d done it more than once. He touched him like he’d touched others. He knew what he was doing. He—
“Wait, Ominis… have you done this with someone before?” Sebastian sounded almost frightened and hated it, but he couldn’t help himself.
He glanced back over his shoulder, trying to catch his reaction. He needed to see him. To his great surprise, Ominis looked caught off guard by the question. His cheeks had turned pink. Or had they already been this way, only from arousal?
“Can we discuss that later? Not… now?” he said, his voice tense, and pushed a second finger inside, as though trying to distract him.
This time Sebastian failed to suppress the moan and buried his face in the sofa fabric in a futile attempt to muffle the sound. To hell with Ominis’ cock — his fingers alone were enough to drive him to the edge. He couldn’t— It was so hard to hold on. But he had already humiliated himself enough before Ominis that day, and if he came this early — it would be too devastating a blow to his self-esteem, one he wasn’t sure he’d survive. He couldn't allow Ominis to suspect his feelings. He couldn’t allow him to think he was pathetic. This was simply an experiment. Nothing more.
Suddenly the fingers disappeared, and Sebastian heard Ominis unfastening his trousers. It was the best sound he had ever heard. He pushed himself up on his hands and turned again, to see, finally to see the most intimate part of Ominis that had preoccupied him for so long.
And he saw. Merlin Almighty, it was enormous. How had Ominis managed to hide it all these years? A fresh wave of shame swept over Sebastian, tangled with the hot desire tightening low in his belly. He didn’t match Ominis in any regard. Too much of a boy, not enough of a man. Too in love, but not desirable enough. And yet here they were — Ominis’ cock was hard because of him, not someone more suitable, and that fact made his head spin more than any wine or Firewhisky ever could. He wanted him so badly it hurt.
God, Ominis’ cock was so large that Sebastian wasn’t even certain anymore that he would fit.
To hell with that, of course he would fit. He hadn’t spent the entire evening — no, two years — preparing for nothing. He wanted to take him whole, all his length, knowing it was Ominis, to feel every inch. But he was a little afraid. Ominis pressed the head of his cock to his entrance, and Sebastian bit his lip, tensing involuntarily in agonised anticipation of what would follow. He didn’t have to wait long. Ominis thrust inside, entering slowly, stretching him — stretching him so perfectly that Sebastian made a sound closer to a sob than a moan, fingers digging into the sofa.
“Does it hurt?” Ominis stilled, and there was such concern in both his question and his tone.
Sebastian didn’t want him to worry. But for some reason it felt overwhelmingly good.
“No,” he breathed, and it was almost the truth.
Ominis leaned closer, and then unexpectedly Sebastian felt his lips on his shoulder blades. Light, almost weightless kisses. Had he believed in heaven, he might have thought he had died and found himself there. He just wanted it never to end. This night never to end. Ominis stroked him again — his hips, his sides — and Sebastian could only breathe, focusing on the sensations so he wouldn’t shatter in his hands in tiny pieces.
At some point Ominis pressed his forehead to Sebastian’s back and continued entering him. Sebastian felt the ragged heat of his breath between his shoulder blades, sending shivers racing over his skin again. He was so slow. So careful. Sebastian loved it and hated it. He wanted more.
“Please… Ominis, don’t stop.”
And Ominis obeyed, pushing deeper. Fully. Sebastian felt it with startling vividness, and then heard his strangled moan — the first of the night and impossibly beautiful. He moaned too, quickly blinking away his tears, trying to relax. Pain and burning mingled with the fullness he had so desperately sought and craved all this time. But the best part was knowing it was Ominis. Inside him, so deep, entirely within him, and moaning because he liked it. Sebastian’s hands, braced against the sofa, trembled.
“Fuck,” Ominis said suddenly, straightening, one hand gripping the back of Sebastian’s neck, the other returning to his hip.
In nearly seven years, Sebastian had never heard Ominis swear.
He began to move — at first slowly, with smooth thrusts, scarcely withdrawing. Then faster, fingers digging into his skin, increasing the range of his thrusts, growing bolder with each motion. Sebastian was close. He couldn’t help it; he was lost somewhere between all these sensations, between fantasy and reality, between the sounds Ominis was now making and their heavy breathing. It seemed like more than he could bear. The heat in his lower abdomen intensified, and Sebastian surrendered completely, ready to give himself over to it.
Honestly, he had already lasted far longer than he’d expected. He had thought that with Ominis’ cock inside his arse he would need less than a minute. At least he could be proud of that.
He didn’t even have to touch himself. He had no time. The orgasm clenched his insides, stealing the air from his lungs, bursting in colours behind his closed eyelids.
Sebastian came on the sofa before he could say anything, before he could warn Ominis. He let out a loud cry, and the hot pleasure mingled with shame inside him — a familiar combination. He had known it would happen, but still he had wanted to be someone… more impressive for Ominis. Someone the way Ominis was to him. All he had managed was to come in a disgustingly short span of time. He gave Ominis nothing — no touch in return. He hadn’t even managed to undress him.
But it felt so damn good. It was the best orgasm he had ever experienced. He was selfish. He felt sick with himself.
Ominis didn’t seem bothered at all; he only wrapped an arm beneath Sebastian’s ribs to keep him from collapsing, and now his wonderful moans came often and freely, like he wasn’t trying to hold them back anymore. He continued thrusting into him, faster, deeper, in wide, sweeping movements — as though he’d lost all control — and Sebastian desperately wanted to look at him, to see him like that, but his body wouldn’t obey. He went limp in his arms, face buried in the sofa, breathing heavily, just existing, still trembling from his own release.
Somehow, he sensed Ominis hesitate. His cock pulsing inside him, and Sebastian simply knew what he was worried about.
“Inside,” he breathed out with difficulty. “Please, inside.”
Ominis moaned something unintelligible — perhaps it really hadn’t been words at all, but only a string of meaningless sounds. He pressed his chest to Sebastian’s back, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against bare skin as he moved inside him. His thrusts became uneven, chaotic, stripped of the former rhythm.
Sebastian felt every bit of it when Ominis finally reached his peak. Every tremor of his body, every moan and shaken breath, the way his fingers dug into his stomach and shoulder. Even without seeing him, he knew with absolute certainty that at that moment Ominis was the most beautiful person in the world. Always?
His hot sperm filled him, and it was more than Sebastian had ever dared to dream of. A part of Ominis inside him — yes, filthy and wrong, yet holy and sacred all the same. He wanted to remember the sensation forever.
Ominis withdrew. Sat beside him, leaning back against the sofa, breathing hard. Fastened his trousers. Ran a hand through his dishevelled, damp hair. Of course — how could he not attempt to compose himself only seconds after he came. A warm smile touched Sebastian’s lips. He rolled onto his back, wincing at the sharp ache in his arse. Merlin, how he cherished that pain. Ominis was silent, and despite his efforts he still looked so damned rumpled. Sexy. Sebastian had never seen him like that. He tried to take in the sight as if it had to last him a lifetime, staring almost without blinking. A few strands of hair clung to Ominis’ forehead. His lips were swollen. Sebastian remained silent too.
“Have you done it before?” Sebastian asked after a few minutes, remembering the question all at once. A stupid jealousy scratched at his heart with sharp little claws. He needed to know.
Ominis winced slightly. He suddenly looked both sad and embarrassed.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
Was it normal to feel resentment, on top of the expected pain and surprise at this confession? Sebastian had no idea.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Was I supposed to?” Ominis raised his eyebrows.
Sebastian drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. Ominis couldn’t see him, but he urgently needed to at least try to hide his vulnerability.
“But I told you about my experiences with others.”
“I remember,” Ominis replied dryly.
Sebastian said nothing. He searched for the strength to ask one more question.
“And who was it?” he finally asked.
“Um…” Ominis was visibly nervous, and for some reason that sparked a dark flicker of satisfaction in Sebastian. “Amit Thakkar.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. His whole world turned upside down at that moment.
“I understand,” he said slowly.
He didn’t understand a damn thing.
They both fell silent again, and it was the strangest silence they had ever shared.
“Did you like it?” Ominis asked timidly, intently stroking the seam along the armrest.
“Yes,” Sebastian answered. The word slipped from his lips before he could stop himself. “And you?”
His heart pounded in his chest. He was so nervous he thought he might faint. Ominis nodded.
“Would you like to do it again sometime?”
Sebastian thought he must have misheard, but he didn’t dare ask him to repeat it. He awkwardly wiped his damp palms on his knees, buying himself time. It was supposed to be just an experiment. Something done once. Something they would never talk about afterwards.
Ominis wanted to do it again.
“Yes. I’d very much like that,” he replied in an unnaturally calm voice.
Ominis finally smiled again, and though the smile wasn’t entirely confident, it transformed his face, making him even more gorgeous. Sebastian was ready to cry from the realisation that he had, after all, managed to do something right that night.
“Great,” Ominis said, exhaling, which sounded like relief.
Sebastian wanted so much to kiss him again.