Second Chances [BxB]

forty one

Sebastian smoothed his fingertips down the side of Declan's face, tracing his cheekbones, the arch his eyebrows, the curve of his jaw. He was mesmerised by Declan's freckles; each and every one of them.

They were constellations, and Sebastian was starstruck.

Declan was still asleep, and Sebastian had spent the last ten minutes staring at him, unsure whether he could look away, whether his heart could handle it. His gaze snagged on the ring around Declan's finger; the ring Sebastian had given him. Declan never took it off. Sebastian always caught him fiddling with it, brushing his fingers over it with such care, such tenderness, such adoration. Sometimes, Declan pressed it to his lips, as though he was tasting all the promises that lived within the cool silver of the ring.

"I love you." Sebastian whispered, tucking a soft curl behind Declan's ear. He felt it in every bone of his body, humming beneath his skin; I love you, I love you, I love you.

Sebastian leant forward to press a light kiss to Declan's cheek, before quietly slipping out of bed. He pulled a jumper over his head, smiling when he noticed that it smelt like Declan — who had worn it on the walk home from the pub the previous night — before he crept out of the bedroom, into the hall.

When he reached the kitchen, he halted in the doorway.

Mickey was at the sink, wearing a pair of rubber gloves, and scrubbing at a plate with a sponge. Yesterday there had been a pile of dirty dishes on the counter, and today, there was a pile of clean ones.

"Morning." Sebastian greeted.

Mickey turned to face him, smiling brightly, "Morning." He responded cheerfully, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, fine." Sebastian murmured, "Did you?"

Mickey nodded, mindlessly placing the clean plate aside, and reaching for the next dirty one, "The sofa's pretty comfy."

"Did Harvey stay the night?"

"I think he slept in Evan's room."

Sebastian rose his brows, "Really?"

Mickey shrugged, "Yeah." He replied dismissively, "They're dating, aren't they?"

Sebastian scoffed, "No, they're... No."

"Oh." Mickey breathed out, "I thought... Never mind."

Sebastian sighed, leaning back against the counter, "You don't have to do that, you know?" He said, staring at the soapy water where Mickey's hands were submerged below the surface. Sebastian often did Declan's dishes, and Evan's, too, if he noticed they had built up, and seeing Mickey standing in his spot, filling a role that belonged to him, made him unreasonably jealous. He didn't want Declan to need anyone else — he was perfectly capable of taking care of him on his own, without Mickey's help.

"I don't mind." Mickey assured him, "I know how much Dec hates doing dishes."

Sebastian released a weak laugh, "Yeah, and laundry." He added, "He's not a fan of hoovering, either."

"I don't know how he's survived so long."

"Because of you, I'm sure." Sebastian admitted; it was a painful truth to come to terms with, "I know you took care of him, when he was at his worst, and...well, thank you for that."

"He's my best friend." Mickey replied simply, "He took care of me, when I was..." His eyes were fixed on the sponge in his hand, unmoving, his gaze unfocused. He cleared his throat, "We'll always be there for each other — always."

"I know." Sebastian replied, struck by the similarities between Mickey and Evan; their shared desire to protect their best friend. "You're a good friend." He reached for a tea towel, and started drying the clean crockery Mickey had set aside, "But you don't have to take care of him anymore."