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Ten weeks into filming Captain America 3, soundstage fever was setting in hard for the entire production. The team shot all day and worked the fight choreo in the evenings and on breaks, no time for anything else. Mornings were given over to 4 AM workouts, and then straight to the shower and makeup.
Sebastian ate dinner with the group every night, schedules permitting, but he always found himself wandering back to the hotel alone, in need of time to contemplate the interior headspace of Bucky Barnes. Or maybe to find his own again. Sometimes, it was hard to say which was more elusive.
Chris always seemed to be right on his heels, though. It was an easy friendship, and one Sebastian had never expected might materialize. But from the first moment they met, there'd never been any question that they would be in each other's orbits, circling gently, laughter and affection their constant source of gravity.
When the shooting schedule finally gave them the rare gift of an entire weekend off, they holed up in Sebastian's room with half the offerings on the room service menu spread out between them, drinking giant bottles of water and showing each other the day's war wounds.
"Holy shit," Sebastian said, staring at the black oval which covered nearly the length of Chris' left side and was shaped like James Young's boot. "Good thing nobody has to try to cover that with makeup. Does it hurt?"
"A little." Chris hitched his T-shirt up higher and peered down at his chest. "Mostly when I have the suit on. Fucking thing is worse than a corset, it pinches everything in."
"Have a lot of experience with corsets, do you?" Sebastian tried not to look like he was enjoying the show inappropriately as Chris twisted sideways in the chair, trying to get a look at the bruise from all angles. It would have been easier for him to go in the bathroom and use the mirror, but Sebastian wasn't about to suggest it. Those were some beautiful, lean muscles, which Chris had tortured himself to achieve, and Sebastian was way past feeling guilty about noticing.
"Oh very funny, ha, my only experience with corsets is the impressive array I saw at Comic-Con." Chris dropped his shirt and pointed at Sebastian. "What about you? I heard they called a medic for you when they peeled the arm off today."
Sebastian shrugged. It seemed less important now that he was comfortable and clean. But Chris was watching expectantly, so Sebastian pulled the hoodie off and over his head, exposing the deep purple bruise the length of his left forearm.
"Wow, hey, let me see that." Chris was out of his chair immediately, one hand under Sebastian's elbow, the other gently wrapped around his wrist. Never mind that the bruise wasn't even half the size of Chris's, or that it wasn't as bad as ten others he'd had in the last week, Chris was frowning at it like it personally offended him. He ran his thumb up the edges of it. "What a weird place for a bruise."
"John fell on me during rehearsal," Sebastian said. "And then my arm swelled up."
"Because you were too stubborn to tell anybody that you were hurt, am I right?" Chris was still frowning, so Sebastian poked him in his bruised ribs, just to hear him squeak. He didn't drop Sebastian's arm, though.
"Pot, kettle," Sebastian said. "Ever heard of an ice pack?"
"Whatever. They're going to use extra lube when they arm you up tomorrow, I hope." They were about four years past the lube jokes, so Sebastian didn't take the bait, despite the way Chris glanced up at him with a mischievous little grin.
Chris smoothed a hand down his arm and released him, but Sebastian was pretty sure he wasn't imagining Chris's reluctance to stop touching, or the way Chris's fingers lingered where the bruise was deepest. It made him wish that Chris would push the envelope, just once, to see if Sebastian was on board.
It wasn't like that, with them. Hadn't ever been. Sometimes he caught Chris looking at him brazenly, and sometimes he looked back, but it was just...comfortable, knowing that they appreciated each other. No big deal. No one had done anything crazy yet, no kisses or awkward silences or misinterpreted touches.
Sebastian cleared his throat and reached for his phone, flicking it on as he moved to the couch. "The internet tells me that you are lined up to star in a pretentious period piece with the lovely Ben Whishaw," Sebastian said, scrolling through his news feeds. "And that you're in talks to star in a romance with Jessica Biel."
"Nope and nope," Chris said. "Anything in there about how no one has offered me a job in months?"
"Too boring. If there's no news, people make shit up."
"Aw, sometimes they get things right. The internet knew I was doing Captain America before I had persuaded myself to say yes."
"Yeah, well, parts of the internet also think you're a deviant multiple goatfucker-"
"Ugh, I would never fuck more than one goat at a time, why does no one respect my need for monogamy?"
"-- who should step aside and let Mackie take over as Captain America."
Chris shrugged. "If the suit fits that fine, fine body," he said. Sebastian thought about Anthony's broad shoulders, and then he grinned, and Chris grinned back.
"Scoot over," Chris said, shoving himself into the small space between Sebastian and the arm of the couch. He looked down at Sebastian's phone, where a picture of Jessica Biel was shining up. "I'd probably say no to doing a movie with her anyway. It's weird, dating or having dated a co-worker. Makes things complicated."
"I'll bet," Sebastian said, thinking of all the times he'd gone home to a hotel room purposely devoid of a handsome colleague for the same reason.
"To be honest," Chris said, and paused. "That's one reason I never made a move on you, despite the fact that you are extremely hot." He smiled, and eyed Sebastian, who raised an eyebrow. There was a gentle pink blush creeping up Chris's neck. It was adorable, because it was just part of who Chris was: honest, open, real. And besides, knowing that Chris thought he was hot was the best thing that had happened to him in months. "You know you're hot, right? Of course you do, you're reading the internet. Anyway. It would be weird. Dating you, I mean."
Sebastian clicked off the phone and tossed it on the table. It was as good an opening as he was ever likely to get, so: now or never. "Chris, don't take offense - I mean that - but I don't want to date you."
It took a moment for the inflection to sink in, and then Chris turned toward him with a half-hopeful, half-wary expression. His hair was going five different directions, a remnant of ripping off Cap's helmet at the end of the shooting day and never bothering to straighten it out. Sebastian ran his fingers through it, taking tiny liberties as the gel in Chris's hair crackled against his skin and then gave way, letting the strands relax into Sebastian's touch.
Sebastian leaned his head back against the cushions, so that his face was tilted toward Chris, and waited.
"Still could get weird," Chris said, his gaze traveling toward Sebastian's lips, and then flicking back up.
"Not arguing that point. I've never crossed that line before. Thought I'd never do it."
"We could be grown-ups about this," Chris said softly. "Keep it private. Keep it from becoming...you know. Weird."
"Might be worth a try," Sebastian said. Even if it got weird, he was mostly convinced it was worth it. Chris wasn't going to be anybody's casual fuck; that much, Sebastian was sure of, but how long it would last, there was no telling.
He had told himself he wouldn't mind taking Chris to bed, but a tiny part of his heart was still hoping that wouldn't be all of it. Chris was loyal, and funny, and sweet, and his hair was bizarrely attractive in the same way that bees and thunderstorms were attractive - wild, but alluring. Sebastian wanted very much to be a person Chris Evans might think was worth keeping close.
He kept his gaze fixed firmly on Chris's eyes, waiting for some sign that he wasn't into it, but Chris just shifted closer, and leaned in.
Sebastian had had Chris's hands all over his body during all three film shoots, and had returned the favor in a briskly professional way. It was work, nothing more. But the moment Chris's palm curved around Sebastian's cheek, and his lips touched Sebastian's, all of that knowledge faded into the background. Chris's kisses were slow, gentle. No hurry; just leisurely, confident kisses, growing deeper.
Sebastian sighed, pushed gracefully off the couch and swung himself into Chris's lap. Chris grinned as Sebastian straddled his thighs; he caught hold of the hem of Sebastian's T-shirt and pulled it up and over Sebastian's head. A moment later, he slid one hand up Sebastian's back, curled the other around the nape of his neck, and pulled Sebastian to him. His mouth was so hot, and Sebastian moaned softly as Chris kissed him. He held Sebastian securely in place, and when his hand tightened on Sebastian's neck, a full-body shiver rippled down Sebastian's spine.
"Damn," Chris breathed, looking at him in a way that would have weakened his knees if he'd been standing up. "Sure hope you aren't in a hurry, because I am so taking my time with you."
"Sweet-talker," Sebastian said, grazing his teeth down the side of Chris's neck. "Bet that works on women like nobody's business."
"The truth is always sexy," Chris answered, a tiny hiss edging that confession when Sebastian nuzzled the tender spot under his left ear. Chris still smelled a little like sweaty rubber and medicinal salve, which shouldn't have been alluring, but Chris could compensate for just about anything weird by getting naked. So Sebastian got to it, relieving him of his shirt, though Chris kept dragging him back for the kind of slow, wet kisses that robbed him of any ability to resist.
Chris leaned in, slid his hands under Sebastian's ass, and lifted him, turning them so Sebastian was on the couch with his legs sprawled open as Chris slid to his knees between them. Something very pleasant fluttered in Sebastian's belly at being manhandled that way - they both knew Chris was stronger, and Chris never made a big deal of it, but that was ridiculously hot.
Chris reached for Sebastian's belt buckle, then stopped, and looked up. He rested a hand on Sebastian's belly, a question clear in his posture.
Sebastian nodded, once, and smiled. Then he lifted his chin in the direction of the bed. "Top left drawer," he said.
A moment later Chris had retrieved the lube and two condoms and set them aside. He went back to work, pulling the belt free and Sebastian's fly open, pants down and quickly wrestled off, and then his mouth was on Sebastian's cock, his tongue tracing shapes as he slid down the length. Lightning surged inside Sebastian, and he threw his head back, staring at the ceiling and trying not to come as Chris worked him hard, no mercy with his mouth or fingers.
He couldn't help the strangled moan, though, when Chris pressed a slick finger inside him and curled it. More lightning, setting his blood on fire as he gasped and tried not to arch completely off the couch. He tried to stay grounded, but the sensations were too fast, too pure - wet heat on his cock, fingers both rough and gentle inside him, the simple pleasure of Chris's scent and the warmth of his body under the leg Sebastian slid over his shoulder.
"Chris," he called out, his hand sinking into Chris's hair. He pulled, and then he pushed, a warning. "Not yet not yet, not yet." Chris circled his fingers at the base of Sebastian's cock and squeezed gently, and Sebastian made a noise which sounded a bit to his own ears like he might be dying. He buried his fingers in Chris's hair, twitching as his body tried to agree to his demands no matter how badly it wanted to come. Chris rose up on his knees and kissed Sebastian through that long moment, suspended at the crumbling edge of a cliff, his tongue touching softly and then retreating.
"You're really fucking good at this," Sebastian breathed.
Chris lit up with pleasure at the compliment in ways that made Sebastian want to hold him down and debauch him. He hadn't been wound up so fast in years. "You want to move this to the bed?" Chris asked, his voice a little hoarse.
"Don't forget, I'm going to get a turn too, and I have plans for you," Sebastian said softly.
Chris's eyes went wide; he dragged a slick fist up Sebastian's cock and released him. "Get on that bed," he said, shucking off his pants. Sebastian laughed, delight blossoming alongside anticipation in his belly. He stood up on wobbly legs and took just one step toward the bed before Chris caught him up in his arms, one hand on his ass and the other wrapped around his shoulders, all to capture another kiss. Or ten. They moved backwards toward the bed, and in one smooth movement Chris laid Sebastian out on the bed, kneed up on the mattress, and went down on him, most of Sebastian's cock in his warm, wet mouth.
Sebastian clapped a hand over his own mouth, teeth gritted against the shout he'd almost let loose. Chris drove two slick fingers mercilessly inside him, and a moment later Sebastian was coming so hard he could only cry out and try not to let his brain short out completely.
"Taking your time, right," Sebastian murmured, though the words came out in a sort of low lilt. Just then, Chris kissed his hipbone, and the curve of his hip; he pressed open-mouthed kisses to Sebastian's ribs, to the ugly bruise on his arm, to his collarbone. Sebastian could do nothing more than touch all of Chris's skin he could reach while Chris tasted and kissed his way across Sebastian's body.
By the time he made his way back to Sebastian's mouth, Sebastian was hard again, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He pressed his hands to Chris's chest and shoved him back gently. Chris went to his back willingly, and watched as Sebastian scrambled off the bed to retrieve the lube and condoms from the couch.
It was surreal, seeing Chris on his rumpled bed and having the memory of the way Chris had watched him come fresh in his mind. Seeing how hard Chris was for him, and how patient he had been in taking his own pleasure. He closed his eyes for a second, grounding himself in the moment, and behind him, Chris said, "Second thoughts?"
Sebastian had known him long enough to hear the concern in his voice, and that tiny note of anxiety. In answer, he returned to the bed and set the supplies down, then crawled up to straddle Chris's thighs. "Not even for a moment," he answered, as Chris's hands settled on his hips.
"Hot isn't the right word for you," Chris said, his gaze traveling over Sebastian's body as slow as his hands had.
"Are you going to say something ridiculous right now?" Sebastian asked, though he could feel a flush following Chris's gaze.
"Depends on how you define that." Chris tipped his knees up behind Sebastian's back, then pulled on Sebastian's hips until Sebastian was draped over Chris's body, Chris's erection pressed hard into his belly. "You're beautiful, and nothing about that is ridiculous, and I'm probably going to say it a lot."
"God, just- get me ready," Sebastian answered, because the poetic side of his brain had stepped aside in favor of getting Chris inside him.
"Ugh, don't--can you just not--don't say things like that," Chris gasped. He groped on the bedspread until he found the lube, popped the cap, and a moment later his fingers were inside Sebastian again. Sebastian took that opportunity to kiss Chris until he was breathless. His hands curved to the shape of Chris's jaw, fingertips feathering against Chris's temples. Chris pressed in, in, in, and Sebastian's bones turned to molten metal, hot and fluid inside his body and pulsing in time with Chris's fingers.
He shifted up and watched as Chris slid on a condom, playing it up with a dirty smirk which left Sebastian staring open-mouthed - until the moment Chris guided himself inside Sebastian, slow, slow, one hand at his left hip and his eyes locked to Sebastian's. He held very still while Sebastian adjusted to the strangeness of it; he hadn't been fucked in years, hadn't wanted it, until now. Chris was so hard inside him, and when he rolled his hips in a gentle circle, Sebastian breathed out a string of soft profanities.
"Get going," he said, grinning down at Chris. And then they were both moving, hips driving and circling, and Sebastian watched Chris's face as long as he could to see the way he bit his lips, held back his own cries, the way his eyes roamed over Sebastian's face like he was hungry for the sight of him.
Sebastian's second orgasm broke over him without warning, and he shifted closer to Chris, who sat up, pulling Sebastian into his arms to kiss him, stealing back some of the lightning between them. Then he rolled carefully until Sebastian was on his back, warm and pliant and with Chris fucking him slow and deep, his face a study in wonder. When he came a moment later, he buried his face against Sebastian's neck, and Sebastian gripped his ass, pulling him as deep as he could go. Chris made a wounded noise, and a full-body shiver, his shaky exhale hot against Sebastian's skin.
Neither of them spoke or moved, and the moment stretched, until finally Chris withdrew carefully and rolled onto his back. Sebastian stared at the ceiling, breathed through the pleasing aches and twinges in his body while Chris disposed of the condom. He drifted a bit, lost in the sensation.
Chris's fingers curling around his own brought him back, as Chris laced their fingers together. They lay there, holding hands and grinning like two idiots, and Sebastian stifled the urge to laugh.
"Ow," Chris said. "Someone put their weight on my giant chest bruise."
"Ow?" Sebastian turned his head to glare at Chris. "I just had your extra-large cock in my ass. If anyone gets to be wounded, it's me."
"Extra-large, huh?"
"How is that your takeaway?" Sebastian marveled. He closed his eyes, still grinning, and scratched his eyebrow. "I might never walk again."
"Oh, how tragic," Chris said. He rolled to his side and propped himself up on one elbow. "You'd have to stay here, in bed, and I'd have you whenever I wanted."
"Well, that was more or less always true. The part about having me, I mean." Sebastian had a moment to wonder if he should have admitted that at all, but then Chris kissed him, and there was no more wondering. Just the two of them burrowing under the covers, fitting together the way they were meant to, conversation put aside until morning.