Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Vlad was frowning, his expression grim as he looked around. “You should have told me about it before we came.”
“Sorry,” Sebastian said, haltingly, averting his gaze. “You can go if you want. I know you don’t want people to think you’re gay.”
“Hey,” Vlad said, putting his large hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.”
When Sebastian did, Vlad gave him a hard look. “Don’t be silly. I’m not going anywhere. You should have told me because I would have gotten us more secure seats; that’s all.” He grimaced. “I know I was an ass to you, but did you really think I was going to get up and leave you alone?”
Sebastian stared at him and realized the answer was no. He hadn’t actually expected Vlad to throw him to the wolves. He’d stopped coming to football matches for a reason: while other fans never physically attacked him, their animosity and verbal abuse usually ruined all the fun. He had felt too unsafe to attend games on his own, and he wouldn’t have come if he really thought Vlad would leave him alone.
“No,” Sebastian said softly, smiling a little, and dragged his eyes away from Vlad before he could say something stupid like I feel safe with you here. He looked at the pitch and said with forced enthusiasm, “The match is about to start!”
His forced enthusiasm became genuine as the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the match. Sebastian focused his attention on the game and soon lost himself in the excitement of it. He hadn’t lied to Vlad: he didn’t attend football matches anymore and being at one was a rare treat for him. Unlike the last time he’d been at a Chelsea match, he felt relaxed and safe with Vlad by his side.
As the first half neared its end, Vlad touched his hand. “Your hands are blue. Are you cold?”
Only then did Sebastian realize his teeth were chattering. He had been so engrossed in the match he hadn’t even noticed he was freezing.
“Yeah, freezing,” Sebastian murmured, frowning down at the Saint Laurent coat he had painstakingly chosen this morning after an hour of trying on all his coats and jackets—something Vlad didn’t need to know about. While the coat looked good on him, it did little to protect him from the freezing wind.
“Aren’t you cold?” Sebastian said miserably. Vlad had only a thin jacket on but looked unbothered by the weather.
Vlad shook his head with a little smirk. “This is like a lovely spring day in Siberia.”
Rolling his eyes, Sebastian swatted him on the arm. “Drop the smug look, will you? Yeah, you’re a tough Russian and I’m a delicate English flower, yadda yadda.”
Vlad was outright grinning now. “Don’t you have gloves, English flower?” he said, taking Sebastian’s freezing hand between his palms and eyeing the knuckles.
“No,” Sebastian said, watching Vlad’s thick fingers stroke and knead his slimmer ones. A squirmy, fluttering feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He looked up at Vlad’s face. “Do you?”
A corner of Vlad’s lips twitched. “If I did, would you ask me to give them to you?”
“You should just give them to me so I wouldn’t have to ask,” Sebastian said with a little smile, and fuck, were they flirting? Abort, abort. They could not be flirting.
Snorting, Vlad let go of Sebastian’s hand and pulled a pair of leather gloves out of his pocket.
“Why do you have gloves if you aren’t cold?” Sebastian said.
“You never know when you need to break into someone’s place and not get caught,” Vlad said, offering the gloves to Sebastian.
That would be a joke coming from ninety-nine percent of people, but Sebastian had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t a joke at all.
“You aren’t serious, are you?” Sebastian said and only received a shrug in response, which could mean any number of things.
Sighing exasperatedly—and hopefully not too fondly—Sebastian took the gloves and put them on. They were a little too big but fit okay.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
Vlad stared at Sebastian’s hands for a moment before nodding and looking away.
Sebastian turned back to the pitch, feeling a little unsettled. He wasn’t sure how to behave around a Vlad who cared about whether he was cold or not. He almost wished Vlad had kept acting like an asshole toward him. Almost.
Doing his best to push the man beside him out of his mind, Sebastian focused on the match. He tensed when City’s striker dribbled past Chelsea’s defenders. Fuck, he’d better not—
He cheered loudly with the other fans when the striker missed.
The pace of the game picked up after that, both teams trading nail-biting moments. Sebastian became so engrossed in the match that it took him a while to notice that he was clutching Vlad’s arm with both hands in excitement and leaning all the way into Vlad.
He snatched his hands away.