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Whiskey Neat (Sebastian Sallow x You (m!MC)

(inspired by Hozier's "Too Sweet")

Summary: A chance reconnection in Cairo leads to you and Sebastian spending your lives together. After a lifetime of moving fast, Sebastian slows down after retiring from curse-breaking. Consequently, you start speeding up the older you get, so Sebastian reminds you that you can have a little fun, too.

Featuring: m receiving oral, men having fun consensual sex, lube, fucking against the wall, Bear!Sebastian. Sex is described. Two middle aged married men having sex.

Disclaimer: I'm not your parent. This is smut with feelings and plot. Read accordingly.

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“I’m retired.”

A constant refrain, every time you tried to remind him to look after himself.

“I’m retired.” He’d mumble through a smile, peeking his eye over his arm to take you in as you got up to watch the sunrise.

A bit of a half-truth, to be sure. He retired from the field. He did consultant work now, which meant he was home with you most days, the other days he’d be at the archives recording and organizing the curses he broke in the field. It meant over the summer he’d be at the Ministry training interns, fresh-faced Hogwarts grads who’s baby fat had yet to shed off their cheeks, who wanted to become curse-breakers. Those were longer hours apart than you were used to, but you made do and kept busy with the shop you ran out of the new extension you and Sebastian built together his first summer after “retiring”. With work right next door you two spent just enough time apart to miss the other, but were always just a door away.

It wasn't always like this.

At one point Sebastian moved quickly, not in the way of a hunted man, but in the way of a man who knew what he wanted and wasted no time going after it.

You and Sebastian had started in the least romantic way: you ended up in Egypt, Cairo to be exact, at the Alchemy Center for a Potions Apprenticeship that Pippin recommended you for. He’d said he’d taught you all he knew but there was more in you- and so within a few months all your belongings were packed, your Kneazles with Poppy while you were gone, and you were off to a new place you’d never been before.

You were, and yet were not, in the center of the city- it was a genius invention. Nearly like Hogsmeade, but rather than being in the middle of the Highlands, you were just under the Muggles’ noses. A city within a city.

The bar was called Bess, a play off the name of the Egyptian god of childbirth, fertility, war, and sexuality. You were seated, alone, when a raucous crowd entered and you had the luck to turn around.

His sunburn looked painful and his nose was already peeling. Due to the nature of the work he was unkempt but when he turned to look at you and those brown eyes glinted with the shine of recognition you were done in, just like you were ten years ago when he met you at the entrance of Hogwarts and said: “Fancy meeting you here.”

Because irony is a constant friend, the greeting was repeated, but the flirtation behind Sebastian’s: “Fancy meeting you here,” this time was interlaced with a tone that made your stomach flip as he invited himself to sit on the barstool beside you. His knee brushed yours as he leaned in and rested his elbow on the bar, so his chin could rest comfortably on a calloused, freckled hand. You swallowed hard and wondered if he was doing this on purpose-if he knew that the moment his knee touched yours, your stomach began to wind around itself and trousers grew tight.

He had to have noticed, you chastised yourself as you adjusted in your seat and there was a mischievous glint in Sebastian’s eye. (Later, well after you two established the “us”, he told you the moment he saw you he planned to at least fuck you, getting to have you in his life after was a bonus he was grateful for).

Up until this point, you two exchanged letters. Not frequently enough, you realized as you made each other laugh for the third time in a row. At one point as you stared at him, and he stared at you, you couldn’t for the life of you remember if you’d told him you would be in Cairo.

All you could wonder was if his sunburn just under his eye on his cheekbone hurt. If the freckles down his neck were new, brought out by the sun, or if they’d always been there and you’d forgotten.

Sebastian took whiskey neat and did the proper maneuver of drinking sips of water between his sips of whiskey while the two of you caught up. Somewhere there was a well-traveled gentleman underneath the curls and weeks-old beard.

“I feel terrible,” you said as you watched Sebastian’s throat move as he took a drink. “You’re here with your camp and I’m taking all your attention.”

“Ah,” Sebastian said once he’d swallowed. “I see those blokes every day, I can’t turn around without one of them in my face. You? You’re well worth it.” He said in a low voice, his face so close that you could smell the whiskey, and you knew you were putty in his hands. He finished his drink and you finished yours, and Sebastian paid for the both of you (tipping the bartender rather handsomely, you thought with a jolt of surprise- you already planned to sleep with him if he was keen, but tipping well was icing on the cake).

You took him back to your room and it was some of the best sex you’d ever had. The familiarity you’d re-established at the bar made it fun, and Sebastian fucked like a man for whom all time had stopped. He took his sweet time, while you were ready to move quickly, the excitement and build up teasing you to the point of madness, to the point where you were making too much noise and he laughed and covered your mouth.

“Don’t you live on this floor with a bunch of other people?” He asked low in your ear, and you nodded, his hand still over your mouth. You felt his smile against your cheek. “Then let’s see what it takes to wake everyone up.”

After he’d sucked your cock until your hips bucked and you covered your mouth while you moaned so you wouldn’t wake any neighbors, he came back up to kiss you and the whiskey taste was still there.

And it would stay there until the next time, literally the next day, when he’d knocked on your room’s door after his work was done for the day.

And then there was the next time, and the next time.

And the next time.

Sebastian fucked slow but moved fast, and it only took a handful of nights until he had a bag he kept in your room of necessities and your cohort members greeted him by name. They even had the audacity to ask you how he was doing if he was away for a bit longer than usual.

The taste of whiskey still made you think of that first night, of how when you were both satisfied you laid side-by-side catching your breath, the lights of the city the only light you had outlining each other’s bodies. Safe in the world that accepts men like the two of you, while still getting the benefit of a beautiful city just outside your window.

His story and yours intertwined the way most do: Sebastian’s work in Cairo was complete, and he was afraid this meant the end of the “us” you two established. One night before he and his camp were set to leave you laid in bed together, playing with each other’s hands while devising a plan to make the “us” last.

As Sebastian said goodbye to you at the door to your room, he kissed you with a ferocity that made your knees buckle and you realized that maybe falling in love wasn’t as frightening as it seemed.

What made it all the more real for you was Sebastian’s muttering: “I love you.” It was the first time he said it, but he said it with the weight of the full knowledge of what that meant, but with the thoughtlessness that comes with knowing you were in love for a long time that saying it just became like breathing.

You said it back. Of course you did. Sebastian moved fast and, when he did, it often meant your hand was in his as he moved.

Your training program ended and you returned to J. Pippin’s. Pippin felt comfortable enough to let you run the shop while he and Miss Lawang enjoyed a holiday together. You exchanged letters regularly with Sebastian, who wrote about visiting and reminiscing about Hogsmeade visits you’d shared in your fifth year together. When he visited the world burned brighter and you had to force each other out of bed to go out and act as a couple would, which often meant visiting with old friends. When he left the world and your bed felt empty, and his “spare” toothbrush mocked you from its place beside your “regular” toothbrush.

It was a rainy night in September when you were closing up shop and the bell atop the door rang. Before you could say anything you looked up and Sebastian was there, leaning with one hand against the door, soaked to the bone and clearly fresh from the field.

“Marry me,” was all he said. Always romantic, that one.

“What?” You replied. Always romantic, you are.

“I’m being promoted to Master Curse-Breaker and I can’t visit as often,” he explained as if he were being chased. “And I want to marry you, Merlin, I want to marry you. Not just because I love you. In case–”

You held up your hand because you knew what the end of that sentence entailed and the last thing you wanted was to consider that Sebastian could, and would one day, die. You’d told him before he wasn’t allowed to, and he always responded with: “I’ve got quite the winning streak going so far.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” you said, laughing as Sebastian rushed you and kissed you in a way that made the world fade away.

Sebastian moved fast and his career required him to move even faster, so you two were married quietly with only a few witnesses. He had a few weeks at home to adjust to being, and having, a husband before he was sent to look after his camp and you were left with the spare toothbrush, the photos, and the empty half of the bed once more. Years passed this way, a few months of being together, a few months apart, and the routine settled.

Sebastian’s retirement was routine in and of itself; an injury on the job that the board of directors considered enough to give him a reasonable pension and send him back to his husband alive.

Thus the “I’m retired” refrain began, and you loved it. You built the extension to the cottage that first summer, Sebastian cooked dinner every night, you fucked like it was those first few weeks after the wedding all over again. Now that he was home more often he put weight on that he not only needed, but extra that made him all the more attractive to you.

The routine settled anew with a new aspect to it, however: the fretting that comes with being in love and having a love.

There would be nights where you would fall asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night and see Sebastian still scribbling something on parchment, double-checking reference books, and chewing on a pencil as he worked. You’d sleepily pat his arm and he’d look at you, smile, then go back to work. A few nights you’d smell coffee and were too tired to tell him to put it away, to sleep, but you would try to convey it by rubbing his forearm.

You’d wake up early to get the shop ready and you’d kiss Sebastian awake, and he’d smile at you before falling back asleep. When he’d come find you in the shop, he’d lean against the counter and watch you work (and, of course, help, especially when it was busy).

“You should go to bed earlier,” You’d say, peering over your glasses. You were both getting older, greyer, and with that came your eyesight starting to fail. “All that work that late can’t be good for you. Neither’s the coffee I smell you drinking that late.”

Sebastian would laugh, wrap an arm around your waist, and kiss you. “You worry too much,” he would mutter into your lips. “I’m retired now, remember?” He'd tease, chuckling when you huffed and then he'd kiss you until you forgot why you were upset.

Of course the fretting went both ways. It was only natural.

When you’d fret over something of little importance, or you would be peering at the books well past the shop’s closing, Sebastian would tilt your chin up and look you in the eyes. He’d smile- a very specific smile, one you knew by heart now- and he would say: “You’re working too hard,” then he would kiss your forehead. “You need to let yourself relax a little.”

Sebastian still took his whiskey neat and you learned to develop a taste for it. One night while you were leaning against his side, his arm around you, you leaned your head back and kissed him and tasted whiskey. “Remember that first night in Cairo?” You muttered against his lips.

“Very well,” Sebastian said before kissing you again.

You swirled the whiskey and stared into it. “Humor me?”

“‘Course,” Sebastian said into your hair.

“Wake up with me tomorrow,” You wanted to turn your head to see his face, but his lips were still pressing soft kisses on the top of your head.

“For you, I will. Once.”

So you woke up a little earlier and made coffee the way he liked it- black. When he woke up he took the cup from your hands with a tired smile and drank it as he dressed. You led him outside and sat beside him in the small garden of potions ingredients you cultivated together, leaning against each other as the sun rose.

Sebastian took your hand and kissed the back of it before resting it in his lap.

That night you both went to bed early and when you rose, you let him sleep. There were some matters in your books you wanted to settle, and so you were seated in the study with your forehead in your hand, checking the ledger again.

“You’re not watching the sunrise,” Sebastian’s voice floated from the doorway.

You glanced over your spectacles. “Too much to work on,” was all you said. You saw his hands on the desk next, and tried to keep your focus on the ledgers.

“You,” he closed the book and you let out a small, indignant huff. “Are working too hard, and run too tight of a ship.”

“Sebastian,” you pushed the chair away. “I have to.”

“You don’t,” Sebastian’s eyes were gleaming as he looked at you. “You can have a bit more fun, you know, like we used to.”

“We’re older now,” you stood up, your voice gentle. “We have to.”

“Do we, now?” Sebastian tutted as you walked around the desk. “We can have fun. If there's one thing I learned being out in the field is that we always think there's enough time until there isn't.”

At that you looked at him and remembered when he came home to you permanently, crying and telling you how much he loved you. You told him the same (of course, while crying), and you knew that Sebastian was right.

“Listen, you take very good care of the shop, of the cottage, of us,” Sebastian traced a finger down your jaw. “You,” he said as he tilted your face to align with his. “Are quite the wizard, but I think you need to let loose a little bit more.”

“Oh?” You say, voice soft as your lips brush his. “And how do I do that?”

That’s when he kisses you. Soft, at first, then as he can’t help but smile into the kiss it grows deeper, hungrier, and just like it did back in Cairo, just like it did whenever Sebastian began to touch you, your body responded to his touch and your arms wrapped around his neck.

That’s when he moves you against the wall and wastes no time unbuttoning your trousers and shirt to expose skin for his lips to explore. Skin he’s seen hundreds of times before but kisses like he’s only just discovered it, skin that rises in goose pimples when you unbutton his shirt and your skin brushes his.

“How’s that?” He asks you, lips pressed into your neck repeatedly, occasionally throwing in his teeth for a kick that makes you gasp.

Your hands move to his trousers and he helps you pull them down, then brings one of your legs up around his bare hip.

It just took a quick Accio for the little tube of oil you kept at the side of the bed to end up in Sebastian’s hand, his leg bent to keep yours around his hip as he lubricated his cock and then set the oil on the bookcase that was off to the side, then brought his hand to your cock and began to stroke it.

“Wait–” You didn’t really want to wait. But it felt like you should say something, at least, through the way you were beginning to breathe heavily. “We’ve…here?”

Years of marriage, and you’d never fucked in the study.

“Here,” Sebastian said as he kissed you again. “What do you think? Let loose a little bit.”

“Here,” You replied with a nod and Sebastian’s smile turned devious as he hoisted you up so your legs were around his hips while he fucked you against the wall.

It wasn't one of those quick “we've got other things to do, but I need your body right now”, not one of those “it's been a while” romps.

It was slow, deliberate, Sebastian’s hips moving as slow as they could.

Sebastian fucked you just like that first night in Cairo: like a man who stopped time just for this moment, the world frozen in time just for him. And your world was Sebastian's breath on your neck, his cock, his hips, his stomach, as your head tilted back and you let pleasure take over. You couldn't even remember what you were worried about. As far as your brain was concerned, this was your reality and would be until you keeled over in this position.

Sebastian's arms were focused on keeping your legs wrapped around him, and so you let a hand drift towards your own cock and you watched his hips move towards and away from you with the deliberate movement of a man focused on making sure his partner was feeling every.single.moment of movement.

Oh, and you did. The sounds you made in Sebastian’s ear proved it.

Being fucked against the wall added newness. Your back bounced a little, your legs were starting to feel sore, you were a bit concerned about what would happen should either of you slip, but there was a franticness to it.

An excitement. Like there was the worry someone might walk in and find you, and the fun was you still wanted this moment to move slow and Sebastian’s hips moved so seamlessly as he fucked you that as you watched him and felt his breath on your neck as he moaned your name, the hand you were using to jerk yourself off began to move faster.

Your free hand lost itself in the greying curls so you could give a small tug on Sebastian's hair. He'd moan- he always did when you tugged his hair- then he'd take the hint and kiss you.

When you came you moaned Sebastian’s name and he kissed your neck before he whispered a cheeky: “Well done,” which just made you laugh and you heard him laugh into your neck.

You knew each other well now that when a small line began to form between Sebastian’s eyebrows that he was getting close. You'd first noticed it during night 3 of your “reconnecting” in Cairo and found it so endearing you memorized it.

You'd had sex countless times since that first night Cairo and there was still a distinct pride in hearing Sebastian’s breath begin to quicken even further because that was all your doing, your body, your ass.

Sebastian's face pressed into the crook of your neck. His hands tightened on your thighs, the fingernails beginning to leave an indent, and you could only respond by kissing his neck and, for the first time in years, leaving marks on the skin like a frenzied teenager.

Sebastian stilled and you heard a soft thump by your ear as his forehead rested against the wall, his breath heavy, and his lips then moved to your neck, up to your jaw, then finally your lips. You were both sweaty, but when you caught a look at Sebastian’s forehead sweat, you chuckled and wiped some away with the sleeve of your shirt. He had that half-smile that always made your heart skip a beat, his face flushed.

“Feeling better?” Was the first thing he said, and you loved him for it.

“Much,” you said as Sebastian safely maneuvered so your feet could be back on the ground. You steadied each other as your knees wobbled, and both of you laughed, Sebastian’s hand on the wall right beside your head and you leaning back up against the wall, still taking him in.

Maybe you were being a bit uptight, you realized.

So two days later you both stayed up late and you fucked Sebastian on the study desk.

Then the next day Sebastian watched the sunrise with you, each of you with coffee in hand.

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