Closer Than You Think

by readingangel

Summary:

Sam feels like everything seems to be thrown in his lap, juggling a job, his friends, caring for his brother, and the impending doom of his dad coming home. His only reprieve being the guy in his phone. Over a year ago, an internet argument about Solarian Chronicles led him into the most complicated and admittedly parasocial relationship of his life. Present day, still without any personal knowledge of his friend, he finds himself craving their daily banter and getting giddy at the idea of him. If only he could know him, like really know him.

Sebastian's online presence was his entire career, he spent at least ten hours a day at his PC managing the socials for brands from the city. Getting paid pretty decently, too. Being chronically online had its upsides. An unexpected upside was the idiot in his DMs. It started as a fun side hobby, arguing over his favorite roleplay game with any moron that dared to disagree with him on his personal account. This one was just...a little too fun to argue with. He was different. Entertaining. Maybe too entertaining.

-OR-

Sam and Sebastian have been friends for decades, very strictly just friends.

At least that's what they think.

Notes:

Hi there! Bringing some more light to Stardew's most tragic and arguably most canon gay ship of all time. Consider this my contribution to beating the dead horse that is Sam x Sebastian. Hope you enjoy!

Any comments, kudos, or bookmarks are greatly appreciated! <3

Chapter 1

I never understood the appeal of a Bachelor party.

A “last night of freedom” really doesn’t make sense, I mean Alex chose to marry Haley. At least, that’s what she wants us to believe. In reality I’m almost certain they’re together as some kind of ‘lavender relationship’ situation where they both didn’t know when to end it.

But of course, I was dragged into this.

It was jarring when Alex asked me to be his best man, I mean…the only times we ever really spoke is when he would sub in for Sebastian in a game of pool at the tavern once in a blue moon.

It was even worse when he told me his vision for his ‘big bachelor bash.’

He had approached me while I was working at Joja, just stocking shelves with my headphones in and praying time would go by quicker. He clapped a hand onto my shoulder, jolting me out of my concentration.

“Best maaaaan!” He said, throwing in a light punch to my arm for good measure. This guy really has to learn personal space.

I had quirked an eyebrow up at him and stood from the box I was unloading, “Alex…!” I attempted to feed some of his enthusiasm back to him, “What brings you to…my job?” I said, forcing a grin.

He shrugs, looking around, feigning casualness, “Well Haley was blabbing on about this amazing night the girls had planned for her, they’re going to some…like…male strip joint in the city this weekend.” He clears his throat slightly, saying the last part a little quieter, “I was just wondering what my best man had in mind for my bachelor bash!”

I had to hold back my groan, no fucking way this guy wants me to plan a party in his honor. And surely he wouldn’t approach me at work to plan it, “What are you…thinking for it?”

This set him off, clearly. He spanned his hands wide and looked into the aisle in childlike wonder, like I’d asked him to describe his dream life after high school.

“A party bus…” He starts, then squints slightly like he’s visualizing it, “All the guys…tons of liquor…drinking games…and uh…well obviously like strippers or something.” His wonderment kind’ve faded at the last part, making me even more suspicious about his sexuality…but whatever.

I nodded slightly, okay maybe a bus wouldn’t be too difficult to conjure up this soon in advance. Alcohol was easy enough. Shit, Sebastian had enough under his bed to get the entire valley drunk for at least a week. Not sure how the guys would feel about drinking only Buzzballs and Tequila, though.

Probably wouldn’t help Alex’s allegations either.

I rubbed a hand down my face, trying like hell to keep up the classic ‘Sam’ appearance with a smile, “That can be arranged, don’t worry about it.”

Alex lit up at that, slapping a hand to my back in a gesture I’m sure he thought was affectionate, “Yes! You’re the man, Sammy. Knew I could count on you!” He wandered off then, leaving me with a whole new list of shit to do. First step, talking Morris into letting me get time off this weekend. Arguably, the hardest part.

Now, I’m stuck in a bus with all of the guys from the valley, half drunk enough to sedate a horse, the other half passing around one of Seb’s joints. Sebastian, clearly not thrilled with this, pushes into the seat next to me and grumbles.

“These oafs are going to smoke all my good shit.”

I snort slightly, shrugging a little, “You’re the one who brought your shit, they probably would’ve been fine with just drinking.”

Seb eyes me from the side for a moment with a feigned annoyance, then gestures to Harvey. Harvey is hunching in the front seat, making small talk with the bus driver still nursing the beer he opened when we first started drinking three hours ago.

“The doctor’s going to have a fucking stroke, look at him.” Seb mutters.

I bite my cheek to stifle a chuckle, poor guy. Alex wanted to invite all the guys, ‘the weird ones included’ he said.

I take another swig of the questionable liquid in my solo cup, something hellish that Seb had mixed for me. It still burned slightly going down, so I know I’m not drunk enough yet.

I keep checking my phone, knowing we’re supposed to be pulling up on our first location any second now. The one I’m dreading the most.

I don’t have any serious problems with strip clubs, but I know for a fact with this group there’s no way this goes well.

When the bus halts, it jolts almost all of us out of our seats. The drunker guys in the back stumbling enough to make Seb and I look at each other and smile a little before we all file out of the bus outside of the club.

This oughta be fun.

—

Sitting at a table with Seb, Alex, and Harvey feels insanely uncomfortable while half naked women walk around us. Seb looks like he couldn’t give less of a fuck, more engrossed on the game on his phone than any of the sights around us.

I’m half gazing up from my drink just to assess that everyone’s behaving themselves as I’m the most sober one in our group as of right now, no matter how badly I’d love to be plastered right now.

Seb taps my leg slightly, “You good?” He mouths, setting down his phone for a moment.

I raise an eyebrow, then realize my leg has been bouncing at the speed of light for the last ten minutes, I nod quickly in response, “All good!” I shout over the music.

He eyes me suspiciously, clearly not believing me. I roll my eyes and excuse myself to the bathroom, navigating through at least four girls waiting tables and a hoard of horny men. As I fumble through to the bathroom door, my shoes must’ve stuck to at least seven different substances on the ground.

Jesus Christ.

I shove through the bathroom door, taking a deep breath when I realize the bathroom is empty. The lighting is oddly sobering and much too bright for a club. I take out my phone and open Twitter for the sixtieth time since I got off of work, checking my messages like a lovesick puppy.

Maybe I was, just a little bit.

Love is a strong word, what I feel for this dude isn’t that.

Really, it isn’t.

It’s…love-adjacent.

It’s parasocial and pathetic, is what it is.

And it’s a long fucking story as to how I got here to begin with. One that I keep to myself, sometimes indulging Abigail in because ‘doomed yaoi ships make her heart flutter,’ whatever the fuck that means.

I don’t exactly appreciate the sentiment that I’m doomed to be nothing but a DM to this guy for the rest of my life but she’s honest to a fault.

Fuck it, I’m double-texting.

MapleRocker: ‘Do all clubs have an aura of filth or is it just the one I'm in?’

The typing animation starts up almost immediately, shocking.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Must be your general vibe, don’t blame the club.’

Trying to fight the immediate smile on my face is no use, he’s too quick with it. Fuck.

MapleRocker: ‘Aw. Thanks, Sash.’

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Anytime ;)’

I shove my phone back in my pocket then rub my hands down my face, this shit is so embarrassing.

Words on a screen shouldn’t be making me all giddy, and it definitely shouldn’t make me sweat. I need to get it together.

I walk up to the sinks and run cold water over my hands, splashing my face a couple times in lieu of slamming my head into the cement walls of a strip club.

Once I make it back out to the guys, Alex is sitting like a statue in his seat while a girl runs her fingers through his hair, her bright blue body-suit thing hanging off of her shoulders and about a whisper away from giving Alex a face-full of tits.

He’s doing a swell job of looking the most disinterested I’ve ever seen.

Even Sebastian is looking at the interaction with his head tilted a little, like he’s looking at a painting in a museum.

I take my seat back next to Seb and realize my drink has been joined by another fresh one, don’t mind if I do. As I’m taking a long swig I feel a tickling on my shoulder, turning to find a hand of long manicured nails. I follow the trail of her arm to see a tall brunette woman with piercing blue eyes.

It feels like she’s staring into my soul, yeesh.

I give her a small grin, raising my drink in greeting, “I’m all good, thanks though!” I shout over
the music. She gives me a small shake of her head, clearly unsatisfied with that answer.

She leans down more, her cheek grazing mine. The smell of her perfume nearly suffocating me, “I was asking if you’d like a dance? Are we celebrating something?”

I shake my head, gesturing over to Alex who's still stunned in his seat while a girl dances in his lap, “Bachelor party for him! I’m all good!”

She shrugs slightly, giving me a polite smile and sauntering over to the next table. I turn back to see Sebastian back on his phone but giving me an occasional glance, “You’re sure having a riot with this whole thing.” I say, looking at his phone by leaning over on his shoulder.

He rolls his eyes slightly, nudging me off of him, “You know damn well I’m not…into this stuff.”

I snort a little, nudging his arm back, “What? Girls?”

He drops his phone on the table then, the sudden movement making us both jump up a little. He turns to me, his eyes a little scarily wide, “What the fuck, dude?”

I put my hands up in surrender, putting a little distance between us with a nervous smile, “Sorry!” I look around the table, Harvey entranced by the girl dancing on stage, Alex still preoccupied with the dancer, and the other table of our group talking amongst themselves, “It’s not like anyone heard me.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, his face still painted with the evidence of embarrassment, “That’s not the point and you know it, loud mouth.”

I nod and pretend to zip my mouth shut, “Heard. Silent from now on.”

He eyes me slightly, a small smirk returning to his lips as his shoulders relax again, “Like you could ever keep your mouth shut for longer than two minutes.”

I grab his phone from the table and push it back in his face, “Look, Sebastian! Phone!”

He grumbles and snatches it out of my hand, mumbling something along the lines of ‘dumbass’ and some other choice endearing terms he likes to use for me.

I look back down at my drink, willing it to speed up the night before taking another swig.

Chapter 2: Chapter Two

Summary:

Sam's prodding questions, Map's unrelenting teasing...Sebastian is going to lose his mind.

The blond in his room is much too pretty for his own good.

Sebastian has to feed into Sam's questions about love and platonic connections while he's high on his floor.

Notes:

Another chapter because the ideas keep flowing. I can't be stopped. I love these gay little pixel men.

There’s really no words to describe how soft Sam gets when he’s high.

His bright green eyes get lighter against the bloodshot whites, a dopey smile painted to his lips. For a guy who’s normally so strung up and high-energy, it’s a good look on him.

He lays on my basement floor, like he always does, flitting his guitar pick between his fingers in distant thought before he speaks, “I never want a bachelor party.” He mutters.

I snort a little, turning in my desk chair away from one of my work projects to look at him, “Yeah? Didn’t have a blast at the bachelor bash?” I tease, knowing damn well he looked on the verge of heinous crimes after babysitting the group all night.

He shrugs a bit in response, the motion making his blond hair brush against his forehead, “Do you think marriage is a scam?”

I pause for a moment, knowing I’m not the right person to comfort my hopeless romantic friend on something like this, “Haley and Alex’s sure is.”

He rolls his eyes slightly, rolling his head to look over at me with his clouded gaze, “Obviously. I mean…just in general.”

I sigh under my breath, unable to look away from the golden retriever personified on my floor, “I don’t think yours would be.”

And that’s the truth. If anyone could make love, or marriage, work it was my soft-hearted best friend.

He gives me a soft smile in response, but the hesitation in his eyes is a little too obvious to ignore.

Conversations like this have become more and more frequent in the last year with him, I guess it’s only natural as we watch everyone in the valley couple up and start their families.

Personally, the idea of being stuck in a marriage right now makes me sick to my stomach. There’s no way I could be some white picket fence asshole, with a wife, dog, and two kids.

I mean, there’s more than one issue there.

One, I’m gay. That much alone makes my predicament a little more complicated. The only people who know are Abigail and Sam, and it was never my intention for them to know in the first place.

The valley is a small place, word spreads fast, judgement spreads even faster. I didn’t need to give the town gossips, especially my mother, more reasons to speak about me at their damn weekly aerobics class.

Second, I know that getting into a relationship, let alone marrying someone, would complicate so much of my life it’s not even funny. My work demands ninety percent of my day, I would probably have to smoke a lot less, and give up my weekends with Sam and Abi. I’lll be damned if some loser interrupts my Solarian Chronicles schedule.

Plus, I’d probably have to stop talking to Maple.

Scratch that, I’d definitely have to stop talking to Maple.

Even the idea of sharing the idea of him with anyone else made my skin crawl. Abi and Sam don’t even know about him. It’s going to stay that way. Our ‘relationship’ would be too hard to explain to anyone, let alone a romantic partner.

And I’m not giving him up.

Sam stares back at the ceiling, clearly falling back into his thoughts. Probably fantasizing about his future wife or making casserole or some other domestic shit.

I turn back to my PC, examining some of the copy writes that are set to go out this week. I’ve learned enough to schedule some ahead, some half-assed promos for new products were the easiest. Tracking trends was the hardest.

Trends online tend to have a twenty-four hour lifespan, once the brands get ahold of it the trend usually dies off. My job is to make a copy write that is still relevant without being out-of-touch. Half of my job is essentially doomscrolling. It’s a blast. Probably does some really impressive damage to my frontal lobe, too.

It keeps me from working a usual 9-5, though. I don’t have to sit in a cubicle and rot my days away amidst the office supplies. I can smoke through half of my supply during my ‘shift’ and write scripts for Solarian Chronicles in between.
“How do you know the difference between feeling platonic and feeling romantic towards a dude if your friends are dudes?” Sam’s voice echoes behind me.

I try not to whip around in my chair too quickly, I should’ve expected questions like this from my straight guy friend, but this was so out of nowhere it made my spine straighten. Turning slowly in my chair, “Why…do you ask?”

He avoids my gaze, still staring up at the ceiling, “Asking for a friend, actually.”

My eyebrows raise, a friend? What gay guy is he friends with that isn’t me?

“Uh…well I mean the same way you’re friends with Abigail without wanting to sleep with her. It’s just different, I guess.” I answer carefully, still confused as to where the hell this came from.

He nods a little, clearly not happy with my answer, “Well yeah but…yeah whatever.”

I narrow my eyes a little at him, crossing my arms, “I’m sorry, officer, is that answer not to your satisfaction?” I quip.

He smiles a little, rolling his eyes before pushing up to sit up, “Not really. I mean, I don’t think I know the difference between platonic and romantic love. And if I do, then that opens a whole other can of worms.”

I raise an eyebrow, leaning back in my seat, “Thought this was a question for a friend, not you.”

He huffs and drops his head to his knees, “I don’t know man, can you not be a dick about this right now?”

I sigh dramatically and drop my head back, “I guess I can pretend to be nice for this one.” I pause, mulling over the question again in my head, “It’s more in how you feel around them I think. I don’t really know.”

He looks up at me with his brows knit in confusion, “You don’t know?”

I shrug a little, quietly mumbling, “I don’t think I’ve really been in love before.”

He frowns a little at my admission, some kind of pity filling his bloodshot eyes, “I’m sorry.”

I snort a little, shielding the emotion itching to break out of my stomach, “All good, I’m just not sappy like you.”

I know I’ve been in love before. Maybe the worst kind. The kind that isn’t mutual, the kind that could never be mutual.

He starts to fumble with his guitar pick again, staring at it while he dances it between his fingers. His hands work so expertly that it almost puts me into a trance. I’ve watched him shred his guitar so many times and yet I’ll never get used to the fire that lights in me watching him do something he’s so good at.

It’s nauseating.

Sam doesn’t respond to me after that, his face permanently stuck in his pitied expression. I take that as my sign to turn back to my computer, staring blankly at my schedule for the week, trying to recover from our way-too-deep conversation. I know better than to smoke with him when he’s in these moods. I always make it worse.

I hear him stumble to his feet behind me, knowing he’s going to make an awkward exit. I’m almost grateful, I don’t want to have small talk right now.

“I’m gonna head out, Solarian this weekend?” He mutters, slowly walking to the door to the stairs.

I give him a half-nod, staring at my computer screen, “Yeah, should be clear this weekend. I’ve had some more free time to write some shit up.”

He nods in response, giving me a weak wave and leaving through the door, closing it behind him as he leaves.

Confident he’s not coming back down after going up the steps, I open another tab to my twitter messages that I have bookmarked.

Yes, bookmarked. I’m aware how stupid that is.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Map, I think all of my irl friends have brain-eating diseases.’

He starts typing quickly, he always does though. The guy must live on his damn phone. I’m not one to talk, though.

MapleRocker: ‘What makes you think that?’

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Ever since I came out, they act so differently around me. I feel like they think I’m the spokesperson for gay people.’

MapleRocker: ‘Are you not? Shit, why am I even here, then?’

I chuckle and roll my eyes, a smile twitching at my lips. Yeah, this is dangerous.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘You’re the only one I allow to ask questions, it’s court-ordered community service. They’ll put me back in the slammer if I refuse.’

MapleRocker: ‘I don’t like the sentiment that you’re forced to help me through my sexuality crisis but I appreciate it nonetheless.’

Map and I had been online friends for the last year, about a month ago he had texted me about twenty million messages in rapid succession questioning if it was gay to feel things towards a guy.

Hard answer, yeah. No shit.

Nice answer, which is what I tried to give him, was it depends on the root of the feelings. He didn’t elaborate much. He’ll still text me stupid shit on occasion, wondering if his music taste made him too obvious, if a nose piercing would give him away, if it was normal to have sex dreams about anime characters.

The last one I wish he would’ve kept to himself. I can’t watch My Hero Academia anymore.

Of all fictional men to be attracted to as a dude I’d say Bakugo is the gayest option, but I told him dreams don’t mean much. Y’know, lying.

I can only do so much good, gotta keep it balanced.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Calling it a ‘crisis’ is a little extreme, people don’t fight battles overseas over a septum piercing.’

MapleRocker: ‘Tell that to my dad.’

That was the root of his issues it seemed, he knew his dad’s feelings on gay people. Especially his own son being gay/bisexual. I really didn’t know how to help him though, given I’m not exactly out and proud to my own family.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘How long until he’s back now?’

I knew his dad was away for ‘work,’ context clues led to Map being a military brat. Tough deal.

MapleRocker: ‘Next spring. At least that’s what my mom says. Who really knows.’

I find a slightly warm part of me wanting to comfort him, I know the feeling of impending doom, having to keep parts of yourself a secret. I understood him more than he said his real friends did, at least that’s how it seems.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘You’ve got a year. Don’t you have plans to move before then?’

MapleRocker: ‘If I can actually make enough at my shitty job to get me there. Moving to…the city where I’d like to move is a lot more expensive than the place I currently live.’

Even after a year we were both pretty cautious at sharing personal details. We didn’t know each other’s real names, locations, or really anything personal. I don’t even know what he does for work.

Most times it doesn’t bother me, but sometimes I wish I could know more. It was technically safer this way, we vented to each other about everything and having that layer of security made it so much easier. He knows too much to ever step foot in this damn town.

MapleRocker: ‘How’s things with that guy?’

Ah, another complicated detail. He knows the complicated thing I have with Sam. Well, really I don’t have anything with Sam. He’s straight, and oblivious. On and off for the last couple years I’ve found myself in some kind of childhood crush situation with him, which he has no knowledge of, obviously. Map knows, though.

He asks about it at least once a week.

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘He’s still straight, if that’s what you’re asking.’

MapleRocker: ‘In theory, but okay.’

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Don’t give me hope, it’s unbecoming.’

MapleRocker: ‘Sorry, I don’t think him spooning you is a straight activity.’

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘HE WAS ASLEEP! It was unconscious, he would’ve done that with anyone.’

MapleRocker: ‘That’s what YOU think.’

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘You’re an enabler, my love life is none of your business.’

MapleRocker: ‘For being none of my business I sure do hear about it a lot!’

SlayingSashimiSadly: ‘Oh look! So much work to do! Jeez, guess I gotta go!’

MapleRocker: ‘Lameeee. Bye Sash, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

I close the browser with an annoyed groan, this asshole. He has no clue what he’s talking about.