Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Waking up next to Chris is one of the best things in the world. He has a thing about touch—he likes to have hands on Sebastian at all times whether it be a hand on his back at a party or being wrapped around him in sleep. It seems to calm him down to know that Sebastian is here and that he’s safe. Sebastian is happy to indulge him because he likes it. He likes to be touched, to be kissed, to be held. He didn’t think he would after all the years in those clubs—all those people touching him. But with Chris it’s different.

Chris isn’t a normal Alpha. Chris is kind and gentle and he loves Sebastian with his whole heart. Sebastian knows this. Sebastian is comfortable with Chris. He never thought he would be. He’s kept mostly to himself—not dating a lot, keeping away from the radicals on either side, trying to pass as a Beta. He never wanted to be Mated. Never thought he could be loved.

There are less and less Omegas in the world so it’s easy to blend in as long as he doesn’t get too close to a Alpha. But Chris . . . Chris is different. Chris was awkward and shy when he asked Sebastian out. He was kind the entire dinner as Sebastian tripped over his own feet and ran into a few table corners. He was surprised but not put off that Sebastian’s an Omega. He took their relationship slowly, took their first time slowly, following Sebastian’s lead on what he likes and doesn’t like, on what he’s willing or not willing to do. He watched Sebastian’s face, learned how to take him apart and cared about Sebastian’s pleasure. 

Completely different from the clubs.

So yes, waking up to Chris is splendid. Sebastian is warm pressed against the older man’s naked body, safe in the strong arms of his Alpha. His Mate. Chris Evans the animator, the artist, the actor and Sebastian Stan the model, the composer, the pianist. It wasn’t always hearts and flowers between the two of them, especially when they first met and Chris has accidentally outed him, but they had made it through. It took a lot of time and persistence on Chris’ part, but Sebastian hadn't been able to deny that here had been a connection between the two of them. So they had tried dinner again and this time . . . this time Sebastian had allowed Chris to kiss him, to hold him, to shelter him from all the Alphas leering at him on the streets.

Sebastian is well known in New York for both of his careers—model and composer. He’s written for orchestras and movies. He’s modelled for Vogue and countless other magazines. He’s not as famous as Chris, not by a long shot, but he’s famous enough. Enough that he and Chris had become the centre of media attention for weeks after they had made their relationship public. Chris gets anxious in the face of crowds, but Sebastian is comfortable enough to take charge in that aspect of their relationship. He’s good with words, with people. He and Chris both know this—they know each other’s strengths and Chris is a different kind of Alpha because sometimes he does let Sebastian take charge. Omegas are supposed to be submissive, compliant. Most Omegas are bought from their parents, but Chris and Sebastian were together for love. They had only mated two weeks ago, but already their relationship is stronger for it. 

Mating is an interesting thing, a complex thing. It’s knowing your Mate’s mood, it makes emotions so much more intense, makes sex even more mind-blowing. It was always a frightening concept for Sebastian because in Romania, Omegas were Mated against their will. Here in America, Omegas might be bought and legally bound to their Mates, but they didn’t have to say yes. They got to pick their Mate to an extent. Their parents could force them into it, but Sebastian’s mother had always been on his side. She always gave him freedom—freedom he hadn't had in Romania.

That’s what makes waking up with Chris so wonderful—the fact that he chose this, that Chris loves him, and that Sebastian loves him right back. He had never meant to fall in love. Never thought he wanted to. But looking at his sleeping Mate, he can't help but think how wrong he was. 

“Seb?” Chris mutters, eyes opening slowly to reveal sleep-glazed eyes.

“Good morning,” Sebastian murmurs, leaning down to kiss him.

“What time is it?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Still early. I have to get ready, but you have a couple hours.”

“Mmh,” Chris grunts, wrapping his harms around Sebastian. Chris is warm against his skin and if he didn’t have a meeting he’d be tempted to stay in bed. “Don’t go,” Chris murmurs. Sebastian sighs and kisses Chris’ forehead. 

“I have to. I’m meeting with the director of that orchestra today, remember?” Chris makes a noise of assent and pulls Sebastian in for a small kiss.

“Go on, then.” Sebastian laughs, getting out of bed into the cool air of their room. He jumps into the shower and quickly washes his hair and body. He’s already running late. He has to be there by eight and its seven-fifteen. Getting out and drying off, he grabs black jeans and a white shirt, hastily getting dressed. A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom dressed but frustrated with his hair, and goes over to the bed to give Chris another kiss. “I’m going,” he says, leaning down to kiss his Mate.

“Good luck,” Chris says, smiling up at him. “You’ll do great.” Sebastian smiles back at him before grabbing his boots and taking them out to the living room to slide them on. He grabs his keys and his phone and his sweater and he’s out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. He gets a cab quickly and gives the driver the address. In the back seat, Sebastian relaxes for a bit, checking his phone. He fiddles with his hair and sighs, looking out the window. New York traffic at seven-thirty is hell and it always seems to move faster when he has to get somewhere.

And that’s the last thought he has before the car hits them. 

- 

Chris’ alarm goes off at nine, alerting him that he actually has to get up this time. He groans and turns it off, rolling over to pull Sebastian’s pillow to his face. Inhaling deeply, he sighs. It smells like Sebastian’s shampoo. He huffs again and gets up, pulling clothes on at random. It’s not like he’s going anywhere—just to his studio space down the hall. He puts coffee on and shuffles around the apartment cleaning up a bit, doing dishes, making Sebastian’s life easier. Normally in an Alpha/Omega relationship, the Omega does all the housework, but Chris enjoys helping Sebastian out in all the ways that he can. He knows his Mate is going to be exhausted by the time he gets home tonight—he’s just trying to make it easier. Maybe he’ll run them a bath when Sebastian gets home.

Coffee done, he pours it into a mug and meanders down to his studio. He’s working on a comic for Marvel at the moment—funny because he’s also been in quite a few of their movies. Maybe that’s why they gave him this job. He laughs at himself and gets to work. Shading, colouring, scratch of pencil on paper. It’s a comforting sound to Chris in the morning silence.

His phone squawks angrily from its place on the desk. Chris pushes his chair back to reach it. Sebastian’s calling him?

“Hey babe,” he answers, still a bit confused. “How’d it go?”

“Is this Chris Evans?” That’s definitely not Sebastian. Chris gets a sickening feeling that something’s wrong.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Mr. Evans, I’m calling you because your Mate, Sebastian Stan has been in a car wreck.” Chris can't breathe. “He’s stable, they’re en route to the hospital, but I'd recommend you meet them there.” Chris’ mind is blank, Alpha instincts to protect washing over him. “Sir?” 

“Which hospital?” He gasps out. The man gives him the address and Chris snatches up his car keys, pulling on his shoes and taking his phone with him. Sebastian is hurt. Sebastian got into a car wreck. What the fuck does stable even mean? He unlocks the car with shaking hands and makes his way to the hospital, speeding and weaving in and out of traffic the entire way. 

How had this happened? Sebastian had woken him up with kisses and a smile, had showered and left to go to work. This shouldn’t be happening. Not to Sebastian. Never to Sebastian. Chris can't think past that, past the fact that Sebastian is bleeding somewhere in an ambulance or a hospital bed. That his Mate is hurt and he’s not there. He wasn’t there, he should have driven Sebastian to the meeting. Should have . . .

When he gets to the hospital fifteen minutes later, he parks haphazardly and sprints through the doors. The nurses stop him at the front desk.

“Sebastian Stan,” he demands, pulling out the Alpha card. The nurses tell him that Sebastian isn’t out of surgery yet. Phrases like broken ribs and fractured femur swim in his head as he’s lead into a waiting room. He sits in a chair, taking deep breaths. He has to call someone—Sebastian’s mother . . . but he doesn’t have her number. And he’s Sebastian's emergency contact so he has no way to get in touch with her, so instead, he ops for calling his own mother. She promises to come and Scott says he’ll come, too, and then Chris is left in the eerie silence of the waiting room. He texts Scarlett and tells her what’s going on, but he also knows she’s probably busy.

After a few minutes of sitting, he switches to pacing. Then back to sitting. It’s an endless cycle until his family arrives. And then it’s a lot of Chris crying and the doctor coming out and telling them that Sebastian is still in surgery. Chris doesn’t know how to handle this. He doesn’t know how to not break down every door between him and his Mate but he also doesn’t think he can get out of the chair he’s in without falling to the floor. He feels numb, and eventually, he shuts down—refusing to talk to anyone, even Scott.

An hour later, a doctor comes out and says that Chris can see Sebastian, that he’s asleep but doing well. Chris allows the doctor to lead him to Sebastian’s room, but stops dead in the doorway. Sebastian is hooked up to countless monitors and IV’s, pale as a sheet. Chris walks toward the bed slowly, holding his breath. The heart monitor beeps in the background, but Chris has zeroed in on his Mate.

“Oh, Sebastian,” he breathes, sitting in the chair next to the bed and taking his Mate’s hand.

“He should wake up soon,” the doctor says. “His leg is fractured and he has some broken ribs, but other than that, he was lucky.” Chris growls at the word lucky. This isn’t lucky. Sebastian is hurt not lucky. The doctor backs off, leaving Chris alone with Sebastian.

“C’mon, baby. Come back to me,” Chris pleads. “I can't lose you, Seb. I love you. I'm so sorry I wasn’t there.” He lets himself cry, head dropping to Sebastian’s arm. There’s nothing he can do and he just feels so fucking helpless so he just talks. He talks and talks and if Sebastian were awake he’d probably tell him to shut the fuck up, but Chris doesn’t care. He doesn’t care until Sebastian actually wakes up, winter blue eyes peering down at him.

“Hey,” he says, voice cracking. Chris stares for a moment before handing over the little plastic cup with water in it. Sebastian drinks, wincing when he has to swallow, and puts the cup back down. “What happened?” It takes Chris a moment before he realises the question was directed at him.

“You were in a car accident, but you're okay. God, you're okay and you're awake and I love you so fuckin’ much.” Sebastian squeezes his hand, hard.

“Broken ribs?” he guesses. 

“And your leg,” Chris replies. Sebastian's eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything about that. “How are you feeling? God, I thought I'd lost you.” Chris is crying again. He realises Sebastian’s probably never seen him cry.

“Hey,” Sebastian whispers. “I’m right here. I'm all right. I'm right here.” Chris sniffles and presses a kiss to Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian’s awake and okay and here with him and that’s what matters.

Chapter Text

After two days in the hospital, Chris is allowed to take Sebastian home. Two weeks later, Sebastian is still on crutches and working from home. It’s frustrating for him, not being able to do the things he used to. He’s just glad there’s an elevator in their apartment building so that he doesn’t have to walk up all of those stairs. Chris has been extra protective and super hands-off. It’s kind of annoying actually; he has broken ribs and a fractured femur, not life-threatening injuries. His doctor said sex is okay, so why is Chris so afraid to touch him? He feels kind of like a broken toy. He knows it’s kind of a burden on Chris—especially for the first few days—but he’s trying. He’s doing the exercises and he’s trying to get better.

Sebastian sighs, getting up from his desk and grabbing his crutch. He hobbles into the living room where he plops onto the couch and covers himself with the fluffy blanket they keep spread over the back. He snuggles in, closing his eyes. He’s been up since eight and it’s almost seven PM . . . he deserves a nap, right? Chris isn’t home yet, so it’s okay if he sleeps for a bit.

Except he can't fall asleep. It’s been a problem lately—he’s sleeping less and working more, eating less and working out more. His leg’s basically healed, but he still does the physical therapy. He probably’ll have to for at least another couple of weeks. The fracture wasn’t bad, so the doctor said it shouldn’t take long to heal. It’s just that sometimes he overthinks about why Chris won't touch him. He’ll hold Sebastian at night and sometimes hold his hand, but that’s about it. It’s like Sebastian’s done something to offend him and he doesn’t know what.

Huffing, Sebastian gets up from the couch and goes into the kitchen. He’ll make dinner tonight—Chris deserves that much. He’s been working a lot lately, too and Sebastian wants to do something nice for his Alpha. He’s better at cooking than Chris anyways. Sebastian limps to the fridge, pulling out all the fixings for steak and potatoes—cliché, but Chris’ favourite. It’s easy for Sebastian to make and if it makes Chris happy, maybe they’ll be able to clear the air between them. Sebastian hums quietly as he cooks, alone with his thoughts for a bit until he hears the door open. 

“Hey,” he calls, not looking up from the potatoes he’s chopping. Chris appears in the doorway looking exhausted and red-cheeked from the cold wind.

“It smells divine in here,” Chris says, and Sebastian blushes. He’s not that good at cooking, but Chris makes him out to be good at everything. “I’m serious, Seb.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You need help?” Sebastian smiles.

“No, I’m doing this for you tonight. Go change and then sit down while I finish.” Chris laughs, but does as he’s told. Sebastian throws the potatoes in a pan to fry up and then checks on the steaks. They’re cooked just the way Chris likes them—medium rare. He turns the heat on low and listens to the pop and crack of the oil as the potatoes cook, leaning against the counter for support. His leg doesn’t exactly hurt, but there’s a deep ache there and he can't stand but for so long by himself.

“You okay, baby?” Chris asks, making Sebastian jump and bump his hip into the corner of the table. 

“Rahat,” he hisses, pain shooting through both his hip and his ribs. Chris’ arms immediately encircle him.

 “I’m sorry—shit. Are you okay?” Chris is looking at him with concern, one hand on his back and the other on his injured hip, thumb stroking circles over the bruising flesh. Sebastian tips his head down to lean on Chris’ chest.

“Fine, you just scared me is all.” Chris is in jeans and a tight-fitting black t-shirt—he looks perfect as always.

“I was gettin’ some weird emotions through the Bond. You okay?” Sebastian nods.

“Go sit down,” he murmurs, even though he doesn’t want to break contact.

“At least let me set the table,” Chris pleads, giving Sebastian his best puppy dog eyes.

“Fiiine,” Sebastian acquiesces. “But just set the table.” Chris smiles like it’s a huge victory and Sebastian can't help but laugh at the childishness. The Alpha hands him plates and then goes to grab glasses and silverware. Sebastian Scoops potatoes onto plates and then the steaks, setting one plate in front of Chris and one at his own place before grabbing a beer for Chris and red wine for himself.

“This looks great, Sebastian. Thank you.” Chris takes his hand from across the table and rubs his knuckles with his thumb. Sebastian shrugs it off.

“I was having a hard time with my piece and tried to take a nap but couldn’t sleep, so I figured I'd cook something nice tonight.” Chris just smiles stupidly at him before digging in. Chris talks about his day and the piece he’s working on and Sebastian talks about the modelling offer he just got—it’s a normal night. Chris does the dishes while Sebastian puts on a movie and they cuddle up on the couch together, Chris’ arm draped carefully over Sebastian’s slim shoulders. 

“This okay?” Chris asks. Sebastian looks up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not gonna break, Chris,” Sebastian says as gently as he can. “You can touch me.” Chris’ eyes widen.

“I'm sorry—I just thought . . .” Chris trails off.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian says, sharper than he intended. Chris leans back. 

“Are you okay?” Chris asks. Sebastian sighs and sits up, turning his body so that he’s facing Chris. 

“Are you?” Chris’ eyes widen in surprise.

“What—” 

“You don’t touch me,” Sebastian explodes, everything tumbling out. “You won't touch me and I know I got hurt and I know I scared you but if you're going to punish me, do it. But I can't keep going thinking that there’s something wrong with me or that you don’t want me anymore.” Emotions are rolling over Chris’ face and through the Bond but they’re changing so fast that Sebastian can't pick them out. Chris’ hands reach out as if to touch him, but they drop limply between their bodies.

“I . . .” Sebastian is near tears and humiliated for it. Chris hasn’t denied it.

“It’s been two weeks, Chris. If something else is wrong, I think I deserve to know.” Chris looks at him helplessly, mouth working like he wants to say something but can't form the words. Sebastian softens his posture and takes both on Chris’ hands. 

I just want to know what I've done.

Chris inhales sharply and moves slowly to pull Sebastian into his lap. He presses his face into the crook of Chris’ neck and lets the tears out. He feels utterly ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. He needs to know.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Sebastian,” Chris whispers. “Fuck—I'm so sorry . . . I didn’t want to hurt you. I was waiting for you to initiate—God. I'm sorry, I love you.” Sebastian cracks and lets out a breathless laugh through the tears. “I love you,” Chris promises. “There’s nothing wrong. God—don’t ever think I don’t want you. Look at me.” Sebastian can’t resist the commanding tone, even though he doesn’t want to move. “Look at me,” Chris says again. Sebastian’s head snaps up. Chris’ face is all kinds of hurt and emotion but his eyes. His eyes are red-rimmed and he looks like he’s going to cry, but they’re also strong and determined. “I don’t ever want you to say that again,” he says firmly. “There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing in this world that could make me not want you. I love you.” Chris leans in and kisses him softly, hands digging in to Sebastian’s hips.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian whispers around kisses. “I was just so confused . . .” Chris kisses his words away. 

“It’s okay, baby. I'm right here.” Chris lifts his smaller frame and moves him so that he’s straddling Chris’ hips. “God I've wanted you so much these two weeks,” Chris murmurs, kissing Sebastian hungrily.

“Take me,” Sebastian pleads. “I want it. I need it.” He feels Chris’ cock against his own sparking white-hot desire low in his belly.

“Stand up,” Chris commands. Sebastian jerks upright immediately. “Strip.” Sebastian yanks his shirt off and shimmies out of his pants and briefs. Chris inhales sharply and yanks off his shirt, standing up. “Bedroom. Now.” Sebastian stumbles after him, breathing heavily. Chris stops abruptly in the door and picks Sebastian up, pressing his against the wall. Sebastian wraps his legs around the bigger man’s waist, diving in for a kiss.

They give and they take, pulling clothes off and kissing and biting and moaning. It’s probably the best sex Sebastian has ever had—and that’s saying something because he and Chris have had a lot of great sex. Chris is more vocal about what he wants Sebastian to do—where he wants to be kissed and how he wants Sebastian to move. Chris is almost never like this. Usually he’s very quiet during sex, mostly just soft moans and a whisper of Sebastian’s name when he comes. But this time, this time Chris shouts his name and endearments and sings praises into Sebastian’s ear. When they both finally come down, Chris is touching him everywhere—back to chest, legs folded together, hands intertwined.

“I love you,” he whispers, dropping open-mouthed kisses to Sebastian’s neck.

“Te iubesc.” He feels Chris smile against his neck, and then Chris is asleep. It’s always been a wonder to Sebastian how his Mate can sleep anywhere, but it’s adorable. So he cuddles into Chris’ warmth and closes his eyes, slowing his breathing and falling asleep in the circle of strong arms.