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The chill in the air has mostly dissipated by the end of April, as the last signs of winter fade into spring and the sun begins to rear its head more often. Nick spends whatever time he can outside, basking in the warm breeze and the rippling of the grass during the afternoons. The mornings, aside from the weather, remain much the same; except now, he and Sebastian don't necessarily have to take refuge in the dining hall, and can find a deserted table to sit at outside, their voices hushed and their knees bumping every few seconds. Sebastian keeps his head lowered much of the time, shooting sidelong looks at Nick whenever he says something amusing, the corner of his mouth tipping upwards and his eyes twinkling. Nick, meanwhile, often finds his eyes straying to Sebastian's hands as he remembers what it felt like to have their palms clasped together, Sebastian's fingers roughly textured, yet gentle against his own. His palms are slightly calloused, from what, Nick isn't too sure, and he keeps his fingernails short, always neatly clipped. Why Nick himself has catalogued these things, he again can't say, but sometimes, he thinks about what it would be like to reach out and slip his hand back into Sebastian's own, whether it would alter the consistently fond expression on Sebastian's face at all.
The last morning in April, Sebastian leads him silently across campus, and Nick doesn't bother with asking about their destination. He merely follows along at Sebastian's side, his hands tucked into the pockets of his track pants and the hairs on his arms bristling slightly in the morning breeze. It's warm enough that Nick has even forgone his sweatshirt, and Sebastian appears to have done the same, the lean muscle of his biceps just poking out from beneath his short sleeves.
Eventually, Sebastian comes to a stop in front of a large oak tree, his eyes falling to the plaque at the base of it. Nick knows that this particular tree had been planted at the time of the school's founding, in honor of the first president Richard T. Dalton, and it really is a lovely sight; towering branches that droop just enough to shield the observer from the sky above, the leaves full and green. He doesn't know what's caused Sebastian to bring him out here today, however, and waits patiently for the other boy to speak, his own gaze tracing the knots that criss-cross the front of the tree trunk in absent fascination.
Awhile later, after a long moment of quiet has passed, Sebastian finally murmurs, "I've been thinking about something."
"I'm sure that was painful," Nick replies dryly, and Sebastian simply nudges him with an elbow, effectively silencing him. Nick huffs out a chuckle and then turns slightly so that he is facing Sebastian, watching the line of his profile curiously. Softly, he asks, "thinking about what?"
"This," Sebastian answers, keeping his eyes focused on the tree in front of them. "Me...you," he clarifies, still avoiding Nick's gaze.
"Sick of me by now?" Nick jokes weakly, despite the apprehension that has begun to curl in his stomach. Sebastian finally looks his way, shaking his head with the tiniest of smiles, and Nick ends up biting down on his lip and staring at the ground, his fingers beginning to tremble. He and Sebastian have been perfectly fine since the incident back in January- better than fine, even, but the anxiety still swirls around in Nick's chest, leaving him uncertain as to what exactly Sebastian is getting at.
"Just...be serious for one second, alright?" Sebastian requests quietly, and Nick swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. "I wanna ask you something."
"Go for it," Nick manages to say, and Sebastian takes a deep breath. His chest rises, falls, and he closes his eyes for a split second as if preparing himself, his lips pursed in thought. A minute later, he opens them again and peers directly down at Nick, his left hand rising to scratch almost nervously at the back of his neck.
"It's...I know it's not necessarily the norm, and probably sort of out of the blue, but...you should go to prom with me," he murmurs.
Nick blinks. He immediately pictures all of the hoards of Crawford Country Day girls in their dresses, the Dalton guys in their suits while some crappy pop song plays in the background, and then tries to place Sebastian into that picture, and it just doesn't fit. He tries to imagine he and Sebastian together into that picture, and it's just as skewed, but despite the initial shock and hesitancy, Nick finds that he really, really wants to say yes.
"You're asking me to prom?" he repeats, and Sebastian gives a small shrug of his shoulders before looking away.
"Yeah?" he replies carefully. "You don't have to say yes, it's just- it'd be a lot of fun to spend it with you, you know?"
"Are you sure?" Nick asks stupidly, and Sebastian's nerves seem to dim somewhat at that, a soft laugh escaping him.
"I'm pretty sure," he says slowly, and then he reaches out for Nick's hands, their fingers slipping together before he reels the smaller boy in. "Here, maybe you just need some convincing."
With that, Sebastian is dropping one of Nick's hands and settling his now free palm against the dip of the boy's spine, while their clasped palms rest up somewhere by their shoulders. Nick's head barely meets Sebastian's collarbone, and he's so bewildered that Sebastian is essentially maneuvering him into what must be meant to resemble a slow dance, but it's still ridiculously perfect, and he ends up chuckling into Sebastian's chest, their feet shuffling quietly through the grass.
His laugh catches Sebastian's attention, because then he is speaking. "See, we'll dance just like this...and I'll tell stupid jokes in your ear," he murmurs quietly, before tucking his fingers more tightly in against Nick's lower back. "I'll probably sing along, too. I also look great in a bow tie, and all of the Crawford Country Day girls will be really jealous."
"Because you'll be choosing to dance with me?" Nick can't help but ask, his smile hidden in Sebastian's shoulder.
"No, because you'll be choosing to dance with me," Sebastian responds.
Nick's breath hitches.
"Will there be food at this joint?" He forces out, as casually as possible, and Sebastian hums his affirmation against Nick's temple.
"Very high-quality. And we can even get matching boutonnières."
Making a thoughtful sound, Nick pretends to ponder the suggestion. "It sounds pretty cliché to me," he says eventually, resisting the urge to shudder when Sebastian's fingers slide down to his hip and give it a light squeeze.
"Isn't that the point?" he replies in a low voice.
"...just don't expect me to put out," Nick finally decides, and he can feel it when Sebastian smiles into his hair.
"I would never. I'm a true Dalton gentleman, after all," he declares.
*
Nick's fingers are shaky as he adjusts his tux, his eyes scanning across his reflection. He's done his best to gel his hair in a presentable fashion, and his shoes are finely polished and slacks well-tailored. He's as ready as he'll ever be, but he's still unreasonably nervous, and Jeff keeps laughing at him, insisting that he just try and relax. His own date, Meredith, is a fellow senior at Crawford, and she had arrived just a few minutes before in a stunning blue dress, with her hair swept elegantly onto the top of her head. Now, they are just waiting on Sebastian, and then the four of them will head downstairs to the bus that will take them to the hotel in Columbus where the event is being held.
Nick's feet keep tapping anxiously against the floor, his hands wringing together in his lap, and Meredith giggles from her spot next to Jeff, saying gently, "everything's going to be fine, Nick."
Nick offers her a strained smile in response, and then there is a knock on the door, and Nick is bolting up to his feet. "I've got it," he says robotically, and ignores the next laughs that Jeff and Meredith stifle behind their hands as he smoothes down his clothes one last time and then slowly opens the door. He exhales a slow breath before being greeted by the sight of Sebastian, who of course looks- well, he looks incredibly handsome, but Nick hadn't been expecting anything less. His suit fits him perfectly, and his hair contains just the right amount of gel that it appears to be formally done, but not overly so. His eyebrows both rise as soon as he sees Nick, and then his gaze is dragging along the full length of his body, the attention causing Nick to fidget nervously.
"Well, you clean up nicely," Sebastian finally murmurs, and Nick chokes out a laugh, heat creeping up the line of his neck.
"You don't look so bad yourself," he mumbles, lifting his head, and Sebastian simply grins at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Alright, losers, let's get out of here. We've gotta meet for pictures," Jeff announces, and then the four of them make their way down the stairs and out into the courtyard, where a larger group of students is gathered. Nick's hands are trembling so harshly that he nearly stabs Sebastian while attempting to pin on the boutonnière, to which Sebastian responds with a gentle laugh and a murmured relax, his fingers gripping Nick's wrist fleetingly and squeezing. They are shuffled around for pictures with most of the rest of the Warblers and their dates, and then they board the buses and are off to Columbus, Sebastian's arm a steady source of heat where it is pressed against Nick's the entire time.
The next few hours pass rather quickly. Dinner is some entree that Nick probably can't pronounce, and the ballroom in which the dance is being held is spacious and grand, done up with stereotypical twinkling lights and a cheap sound system. Sebastian keeps up a steady stream of conversation, only pausing at one point to reach out and carefully adjust Nick's bow tie from the seat next to him, to which Nick mumbles out his thanks and then proceeds to turn bright red.
He doesn't know what's gotten into him tonight; this is just Sebastian, and it is like any other day when the two of them are spending time together. Still, Nick is uncharacteristically nervous, and it shows. His responses to Sebastian are more stilted than usual, his stomach a jumble of knots, and eventually, Sebastian just sighs and grabs onto his hands, tugging him out to the dance floor and sidling in close.
"I'll say it again: you need to relax," Sebastian declares, head ducked in close to be heard over the music. Nick huffs softly and tilts his head back to meet the taller boy's eyes, his nose wrinkling.
"I'm trying," he grumbles.
"No, you're not," Sebastian says simply, and then his hands are grasping Nick's hips and pulling him in even closer, forcing his body into rhythm with the music. "Look, we're supposed to have a kick-ass time, and even though I know I look unnaturally fantastic tonight, you don't have to freak out. It's just us, okay?" he reassures, fingertips digging lightly into Nick's waist.
Nick swallows thickly and manages a tiny nod, attempting to crush the fluttering sensation in his stomach and listen to Sebastian's advice. It's just us. And he's right; it's them, like it always is. Nothing has to be different if Nick doesn't want it to be.
And so, he lets go. He opens up to Sebastian's dumb comments and jokes, dances until his forehead is sweaty and his hair is plastered to his head and successfully ruined. The two of them grin foolishly at each other the entire time, jostling one another and flailing their arms and making general idiots of themselves, and it's amazing. They both shed their jackets at some point, Sebastian loosening his bow tie and Nick rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, but aside from that, they don't leave the dance floor, even when Nick's legs are beginning to grow sore. Each time their bodies brush together, it's like a million tiny pinpricks of heat fire up along the point of contact, and all Nick is really aware of is Sebastian. The way his hair starts to uncurl from the gel, the perspiration along the line of his neck and the obvious happiness that paints his features. He's more carefree than Nick's ever seen him, and it's pleasing, to know that Sebastian is truly having a good time.
Of course, there are the slow dances, and Sebastian doesn't hesitate to pull Nick into the same position as the other day beneath the oak tree, his breath coming out in soft huffs against Nick's ear. His hand is warm and steadying where it is wrapped around Nick's, and they weave absently about the room, feet matching each other's movements. These are the rare moments when Sebastian chooses not to say anything, and the silence between them is comforting. It's more reminiscent of their everyday relationship, which Nick is grateful for.
He isn't sure what time it is when they announce the final song, but to be honest, he doesn't really care, either. Sebastian fingers skim along his spine gently, and then he touches his mouth to Nick's temple, a soft press of lips that Nick feels all the way down to his toes.
"Thanks for saying yes," Sebastian murmurs.
Nick tucks his nose into the boy's shoulder, replies, "you weren't that terrible of a date, I guess."
He hears Sebastian snort ungracefully, and it causes him to smile. "You think you're funny, don't you?" Sebastian asks.
"You're just easy to rile up," Nick mumbles.
"We're sort of ruining our last dance," Sebastian announces a moment later, and Nick can't help it, a loud laugh escaping him.
"How tragic," he agrees, but then Sebastian is stepping away from him and sliding his fingers around Nick's wrist to pull him towards the door. Nick stumbles along behind him, slightly confused but following anyway, and it's only once they emerge out onto the pool deck behind the hotel that he realizes they've left their jackets inside (not that it matters much). Sebastian's thumb is pressed firmly against the edge of Nick's palm, and he urges Nick closer with a tug on his hand, his eyes a shade darker in the dim lighting. The pool lights reflect across his face, shimmering and casting both of them in a soft glow. Eventually, Nick is so close that he has to tip his head back a near-painful amount just to hold Sebastian's gaze, and Sebastian just offers him a timid grin, twining their fingers fully together at their sides.
"You're pretty dumb, you know that?" he says finally, and Nick blanches, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"How am I dumb?" he demands.
"For starters, you nearly stabbed me," Sebastian points out.
Nick grumbles unintelligibly beneath his breath, glad that Sebastian can't see the flush on his cheeks in the darkness. "I was nervous."
"And just what had you nervous, Mr. Duval?" Sebastian teases, and Nick drops his eyes to stare down at their entwined hands. His stomach is consistently doing backflips, the fluttering in his chest back full-force, and he doesn't quite know what to say.
Luckily, Sebastian figures it out for him.
"You're kind of stupidly beautiful," he comments quietly, and Nick's head snaps up, his eyes growing wide. "I mean, I guess I didn't really notice at first- you were just this guy in the Warblers, no big deal. But actually getting to know you, it was like...there's just so much to you, Nick. You're talented, and you're kind, and smart, and after spending Christmas with you, I just...I got scared. I don't think I ever really apologized for what I did to you, because I think I knew then..." Sebastian pauses mid-sentence, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Nick simply stares at him, shocked and utterly at a loss for words. All he can do is squeeze Sebastian's hand and prompt him to continue. "Anyway. I guess what I'm trying to say is that...you're pretty amazing. And you should give yourself a lot more credit."
Nick's breath is caught in his throat, and an ache is slowly spreading throughout his chest, so prominent and unexpected that it leaves him winded. He can't take his eyes off Sebastian's face, the raw honesty he sees there, or the way his free hand curls around the side of Nick's neck, his thumb smoothing along the edge of Nick's jaw. It's as if they're frozen, hovering on the edge of something, and it's up to Nick if they proceed into the fall or not.
"I was really pissed at you," he finally whispers.
Sebastian replies simply, "I know."
And then is he leaning down while Nick surges upwards, their mouths colliding somewhere in the middle. Nick's fingers curl in the front of Sebastian dress shirt, and Sebastian's palm slides up to frame the side of Nick's face, his lips warm and gentle and perfect. Nick's heart is hammering against the inside of his chest, and his neck aches from being bent at such an awkward angle, but he can't really find it within himself to care. Sebastian's chest is firm beneath his hands, his mouth tasting faintly of mint, and Nick is spiraling, down, down, with no end in sight.
He can't help but hope it never comes, anyway.