Chapter Text
They are in Sejanus’ room, when it happens.
The class had been assigned a project investigating district industries by their economics professor, and Coriolanus had immediately declared Sejanus as his partner. It was unexpected, but not really that surprising; Coriolanus had naturally chosen District Two as the subject of their project, and with access to Sejanus it was almost guaranteed that they’d top the class. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, and Sejanus is just glad that it was Coryo who thought up such a plan - they got along well enough with each other, and Coryo’s questions about District Two would at least be tactful compared to the rest of their peers.
(They got along very well with one another, and if it wasn’t for the way Coriolanus would swan off on his own for days at a time, Sejanus could almost believe that they truly were good friends.)
Sejanus had suggested they study at his apartments instead of the Academy library that evening, as there was the opportunity for them both to quiz his father about his own business ventures. That, and Sejanus quite liked the idea of introducing his Ma to Coryo - to prove that he actually did have a friend , that he was finally ‘settling in’ after all this time.
Maybe they were actually friends, or at least Coryo’s definition of friends: they worked together often enough on class projects, sat with one another at lunch at least once a week, and Coryo always waited for him to finish changing after gym class. Sure, they weren’t joined at the hip, but considering Coriolanus was so glacially independent, Sejanus felt lucky to even be allowed to exist within proximity to him.
(Sometimes Coryo would even laugh at his jokes. Genuinely, truly laugh.)
Ma had greeted them both in a fluster, pulling Coryo into an embrace so tight it made even Sejanus wince. She left them to set up shop in Sejanus’ room, reappearing with a tray of cinnamon cookies, sliced fruits and sweet tea. Coriolanus actually looked somewhat stunned by the display of treats, and it had taken every strength within Sejanus not to laugh.
Maybe the Snow family chef wasn’t as proficient a baker as Coryiolanus had bragged.
They turn to their project after that, and whilst the intricacies of market fluctuations after the war are far from riveting, they settle into an amicable quiet. Coriolanus asks questions, Sejanus answers them, and they take turns verifying information and scribbling down notes.
It’s comfortable, even relaxing, and every so often Sejanus sneaks a peek at Coryo when he’s writing, watching his hair flutter against his breath as he leans over, writing in that elegant and impeccable cursive that Sejanus has tried and failed to imitate on so many occasions.
After they cobbled together a plan, Sejanus suggests a break: Coryo hasn’t touched the cookies yet, and there’s still plenty of sweet tea.
(And he wants to push his luck, considering he knows for a fact Coriolanus never visits his classmates’ homes. How friendly does Coryo consider them to be?)
“You can take some home if you want,” Sejanus smiles, watching Coriolanus as he takes a delicate bite of biscuit. “Ma isn’t counting them. You could give one to your cousin?”
Coryo swallows, shaking his head.
“Thank you, but we’ll be quite alright,” he replies smoothly, “Cook has already promised us apple pie, I wouldn’t want to overindulge.”
Sejanus nods, helping himself to another.
“So, do you think we could have this finished by the end of the week?” He garbles through a mouthful of food, gesturing towards the mess of papers scattered around them. “We could hang ours in first, get extra credit even.”
Coriolanus watches on for a moment, nose slightly wrinkled, before retrieving a handkerchief from his satchel.
“You really ought to chew with your mouth closed, Sejanus, you’ve gotten crumbs everywhere ,” he scolds, reaching forward with the handkerchief, hand delicately balanced on a stack of books.
It happens all at once: Coriolanus reaches further forwards amidst Sejanus’ fit of laughter, and his balanced hand slips out from under him as the stack of books topples. On reflex Sejanus jumps forwards, and Coryo doesn’t quite catch himself, falling halfway onto him.
They’re left staring at one another, practically nose to nose, Sejanus gripping the left side of Coriolanus’ ribcage, one of Coryo’s hands pressed high up on Sejanus’ thigh.
Sejanus swallows, feeling the heat rise up his neck. Coriolanus seems frozen, but Sejanus distantly notes that his ears have turned pink as they peek out from his pale crown of curls. The hand against his thigh is cool, and large, and Sejanus can feel his heart rate rise.
This is not how he anticipated their study session ending.
Coriolanus breaks the spell when he finally rights himself, pulling himself out of Sejanus’ lap, settling himself at the edge of the bed, hipbone knocking against Sejanus’ knee.
“You’re blushing,” he remarks, lifting the handkerchief to wipe at the speckling of sugar on the right side of Sejanus’ face.
Sejanus splutters at that, weakly attempting to turn away. And is Coryo smirking ?
“Oh, stop it ,” Coriolanus hums, folding up the handkerchief, “I know you’ve been watching me in the changing rooms. I’m sure there’s a real reason you’ve invited me to your home?”
It’s utterly astonishing, Coriolanus saying these things so calmly. Like he’s somehow onto Sejanus.
And even if it’s a little true, if Sejanus is enamoured by the way Coryo’s hair falls, with watching his lean, tall figure cleaving through the Academy hallways. The way his hand holds a fountain pen and glides across a page - it’s not a crime to admire someone. And he is far from the only person that admires Coriolanus.
“You wait for me ,” Sejanus blurts out, struggling to hold Coriolanus’ gaze, “In the school changing rooms. I’m always last getting ready, and you always wait for me .”
“Maybe I’ve been watching you, too.”
Sejanus doesn’t have time to truly register what Coriolanus has said to him before soft plush lips press against his own, and oh .
Coriolanus is kissing him.
Coryo is kissing him, and clambering on top of him and pressing him firmly against the mattress by his shoulders. And Sejanus is kissing back, hand tugging at Coryo’s waist.
He can feel Coryo chuckling into his mouth before breaking the kiss.
“Someone’s eager.”
Sejanus flushes at that, avoiding Coriolanus’ gaze before a hand firmly grasps at his jaw.
“You-” He hardly knows what to say, brain short-circuiting as Coriolanus squeezes at his jaw. “What?”
“Let’s get back to work,” Coriolanus smirks, “before your mother walks in on us.”
Sejanus nods dumbly, skin tingling as Coriolanus delicately extricates himself from the tangle of limbs. By some miracle they manage to get a little more work done, and yet the whole time he cannot tear his eyes away from the shape of Coryo’s lips, the way his tongue darts out to wet them when he thinks.
And it’s not long before Coryo is suddenly making excuses, packing up his things and pulling on his school jacket. Ma insists that he bring home cookies for his cousin, and Sejanus walks Coriolanus to the door, heart hammering as he watches Coryo step over the threshold.
“I’ve been cycling to school recently, Sejanus,” Coriolanus states mildly, although his gaze almost bores into Sejanus’ very soul, “maybe you ought to join me. We could meet before the school day, and do some work in the library?”
Sejanus nods, slightly bemused.
“Well, at any rate I’ll be at school half an hour before first bell tomorrow,” Coriolanus smiles, eyes falling for a moment to Sejanus’ lips. “I suppose I’ll either see you then, or I won't.”
With that, Coriolanus turns on his heel, stepping down the marble steps and out into the evening air.
“I’ll see you then!” Sejanus calls out, and immediately winces at how desperate it sounds. Coryo waves in acknowledgment, and blends into the commuter crowds. Sejanus watches as that red jacket reduces into the distance, heart pounding at the promise of some clandestine, early morning rendezvous.
*
They do meet the following morning, and the morning after that, until they establish a comfortable routine of sneaky little trysts every few days behind the bike sheds, or in the lower levels of the school library.
They’re not together ; Coryo makes that quite clear a mere couple of days after that first hasty kiss, hands fisted in Sejanus’ shirt, pulling and pushing and pressing . They’re just having a little fun, making the school day more interesting.
It’s just like that stupid economics project, a mutually beneficial arrangement.
And if Sejanus gets to keep kissing those plush lips, feeling those strong hands press fingertip bruises into his skin, who is he to complain?