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“Two nights ago, you were warning me that he was a dangerous man.” Maxwell shook his head in bewilderment. “Since when are you a Garrett apologist?”
That, of all things, made Sebastian blush. “Recently, I guess.”
Maxwell raised an eyebrow.
“Leon loves him like a brother.” Sebastian shrugged helplessly. “And I love Leon, so I guess I’ve started to give a shit about Garrett vicariously.”
Maxwell deflated, and the fight went out of him. “Well, I more than just give a shit about him, Sebastian. I don’t want to hurt him. I know he’s not Kurt. He’s…” Amazing. Perfect. Gentle. Intoxicating. Everything Maxwell had ever wanted.
“A good man, unfortunately,” Sebastian supplied.
Maxwell huffed a sad laugh. “He is.”
“So what’s the problem, Maxwell?” Sebastian ducked his head to meet Maxwell’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, the torvar thing is definitely gonna mess him up a little bit, but he’ll get over it. Especially if you tell him yourself.”
Maxwell shook his head, and cold memories shivered over his skin. “It messed up Kurt more than a little bit.”
Sebastian frowned. “We literally just agreed that Garrett and Kurt are not the same person.”
“They’re not that different, though.” Maxwell crossed his arms. Both loud, confident, gregarious, self-sacrificing, driven. “And Kurt changed after I told him.”
Sebastian grabbed Maxwell’s forearm, and Maxwell realized he’d been subconsciously edging away. “Kurt changed because he realized he had you. He didn’t need to play nice anymore.”
“Or I ruined him.”
“What?” Sebastian’s volume rose in his disbelief, and he shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know, Sebastian.” Maxwell pulled his arm free. “All I know is that I’ve been here before, and I ruined everything, and I’m not doing that again.”
Sebastian’s face set into stubbornness. “But Garrett—”
“Would be horrified if he found out.” Maxwell stepped close. “He would never get over that betrayal, and I can’t do that to him.”
Sebastian’s eyes flickered to the door, and Maxwell followed it to see Mal’ik, Oliver, and Patrick coming in. This conversation would be brought to an end soon, but Maxwell knew Sebastian wouldn’t let it go without trying to get the last word. “Except this isn’t really about him. This is about you being afraid to get close to him.”
“Of course I’m afraid.” Maxwell gripped the dart in his hands so tightly he felt the synthetic feathers at the end of them crumple in his palm. For the first time, he felt true anger toward Sebastian, and it must have shown on his face because Sebastian’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what sort of fantasy world you grew up in, but you have no idea what I’ve seen and what I’ve been through because of what I am, and I’m not going to risk everything just because a handsome man smiled at me.”
Sebastian pressed his lips together, and for a moment, it seemed like he might still try to argue, and Maxwell didn’t know if the rage in his chest could take it. But then Sebastian just shook his head and stepped back. He raised his palms again. “Alright. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Guilt stampeded over the anger in the face of Sebastian’s surrender, and Maxwell slumped. He glanced at Garrett, and the longing hurt. “I’m not trying to ruin everything.”
“I know that.” Sebastian grabbed Maxwell’s shoulder and, after a moment, pulled him into a hug. “No one could ever think that about you.”
One person could, at least, but Maxwell didn’t feel like arguing over the specifics anymore. He returned Sebastian’s hug a little awkwardly—they didn’t really do physical affection—and then leaned away. “We should go say hi to Oliver.”
“No need—they’re coming over.” Sebastian lifted his chin in a beckoning nod over Maxwell’s shoulder and then waved his hand.
Maxwell looked back to see all three new arrivals—Oliver Turner, Captain Mal’ik, and Patrick Smith—with drinks of choice in hand, making their way through the crowd, which parted to give them a large berth as they passed. Oliver and Mal’ik were much more accepted than they used to be after the weeks they’d spent building shelters, but they still got more suspicious looks than even Sebastian. Patrick—with his Klah’Eel uniform and gatlung slung over his back—could have been the Klah’Eel empire incarnate with the sort of looks he was getting.
Patrick spoke first, with his disarmingly boyish smile. “So this is the famous dartboard? The one you put Hess’s face on.”
Sebastian’s ears flushed red, and he glared at Oliver. “You told him about that?”
Oliver straightened his shoulders but had the grace to wince. “I did, yes.”
“I asked for the whole story.” Patrick pulled a stool over from a slightly farther table. “Your commander reacted with a bit more vitriol than I expected when I asked him to hand you over.”
That would be because Leon Hess was a lot more than just Sebastian’s commander. But he hadn’t always been, and the somewhat recent development in their relationship must have been why Sebastian looked more pleased than anything at Patrick’s comment.
