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peachy-panic · 1 year ago

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Luke and Sebastian Walk Into A Bar

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @hold-him-down !!! Here is this absolute chaos spin-off/crossover event.

NOTE: The characters of Luke Bennett and Leo Evans are entirely Holdy's. I am just borrowing them to play in our shared most-non-canon cinematic universe. Also, our world building details don't always align so adjustments have been made & rules don't count here.

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-adjacent, alcohol, talk of sexual content, heavy talks of slavery, asshole politicians

“Vodka soda.” Sebastian saddles up to the last seat at the bar, putting the most distance possible between himself and the next patron.

The place is a dive; dimly lit and underpopulated, both of which are characteristics he actively sought out. It’s been a stressful, exhausting forty-eight hours in Washington D.C., and his social meter has all but depleted. This seems as good a place as any to blow of steam.

Under the bar, he pulls out his phone and types a message.

Early flight tomorrow. Can’t wait to be home. Everything good?

As usual, the reply comes almost immediately.

J: everything is good. we are watching a movie. ezra taught me how to sous vide chicken.

Before Sebastian can type out his response, his phone buzzes again.

J: I’m glad you’ll be home soon.

Something swells in his chest in the way he’s becoming accustomed to when Jaime decides to say the most casual thing that takes an emotional baseball bat to his heart. He shoots off another message, telling Jaime to sleep well and that he’ll see him in the morning.

Just as he is slipping his phone back into his pocket, a man settling in across the bar catches his eye. Not to be a cliche, but the tall-dark-handsome combination has always done it for Sebastian, and this guy is certainly no exception to the rule.

Their gazes meet just long enough for them to acknowledge each other and… Well, this wasn’t exactly the kind of stress relief he had in mind for tonight, but Sebastian isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sebastian doesn't consider himself to be particularly good at flirting, even with the crutch of alcohol, but he has learned to navigate this sort of interaction with enough poise to get by. Usually. It was a learned skill, born out of necessity; if you’re going to restrict all intimate interaction in your life to anonymous strangers from a bar, you’ve got to get good at picking them up.

Still, it’s been a while. Casual sex hasn’t been a big part of his life since Jaime came into the picture, and Sebastian is rusty.

The bartender places his drink in front of him, and Sebastian knocks it back in three long swigs. He slides off of his stool and saunters over to the empty seat beside the stranger.

“Anyone sitting here?” he asks.

The man angles slightly toward him on his barstool. His dark brown eyes cast a look of approval over Sebastian and a small smile flicks up the corner of his mouth.

“Just you,” he says.

Still got it, baby.

“So,” Sebastian tries after a beat of not-entirely-comfortable silence. “You come here often?”

Okay, so maybe he is rusty after all. The handsome stranger raises an eyebrow.

“Zero points for originality.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian says. “I’m usually not this bad at flirting with strangers.”

This earns him a smile Sebastian chooses to read as amused. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“Trying to? I’m not usually this sober when I attempt it.”

“That, I can help with. What are you drinking?”

“What’s that?” Sebastian asks, pointing to the man’s drink.

“Whisky.”

He grimaces. “Nevermind. I’ll take a vodka soda.”

The man waves down the bartender with the air of someone who has been here before. When Sebastian has his drink in hand, he angles his stool toward the stranger. “I’m Sebastian,” he says.

Something hesitant flickers over his expression, just a fleeting moment, before he turns to him with an outstretched hand. “Luca.”

“Wow, a handshake, huh?” Sebastian can’t help but chuckle, even as he meets the firm grip with his own.

A sheepish smile graces his expression. “Sorry. Hard to get out of the professional headspace sometimes.”

“What do you do?”

Luca studies him for a moment, eyes darting over his face in search of… something. Finally, he says, “I’m in politics.”

“Ah.” Sebastian nods. “Should have guessed.”

“What about you?”

Sebastian’s fingers tense slightly around his glass. He briefly entertains the idea of concocting a fake backstory on the fly, but promptly remembers he’s a nervous liar and defaults to the simplest truth.

“I’m a doctor,” he says.

“Oh. Wow.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not,” Luca lies, then concedes to a guilty smile. “It’s just… you look young is all.”

“Thanks. Pretty soon I think they’re going to let me upgrade from safety scissors in the OR. If I’m really good.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, he’s quick with the jokes, too. What kind of medicine are you in?”

Well, this is one way to kill a mood fast. “Shop talk isn’t exactly what I was hoping for tonight,” he says.

The glass pauses halfway to Luca’s lips. He cocks an eyebrow. “And what, exactly, are you looking for?”

Now they’re getting somewhere.

“Depends. What are you offering?”

“Depends,” he echoes. “How much have you had to drink?”

Sebastian smirks. “If you’re into playing daddy, you could have just said so,” he flirts, and the words surprise even him coming out of his mouth. Maybe he hasn’t forgotten how to do this, after all.

It earns a surprised laugh. “How old do you think I am, exactly?”

“I’m not saying you’re my daddy,” Sebastian argues. “Theoretically, you could have a baby at home. Or maybe you had kids young. I don’t know your life.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Luca drawls. “And I don’t.”

“No kids,” Sebastian repeats. “What I’m hearing is… your place is empty?”

This… does not get the reaction he was hoping for. Luca's smile drops a bit, eyes averting to the bar.

“Oh,” Sebastian backtracks, sobering slightly. “I—Sorry, did I misread this? Oh god, please don’t tell me you have a wife.”

“I’m not married,” he assures him. “Definitely not to a woman. It’s just… my place. It’s not…”

Sebastian levels him with an appraising gaze. “I’m trying to decide if you're hiding a body or a rare Barbie collection." Luca flushes slightly and Sebastian decides to take pity on him. “Lucky for you, my hotel is three blocks away.”

Luca swallows down the rest of his drink and flags down the check.

****

As with every hot, steamy rendezvous, their night takes a brief interlude at a 7/11.

At this hour on a Friday night, the cast of characters includes one miserable cashier, a man reciting bible verses under his breath on a loop, and a gaggle of stumbling-drunk college kids. Sebastian’s eyes catch on one of the latter: a boy with blond curls and thin wrists protruding from his cuffed sleeves. For just a moment, at just the right angle before he turns, Sebastian sees a flash of Jaime, and the comparison sends a shockwave through his gut.

In another life, that could be him; laughing with his friends on a Friday night, arm slung around a girl with blue streaks in her hair, being slightly too loud in a public space.

It should be him. He should be here, living a normal, happy life, not holed up in Sam and Ezra’s guest room, waiting for the owner of his contract to come home.

“Next in line.” The cashier’s voice pulls him back to the present, and Sebastian blinks, realizing he’s suddenly a little more sober and a lot less horny than he was a minute earlier.

They lay their items on the counter—a three-pack of condoms, travel sized lube, and two bottles of water—and both pull out their wallets to pay.

“On me,” Luca says, pushing forward a silver Amex.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” Sebastian cheeks, trying to nudge them back toward the path of flirtation instead of depressive-crisis-in-a-convenience-store.

It almost works, too, until they step outside and a voice calls out:

“Senator Luke Bennett.”

Beside him, Luca stiffens. A man appears in front of them. He casts a look to the condoms and lube in the transparent bag, to Sebastian, then back at Luke. A smirk edges up his mouth and—wait.

Sorry. Did he just say senator?

“Is your boy not doing it for you anymore?” The man’s breath smells of liquor and mint when he leans too close. “I hear WRU has a good return policy for unsatisfactory performance.”

Suddenly, the senator bombshell doesn’t feel all that important. Sebastian takes a step back, watching the image of the attractive stranger warp before his eyes.

“You have a contract?” he asks.

“Ooo,” the man chuckles. “Didn’t mean to stir the pot.”

“No, Richard, that doesn’t sound like you at all.” Senator Luca is all ice.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Richard backs off with both hands raised and a smile firmly in place. “My best to Leo.”

Luke watches him retreat with cold steel in his eyes. When he’s gone, he turns to Sebastian, halfway through an apology. “Listen, I—”

“You have a fucking contracted worker at home?” Sebastian cuts in. “That’s why we couldn’t go back to your place?”

The look on his face is all the answer he needs.

“Jesus,” Sebastian scoffed. “I would have preferred a wife. God, I don’t know what I expected. I guess when-in-Washington, you’ve got to screen your hookups a little better. One, are you a conservative? Two, are you a fucking senator? Three, do you support the literal modern day slave trade?”

Luke’s jaw is cut in a way that might have been hot before Sebastian knew a few key details. He lifts his chin, keeping his voice infuriatingly even.

“I am in the public eye,” he says. “I have never been shy about my stance firmly against the system.”

“That’s one hell of a mixed signal you’re sending.”

And… okay. Sure. Sebastian is being a little bit hypocritical. But his situation… it’s different. Right? And highly unlikely that he just so happened to stumble upon a high ranking government official who just so happens to own a contract out of system resistance.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Luke says. “But I also can’t fault you for being angry. I’m glad you are. It means you’re one of the good ones. That being said…” He throws a half-hearted wave with the hand not holding a bag of condoms and lube. “It was nice meeting you.”

He’s a few steps down the sidewalk when something possesses Sebastian to call after him.

“What does that make you?” he says.

Luke stops.

“If I’m one of the good ones,” Sebastian repeats. “What does that make you?”

He turns back to Sebastian, and the honest look of sadness in his eyes catches him off guard.

“I try to be good for him,” he says. "I do my best."

And Sebastian knows he should let it go and walk away, but he hears himself respond anyway. “Yeah, you and every other prick who thinks they’re doing these people a favor. I know how that goes. I see it every day, what that kind of ‘goodness’ does to them.”

Luke’s brow furrows. Sebastian’s brain catches up to his mouth a few seconds too late.

Shit.

“What do you mean you see it every day?”

“I…” Sebastian scrubs a hand over his mouth, “You know what? Never mind.” He steps around him, making a beeline for his hotel. This time, it’s Luke who calls after him.

“Wait.”

Sebastian waits. Luke lowers his voice, closing the distance again. “Do you…?” His mouth shapes and reshapes a few attempts at words. “Are you in resistance work?”

Is it really a lie to leave out part of the truth? As long as the part you do say is still true? Probably best to go for avoidance altogether.

“If I was,” Sebastian says, “I probably wouldn’t run and tell the first government representative I meet.”

Something like recognition flashes in Luke's eyes. “You’re in town for the supply trade. A group of medical resistance workers were planning to network in the city this week.”

Sebastian takes a step back. He’s struck with the sudden paralyzing fear that federal agents were about to pop around the corner and drag him away.

“How do you know that?” he whispers.

“I…” Luke begins. “I know someone who does some work in that area. When he can.”

Sebastian crosses his arms. “Public opposition is one thing,” he says. “Knowledge of illegal action against the system is another, Senator.”

Finally, a bit of the hardness in his expressions gives way to a smile.

“Then I guess we know where my allegiances lie.”

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #the fighter #peachy-panic hold-him-down cinematic universe #crossover #bbu #like bbu adacent?#listen when i told you this was chaotic #i wasn't kidding #but it's a birthday present for holdy and she deserved a treat

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hold-him-down · 1 month ago

Note

"hey handsome. miss me?"

(humble request of smol fic, author's choice)

tw: implied past noncon, implied future noncon, institutionalized slavery

notes: follows this piece from this ask game

✥ ✥ ✥

“Hey handsome,” Parker says softly, sidling up next to Leo at the after-dinner buffet. Leo freezes, just for a moment, before gingerly laying the spoonful of strawberries onto his plate. There have been moments, over the last couple of years, where Leo has crossed Parker’s mind. Brief and insignificant as they may be, he would be lying if he said he never thought about the way Leo’s body would melt into his, or the way he would seize up when Parker went too far. “Did you miss me?” He lets his hand graze Leo’s lower back, aware that the senator would be hot on his heels.

Leo inches forward to break the contact, and Parker smiles.

“Parker,” Leo whispers. “You can’t be here.”

“Excuse me?” Parker replies, feigning shock. Leo tenses, but keeps his eyes on his plate. “I can’t be here? What, suddenly you’re fucking a senator and I’m no longer allowed to attend fundraisers?”

“Parker, please.” The edge of desperation that seeps into his tone is almost too much. Parker steps behind him, his fingers grazing Leo’s back. “He doesn’t know,” Leo whispers. What is that, shame? Embarrassment?

Parker scoffs. “Know what?” he asks. “That it used to be me bringing you to these events? Or that you used to beg in the bathrooms? Or,” Parker continues, “he does know all that, but he doesn’t know about this specific bathroom?”

“Parker, please… I–”

“Will you meet me there?” Parker interrupts, taking the spoon from Leo’s hand if for no other reason than if he continues holding it over the strawberries, he’s going to draw unwanted attention. “In the bathroom? Ten minutes?” He scoops himself a plateful.

“I can’t–” Leo starts, an edge of hysteria to his voice. God, it’s sexy. Still, Parker interrupts again.

“Allow me to rephrase. Meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes, or I’ll find something more interesting to do.” He opens his phone, angles it toward Leo, and starts scrolling through his pictures. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I have some videos I’m sure Senator Bennett would love to spend some time watching.” He shifts his focus to Leo’s face, acutely aware of Leo’s new buyer beelining directly for them. “I’ll see you in ten,” he whispers, closes his phone, and walks away.

#here's some brookfield place art #the fighter #implied future noncon #implied past noncon

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