Chapter Text
It’s Sejanus’ fifteenth birthday, and Coriolanus has decided to gift him with a kiss.
The two of them have been engaged for a few months now, Coriolanus taking the months as a chance to recategorize, restrategize. His plans for his future need not halt, but he must weave a marriage, a partnership, fittingly into his plans.
The regular allowance he had started receiving has soothed the bite, even if Coriolanus almost growls with irritation at the thought of being given one by Strabo Plinth. Like a child given spending money by his father. But his family has since been given enough to be able to move into a better apartment, and with that in mind, all Coriolanus can do to soothe his bruised pride is tighten his grip on Strabo’s son.
Coriolanus is no fool. If he were to be wed, he would need to be a husband to the fullest of his ability. If he and Sejanus only pretended, someone would see through the cracks of Sejanus’ inevitably unsatisfactory performance. No, if Coriolanus had to wed, he would do it perfectly. It would be perfect. And perfect marriages touched, spoke softly, comforted, kissed.
Coriolanus has few he would call a friend, but has enough who would call him a friend. And that is what Sejanus has likely considered him these past few months— a friend.
Married individuals are not friends. Married individuals are lovers, though that can come at a later time for himself and Sejanus.
Today, Coriolanus must start to forge a proper husband out of Sejanus Plinth. In turn, Coriolanus must forge himself into a lover.
The schoolmates of Coriolanus and Sejanus rarely attend Sejanus’ birthday parties. Their parents, if they know what’s good for them, are regularly in attendance.
A proper ball begins with a feast, Grandma’am had bestowed to Ma Plinth. Grandma’am and Tigris have been assisting with making a proper Capitol wife out of Ma, as Coriolanus would put it, and in the past few months, the lessons have consisted of wardrobes and hosting.
Sejanus has shown displeasure over the concept of these “lessons,” though Coriolanus can’t imagine why. This was what their marriage contract was for— the Plinths would give money, the Snows would give honour. Sejanus has never voiced these thoughts, not to him, not directly. But he’s easy enough to read, and Coriolanus uses it as a point of measurement. When Sejanus trusts him enough to tell him his thoughts with his own mouth, Coriolanus can use it as a sign of progress.
“Why must she buy new dresses?” Sejanus had said under his breath, watching the help haul in new clothes Grandma’am deemed more “suitable” for Mrs Plinth.
Coriolanus wanted to scream at him, ‘She can, she can, and that’s better than some of us.’ “It’s just formalware. Black is class, Sejanus.”
“Why aren’t her colours class?” Sejanus had asked, a tinge of bite to it, though Coriolanus can’t imagine why Sejanus thought he had a right to be peeved with him, of all people. Coriolanus had nothing to do with it, and in any case, anything that allowed Ma to look even slightly more elegant, the better.
‘Because such an ugly patchwork of colour screams District,’ Coriolanus wanted to say. ‘Like you sewed together any spare bolt of fabric you could find. His Tigris actually did have to do that, and even hers turned out better than what Mrs Plinth actually pays for.’
“You wouldn’t understand, Sejanus,” Coriolanus said instead, tactfully switching out the bite in his words for gentleness.
“…No. I suppose I wouldn’t.”
When the Snows enter the Plinth penthouse, Ma Plinth is wearing one of the new dresses for Sejanus’ feast. The formal black does nothing to dim her glowing smile. Coriolanus almost asked if she was pregnant. Instead, he smiles at the Plinths as they welcome his family in turn.
In the traditional order, the Snows greet the head of house first, Strabo Plinth. This is the man who would be giving Coriolanus his fortune one day, and it’s this thought Coriolanus summons as he gives Strabo an almost-real smile.
The Snows are still working on instilling traditional greetings into the Plinths, clearly, as Ma and Sejanus ignore the order entirely. Ma gives Coriolanus a lovely smile as she and Grandma’am clasp each other’s hands like girls. Sejanus stands in front of Coriolanus, giving him a shy smile.
“Hi, Coriolanus,” he says shyly, his chin parallel to his chest so that he’s looking up at Coriolanus through his lashes.
For a moment, Coriolanus hasn’t a clue what Sejanus has to be shy about, until Coriolanus remembers that they, too, are wearing their new finest suits. Sejanus must be wishing to impress Coriolanus, or might be flustered at Coriolanus’ own appearance. Either way, a charming smile and fond eyes will do.
“Good evening, Sejanus. This is for you.” Coriolanus pulls the bouquet of flowers from behind his back, presenting them to Sejanus. Deep red roses, traditional for courting. Sejanus blushes, his hands reaching forward to accept them, before Coriolanus steps a touch closer. He whispers into Sejanus’ ear, “You look so handsome tonight.”
Sejanus colours up to his ears, starting to sputter in surprise. What an undignified habit. Coriolanus would have to train that out of him at some point, if he’s to keep a proper image when he’s Coriolanus’ spouse.
Finally, Sejanus manages a proper thank you, and the adults turn to them after their conversation. “My wife and I must stay and greet the other guests,” Strabo begins, “Mrs Snow, would you and your family like to wait for us at your seats? We will dine at the same table, of course.”
“Actually, Mr Plinth, may I have a moment to chat with Sejanus?” Coriolanus asks as respectfully as possible.
Strabo acquiesces easily, and Coriolanus leads himself and Sejanus to Sejanus’ bedroom, despite having only been allowed in a handful of times. Though they are already engaged, the courting process must still be followed, and it’s most appropriate to spend time together in the living room or lounges during the early stages.
“Coriolanus?” Sejanus questions as they reach his room. Coriolanus turns to him, the corners of his smile pitched up to his cheeks, and Sejanus flushes a little at the sight.
He usually doesn’t grace anyone with a smile, not even people at school who consider him a friend, but Coriolanus needs a stronger hold on someone who will be as related to him as Sejanus will be. Smiles are an insignificant thing to dole out, as long as no one else but his family and the Plinths see it. And as long as it keeps pulling colour onto Sejanus’ cheeks.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Coriolanus says, honestly. Sejanus sits down on his large bed, and Coriolanus takes it as an invitation to sit next to him. In any other circumstance, he would need a cue more explicit, but Sejanus isn’t the person for the art of small, social rules.
Sejanus doesn’t put down Coriolanus’ flowers, cradling them to his chest as he looks at Coriolanus with anticipation. The portrait it paints does please Coriolanus, if only slightly. He shakes his head, regaining his focus, and only now does he realize he’s unsure of what to say.
“Sejanus, do you have any idea as to what kind of gifts you would be receiving?”
Sejanus frowns, an expression Coriolanus has long since tagged as confusion. “I— no. In the past, I’d get generic things, like scarves, and cufflinks. And watches. So many watches.”
Coriolanus smirks in amusement, “These guests are never very creative, are they?”
Sejanus shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “I wouldn’t blame them. I wouldn’t know what to get myself, either.”
“You don’t know what you want?”
“Well— I… No, I suppose I don’t. I just like to read, I guess.”
Coriolanus leans back, putting his weight on the two hands he plants on Sejanus’ bed. Coriolanus raises a brow, shooting a pointed glance at Sejanus’ loaded bookshelves. “I would never have guessed.”
Sejanus colours again in shy embarrassment. Coriolanus only smiles amusedly.
Coriolanus is far from a fool, obviously. His allowance has been enough to pay for a swathe of new things, including a real gift for Sejanus. This would be the first they’re celebrating as fiancés, and Coriolanus is not only expected to be at Sejanus’ side for most festivities, he’s also expected to give the most beautiful gift.
Coriolanus knows his gift will be judged by more than just the Plinths. People expect a gift from the Snows to be appropriately elegant, to show off with a lesson in grace. Coriolanus suddenly became grateful that he wouldn’t need to plan an engagement gift until they were almost of age, and needed to exchange bands.
“What… What should birthday gifts be like? Between fiancés?” Sejanus breaks Coriolanus’ contemplation with a quiet question. Sejanus caresses the stem of a rose between his fingers, like he relies on the smoothness to calm him.
Coriolanus hums. “There are formal gifting rules during courting, especially for events like birthdays. but I assume that’s not what you’re asking about—”
“It is, actually,” Sejanus says softly. Coriolanus huffs a little at being interrupted, but he won’t stoop so low as to interrupt Sejanus as well. This boy has a long way to go.
“And why’s that? I’ve yet to see you take an interest in Capitol tradition yet.” Coriolanus keeps his voice casual and airy, playing like he doesn’t mind being the only pursuant. While Coriolanus has been following courting tradition properly and with initiative, Sejanus has been unable to reciprocate anything but the basics, anything more required nudging on the part of his parents, or embarrassingly, Grandma’am. Grandma’am must think herself so helpful, nudging Sejanus Coriolanus’ way, but Coriolanus struggles to keep his boiling anger chained every time.
Sejanus colours, looking almost chided for his lack of reciprocation so far into their courting. Good. It is Coriolanus who should be equally pursued, it is Coriolanus who has the honour. If Coriolanus didn’t want his money so badly, he would’ve forged a letter to cancel the engagement weeks ago. If Sejanus were to ever show this lack of reciprocation in public, Coriolanus would strangle him.
“I…” Sejanus seems to be struggling with his words today. Coriolanus can already feel his patience prickling like paint cracking off walls. “I’m not. I don’t. But… I know it matters to you.”
The thing with Sejanus Plinth is he rarely ever is sarcastic or dishonest. Not to anyone, but especially not to Coriolanus.
Coriolanus blesses Sejanus with a pearlescent smile, allowing Sejanus to think he’s pleased. Sejanus smiles back. “Well,” Coriolanus begins, “The celebrant’s suitor must give the most beautiful gift, better than anyone else. It signifies the union’s strength and the suitor’s status. For high-class engagements, such as ours, the gift should be related to one of their families somehow.”
Sejanus hums patiently. “Is that all?”
“That’s for birthdays. There are the rules for regular courting gifts, engagement gifts, intimate gifts…” Coriolanus trails off coyly as each word makes Sejanus more flustered.
“I— you can’t possibly mean—” Sejanus cuts himself off, seeing Coriolanus smirk, confirming his suspicions that he certainly does mean what Sejanus thinks.
“Don’t worry,” Coriolanus says casually, gently. “That can come at a later date.”
Sejanus colours at an embarrassingly quick speed, before deciding his most honourable choice is to hide his face in his hands. Coriolanus observes him quietly.
“Is that… An issue with you?” Coriolanus fakes hesitance. The matter of their sexualities is more or less clear— Sejanus had been engaged to him instead of Tigris because of Sejanus’ sexuality. But they’ve never broached the topic of intimacy, and though Coriolanus fully expects intimacy at some point— a sexless marriage sounds like a miserable partnership— he might as well gauge Sejanus’ opinion on it. To see if Sejanus might need any convincing.
God knows why he would need it. Coriolanus has a perfectly fair appearance, if the girls at school had anything to say about it. If anything, it should be Coriolanus who is hesitant. But he isn’t, mostly, since Sejanus is— Well. He and Sejanus are the same age, as of today, but Sejanus seems a tad ahead in terms of body development, that’s for sure.
It takes Sejanus a moment to reply, his cheeks coloured as he seems unable to look Coriolanus in the eye. “I— I mean, well, I— No.” And then offers no additional explanation.
Irritation instantly flares in Coriolanus. Giving Sejanus a single chance to absolve himself, he asks, voice calmer than his mind, “No, you don’t want me?”
Sejanus’ head snaps up as he scrambles to retract his statement. Coriolanus is pleased to see it. “No! I mean— Well, no! I-I do!”
“You do want me?”
Sejanus freezes like a doe. The blush shows no sign of leaving his face. Coriolanus wonders if Sejanus will deny him, now that Coriolanus has him at a crux. God knows Coriolanus might have.
Sejanus looks so ashamed to admit it, but Coriolanus knows he won’t lie to him. This time Coriolanus finds a deep pleasure in the way he stutters it out, looking down, “I— I do. Want you.”
Coriolanus smiles.
Slowly, Coriolanus presses into Sejanus’ space, until their sides touch and Coriolanus’ knee knocks gently into Sejanus’. Their faces are closer like this, and Coriolanus revels in seeing more blood rush to Sejanus’ face.
The smile doesn’t leave Coriolanus’ face as he puts a hand on Sejanus’ knee. Even as his breathing slows.
He’s about to whisper a soft Happy Birthday, before a hand raps on the door. “Master Sejanus! Your mother says it’s time for the feast to begin.”
Sejanus jumps away, as Coriolanus scowls outwardly. Despite his displeasure, he still manages to note that the Plinths have servants that can talk. It doesn’t surprise him— trust Sejanus to be the reason they wouldn’t employ Avoxes.
Coriolanus rises slowly, patting his suit free of wrinkles. Sejanus calls, “C-Coming!”
Sejanus turns to him, the remnants of his blush still colouring his face. Coriolanus smiles. “Let’s go and celebrate, Sejanus.”