noboars | (tfln - overflow)

[ Honestly, Sylvain had expected more resistance to the goblet offering, so a brow of his own perks at the ease with which it’s taken from his hand, swirled, and sipped.

And, no surprise, he’s right: That assessment of “passable” is about as high of praise as one could reasonably expect from Felix Fraldarius.

One end of Sylvain’s mouth lifts into a small, knowing curl at the presumption. He won’t admit to being predicted quite so readily, of course; rather, he’ll reach to take the goblet back, first and foremost. ]

Well, it’s not what I’d pick for myself, but... [ he pauses here to take another sip. It’s easier than the first, thankfully. ] ...beggars can’t be choosers.

[ As he takes a moment to stare down into the glass, as though dead-eyeing just how much of this he has left to consume, he adds, under a breath: ]

It’s not about the drinks, anyway.

[sometimes sylvain had these moments of pride, where he would endure something unpleasant or... stupid, for the sake of it. felix was still on the fence if he found that admirable or endearing, right now it was neither of those things. did... he think felix would be offended if he didn't drink it? was it the principle of the thing?

his light musings nearly missed the lower tone. nearly. but felix was a man honed to a point, that included his sense of hearing.

arms crossing over his chest as he leans back in his chair.]

How could it not be? You seemed insulted I would have them without you.

[what a confusing and exasperating man.]

Not insulted, just--...

[ Sylvain's expression pinches here as he trails off.

Okay, so he'd acted himself a fool, and this time there are text receipts to confirm it. He's cornered. But he can't just come out and say what might have (read: definitely) reared its ugly head earlier on to cause those texts.

Unfortunately, however, as where Felix might double-down on insults here, Sylvain is quicker to capitulate. Perhaps that's because, even in the worst-case scenario, they resume default behavior: Felix calls him a liar or acts otherwise disgusted, and Sylvain plays it off as though he wasn't being honest in the first place. Easy.

In light of that, what's the harm in telling the truth, for once? ]

...Guess I just wanted to be there when you tried something new.

[ Oh Goddess that sounds pathetic, he realizes a moment after the words leave his mouth. Quick, Sylvain -- enact Plan B! ]

Besides, there's nothing sadder than someone drinking alone. It's supposed to be a social thing, you know.

[ There we go. That's better. ]

[oh.

exhaling through his nose as he let the words sink in, completely ignoring the cover up- which the latter definitely was. felix pinches the bridge of his nose, not like he was annoyed, but just to quell the strange feeling in his stomach. sometimes sylvain said things that made him feel... strange. not uncomfortable or bad, but strange.]

It was more of a challenge, and it was the one drink. Hardly a worthy first experience.

[taking his own glass, now empty, he tilts it slightly in the man's direction. indicating he wanted sylvain to pour him some of the wine.]

A redo.

[he's trying.]

[ Felix pinches the bridge of his nose, and Sylvain braces for the metaphorical return jab.

...Except, it never comes. What does in its place is an empty glass offered in gesture, and a second chance.

For moments, Sylvain is too flabbergasted to move, the words and deeds ultimately catching up to him after the pause in a sort of fumble. ]

Right. A redo. [ Even the words sound lost to thought as he grabs for the bottle of wine, pulling the cork from its opening. It’s something so trivial, so painfully minute and unimportant; and yet, Felix is giving him the opportunity to share it with him anew, just because he said it mattered. No fighting, no pulling teeth, no disdainful sighs or verbal flogging -- just quiet acceptance. Acquiescence, even.

Something in Sylvain’s stomach does a funny flip at a flood of unexpected warmth in his chest, but he clamps down on it as best he can and pours his companion a glass before putting the bottle aside again.

Hoisting his own goblet, then, angled slightly toward Felix: ]

To getting a redo.

Even if you hate the wine.

[mused almost softly as he completes the gesture, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip. this was far better than the hard liquor he chugged for... goddess only really knows. five years did a lot to him, to them? to... everyone. but the years made him realize a few important things, sylvain's friendship being one of them.

it was just difficult for felix to open up to anyone, no matter how close they were to his heart. it was far easier to push them away with a sharp tongue and cold stares.]

Next time bring your own.

[another olive branch. felix never made empty implications, so maybe it was a promise. the years didn't make him softer, but they did make him more inclined to try.]

I don’t hate it. [ The reiteration escapes just before their glasses clink. Felix probably isn’t buying it still. He might not ever. But the important part has nothing to do with that--

--and everything to do with a chance to do this again.

He sips first, at least, before affirming with a quiet, ] Yeah. You got it.

[ After a larger swallow, Sylvain finds himself staring into the goblet at its contents once more -- and this time, the smile on his face is broad, bright, and strikingly genuine. ]

Hey, Felix? [ A beat, and that golden gaze flicks up at the swordsman across from him. ] Thanks for inviting me.

[ He doesn’t have to append this to make it clear, but, it means a lot. ]

You don't like it either. [not buying it in the least, but the fact that sylvain is willing to tough it out just to be here and drink with him... well, he guesses it wasn't so bad. maybe.

few things escape his hawk like gaze either, not like he could miss the smile. it was the almost pensive nature in which sylvain was staring into his wine. it was curious- but the thought escapes him as he was nearly blinded.

because he knew. the man threw smiles around like they were easy- quick with a laugh and a wink, but felix rarely saw one that made it to his eyes. and the radiancy made his heart clench.]

Ah.

[felix wasn't much for words in the first place, but he was almost speechless. he felt heat creep up his neck, and the tips of his ears burned with a blush as he scoffed into his cup, averting his gaze.

he had moved his chair closer so they could have that proper toast, but sylvain was a little too far to shove for his ridiculous candor, so instead he nudged the man's knee with his own.]

Had to. You would have cried otherwise.

[ The darkening to Felix’s ears isn’t missed, though Sylvain isn’t quite so arrogant as to place the blame for that solely on himself. Not when he’s done so little to earn it, at least. His lips do curve a little more, however, though for the witty retort his sincerity receives above anything else. Such a toothless bite from such a venomous man is practically a compliment, after all. ]

Yep. [ Right off the bat, no hesitation. ] Just like you used to back when we were kids, whenever I went somewhere without you.

[ And then, to that nudge of a knee, he’ll extend his leg and rest the entire damned thing on top of Felix’s thighs, fully and wholly prepared to receive a scowl and a biting remark as it’s dropped onto the floor unceremoniously. In the meantime, while he waits, he’ll drink once more from the contents of the goblet.

...And, is it just him, or is that getting easier with each swallow? ]

Then I guess I'm finally returning that favor.

[another scoff, but there is a hint of a smile when he takes another, longer, sip. the thing about sylvain... the ultimately good thing about this man, was the fact that he was consistent and there. from their childhood where... well, if ingrid would yell at him he would go crying to sylvain. he had a fight with dimitri? or dimitri broke something of his by accident? he went crying to sylvain. or when the redhead went playing with strange girls without him... again, he would go crying to him.

and he was always there.

felix often scoffed about nostalgia, despite the fact that certain people made him steep in it. but this never made him feel bad. and it wasn't just sylvain being there to shoulder his tears whenever he got his tender little heart broken for whatever reason.

sylvain was the only one, out of his father and friends, who was there for him when glenn died. everyone else regaled him with how brave and chivalrous his brother was, how he should be proud of the fact. but... sylvain offered him condolences and his steady friendship.]

...This wine is making me feel sentimental.

[musing under his breath, but it wasn't really a complaint.

a brow is arched as he feels the weight of his leg across his thighs. felix could feel another pang of warmth deep in his gut, and a flutter in his chest. of course his first instinct is to shove him away with a retort, and he even moves to do so- except when his hand is on sylvain's knee... there is hesitation. felix will blame it on the drink later, but maybe for now it was okay if he let his hand rest there.

it was... comfortable. and warm.

he didn't hate it.]

[ There’s a single-beat chuckle that escapes Sylvain at that reply, huffed out through his nose as the smile he wears warms by degrees. That’s right -- he is finally returning that favor, isn’t he? Were the redhead actually going to cry over something so trivial, that is. Really, he doesn’t know what could’ve gotten into him earlier, and he doubts it would’ve come to that extreme even in the worst-case scenario, but... the thought is enough, really.

Granted, it’s been years, ages since he’s held, shushed, or soothed Felix; since he’s wiped any tears, crocodile or otherwise. The last time they even touched for reasons other than happenstance or something to do with training was...

...Hell, thinking back on it, it was right around Glenn’s death, wasn’t it?

Felix hadn’t handled that well whatsoever. And Sylvain, though he tried, was a mismatch for the job of comforting, in the end. What was it like, to lose a brother you had a good relationship with? His own had spent more time trying to kill him than getting to know him. Young Sylvain was too terrified of Miklan Gautier's jealous rage to ever fathom mourning the man. Felix’s relationship with Glenn Fraldarius, however, was... quite different.

If Sylvain remembers right, it was around that time that Felix started pulling away. The boy he dueled with wooden swords, that he played tag and hide-and-seek with, that slept on his shoulder under shady trees in summer or shared blankets with him in winter, the boy that was his first experience holding hands -- that boy had changed. And the heart that was once so soft, so welcoming, so kind, and so readily on his sleeve, was hardening right before Sylvain’s eyes.

Of course, that isn’t to say it’s gone. Oh no -- it’s still there, albeit piled under layer upon layer of defense mechanisms. But by this point, Felix has an itemized list of at least five years of disagreements with his former constant companion, and... well, there’s no real way to rectify that, is there?

Unless. ]

I can tell.

[ It’s against his better judgment -- and some distant corner of his mind now quieted by the wine knows this -- but...

Still, he’ll reach a hand out. Without a word. And place it on top of Felix’s. Another olive branch to the pile, he’d say if asked; he means nothing by it. ]

[it had to have been the drink. warming a heart that has long since gone cold. of course not gone, he's said as much to dimitri, didn't he? he wasn't immune to emotion, he felt... everything, and he felt it with such an intensity that he needed to be cold. having lost so much, he couldn't afford to break.

it could be so easy to brush sylvain's hand from his, it... felt like forever since they last touched or shared in any sort of tenderness. not since they were kids. and felix wondered, vaguely, if the man knew how much he missed him- missed what they used to be. before war took everything from him.

there's a lump in his throat, but he doesn't pull his hand back. instead he moves to tangle their fingers together as if it's the easiest thing in the world. reminding him of the times where he could so easily collapse into welcoming arms as he wailed about one thing or the other. a luxury he lost, and was dangerous to ever want again.

felix finally manages a breath, albeit a little shaky- he hadn't realized he was holding it it. wordlessly he extends his empty glass. a bit more couldn't hurt.

speaking may break what was happening, and it's been so long... he wanted to allow himself this moment of selfishness, before sylvain leaves to maybe spend the rest of the evening with a woman.]

[ True, Felix has lost quite a bit in his life. But he hasn’t lost Sylvain, no matter how badly he might have wanted to. Or, might still want to, for that matter. For all the redhead knows, the wine is wholly and totally to blame for their friendliness here, and with a return to sobriety, they’ll go right back to trading non-physical blows.

Regardless, he’s not about to question it, or make any assumptions. Instead, when their fingers link just as easily as they always had when they were young boys, there’s merely a squeeze of reciprocity, and a thumb that sets to idly rubbing, back and forth in slow sweeps. Rest assured, those arms are there, too, if they’re ever needed again. They’re still there, just like that soft heart buried below so much protection, and they always will be. No woman -- of the night, the week, or the rest of Sylvain’s life, even -- could take them away, either. The love he feels for Felix and every other possible instance or manifestation of the word are inherently different; an apples-to-oranges comparison.

That’s all for another day, though. For tonight, a glass angled in his direction prompts Sylvain to fill it, so he does. His own is nearly empty, but he doesn’t add to it -- a gracious host deserved a grateful guest, after all. ]

[maintaining the silence is easy, it was a comfortable sort of quiet. the sound of clothes shifting when sylvain moves, the wine being poured... it was nice, and not as uncomfortable or awkward as he was expecting it to be. so felix is quiet for awhile more, taking another sip of wine, contemplating their hands, the warmth and how smooth the drink was.

it's probably the latter that has his words so loose, which is a dangerous thing. a part of felix hardening his heart for so long also had him hold a lot back. oh, he was quick with sharp commentary and biting honesty- but there were other things he pushed away or kept and buried.]

Sylvain.

[there's another pause as he tries to... voice what was on his mind, the sentiment he wants to convey. which is harder than it needs to be, even without the nudging the alcohol was giving him.

'...don't change.'

the words don't leave him, words that were inherently hypocritical to what he usually says. and it's not exactly what he meant.

sylvain hasn't changed, for better or worse, but the consistency of him was so comforting that felix wouldn't know what to do if he left, or if the man did change who he was entirely. everyone else he cared for had in such a way that made it harder for him to relate or be comfortable with them.]

I'm selfish.

[and blurting things out without context. thanks, wine.]

[ It’s a comfortable silence that settles between them, for once -- not one prompted by a cold shoulder, filled with disdainful stares or sneers or irritated huffs of breath. Though, it’s hard to appreciate the quiet when the world inside Sylvain’s mind is so incredibly loud.

It’s been years -- no less than four or five, he’d say -- since he and Felix had indulged in simple physical contact. No rhyme, no reason, just closeness. There’s no adrenaline rush to it; no thrill of the chase, as there is with so many girls. But in exchange, his heart is... happy? Is that a thing, to be happy from one’s heart...?

How sad, for someone who smiles so much to find the notion foreign. ]

Guess so. [ Another soft patter of near-voiceless laughter. ] Because that’s my line, and you stole it. [ Sylvain, is now really the time for your jokes?

A small silence passes. ]

What brought that on, anyway? [ Another simple, faint squeeze to their hands. ] Everything alright?

[ He has to check. Girlfriends come and go, but if something happened to Felix, Sylvain doesn’t know what he’d do. He’d shudder at the thought, even. ]

[selfish was the last thing he'd call sylvain. and he wondered if the man would laugh if he really knew all of the kind things felix thought of when he took the time to really think about it. not that he spent hours of his day contemplating the flirtatious redhead. but... sometimes. if he heard his name in passing. that's all. (that's not to say he didn't think unkind things as well, because he had a list of things that sylvain did that drove him absolutely crazy.)

it was such a thoughtful question, and he was unsure of how to answer.]

...

[well, the drink brought it on. and now he didn't know what to do with it. so he sets his glass down, it was nearly done anyway, just so he could gesture... vaguely.]

Don't you ever get tired. Of me.

[he didn't mean it in a self deprecating way- he just knew he was hard to be around, and only grew more so over the years.]

I ask a lot of you, and I've hurt you with my words on more than one occasion.

Edited 2019-09-17 11:23 (UTC)

[ Somehow, Sylvain knows exactly what Felix means, all without further inquiry. ]

Honestly? [ Lips still quirked into a small smile, his head shakes. ] No.

Sure, we don’t see eye-to-eye on things, and we argue maybe more than most, but... [ 'I can’t tell you what a comfort it is to have you around; to know you’re there still.' It’s a comfort Sylvain never knew he needed, but now can’t imagine what he’d do without. ]

No matter the occasion, or even if I know you’re going to confront me about something, I’m still just glad you’re around.

[ He sniffs, but not tearily, and not faux-tearily either. ]

Now who’s being sentimental? Guess this wine must have that effect on people.

[ Uh huh. Sure. ]

Besides, Felix... [ a pause here, and he jostles their joined hands, still settled on his knee ] ...I made you a promise. And if I only ever keep one promise in my life, it's gonna be that one.

[ Perhaps to stop all this useless exposition, he takes another swig from his glass. ]

Alright, I said my piece -- now it’s time for you to answer that question in return.

[ He’s prepared to receive a flat, deadpan “no” here, but... maybe he’ll get lucky. ]

[another clench in his chest- and he vaguely wondered if all this sentiment was killing him. it was the danger of bottling everything up over a period of time- it starts to overflow until it bursts. thankfully he has enough dignity in whatever sobriety he had left not to come fully clean on all the complicated nonsense tumbling around in his head and heart.

the heat creeping up his neck and burning his ears is starting to flush on his face, and he can feel it. but people who drink get flustered all the time, so he thinks nothing of it.

the scoff he makes his harmless.]

Don't you dare die on me, we both have a lot left to do. [he may have claimed later in the years that he didn't intend to die with him, but he knew his heart. a life without sylvain is not one worth living, as far as he was concerned.

...and now he was on the spot.

this is why sharing time was his least favorite thing- even if he did start it.

stupid wine.]

Hn. What a stupid question.

[a pause of hesitation before he gives sylvain's hand a squeeze.]

I wouldn't be here if I was.

[ Felix was well overdue for a burst by now, wasn’t he? Surely it was inevitable; only a matter of time. Sylvain would still be there for that, too, if he could be allowed. Just as he was for most every tear beforehand.

But that’s for later, of course. With any luck, much later, though surely both of them knew nothing was guaranteed. Every battle could be a final fight, if the tides turned the wrong way. All the same, however--]

I know, I know, I won’t.

[ rumbles out rather patronizingly, with another jostle of their hands. All that’s missing is the eyeroll. And it’ll stay missing, given Felix’s response to the on-the-spot return-fire question. ]

I guess you’re right. [ His lips quirk up into a bigger, brighter smile then, accompanied by the predictable, expected wink. ] Still never hurts to hear it, though.

[ He could be clever here and say it’s something owed to him for all the various verbal abuses he’s suffered, but, frankly? He likes where his leg is, and how their hands are, and there’s no witty rebuff worth sacrificing those two things.

...Unless, of course, he can trade them in for an upgrade.

For a few silent moments, Sylvain’s thumb sets back to sweeping back and forth over Felix’s hand while he deliberates. An internal cost-of-benefit analysis ultimately sells him on the idea that the worst-case scenario would be being asked to leave -- something that was going to happen anyway. He’s not staying the night, after all; he just came over for drinks and company.

So, he’ll go for it. ] Hey. [ A gentle tug of their joined hands, pulling in the redhead’s direction, signals the impending ask nonverbally. ] When you finish your glass, come sit with me.

[oh he was well overdue for a burst. the issue being, over the years, he didn't think he could afford the emotional turmoil (despite the fact that keeping it all in was hardly beneficial for his general sanity.) he wasn't even sure if he could face sylvain and ask him for the emotional support like he used to.

pride. or something like it.

felix had since picked up the remainder of his drink, feeling the warmth and buzz- he could see why some people would retire for the evening with a drink. it had a mind numbing quality he couldn't really hate (unless it was day drinking, he had standards.) he couldn't remember the last time he was this comfortable. and nostalgic.

he gives a soft hum in response before taking another sip.]

Hard to do with you all over me. [said pointedly while he nurses the rest of his glass. the brow arch he gives the man, over his drink, has a faint hint of mischief. almost miss-able.]

[ Pride was what it was. That, and there was something so terribly inconvenient about the downtime that came with emotional purging -- not to mention, vulnerability was terrifying. Neither of them were used to that feeling, on the battlefield or off. Not anymore, at least, if they had been before.

To the clever retort, normally, the off-the-cuff reply would be something akin to “you think I’m all over you now...” but Felix isn’t deserving of such a shameless pickup line. Not to mention, Sylvain has no real intention to back up those words, either. For once, he doesn’t need to be all over someone -- simple closeness will do. Simple closeness is nice. A hand in a hand, with maybe a head on a shoulder, is enough for him.

Really, it... could just be the wine talking? But there seems to be something unique about closeness with Felix that hasn’t been found or felt anywhere else, with anyone else.

So, he’ll withdraw his leg. But he’s keeping that hand, gently tugging just as soon as he’s moved enough for the swordsman to stand. ]

[it was almost... comical how when sylvain withdraws his leg how cold his own became. or maybe he was being more sentimental by the boozy minute. so he drains his cup, unable to tear his gaze away from the man. which was strange, he always made it abundantly clear that he didn't very much like eye contact or looking at a person in the face- because his own betrayed his emotion more than his sharp tongue did.

setting his cup down, felix wordlessly gets to his feet, mindful of their hands. it was somehow important to keep that link, not like sylvain would disappear if he let go, but it was something else. symbolic? he didn't know. his mind was a little fuzzy as he took his place next to the redhead.

maybe it was too close, felix didn't have a concept of personal space right now and there was something in this closeness that he wanted, something he had been suppressing for... goddess knows how long now. he spoke about his selfishness earlier, so why not continue this very selfish act with this time alone?

close enough their thighs were near touching, and he could feel sylvain's body heat.

felix doesn't say anything, but he does exhale a breath he wasn't aware he was holding in.]

[ There’s something unbelievable to Sylvain about the way Felix doesn’t release his hand even after getting up, following those gently insistent tugs right down to the bed to sit beside him. He’s not dreaming, is he? He’s halfway convinced he might be.

Damn, this wine... He’ll have to find more of it someday.

The mattress dips with the presence of another, seated far closer than the redhead had thought he’d care to be of his own volition. Surprise, surprise. There’s no comment made, of course; any sort of callout would surely push Felix away, and the last thing Sylvain wants to ruin is the direction of this evening. Whatever direction it’s heading in, it’s a good one. ]

You too? [ To that pronounced exhale, which seems to convey so much in such a small gesture. A knee bumps then, and a shoulder thereafter. But the latter... doesn’t exactly draw away, either.

They can stay here like this for a while, can’t they? ]

[there is a tinge of anticipation growing deep in his gut, and as relaxing as the moment was there was something beneath the surface that he dared not voice. he treasured sylvain's friendship above all else, so he was apprehensive. what if felix ruined it all by saying or doing something? yet at the same time they were holding hands, sitting close.

the sort of moment where felix would, a little bitterly, wonder if he were a woman that maybe...

it was such a dangerous thought.]

...Yeah. [and then their shoulders were touching and felix couldn't help the way he leaned against the man.

despite his disgust for sylvain's philandering ways, felix couldn't blame him. he, himself, had lusts, needs and wants. they were just directed elsewhere. his heart belonged elsewhere. not chasing skirts.

drinking was dangerous.]

[ A woman had nothing to do with it; though, admittedly, it would remove some of the complications that held Sylvain back from addressing what he felt. Or feels, as the case may be. It’s still there, after all, buried under all his family obligations, and the mountains of bitterness and frustration that came with. Were Felix a woman, yes, it’d take care of the ridiculous biological imperative of Crest Babies, perhaps; but love... that knew no gender.

Clearly, it didn’t. And that much he’d known for years. It’s partly why he’d made that promise all that time ago, vowing to stay by Felix’s side until they died, after all. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, in truth. Sylvain chased girls for the fun, for the thrill, and as petty rebellion -- a way at venting his frustration at his lot in life, inescapable as he saw it. But his heart wasn’t in any of that.

It was here. Right here, warm and full next to Felix, lending him a little more of his own weight in return for receiving some of the other’s against him, a mutual give-and-take. A thumb rubs once again, fingers squeeze, and there’s a heavy, relaxed sigh.

Sylvain had thought more than once about what a single night might be like, if they could share one without consequence. Just one night alone, to love and be loved; to hold and be held; to share in intimacies both carnal and otherwise. What would they say, if they knew there would be no second chance? How would they sleep? In one another’s arms, or back-to-back? Or would Felix allow himself to be pulled to a chest, bundled up in blankets, with a heartbeat for a lullaby? Sylvain desperately wanted to know.

But at the same time, he refused to reduce Felix to that. Felix deserved better than a one-night stand, or even a committed relationship with a preset end date. He deserved something worthwhile; something lasting. Because he’d seen Felix when he was happy -- even if it was years ago -- and he was sublime.

But this -- leaning on one another, hands joined, bodies melding together in a warm and easy pile of familiar comfort... this is as far as they can go. They can’t be any more than this.

And it hurts. ]

[and while sylvain was suffering his introspection, felix is watching him calmly. he knew the look on his face. while he wasn't sure what was troubling him, he could hazard a guess. duty. he had his own. he was the only one left, really, and he had a line to continue. all complicated things that really didn't need to be. as felix saw it, there was duty and there was what he wanted and directions for his life to take.

it was all starting to get too much and he didn't like the look on sylvain's face, he just wasn't sure how to fix it. anything he could do would be clumsy, softened by drink and his own selfish needs- would sylvain even want...

what did he want?

shifting a little, hands still held like a lifeline, but he could have a better look at him now.]

Sylvain.

[not sure how he should word what was on his mind, or how to bring up any of the unsaid... things between them. but he had to. life was short and unexpected and felix wasn't content with just this.]

Are you happy?

[ Duty. Sylvain would be a much different person if not for the existence of one thing.

Why did he have to be the one born with a Crest...?

All it’s ever done is made him miserable, turning his one and only brother murderously jealous of him, saddling him with unwanted responsibilities. Granted, the idea of marriage in and of itself wasn’t so bad. But marrying for the sole purpose of carrying on a bloodline, turned any sweetness to it unpalatably sour.

Not wholly unlike Sylvain himself, underneath all his smiles and winks, flattery and incessant unfaithfulness. But he’d never let that show.

So then, why--]

What kind of a question is that?

[ It’s reflex, and likely transparent to someone like Felix, who knows the way the redhead’s entire demeanor seems to shift back to his typical upbeat and affable self with that answer. A chuckle is thrown in for good measure, just to add to the overall, “what a silly question!” effect he’s aiming for.

But then his volume decreases and his tone softens, eyes dropping to their joined hands. ]

Right now, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. [ And just as readily discernible as the earlier statement was as false, hopefully this reads in the opposite fashion -- a rarely-offered truth from the redhead. ]

I mean, I’ve got wine, and I’ve got you--... [--oops.

He stops short there, speech clipped as though just realizing he’s crossed a line he shouldn’t have broached, sadly all too late to stuff the words back into his mouth. ]

[he let's sylvain deflect, his own steady gaze unflinching. felix can let him laugh and say what he needs, until the actual answer comes to surface. because that was all felix needed. the follow up he was going to ask- was what he could do to make him happy. it was that important, so when the man softens and opens just that little bit...

it was the push he needed, with the help of that liquid courage they shared only moments before.

'and i've got you.'

loathe to let go, he opts to lean forward and reach over to grab sylvain's free hand, pulling it towards himself so he can press the man's palm over his frantically beating heart (which betrayed the stoicism he was trying to hold on to.)]

You make me happy.

[goddess he was bad at this.]

There are no crests in here. No family. Duty. War.

It's just you and me, Sylvain.

[and that was important.]

[ ’You make me happy.’

Those words blow right past Sylvain, circle back, and smack him right upside the head, like a poorly-thrown boomerang. Did he just say that...?! ]

I--... I do?

[ Good Goddess he sounds stupid right now. But can anybody blame him? This is Felix saying these things to him! Felix, who finds new ways to insult him near-daily; who almost never has anything nice to say to most anyone, really. Or so it seems. But, here they are, the redhead’s mouth slightly agape with surprise, golden eyes wide with shock. Under his palm now is a hasty drumbeat. ]

Your heart’s going a mile a minute... [--so it can’t be fake. And it can’t just be the wine, either. Which means it’s got to be...

A chance Sylvain can’t afford to take, nor to miss. ]

Felix, I...

[ In a split-second snap decision, he errs in favor of the latter. Pulling his hand from underneath Felix’s at his chest, bringing it to his cheek, he seizes his lips -- his best friend’s lips. It’s heated, firm, somehow powerful in a way... and over in a blink, once Sylvain realizes exactly what he’s just done.

He’s going to get punished for this. And Felix may be unarmed at the moment but he can still throw one hell of a punch.

RIP, Sylvain’s face. ]

[felix was very nearly about to call him an idiot- as if felix would lie about anything, especially this. after losing so much it has put other things in perspective, and goddess be damned he was lonely sometimes. not all the tears were crocodile when he would come whining and clinging to sylvain's chest. he supposed he always loved him, but the world got in the way.

growing... got in the way.

but after the years, watching people he knew and cared about die... watching dimitri slip away, grow mad. felix still wasn't sure if life was precious, but it was a breathing thing you needed to experience with whatever time was afforded to you before fate took it all away.

so. he was almost going to call him an idiot, but then he's kissing him and it was something he didn't even know he was aching for until it happened. yet it was gone too soon, and felix grouses a sound of irritation, letting go of sylvain's hand- and yes, it does look like he's going to strike him.

instead he's grabbing his dumb face, and he's so damned flustered it was dizzying.]

You're so stupid sometimes.

[grumbled before he pulls him in to kiss him back. it's a bit messy and clumsy, clearly not a skill felix has honed over the years. but he tried his best.]

[ To an extent, Felix and Sylvain followed the same path many childhood friends do. When they grew up, they grew apart. Not fully, of course, but enough. Seeing that yawning distance grow, in response, Sylvain did what Sylvain does best, of course: he put it out of his mind. Redirected himself to other, unhealthier coping mechanisms.

Girls, mainly. Girls became the focus. A new compliment each day; a new girlfriend every week. A constant flood of love letters -- some of which he’d even bother returning in heartfelt purple prose, just to toy with them further.

He’s a scoundrel, really.

So when they part and Felix draws back, Sylvain’s hands come up in a surrendering fashion. What he’s done was inexcusable; it was thoughtless, and--

--“stupid”.

Yes, that. Definitely that. And a word of apology is in its reserved space on the tip of his tongue when instead those combat-worn hands reach for him, and grab him back. For another kiss.

It’s not graceful. It’s not practiced. It’s hasty, needy, and so damned sincere that Sylvain can forgive the mispositioning of their noses, or the way he may or may not have felt teeth when and where he shouldn’t have. It doesn’t matter. Something in his chest goes off like a firework, and suddenly he’s got both arms around Felix’s waist like a lifeline, holding him like a man unwilling to let go. When they break for air, he’ll dive straight back in without thought, claiming Felix’s mouth in repeated, eager little pecks.

Forgive him. He's kissed plenty of times before, it's just... never quite felt this good. ]

[it was like nothing else mattered right now- or it didn't matter as much. felix felt years of tension melting out of himself as sylvain kissed him again, and again. it made him a little breathless, lips tingling with each. there was something electric and exciting and maybe he could understand the man's flirtatious ways if it felt like this each time.

despite his own needs, this wasn't something he sought out because felix deemed it far more trouble than what it was worth. or maybe no one else interested him to this extent so he didn't see the point in bothering. but with sylvain's arms around him, and the heat of the kisses... he hadn't felt this way before. the newness of it all was almost overwhelming.

finally, feeling flustered he raises a hand to stop another kiss.]

Hah... I need to breathe.

[he didn't mean it unkindly, but he did want the moment to take in everything. like... sylvain, for instance. this was the opportune time. pulling his hand back he, almost shyly, brushes a few strands of red hair aside so he can look the man in the eye better. he doesn't say anything, instead opting to lean in again for a slower, more controlled kiss, where his lips lingered afterwards and he allowed himself to breathe the man in. he smelled faintly of wine, tasted of it too.

felix had no complaints.]

[ Unlike with every other kiss before, here and now, Sylvain could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears, hasty, almost racing. So many things said to him in the past that had seemed abstract, or merely trite tokens, now made sense. ”Save yourself for something meaningful”, they’d said; he’d argued that they all were.

Now he knows why that response had frustrated them.

Because this? This is meaningful. This is right. Enough that his mind isn’t even wandering off in the middle of it like it usually does. He isn’t two, three, or even four steps ahead -- he’s right in the moment, even if that means he has no idea where they’re to go from here. And that should terrify him, rightly; but it doesn’t.

The rest of the world that left him when their lips met comes back in in a trickle when Felix puts his hand up to ask for a pause. Sylvain, while lightly chuckling, obliges with a forehead momentarily to the other’s shoulder. ]

You too, huh?

[ When he pulls back into view, however, there’s a smile on his face that’s achingly earnest, and a flush to his cheeks that seems to correspond perfectly. Felix absolutely does not help matters at all by sweeping red hair out of his face, either. Their next meeting is much more controlled and lasting, leaving lower lips to linger against one another while they break away. Arms encircle the shorter man at waist-level, lazily looped, not tugging or confining. They stay there as Sylvain draws back, a look on his face that’s--

--sheepish? It’s completely out of place on him. ]

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but...

[ a beat, as though he has to summon the courage for this one ]

I actually don’t want to go back to my room tonight.

[ and another pause. ]

I’d rather be here, with you, than anywhere else.

[felix was thankful for the breather, as this was all rather new to him and rather overwhelming. not in a bad way, of course, he just needed to... adjust? but it was definitely welcome, sylvain was welcome. and it all felt a bit surreal, now that he had the moment to think about it. he couldn't help thinking about the man's way with women, did he say the same things?

no... that was an awful thing to ponder, because felix would like to think he knew sylvain better than most and he knew when the man was being genuine.

it came less and less these days, probably with all the looming threats and their adulthood on their shoulders but...

this was genuine. he could hear it and he could see it.

felix could only scoff lightly, brushing his fingers through that mess of red once more.]

I have my doubts about that, but...

[he was so bad at this it was laughable.]

You don't have to. Leave, I mean.

I want you to stay.

Then I’ll stay.

[ What other response was there, really, to such a rare, humble request from Felix? He didn’t say such things so bluntly, after all; not even as a joke. It isn’t his style. Which means...

...he’s being serious about this.

Serious as a tipsy swordsman can be in a moment like this, at least. Sylvain wasn’t much better off, of course; but judgment could wait until later to be passed. A minute passes wherein the redhead seems to simply revel in the feeling of fingers in his hair, eyes closed and a deep breath taken, exhaled as a pleased sigh. With that passed, however--]

Think you’ve got room for me up here?

[--in the bed, he means. It’s a silly question, maybe, but he’s also not entirely of sound mind for the time being, either. ]

[felix scoff softly, pressing his forehead against sylvain's. the bed was more suited for one teenager to occupy, and they were two grown men... but he was sure it would be fine. he had great pride in his own adaptability, even with things that were making him grow increasingly nervous, like sharing a bed with one of his very closest friends (whom he was painfully attracted to.)

he doesn't answer right away, shifting a little to get a bit more comfortable.]

Probably.

[trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach, the backs of his fingers idly stroking at sylvain's neck.]

We can check. If there isn't, we'll make it work anyway.

[ It’d be some pretty tight quarters, frankly. The beds had never been particularly spacious, even when they were younger. So, to hear Felix was willing to “make it work”, says quite a lot. More than he knows.

Then again, they were just kissing, weren’t they? So, maybe...

...Well. That’s something likely best pondered over later, with a clearer mind. ]

Let’s check, then. [ He tries to hide a tickly shiver from the fingers at his neck, and likely fails. ] If you’re done drinking, of course.

[ They’re fresh out of liquid courage, aren’t they? ]

Of course I am.

[another scoff, a little bluster. this was not his area of expertise, and he couldn't even remember the last time he shared a bed. when he was a kid? with his brother? a period lost in time, that was for sure.

so he untangles himself from the man, standing so he can unbuckle his belt. felix wasn't undressing fully, but if he was going to squeeze in tight with someone all night he wanted to breathe and be comfortable. he was hardly shy, either, not with sylvain- not even with light confessions and warm kisses.

when he decides his slacks and tunic were enough he crawls into bed, pointedly ignoring sylvain- was that a faint flush on his cheeks? before he presses his back to the wall, stretching out and laying down.

there.

sylvain can fit how he likes.]

Come on then.

[ Given their history, neither of them had any reason to be shy, did they? So if Felix is comfortable stripping down surely Sylvain isn’t about to argue. He’ll remove the same layers, setting them aside with everything else.

He’s surprised, however, to see his cohort all-but pasted to the wall at the far side of the bed, however... but, sure. Sylvain will fill the empty space, settling himself right in the center of it, flat on his back with legs outstretched. ]

You sure you don’t need more room than that? I’m not a giant, you know.

[ A beat, and surely Felix can tell what’s coming by the sly curl of Sylvain’s lips as his head angles that way. ] Though I guess compared to you...

[ You may now slug the husband. ]

[one of these days, sylvain, he is going to chuck you in the fishing pond. his intent was to have the man get comfortable so he could fix his own self in a way that benefited them both.

felix scowls at the tease, and he was too tired to argue or punch him. but! that won't stop him from trying to shove the taller man off the damn bed.]

You can sleep on the floor then.

[he didn't mean it, of course.]

[ Sylvain fully expects a judo throw into the fishing pond for a remark like that, at a later date to be determined. He laughs at the shove, hands up in placating fashion. Felix doesn’t put too much force behind it, thankfully -- or else he’d have the deed done in a hot second. ]

Alright, alright, I deserved that one. [ He spears Felix with something of A Look then. ] ...But you’re not seriously going to sleep all the way over there, are you?

[ Come on, they were just kissing what, ten minutes ago? Surely they can at least cuddle. ]

[the question catches him off guard (which it shouldn't) as did The Look. felix could feel the heat rising up his neck, brows furrowing a little. this really wasn't his area of expertise, and his gaze flits down the length of sylvain's body, the way he was laying there.

it... was inviting. however felix had no idea how to... place himself? without feeling like a flustered fool, really.]

Of course not.

[of course he wouldn't just... be over here.

with the way sylvain was looking at him, he knew he was expected to move, which only made him more flustered.

help him.]

[ A single brow perks. So, he’s not going to stay over there, but he’s not moving either...

...Hang on a second. Does Felix not know how to cuddle? Well, to answer that question, Sylvain need only ask himself exactly how many times he’s seen or heard of Felix engaging in that sort of activity.

So, none. Got it. Okay, he’s on this. ]

Here. [ he says while extending a hand, seeking one from Felix. From there, it’ll be relatively simple to lace their fingers, tugging in a luring way, (rather than insistent; that’s the last thing he wants), as he slips an arm under whatever pillow the other has sought to claim. ] There’s no wrong way to go about this; it’s about what feels good.

[ And, given that this is Felix, it’s incredibly likely what’ll feel best is his back to that wall; but, it never hurts to try. ]

If you’re not comfortable, just move around until you are. Simple as that.

[the helping hand lured him so easily, the warmth of the man causing the heat to rise in his own body. exhaling softly he can't raising his own brow as he starts to move towards sylvain.]

Hoh...? You must say that a lot.

[a quip? a tame little tease to help alleviate his anxiety? perhaps. watching sylvain's movements, shifting a bit closer until he could feel the heat rolling off the taller man. slowly he settles down as comfortably as he can.

he couldn't help the light nerves.]

...Get closer.

[a little demanding, since felix didn't want to just fit himself against the man at the get go. the pride in him refused to seem so eager.]

[ Sylvain makes no excuses for himself. ] Well, yeah. It applies to a lot.

[ At least, a lot in his mind, which isn't full of swords and swordplay and training, training, training at any and all hours. There are definitely "right" and "wrong" ways to that. In contrast, maybe this will be a breath of fresh air for Felix? ...Maybe?

Ah, who is he kidding... ]

You can get closer too, you know. [ Said as he wriggles in, as requested, attempting to get Felix's head tucked under his chin, where it'll be most comfortable. ] This is a two-way road.

[at least sylvain was self aware. that was something.

felix bites back any quips he may have as the other man draws nearer. he allows himself this moment, eyes closing as he concentrates on the scent of him and how warm his body is. and this may be the first (perhaps only?) time felix has ever been so compliant where sylvain was concerned, he shifts and moves easily so he can fit against the man more comfortably.]

Shut up.

[murmured with a soft little scowl, but... he does.

felix was also caught in an overwhelming urge to kiss the man, but the way he was tucked under his chin... well. perhaps he can just lean in such a way so he can press warm lips to sylvain's neck. which he does.

three times: to the curve of his adam's apple, a little lower, then while he angles his own neck just a bit so he can plant a kiss closer to his shoulder- to whatever skin was exposed.]

[ Of all the things Sylvain could have reasonably expected in this moment, a kiss to his neck at a time like this, for some reason, was not among them. So when he receives one, there’s a flicker of surprise that just barely precedes the pleasure that follows, tickly and warm as it passes over his body in an unseen ripple. Audibly, there’s a hitch in his breath, not quite a gasp, that exhales in an indulgent sigh.

Though it might not appear as much, the effect is powerful -- likely more so than it would’ve otherwise been on account of the pleasant hum of alcohol in his veins -- and his response is--... well, he can temper that. Barely. There’s still a roll onto side nevertheless, a free arm wrapping over Felix to create a lazy, disconnected hold on the man.

Slyly: ] Thought you were going to sleep. Was I wrong...?

[ He’s not complaining. Not a bit. In fact, he’s a bit too fond of the idea of where this kind of thing has the potential to go, though he doesn’t think it will head that way. Or at least, he doesn’t want to make any assumptions. ]

I never said I was.

[a curt little reply, murmured against sylvain's neck. he felt the hitch of breath, practically against his lips. felix may not be well versed in the art of intimacy, but he wasn't completely stupid or naive. he was still a man grown. he couldn't promise himself to anyone, not until after the war was won, so he was unsure on how far he was willing to go- but for sylvain he was ready to make an exception.

not like he was thinking too much ahead, felix was a man who ran on instinct after all. and instinct told him to graze previously kissed flesh with his teeth. nothing that would mark- in case the man wanted to attract more women in the near future (and he hated how mindful he was of this fact, it made his guts twist,) but definitely enough that the man could feel it.

his own arm rests across the man as he breaths him in, eyes closing briefly.]

Why, are you tired?

[ Okay, so Sylvain may have grievously misjudged matters when he’d initially suspected they’d be simply sleeping in Felix’s bed, as opposed to sleeping together. Looking back on it now, he wonders why and how he’d come to that conclusion.

He feels that initial reply just as well as he hears it, the threatening half-graze, half-pinch of teeth at the tender skin of his neck leaving him breathless for a moment before offering a low, pleased hum of approval. He’d tempt the swordsman into leaving behind a more permanent memoir there, but... no one would ever believe where he got it. ]

If I was, not anymore.

[ Emphasis on the ‘if’ there, frankly, because no matter how mellow the buzz has him feeling, he’s still with Felix, and Sylvain would have to be unconscious or dead to not know what a limited time offer this is. A true rarity.

Which makes it a little frustrating to be presently in a position where the only reciprocity he can offer are kisses to the top of Felix’s head, and a gentle rub of his back and side, but they’ll have to do, for the moment. Besides, anything more might be viewed as too impulsive; too forward. And Sylvain would rather have this level of contact rather than to gamble on getting more, and likely coming up broke. ]

(tfln - overflow)

sorry for delay! was watching a movie

three houses distracted me for ages, jeezums.

it be like that tho tbh

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forgive me for kinda adding backstory details ;; lmk if you want me to change anything!

oh no it's great! i love it.

yay!

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this thread just got wholesome

honestly

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i passed out for a day lmao i am so sorry;;;;

shhh i backtag forever, it's all good c:

thank goodness. i do too.

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can you tell i really want a cuddle thread lmao

i mean same

points at my eyes, points at yours.... u know what we must do

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