A Little Space Invasion Ain’t So Bad
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#2
One busy, busy, busy as Hell Friday evening, a curious free-spirited fella found his way to Chris Evans’ office.
“Knock, knock.”
Chris’ work momentum broke the moment he saw who just poked his head - and his very intense pair of blue eyes - through the door.
“Hello, Mr Evans.”
“Sebastian! Hello!”
The photographer’s smile was just as wide. “May I come in?”
“Of course!” The CEO nodded, grabbing for the papers that were strewn everywhere on his table in attempt to to stack them together. Still a goddamn war zone, though. Meh.
“Sorry, I’m just going through some reports right now.”
The other man acknowledged the mess. “I can come again next time if you’re busy.”
“No, no. Please, come on in and sit down, Sebastian.”
“Aright.” The photographer took the seat in front of his desk, leaning all the way back and crossed his legs. “Thank you, Mr Evans.”
Chris cocked a brow. “What’s with the formality?”
“Well. I just found out that you’re the Christopher in Christopher’s Haven, hence showing you my respect.”
“Seriously, Sebastian? Please don’t,” Chris chuckled, already entertained by the brown-haired man’s playful nature.
“This is a very pleasant surprise! It’s good to see you again, man. How are you?”
“Likewise. I’m doing great. You can say I don’t really miss the hustle and bustle of the City life after living here for a while. You?”
“Good to know. I’m, as you can clearly see, busy as ever. Visiting your little Kare-Bear?”
“Yes, earlier. Was wondering when I’d run into you. Karen told me I just missed you doing your usual rounds at the wards. Naturally, I went to look for a Chris Evans at the caretakers’ lounge.”
The blonde was tickled. “You thought I was a nurse.”
“Imagine my surprise,” he laughed, a little sheepish at the discovery. His bright eyes twinkled. “CEO, huh?”
“Yeah,” Chris replied, humble. “This hospital’s my dad’s legacy. May have my name but I run it in his memory.”
Sebastian’s head tilted, questioning. “His memory?”
“He passed away after I graduated from university. Been running the business ever since.”
“Sorry to hear that. You must feel honored.”
“Thanks. I am. I mean, I’m doing my very best to keep it going.”
“Kare-Bear likes it here. Says it should be called Heaven.”
“Heaven? Oh. She’s awfully sweet.”
“Uh-huh. You’re the CEO and you make effort to hang out with your patients - that’s immensely sweet, too.”
The blonde felt the weight of his profession lifting from his shoulders upon hearing such comforting words. In a world where love and laughs are the greatest medicine for innocent lives, it was most important that he could make some souls happy through this legacy. In return, this reminded him how much and why he loved his job, no matter how insane or manic the corporate side of it could get (his office was a living testimony of that).
He usually wouldn’t talk a lot when he was neck-deep in work mode, too but something about Sebastian’s presence right then just pulled him out of that zone and made him take a step back, relax a little. He just hoped he didn’t bore the guy to death with a snippet from his life story, though.
So before that happens. “Thanks for dropping by at the most happening side of the compound, by the way.”
“I can see that,” the photographer chuckled. “Actually, I have an agenda. I was hoping to get dinner with you.”
“Dinner.”
“I’d like to personally thank the man who saved Martha’s sanity.”
The brown-haired man’s smile stretched.
“Being a single mom and with Karen’s condition, she took a lot of hits. She can focus on many things now that her baby's really well taken care of here. We owe it to the real life hero and his entire squad at your Haven.”
“Oh.” Chris was very flattered. His grin couldn’t get any bigger. “No need to thank us, we’re just doing our jobs. Ah. Don’t mind me asking - are you and Martha…?”
“No,” Sebastian went, somewhat amused by Chris assumption. “We’re just really good friends. She’s seeing someone at the moment too, so…”
“Ah. Good for her.”
“She deserves a good man. Anyway, about dinner.”
His blue, blue,blue as Hell eyes then shifted to the mountain of papers Chris just stacked at the corner of the table.
“You, sir, really look like you could start the weekend with a good plate of steak and a big glass of wine.”
Correction. More like a whole bottle of it!
“I…” Chris looked at his workload and then the time on his wrist and then his calendar.
“...Hmmm.”
Sebastian on the other hand, was quick to pull out an ultimatum. “But if you wanna continue to slave the night away, go on. I can still cancel the reservation.”
The CEO’s brows rose. “You already made reservations?”
“Of course.”
Chris liked that Sebastian had initiative but he could at least give it him a heads-up. He had been wearing the same shirt since morning and felt like it was a major problem.
“Where are we going? What time are we supposed to be there? Is it difficult to get a table?”
“Don’t worry. It’s pretty casual. Mostly. And yes, it’s a Friday night but seriously, no need to worry about your outfit.”
The CEO was impressed. “How’d you know?”
“Appearance is usually the first thing people would mind but seriously, don’t think too much about it.”
It was easy for Sebastian to say - he was wearing a denim-type button up shirt with sleeves folded up his forearms and a pair of sleek black slacks. His shoulder-length hair was combed back into well-styled medium pomp waves at the top, while the rest of it was tucked neatly behind his ears.
Simply-dressed but handsome as Hell Sebastian Stan was ready to kill the ladies that night and Chris Evans looked like a yeah, a boring, over-worked young executive.
No worries, my ass.
The one with the crazy blue eyes leaned forward in his seat, his expression suddenly so serious. “I take it that you’ll need only a minute to keep those?”
Chris burst into laughter, amused by Sebastian’s determination to get him out of there. To be very honest Chris didn’t think he wanted to leave his work incomplete because he saw no end to it - he wanted to go because the photographer was going to be great company above good food and wine.
He kind of needed someone fun and easy-going to chill with after a long, treacherous week in the office.
“Well...it’s not like I’m gonna get things done by midnight anyway, right?”
Sebastian nodded in that agreeing at 110% kind of way.
To which Chris let out an anxious sigh. “Can I at least change out-“
The photographer was so damn done with the delay.
His prompt could have murdered something, it really could. “We are leaving in less than one minute, Mr Evans.”
Well, then. Hello to Friyay it is!
“Okay, okay!”
Flashing the other man a happy smile, The CEO stood up and collected the paperwork in his hands.
“Let me put this away and then we’ll go.”
According to travelpedia platforms, West Coast’s hippest street was called Abbot Kinney. Surprisingly, it was fairly quiet for a Friday evening.
However and as mentioned, the place where the photographer brought the CEO was packed with patrons. Eventually, Chris came to forget minding the increasing volume of highly-spirited individuals welcoming the start of the weekend around them because the food was ridiculously bomb. Sebastian wasn’t kidding about his recommendation - Chris thought his sirloin cut was so damn delicious, he wished he could eat it forever.
The blonde was glad he could catch up with Sebastian ever since their costume party stint at Karen’s birthday celebration last month. They never did exchanged numbers in the first place, so it was great that the guy knew where to find him. In the past hour, Chris came to know that Sebastian was putting up in the other side of his neighbourhood and was, in his own words, ‘so very happily engaged’ to a couple of high-profile projects and shoots in Downtown Los Angeles in the next few months.
They had a lot of things in common, too. Way too many, in fact. Chris couldn’t remember clicking with anyone so fast and so easily like he did with Sebastian - and he only knew the guy for less than two months!
Time went by and one topic shifted to another. Relationships. Having one, the brown-haired man said, was not a priority at that moment.
Chris understood that completely. The photographer admitted that he had been looking high and low, though - for a new place to live.
After a couple of months of settling into the coast life and putting up in Long Beach in a rental condo, Sebastian decided to look into buying a whole apartment or even a small house in the areas of Venice and Santa Monica for himself.
“Preferably a beachfront home,” Sebastian was stating as they continued to talk about property.
“Houses are expensive around this area, man.”
“Money is not a problem for me - I love the vibe here. I’d look around for agents but I’m kinda in a rush to move out and you know how agents are with the visiting and everything. I know you, and you know everyone in this hood…”
Chris snorted, amused. “In a way.”
“In a way, yes,” Sebastian echoed, chuckling. “Yeah, figured you’d know someone or two who’s looking to sell a place away,”
Chris ran a quick memory lap. “Hm. I do actually know someone who ever talked about selling her townhouse but I gotta check with her again. May take some time, though.”
“I’d like to say take your time but honestly, the sooner the better.”
Why the rush, really? “I’ll let you know soon. You okay with living in a rental around here for the time being?”
“Here? I guess, yes. As long as the landlord or lady’s a normal person. With normal person habits. Kinky is fine, as long as normal.”
Kinky is fine, what a joker. “Your landlord isn’t a normal person?”
“He is ultra Jewish. No offence but ultras are...urgh with a capital U, know what I mean? I like him but no, man. You should see the amount of David’s stars hanging in the living room. It’s practically a galaxy on its own. I cannot take it anymore!”
Chris laughed at the mental picture of it before an idea came to him. He had two spare rooms and one of them was vacant most of the time. Since he gave up on turning the bigger space into a gaming enclave…
Without any further hesitation, he went, “why don’t you live with me for the time being? I’m up in Marina Del Ray.”
“The place with all the snazzy yachts and boats? ”
“Yeah. My apartment’s quite big - about a thousand eight square feet or so? It’s on the higher floor of the building. I get good sunset views, the sea. Relaxing. Since I live alone…”
Sebastian was not convinced by that. “Really? Thought you have a nice girl living with you.”
“No,” Chris went. “What makes you say that?”
“The crisp iron lines on your shirts,” Sebastian said, grinning. “I can cut myself if I get any closer to you.”
“So I’m more of a prim and proper kind of guy! Nothing wrong with liking well-ironed clothes, right?”
“Mmm hmm.” The brown-haired man rolled his tongue a little. “Too shy or too scared?”
“Too busy!” Chris sighed sheepishly, breaking into chortles at that sad fact in his personal life.
“You know what that’s like. So how’s about it? Give me your number. I’ll come back to you by the end of tomorrow. If you’re okay with the monthly fees-“
Sebastian’s toothy smile widened before he gave the blonde a firm, agreeing nod. Didn’t even wait for Chris to finish his proposal - the one with the crazy blue eyes was that quick to seal the deal.
Chris leaned back in his chair, pulling a smirk at the guy with, “anytime this week, I suppose?”
“Friday. Care to help me settle in?”
“SEBASTIAN!!!!”
His housemate looked up from his iPad, startled from whatever that he was engrossed with to see Chris glaring so hard at him.
“Dude, I’m right here. Why are you screaming?”
“I’m screaming because of this!”
Chris brandished his finger at the open doors of his refrigerator, horrified. “Where’s all the beer?”
“Oh.” Sebastian pursed his lips and went back to his gadget like zero fucks given. “I removed them.”
Chris almost died. “What?!”
“I removed them. You need to cut back on the alcohol, my friend.”
“Why!” Fucking kidding me! “Why are you doing this?”
“For your own good. You’re generally healthy and have such a nice physique going on. But what good can all that muscle do when your liver’s fucked up?”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. Chris knew they ever talked about it (many times, in fact) but he wasn’t expecting it to really god damn happen - especially when his new housemate decided that it was his call to make.
“Still. You can’t just remove them without telling me,” Chris replied, angry.
“Seb, you have no rights to do that!”
Sebastian pushed his bangs off his face, his expression not showing an ounce of empathy.
“I know I don’t - but you complain all the time about how you should slow down on the beer.”
“Yeah, so? You didn’t have a problem listening.”
“I didn’t - until you started to sound like a goddamn record player. Broken. When you keep repeating it, I know it’s going to be a serious problem. So before that happens…”
“Since when are you the boss of my life?”
“I’m fixing you, from within, starting today.”
“I don’t want to be fixed.” Chris’ voice rose a decibel higher. He was so mad, he was literally barking at the guy.
“And there is no need to be overly dramatic about this!”
“Overdramatic? Look who’s talking,” Sebastian scoffed, unrelenting in his stand. “It’s only three, Chris. You’re drinking in the afternoon now?”
For the record, Chris knew that having a housemate would mean his boundaries would be challenged. However, for a person who fiercely treasured his personal spaces and privacy, Chris genuinely looked forward to having another living soul in the house - for both the extra income and the company.
Ever since the guy moved into his property, Chris celebrated the fact that the New York-based photographer was overall, an awesome human being. Sebastian enjoyed smart, meaningful conversations and was funny in a dorky, space nerd kind of way. As a tenant he was almost a blessing - he picked up after himself, was responsible, a total neat freak and best of all, the brown-haired man could and loved to cook. Obviously he wasn’t selfish with his hobby. Chris really appreciated the home-cooked meals thanks to the low-key Masterchef’s skills. It had been a long while since his kitchen came alive.
So did Chris Evans expected Sebastian Stan to request a fucking death sentence all of a sudden? No.
Somewhere in his bones, he knew the guy had only the best intentions at heart.
But the nerve of him, really!
The blonde scowled. “Work’s piling up like crazy, Seb. Can’t a man just take a time out, have his beer?”
“And get drunk and forget that he needs to solve whatever problem he has before it piles up even more?”
The blond was stumped. Suddenly, Sebastian hit a spot. He was right about something.
Then came annoying part: He could protest all he wanted but Chris would eventually come to agree that Sebastian was right (the circle only had one side, all the damn time!).
And that would usually make him feel like punching something so bad.
Something like himself. “I’m heading to the store.”
“I’m following you.”
What the hell, this guy! “I’m on parole now.”
“You can’t trust your own mind, Chris. Not at this point.” Sebastian quickly got up from his chair, adamant.
“If you really wanna do this-”
“Hey. I never said I wanted to do this-”
“-then we are going to do this together.”
“What? No!” Chris actually stomped his foot, he really goddamn did. To Hell with being a child, really.
“No way, Seb. Leave me alone!”
“Once upon a time, you coerced me to put on a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and it didn’t go away for two weeks, Chris.”
“That was for a noble cause!” His jaw dropped.
“Oh, so you got rid of my entire stock - a good six whole months later - for that. Seriously. This is your grand and elaborate play to get back at me. Seriously?”
It wasn’t. Chris knew that. Sebastian was just saying it because he was dead set to continue gnawing on his nerves until he conceded defeat.
Sebastian was still calm. “You’ll lose control, Chris. I’ve been there. It ain’t a pretty place.”
“Nonsense. I’ve been drinking since legal age. Never had a problem or lapse or whatever,” Chris argued, frowning hard.
Without another word he turned around and stalked out, snatching the keys to his car along the way.
“And you, stay!”
Obviously Sebastian ignored the order and jogged up to him before his housemate could exit their home.
His hand shot out to grab Chris by the elbow. ”Calm down and hear me out. I’m not sorry for throwing everything out, by the way but you really need to listen to me.”
The blonde scoffed, ridiculed. “Look, I don’t know when or why you suddenly want to become my messiah but you’re crossing major lines here, friend. Do you see me throwing your organic bullshit out?”
”No, because organic bullshit don’t cause liver and kidney failures. A drinking problem does.”
”I don’t and won’t have a drinking problem. You’re clearly thinking extremely and negatively about this!”
His housemate gave that a ridiculed snort. “Am I, now?”
Chris threw his hands up, irritated. “Yes!”
“So you think I haven’t noticed that you are drinking way too much and way too often these days, Chris? Especially when you go through hard times at work.”
That’s awfully observant. “...”
“It’s starting to worry me, a lot. Hey. I care about you, that’s why I did this.”
The CEO wanted to deafen that out. “It helps, okay.”
“And what about when you start depending on it?”
“Thanks for caring about me, but…” Chris folded his arms over his chest, still wanting to be stubborn and ice-cold to what he just heard.
“I’ll die, Sebastian. I’ll die from going cold turkey.”
“You won’t because I’ll help you. Every step of the way. One month. Give it up.”
The color on Chris’ face disappeared. “A month?!”
“Fine. One week and we’ll take it from there,” Sebastian relented softly, finally meeting the blonde in the middle.
He let go of his hold on his housemate. “Just give it a try, okay? You’ll thank me.”
Chris knew that this was it. This was his end game - all the more when Sebastian was looking at him with those eyes. The CEO was convinced it had mind-altering powers of some sort and it was making him give in, slowly.
“I promise that you will thank me. So, please.”
He could argue until the cows turn into hamburger patties and one thing would still be definite: Sebastian Stan just won the war.
The blonde rolled his eyes. Hard. “You know what, Sebastian? You are so…So…”
“I know you hate me right now.”
Hate is such an understatement, damn it.
“Aaaaaaaaargh!”
Chris had to let the remainder of his steam out. He had to explode, even if he had to express it through balling his fists and then a scream. The blonde just signed up for some sort of extreme intervention program without even deserving to be in it in the first place.
Still fuming like a madman, he slammed the keys back down on the table and grunted at the other man.
“Okay. I’m really, really stressed up right now and I need it to go away. What do I do, Obi Wan? Tell me.”
Sebastian’s handsome face brightened up.
“Sit down. Have some chamomile tea - and then we’ll start with some Vinyasa yoga.”
WIP : #3
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