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Cosmic Adder

Summary:

Sex and violence. The blood cries out for it.

In modern-day Fódlan, kaiju occurrences are on the rise. Jaeger pilots Felix Fraldarius and Sylvain Gautier could not be more poorly matched.

Sylvix, but Pacific Rim. Updates every Tuesday and Friday.

Notes:

So, all this started because Lashe and I met on a Discord server back in July, discovered our mutual love for all things kaiju/jaeger, and did a Setelix RP that will never be posted anywhere but proved that we are a pair of degenerates who work remarkably well together. I, of course, pimped my short fic "Cosmic Adder," she read it and liked it for some reason, and a long, long, LONG RP was born.

You don't need to read the OG "Cosmic Adder" first, but if you want to meet the Progenitor God, now's your chance. https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503253/chapters/76729934

Chapter 1: Shave-and-a-Haircut

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

                                                                   

Who in the actual fuck did that guy think he was?

Felix returned to his bunker and threw his helmet against the wall. It bounced back unhelpfully, rolling to a shaky stop at his feet. He spun on his heel, plopping down ruefully on the edge of his bed. Elbows on knees, hands on face, he sat slumped over as memories of this asinine, horrible, fucking idiotic week played out.

It was their first class. All the new cadets who had been individually Drift-certified were brought in collectively. Not long after, through some obviously faulty algorithm, cadets were paired with other new pilots to find their Drifting counterparts. And that was where it started.

Felix’s eyes and everyone else’s had wandered to the redhead at one point or another. And how the hell could they not? The man was tall, well-built, ruggedly handsome. So when he found out they were to be paired, Felix didn’t have much to complain about…

…until about 4.37 seconds into their goddamn maiden voyage.

It was supposed to be a nice, easy, well-manageable trial run. A small level-two kaiju, all functions and aspects readily identifiable. Cosmic Adder, their Mark-2, was decked out in the latest and greatest tech. Weather conditions for deployment were perfect; all aspects of the mission were more than ideal. 

If you didn’t count the dichotomy of the pilots.

It was as if they had gone to completely different trainings. There were fucking rules and goddamn procedures for a reason; Felix understood and adhered to that. The only issue was getting that big fucker to appreciate and understand even a portion of what was expected of the top two recruits in the year’s crop. But no. All of that went out the window with his wildcard tactics. Hearing the other man spouting some nonsense about “unpredictability being the only variable we always have” had Felix up in arms from the start, and things only devolved from there.

And now, after getting just royally reamed and raw-dogged by their direct Commanding Officer, Felix was sent back to his quarters. Angry, pissed, and petulant, he never wanted to see that fucker again.

*

"But it's true!" Sylvain ranted to himself as he stalked back to his own dormitory, helmet dangling from one hand and clanging against the walls as he passed. As much as the shorter pilot loved his tactics and plans for plans, Sylvain knew one thing with absolute certainty, and it was this: You never know what's gonna happen out there, kid.  

A twisted sneer. A matted mop of red hair. An explosion. Sand in his mouth and blood, too, as he collapsed onto the beach, grabbing his mother's skirts.

He knew where Felix's dormitory was--the poor bastard had been unlucky enough to get the room right next to Sylvain's. He rolled over on his bed to face the wall and banged his helmet into it: Clang clang clang.

"Hey, Felix?" he shouted. "You still up?"

Of course he was up.

"Sorry!" Clang. "About!" Clang. "My fuck-up earlier!" Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang. Clang-clang. 

Sylvain had been lying on his bed and kicking his legs in the air with silent glee. He hadn't meant to botch the test, but he did become privy to some new and very exciting information:

Felix was fucking hot when he was pissed.

He rolled off the bed, not bothering to straighten the sheets or his own clothing, then went next door and knocked, this time with his fist.

Shave-and-a-haircut, two bits.

*

Meanwhile, in--clang--the--clang --not silence--clang-clang-clang, clang-clang--of his room, Felix laid flat on his back.

He was going to kill him.

That was it.

Felix made his peace with his murderous intentions; if he was going to do it, he might as well do it correctly, throw in premeditation for good measure. As he lay there in the dark, he became vaguely aware of the fact that his thoughts were met with silence. No more clangs, no shouting, no nothing.

The silence was suspicious. And, as if by clockwork, the melodic knocking and now, shouting, had arrived at his door.

He should have let Sylvain tire himself out.

Felix debated answering, weighing his options as to which one would be worse. If he didn't answer, Sylvain would likely continue clanging until he tired himself out. That in and of itself wasn't a bad idea. No, what concerned Felix was what would happen after the fact. Sylvain, this allegedly grown-ass man, fucking pouted.

And god damnit if he didn't do it well. Kicked goddamn puppies could learn a thing or two from the man...and it killed Felix. Not enough to resist bickering and sometimes outright arguing with him, of course, but enough to convince him of another option.

If he answered, maybe they could be done with whatever asinine thing he wanted to say. No harm, no foul, and no kicked-puppy-dog eyes.

Gripping his helmet, Felix clanged back. Then, against his better judgment, he answered the door.

*

Sylvain's grin widened as he heard the grumble of his new co-pilot's stomach. The doors were old, heavy metal that'd snap your finger off in an instant (Sylvain knew! He'd seen it! It wasn't just stories he'd heard to scare the new recruits!), and yet he could still hear the hunger pangs.

"Come to dinner with me, Felix. All that rage must've worked up quite an appetite," he called. He offered up a stupidly big grin to the battered metal, the one he used to get something he particularly wanted.

When the door swung open, Sylvain swung his arms open broadly as if for a hug, then thought the better of it when he saw Felix's sour expression. It was always awkward when things didn't go to plan...he lifted both arms up and linked his hands behind his neck, kneading at the nape in the way that always soothed him.

That the pose emphasized his, well, everything was beside the point. He was hungry.

"What d'you think they'll have tonight?"

As he looked up, and up, Felix let his eyes travel down and then back to Sylvain’s face. The stance he took...why did he even need to do that? It wasn't like anyone wasn’t already aware that the man was a fucking Adonis.

Felix tore his gaze from the specimen in front of him. "Cheap shit." 

Turning from the wall of man, Felix flicked the back of his hand against Sylvain's wide chest as he stepped down the corridor towards the mess hall. Felix spoke over his shoulder, expecting Sylvain to catch up with his long-ass steps.

"How much do you think this place actually changes the menu? This isn't some resort."

Sylvain couldn't help but feel like the sharp "cheap shit" was directed at him as well as the (admittedly) cheap shit that awaited them in the mess hall. He had no trouble keeping up with Felix, though he did intentionally linger a few paces behind for a moment, amused at the rancor, the determination behind each clipped step.

He caught up to Felix easily as they entered the large room to the clamor of dented pots and pans, the somber scrape of cutlery against battered plates. 

"Well, it's probably going to be some kind of mystery meat and a grain. Maybe some anemic-looking vegetables if we're lucky? Come on, new friend! Our culinary adventure awaits!" Sylvain clapped him once on the back before making for the line, displaying far more enthusiasm for the food than he felt. 

“New friend, p--oof.

Felix stumbled forward with the sound clap to his back. Catching himself with quick steps, he righted himself, shooting a glare at fucking sunshine incarnate.

It was a drab mess hall, nothing extraordinary, equipment and people included. Everything in neutral, drab colors, equipment and people included. But not Felix’s ‘new friend.’ No, standing heads above most, his thick auburn locks and megawatt smile stuck out from the otherwise muted tableau. That was why Felix’s eye was drawn to him. Why everyone’s were.

Shaking his head, Felix took his place in line, stepping in front of Sylvain. Standing on his tiptoes, he looked around the line of recruits through the glass partitions where, “You guessed it. Congratulations. You get gruel of mystery meat and something that once resembled rice.”

Exasperatingly hip bloggers and terrible long-winded mommy recipes had once referred to them as ‘ancient grains.’ Next to them sat a steaming pile of the most dark, wilted…oh fuck no.

Felix grabbed a segmented metal tray and slid it along the dulled chrome pipes. He watched, filled with something like horror, as he received his allotted scoop of mystery meat. He lay in wait like a predator, eyes never leaving the server until another scoop was awkwardly dumped into one of the squares. After the second squelch, Felix picked up the tray, pointedly avoiding both the gravelly grains and the hard pass of whatever the fuck vegetables those were supposed to be. Picking up a bottle of water and the least-dented cutlery he could find, he headed toward the empty tables on one side of the large room.

"Hey, is that spinach?" Sylvain asked enthusiastically as his copilot sat down, spearing Felix's portion and hefting it onto his own plate. He'd seen the disappointed look on the other man's face and figured he wouldn't mind. He didn't seem much like the type for vegetables, anyway. "You can have some of...whatever the fuck this is. If you want it."

Regardless of whether or not Felix wanted it, Sylvain was already scooping half of his portion of meat onto the other man's tray with a gigantic smile. Eat up, he thought silently. His new partner was small but wiry, someone Sylvain wouldn't want to encounter drunk in a dark alleyway. Mean as a kaiju, too. But those pretty, pretty eyes...

Sylvain realized he was staring and busied himself with opening his water bottle. "So, where do you think it came from this time, our bounty of unknown origins?"

Felix looked suspiciously between the smiling man and his offering. Hesitantly, he answered the question asked.

“…Probably from the eastern reserves where most of the stock is kept where they still have the grow facilities--wh-what are you doing?”

The accusatory question bookended his response, sharp eyes narrowing on Sylvain. “When shit starts to run out and they call for strict rationing, they’re going to get rid of this first. You need to eat it when you can.”

Felix began forking large bites into his mouth, not unlike a snake unhinging its jaw to devour its prey. “But this is mine now, so. Thanks. Or whatever.”

Sylvain resisted the urge to tell him, Hey, I'm giving this to you as a kindness because you look like I could snap you over my fucking knee, pal, and instead gave him a wink. 

"Aw, Felix, don't worry about me! If they do end up cutting our rations, I'm sure I'll find someone to take me in and feed me to make sure I don't starve. I'm just so cute." 

He pouted and gave puppy dog eyes, knowing he was coming on strong as hell and loving every minute of it. Fraternities hazed; Sylvain flirted. If Felix was going to be caught in the unending hell of the Drift with him, he'd better learn how to roll, and fast.

Felix stared at the big puppy seated in front of him. His molten eyes narrowed, unimpressed at what would be an otherwise impressive pout if even a sliver of it was sincere. Felix deadpanned dryly, “You’re not that cute.”

He paused to drink, Adam’s apple bobbing as he drained his water. Screwing the cap back on, he continued, unfazed. 

“At any rate. Cosmic Adder is a two-person rig. Until they come back and say they made a mistake with our Drift diagnostics, I need you for that. So I will worry about whatever the hell I want.”

In Sylvain's ample experience, You're not that cute was always an admission, a challenge.  You're definitely that cute, but I refuse to say it so you'll have to make me. And he always made them, in the end.

In this case, he was not so sure. Felix seemed to want to keep things all-business, which was fine. For now. He took an overzealous mouthful of the spinach, hesitated, and contemplated his colossal mistake before forcing himself to swallow it with a grin. When he smiled, he had the nagging sense that there was a bit of spinach in his teeth, but he could not possibly give less of a shit.

"'Until,' huh. What makes you think this was a mistake? They don't make mistakes."

It was probably a mistake. 

*

So he was a dumb puppy.

Felix suppressed an involuntary laugh and shiver when he saw Sylvain's momentary rictus grin before easing into the one he wore so easily. This was obviously not the first time he had to swallow shit he didn't like. Felix could respect that kind of stupid follow-through, but that he didn't avoid it in the first place? It was just a lesson for the growing puppy about what to not to fuck with.

"Until," he agreed. Unbidden, thoughts of the lockstep this father and brother had for...all his fucking life were threatening to resurface. Same mannerisms, same tall builds, same stupid fucking humor, same KIA date. 

Felix had been lucky enough to share their raven hair.

He spooned at the portion of food from his partner's plate, who couldn't possibly have been more different from himself. 

"First time for everything."

God, now Felix was practically baiting him. Sylvain refused to make a joke about first times, willed himself not to, bit back the words, told himself diligently First thought, second thought, Sylvain.

"Well, there are still a few first times I haven't had," he said, leaning into the table on one elbow and planting his chin in his hand. "How about you, comrade?"

He expected to receive a metal plate to the head. He hoped to receive a metal plate to the head, because he deserved it. However, he also knew that Felix, for all his attempts at stability, probably had a bit of a temper on him, was something of a wild card. Stubborn didn’t even begin to describe him.

He'd try to beat Sylvain at his own game eventually, and Sylvain would lose happily every time.

He hummed a little to himself, contemplating what his fate might be.

*

As Sylvain draped himself over the table, as he looked at Felix with those eyes while addressing him in such a suggestive way...Felix recoiled only to slink forward, his own eyes locked on the other’s gaze.

Extending his arm, he brushed his fingers up the redhead's well-defined forearm. Featherlight touches danced over raised veins running the length of his hardened muscles, strength obvious in its form. Felix was a man, sometimes a carnivore, and he wasn't above appreciating meat for what it was.

His hand slid up fluidly over the rough edges of Sylvain's hardened hand, letting his soft touch linger for a self-indulgent moment before he clamped down on the man's large paw. Bringing it down to the table, Felix's thin fingers maneuvered to the small expanse of skin hiding the bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger, applying a surprising amount of pressure for an offhand, while still seated.

With far too sharp a grin, he gritted out, "There's one or two things, now that you mention it."

Sylvain's pupils blew as Felix boldly met his gaze. He was...flirting back. Most unexpected; Sylvain made a mental note to store the data away for future reference. Personal or professional was inconsequential at the moment. He bit back a little sigh as well-worn fingertips skimmed the sensitive skin of his forearm.

When those fingers took his palm in a surprisingly strong grip, Sylvain idly wondered whether Felix was a leftie. He let his eyelids flutter for just a moment, playing his role perfectly, leaning in just a little more. The keenness of Felix's expression--almost more of a baring of teeth than a smile--did not escape him. Felix was a barracuda. Sylvain was in dangerous waters. 

Sylvain liked dangerous waters.

He covered the slender, powerful hand with his own, caressing the lovely sharp turn of his wrist. He leaned closer; they were almost sharing breath now.

"Oh?" he murmured. "And what might those one or two things be?"

Though his eyes widened, Felix's basic positioning and posture remained unchanged as the large man anted up, raising the stakes that he, himself, had raised just a moment prior. If pressed, Felix still wouldn't admit that the gentleness of his caress juxtaposed against his rough hands was not an entirely unwelcome sensation; far from it.

This was a test though. Some stupid ass-game of chicken that he had unintentionally started and now, Sylvain was trying to beat him at his own game. For however much longer they had to deal with each other as Drift partners (because really, it couldn't have been right), Felix had no illusions that Sylvain would let him live this down. Fuck that.

Amber eyes scanned their left and right. Most of the people remaining in the hall were closer to the front, gathered in company groups, attention elsewhere. With his hand unmoved, Felix's gaze went back to Sylvain as he stood. His free hand rose to the other man’s face, dragging the pad of his thumb over Sylvain’s pouty and plush lower lip.

Leaning ever closer, Felix purred softly, "You'd know if we were compatible."

"This is, I think, far from an ideal location to discover just how compatible we are," Sylvain purred in response, his voice a deep sonorous rumble. He had drawn even nearer, so close now that his lips just barely brushed Felix's cheek as he spoke. He wanted to kiss him, and badly. It had been so long since someone had made Sylvain feel this way that he'd begun to wonder if it had changed.

It had changed, and it was probably because few people were ever this forward with him. Or perhaps it was because it was Felix, who he'd assumed hated him until moments before. Sylvain did, after all, like a challenge. Immensely.

He pursed his lips around the thumb and pressed the tip of his tongue to the skin, just enough to tease. Then he rose from the table and grabbed Felix's wrist abruptly, leading him to his quarters without words.

Thank god for a single bunk, Sylvain thought as he nudged the door open with an impatient shoulder. And double thanks for his meticulous nature; nothing was out of place. But hopefully, the bed would be soon enough.

Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SM28-RZkDU&list=PL_wJ9Wbw6Erx6VfcudgZfvxRHVxy6dZi5&index=1

Chapter 2: First Times

Summary:

He wished his reaction was one of propriety. Felix wished his reaction was even one of horror. He wished he had met this energy as he had in their Drift test: both sides of the same polarized magnet, repelling at every point, felt the strongest when they were forced together. But here, now, pressed against each other?

The magnet flipped.

Notes:

Sex and violence. The blood cries out for it.

Chapter Text

Felix's traitorous lungs betrayed him and a ghost of a gasp escaped when he felt the combined sensations that were Sylvain's warm, wet mouth. Before he could rush through any means of damage control whatsofuckingever, the big man pulled him up, leading him away from the table.

"Syl--!"

The grip around his wrist was firm but not painful. Seeing his actions, watching his movements, hearing his deep timbre...they weren't fighting. Their everything seemed charged, but they weren't fighting. At least, not yet.

After his initial struggle, unless he made the decision to elevate whatever this was to actual fighting, Felix had enough common sense to know he wasn't going to be let go until Sylvain wanted to. And so, he walked, lengthening his strides to match Sylvain's purposeful steps, nervous energy amplifying with each.

Soon enough, Felix found himself inside Sylvain's quarters. It was here that, had he not been preoccupied, he would spare a thought regarding Sylvain's surprising tidiness.

When the heavy door closed, Felix's back remained at its entry. He breathed out, forcing himself to maintain his composure. Though, even that seemed like an exercise in futility. There was an intensity, some incorporeal electricity that made his hair stand on end.

Wrist still engulfed by Sylvain's warm hand, Felix commented dryly, "You know we left the table without cleaning. We could get written up for that."

"Hmm, doesn't matter," Sylvain murmured. "I'm sure I can charm our way out of it, no matter what they want to do to us. Because it's worth it for what I'm about to do to you..."

The line was hopelessly cheesy and if he hadn't been so utterly lost in Felix, he would have cringed at and hated himself. But for now, he was leaning forward and using his free hand to get leverage around the back of Felix's slender, pretty neck and pulling him closer, closer. 

The kiss was not gentle, though Sylvain generally prided himself on his overall skill, his artistry. He first bit at Felix's lip, then attacked open-mouthed, teeth clashing together. He didn't mind the pain; in fact, he relished it. His grip remained firm on Felix's wrist as he brought the shorter man's arm up, pinning it above his head against the door. 

All at once, there was all of Sylvain. He was pulled as his neck was grabbed. His lips were attacked, white, pearly teeth gnashing against them. His wrist, still held, was pinned up against the door with another clang, this one muffled by the cushion of their entwined hands.

He wished his reaction was one of propriety. Felix wished his reaction was even one of horror. He wished he had met this energy as he had in their Drift test: both sides of the same polarized magnet, repelling at every point, felt the strongest when they were forced together. But here, now, pressed against each other?

The magnet flipped.

Felix surged forward, threading his fingers through Sylvain’s soft, thick locks and pulling him closer, giving just as good as he got. Nearly snarling, he bit back against Sylvain's plush lip, quickly following it with a line of his tongue. 

Felix tasted the faint metallic tang of blood and moaned into Sylvain’s mouth. 

And that fucking moan was what finally did Sylvain in. 

He suckled Felix's lip into his mouth and licked his own blood from the swollen flesh. He really didn't have any sense of decency, of propriety--after all, he considered himself to be an absolute whore in bed, which was why he tightened his grip on the back of Felix's neck and practically dragged him to the neatly-made bunk.

Sylvain lingered on his back for a moment, letting Felix have his way with him, but then he thought the better of it. He was going to make this little bastard--this incredibly sexy bastard, who he wanted desperately now--learn exactly what he was capable of. 

He flipped the smaller man onto his back and straddled his hips, now pinning both of his hands to the mattress. For a moment, he wondered how tight was "too tight," how hard he could grip before Felix wound up with some very difficult-to-explain bruises...and then realized that he didn't care and pressed his fingertips in hard, feeling the tendons in Felix’s wrists roll beneath fever-hot skin.

"Bite me again," he whispered into Felix's ear, "and I'll do unspeakable things to you. I promise." 

Felix sank into the mattress, pressed down by Sylvain's bulkier frame. He hissed and squirmed in Sylvain’s bruising grip, back arching off the bed. The breathy, threatening whisper in his ear sent an alarming shock to his entire system, and all his mental faculties were reduced to absolutely nothing. All that remained was Sylvain. And as a creature of passions, Felix would challenge him.

He strained up, craning his neck to meet Sylvain’s opposite ear. His voice was labored, not only from their frenzied movements but from the man’s weight, yet his impertinent question was clear. 

“Where?” 

Felix tongued Sylvain’s ear briefly and nipped it with sharp canines before relaxing onto the bed once more.

Just as Sylvain expected, Felix hissed and fought and bit and scratched and struggled...but it was all for show. The way he was moving up against Sylvain made him want to tear him apart, and badly. 

"Anywhere you want, Felix, but remember...I'm going to make you fucking cry ," he murmured against the smaller man's collarbone, sucking a mark just below where his shirt would fall. (He was, after all, a considerate lover.)

He stripped out of his plain t-shirt but didn't bother removing Felix's, choosing instead to ruck it up to the other man’s chin as he slid his hands up the lithe body sprawled beneath him. He added his mouth, his teeth, his tongue to the assault, not intending to stop until the other man was begging for more.

"And," he murmured as he dipped his tongue into the shallow well of Felix's navel, "I'm going to fucking ruin you." His voice was all sunshine and sweetness despite the darkness of his words.

Felix bucked in response to the hotspot created by Sylvain's threatening mouth. He said so many things Felix didn't understand, but all he could focus on was the warmth of his mouth, the comforting and compressing weight of his body, and the strain that was beginning in his pants.

After promising to make Felix cry, Sylvain sat up to peel off his shirt. Yet, in the moment, it didn't even register that his hands were no longer pinned. Still above his head, arms hovering slightly above the mattress, Felix stared with wide eyes, drinking in Sylvain's muscled form. Lost in the moment, Felix lost the opportunity for much else before his hands were back on him.

Felix was ready to protest why he couldn't take his off like Sylvain had done when the words died in his throat as Sylvain's wet tongue dipped into the curve of his navel. The words, whatever they were, instead, were replaced by a gravelly groan from his chest. Felix watched the man lower himself, his pupils blown wide as the wet organ traced his untouched skin, Sylvain's words flowing over him; a sensation like Felix had never experienced (not that any of this was).

Regaining some semblance of bodily control, Felix rose on his elbows, eyes locked on Sylvain. Not knowing what he was referring to, Felix told him anyway. In a lust-hazed voice, he challenged, "Fucking do it then."

Sylvain growled at the hunger in Felix's voice and trailed his tongue down the faint trail of hair beneath Felix's navel to bite at the waistband of his pants. He deftly unzipped them with his teeth, fingers popping the button at the same time. 

Then he was snapping and pulling at the elastic on Felix's underwear with sharp pearly teeth. It was the same garment they'd all been issued upon recruitment, and somehow it looked different on Felix. He paused for a reverent moment to run his thumbs over the jutting hip bones, the marimba of his ribcage. Best to soothe the savage beast before making his big move.

He pulled Felix's cock through the opening at the front of his boxers and tongued relentlessly at the slit, keeping his eyes trained on Felix's the entire time. He wanted to be taken apart? Sylvain could definitely do that.

Felix watched Sylvain with slack-jawed awe at the finesse and dexterity of his large fingers...and teeth. There was so much to all of this that Felix had never even thought of. Not that sex per se was something he thought about often, but he knew what he would be thinking about now when he did.

When the touches to his hips and ribcage came, Felix was confused at how they felt sensitive. Never in his life had any part of either of those parts felt sensitive, yet under Sylvain’s careful touch, Felix found himself contracting at his core, whimpering slightly with his turns and tensing up as the curious touches served more to tantalize than satisfy.

When Sylvain finally released his cock, it sprung from its confines. Before Felix had the time to register what was happening, much less decide if he should even feel embarrassed or shy or anything else, Sylvain's mouth was upon him again. Hungry eyes trained on his own, Felix couldn't stop from throwing his head back, gasping. His secondary reaction was to reflexively thrust his hips up, seeking out more of Sylvain's proven warm and talented mouth. Yet, with no little fucking effort, Felix restrained himself.

Watching the man made his toes curl in his boots; his fists balled into the once-made bed covers. He was dangerously close to drawing blood from how hard he was biting into his lip. A series of wordless moans littered the room, a reaction for every small movement. He willed himself to keep looking down at those devilish brown eyes and wickedly talented tongue.

Sylvain marveled at the way taut muscle flexed beneath his fingers, his mouth, and let out a small appreciative moan in response. Felix's response to his touch when he finally, finally took his cock in his mouth told him everything he needed to know: this one was probably a virgin.

"One of your firsts?" he muttered, pulling off just long enough to speak. And then he was at it again, boldly meeting Felix's amber eyes and winking once as he sucked, hollowing his cheeks around the tip. His fingers danced along Felix's rim, not daring to press, just enough to tease. He doubted the other man had ever experimented much himself, and a tiny thrill ran through him at the prospect of being his first.

Already, his cock was weeping and Felix could hear himself whimper. (Fucking whimpering!?)

Fucking whimpering.

The concept became reality when Sylvain hollowed out his cheeks, sucking him in. Felix brought his hands in; small, red half-moon patterns dotted his palms. At his teasing tone, Felix could do little more than glare, choking out, "Shut the fuck u--" 

When Sylvain returned to his busy work, Felix felt a probing pressure on his pucker, causing his hips to jut up, letting out another hiss of air.

Somewhere in the back, way back, of Felix's mind, he'd kick himself for not denying Sylvain's sly question and knowing expression.

Sylvain licked a broad stripe up the underside and hummed a little, delighting in the sounds he was drawing from Felix. He took the stuttered expletive as a yes and it only spurred him further, determined to make this good for Felix. Sylvain was never one to leave his partners wanting, and he wasn't about to start now.

He gripped Felix's balls firmly, massaging them together in his palm. "What do you want?" he purred against the crook of his Felix’s thigh, half-lidded honey eyes looking up into his partner's. "I'll do anything for you."

When Sylvain's hand went to his balls, Felix let out a groan from his gut. Automatically, he opened his legs, wider and without an ounce of shame for Sylvain. His hands, for some reason, went straight to Sylvain's thick hair. His fingers unintentionally splayed out as he dug his dull nails, massaging into his scalp.

"You said...you'd...mmm... fuck." 

It might have been better if unintelligible moaning was all that Felix could muster at the moment. Because when next he spoke, he did so without an ounce of self-fucking-preservation. He gripped at Sylvain's hair uncertain as to what was an acceptable tug or not, before meeting his gaze. His cheeks were flushed, the blush was well on its way extending down his neck to his chest. 

"I want you...to do...what you said. Ruin me."

"Mm. That, I can do," Sylvain murmured. He took Felix's balls into his mouth and suckled on them, one after the other. One hand stroked him firmly while the other traced his rim, pushing in ever-so-slightly to tease, to make it...well, if not special, then at least good for him.

Felix was going to regret his demand; of that, Sylvain was sure. 

"Bedside table. Lube," he ordered, reluctantly lifting his mouth from Felix's cock to issue the command before returning to his work. And then, muffled by the leaking head of Felix’s cock, he whispered, "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good."

Sylvain's mouth and its gentle warm suction was becoming a well-known sensation to Felix. When he added his taut sack and insistent finger into the equation, Felix's breath increased. His muscles contracted at the sensation, all too much and too little at the same time. No one would be more surprised than Felix when his first reaction was to grind down on the intrusive digit.

Felix let out a groan that was equal parts frustration and relief when Sylvain raised his head, pausing his actions to speak. It truly was a testament to Felix's ability to follow directions that he was even able to comprehend what Sylvain was referring to, much less comply with the demand. With some effort and not without a small noise of protest, Felix twisted his torso, reaching into the nightstand, feeling around blindly until he found his prize. He held the half-used bottle in front of him for a moment; it was a different brand, but something he was familiar with all the same.

Placing the bottle within Sylvain's reach, Felix was distracted enough in the moment, possessing the clarity to form coherent sentences. In a voice little more than a gravelly moan, he intoned around his bitten lip, "M-more than this?" 

Felix was proving to be an unusually responsive partner, and Sylvain immediately decided that he was here for it. He wiggled his finger against Felix's taut entrance, wondering whether he'd even experimented before. Secretly, he hoped not, hoped he would be the first to wring desperate moans from Felix as he spread his fingers deep inside.

God, he never got to be anyone's first.

Sylvain slathered his fingers in lube, absentmindedly sucking bruises into Felix's inner thigh all the while. 

"More than what?" he asked as he slipped his middle finger into his waiting partner, watching his face intently the entire time. Sylvain assumed this was his first time taking anything and was exceedingly gentle as he curled his finger up and forward, searching for the spot that would make Felix thoroughly come undone. 

Staring down at Sylvain between his thighs, latching on to his soft skin, turning it from milky white to dappled angry, burgundy rounds had Felix at the point of no return. The sight of him, one second longer, ravishing, marking, marring his otherwise untouched flesh…

Felix’s breath picked up. Each pant came breathier than the last. Each gasp was accompanied by a whine of his copilot’s name.

When Sylvain’s finger pressed against his entrance, Felix tensed up, his mind a blank. He had purchased his own container of lube for the sole purpose of attempting penetration; however, that had never come to pass. Yet, in this moment, when Sylvain’s long digit made contact, Felix froze.

With each slow movement, Felix was spread open further as Sylvain probed within his tight hole. Automatically, he moved his hips with what had to be the man’s practiced movements. Felix became hyper aware of his body--how his toes curled, how his dick throbbed, how tight his abs contracted with each stroke and stutter of Sylvain’s fingers. Yet, when Sylvain beckoned at a certain angle, everything went white. With no build up to speak of, every nerve alighted at once.

…Felix was certain that he made some sound. Now, what sound that was? He didn’t know.

Sylvain pressed his lips to the puckered hole and licked once, gently. He glanced up at Felix, questioning, to watch his reaction. And then he slipped his tongue inside and began to slowly lick, slowly adding one, then two fingers.

By this point, it had become increasingly apparent that Felix had never taken anything besides a finger or two before. Sylvain pressed his fingers in harder, deeper, and sucked more viciously than before. He wanted to make Felix come at least once before he fucked him; he had practically made it his mission in life at this point.

Many things happened all at once. Out of his own well-being or fucking sanity for all he knew, he had given up trying to watch Sylvain. Felix’s hips had begun canting upwards in earnest, yet somehow, Sylvain’s finger fingers and tongue followed uninterrupted.

It was all too much. The sensations of being stretched, his most inner parts stroked and licked…all of it. Felix came violently across his stomach.

Somehow, he had managed to ram his fist to his mouth in the instant, biting down and muffling the sound that escaped from his throat as he climaxed.

Sylvain whined a little in the back of his throat as Felix came hard, eyes locked on the other man's face the entire time. He hoped, wished, that Felix knew what he looked like when he came: brows tensed, eyes screwed shut, mouth open in a beautiful o-shaped pout. He could drink it in forever.

He swallowed hard and moved back to half-moan, "Can I fuck you?"

Bleary-eyed, dazed, and all-together blissed out, Felix laid back panting. Though, upon his question, he regarded the redhead, nodding groggily as he reached out for him.. 

“What are you waiting for?”

"Consent," he purred as he slicked up his cock, pressing it to Felix's entrance. He hesitated for a moment to kiss him, hard and dirty with generous tongue. He nibbled on Felix's lip as he wiggled his hips against him in an effort to prepare him further. He was throbbing, desperate now, but he wouldn't give in. Not just yet.

"Is this your first time taking a man?" he sighed against Felix's lips as he thrust forward, pushing just the head inside. "Have you ever fucked yourself before? What did you think about? Tell me everything.

When Sylvain leaned to kiss him, he reached out possessively, mouth yawning open wide to taste him. The bitter taste that was uniquely Felix tasted somehow less objectionable when coated on Sylvain’s tongue.

Feeling the head of Sylvain’s thick cock as he wiggled in place did nothing to calm the nerves he had as he ghosted his lips, soft words spoken while he pressed himself in. Felix’s eyes, already wide in apprehension, shot open. His hands reached out, finding purchase around Sylvain’s bulky shoulders, grip tightening, dimpling his flesh. Gasping, he tried to relax his muscles, yet somehow only managing to clench further, feeling every hard-fought inch. Felix let loose a stream of breathy gasps and grunts. He hissed out, “I…have. Only myself. Never. This is…holy fuck, Sylvain...”

Felix curled against the larger body above him. The words took a moment to speak, however it took a moment longer for them to register. Already flushed, the color on his cheeks began to double. As if forgetting there was a massive dick penetrating him for the moment, Felix’s eyes narrowed as he glared with little effect at Sylvain, digging his fingers into his muscles. 

“So what?”

Sylvain's breath caught as he pushed in, eyes wide as he reverently drank in the sight of Felix beneath him: defiant expression, narrow hips, a pretty blush painting his pretty face.

He pushed in slowly at first, gently, keeping a close concerned watch on the smaller man's expression for any sign of discomfort. 

"Fuck," he swore under his breath. And then: "Felix."

It had been too long since he'd slept with another man, and Sylvain had nearly forgotten about the white-hot pleasure of thrusting into a waiting body, the agreeable familiarity of firm muscles and a strong jaw.

He leaned down and sealed his mouth over Felix's, whining low against his lips.

The way that Sylvain looked at him, it was gentle. It was with concern. He felt seen and Felix didn’t know how to categorize it beyond that. Though, fortunately, or unfortunately , he would not have to linger on it.

Felix’s attention was taken in equal parts by the incredible penetrating pressure between his cheeks and the way that Sylvain said his name: a low curse followed by a lower-sounding prayer. He never thought his name could sound like that . Felix met the lips that sealed around his with renewed vigor, drinking in his deep whines.

By nature, Felix preferred to follow established plans. Following predetermined guidelines, utilizing experience to reach an expected goal. Though, when faced against something new, with no experience to speak of? Felix was ready and willing to improvise.

When Sylvain descended on him, Felix’s body responded on instinct. He curled his legs up, locking his ankles around his waist. Still not fully sheathed on Sylvain’s cock, this new position only served to unintentionally further seat him. Gasps and groans accompanied his movements as he flexed and tightened around Sylvain. 

Time ceased to exist as Sylvain bottomed out, hips pressed snugly to Felix's ass. He broke the kiss to stare wonderingly down at his partner, brows knitted as he brought his hand up to trace the sharp planes of Felix's cheek.

"What are you?" Sylvain whispered. "What are you doing to me?"

He began to roll his hips, slowly and experimentally at first, testing Felix's limits. After a moment, however, he half-expected the smaller man to snap that he wouldn't break, that he wasn't made of bird bones or some such nonsense, and began to move at a steady but unrelenting pace. He remembered the look on Felix's face when he'd fingered him earlier, the adorable little o of his mouth, and angled his thrusts upward with a wicked grin. He wanted to see it again.

Felix watched curiously as Sylvain spoke, stroking his freshly shaven face. Similar to Sylvain’s earlier motions, he turned into the large hand, capturing his calloused finger in his mouth. Caught in his gaze, Felix kept it as he tongued at the large digit, dragging his lips up its length.

His concentration was broken when the dull ramming force found a steady pace. Felix’s head went back, pressing into the mattress. Brows furrowed, his eyes clamped shut as Sylvain’s will pace be done.

After one particularly good thrust, Felix’s entire demeanor changed with a sharp gasp. 

“…there!” The movements of his hips were uncoordinated as he tried to recreate the sparking sensation. Nails gripping into Sylvain’s shoulders, Felix pleaded between the skin on skin metronome, “A-again, Syl--"

Felix's clumsiness was hopelessly endearing, and Sylvain couldn't help but indulge his request. He slid his hands down to grasp Felix's hips, calloused thumbs pressing bruises into the skin as he lifted him up, up. He bit down hard on his lip, teeth catching on the little cut Felix had opened earlier, and he moaned wantonly. 

His eyes, heavy-lidded and long-lashed, bore down into Felix's as he fucked him ruthlessly into the mattress, pulling the smaller man into his motions. The broken version of his own name, the little stutters and whimpers and gasps, were swiftly unraveling him, but he wasn't going to stop until he made good on his promise.

Any gentleness Felix might’ve seen before was gone now, forgotten as Sylvain pursued his goal. Felix’s legs went to jelly as he was moved up with ease. He had no doubt that the hard, firm grip on his hips would leave Sylvain-sized marks on his pale skin; the thought alone of the private bruises made Felix moan.

The force that Sylvain used as he fucked up into him, using his own body, felt as if he was going to fold him in half. The low thud of their skin morphed into indecent smacks, the sound of which went straight to his painfully hard cock. His vision began to blur as he was urgently led towards the equally obscured edge between pleasure and pain.

More …”

"Yeah?"

Sylvain found himself incapable of forming coherent words, so he did something quite out of the ordinary for him: he shut the fuck up. Instead, he busied himself with wrapping long thick fingers around Felix's throbbing cock, not stroking, just holding him firmly as he worked his hips into him. He hadn't expected Felix to be such a responsive partner and wondered if this was how he usually was, or if the other man had just been extraordinarily pent-up. He'd come on much stronger than Sylvain expected back in the mess hall and Jesus Christ, was Sylvain grateful for it.

He leaned down and sucked vicious bruises along the beautiful pale expanse of Felix's neck and chest, not giving a damn about visible marks this time. Not now, not when he was so close. A shudder ran through him and he reluctantly pulled out, only to slide his own aching erection alongside Felix's, grinding desperately against him.

"Fuck, fuck ," he panted, still gripping Felix's hip with his other hand.

Felix didn’t know what he meant by demanding ‘more,’ but the tight, firm grip to his cock provided was more than adequate. The grip headed off the building pressure he felt coiling in the pit of his stomach, quickly approaching what would assuredly be a ruinous end.

When he leaned forward, Felix extended the column of his neck, baring himself even further. He pawed at Sylvain, keeping his head close with weak arms, pressing into his insistent and insatiable mouth. 

When he sat up, Felix’s arms stood no chance crumpling to his sides as now whines of protest joined to the litany of sounds Sylvain had drawn out of him. Felix sharply keened at the sudden sensation of loss as Sylvain pulled out of him. Hips raised with a painfully arched back, and already a throbbing ghost sensation at the deepest part of him, and now, the feeling of Sylvain’s hand against both of their lengths, it was all too much.

Tears that had yet to fall slipped their confines as Felix came with a throaty rasp of the redhead’s name. 

"There we go," Sylvain groaned, flicking his tongue out to taste the tears now streaking Felix's flushed cheek. He sighed out a broken version of the other man's name as he followed him over the edge, coming hard across Felix's stomach and hips. After, he lay panting on top of the other man, his mind a comforting grey fog. And while the mess wasn't the most comfortable thing to be lying in, he couldn't bring himself to pull away, not until he'd admired his handiwork.

Felix looked wrecked. His hair was mussed, bangs slicked to the side with sweat, dark bruises already beginning to bloom like a perverse field of wildflowers across his neck and torso. Sylvain grinned. He knew taking Felix apart would be fun, but he didn't think it'd be this much fun.

"So? How'd I do?" he asked casually, grabbing a box of tissues and gently cleaning Felix off.

When Felix next opened his eyes, his vision came back to him clearer than ever. There was Sylvain, with a wily grin like the cat that ate the canary. And goddamnit if he wasn't all the more attractive for it.

Felix propped himself up again on his elbows, this time a bit more wobbly than the first. Listening to the question asked and watching the scene of this apparent aftercare, Felix was vaguely aware that perhaps he should be embarrassed or ashamed. Though, it was because of those things, the nonchalance that Sylvain moved and spoke and the ease that had led to this entire encounter that Felix couldn't bring himself to feel either of those. Any negative or self-deprecating reactions he would have would be false. So, he simply sat still as the rises and falls of his chest leveled out.

Turning his attention once more to the big red cat, he answered his question honestly. 

"I have nothing to compare it to." Leaning to one side, he raised an arm, idly dabbing a curious finger in a shot of come Sylvain had yet to reach. Bringing the finger up to his mouth, he sucked on it thoughtfully. Bitter, but in a way that was still different from his own spend. Catching his eye, Felix continued evenly, "Next time, I'll let you know." 

Sylvain found it remarkable how swiftly Felix snapped from blushing (former, apparently) virgin to predator. He swallowed hard, pretending in vain not to watch Felix suck at his own finger with a contemplative expression on his face.

Jesusfuckingchrist Felix you can't just say things like that, he thought desperately, reaching for the other man. He felt breathless, hyper aware of everything as he stretched out alongside Felix on the bed, placing three sweet little kisses on his left shoulder.

"Think we're compatible?" he asked, trying to steady the rapid thud of his heart.

Felix replaced his arm when Sylvain stretched alongside him. Eyes never leaving him, Felix arched a brow as they molded together, fitting as best they could on the modest bed. The kisses to his shoulder, that blatant show of tenderness surprised him. Though, if anyone was keeping track, what surprised him more was the pounding he felt at his side.

Before that, Felix addressed the man's question. This answer, of course, would bring them full circle from where they began in the mess hall before Sylvain kissed him, before Felix returned it, before they were laying skin to skin, spent in more ways than one...whatever this was. 

"I don't know. It was a tight fit." 

Even as he said it, he couldn't help the small upturn of his lips nor the faint blush that came with it. Whatever it was, Felix didn't hate it. Not even close.

Turning on his left side into Sylvain, he held out his palm against the man's pec. Quick, rhythmic pulses met his hand, confirming what he had felt to his side. Nearly sharing the same breath, Felix studied him for a moment. 

"We might be if you don't have a heart condition."

It took a second for the meaning of Felix's words to cut through the post-orgasmic haze in Sylvain's brain and he looked at him, wide-eyed, before breaking into a matching smile. 

"Sure was a tight fit, but I think we managed," he agreed with a little wink. 

But his composure faltered when he felt the palm press to his chest. Shit. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. His fucking pulse was betraying the fact that he had something resembling feelings, of some sort. For once. Time to make up a lie, but what? Sylvain found it was harder to stretch the truth when he wasn't even sure what the truth was.

"I think I'm mildly infatuated with you" was what came spilling out of his lips, followed by a sharp panicked laugh of disbelief at himself. In an attempt to salvage the moment, Sylvain tried again:

"You're a really excellent lay. You totally rocked my shit." 

Felix was amused that his rare attempt at humor had been well-received, his blush remaining a constant with Sylvain's response. The two were still well-within arm's reach of each other, as Felix's hand still rested against the wide chest housing the wild-beating heart. Yet, any levity had in the moment took a back seat to what was said next.

'I think I'm mildly infatuated with you.'

Followed by a bark of laughter.

Finished off by: 'You're a really excellent lay. You totally rocked my shit.'

For a moment, Felix had felt inclined to close the already close distance. He was glad he didn't.

For the first time in Sylvain's quarters, Felix's face fell into his slightly-perturbed neutral. Retracting his hand, he returned to the flat of his back, folding his hands over his still bare abdomen. Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered just how many people had been here, in this spot, looking up at the very same chrome bolts, getting the same three kisses, never to be repeated...that is, unless they rocked his shit. 

"Guess first time's the charm. I'm glad to have passed muster."

Sylvain resisted the urge to slap himself and reached again for Felix.

"I...have no fucking idea why I said those things. I'm just. Nervous? Usually people don't hang around after we, uh, you know."

Good god he was making it so much worse. He took a deep breath and prepared to roll over and show his soft white underbelly.

"I'm not used to feeling anything, like, at all, so I'm kind of freaking out right now. But hey, this is good, right? That there's a connection? Or maybe it's not, maybe it'll fuck up the Drift? And I don't even know what you expected, why you're here, so..."

Having a little gay emotional panic, Sylvain?  Miklan jeered from the back of his mind. 

Shut up, fuck off, shut up...  

He had to find a way to make the voice stop.

Sylvain leaned in and kissed Felix softly on the cheek and then lingered there, letting his chin rest against the other man's shoulder.

Feelings more bruised than he would admit, Felix was ready to snap back at Sylvain, forcibly ending whatever the fuck this charade had devolved into. Yet, when he first was presented with an opportunity, Sylvain spoke again before he had a chance to respond...and again...and again after that?

At some point, Felix ended up watching Sylvain. The way in which he was speaking, the constant double-speak was concerning to say the least. So was the look he donned and the manner in which he hesitantly hovered, remaining close, almost as if he expected to be swatted away. If he had thought it before, Sylvain had never looked more like a kicked puppy than he did right now. Whatever it was, it threw Felix off enough in the moment that his temper was more than tempered.

Felix leaned to the side, inclining his head against Sylvain's for a lingering moment; he wasn't going to leave after that. He righted his head and returned to studying the ceiling, answering what he wanted. 

"I'm here because you brought me. I'm still here because..." Felix wiggled, situating himself further into the mattress. "I'm comfortable."

Sylvain relaxed and brightened visibly at the sign of affection, then immediately wished he had a better poker face. So, he was hot for his copilot. So what? Pretty much everyone had fucked their Drifting partner a time or two, and Sylvain would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't looked at those harnesses once or twice with something other than a mission in mind.

Comfortable. It was an interesting choice of word, but Felix did indeed seem to be making himself at home. Sylvain wondered if he'd have to try to get him to leave, or if he'd even want to make him. He slipped an arm awkwardly under the smaller man, bundling him closer to his chest. 

"Well, I'm glad," he said, trying to set his world back onto its axis. "That you're here, I mean. And comfortable."

It was awkward at first when Sylvain slid his bulky arm under Felix without warning. But the stupid, dopey smile that changed his entire demeanor made whatever future crick in Felix's neck worth it. Not looking up, he spoke to his chest, "Yeah. Thanks."

He shifted uncomfortably, pliant as he had, or hadn't been in Sylvain's grasp. Curling into his wide chest, he was warm, finding space enough for himself next to...his partner. Shifting lower and closer, Felix maneuvered to have his neck in the crook of Sylvain's bulky arm. Now, he was at least getting comfortable.

Once settled, Felix craned his neck towards Sylvain. 

"Hey. Are you comfortable?" 

One word from Sylvain and he would leave; it would be on a better note than had Felix left earlier on his own angered accord.

Felix nested on Sylvain like a cat, and the mental image kept him from grimacing as he was shifted and poked and prodded about the mattress. When at last he was finished rearranging himself, their limbs entangled, Sylvain released a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. He shifted his arm just enough to better pillow Felix's head. He brushed off the tenderness of the gesture by justifying it as a strategic move: if his copilot had a fucked-up neck, both of them would suffer for it.

But the kitten-soft edge in Felix's voice, the actual care in it, damn near killed him. He curled himself around Felix and pressed his lips to his temple as he spoke. "Yeah, Fe, I'm just fine."

After a brief but not uncomfortable silence, Sylvain asked, "What was it like for you? The first time you Drifted." His thumb moved in slow circles over Felix's bicep, his heart beating slow and steady now. The threat had passed. The storm was over.

Felix didn't mention the extra movement that was Sylvain making room for the extension of his neck. He didn't say anything, but he noticed all the same. Likewise, he didn't resist when Sylvain pulled him in nor when his plush lips were pressed against his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the way Sylvain called to him. "Mm. Good then."

Existing in the large man's hold was something entirely pleasant. He was big, warm, all-encompassing. Right now, Felix felt protected; he felt safe and secure. The gentle circle patterns of his finger served to further ground him in the moment they shared. And he would need that grounding to answer the question posed.

Felix immediately tensed. The first time he Drifted was nothing he wanted to talk about, much less re-live. But...if they were going to try and be partners, they had to at least try and understand each other on some level...Felix just wished it wasn't this one.

Felix let the question stand before answering, "...it wasn't good." Tucking his head further down, he spoke to the small space between their bodies. 

"My first time scared me shitless and every time since then." He shook his head, giving his thoughts life. “I keep seeing ghosts. I know they aren't real, but they're there each time. And each time, I look more and more like them."

Sylvain's heart twisted at Felix's words, and he brought his other hand up to cradle the man's head to his shoulder, long fingers stroking through his hair. These were never happy stories, and like Tolstoy's unhappy families, they were all unique in their miseries. His own had been nothing short of traumatic, but he assumed that Felix already knew his surname and all the baggage that came with it. Or perhaps he was blissfully unaware, hence his willingness to lie here with a vat of acid in human form cuddled around him.

"Take your time," he murmured comfortingly. "You're right; the ghosts aren't real. They're not. And I'm not gonna let them get you, Fe. You won't become one of them. I won't let you be haunted."

He continued the small, repetitive movements of his hands, noticing that they seemed to be calming the other man down but failing to notice that he was repeating actions from his own life, long ago. 

Miklan. Their father had forced them into a rig together the day after Sylvain's thirteenth birthday. Miklan was seventeen and much larger, more experienced. There was no way in hell anyone would ever convince Sylvain that Margrave hadn't meant for something disastrous to happen, but there it was. Miklan never piloted again after that day and Sylvain never talked about it.

*

Felix hated many things: slow walkers, people that did gender reveals, cantaloupe. Lots of terrible things. But at the top of that list was pity--especially as it pertained to his brother and father. He hated the way people still to this day looked at him like he was pathetic, like somehow he would benefit from their apologies and idiotic, baseless words.

But Felix didn’t feel that here. When Sylvain made to pull him in, he was ready to push away. But when nothing of the sadness that he ‘ must’ feel or talks of valiant and righteous deaths came into play, Felix stopped and listened. It was instead, concern for him . All Sylvain did was offer reassurance. The physicality of the moment aside, that alone was something he never received before. Reassurance that he, himself, wouldn’t fall victim to the mental pitfalls and punji pits he had created.

With a small nod, Felix relaxed into everything that was Sylvain, his arms and his words. Rather than extend himself, he worked himself into a smaller space up against his larger partner, filling out the grooves in his body.

In between his calming ministrations, he asked, not as an afterthought, but with some hesitation. 

“Do you want to tell me yours?”

Much to Sylvain's surprise, Felix continued to burrow into him. By this time on an average night, Sylvain had typically gotten drunk, sobered up, had sex twice, and intentionally said the wrong name to his partner once.

There was something painfully domestic about the pair of them lying there, sharing breaths, trading secrets. Sylvain wrapped his fingers around Felix's arms and held him close, feeling the soft comforting puffs of air against his neck.

"Hey, Fe, y'know how most pilots don't even get near a Jaeger until they're, like, sixteen or so? At least?"

He paused, wondering which path to take. 

"I was thirteen. My father forced me up against a Cat 3. It was...bad."

Twisted-metal-pouring-blood-now-Miklan's-All-Right bad. Sylvain closed his eyes.

Felix rested his head easily in the crook of Sylvain’s neck. The comfort he felt against the other man in the moment was in direct opposition to how he felt the weeks leading up to this very moment. How could they have gone from such diametrically opposite poles to this? Some amalgamation that somehow made Felix--the individual--feel more whole. It flew in the face of all reason. But…there was something that tugged at him, towards Sylvain. Whatever it was, either Felix didn’t know or he didn’t want to define it. But he would bask in the shared space as he allowed.

Thirteen. Hmph. Such a thing was unheard of. And if it was? It would be the fucking most reckless idea Felix had ever heard.

When Sylvain stopped speaking, Felix waited for the other foot to drop. He waited…to no avail. He arched up, looking at Sylvain’s face, searching for some sign of a joke, as shitty as it was, or exaggeration. And he found none, only a solemn face.

An ill-defined feeling akin to bile in his esophagus rose in Felix. Anger, uncertainty, sadness, protectiveness . A cocktail of confusing but all-encompassing emotions swirled about. His stilted tone belied not one fraction of the ire that he felt. 

“Thirteen? That’s a death sentence," Felix choked out through gritted teeth. “Who was your second?” 

"My older brother," Sylvain responded simply. "But he hated me, and that hatred made us stronger, I guess. But also more reckless." 

He pondered for a moment how much to share, how much was too much. This was most certainly not pillow talk. He took a deep breath and though he desperately wanted to hide his face, he met Felix's gaze, his own eyes haunted voids.

"Our father started us fighting young, " he laughed softly, darkly, "so don't be too surprised. I was the favorite for some reason. Cuter, I guess. Clever. Cheeky. And Miklan hated me for it. So when my balls finally started to drop, the old bastard started making plans. There was a supposed Category 2 headed for our estate but he thought we were ready. He threw us into the fray."

He paused again and tried to catch his breath. The images were flashing before his eyes, clear as day: Ruined Sky marching into the cold, unforgiving sea. Miklan's sneer, his shock of red hair, his bestial roar as he charged at the kaiju. A shocking flash of red that painted Sylvain, Miklan, everything, everything, everything.

"It turned out to be a Cat 3," he whispered, voice hoarse and raw now. "Miklan was controlling the left arm. Again, I was the favored child, so I got to use my dominant hand. He lunged. He lost...his arm was gone and he was even more bitter. Is even more bitter," he corrected himself, and then fell silent. There was nothing more to say. 

Rising and falling with the calm rhythm of his chest, Felix remained silent as Sylvain spoke. Even at his first statement, Sylvain had lost him. His brother hated him? Such a concept had no tether to any reality Felix was familiar with. Though he was the black sheep, blatantly different from his elder brother, there was never anything but love between them. Jealousy and envy perhaps…but never hatred. Felix looked up, meeting Sylvain’s unfocused gaze. He couldn’t offer understanding, but he could offer his attention.

As he spoke, his words, his tone, even his breathing morphed into something helplessly bleak. Gone was the sly glint in his eyes, replaced with a dull far off glance. As he retold the unhappy story, with each passing word, Felix understood that Sylvain was no longer present with him. In the moment, he was thirteen again, at the malicious soul’s all right, facing his first Category Three encounter.

It was one horror after another. Felix’s heart twisted painfully. So easily had Sylvain switched their positions, now bearing the lion’s share of the emotional damage. Voices from his own past offered unhelpful comments. ‘Sorry, that sucks’; ‘You poor thing’; ‘Look at what you overcame.’ There wasn’t anything Felix could say. But there was something he could do.

“Sylvain.”

Not unkindly, Felix gripped at his jaw, lowering and recapturing his gaze. His thumb stroked along the defined jawline. He idly wondered how it was possible that his cheeks were somehow already shaded in with fine stubble from his shave the night before. Placing his hand again on his rapidly rising and falling chest, Felix spoke with a low urgency.

Hey. Come back to me.”

Wide brown eyes blinked rapidly as Felix held his face, speaking gently to him as though he were a frightened child. Sylvain's gaze slowly began to refocus and his partner's sharp features broke through the vicious tide of memories. He was above water again, and already the pain was beginning to fade into the distant past, where it belonged.

He reached out for Felix, holding his face in both hands, and kissed the tip of his nose with a tenderness that broke his own heart, just a little.

"I'm right here." His voice was uncertain. A pause, a breath. Then, more steadily: "I'm right here, Fe."

There he was.

Felix breathed out, the tension in his face lessening as Sylvain's eyes focused on him. The hands to his cheeks served to further that ease. The kiss to his nose, however, only served to confuse him. It was that jolt to his system that made him consider where they now found themselves. Their tangle of limbs and the sharing of their close personal space was new and just that, personal. But the memories they shared, the trauma, the pain that they showed each other, that felt intimate. The realization colored his face.

Unable to hold his soft look any longer, Felix dropped his gaze. "Good then," he mumbled. He spoke down in between the increasingly small space that separated them.

"Welcome back."

"Thank you," Sylvain said quietly, not specifying what he was thankful for. He mentally listed the reasons while he chewed his lip thoughtfully: For letting me dick you down. For letting me fall apart. He reluctantly pulled his gaze from Felix's face to dip his head, planting those same three little kisses on his bare, pale shoulder.

He sighed softly into Felix's hair, just holding him. Intimacy was uncomfortable. Sylvain didn't do intimacy, and yet here they were, sharing secrets. This was just supposed to be about sex! A test drive! his mind screamed at him. But maybe this was for the best--they'd learn about each other's baggage eventually, and it was better for Felix to find out now when he was relaxed and freshly-fucked than mid-Drift in the heat of battle.

"That was a lot, I know. Are you, uh. Are you okay?" He felt his own cheeks warm and realized that for the first time in years, he was actually blushing.

Why was Sylvain thanking him? There wasn't anything he had done that required a thanks. In that moment, and truly, every moment since they arrived in his quarters, Felix only ever reacted to him. His actions here were more of the same. It was just a natural reaction. That was it. Still not raising his head, Felix let Sylvain's words and lips pass over him without objection.

"I should be asking you that, shouldn't I?" Felix let out a dry huff, generously described as a chuckle, almost speaking more to himself than anything. "And it was a lot. But if that's what it is, I can handle 'a lot.' And now I know how to get you back."

A moment passed without comment. There was something building and Felix didn't know how to qualify it, deciding instead to turn from whatever it was for the time being. Tapping against Sylvain's warming skin, Felix murmured. "What are you thinking?"

Now I know how to get you back.

Felix's words were familiar, warm, all the things Sylvain had wanted but never had, never asked for out of fear that he'd be denied them. But now here they were, being offered. Sylvain desperately wanted to reach out his hand and take them, but… to him freely in the form of the most gorgeous human being he had ever seen.

"I mean, there's more than that, but what I told you is the only part that's really relevant right now. You can ask about the rest later, if you want."

Sylvain turned his head and mouthed at Felix's tapping finger, trying to capture it but missing hopelessly. He felt worn out from all the feelings and reminded himself why he typically never bothered with them.

And just like that, with a few words-none of which answered his question-Felix's thoughts were confirmed. That Cat three, Sylvain's first time in the Drift, both only the tip of the iceberg. So much lay behind that practiced smile, and Felix was beginning to see it.

Seeing the sluggish attempt brought Felix back to reality. Dull pressure still in the deepest part of him, lethargy was slowly sinking into his bones. The time, their actions just prior to the emotional turmoil of memories past...it was past time he got back to his own room. Even a wall away, they would be closer than they began the day.

Felix began to shift, leaning back to lift himself. "It's a lot. Later it is, though, if you want to tell me. You need rest now."

"I don't sleep, I wait," Sylvain deadpanned, then burst into earnest laughter. Impulsively, he nuzzled Felix's neck, feeling somehow lighter. He was exhausted, bone-tired, but he'd always felt that way. The difference was, now he had maybe something other than more endless fighting to look forward to when he woke.

"You better get outta here while you still can," he mumbled into the sharp line of Felix's jaw, reluctant to let go. "I don't think I could handle you again."

Felix rolled his eyes fondly at his bright laughter. Minutes prior, he very much doubted that Sylvain could conjure something so earnest and light. Hearing this, it was a welcomed change. Gloom and solemnity were out of place on the man's features. Though in the instant, Felix was equally relieved that his face was yet hidden as it colored when Sylvain nuzzled his neck. He barely suppressed the shiver that ran down his back as he rubbed at the sensitive expanse of skin.

Apparently compelled to not bring attention to his neck that may or may not be ticklish , Felix responded instantly. "Too bad. Guess I'll have to handle you next time."

As soon as the words left his mouth, their meaning rang loud and clear. Now his face colored as he immediately tried to disentangle himself from the big red barnacle.

Sylvain's eyes widened at the suggestive words and he grabbed at the smaller man, whining as he slipped out of his grasp. That adorable little flush was going to be the death of him; woe to both of them if Felix happened to blush while they were in combat.

He rolled over onto his back and stretched out temptingly, pouting his bottom lip and worrying it between pearly teeth. 

"You can't just say things like that to me, you know," he sighed, arching his back to pop it.

Up on his feet, Felix felt, well, like he was on even footing. Guess there was some logic to that saying... So much had happened in one evening. One evening had completely torn down and built anew the image Felix had created of his Drift partner. For the first time in a very long time, he felt hopeful.

He allowed himself a long look at the easy stretch of Sylvain's well-built physique. Bulky muscles that he would never be capable of, but suited perfectly to the specimen in front of him. The thought of how easy it would be to convince himself 'next time' could be now passed through his mind. Though, the throbbing at his back and the yawn that escaped him solidified that was an impossibility.

Spending a moment donning his crumpled attire, Felix decided, instead, to return to form; what had begun this all in the mess hall. He scoffed, patting Sylvain's cheek before leaning down. Lips next to his ear, he purred, "I won't just say them then."

Sylvain basked under Felix's heated stare, more than happy to be observed like a specimen under glass, to be admired. He responded in kind, eyes raking the other man's slim, long-legged form. Sylvain, like all pretty things, also liked pretty things. And Felix was most definitely a pretty thing.

The promise made him shiver, made him want to ask when? when? when?  like an eager child and he turned his head to capture Felix's bottom lip between his teeth before he could pull away.

"You are full of delightful surprises, Fe."

Felix relished in the sharp pressure that were Sylvain's teeth on his already swollen lip. He nipped at the man before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. It was a small thing, but it was the only kiss he had instigated on his own. It wasn't much, but it was something nonetheless; he wanted it and he got it. 

"And don't forget it."

As he stood up Felix spoke dryly, sleep at the edge of his voice. "Get some sleep. We have drills in the morning."

Sylvain smiled sleepily at the kiss--timid and fierce all at once, and made all the sweeter by the knowledge that Felix had chosen to kiss him first. 

That night, his sleep was deep and dreamless and he found himself well-rested enough to wake before dawn. He made his way down to the mess hall to grab a cup of bitter black coffee and as he sat alone at a long metal table, he marveled at the strange sense of calm he felt. It was so foreign that it made him feel slightly ill.

He wasn't used to being the first one awake but thought he might have to start. There was something soothing about having a moment of quiet just to himself before he was plunged into a long day of drills. At least Felix would be there.

Chapter 3: In The Drift

Summary:

He hummed a little song that he made up as he went, finding that once the threat of complete mental collapse was eliminated, Drifting was actually kind of enjoyable. Felix's mind had calmed down and in response, so had his own. Now, they were moving in sync, sharing breath, breathing life into the jaeger. Together.

"Think we can teach this old thing some tricks? It'd be cool to learn how to fist-bump."

*

Shifting his attention momentarily, Felix eyed the wall clock with the global kaiju counter. The clock showed 13:59. Felix stayed Sylvain's roving hand, getting his attention, instructing in a low voice, "When I get up, meet me in Adder."

Second shift.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When the morning came, Felix woke up ready to begin his regular routine. His gait shifted as he took his first steps toward the mirror and as he stripped, Felix wondered idly when the pressure behind him would subside. As he studied himself, he ran his fingers over the angry red and purple marks that dappled his otherwise pale skin. He took an especially light touch to the marks on the inside of his thighs; they conjured the image that had been Sylvain, spreading his legs wide and grinning devilishly after leaving the wet bruises. Felix shook his head, dislodging that particular memory...for now.

His sightseeing caused his routine to take slightly longer than usual, though it was still early when he entered the mess hall for his regular breakfast. Yet once there, his eyes went directly to a wide back with a shock of red hair. Felix got his standard helping of eggs and bacon with crumbly things that were generously referred to as "tortillas."

Tray in hand, Felix approached Sylvain and intoned, "Want company or no?"

Sylvain brightened at the familiar voice and pulled himself from his thoughts. Most of them had been about Felix, admittedly, though he was also trying to calm his nerves. It had been a while since they'd piloted together without incident and things were very different between them now. He let his gaze wander along the dark-haired man's neck and felt a pleased little jolt when he noticed the faint scarlet edge of a bruise peeking out near the hollow of Felix's throat.

"I'd love some company," he said, using the soft warm voice he reserved only for soothing himself. "Can't believe they're still trying to convince themselves that those are actually tortillas You sleep well?" 

Sylvain eyed one in disdain and took a careful sip of his coffee, managing not to grimace. It tasted like punishment, which was precisely what he needed to wake up in the morning. 

The tone of Sylvain's voice struck Felix as odd. It seemed out of place here in the mess hall, in their uniforms, when they weren't skin to skin...that was a useless observation in the moment. He didn't allow his thoughts to linger on it but took his seat opposite of Sylvain, nodding with a downturn of his lips. 

Felix moved the crumbly pieces to mix with the mess of grey scrambled eggs, crinkling bacon over the mixture in a vain yet valiant attempt to make it palatable. He spooned a bite before speaking.

"Mm. Shlept good. Pass'd a fuck ou'."

He swallowed, washing down the bite with water before raising a brow at Sylvain.

"What about you? You beat me here."

Sylvain snorted at Felix's graceless manner of eating. He seemed to approach nourishment the way he did everything else in life: as though it was an inconvenience, something to be gotten over with as soon as possible 

Except. Well.  

He darted his eyes around before shooting out to caress the underside of Felix's wrist with his fingertips, just once.

"Slept great, actually. Last night...it really helped, all of it. Thanks again, Felix."

Felix's fingers twitched upon his initial contact but he didn't retract his hand, instead allowing the large hand its gentle pass.

'Last night...it really helped, all of it. Thanks again, Felix.'

No longer Fe; he was Felix. That was last night and it had helped. All of it.

Being a good lay? Talking about his first time Drifting? All of it? The acrid taste it left in his mouth just posing the question was nothing that Felix wanted to investigate. It was too early and Felix was too tired to sort through whatever he meant. Luckily, he could rely on something he actually managed to glean from Sylvain's words.

He hummed noncommittally in response before leveling his gaze at Sylvain.

"You were having trouble sleeping before?" Though it was a question, he delivered it as a statement.

"Yeah. I'm glad I didn't look rough enough for you to notice, though," he laughed as he stretched back in his chair. Felix seemed...off somehow. Sylvain wasn't sure what was up, but he knew he needed to figure out and fix whatever it was before they went into the day's drills.

"Bee in your bonnet, Fe?" he asked casually, watching the other man from across the table with a curious, concerned expression.

It wasn't necessary to divulge exactly how much Felix had actually watched the man, but even then, he could only see what Sylvain was willing to show. And that was the truth of it. Felix got a taste of exactly that and more last night. He would take more care to notice all of it in the future.

Fe.  

His name, only said the way Sylvain could say it. Felix was unprepared for the relief and the sense of comfort the single syllable provided. If he had the forethought to identify why he felt this way, it was lost in the instant, as well as his perturbed look. 

"What? No. I'm..." 

His voice trailed off for a moment. Felix was a shit liar. He never had any aptitude for it, likely because he saw little reason to do so in the first place. And right now, he kinda wanted to lie.

Instead, Felix told him another truth. 

"I'm anxious for today."

People tended to assume Sylvain was unobservant, but they were wrong every time. He scanned Felix's features and determined that while he wasn't lying about being anxious for the day ahead, it maybe wasn't the entire truth, either.

"Come on, Fe," he said, using that gentle voice and the nickname again. He leaned over the table, shoulders hunched, and took Felix's hand in both of his own. His thumbs rubbed comforting circles into the back of Felix's palm and he hummed softly.

"You're a great fighter, so there's no reason to be anxious about the drills," Sylvain began, keeping his voice low. "Are you feeling weird because of last night?"

Felix's eyes went straight to Sylvain's own when his hand was not so much grabbed, but held. All Felix saw was tenderness and sincerity in the man's big doe eyes. The realization of which caused a sharp, emotional pang; Felix's heart twinged uncomfortably. When he answered, his voice was heavy to his own ears.

"I am. And so are you. Together though, we are less than adequate. Do you think last night...helped that?" After a moment, Felix added reproachfully, genuinely asking, "Should I feel weird? Do you?"

The words rang true: They could both hold their own in a fight, but the few times they'd tried to work together they'd been hopelessly out of sync. Sylvain wondered for a moment whether the sex would change that and if somehow the military had planned for all of this to happen, right down to the copilot mismatch, but he honestly didn't give a damn what the reason was. Then he took a breath and did another thing out of character for him: He spoke the truth.

"I'm not going to tell you how you should feel, but I'll tell you how I feel." 

Sylvain leaned a little closer, raised Felix's hand to his mouth. Soft lips, still slightly puffy from kisses hours before, brushed over hardened fighter's knuckles as he spoke.

"I, for one, am glad it happened. And I'd very much like for it to happen again."

When Sylvain spoke of sharing his own feelings, the ones locked away behind his easy smile, Felix leaned forward. It was a miscalculation on his part regarding how such an admission or his unexpected lips would affect him. When his cheeks warmed, Felix turned his head sharply away from Sylvain. What was he trying to do here? Felix had no answers and two red cheeks.

Before stealing back his hand, still looking off to the side, Felix gave Sylvain's large hand a squeeze, nodding curtly.

"At least we agree on something."

Though he kept his hand close to Sylvain's, Felix immediately turned his attention back to his food and devoured several bites in quick succession.

With a playful roll of his eyes and a quirk of his lips, Sylvain released Felix's hand. He wondered if the man had any taste buds at all; Sylvain himself hadn't touched the breakfast offerings here since his first week, which had been an awful mistake. He'd made up for it by ingratiating himself to the kitchen staff through various methods, and they were always more than happy to feed him when he inevitably turned up at odd hours of the day and night, begging for scraps like a mangy yet adorable stray. Or at least, he hoped he was correct on the adorable part.

"All business, I see. Damn, Fe, I never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking fork, but here we are."

Sylvain absently drummed his fingers against the scuffed metal table and jiggled his leg as he pondered what the day might hold for them. Another compatibility test or sixteen, probably. And then maybe, maybe they'd earn some time in the simulator, if they did well enough. No pressure, though, he thought to himself. 

He added his left thumb to the mixture, trying to find an outlet for his sudden nervous energy. Maybe the coffee had been a mistake, but he couldn't un-ring that particular bell. The frantic movement of his knee sped up and he glanced at his watch. 

"We should probably get going soon. For once, I actually don't want to be late."

Felix watched Sylvain; it was becoming something of a habit for him. He saw the flow of nervous, potential energy get diverted into the rhythmic drum of his fingers followed by the bounce of his leg. Unless his coffee had kicked in in a major fucking way, Felix wasn't the only one who was anxious about what they were going to be tested with.

Regardless, it was coming. They had jobs to do and whether they were ready or not, whether the flare in his heart was real or even realistic, it was coming.

Felix nodded, forking the remnants of his sad breakfast into his waiting mouth. 

“Good call. This isn’t getting any better. We can go.”

Sylvain nodded and grabbed Felix's tray for him, glad to have something to do with himself. He waved good morning at a few random people who greeted him on the way, though he'd be damned if he could remember a single one's name. Only when he was next to Felix once more did Sylvain begin to relax. Returning to Felix's side felt like slipping under the safe cover of night, he mused as he linked their arms together and began to lead the way down the corridor.

"I'm gonna be honest, Fe, I'm kind of freaking out a little," he admitted, covering it with a cheery smile so that anyone who passed by wouldn't suspect a thing. Hiding in plain sight was one of Sylvain's many considerable talents. He gripped the shorter man's arm, fingers kneading at the bone. 

When they reached the imposing metal doors, Sylvain twisted his mouth to one side, brows knitted in worry.

"Please tell me I'm not gonna fuck this up too bad."

With their entwined arms, they were off. Felix wondered if it hurt Sylvain's back to bend to facilitate their matched strides. But the concern was quickly forgotten when Sylvain again opened up, digging his fingers in pleasantly into the meat of his arm.

Only when they arrived at the giant threshold did Felix see the twisted worry on his face, matching that of the worry heard in his last statement. Not taking care to hide his actions, Felix rounded on Sylvain, standing squarely in front of him wearing a stern face. 

"Hey. It's you and me. What happens, happens." Felix stared up at his soft brown eyes, unflinchingly. "If you start to feel like you're losing the connection, focus on me. If I start to get lost in the Drift, I need you to be there to guide me back."

Turning back towards the metal entryway, he added, with a squeeze, "If we fuck up, we fuck up. It takes two and it's on both of us, fuck up-or not. You're not alone here."

Another thing Sylvain had always been good at was doing things for other people instead of himself. Being strong for another, whether physically or emotionally, was nothing he hadn't been doing since birth. He could hold Felix up, could pull him back from wherever he wandered off to.

The returned squeeze bolstered his confidence and Sylvain carried the high with him as they strapped into their harnesses. He tried to quell the last of his nerves; he wasn't afraid of where he might go, but rather that Felix would get dragged down with him and be lost forever.

"I won't let you stray too far from God's light, Fe," he reassured his partner with a wink. "I go to dark places so often, I have frequent flier miles. I got you."

Sylvain’s stupid, cheesy wink was the last thing Felix saw before he whited out into the void of the Drift. As always, memories, vignettes of days past flashed through his mind’s eye. Stills of his parents, of Glenn, each more nostalgic than the last and they all threatened to tear his attention. But Felix focused; he had no choice. He realized with an alarming jolt that it was because for the first time, it felt like something was at stake.

Mind kept empty, he focused on reaching out toward that stupid wink. But this time, he had confidence he would reach back out.

Felix was fading, falling fast. Sylvain could tell because he'd gone down the rabbit hole so many times before himself. He gritted his teeth, flexed his right arm within the gauntlet, and prepared to mentally drag his partner back before they both went under.

"Come back to me, Alice," he muttered as he fought to wade through the swamp of Felix's memories. It was distracting, to say the least--images of people who looked exactly like Felix, but just different enough for it to be uncanny. Sylvain got the feeling that none of them were alive anymore, that he was looking at Felix's ghosts.

"Fe, " he growled under his breath. The mental strain of supporting them both in the Drift was enormous and Sylvain felt himself beginning to falter. But he couldn't fail, not now. "Get your ass back here, now. "

*

Follow me, follow me! Down the Rabbit Hole, Fe!!

Felix saw himself at the edge of a putting green holding a flag, he looked so happy here. And then here, Felix sat with intense concentration building the scale model of his jaeger, Shield Bearer….

But wait…didn’t Felix hate golf?

Wasn’t his jaeger…

‘Fe.’

All at once, in the deluge of nostalgia that was threatening to consume him, Sylvain’s voice broke through the static. With a heaving gasp, Felix was back.

Immediately, he reached with his left, engaging the giant mech’s arm. Flexing his fist, the sound of pistons and alloyed gears came clanging into existence as Felix willed them move in dexterous patterns. 

“Sylvain. I’m here. You got me.”

"Good, you're back. Now focus. If anyone's going to fuck this up, it's gonna be me."

Sylvain's brow furrowed in concentration as he flexed his fingers, engaging the machine's right arm. His mind was exhausted and his body physically ached from holding both of them aloft in the Drift. He held Cosmic Adder's arm out before them, focused intently on the grid of blue light tracing over his own hand. The thin plating of the gauntlet looked so pretty in this light...

*

It is four days after his thirteenth birthday and Sylvain's father has just informed him that he is to join his older brother on a mission to fight a Category 2. Their mother hasn't even bothered to protest. Sylvain sits wide-eyed, scared shitless as Miklan hovers behind their father wearing an ugly smirk.

The sea rushes in and he chokes on it. Briny air replaces his entire world and reality comes in fits and starts. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to hold his breath but can't help drawing in a gasping lungful of water. And then another. And then another.

At this point, Felix took a passive role in the Drift. He hovered at the perimeters of the scene, only intruding to get a better look at what had to be a younger, too young thirteen-year-old Sylvain. A shock of messy red hair. A gangly boy, all limbs still in the throes of adolescence.

“Sylvain.”

Leering at him, Felix felt the malicious gaze of his elder brother boring holes into the boy. Even as a mere bystander, Felix felt choked by the oppressive environment.

And then the tide came in.

Quickly.

Reaching out to him, as he had done the night before. Clenching and unclenching his left, Felix strained to make the connection with his right. 

More direct now. 

*

“Sylvain. Breathe. Come back to me.” 

Felix's voice echoed eerily through the endless hallways of Sylvain's memory. He was floating, flailing, and the worst part was that through it all, he somehow retained the presence of mind to hate himself for being so weak.

He hadn't gotten lost in a Drift in ages. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't have told Felix anything, if maybe he'd said too much and woken up his own ghosts.

There was a ferocious, insistent tugging from his left and he blinked hard enough that he saw little pinpricks of black and white. The machine's left arm swung over, and Sylvain managed to raise the right hand just in time to catch it in a clumsily clang of metal on metal. Not the slick high-five he was hoping for, but a vast improvement over the alternative.

"I'm back, Fe," he murmured, turning his head to look at his copilot.

The scrapes on the metallic surface of Cosmic Adder’s arms could be buffed out. For as clumsy as the move was and for how much of a perfectionist he was, Felix couldn’t care less about either. Instead, his vision was trained intensely to his right.

Upon hearing his voice, seeing his eyes refocus on Felix’s own, his rigid posture went slack in his harness to his usual stationary stance. Letting go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Felix gave a curt nod to his co-pilot. When he spoke again, his voice relieved in an echo of the night before.

“Welcome back.”

Felix rolled his shoulders attempting to shake the tension of nearly two instant losses to the Drift. As he flexed his hand, the machine's own hand effortlessly mirrored the movement.

“All right. Let’s go.”

"At least we got that out of the way early...not the kind of TKO I was hoping for," Sylvain snickered. He gave Felix a playful grin and exhaled, relaxing into the rhythm of moving Cosmic Adder along. The old Mark-2 had probably seen better days, but Sylvain was grateful for it--it'd be lunacy to put a shiny new model in the hands of two inexperienced cadets, let alone two who'd damn near lost themselves before they'd even begun.

He hummed a little song that he made up as he went, finding that once the threat of complete mental collapse was eliminated, Drifting was actually kind of enjoyable. Felix's mind had calmed down and in response, so had his own. Now, they were moving in sync, sharing breath, breathing life into the jaeger. Together.

"Think we can teach this old thing some tricks? It'd be cool to learn how to fist-bump."

There he was.

Felix scoffed, shaking his head at his playful co-pilot. It was good they had gotten it out of the way so early on. Like with construction, to have a proper base, any remnants of an existing structure needed to be torn down, reduced to nothing but its most foundational pieces. It seemed to be the same here. Stripped away, they could build themselves up. Felix understood for the first time how his brother and father seemed happy while Drifting.

Together in the Drift with Sylvain at his side moving in sync with a hum that seemed to resonate with him, two parts of an incomplete whole...he could see the appeal.

Felix further eased into this newfound shared clarity the only way he could. He gave Sylvain a sharp grin before turning his attention to the (now) incredibly smooth functions of their second generation jaeger.

"It only needs to keep up. And I'm only fist bumping if it ends with blowing it up." As he spoke, the large iron fist unfurled in front of their view dock falling back to their left, controlled.

Sylvain tried to picture Felix fist bumping anything, let alone blowing it up at the end, and cackled at the mental image. He forced himself to concentrate, to regulate his emotions. Any spike, even a positive one, could destabilize the Drift, and they were doing remarkably well.

Which is precisely what their instructor told them when the buzzer sounded and Sylvain was unhooking himself from the harness in a dreamlike haze. Now firmly back in reality, he allowed himself to beam fondly at Felix and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"Hey, pretty good, right?" His relief was palpable.

Felix nodded along to their instructor’s review. He was right, of course. Any imbalance whether positive or negative was still an imbalance. But for the first time, Felix was relishing this flawed outcome. Flawed but still a success, leaps and bounds from where they were previously.

Legs still a bit unsteady after their locked harnesses, the large hand at his shoulder caught Felix by surprise as he stumbled forward a bit. Seeing Sylvain’s megawatt smile directed not only at him, but at their successful work was a welcomed sign.

“Pretty damn good,” he agreed. “Even with you laughing like a mad man. Do I even want to know?” Felix eyed the tall man coyly.

Sylvain's grin shifted into something sly as he gazed down at Felix. 

"Just you," he said, his hand lingering on the other man's shoulder. For a bunch of pilots, their classmates were shockingly unobservant; he massaged his fingertips into the little separation between Felix's shoulder and collarbone, confident that absolutely no one was paying attention. Then again, Sylvain had long suspected that the others were slightly afraid of Felix.

"Thanks for pulling me back again," he added softly. "Would've been a helluva mess if you hadn't."

‘Just you.'

Felix leaned ever so slightly into the kneading pressure, body reacting before brain. It was uncanny how accurate the man’s touch was; with no needed readjustments or fumbling, his fingers found the juncture, kneading into the tense muscle. He let out a quiet groan at the sensation and felt his face, normally tight, go slack for just a moment.

Catching and righting himself, he leveled a scowl at a passing cadet who turned and quickly scrambled away. Felix’s features rounded out at Sylvain’s soft voice.

“It would have been, but there’s no need to thank me. It’s nothing you didn’t just do for me. I almost fucked us up from the start.”

Sylvain glanced around the room with an easy self-assured smile, not terribly annoyed that they'd been disturbed. While Felix was making a valiant effort to radiate his usual spiky "don't fuck with me" energy, there didn't seem to be quite as much heart in it as usual.

"Well, we're even now," he said mildly as he leaned back against a high work table, then gave a little hop and hefted himself up. After taking a moment to survey the room from his new vantage point, he extended a hand to Felix. "Come on up, see how the other half lives."

Felix took the offered hand and balanced himself with the other as he hopped up on the worktable. He situated himself just outside of shoulder and hip distance from Sylvain, feeling slightly off-kilter; the other man was proving to be something of a wild card indeed, and Felix was used to having a plan.

He distracted himself from his increasingly distressing thoughts by surveying his surroundings. It was odd, but the view was different from up here. Not only from the obvious fact that this was nearly a foot over what Felix’s eye level would usually be (How’s the weather up there? Well, warmer, if you must know), but for the fact that they had passed. With damn-near flying colors. For once, they were the first pairing that had successfully Drifted. They were no longer put in the back of the queue as they had to wait their turn to try the Drift again or be stuck in remedial exercises for the rest of the day.

Felix leaned back on one hand, reclining slightly as he looked around at the other cadets. He saw how some of them stood close…some closer than others. He glanced over at Sylvain’s easy, relaxed countenance.

“This isn’t so bad.”

Felix let his gaze linger for a moment before scanning out over the muted bustle that was the jaeger hangar.

“Since we don’t have damage reports to write up, I honestly don’t know what comes next.”

Free time? What the fuck was that?

"Huh. Yeah, I think this is probably the first time I haven't gotten in trouble, now that I think of it." Sylvain was more than used to extra work, whether in the form of repairs (when he behaved badly) or remedial lessons (which he usually didn't need, anyway).

He wrapped an arm around his knee and pulled it to his chest, thinking. The adrenaline high had already begun to fade, and the more time passed, the more the nervous energy from the other waiting cadets faded as well.

He raked both hands through his hair, pushing the unruly mop away from his face, and dropped his cheek to rest on his knee as he studied Felix intently.

"Fe, did you wanna be a pilot when you were little?" he asked impulsively. "Because of your dad and brother, I mean. Or what did you want to be, when you grew up?"

The first question was odd, but not unheard of. But it was his subsequent statement that threw the wrench in the calm that was settling into Felix. He visibly tensed up, retracting his arm, sitting up straight. He curled in on himself, bringing up and crossing his legs, no longer dangling off the table. The ancient instinct to shelter, to *protect* himself had taken over without him even realizing it.

With his elbows pressed to the inside of his thighs, Felix laced his hands together before answering.

“I did want to be a pilot. First because of them, and then in spite of them.”

The bitter tone in his voice came as no shock to him. What did throw him were the images that came to mind. The memories he had just relived in the Drift. What shocked him even more was the sudden stinging in his eyes.

Not looking at Sylvain, but addressing him all the same, Felix posed the same question.

“You? Or…did you really have a choice?”

The things he had shared last night were one thing, but there was a certain reputation about the grand house that belonged to the Gautier family.

"Not really, no."

Sylvain cut his eyes at Felix but did not turn his head, opting instead to pull his bottom lip into his mouth as he pondered what to say next. They already knew a little about each other and had shared in a way far more intimate than words: through the Drift, experiencing each other's memories. 

But once again, Sylvain knew better than to overwhelm him with details. He was raised to hold his tongue, to make up clever half-truths about his injuries, to pretend things weren't happening.

"My other option was basically to become a stud horse. I'm sure you know all about the Gautier family legacy."

A dark, dry laugh.

"I mean, that's what they want to happen eventually, anyway, once I get too old or too worn out to be a pilot anymore. Maybe before then. Miklan would've been the one responsible for making sure there were enough descendants to make more pilots, but now no one wants him. You know, because of the whole 'missing arm' thing."

While he was relieved that the attention was off himself, what followed was still concerning. Felix turned his head ensuring that indeed, the dark sardonic laugh had come from Sylvain because of course it had.

And yeah, everyone knew about the bullshit family legacies; even his own family wasn't immune to collecting one or two. Luckily, they died with the last true Fraldarius men.

When next he went to speak, Felix had to be careful how he proceeded. Everything he knew about the Gautier family came from one of three sources. Common knowledge--stupid family shit again, things that Sylvain had shared in a soft voice the night before, and what Felix, himself, had seen, had felt . What Felix had seen in the Drift, though only a snippet, filled in still more of a story that he was increasingly sure he would not like. He understood that, whatever it was with his family, with Miklan, it wasn’t simple and it wasn’t good. But figuring out how to delicately present all of that? That was the issue.

Felix wasn’t delicate.

With all the finesse of an unattuned Mach-1 still in Alpha Phase, Felix spat back, "I don’t have the time or patience to explain to someone that that’s not how genetics even work. At all. "

He was just ramping up now. Felix continued with disdain, "I’m sure Miklan wasn’t ushering in pussy before that.”

Looking away petulantly, he stuck out his lip, annoyed. “So anyone that blames it on the arm is fucking stupid. Same as stupid legacies for old men. It's pathetic. They should be kissing the ground you walk on--thrilled you're as good of a pilot as you are and still wish to be a Gautier."

There we go. Delicate..

"What makes you say that? About Miklan, I mean." 

Of course the comment about sex was what drew Sylvain's attention first, but it was as much a distraction as it was ingrained behavior.

"Do you mean to say that I'm prettier than him, Fe? Now that you've seen him and all."

Pretty. It was a word that danced just on the edge of a minefield for Sylvain. He batted his lashes while he batted the memories away.

Really?  Pretty. Sylvain wanted to know if he thought he was pretty.

That was his takeaway? Really.

Felix turned his head, cocked to the side regarding Sylvain with narrowed eyes.

"You have a mirror, don't you?"

The choice to leave was a pretty attractive option. He was boiling this down to something that... fucking pretty?  Who cared about that? It wasn't what he looked like but...maybe Felix should just leave. This was clearly something he was out of his league on...yet the idea of leaving such a thing unanswered didn't sit right with Felix. Thinking better of it, but saying it anyway, Felix tried to find the words.

"I know he's your brother and I'm no fucking peach, but...in the Drift, there, I just felt... gross . And I was just there." Felix looked down as if he could somehow pull the words he wanted with his own hands. "It wasn't a good feeling and that's never been something I've felt before. Definitely not with you."

Quieter now: "That's why I said what I said. It's got nothing to do with how either of you look."

"...Oh."

It was all Sylvain could think of to say in the moment. He reached for Felix's hand and took it gently in his own, closing his eyes and leaning in as he spoke softly. It felt as though he was about to tell a secret, and perhaps he was.

"No one's ever said that to me before, Fe. Not that I can remember."

Miklan made Felix feel gross and if he'd felt even a fraction of the pure revulsion Sylvain had felt every day while he was growing up, it was still too much. Sylvain's heart ached for him and, for the first time, his younger self.

Then quietly, tentatively as a lone fawn in the woods: "What did you feel with me?"

Bolder, now: "What do you feel? Right now?" 

Head down, his eyes traveled from his held hand up to the very-much-closer Sylvain. Suddenly, Felix found it increasingly difficult to breathe. He swallowed thickly through a painfully dry throat, eyes trained on Sylvain's. He didn't know what was happening. He didn't know what the right thing to say was. So, he just spoke.

In a voice Felix barely recognized as his own, so soft to his own ears.

"I told you. Comfortable." So close together, a new heady haze fell over his senses. "And now, I feel warm...and dizzy."

His eyelashes fluttered to a lidded gaze. "What are you doing to me?" 

The warmth in Felix's voice, almost kitten-soft and so very near, took Sylvain off-guard. He tightened his grip on Felix's hand, lacing their fingers together as he leaned even close to close the remaining gap between them.

"Dizzy in a good way, I hope."

Sylvain leaned over to rest his free hand casually on Felix's knee and acted as though nothing was amiss.

What are you doing to me?  

The question, the low helpless tone, those eyes sent a sharp stab through Sylvain's core. He bit his lip, hard, and swallowed harder before answering.

"I'm not sure about that, but I'm pretty sure you're doing the same thing to me."

Same. Equal. He could do same.

Felix nodded absentmindedly. Vaguely aware that there were few people in their vicinity, he couldn't summon the necessary energy to care. All that he was concerned with was Sylvain: the long fingers that wove through his own; the soft grip on his knee; his deep, resonant voice; his bitten, swollen lip.

Turning to him, Felix reached for his face, thumbing his lip at the flat impressions of his teeth underscored by a small red line he had made only hours earlier.

"You're going to open it again."

"God, I hope so," Sylvain breathed, pouting his lips around the tip of Felix's slender thumb. "It's a nice reminder of...what was more than a good time. I wouldn't mind having it forever." 

His grip tightened with a subtle twitch of his hand, fingers splaying to press into the inside of Felix's thigh. He knew there were still people around, but most of them were still stressed and preoccupied about their own drills. The rest were familiar with this kind of behavior from him, and if they noticed that his partner was Felix, well, they were a little too scared of Felix to say anything. Also, it wasn't uncommon for pilots to pair off, given the inherent intimacy of the Drift.

The blossoming bruises on Felix's skin caught his attention and he tried to catch his breath, to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. To drag him off somewhere and leave more. Hell, to do it right here, if Felix would let him.

But resist he did, though his hand began to creep steadily upward, seemingly of its own accord.

Four words and two lips sent a charge through him; Felix's lips turned upwards at the corner. He withdrew his hand only to bring his thumb tip to his own mouth. As he tasted it, that warmth still lingered.

"Yeah, it's a good reminder."

Reacting off Sylvain, when his fingers splayed and traveled upwards, he lowered his leg, loosening the tight crisscross. Keeping his held leg close, he draped the other back over the edge of the sturdy high tabletop. The boldness of his actions, the absolute disregard for all propriety, the undefined magnetism...it was freeing and it was mutual.

The corner of Sylvain's lip lifted in a wolfish grin, one sharp canine digging deeper into the cut. He released Felix's hand to place it on his hip, thumb caressing the sharp bone, wrist rucking the fabric up. He was surprised by the other man's boldness but absolutely, without a doubt did not mind. 

"Say when." 

The words were a throaty purr, which he had quickly come to learn always, always seemed to get the other man going. His fingers walked up the slender torso, wiry with unexpected muscle, traveling inward to dance around his navel. Sylvain wasn't sure just how far he'd be able to take this, but he'd always been one for pushing limits and was aiming to find out.

Where they were, their position, the teasing, curious hand on his skin, that fucking voice ...it was as if Felix was having an out of body experience. The reality of their circumstances and surroundings had never felt more inconsequential than they did in this moment. Felix was focused entirely on the man focused on him.

Never had he felt so singled out, so seen . Sylvain's gaze, smirk, hands, words, and lips, he chose to direct them all towards Felix with intensity for no other reason than the fact he was him. He leaned back incrementally with a nod. 

"I haven't said shit."

Perhaps the nervous bite of his lip that followed took away from the allure. Perhaps not.

It was true; he hadn't said shit. Sylvain had been the one to assume that Felix would be some sort of resistant shrinking violet, but he was turning out to be quite the opposite. Had Sylvain turned him out, or had Felix always been this way? He'd probably never know.

"I wonder..." he murmured. 

The nervousness behind that lip bite contrasted deliciously with the heat behind his words, Sylvain mused as he shifted slightly to press his leg between Felix's thighs. His hands were busy roaming openly, freely over his body now, one hand settling on the small of Felix's back to hold him in place as he applied gentle pressure with his thigh.

It was so similar to the little game of chicken Felix had initiated the previous day, though this time the stakes felt higher, the whole thing turned up to "11." He eyed the pale expanse of Felix's neck longingly but held himself back; there would be plenty of time for that later. 

The hand keeping him steady at the small of his back along with the thigh spreading his legs... that was something new. When Sylvain pushed closer to him, Felix found that with a small roll of his hips, that pleasant pressure was amplified. As his breathing became heavier, he did spare a thought to exactly how loud he could be, which, he still had blood flow to the brain to advise him that the answer was: not.

...at least not right here.

Shifting his attention momentarily, Felix eyed the wall clock with the global kaiju counter. The clock showed 13:59. Felix stayed Sylvain's roving hand, getting his attention, instructing in a low voice, "When I get up, meet me in Adder."

Second shift.

Notes:

https://youtu.be/P5LjFkibA7w

Chapter 4: Second Shift

Summary:

"Sylvain?"

"Felix?" Sylvain replied in a gentle tone with a smile on his face. He looked down at his own arms for a moment, then back up at Felix with his best come hither look. "Last night, I believe you said something about wanting to handle me next time. It's next time, and I'm ready to be handled, if you're still interested..."

Chapter Text

As soon as the digits flipped to : 00 , Felix slid around Sylvain's muscular thigh and off the table in one fluid motion. As he walked, hordes of cadets and mechanics milled around him as they left the boarding tower and jaeger portion of the hangar. Like salmon in the springtime, the two walked against the stream of people carrying out their regular schedule. He trusted his tall co-pilot to not get lost, to keep track of him through the sea of muted uniforms.

Being small had its advantages. Felix was able to move quite unhindered in large, near unnavigable crowds. As such, he was able to weave his way, turning back hidden by the transformers that powered the rigs, finally coming to the walkways at the back that linked the jaegers suitable for deployment.

And there she was: Cosmic Adder.

Felix crossed the walkway to their cockpit. Once inside, all he had to do was wait for his co-pilot.

*

Sylvain exhaled slow and controlled through his nose as Felix slid out from under him. His copilot was proving to be an exceptionally brutal exercise in delayed gratification, but he found he liked it, liked the way Felix teased him, made him wait for it in a way that no one ever had. He suspected that no one who came after ever would.

When it was time, he made his way to Adder and slipped inside. He had a pretty good idea of where this was going, he didn't mind the change of scenery; after all, it was their fucking jaeger. A sudden brilliant perverse wonderful idea entered his mind, and Sylvain leaned back into the harness on his side of the cockpit. He looked at Felix heatedly, expectantly, and slowly swept his tongue over his bottom lip.

Felix liked Sylvain's eyes. At ease, they were round, soft, doe-like. When there was something he wanted, when he had a target, they sharpened like a hunter's. And in that moment, when Felix approached Sylvain, locked in his harness with hungry eyes, he approached another hunter. He reached up and grabbed at the material of Sylvain's uniform, yanking him down in a fevered kiss. Not being delicate and thinking only of drawing every delicious reaction he could from Sylvain, Felix bit at the redhead's lip with purpose. Sure enough, the supple new skin that had only just closed the original wound opened, releasing a trickle of blood into his mouth.

With an appreciative snarl, he balled fists, scrubbing for purchase against the rough texture of their standard uniform.  Felix moaned low in his throat as he fixed his mouth around the tender flesh to suckle at the slow flow of the iron taste that he now associated with Sylvain.

While Sylvain never been one for pain, Felix's moans were swiftly conditioning him to enjoy it and he pouted his lip a little more, pushing it further into the other's mouth. The way Felix was going at him wasn't a surprise; from the moment he'd first laid eyes on him, Sylvain had assumed (fantasized) that he was rough in bed, and he was pleased to find that he'd been right.  Slowly, surreptitiously, he slipped his arms down into the harness and flexed his fingertips, smirking a little as the jaeger's protective AI locked him into place.

Felix was so preoccupied with sticking his tongue down Sylvain's throat that he didn't recognize the familiar movements of his co-pilot. Perhaps it was because they were movements that he had seen countless times, while the experiences at hand, at his hands, were brand-new. When he had enough presence to resurface for air, pupils blown wide, he stood back to take in the sight that was Sylvain helpless, partially bound in his harness. His eyes darted from the braces, to his arms, to his face. Not willing to guess, Felix stood before him as his chest rose and fell.

"Sylvain?"

"Felix?" Sylvain replied in a gentle tone with a smile on his face. He looked down at his own arms for a moment, then back up at Felix with his best come hither look. "Last night, I believe you said something about wanting to handle me next time. It's next time, and I'm ready to be handled, if you're still interested..."

He let his voice trail off and tugged at the harness, raising a brow at the feeling of not being in control for the first time he could remember. It wasn't something he typically enjoyed, but he'd actually made Felix cry last night and he desperately wanted to be torn apart in kind. He let his head fall back with a little sigh, exposing his throat, though he peeked at Felix from beneath his lashes.

Seeing Sylvain restrained with such a tantalizing look on display was like nothing Felix had ever witnessed before in his life. He approached Sylvain to curiously nose at his exposed throat, to breathe in his essence, his adrenaline. With the offer now clear as day, Felix placed chaste kisses up the column of his throat, peppering them along his jawline. There was a clear change from the fervor in which Felix had approached him initially versus how he touched Sylvain in his harness. Felix didn't know to attribute the difference to his inexperience or if it was situational. Did he need to be so harsh and savage in his movements when there wasn't an even playing field? The difference, at least now, felt odd. If this were to continue, maybe his opinions would change. But for the moment, Felix subdued his apparently rougher tendencies.

If he did something wrong, he trusted that Sylvain would tell him. Felix decided to fret about his choices later in favor of continuing his pattern of dragging his swollen lips up and down Sylvain's neck. Unobstructed, Felix freed his shirt and began trailing his hands all over his chiseled body, tracing a light thumb over his nipple.

Fuck. No one ever touched him there, and Sylvain arched forward as if shocked with a low whimper. The sound was followed by a whine of frustration as the harness hindered his movements, so he settled for shifting his hips forward and hoped the other man didn't interpret it as some sort of power move; he was sincere about wanting to be completely at Felix's mercy. In past trysts, Sylvain had only pretended to be into submission to please his partner. Now? He was practically salivating at the prospect of getting even a taste of what Felix had to offer.

As curious hands continued to explore, Sylvain's breaths grew shorter, louder. He clenched his jaw, bit the inside of his cheek to muffle them; the last thing he wanted was to wake up Adder's AI and be interrupted. It wasn't long before he broke the silence to gasp out a broken version of Felix's name.

"You can do whatever you want to me. Please. "

Felix stilled his movements immediately as he had apparently pulled some reaction out of Sylvain. One that he would remember. Yet, the reverent way in which the man said his name...the way in which he pleaded...Felix would try to deliver to his satisfaction.

Taking a moment, Felix gathered his shirt, bunching it up over Sylvain's pecs, lifting it further to his mouth.

"Bite and hold."

With his path unobstructed, Felix trailed his mouth across Sylvain's chest, lavishing attention on the rapidly-hardening buds of his nipples. He stepped closer, palming Sylvain's hardness through the fabric of his uniform.

The twin sensations of Felix's mouth and hand were too much and not enough all at once. Sylvain clenched his shirt between his teeth obediently, cursing and whimpering into the cloth. He was already harder than the stupid exam he had to pass to even begin his training, and it had been more or less waxing and waning ever since they'd successfully finished their drill. Maybe even before that. If Sylvain was being honest with himself, he hadn't really stopped thinking about Felix since the night before and if he'd gotten off several times to the memory, that was no one's business but his own.

As much as he wanted to watch Felix's movements, which were surprisingly graceful despite his lack of experience, a particularly generous sweep of Felix's clever tongue sent a shiver down his spine and he squeezed his eyes shut, straining against the harness. At first, he tried to plead around the makeshift gag, but found that he didn't really want to--it was so rare that he was on the receiving end, the prey instead of the predator, and he didn't want to dissuade Felix in any way.

Hearing Sylvain’s stifled, wet moans was a two-fold positive. On the one hand, they served as guides, constellations to his pleasure. On the other, knowing that it was Felix  who was responsible for pleasing him (and succeeded) went straight to his cock. He wrapped his lips around a rosy nipple and began to undo Sylvain's pants, then jerked them down without grace or dexterity. Felix shucked off his own shirt before kneeling down at Sylvain’s feet, looking up defiantly with an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks.

“If I’m bad at this, I don’t want to talk about it after. Got it?”

Felix met Sylvain's eyes as he grasped his cock at the base and took an exploratory lick, followed by a second pass along its underside. After licking his hand obscenely and closing it around him, Felix slipped his lips around the head and began moving his mouth shallowly in tandem with his hand.

If I'm bad at this. As if that could ever be the case. 

Sylvain was typically not one to be quiet in bed, but something about the way Felix was handling him was making him seriously come undone. Maybe it was the knowledge that this was so new to him that he actually thought he wouldn't be good at it--Felix, of all people, who never doubted his own abilities. The gag slipped a little and a particularly sharp moan rang out through the cockpit. Sylvain's fingers twitched and he tightened them into fists, determined to submit, to be obedient, to be good for Felix.

"Fuck, Felix, no, you're not bad at all, you're so good..."

When Sylvain let out a sharp sound, Felix stopped everything and pulled back, looking up at him with wide, concerned eyes.

“You okay?”

Then, noticing nothing of harm and not hearing anything to the contrary, Felix redoubled his efforts, cheeks flushed from effort and praise. His hands never stopped moving as they wrapped around Sylvain's thighs, kneading into the well-built muscles.

Sylvain stared down in awe at the sight before him: his gorgeous copilot on his knees for him, blush painting his cheeks and creeping down his neck, swollen rosy lips wrapped around his throbbing cock. He gulped and took a long, shaky breath to steady himself.

"H-how can you even ask that at a time like this?" 

He wondered when the shift change had ended, if anyone could hear them. If that was the case, then at least they had the good sense not to intrude, because this...

"M--"

The AI's name almost slipped from his lips in a plea to release him from the harness, but Felix's molten gaze, his dark lashes fanning over that fucking blush, stopped him in his tracks. The repetitive motions were a mindless metronome, serving to make himself harder and be rewarded with sweet, gorgeous, yet lewd moans.

Feeling energized, carried away by his growing enthusiasm…Felix let his mouth wander. Releasing Sylvain's cock, he squeezed into his thighs to prompt a wider stance. Though his movements were made awkward by the harness, Felix managed to crawl through Sylvain's legs to face his well-sculpted ass. Gripping his copilot's cheeks and doubting himself every step of the way, Felix tongued his way up Sylvain’s cleft, moaning into the movement.

It had also been a long time--a very, very long time--since anyone had done this particular act for Sylvain, though he'd never stopped loving it. He thanked whatever in the universe blessed him yesterday that Felix did not uncover his (small, but diverse) collection of sex toys when he was looking for the lube. 

There was something to be said for maintaining the important things in your life.

The addition of the shy, probing tongue was enough for Sylvain to buck forward, now leaking precum freely onto his own stomach. He gave a short, nearly inaudible little moan at the sensation, knowing that it promised significant rewards later. And it seemed like Felix was only just getting started.

"Fe," he hissed, the only sound he could muster. And then he nodded his head once as an unspoken affirmation to his partner.

Much like the night before, Felix judged and based his motions off the responses he got from Sylvain. The small moan and the rasp of his name coupled with his nod and the jut of his hips were evidence enough to suggest that he had yet to cross some line or commit some faux pas. He extended his tongue to lap broadly against Sylvain’s entrance. He brought his hand to grip at the junction between his hip and thigh to hold him in place with a firm hand. His other hand kneaded into the pleasantly firm cheek as he groaned against Sylvain’s skin, applying more pointed attention to his hole. Felix was painfully hard now, losing himself in the experience that was Sylvain. He breathed out his name reverently as he provided raw, open-mouthed devotion.

Sylvain's eyes shot wide and a particularly loud and filthy-sounding "Fuck, " followed by Felix's name, bounced off the metal hull of the jaeger. He hadn't realized how little he actually received during sex until this moment and now that Felix had found the single loose thread designed to unravel him completely and was starting to tug at it...

His chest rose and fell heavily, toes clenching in his boots as Felix worked him over. The wrist restraints allowed for little movement of the rest of his body so Sylvain resigned himself to his fate: bound, helpless, and about to be devoured completely by Felix.

"What are you gonna do to me?" he gasped, voice broken.

What was he going to do?

Felix didn't have an answer. The idea of being inside Sylvain was an idea that had taken root inside his mind after last night. For Felix to be the one to make him feel that deep throbbing pressure and that spark of white when that one spot was reached was wildly enticing. But...he had said those things in the comfort of his room. On his bed. With lube. Not in Adder. In his arm braces. With spit.

Inadequacy. This was where it was going to show. Sylvain would finally see Felix for what he truly was. And that was less than, much like it had been the first time they Drifted together.

In a quiet voice, he offered unhelpfully, "Whatever you want."

As the flush of embarrassment and shame rose to Felix's face, he found himself happy to be out of Sylvain's sight. Frustrated and everything else, he lunged forward, wrapping his hand around Sylvain's weeping cock as he pressed his tongue into his tight bundle of muscle.

When Felix doubled down, two things happened: Sylvain's eyes shot open, and his hips shot forward. He could feel Felix's flush against his bare skin and it was making him crazy--well, that, and the tiny slurps and sucking sounds and Any Deity Above, was that just a moan ?

"Fe, I want you to fuck me," he finally managed to grit out. "Here. In this very goddamn jaeger. Just like this."

He knew the younger man's inexperience gave him pause, that he was constantly in his own head and doubting himself. But what Felix didn't know, could never know was that the newness, the messiness of it all was precisely what Sylvain found so intoxicating about him.

His hands were so very close to that beautiful dark hair, but he couldn't quite reach. Another small, frustrated sound followed by a harsh intake of breath. He felt like he was probably going to die.

As if he understood what Felix needed in the moment was understanding and assurance, Sylvain ensured just that.

Sylvain wanted him. Inside him. Right in this fucking jaeger.

Felix was fucking floored.

The breathy commands nearly ripped Felix away from his ministrations. Without a second thought, he stood up, now almost the same height as Sylvain in his harness. Felix popped his finger in his mouth to coat it with saliva before pressing it to Sylvain's entrance. Then slowly, painstakingly, he began to work his fingers inside Sylvain's waiting body. 

Sylvain was already so tight around Felix's fingers that he struggled to find any semblance of coordinated rhythm or comfortable position. To make up for it, Felix pressed close against Sylvain's back to press absentminded kisses to his shoulder blade as he worked his best at stretching him open.

For a moment, Sylvain forgot how to breathe.

As soon as he felt Felix's fingers--god, those fingers --start to work their way inside of him, his voice broke in a ragged string of curses. Despite having lube in his room, he rarely used it on himself for this particular purpose. He turned his head, clumsily attempting to brush his lips over Felix's flushed cheek.

"I like the burn," he whispered, voice slightly slurred. "And I like you, Fe."

Though it was difficult to find leverage within the constraints of the harness, Sylvain eventually managed to angle his hips enough to push down and against Felix's hand. When the tip of the long slender digit scraped along his walls just right, his vision whited out for a moment and he let loose a long, soft gasp.

It was as if Sylvain’s words had no other purpose but to fan the flames he had already ignited in Felix. Those flames happened to appear, again , in the form of a flush that was now traveling down his pale skin. When Sylvain let loose a strain of obscenities, Felix flexed his arm, moving faster. When Sylvain said he liked Felix, he bit down scraping against the meat in the crook of his neck. When Sylvain crooned, Felix slid a third, hard fought digit next to the others as he attempted to reapply the same contact. He clumsily tried to shuck his pants and underwear while keeping the strokes of his fingers true. That he succeeded was no small feat, though his movements were less than graceful.

Sylvain was too preoccupied with the addition of a third finger to notice any lack of grace in his partner's movements. His shoulders shook slightly with each shuddering exhale, thighs flexing uncontrollably. This stupid machine, his own stupid idea...

...Which was now paying off in spades, because Felix was naked and Sylvain was once again presented with the opportunity to shamelessly check him out, although he was at a slight disadvantage with Felix behind him. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder; he angle made it a bit difficult to see what was going on, but he could picture it fairly well: dark eyes, sharp bones, and stony muscle. A pretty pink flush that was undoubtedly painting his entire body by now, including his cock. Which he wished he could see, but the relentless rhythm of Felix's fingers soothed the disappointment.

"Fuck, yeah, right there..."

Felix panted, leaving hot moist spots against Sylvain's upper back. Still untouched, his cock began weeping, smearing translucent trails against the flat of his abdomen and Sylvain's quivering thigh. From the pressure building in his loins, the fucking vision that Sylvain was, and the incredible squeeze on his fingers, there was zero question in Felix's mind that he wasn't going to last. Especially when he was already starting to struggle.

A gleam of sweat covered his fevered body. Craning his neck, barely able to lay his forehead against the base of Sylvain's neck, skin against skin, Felix breathed out hard, slowing his fingers to a slow grind.

"Syl...can I?"

It felt like being close to the sun, being this close to Felix. Maybe even close to kissing the face of god itself. Sylvain pushed back desperately, artlessly, his movements only made more frantic by the throbbing heat, the trail of wetness painting his thigh. He shivered a little and nodded twice.

"If you don't, I'll destroy this fucking harness and then destroy you."

He'd finally stopped struggling against his restraints, but wouldn't hesitate to start up again if Felix kept teasing him. A breathy rumble of a laugh escaped Felix's lips.

"Next time."

Sylvain's 'threat' was a pleasant, if not needed, reprieve from the heady pressure that was building within Felix. He dragged out the final syllable, lips vibrating as he hummed down the length of Sylvain's spine. He licked his lips as he stood up, tasting the salty sweat from his muscular back. More to himself than anything, he breathed, "Fuck, you taste good."

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, his exhale, shaky. He withdrew his fingers, immediately taking his own neglected cock in hand. He spit a line of saliva down into his extended hand, coating its length. Then he drew himself to his full height to line up Sylvain's looser hole and his cock...and he was too short. Even at a fucking angle.

With a growl of frustration, Felix kicked at the inside of Sylvain's boot, widening his stance. As soon as his foot moved, so did Felix. He used this hand to guide the head of his cock and pressed firmly into Sylvain, garnering a breathless gasp; the pressure of his tight hole was like nothing Felix's hand could ever duplicate or have prepared him for.

"Goddamn... Sylvain. "

Sylvain managed not to whine at the loss of the fingers because he knew exactly what was coming. (Hopefully, both of them, and soon, he thought.) Suppressing a laugh at his shorter partner's struggle, he bent his knees as much as he was able and arched his spine until it ached, pushing his ass back, and back, and back, only stopping when he felt Felix's sharp hipbones meet his own damp, desperate flesh.

For a moment he simply held still and held his breath, relishing in the sensation of Felix finally being inside of him. (There was a still-hidden revelation that he had fantasized about this as he fucked himself after a particularly  frustrating and unproductive training session, but Sylvain thought that was better reserved for another time.)

He grinned devilishly and shifted his hips forward before snapping them back sharply, shivering at the slow drag of Felix's cock inside him.

"Yes, Felix?"

The sharp press of Sylvain's hips felt like a punch to the gut. All of the air escaped Felix's lungs as he folded over, pressing his hands to Sylvain's warm skin. The redhead's cocky tone cut through Felix's mind like a heated blade through butter as he fought to regain his composure.

Though Felix had no view of his face, but he had no doubt in his mind what look Sylvain wore. Wolfish grin, lidded eyes, all of the world's deserved and undeserved confidence in the entire look that comprised the man. And it incensed him. Righting himself along the fine line that was the last strand of his patience, Felix clamped his hands on each side of Sylvain's narrow hips. Felix pulled Sylvain to him as he finished the slow drag back, impaling him on his cock with prurient slap of heated skin. He pulled back again, repeating the quick snap of his hips to fully seat himself in Sylvain with a soft groan.

If he had something smartass to say back, it was soon forgotten in the... everything that was Sylvain. 

"God damn,"  Sylvain breathed, almost a prayer. "Where did all this come from?"

Truth be told, he'd seen shades of it last night, little flashes of boldness in how Felix had stroked his wrist right there in the fucking mess hall of all places, the way he fought for dominance before inevitably giving in. He remembered the sharp glint in the other man's eyes, a promise to give as good as he got but later, always later.  

And if he'd gone to bed with that promise echoing in his mind, well, Felix would have to pry that information out of him before he'd ever admit it.

The fast, almost brutal pace silenced him for a moment as he forgot how his lungs worked, how any part of his body worked. He became an extension of Felix with every thrust, every slap of skin on skin, every insistent nudge against his prostate as his copilot drove into him relentlessly. 

The third, fourth, fifth strokes were met with light moans at a quick pace, though, not to Felix's knowledge. It was as if the man was submerged under water. His motions felt sluggish, leaden weight behind every movement; he felt the bounce of Sylvain's ass slapping against his thighs with his entire body. His hips angled upwards as he thrust into the tight, tantalizing creature that was his copilot.

It was all so much. It was too much. He wasn't going to be able to satisfy Sylvain as he wanted, as he promised. Felix's head lolled as he approached the premature point of no return...until Sylvain spoke.

Like when Drifting, it was only his voice that brought him back. Even as soft as it was, uncharacteristic as it was to his boisterous exuberance, it was still uniquely Sylvain and his voice rang true to Felix.

"I told you...it's you."

All of a sudden, the was not enough contact between the two. Felix wanted more, to be closer to Sylvain even though the smart money was on that not being humanly possible as he was literally already inside him. Scrubbing for purchase against his tanned glistening skin, Felix held Sylvain at his hip, trailing a hand down his spine. He focused on the hard ridges of Sylvain's abdomen as his fingers traced his incredible musculature. Beautiful, handsome, strong, tight...were all a list of things that could be said of Sylvain at the moment. As he thrust forward again in a painfully slow push, Felix's voice came out in a whisper.

"I'm getting lost in you."

Lost.

The words shot through Sylvain like a shock; it was indeed like getting lost, but nothing like the endless anguish of the lostness of the Drift. He nodded in agreement and responded at first with a hoarse moan, trying to find the words to describe...everything. It was overwhelming; Felix's body seemed to radiate electricity. Even the air felt alive around them.

He took Felix's hand in his own and guided it down to his swollen, leaking cock. His eyelids immediately fluttered shut at their combined touch and he flashed back not to an awful past but a glorious one: Felix spread out beneath him last night, hands and mouth everywhere.

"Touch me," he whispered.

Sylvain's will be done.

Chest against Sylvain's back, Felix panted with a slight roll of his hips as Felix he allowed his hand be led down to Sylvain's cock. As Sylvain's grip eclipsed his own, Felix closed his eyes, focusing on the incredible sensations. The twin aspects of the hot flesh in his grip as he traced his long length and the tight squeeze and quiver of Sylvain's entrance at the touch were beyond belief.

Felix had grit and he had nerve, both of which got him very far in the last forty eight hours. However, there remained the baseline of fear of inadequacy, fear of rejection. Both served in equal parts as the undercurrent throughout his entire life. His actions matching his desires allowed Felix time enough to process, courage enough to act, and confidence enough to let himself have what was freely given. The feeling alone was indescribable.

He kissed tenderly at his lightly freckled skin as he moved their hands in tandem, breathing out his desire.

"I want you to come undone."

And that was all it took, really. If Sylvain had thought he'd come harder than he ever had in his life last night, he'd just been proven wrong. Dead-ass wrong. His back arched impossibly against Felix as he simultaneously tried to push back onto his cock. His entrance clenched a rapid staccato around Felix as he came into their joined hands with a cry. When he squeezed his eyes shut, he was surprised to find his lashes thick and damp with unshed tears.

As he came down and became aware of the gentle kisses, each one planted as though Felix truly meant it, a lone tear fell and caught on Sylvain's cheekbone. His chest rose and fell heavily as he struggled to catch his breath, and he had just enough presence of mind to turn his head and whisper, "I adore you. "

*

When Felix felt the pulse of Sylvain's cock in his hand, he rolled his hips.

When Sylvain clenched impossibly tighter around his cock, he needed to pull out.

When Sylvain whispered. When he whispered--

Felix let out a groan from his soul as he came harder than he ever had in his slightly-less-than-thirty years on the planet. He collapsed against Sylvain as he fell limply out of his stretched hole, breathing hard.

"Sorry..."

Sylvain made a very new, very different sound than before when he felt Felix's orgasm wash over him, the other man filling him up. Another first for him; he'd never allowed anyone to come in him before, just like he'd always pulled out with women. Only difference was, he couldn't get knocked up, Sylvain thought with a sly smile.

Thank god for the restraints holding him upright, because Sylvain's knees threatened to buckle, both from Felix's weight against his back and coming so hard that it was likely his soul left his body for a moment. His brain sure as hell had turned off.

"Don't apologize...that was fucking hot. No one's ever done that...and I want you to do it again. Later,"  he added in a teasing tone. 

Felix was slow to get up and break the warm contact. He walked naked and without shame to Sylvain’s side, disengaging the arm harnesses manually. Then he lifted Sylvain's arms to examine the angry red marks made by the restraints. He rubbed at Sylvain’s wrists with a delicate touch, trying to soothe the flesh.

The words, however, unexpectedly hit Felix like a ton of bricks. He met Sylvain's eyes, bewildered.

"That was a first…was a first for you?”

Sylvain rolled and massaged his wrists after Felix released them, lifting his gaze to him with a grateful look. Then he let his copilot take over, surprisingly soft fingertips massaging at the angry red flesh.

"Brutal, but worth it," he commented as he looked down at the marks; he didn't care to respond to the "first" question. It was too painful, too complicated. "Clean me up?"

Felix hummed noncommittally, still unsure what to do with the new information. Dropping his hands, he looked around the cockpit, finding the hand towel that remained stowed away to scrub their usually sweat-dripping helmets. He methodically wiped Sylvain down, impressed and slightly proud of how filthy he'd managed to get him. He finished by taking Sylvain's hand and running the cloth along each finger individually. 

He glanced at the red marks on Sylvain's wrists and frowned.

"How are you feeling?"

The bland hum piqued his interest, and Sylvain quirked an inquisitive brow as he watched Felix cleaned him off. It was an unexpectedly intimate and caring gesture, that he wiped Sylvain down first before tending to himself. He fought valiantly against another stab of arousal as he watched Felix run the cloth down his cock, even though he was mostly soft now.

"I feel incredible," Sylvain said, as much an affirmation for Felix as the admission of the truth. "What about you? Have you ever thought about doing this before?"

The past 48 hours had basically ensured that Felix was a virgin for everything beyond his own curious explorations, and Sylvain bit back a moan at the thought of Felix alone in his room, fingering himself and desperately fisting his own cock as he sought release.

"Good," Felix said softly as he cleaned himself up, then set about getting dressed. He cast bashful eyes at Sylvain and then looked away, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Because how could he not have enjoyed it? It was amazing. Sylvain and all the sounds he made, how his skin felt against all parts of him, everything. And his words...

I adore you.

Felix's face colored. That part...he definitely didn't understand. Lost in the perplexing memory, he nearly missed Sylvain's probing question.

"Have I ever thought about fucking in a jaeger? No. Can't say I have. Until a while ago." A little hesitantly, he added, "And even then, it wasn't like this."

No, it was more a repeat of last night...Sylvain hoisting him up, grinding and fucking him for all he was worth up against the cold steel of the control panel, knobs and switches leaving imprints in his back...

"Otherwise," he stated, fastening his pants, "it's never really been a concern of mine. When I've been pent up, I take care of it."

"Well, I've certainly thought about it," Sylvain countered seductively. "Ever since the first time we fucked up our drill, I've been wondering what we could do differently to fix it. And...in addition to a remedy, I think I've found a new addiction."

He purred the final word directly into Felix's ear and darted his tongue out to trace along the shell. No one was there to see, to reprimand him. 

"Have you been thinking about me? Since, you know..." Sylvain let the sentence trail off, knowing it would probably be enough to rattle Felix--hopefully in a good way.

Felix turned his head, leaning back from Sylvain and his tongue. He repeated in a low voice, “Since we fucked up our drill?”

I adore you.

He was a fucking idiot.

Felix’s eyes narrowed. So this was just him being creative. A different sort of training. He picked up his shirt, pulling it roughly over his head. He didn't trust himself to look at Sylvain, though Felix knew he shouldn't be mad. It wasn’t Sylvain's fucking fault Felix was a wide-eyed child who insisted on attaching unwarranted meaning to whatever the fuck this was. He’d benefit, too. He already had, hadn’t he? They passed their drills today with flying colors. That was proof enough. 

Felix answered sharply, “Yeah. It’s come across my mind. Good practice and everything, right?”

In his post-orgasmic haze, Sylvain missed the sharp inflection in Felix's words. His hand came up to Felix's face, thumb caressing his cheekbone in a manner that was a little past friendly, a little past casual sexual partners. 

"Yeah, I mean, I feel like this adds another level to the Drift, you know? We know each other in a different way now, which can only make us stronger."

Felix stood still as Sylvain raised his hand to his face. They were done. Why was any of this necessary? It wasn’t. Felix's affect betrayed little as he gathered Sylvain's clothes and thrust them into his arms.

"You should get dressed.”

Still oblivious to the change in Felix's demeanor, Sylvain continued to do what he did best: run at the mouth.

"I mean, seriously, that was amazing," Sylvain added as he pecked a quick kiss onto Felix's cheek before he began wiping them both up. "Whose idea was this, anyway? Yours? Mine? Ours?"

Felix scrubbed his cheek after the far-too-gentle kiss. Whose idea indeed. Guess it didn’t matter if it was so they could be better in the Drift. It was likely both of theirs if they got where they needed to be.

“Don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”

He was done here. He moved to the cockpit's exit.

Sylvain came back to reality as Felix's back turned and he followed him to the door, a questioning look on his face.

"So, what happens now?" he asked, hands going to Felix's ass and squeezing almost instinctively. 

Felix swatted at the hand squeezing his cheek. “Knock it off. I’m not your scheduler. There are plenty of other people and other things for you to do. I suggest you go take care of either.”

That he could look that happy, that genuine right at his face, as if he was the one it was for, it almost made it understandable how Felix found himself swept up in Sylvain’s act.

Almost.

Not waiting for his copilot, Felix stalked toward the main halls.

Sylvain was utterly baffled by the mercurial change in Felix's temperament. One moment he was gentle, almost loving  with him, and the next, he was spiky and aloof. He followed Felix closely, watching the tight and almost angry tension in his back as the shorter man walked several steps in front of him.

"Fe," Sylvain called, soft and warm. "Where are you going?"

It hurt him almost to the point of tears that they could have been so sweet and close with each other only minutes before and then completely break apart. Sylvain would have given anything in that moment to know what was going through Felix's mind, what he was feeling. He settled for catching up with the other man and grasping his waist with his right hand. 

I adore you.

Felix shifted away from the touch. It was far too gentle. Far too familiar. Far too…loving. As he turned to face Sylvain, he blinked back the shame, the hurt until all he had left to show was anger. He glared up at Sylvain.

“Away from you.”

Sylvain had never offered tenderness, a truly affectionate touch to anyone before. To have it rejected...he bit his cheek hard, trying not to frown, trying to hold back an entirely different kind of tears in his eyes.

Seeing Sylvain's eyes glisten in the harsh light nearly weakened Felix's heart so he pressed on. He had to.

“You have successfully found a remedy to whatever fuck up we had. And we are done with our Drift drills for today. There’s nothing else you need me for. So let me go.” 

"But we knew we were compatible even before...this..." Sylvain said weakly.

But he did as he was asked; he let Felix go. Even though every cell in his body screamed at him to follow Felix, Sylvain opted instead to take to his lonely bed for the next fourteen hours. He dreamt of lightly scuffed metal and a short choppy ponytail and hot breath against his neck. Echoes.

He woke intermittently, but mercifully was not conscious for long.

Chapter 5: Godfuckingdamnit.

Summary:

So...what he had felt, was that right? Did that then have a chance to be something...mutual?

The small, strangled sound that came out of Felix's throat was swallowed up by the shrill, deafening sound of sirens.

KAIJU SPAWN SIGHTING; CAT 3 INITIAL READING; ALL CAT 3 CERTIFIED PILOTS TO DEPLOY.

Chapter Text

Felix was relieved that Sylvain didn’t follow.

And that was where the positives ended.

He kept himself busy, staying as far away from his living quarters as possible since the man he most wanted to avoid was situated right next door. He didn’t want to see Sylvain until he saw the man he initially met. Cocky, boisterous, and fake. Felix had the correct inclination that if he were to see him now, he would still see the man who had offered him tenderness, support, adoration. None of which were accurate.

Perhaps if Felix was a stronger man he could have avoided all of this. But he was weak, just as he had always been.

The sleep he managed to get, all four-and-a-half hours of it, were fucking rough. He felt miserable, which was why he found himself in the weight room for the third time in twelve hours.

Sylvain, on the other hand, had one very basic rule. He never exercised in any form; the two exceptions were requirements for advancement exams and running if something was chasing him.

And yet now, despite Sylvain's most valiant efforts not to chase Felix despite wanting to woo him properly, the way he deserved, he still found himself in the weight room. He hated the little ripple of warmth low in his abdomen when he first laid eyes on him, straining as he lifted weights and scantily clad (at least, for Felix). He wanted nothing more than to bend him over the nearest piece of equipment, whether it was occupied or not, but resisted. For now.

"Hey," he purred, sidling up to Felix.

Godfuckingdamnit.

Felix wanted to curse whatever the fuck was forcing them to have another interaction so soon. But what he’d have to fix first was not feeling like he would melt on contact from hearing his honeyed voice. With so many others nearby, Felix felt relatively confident this conversation would be easy to snuff out. His tone and affect were flat as he responded

“Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?"

"I kind of got roasted by one of our instructors for not being in great shape, so I was basically ordered to hit the gym. Fancy meeting you here."

Though his words were neutral, Sylvain couldn't help but let his eyes sweep over Felix's lithe form again. Then he slapped himself mentally, because these kinds of mixed messages always seemed to lead to hurt feelings and Felix pulling away.

It was a marvel how easily the redhead slipped in and out of his roles. Felix saw the way his eyes looked over him. Just another act. Or was it hunger and it was simply feeding time? He regarded Sylvain suspiciously.

“That’s stupid. What fucking shape do they want you in?”

"Better than what I have now, apparently."

“Sounds like bullshit.”

Grumbling under his breath, Felix continued working on his current set. His muscles ached from overwork. Doing much of anything now would only be adding to the buildup of lactic acid and of course this would be the one day Sylvain decided to get off his lazy, perfect ass and join him.

Sylvain picked up a set up weights from the rack next  to Felix and began to do basic warm-ups. The curl of his elbow, the grip of his hand on the weight as he lifted, the strain in his bicep...all were familiar and uncomfortable and at the moment, very much welcome in their intrusive brutality. He needed a distraction. The pure contempt in Felix's gaze and tone hurt him deeply and he stared at Felix in the mirror before them.

"Is there any particular reason you're avoiding me?"

The exact answer to that question would be Yes, because I’m hurt and I need to protect myself by getting you out of my system. And there was absolutely, positively no way Felix was going to share that weak, pathetic gem. 

Meeting his reflection’s gaze, Felix, instead answered again with another truth.

“You haven’t needed me for anything so there’s not been a reason to be around.” 

Sylvain felt a cold chill run down his spine and his stomach dropped. Needed. As if Sylvain hadn't told him so, so many times how much he wanted Felix around...his gaze fell to the floor and he studied their shoes intensely while he thought.

Was it something he'd done? There was the harness, and tenderness, and then it was as if a terrible switch had flipped and his copilot was back to being as aloof and cold as before. Maybe even worse, because Sylvain had gotten a taste of what it could be like, happiness, and now it had been snatched away.

"Yeah, but I've wanted you around."

He couldn't bring himself to say the three words that rang the most true: I've missed you.

Want.

It was known to Felix long before he found himself in Sylvain's bed that he was a man of passions. He wanted many things and many people. Felix now was just another item on that list. And again, this just served as another reminder to himself that he shouldn't be mad at Sylvain. This was what he did and this was what he wanted. It was only ever Felix that attached anything else to it. Leave it to the virgin to get caught up in his feelings and make a fool out of himself. That tracked for Felix.

"Is that right?" Felix stepped forward, re-racking his weights. "What part of me have you wanted around?" His pointed gaze was equal parts disgust and hurt aimed at himself, Sylvain, the situation, all of it. "My ass or my dick, now that you've had both?"

The words were a shock, but not a surprise. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard countless times before; probably in the hundreds, honestly, and Sylvain wasn't surprised that Felix thought he was a whore, that he only cared about getting his dick wet.

Everyone else did, so why not him?

Self-loathing and shame burned hot in Sylvain's belly and he took a deep breath before speaking. He was about to tell Felix how he'd ruined him for everyone else, how he hadn't so much as looked at another person in that way since their first time together, but it would only solidify what the other man thought: That Sylvain only wanted him for his body.

"Just...you," he said softly. "Your company. I miss just...talking to you. Being with you." 

For someone who was so good with words (and knew quite a lot of them), he couldn't find anything else to say.

Like most of the last seventy-two hours, Felix didn't know what to do or even expect. One thing was for fucking certain though: He didn't expect this. Any of it. Not the downtrodden look that came over not just Sylvain's face, but his entire body as well. Not the soft, broken voice that somehow came from the same man who said he was a great lay with a laugh. Certainly not the words that were said.

All of it caught Felix unbalanced and off guard. He blanched, eyes nearly owlish in confusion.

"Why?"

That anyone would miss his company, talking to him, or just him was something new altogether.

Sylvain chose his next words very carefully. Everything that initially came to mind was selfish: You know my story now was the worst of all, because he knew it would make Felix feel a sense of obligation. For all his piss-and-vinegar, he knew that the other man was deeply sensitive no matter how ferociously he fought to hide it.

"Because you're the only person who's ever seen me as more than a life support system for a dick. You're the only one who's actually wanted to talk to me. And...and because, I don't know, I feel kind of safe with you, I guess."

The admission was a difficult one and he winced, brows furrowing. Vulnerability was something he wasn't good at, had never been good at, and yet now it seemed to be the only option.

Life support system for a dick.

Had Felix not been so thrown off, he might have actually snickered at that one because from the outside, on the surface, yeah. That's what Sylvain came off as. That's the image he pushed. But...Felix had gotten to know him better, on a deeper, more intrinsically personal level that not many apparently had the privilege.

So...what he had felt, was that right? Did that then have a chance to be something...mutual?

The small, strangled sound that came out of Felix's throat was swallowed up by the shrill, deafening sound of sirens.

KAIJU SPAWN SIGHTING; CAT 3 INITIAL READING; ALL CAT 3 CERTIFIED PILOTS TO DEPLOY.

The speaker's announcement pierced through the minutiae that clouded his mind as he looked urgently at Sylvain.

"We gotta go!"

Chapter 6: Gallos

Summary:

PING.

Felix's eyes shot to the location marked by Sylvain. Four klicks. "And closing."

Mia, ever-omnipresent, chimed in.

‘Gallos.’

Felix gritted his teeth, his pulse racing, his veins on fire.

"On me."

Chapter Text

Cat 3.

The words echoed through the gym and morphed into something awful: His father's tone.

"Sylvain. You and Miklan will be deploying on your first battle. Just a category 2, which is nothing you boys can't handle."

A fucking lie.

He followed Felix numbly through the building to the hangar, trying to move with urgency even though he felt as though he were wading through a swamp. And perhaps he was. 

Left foot: Kaiju alert. Category 3. All Cat 3-certified pilots...

Right foot: Miklan's voice. The roar of the kaiju as it tore Ruined Sky's arm off, taking Miklan's own with it.

How was Felix so calm? How could he possibly be keeping his shit together so well when Sylvain himself was falling the fuck apart right there? 

Climbing into the cockpit was a surreal experience and Sylvain's thoughts became a fever dream as he activated Mia's systems, his own voice coming from somewhere very far away. As he strapped himself into his harness, images and sensations came back in a dizzying rush: Felix's hands, his mouth, the helpless rub of his own wrists against the restraints.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep: in for four, out for eight.

He was ready.

One moment they stood before each other in the weight room on the verge of...something. Now, in the cockpit, side by side in their harnesses, they were on the verge of something else.

*

Antici-

Their fleet-footed steps led them in a practiced track to Adder. Felix's senses were alive and alert, every cell in his body firing to the limit as they engaged Mia. He didn't even have the presence of mind to get out of his own mind long enough to look at his co-pilot. In his neighboring harness, less than two meters apart, Sylvain had never looked so far away.

"Syl-"

The airlocks all compressed with an aggressive hiss of pressurized air, releasing the backer to Adder and raising the jaeger up through the deployment shaft. Once they breached the hull of the elevator, their airlift connections engaged and they had liftoff.

Every fiber of his being was electrified. He heard every mechanism's joints as they yawned to life. In his suit, Felix was already drenched. His palms were clammy with sweat. Nerves and anxiety coursed through his system as his vitals climbed. As he watched the readout in front of his eyes, he was uncomfortably aware of his heightened state. Quantifiably so.

When he turned his head to look at Sylvain, there was no smirk, wolfish grin, not even a glance. His partner looked dead ahead, face slack and placid. With a switch, Felix switched the readouts to his co-pilot's status. From what he knew of Sylvain, it shouldn't have surprised him, but it did all the same. Most, normal. Some, lower. A cold wave of worry washed over Felix.

"Syl-!"

Drop.

-pation.

*

Sylvain barely registered the fading of the klaxons, the groan of the hydraulics as Adder barreled up the deployment shaft. He'd never particularly enjoyed this sensation, the momentary weightlessness just before the icy plunge into full Drift, but it was worse this time. His stomach turned and he bit his lip, eyes trained forward in search of a stationary object to ground himself.

His copilot saying his name broke through the terrible reverie and Sylvain turned his head to look at Felix with wide, startled eyes. The look of concern on Felix's face troubled him deeply, but he couldn't quite bring himself to plaster on a smile.

"Felix. We're fine. You're fine. Let's go."

He forced the corner of his mouth to lift in a half-smile as he began to move, muscles aching with the strain of propelling the gigantic machine forward. He felt weary down to his bones, and their day had only just begun.

But what about you?

Felix’s eye twitched and his expression grew even more troubled at Sylvain’s words, but they had a job to do. Though he was unconvinced, Felix nodded and forced his vision back ahead, eyes daring to his right.

They were to cover a five-mile radius as their search began. On their shared radar, similar jaeger drops showed that support was en route. Fortunately, the bogey hadn't yet pinged on the scope. Felix gave himself over to the Drift, willing the left side to lurch forward in perfect step with Sylvain. The strain he felt in his muscles was incredible as they propelled the jaeger forward.

With more effort than had been needed previously, Felix worked to arm himself. As he extended his left arm, Mia droned, “Engaging blade link.”

Mia's calm robotic voice soothed Sylvain and he extended his own arm, feeling uneasily like a child searching for praise. The steady mechanical clunk as the jaeger's right arm rose sent chills down his spine; it sounded too similar to the chain lift on the roller coaster Miklan had tried to throw him out of when he was ten. And now he was inside the belly of the beast, a slave to the creaking metal. It was dangerous here, he shouldn't...

He shouldn't fucking go there right now, that's what. Sylvain tutted along under his breath to the beat of the flamethrower's whirring as it shifted into position.

"Say, Felix," he said, sounding more like himself with each syllable. "What made you choose slicing instead of burning? For Adder, I mean. They gave us a choice, and I let you pick first, remember?"

He turned his head and offered the other man the tiniest of sly smiles.

Hearing the sound of Sylvain's flamethrower was a welcomed sign, oddly enough. The familiarity of the incessantly loud machine was much like Sylvain. Impressive to look at and even more impressive in action. The sheer power contained in such a mechanism, in such a man was safety. It was restraint. It was comfort.

The voice that now called his name was very much the same.

"I remember."

Felix looked down at his arm and its serrated extension. In his mind, there was never a choice.

"It's simple and suits me. Every swipe and movement is a conscious choice. Anything else, it's too overpowering. And I didn't want any part of that."

He scanned ahead at their surroundings as he continued, pointed features relaxing slightly. "I felt confident you'd respect the destructive aspect more. Be more responsible."

He hadn't ever intended to divulge his decision-making process, if one could even call it that, but, there it was. There was no choice. It was always going to be Sylvain.

"You thought I would be the respectful one? Jesus Christ, I thought everyone had gone insane when they decided to trust me with this thing."

Sylvain laughed and twitched his fingers in a come-hither motion and Adder spouted a lightning-fast flash of flame. It was true that he respected the thing, but it was an uneasy truce at best. Sylvain had never quite learned the difference between fear and respect, and both were probably the best way to approach the jaeger.

Much like Felix. He'd surprised Sylvain countless times in the last few days, alternating between playful and tender and seductive and harsh by turns. And yet he felt comfortable with the other man, perhaps because he was temperamental.

The radar lit up with a sharp ping.

"There, up at our nine. Four klicks. Big motherfucker, too, from the looks of it."

The laugh followed by a plume of flame made Felix's lips curl. Yes. Sylvain might be big and flashy, but he held true power. He knew when and how to exert it. Felix hadn’t thought much of Sylvain when they first met and completed their initial training missions, but he never once questioned his use of force. Unlike himself.

PING.

Felix's eyes shot to the location marked by Sylvain. Four klicks. "And closing."

Mia, ever-omnipresent, chimed in.

Gallos.’

Felix gritted his teeth, his pulse racing, his veins on fire.

"On me."

Pivoting Adder, Felix willed his side on, left, right, left again. They moved in head-on with purpose until they locked on a visual. Gallos. Stories taller than any fucking Cat 3 runs, crisscrossing gnashing mandibles, matching jagged pincers, layers upon layers of barnacled shelling, glowing red eyes trained on them.

Molten slits glaring right back.

“Big motherfucker,” he breathed.

Felix bared his teeth in a savage grin as he flexed his sword arm.

"Is that...a fucking crab?" Sylvain asked incredulously, staring at the beast. "I've never seen one like that before."

He had only the briefest of moments to take in the creature looming impossibly high above them before he heard Felix's voice shift into something feral, something powerful, something he'd never heard before. It startled him, frightened him, spurred him on.

Sylvain made a tight fist and swung out hard, making contact with one of Gallos' mandibles. The crunch echoed through the cockpit and he smiled, easily getting caught up in the blood lust, the thrill of the hunt. He flicked his fingers and the flamethrower roared to life, painting a blistering sear across the kaiju's right side.

As they continued to advance, Sylvain began to feel a strange tingling at the back of his mind and pushed it away.

Water. Of course they were in the water. Adder's movements, already slow, became even more labored as the machine struggled against the tide. Sylvain clenched his teeth and strained with the enormous effort of just keeping the damn thing upright, let alone fighting. He stole a quick glance at Felix to ground himself; the look of intense concentration on his copilot's face and the bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes reassured him.

"Nobody's going home missing any parts today, okay?"

...right, left.

As soon as Sylvain launched a punishing right hook, exalting in the delicious crunch, Felix fluidly followed the momentum leaning left. From there, he brought his sword arm in a sweeping uppercut from left to right. His swing glanced off the hard outer shell, pincers following the iridescent gleam of the blade, distracted.

Giving no quarter, Sylvain activated his machine perfectly. A stream of searing power scorched Gallos' right side, just enough to distract. Felix let out a feral snarl as he took the opening Sylvain had provided, descending with his blade to slice the creature from upper right to lower left. With all the torque his body could muster, he followed an exacting path to cleave its left claw clean off.

If the terrible high-pitch vocalization that it emitted wasn't proof positive, the black ichor seeping from Gallos' left nub certainly was.

Looking over, Felix growled in agreement, "Not today."

Sylvain winced at the spatter of dark ooze, thanking whatever merciless force controlled the universe that he wasn't there in person to take the brunt of it. Felix's triumphant cry spurred him on and he raised his right arm with a grunt, preparing to strike again. But first, he indulged himself for a moment to look over at the other man.

His copilot was radiant in the heat of battle: cheeks flushed, hair plastered to his forehead inside the heavy helmet, lips pulled back in a snarl. Sylvain thought that even if Felix had been born in a different time, he'd still be doing this: cutting down enemies as though it was his sole reason for existing. More kaiju blood, steaming and viscous, sprayed into the air and he forced himself back to the task at hand.

The flamethrower needed time to cool, he decided, and opted to use the arm as a battering ram instead. He swung upward this time, glancing across Gallos' face and taking a sizable chunk out of its mandible. What remained was splintered and jagged and gleamed perversely in the bright afternoon sun. The creature keened again and Sylvain shivered, thinking of having his own teeth put out once.

Poor guy.

Felix flowed with Sylvain's bone shattering drive, making quick work of the kaiju's remaining jutted mandible.

Poor guy.

Wait. Poor guy?

Compelled, Felix licked at his own teeth, tongue sliding over the smooth surface to confirm they were all still snugly affixed to his skull.

Staggered and enraged, the monster surged forward, lashing out at Adder's right.

All teeth accounted for and seeing the kaiju's attack focused on the battering ram that was Sylvain's arm, Felix wasted no time changing his guard to defensive. Although Gallos' injuries were substantial, like anything in nature, it was most dangerous when wounded.

With a shout, Felix threw the flat side of his blade link against the broad side of the vertical flamethrower to create a crossed guard, parrying the angled attack. Heaving all he could against the massive weight of the incensed kaiju, Felix clenched his jaw as he held the blade locked in place.

The shock of Felix's strike rippled up Sylvain's arm and he cried out, nearly dropping his weapon. Panting, he leaned forward in his harness and turned his head to lock eyes briefly with his copilot as he pushed with everything he had.

"This fucking thing!"

With a roar that caused his voice to break, Sylvain activated the flamethrower again, shooting an unrestrained spray of fire directly into the creature's face. Mia blared a warning; Sylvain bellowed at her to shut the fuck up.

He kept the flames going long after the beast had fallen back into the sea.

The creature that was formerly whole, that formerly had some semblance of a face, that was formerly known as Gallos, fell and sank to the ocean floor.

As the white to blue to red flames shot a column into the sky, Felix’s eyes stayed skyward, wide and wild.

Before the blade link could even fully retract, Felix was struggling against his restraints. Because at the moment, that’s all his harness served as.

Forgetting Mia’s most basic commands, Felix yelled over at Sylvain. “Your arm! Your arm! Are you okay? Talk to me!”

His arm? Sylvain blinked hard, the sharp tones of Felix's frantic voice breaking through the ringing in his ears. He slowly uncurled his fist and the flames stopped. Then he looked over at his co-pilot, puzzled.

"Mia, disengage harness."

His own voice was calm as he spoke. Sylvain couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but he felt lighter somehow, as though he were floating serenely on a cloud. He stepped out of his restraints and took off his helmet as he slowly made his way over to Felix, eyeing the other man curiously.

"What should I say, Fe?" he asked, trailing the tip of his index finger across the front of Felix's helmet. "Got a little carried away, I guess. You know how I can be."

There was a small, pitiful sound that escaped his throat when Sylvain next spoke. Slow, calm, collected. There was no question. He was in control.

“Carried away?” Felix repeated, his voice sounded low and dangerous. Though his co-pilot’s finger slid along his visor, his amber eyes never left Sylvain’s.

“Motherfu--Mia! Disengage, NOW!

Felix tumbled out of his harness ungracefully, ripping off his helmet, throwing it to the side. His bangs soaked with sweat were plastered, matted down and back against his forehead. Felix’s hands had balled into shaking fists. At some point, he had gotten hard.

Fucking show me.

The low, gravelly command was all he gave before he jumped. Arms clamping around his shoulders, ankles locking at his lower back, Felix was on Sylvain in an instant, kissing him with abandon.

Sylvain's eyes widened in astonishment as Felix not only jumped on but actually climbed him like a goddamn tree. His hands instinctively slid down to cup Felix's ass, drawing him closer.

"Fucking show you what?" he repeated as he spun them around and rammed Felix back against the control panel. Mia said something in response but Sylvain couldn't hear her because he wasn't listening.

He was, however, in the process of grinding hard into Felix, hips rutting up ungracefully as he moaned into his partner's mouth. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, taking him to new and dizzying heights.

I guess we're not fighting anymore, he thought before losing himself to Felix completely.

Felix groaned out as Sylvain slammed him into the metal panel and answered in broken, gasping breaths.

Sylvain. Show me you. All of you.”

He barely got the words out before devoting himself to the man beneath him and the adrenaline dump that spurred him on. Then he was grabbing Sylvain’s hair and tugging it back to access the only visible part of his neck to latch on and suck a fast bruise into his skin, overcome by the desire to mark him.

Sylvain hesitated for a moment at Felix's vague request, then decided that showing him everything would be the best idea. He pulled himself back from Felix's ravenous mouth reluctantly to strip off the t-shirt he'd been wearing beneath his drivesuit, then paused with his hands on Felix's waist to simply admire him.

"Fuck, look at you," Sylvain breathed, and then he lunged forward to kiss Felix again, biting and sucking at the other’s mouth as though he wanted to devour him whole. He dug his fingers into Felix's sides, holding him firmly in place against the console, and whimpered a little—partly for effect, and partly because Felix was fucking him up in a thousand new and different ways.

Under Sylvain's fevered gaze and his reverent words, Felix's cheeks colored as his chest rose and fell in an unsteady staccato. It was this look that made his heart clench. The vise grip to his sides sent rolling chills throughout his sweat-soaked body.

He met Sylvain's voracious mouth with hunger. Felix let himself be pulled into Sylvain, sandwiched between his hard body and a harder place. Pushed up against the control panel, he moaned, whimpering into his mouth as he clawed at his co-pilot's broad back.

Resurfacing for a moment, Felix grew slack in his hands, tipping his head down to rest against Sylvain's chest. As he spoke, he was acutely aware of the rapid rise and fall of his own chest.

I missed you, goddamnit."

Never before in his life had Sylvain felt so completely alive, and he doubted he ever would again. Once more, Felix was unmaking him with only a few fleeting touches, a few sweet sounds.

"I'm right here, Fe," he murmured as he moved to tongue the tender spot on Felix's neck just behind his ear. "I'm exactly where you want me."

Sylvain slotted a knee between Felix's thighs just as he reached down to press a firm hand against his co-pilot's cock. He wasn't sure when this interesting new development had occurred, but Sylvain had been suffering in silence himself since they'd landed the killing blow on Gallos. He debated whether or not to tell Felix and decided on "not"; all things in their time, he reminded himself.

Felix's cheeks colored at his own admission. Mercifully, Sylvain didn't linger on his words, instead tongued at his neck. It was easier to focus their heated bodies rather than the weighty words that he couldn't have thought better of saying.

His head leaned back against the cold metal as soon as he felt Sylvain's thigh and hand against his cock. Felix rutted intently against the pressure, wrapping his arm pulling Sylvain by his lower back into him, groaning into his mouth, nipping at his lip, coming apart.

Sylvain's breath left him all at once as he gasped into Felix's mouth at the insistent tugging. Always happy to oblige and more than happy to indulge, he grasped Felix more firmly through his pants and began to move his wrist in a slow, fluid rhythm.

"If you missed me so much," he purred into Felix's heated flesh, "why'd you run away in the first place?"

He swiped his tongue out against the rapidly pulsing vein in Felix's neck and suckled at it gently with a fragment of a moan. The last day had been tumultuous to say the least, and although Sylvain wasn't sure how long he'd remain in Felix's good graces this time, he was certainly going to make the most of it while he still could.

Felix craned his neck as Sylvain’s hot breath ghosted against his neck. The blood was quickly leaving one head, going to another as Sylvain’s deft fingers stroked the outline in his pants.

Hoping that shifting the focus to Sylvain would take the focus off his words, Felix peppered kisses down his jawline, to his chest, flicking his tongue over his nipples. His rough hands held Sylvain close, squeezing his ass briefly before jerking his pants down.

“It’s embarrassing and not important.”

He didn’t want to waste time discussing something as idiotic as his hurt feelings. What he did want was to make Sylvain moan more and know just how pleased Felix was with him.

Sylvain let himself be manhandled eagerly, willingly. Whatever had prompted Felix to pull away so abruptly, it was important to Sylvain...but he was still human, and the flesh was weak.

Very.

He gasped and threw his head back, overwhelmed again. How could one person be so much all at once? It made his knees weak and he leaned heavily into Felix, pressing their foreheads together while he panted.

"What is important, then?" he murmured.

Another tease. Further from his feelings. He could work with that. Felix leaned up, kissing Sylvain’s forehead, affording himself some space. He brought his hand up to his mouth, making pointed eye contact as he made a show of swallowing his index and middle fingers.

After a moment and in one motion, he pulled out his glistening fingers, wrapping his arm back around Sylvain, hitting home with his wet pads against Sylvain’s sensitive entrance. As he began to apply pressure, Felix leaned forward, purring in his ear.

“What’s important was how fucking amazing you were. My fierce co-pilot. We did so well.” He turned into the soft skin of his neck that was already turning colors to plant a soft kiss. “You did so well.

The purred words sent a jolt through Sylvain, but the visual of Felix slicking up his fingers were what finally weakened the last of his resolve. When those fingers unexpectedly brushed, then pressed against his sensitive hole he actually whimpered. It was remarkable, really, how easily Felix could lead Sylvain to believe he was the one in charge only to turn around and make him come undone.

"I did?" he asked coyly, batting his lashes. He couldn't decide whether to arch back into Felix's touch or forward to grind against him and decided to let the indecision show on his face as he slowly chewed his lip. Impatient fingers slid to unceremoniously jerk Felix's pants down and Sylvain grasped at his hard cock, desperate.

"And what about my ferocious, sexy co-pilot? Don't you think he deserves a reward, too?"

It was becoming increasingly, alarmingly easy even, to lose himself when faced with the full brunt of Sylvain’s raw magnetism. Felix bucked into his hand when his calloused hands grasped his shaft and keened at the sultry tone. Barely capable of anything other than base reactions, Felix hungrily mouthed at Sylvain’s neck, teasing his hole wanting to draw out his sweet whimpers more and more.

Sylvain lunged forward again to kiss Felix, drawing his swollen bottom lip into his own mouth to suck on it while he tried to quell the fluttering in his chest. He never felt things during sex, and he wasn't about to start now. Instead of thinking, he busied himself with dragging a hand through Felix's hair, the other falling to his hip.

"Tell me what you want," he breathed against Felix’s lips, messy and hot.

Sylvain was a man who wielded power, and that power now seemed to extend to and include Felix. It was news to him that he wanted that. For someone who craved control in many aspects of their life, having someone to rely on, having someone make decisions on his behalf...Felix wanted to cede that power to him.

Dull nails scraped up Sylvain’s back, both of Felix’s hands at the nape of his neck. He was certain he looked absolutely wrecked: panting, hips grinding against Sylvain’s, lips moving unrelentingly, sharing the same breath. Felix met Sylvain’s heated gaze and offered a desperate plea.

“Fill me. Please. I need you.”

That Felix had meant to correct himself with ‘it’ was forgotten in the moment.

I need you.

That word, need—had Sylvain ever heard Felix say he needed anything, let alone admit it in that voice? The thought made his stomach clench and he slipped his own fingers into his mouth to slick them up, a heavy blush painting his cheeks.

He pondered the word choice a moment longer while he reached down to probe Felix's entrance, working first one, then two fingers inside and curling them in the way he now knew Felix liked. Loved? Perhaps he needed more data. Sylvain smirked a little and pressed harder, testing his hypothesis.

What did he, himself, need? Sylvain had no idea where to even start with that question in general but in the moment, the answer was: Felix.

It hadn’t occurred to Felix that he could be jealous of fingers, but the ones in Sylvain’s mouth in the moment made that possibility crystal clear. The deep red flush on his cheeks clashed terribly with his hair and watching him felt like staring into the face of the goddamn sun.

Those very same fingers went to claim their prize within the deepest part of Felix. When those fingers curled with purpose against his tight wall, his legs turned to jelly, forcing Felix to grip along Sylvain's broad back. He let out a breathy moan, pulling himself to meet the other’s lips in a deep kiss, whimpering into his mouth.

When Felix had demanded earlier which parts of him Sylvain missed the most, he'd been too shocked to answer. Now, he was pretty sure it was the whimpers, the tiny gasps and soft sighs he pulled from Felix with so little effort. He grinned wickedly against rosy, kiss-swollen lips and slid his hand to the back of Felix's thigh to lift it up.

Unlike the first time, Sylvain didn't bother to ask whether or not Felix was ready; that much had already been made perfectly clear. He positioned the tip of his cock at Felix's entrance and, proud of his timing, thrust into him just as he fully withdrew his fingers. He clenched his jaw and exhaled hard, not stopping until he was fully inside. Then he fixed Felix with a look of wide-eyed awe; Sylvain didn't think he'd ever stop being amazed by him.

As if he were bridle-trained, when Sylvain’s initial touch trailed down his ass and thigh, Felix hitched up his leg immediately, pliant in his grasp.

Felix was busy relishing the sensations of Sylvain’s dexterous fingers when they were unceremoniously removed. Before he had the inclination to utter a single syllable of complaint, Sylvain’s aim hit true in the center of him. Felix let out a high-pitched yelp that mellowed to a groan as his thighs quivered, fingernails leaving shallow trails of blood at Sylvain’s shoulders. His head fell forward, turning into Sylvain’s neck, babbling his name amid incoherent curses.

Sylvain inhaled sharply at the sensation of sharp nails digging into his flesh and bucked harder into Felix in response, his own fingertips scrabbling for purchase along the other's sweat-slick skin. His mind whirled and his senses exploded as he drove relentlessly into the smaller man, heedless of the buttons on the comm panel behind him.

Felix,” he groaned, hissing out the last syllable. He knew he was probably leaving bruises with his grip but he didn't care; he was the only one who would ever see them. And damn if that thought didn't send a little thrill through Sylvain. He dipped his head down to Felix's neck, refreshing the fading marks he'd left behind the other day.

Felix was getting fucked twelve ways to Sunday. And he was loving every second of it.

His voice rang out, bouncing off the walls of the cockpit. Somewhere far off, he heard Mia chiming in regarding the commands that his back was entering, but they were all lost on Felix. His focus was on the man driving continuously up into him, shaping Felix’s body to a perfect mold. The thought alone sent shivers down his spine as he continued crying out as Sylvain hit against the bundle of nerves.

The feeling along his back against the unforgiving metal felt as much pleasure as pain. Stretching his neck, he opened himself up further, more room for Sylvain’s anything. He held on tightly to his partner, cock trembling and already leaking between their sweat-soaked bodies.

“Syl-vain …yes.”

Sylvain uttered a silent apology to the jaeger's AI as he sucked a particularly large bruise into Felix's neck, tugging at the skin gently with his teeth. Mia deserved better than what they were doing to her, but on the other hand, Felix deserved...

He clumsily wound a hand into Felix's hair and pulled, jerking his head back to further expose his neck. Hair-pulling had never really been his thing—women tended to bitch about it too much, even no-nonsense jaeger pilot types—but in the moment, trying to touch every part of his co-pilot that he possibly could, it felt like the only correct move.

"Sylvain what?" he growled, grazing his teeth and tongue over the thrumming pulse in Felix's neck.

Nature conditioned certain behaviors, especially when it came to base instincts of self-preservation. Due to its vital importance, it was a natural desire to to protect one’s neck. The inverse was also true: a desire to target the neck if one was looking to attack.

From their first encounter, it seemed as if both Sylvain and Felix were comfortable enough trading places. One and then the other, seamlessly showing force and soothing over the otherwise aggressive behavior. The juxtaposition of Sylvain’s brute force with the tenderness he possessed was incredible and set Felix’s senses ablaze.

The growl that accompanied the firm tug of his scalp was electric. Felix arched his back, pressing down on Sylvain’s cock. Eyeing him from under dark lashes, Felix let out a hiss followed by a sultry moan, daring his partner to take what they both wanted.

M-more, Sylvain. More.

“More? " Sylvain breathed in response to the moan. This was an interesting development, and one that he filed away for later use. He scraped blunt nails over Felix's scalp, wrapping his fingers around silky strands and pulling roughly just as he bit down on the tender, unblemished expanse of Felix's collarbone. He closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him: the tight clenching heat around his cock, the humid air of the cockpit, every delicious sound he was wringing out of Felix.

The bucking of his hips became more erratic as he drew closer to the edge, every nerve, every fiber of his being alight. Echoes of what Sylvain had said the first time they slept together came ringing back: What are you doing to me?

He still didn't know, but all he cared to know at the moment was fucking Felix into the console without breaking the other man's spine or tearing out all his hair—at least he wasn't too far gone to care about those things.

The nails in his scalp, the sweet sting from the fistful of hair, the scrape of pearly white teeth, and an especially angled thrust—he didn’t even have time to scream Sylvain’s name. Felix’s orgasm crashed over him in an instant with a collection of carnal vocalizations and he spasmed impossibly tighter against his lover’s relentless thrusts.

Because at this point, even at the edge of being fucked to within an inch of his sanity, Felix couldn’t deny there being a deeper connection. Unfortunately or fortunately for him, time would tell.

The world vanished for a moment as Sylvain came deep inside Felix, whining a broken version of his name over and over, arms tightening around his lover's waist like a vise. He wasn't quite sure what it was about Felix, but he'd now had three orgasms that made him feel like his soul had left his goddamn body and he was thoroughly confused.

Satisfied, but confused. He gave a shaky little laugh and released Felix's hair to stroke his cheeks, kiss his forehead.

"That was. Wow." He felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest, and he hoped it would.

And if Felix thought he had felt impossibly full before, he was indeed mistaken. He felt Sylvain come in pulses, an oddly warm sensation…that was amplified elsewhere when his face was gently held.

His head lolled forward into the plush lips as he came down from the white out high he had just experienced. Breathing heavily and adrenaline ebbing away, he shifted his weight against the panels that just registered as painful.

Tss ...yeah. That.”

When he leaned forward against Sylvain’s chest like he had that first night, Felix felt the wild pounding of his heart and brought his hand up to rest on the left side.

“You’re not going to have a heart attack on me now, are you?”

"Oh, fuck, I came in you, I'm so sorry."

Sylvain panicked for a moment, looking for a cloth; fortunately, one was within (a very strained) arm's reach and he gently pulled out and wiped Felix clean. He pressed little strokes and kisses to Felix’s inner thigh before standing up again, having recovered physically.

Emotionally? He was fucked.

"I think I like you," he blurted out. "Like, like-you, like-you." There; it was out. At least he'd halfway figured out how to articulate his feelings, which for Sylvain was a damn fine start.

In his blissful afterglow, Felix processed things around him on a slight delay. He answered the first thing he heard with a ‘quick’ retort.

“Why are you apologizing? You’re cleaning up the mess and it’s not like I can get pregnant.”

Both of which were very true. The sensation, like so many of the others shown to him by Sylvain was novel and different; similar to the soft swipes and the kisses to his oversensitive flesh, Felix didn’t hate it. Far from it.

I think I like you.

What.

Eyes wide, palms against the panel at his back. Felix blurted out in similar fashion.

“You what?

Sylvain would have laughed at Felix's comment if he hadn't been so preoccupied with what to say next. Had Felix hated it, did he want confirmation, or did he just not hear?

Taking a chance on either of the latter two being true, he leaned in close to press a kiss to Felix's cheek and murmured, "You heard what I said. I really like you."

His hands traveled down to rest on top of Felix's and he laced their fingers together, unused to this particular shade of anxiety.

Felix stared up at Sylvain with wide, anxious eyes. To have him look at Felix like that, those big, rich caramel eyes trained on only him was unlike anything else. This wasn't right. Something like this wasn't ever for someone like Felix.

'I adore you.'

I think I like you.’

'I really like you.'

His own fingers curled instinctively, intertwining with Sylvain's long, deft ones The same fingers that had brought him frustration and pain, but more pleasure and comfort than he could have ever imagined.

"Why?"

The question, the fucking word was out of his mouth before he had a chance to do anything about it. That's all he needed was for Sylvain to reconsider his already crazy idea of liking Felix. Much less the crazier idea of really liking him.

Felix's face colored a dusty rose, but he refused to look away.

Inwardly, Sylvain began to panic. The question was unexpected and if he was being honest with himself, he had no fucking idea why he felt so drawn to Felix. He'd always been...kind of an asshole to Sylvain. Well, to everyone. And yet here they were, having done a complete 180.

Why the fuck did he like Felix, anyway?

"You're honest. And I know you don't really joke, but you're kind of funny even if you don't think so. And you're tough as hell. And I don't know if you've seen what you look like, but..."

He forced himself to shut up for once in his life and tried to shut his brain up, too.

If it were hard to tell before or something that wasn't assumed to be abundantly clear, Felix couldn't take compliments. That Sylvain said such things...that he actually thought such things. That Sylvain felt that way about Felix...it was far more than he ever imagined. Though if he were being honest, it was more comfortable than he had envisioned.

Feeling emboldened by the subject or the security he felt from the man, Felix spoke in a low murmur. The coy gaze he attempted to pull off would have been successful were it not for the genuine look Sylvain was giving him.

Felix let out a dry huff of laughter. "Sylvain. Are you trying to say you find me sometimes funny and attractive?"

Felix's look of pure incredulity and his sardonic, disbelieving laugh drew an even warmer smile and look from Sylvain. He reached out and touched the other man's cheek gently, then tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

"What I'm trying to say, Fe, is that I often find you funny and always attractive. Is that so hard to believe?"

The question slipped out easily, even though Sylvain knew good and goddamn well how difficult it was to believe good things about yourself. He tilted his head to one side, eyes intense and hopeful.

Seeing Sylvain’s genuine smile was enough to make his knees buckle. Felix leaned into his touch, facilitating the small move, sharing his gaze.

“Yeah. It is.”

Again with the goddamn just word vomit.

And he wasn’t wrong. It would be a lie if he answered any differently… that didn’t mean he couldn’t have stayed fucking silent.

Felix raised his hand, cupping Sylvain’s large paw against his cheek, nuzzling into it. “…I’m glad though.”

The nuzzling just about broke Sylvain's heart and he pressed his hand to Felix's cheek, reveling in the warmth he found there. Feelings were...not something Sylvain did. Period. End of story. But now, he found himself helplessly swept up in the tide, pulled down with Felix's undertow. And he would happily drown a thousand times over.

"I'm glad you're glad." Sylvain breathed a sigh of relief, the threat of horrendous rejection now past. He was pretty sure he knew how Felix felt about him—the near-radio silence for almost a day after he'd apparently made a terrible faux pas was proof enough—but he needed to hear it.

"So," he crooned, lowering his lashes, "how do you feel about me?"

In the moments, minutes, days prior, when needed, Felix acted and reacted with his instincts. Here…well, he didn’t know any better here.

So fuck it.

Felix crossed their arms, entangling their limbs. His calloused palms took hold of Sylvain’s face, dragging him down to eyes level to press a chaste, soft kiss to his lips.

“I feel…a lot about you.”

The gentle flutter of the kiss made Sylvain melt. He wasn't used to his sexual partners acting this way toward him, and if anyone had asked him the last time he was in any sort of relationship, he couldn't tell them. But right now, with Felix naked in his arms and pressing delicate little kisses to his lips, he'd be god-damned if he didn't feel something.

"Like what?" he pressed, knowing that he was trying his luck. He was notorious for not talking about his feelings in any way, shape, or form. But Sylvain hoped to catch him off guard, to hear he was worth more than his dick or various holes.

Felix stared at Sylvain as he let his hands fall to the nape of his neck. The embarrassment he felt now stemmed not from how he felt, but if he deserved to feel that way at all.

Over the last few days, Felix had had become uncomfortably aware of this ill-defined feeling. Before that, in just under thirty-odd years of life, he understood certain things were just not meant for him. Wide-leg pants, corduroy, country music. Many things, companionship being one of them. Anything more than that was a far off concept that Felix had never equated with himself.

But there was Sylvain. Always insistent, ever-present, forcing Felix to take notice and account. As he did now with his question, Sylvain demanded answer, he deserved the truth.

His hands fell even lower, grasping at Sylvain’s sides as if he were taking measure of the man right in the moment, grounding himself and Sylvain for the impact of his next statement. When Felix looked up, capturing his eyes, he showed fear.

“Safe and comfortable. Like you’re a piece of me.” He shook his head giving his private thoughts life. “I know that’s stupid to say but you asked.”

Sylvain deserved better than to have the angry blister that was Felix affixed to him…but this was something he wanted, was it not? Was it something Felix could dare want for himself? The thought alone paralyzed Felix with fear.

Sylvain's cheeks colored at the admission. Safe. Comfortable. Neither of these were things he'd ever felt himself, let alone made someone else feel. And that Felix thought it was stupid to feel those things, to want to feel those things...his heart twisted and he reached out again, cupping Felix's face in both of his hands this time.

Like you're a piece of me.

This time, Sylvain thought his heart might have actually stopped. He looked down at his partner with wide and wondering eyes, stroked a thumb across his cheekbone with something like genuine affection.

"I. You. A piece of you. Fe, I..."

I feel the same and I'm a fucking coward who can't admit it.

Miklan's voice: Do it, you pussy. Do something for once in your miserable life.

Sylvain exhaled hard.

"I don't know how, but you've gotten under my skin. Completely. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to get you out."

Felix watched warily as seemingly several thoughts and emotions were telegraphed through Sylvain’s face. The fear of saying too much, of being too open, too weak doused Felix in a tidal wave of icy reality as dread kicked in.

Before he could begin his apology, featuring ‘never mind me ’ tour, Sylvain took Felix’s face in his hands. Cheeks smushed just enough to cause his lips to protrude, he looked from side, to Sylvain, to the other side, and back again. The broken, sorta-repeated answer offered no additional clues. However, Felix’s ears perked up when Sylvain managed to wrangle back his mastery of the English language.

Stuck in the moment as well as his hands, Felix regarded Sylvain with a nervous curiosity, not wanting the answer but dying to ask the question.

“And that’s bad…you want me out?” He loosened the grip against Sylvain’s sides. Felix wasn’t an angry surface blister. No, he was an infection.

"No," Sylvain whispered, "I really don't. That's the thing, Fe. I want you. You. "

It was a terrifying admission but Sylvain did his best not to show it, tried his hardest to keep his expression warm instead of frightened. But though he had an awful feeling that all of his feelings were laid bare across his face, he couldn't look away from Felix. His brows furrowed; he gulped and swallowed panic; he spoke again.

"But I don't know what you meant or what you really want so it's okay if you don't feel the—Jesus, I'm sorry, I." He wanted to pull away, wanted to run, but he was trembling now.

*

He needed to wake up.

Felix needed to wake the fuck up. This was a cruel joke of a dream. That someone had come to want him for the sole purpose of…just himself.

The painfully soft, whispered words pierced through Felix’s very core. The panicked words, Sylvain’s shifting eyes, nervous tics, they all came too fast.

If there was a gap that had existed before, it surely was closed. Felix moved his arms, wrapping them snugly around Sylvain. Turning his head, his ear sat against his chest again, hearing the thudding that now matched the pace of his own erratic heartbeat.

“Stop saying sorry. I don’t want your apologies. Just you. With…me.”

The sense of relief and security that washed over Sylvain made him weak in the knees and he clutched Felix to his chest, grasping at him like a drowning man. He wanted him. Felix wanted him. Sylvain the fuckup. Sylvain the slut. And yet...

"What do we call this?" His voice was soft and low as he spoke into Felix's ear. "What are we? What...what do you want us to be?"

Felix burrowed closer, wanting to feel all of him against all of Sylvain. The voice that next spoke was soft and low, one filled with hopeful trepidation. If Felix had any idea of what to call any of this, he likely wouldn’t have had the need to fight against the current they were apparently both being swept up by.

He shook his head against Sylvain’s chest. “I don’t know what to call this, Sylvain. You’re you, I’m me. I don’t want that to change.”

But what he wanted was the last question. He had an answer for that.

Felix paused, gathering himself with a shaky breath. When he spoke, it was directed downward at their cooling skin.

“Together.”

Sylvain was pretty sure that if his eyes widened any more they'd have a terrible mess to clean up later, so instead he squeezed them shut. It felt like Felix was literally trying to crawl inside him, and truth be told, he didn't mind.

Together. All of Sylvain's past experience with togetherness had been fleeting. Get each other off, then get the fuck out. That was all, and that was all he wanted. But now, holding Felix close, hearing his soft breaths, feeling their hearts beating in tandem.

"I want that too, Fe. Together. "

 

Chapter 7: Between "Like" and "Love"

Summary:

So instead, he breathed a simple question into Felix's ear. 

"What's a word for something in between like and love ?"

Chapter Text

For violating MSJDP sections 9.45 (b-f), 18.62 (a), and 44.1(k)1, the recruits will be assigned to unique and separate deployment units.

"Military tribunal, hmph. My fucking ass. We weren't even allowed to defend ourselves!" 

Hours later, the two had returned to Sylvain's room. Though he sat hugging his knees, Felix was doing a poor job of calming himself, still more than steamed about their punishment. Yeah, sure, okay. They fucked in their jaeger. Yeah, okay. Maybe they didn't return to base immediately after the mission's end. Give them a slap on the wrist! Give them latrine duty, make them scrub everything, who the fuck cared?!

But instead the judges tribunal, in their infinite wisdom, chose to break apart a battle-proven successful jaeger pilot pair. Felix was biased, of course, but this change? It was to everyone's detriment. This wasn't even about the sex. He and Sylvain had come so far, made so many strides in learning and perfecting themselves, which only propelled them to greatness as a duo. But no. The tribunal's fucking will be done.

And so they had received their penance. Now, they just had to wait to see who their new partners would be. The time was nearing.

He let out a hiss of air through his clenched teeth as he looked at Sylvain. 

"You know this is bullshit, right?"

"Oh, definitely. And it's fucking inspiringly stupid on their part. I mean, we king-hit that bastard in, like, record time."

"Record-fucking-time! And you saw the stats, it was nearly a Cat 4."

None of it made sense. They were coming together so well. And holy shit why did everything need to be an innuendo? If Felix was thinking more logically, there was probably some good about not defending themselves about 'working hard,' 'putting in overtime,' 'coming together'...

It was all Sylvain's fault, really. Yeah, we fucked in the jaeger, twice, he'd blurted out anxiously, as usual exhibiting very rare honesty to his own detriment. It was why he never did it.

In reality, it was because the tribunal had cameras and Sylvain fucking Felix soundly into the control panel had set off not one but several alerts to the base.

"Who do you think they're gonna give us?" he asked, sliding a comforting arm around Felix's shoulders. 

Felix grew slack as Sylvain's arm wrapped around him and rested against his side with his head on his shoulder. 

"I don't know...someone that we've worked with before? Do you think they would be in a team? Maybe they are making two new teams? Like Dedue and Ashe?" 

That would make sense...sort of--as long as you didn't get too hung up on the fact that you would be breaking up two established teams to form two new ones...

Looking up, Felix asked with a sigh, "What do you think? Who's going to be your co-pilot? Ashe or Dedue?"

"Either one wouldn't be so bad, honestly. I like both of them. Dedue scared the absolute shit out of me at first, but he's got a good heart to match his size. Ashe is a good kid. Cute, even. Like a baby brother. Don't you just want to pinch his cheeks?" 

Well, duh. Of course Ashe was adorable. Nearly their age, but the boy looked young. He could hold his own as well as any pilot, but there was something with his boyish charm that, yeah, you did just want to take him under your wing and maybe pinch his cheeks. Maybe.

Felix was going to tell Sylvain whose cheeks he could pinch if he wanted something to squeeze when jammed rustling sounded at the door. This was it.

Sylvain's smirk fell when a folio was jammed unceremoniously under his door. Whatever it was, he knew right down to his bones that it would be resplendently terrible. He opened it and removed a single piece of paper. With shaking hands, he began to read aloud.

For violating MSJDP sections 9.45 (b-f), 18.62 (a), and 44.1(k)1, the recruits will be assigned to unique and separate deployment units, effective immediately.

ADDENDUM: Recruit reassignments are as follows:

Sylvain Jose Gautier: Dorothea Arnault

Felix Hugo Fraldarius: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd

"Fuck. We're fucked, Fe."

Felix looked towards Sylvain. His face said it all. Any shred of optimism Felix might have fooled himself into having was eviscerated.

Dorothea Arnault and...Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. 

He was right. They were fucked. Soundly.

As soon as the names were read, Felix let out a bark of laughter before dropping his head into his hands to scrub at his face.

"That's great. This is great. Just fucking the best. You get Tits McGee and I get a fucking blast from the past. Goddamnit Is this some kind of sick joke?”

As he brushed aside the thought of Dorothea's tits for now, Sylvain asked with a single raised brow, "Blast from the past?" It was odd--he'd been inside Felix several times now and yet he knew so little about him. Time to remedy that.

Deciding to give Felix a moment to think he added, "Dorothea is probably smarter than she looks. But Christ, she's relentless and it's annoying. Can we trade? Please, Fe?" He looked at the other man with wide, pleading eyes.

Hands bracketing his head, Felix nodded. 

"We grew up together, practically family at one point."

Dimitri was like a second brother.

Dimitri was his first, second, third kiss and so on.

Dimitri was the one who tried to replace Glenn and Rodrigue after they died.

Dimitri was the one who almost took his virginity.

Felix's stomach tied in knots. He answered dully, "I don't think we can switch."

In an effort to avoid a very uncomfortable discussion about their shared history, he shifted the topic to Sylvain's new co-pilot with no small amount of jealousy.

"Smarter than she looks, huh? Pretty low bar, wouldn't you say?" 

This prompted a mental image of the ex-diva-turned-jaeger-cadet in her skin-tight suit, hugging every generous curve of her body...alone for...hours at a time with...Sylvain in his suit and...practicing maneuvers...feeling the rush of battle...the adrenaline. Felix's stomach turned. All at once he felt nauseous and angry and... ah . Envious.

Searching for something that wouldn't quite paint him immediately as idiotic, needy, and fucking crazy, Felix shook his head, settling on, "I'm sure you can give as good as you get. And anyways, she's probably better as a partner."

Felix stared ahead as his statement in its entirety registered. Felix wanted to retch.

"Felix," Sylvain said gently, "I'm not going to flirt with her. In case you haven't noticed, I haven't even looked at anyone else since Gallos." 

What he said was true; a mere month ago, he would have been over the moon about being paired with Dorothea and getting away from the former-asshole-known-as-Felix. But now, the thought of being paired with her, being hit on constantly in who knew how many different ways, made him feel sick. He drew close to Felix and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. 

"I would never do that to you."

Felix had noticed the lack of flirting. He (told himself he) was ready to deal with whatever came with the territory of being together with Sylvain. But all that had really amounted to was being ready for physical contact at any given moment. That was something that, surprisingly, Felix was eager to comply with.

He was being childish and shallow. Sylvain hadn’t given him a single hint of anything to worry about. And in reality, they hadn’t even discussed what was expected of their togetherness. That being said, Sylvain had the same preternatural sense for his feelings, addressing them before Felix could express himself.

Felix stretched out to encircle the man attached at his waist. Rubbing Sylvain’s arms, he reassured, bending his head in a kiss.

“I believe and trust you with my life.”

And everything else.

I trust you with my life.  

Felix had, in fact, trusted Sylvain with his life very recently, and Sylvain had done the same with him. He'd come to associate tender, intentional, sincere touches with Felix, and he liked it. Immensely. He returned the kiss and gently tugged the tie from Felix's hair, wishing he could watch as it fall like a dark silky curtain around his face. The feelings for everything--everything--about Felix were more intense than "like," but he was never going to say it first.

So instead, he breathed a simple question into Felix's ear. 

"What's a word for something in between like and love ?"

The tightly-pulled skin at his temples fell, relaxing as gravity intended when Sylvain undid his hair tie. Felix kept his head steady as his vision became increasingly dark. He let out a stream of air, puffing up his strands of hair in a wave, only seeing glimpses of the grinning fool at his side that he…hmm. The odd question was unexpected enough that the shiver from his sensitive skin died down unnoticed.

Running his hand through the loose strands, pushing his dark fringe out of his face, he tapped on Sylvain’s arm thoughtfully.

“What’s between like and love ?” 

That was a good question. Desire, yearning, passion? No, those were all simply adjacent, with no real midpoint…except…

He reached out, turning towards his ex-copilot, caressing his sun-kissed cheekbone.

“Adore?” He leaned over, kissing the side of his mouth. “Cherish? Am I getting close?”

"Cherish, adore, treasure...Fe, I would literally die for you, and I mean that. I wouldn't do that for anyone else, and I've never wanted to before."

Sylvain wet his lips nervously, but the half-lidded eyes were a silent reassurance. And the way Felix kissed him, not quite on the mouth, felt even more intimate than if he'd had his tongue down his throat and was trying to suck out his very soul. The only thing comparable was the Drift.

"Maybe not quite love, not yet. But close, I think."

Actions spoke louder than words. That was something Felix had always subscribed to, and he truly lived his life in that manner. Don’t just say something, do it. When your words become your word, that’s where it counts. Hearing Sylvain give his word with such devotion and dedication…no one had ever shown Felix anything of the kind. It wasn’t a shock to Felix that if needed, he would sacrifice himself for Sylvain without question. But hearing it declared for his own well-being and for no other reason? It blew him away because he believed him.

His features became pointed and severe when Sylvain finished. Turning into him, Felix leaned him back, climbing to his lap to speak seriously. Despite the creeping. 

“If you die before me and leave me alone, I will never forgive you.” Felix nosed at Sylvain’s own, finding his lips and cheeks, praising him between. “I adore you. You are my only cherished one. And I treasure you, Sylvain. Don’t be in a rush to take that away from me.”

Sylvain's eyes moistened at the words and he felt his pulse pick up just a little. It was completely unexpected from Felix--he wondered if the man had ever uttered those words in his entire life because they slipped out easily.

Or maybe that was because he actually meant them. He looked up into Felix's eyes, searching for clues, but was distracted by Felix easing him back gently, so gently, and climbing atop him. Sylvain's hands immediately went to his waist and he answered back softly in between kisses.

"I won't leave you, Fe. You're my person. You're the one. I'll be here for as long as you want me."

'I won’t leave you, Fe. You’re my person.

Felix leaned forward and took Sylvain’s head in his hands, kissing at his glassy eyes, around his temples, across his forehead.

You’re the one. I’ll be here for as long as you want me.

Everything he said, each and every word resonated within Felix on something of a fundamental level. A symbiotic connection only ever experienced as part of the Drift took over his senses. There was only his other.

Felix tilted Sylvain’s head up, watching as his hands caressed his handsome face.

“You better not. I can’t see not wanting you.”

"God damn," Sylvain breathed in wonder, "we're so lucky."

And that's all there was to say about it, really. They were both fucked up, but their baggage was compatible, at least. 

And while the reprimand had specified they would have new copilots, it did not say anything about fraternizing with other recruits. He smiled a little and turned his head to plant tiny pecks along Felix's palm and up to his wrist. 

More than anything, though, it was the wave of unexpected emotions. Sylvain had assumed for years that he was dead inside and that he was never going to be anything else. But simply being around Felix brought something out in him, something long-dormant, and he couldn't bear to imagine giving it up.

Chapter 8: No Gods, No Masters

Summary:

Felix bit his lip and furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

"Partners would've been perfect if we were still co-pilots. Now, it'll just be confusing as to what 'partner' we're referring to. Worst-case scenario, we could always get married. Husbands is hard to fuck up."

Chapter Text

Felix hummed quietly as he watched Sylvain kiss up and around his wrist. With so much physical devotion, such focus on everything that was Felix, how could he ever doubt his intentions? After all, it never should have been misplaced faith in Sylvain, but a failing of self. Felix was confident in most things; however, he had yet to master this arena. But in time and with Sylvain’s guidance, he would.

Sitting back, he tilted his head to the side and tucked his loose hair behind his ear before leaving slow, wet kisses up the column of Sylvain’s neck. For once, the goal not being to mark, rather, just enjoy and treasure the skin he was lucky enough to have beneath his lips. Between his languid drags, Felix purred praises directly to the man. 

“We are lucky, but you should see my view. Goddamn, you are a vision.”

While Sylvain was no stranger to praise, he couldn't remember the last time he'd received a compliment that was sincere. But the words falling from Felix's mouth made it impossible to doubt him. 

He braced himself for bites that never came. He also couldn't remember the last time anyone was so gentle with him, either. And for someone who was so new at this, Felix was doing a damn good job of merging tender and fierce.

Felix was articulate, however, utilizing the expansive vocabulary his status and station had afforded him wasn't his preference. Flowery language and anything ancillary to the rote facts were just extra, unnecessary things. But...when it was for Sylvain? When he was hovering above him? Felix would rethink that general policy.

"What I see is...A cluster of freckles that look like a 'Q'.” 

 Felix dipped his tongue against his earlobe and then pulled back, trailing his hands down the front of Sylvain's broad chest to stony abs.

"A body seemingly built to perfection."

On the way back up, he massaged his fingertips firmly into his left pec as he smirked, "But...this side is actually better."

Rather than sitting deeper onto what had yet to fail to make him cry out, Felix instead picked up his left hand, pressing kisses into his rough skin. Hands calloused over from toil, white and silver lines marking injuries that had long since healed over. 

"I see your hands that have held many things, many people, that somehow now hold me."

Felix chuckled into his palm before leaning back forward, tracing his lips with a drag of his fingertip.

"And these. Utterly, devastatingly attractive at rest or at work."

A sly smirk curled at his lips as he continued. 

"I see lips that have provided such pleasure both from their performance and the words you've decided somehow that I deserve."

As he felt his face more than adequately color, Felix rocked back on his heels, comfortably sitting back, stilling his hands at Sylvain's shoulders. 

"Parts and all, I still see you, Sylvain."

Felix had to know what the praise was doing to Sylvain but in case there was any doubt, he felt the backs of Felix's thighs rubbing against his rapidly hardening cock.

Shit. Sylvain was so fucked for him.

"I am completely, hopelessly, one-hundred-percent fucked for you," he murmured. He dropped his hands to rest chastely on his lover's thighs and offered up a beautiful, genuine smile.

"Hah, good."

The smile Sylvain received in return was nothing like the handsome expression his co-pilot wore. It was a small, anemic thing, yet it was a genuine smile nonetheless.

Felix reached out to grasp Sylvain's hands on his thighs, interlacing their fingers with a squeeze. With a deliberate drag of his hips, Felix moved deeply down, feeling the clear outline of Sylvain's hard dick. Using their hands as leverage, Felix repeated his slow actions back and forth, grinding his ass down on Sylvain.

Contrary to what was written all over his face, Sylvain thought he had never looked more attractive than in that moment: flushed cheeks, glowing eyes, hair mussed and falling over his forehead.

"God, you're insatiable,"  he groaned. "What are you doing?"

With a smirk, Felix answered simply, "No god here. Just me. I'm the insatiable one. You've made damn sure of that. As for what I'm doing...nothing you aren’t wanting,” he added with an especially slow drag of his hips.

No gods, no masters, Sylvain's overwrought mind babbled senselessly. He whimpered and tipped his head back at the slow grind and finally moved inward, pressing his thumbs into the sensitive junctures of Felix's hips and thighs.

"You're damn right about that one. Now get back down here and fuck me. Any way you like."  

Sylvain's voice was rough and he tugged lightly at Felix's hips, surprised at his own impatience. Each time they crashed together, diametric opposites propelled into the same orbit by sheer coincidence, Sylvain was overcome with an urgency he’d never experienced before and thought he never would again.

Felix met his demand with a flash of teeth and a shifting of his legs as he made short work of his clothes, baring himself to Sylvain before stripping him down as well. He pushed Sylvain down onto his back and knelt between his outstretched legs, taking the time to knead slowly into the taut muscles of his thighs, admiring his physique. In an appreciative growl, Felix answered finally, "Like this."

Sylvain's breath hitched at the rough treatment and he momentarily forgot how to breathe. Seeing a very naked, very aroused Felix hovering above him did little to help the matter and he made a small sound in the back of his throat as he felt himself twitch at the sight.

"Yeah? And then what?" 

Sylvain had always loved to goad his partners, to encourage them to use him, to take what they wanted, but with Felix it was different. With Felix, his desire didn't come from a place of self-loathing but reverence and, yes, adoration for the other man.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back with a long, shuddering sigh at the sensation of skillful fingers massaging his thighs. Another novelty, and another potential first; if someone had ever done this for Sylvain, he couldn't remember it. 

The range of noises he drew out of Sylvain drove Felix wild. One moment his voice was deep, gravelly, commanding; the next, small, light, breathless. Which side of the spectrum it turned out to be had no bearing on what it did to Felix. Each way, it was him that caused those reactions. The knowledge alone made him weak, spurring on more of his actions. As they did now.

The shuddering, broken sigh encouraged him to continue his  ministrations, squeezing into thickly muscled thighs. Felix worked his way lower before hooking his arms around Sylvain’s hips to hoist his legs up. Then, he added his mouth, sucking fast bruises into Sylvain's pale skin with a low moan.

Fuck, Sylvain had no idea his thighs could be that sensitive. Or maybe it was just that it was Felix who was doing this to him that was driving all of his senses to a fever pitch. He knew by now that Felix liked it when he was vocal, and Sylvain appreciated when he responded in kind.

When Felix's tongue and lips and teeth made contact, he flinched and sighed in pleasure. But when Felix outright moaned? Sylvain's back arched upward at an impossible angle. Felix was taking him apart and he'd barely even touched him yet.

He looked down, panting, and ran a hand through Felix's hair in silent encouragement.

For as tall and built as he was, the way in which he bent and angled his back was impressive. His reaction plus the coaxing hand in his loose hair spurred him on further. The responsiveness under his hands was incredible; that alone sent waves of pleasure straight to his cock.

Felix crawled up and over Sylvain's body like a stalking jungle cat, licking and nipping at the taut skin of his abdomen and sides. When he arrived at Sylvain’s chest he lavished his nipples with attention, licking, nipping, sucking, pinching...all to tease and see Sylvain's reactions.

Watching Felix prepare to pounce was always exciting--Sylvain wasn't sure if he knew it, but the man was fucking hot in the moments leading up to whatever his surprisingly filthy mind had planned.

He let one hand wander down to the nape of Felix's neck and tightened his fingers around it, urging him on. 

"Fuck, yeah, like that." 

Yet another body part that had been neglected for far too long, although Sylvain was beyond pleased that he still had a few firsts left for Felix to discover.

At Sylvain’s squeeze, Felix groaned and topped his actions off with an especially vicious pull of his teeth at the rosy, swollen flesh.. Since the day in the jaeger…the first time , Felix had wanted to be inside Sylvain. He regarded Sylvain with hunger and spoke through wet, puffy lips.

“Lube.”

Sylvain returned the hungry gaze and sank pearly teeth into his own slightly swollen bottom lip. At least he'd remembered to put the lube in the bedside table after...the first time. Their first time, when he'd been so impossibly  deep inside Felix, drinking in his little moans and gasps, almost like hiccups.

He bit down harder. Fuck, he was getting himself wound up, and the last thing he needed to do was fantasize about the past when he had Felix right in front of him, naked and hard. And, apparently, desperate to fuck him. With unsteady hands, he passed the bottle to Felix and looked up at him through his lashes.

"And now what?"

Seeing Sylvain as he was, hot and bothered, teeth dug into his lip, squirming underneath only spurred Felix on. 

“And now,” he purred, lining kisses down his body. “I take care of you.”

Realigning himself between his outstretched thighs, Felix popped open the bottle to slather his fingers. Without hesitation, he brought his fingers down, finding Sylvain’s entrance and pressing into it lightly. Whether it was the lube, or that they had done this already in the jaeger, or some combination thereof, first one, then two knuckles sank into his tight muscles easily. Instinctively, Felix’s eyes went to Sylvain’s to watch for any signs of discomfort.

If Felix was looking for pain on Sylvain's face, there was none to be found--only pure, nearly blinding pleasurable pressure that made his mouth fall open and his eyes go wide and his breath catch halfway up his throat. 

That, and the promise that he would take care of Sylvain. Being taken care of...it was something he'd given up on wanting for himself. He'd thrown that desire away years ago, burned it to the ground, and yet here it was again all the same. 

Felix seemed to have a talent for bringing things back from the dead.

"More," he said simply, squeezing around Felix's fingers intentionally just to see what would happen.

Even in this brand new realm of sexual exploration, let it never be said Felix didn't do his due diligence.

The impertinent squeeze around his finger made Felix's eyes go wide and narrow by turns. He pressed his weight into Sylvain’s greedy body and began to move his fingers at a bruising pace.

As Felix curled his fingers, so did his lips. For as much as Sylvain spoke, and spoke a lot he did , he rarely spoke of things for himself. That here, he would trust Felix enough to ask or demand actions simply to achieve his own pleasure, it sent a thrill through Felix that wasn't simply carnal in nature. But something else entirely.

"Fuck, Fe," Sylvain ground out through clenched teeth as a second finger was added. While they'd done this before, it was different now--lube, of course, and a nice soft bed, but there were no restraints, no stale cockpit air...

And there were feelings now. Feelings he didn't have to be afraid of, because he knew they were reciprocated. Sylvain exhaled slowly at the sharp, delicious curl of Felix's fingers inside him. He trailed his own fingers up from Felix's waist with a delicate touch, lingering on the hard muscles of his abdomen before moving up to grasp at his pecs.

He looked up at his partner through dark, heavy-lidded eyes as he thumbed over Felix's nipples. 

"I like these," he said simply.

Knuckles deep in Sylvain, who was now keening with every twitch of his fingers, Felix bit his lip to suppress the grin that threatened to spread. Felix had an uncontroverted air of confidence. Even during their first time--coincidentally his own first--he approached the task at hand, even if he was completely clueless.

Especially if he was completely clueless.

Fast forward to the present. Already, being with Sylvain had given him actual confidence. From his partner’s body's natural reactions, Felix had learned (and was continuing to find out) more and more about what made his Sylvain tick, what he desired. And Felix was more than eager to oblige. He let out a soft moan as he resumed his pace, preparing to offer a third finger.

“Yeah?” he panted. “Just those?”

How Felix could sound so calm at a time like this boggled the mind, but that sly little smile he was trying so desperately to hide gave him away. Sylvain was preparing a retort to tease him when a third digit slipped inside and he choked on his words.

"There, there, more," he pleaded for a moment before centering himself again. Focus. He wasn't done with Felix, and he knew Felix wasn't anywhere near done with him. After biting down hard on his tongue for a moment, he responded to the question.

"No, not just those," he purred, though his voice was still unsteady. "I like lots of different things. I like all of you." 

He pushed against Felix's fingers with a moan, distracting himself by thumbing over the small buds hardening rapidly beneath his fingers.

Felix drank in the wanton words as he angled his fingers to there, there as directed. Were his face not already flushed with effort and exertion, it would have colored at Sylvain's words. Again, the man would somehow manage to seep praise into Felix's very fiber, filling him with a happiness he was yet unsure he deserved.

Felix paused his motions, grinding his fingers into Sylvain, his outstretched hand knuckling into the sheets. Soft moans escaped his mouth as more attention was paid to his chest. Looking up at Sylvain through lidded eyes, Felix choked out his next words.

"All of me...?"

"Yes, Fe, all of you."

For a moment, the incredible pleasure Felix was drawing from him faded away and all that was left was Sylvain's heart. He slid his left hand up to the man's face and caressed his cheekbone tenderly. His pathetic bleeding heart, laid bare, and yet Felix still wanted him. Gorgeous glowing amber eyes staring down at him, that hair falling around his face...

He wished he could tell Felix just how much about him there was to like--and more--but Sylvain didn't think there would ever be enough time. Panting softly, slowly becoming aware of Felix's fingers once more, he shifted his hips with a whimper. While Sylvain loved to talk, he'd always secretly thought he was much better at nonverbal communication.

No more words. Felix didn’t think he could take hearing one more heart-wrenching word from Sylvain.

Felix turned away from his enchanting gaze into the hand that so gently caressed his cheek. He nuzzled against the outstretched palm, dragging his lips across the hardened skin, breathing out Sylvain’s name. Without warning, he withdrew his fingers, hand immediately going to uncapping the bottle, coating his throbbing length before lining himself up and pressing into Sylvain in one labored thrust. He fell forward, a long groan accompanying his movements as he curled his abdomen down to clash his hips against Sylvain’s.

Any other words Sylvain might have had evaporated as Felix began to slide into him, not stopping until their hips were pressed together. For a moment he didn't move, content to admire Felix's handsome face above him, the way his lashes fluttered and his mouth fell open as though he were surprised by the sensations of sheathing himself in Sylvain’s body. 

What was the right thing to do in this moment? Sylvain's mind was spinning with possibilities. Gentle sex was a rarity. And something like this? It was so new that he didn't have any idea what to call it.

He rolled his hips upward in leisurely drags, struggling to keep his eyes open. This was a sight he'd be damned if he was going to miss. But it was becoming more difficult with each thrust. He could feel his cock leaking and throbbing between them and made a series of small keening sounds into Felix's neck. Then, he looped his leg around Felix's waist and drew him closer, closer, until they were chest to chest.

Never before in his life had Felix felt so utterly connected as when Sylvain folded himself around him. As he began to move above Sylvain, looking down into his eyes, he came to the startling realization that their connection was far deeper than a physical one.

His eyes began to well up and sting. Oh for fuck’s sake… Felix’s face burned. He buried his face in the crook of Sylvain’s neck, as he moved desperately against his partner, hips working in and out. There was a rawness in their fevered skin-to-skin contact as well as the moans and the ragged breaths he delivered into his ear. Felix scrubbed for Sylvain’s hand, grabbing it and forcing it down into the sheets and interlacing their fingers.

“Sylvain…I…”

Sylvain accepted the touch willingly, grounding himself in the sensation of Felix's strong fingers wrapped around his, the steady rhythm of Felix's hips that made him cry out wantonly with every skillful stroke. He wondered at how the other was so good at anticipating his desires, his needs without even being asked. He felt his own eyes well up with tears and blinked them back, confused and overwhelmed.

His neck suddenly felt wet. He turned his head in surprise and nosed at Felix's damp cheek, planting kisses along the side of his face as best he could.

"Yeah, Fe?" 

The pounding in his chest while he waited bordered just this side of uneasiness, the only comfort coming in the form of Felix's heart racing against his.

The sweet half kisses to the side of his head was a lot. The soft voice and the way he said his name was a lot of a lot. The way Sylvain’s heart beat against his chest, that was too much.

“I don’t like you.”

His heart ached acutely as he continued thrusting in and out, carving himself deeper and deeper into Sylvain. His moans, wet and raspy against Sylvain’s skin bled into whimpers of effort as he was careening towards an unknown ledge…

…I think I might love you."

Sylvain tensed at the first sentence, every muscle in his body going rigid and still. At that moment, he realized what the tears were for: bitterness. For rejection. For loss. For unrequited love, and he was well and truly fucked if that's what this was.

I think I might love you.

He stopped breathing entirely for a moment, then redoubled his efforts to thrust up and against Felix with everything he had.

Love. What the fuck. He felt as though he might pass out.

Love.

"Fe," he stammered as his lover rammed into him, making him see stars. Then, just as he tipped over the edge and came with a harsh cry: "I love you, too."

'Fe. I love you, too.'

That was it. He loved Sylvain. And he was loved back.

With a strangled cry, Felix’s hips moved with abandon, slamming into his lover, clutching at him until he felt Sylvain tighten around him in a staccato. Felix saw white as his orgasm crashed over him. He felt the stickiness lining their bodies, the mess between Sylvain’s cheeks, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He loved Sylvain and Sylvain loved him back.

The sensation of Felix coming in pulsing waves, filling him up, momentarily took away Sylvain's ability to speak. He buried his face into Felix's neck and moaned, spine arching and body convulsing as a shiver ran through him.

After, he tangled his fingers in Felix's hair and pulled him down, kissing him ferociously in between words and small, euphoric chuckles that intensified as soft kisses tickled his shoulder.

"You. How do you do this to me, every time?" Sylvain sighed. "I hope you know--" A pause, a peck. "That you've ruined me thoroughly forever and I'm happy."

Sylvain had, thankfully, not added for everyone to that sentence, because now he didn't want anyone else. He wanted Felix to be his last. His brows furrowed as he tried to process the strange mix of emotions; coming up empty for now, he placed a soft little kiss against his partner's temple. Maybe he should say it independent of sex, too, so Felix wouldn't think he only said it because he made Sylvain come.

"Love you, Fe," he murmured, and meant it.

Felix moved easily with the insistent forearm directing his head, smiling into each kiss that moonlighted as a punctuation mark for Sylvain. The shy chuckle that came afterwards sounded foreign to his own ears. The warm blush that spanned his cheeks, well... that was becoming a fucking mainstay with the man.

If it were possible, the kiss and low rumbles delivered directly to his temples only served to relax the man even more, nuzzling closer, not in a hurry to extricate himself. 

"Good. I'm glad."

As their chests began to return to their normal rise and fall, Felix had time to take account of the situation he could scarcely believe. He’d blurted out the “L” word mid-fucking-- mid-fucking. And not only was it accepted, but it was reciprocated. Felix held on tighter to Sylvain to ground himself in the moment

“Love you back.”

"You are full of surprises," Sylvain breathed as he tightened his arms around Felix and inhaled his comforting scent. They'd all been issued the same everything upon recruitment, down to the same cheap bar of green soap, and yet it smelled different on him. But then, he was quickly learning that everything was different about Felix.

He was reluctant to pull away, but his leg was beginning to cramp and the wetness between them (and his ass) was beginning to get uncomfortable. Swinging his other leg up to steady Felix, he rolled them over onto their sides and fumbled behind him for a box of tissues.

Sylvain's movements were unhurried as he cleaned both of them up, pausing occasionally to steal little glances at Felix or plant a kiss to his neck or hip or cheek. 

"Guess that answers the 'what are we' question, huh?" he murmured, smiling fondly down at the other man.

"Woah--!"

Rolling to their sides, Felix loosened his grip on Sylvain, letting him move freely. The way that Sylvain tended to them, the soft kisses, and the quick smiles shared, it all felt terribly domestic. Or, at least what he assumed domesticity included. Never quite remembering how his mother and father interacted, this sweetness and such unabashed care was something wholly foreign to Felix. But...he didn't mind it.

He was scared admitting the feelings he realized all too late that had taken root in his heart for the man. He was still trying to make sense of it when everything just bubbled over...to the best-case scenario.

Looking up, Felix reached, letting his fingers trail down Sylvain's taut skin. "Tell me the answer." He had said 'I love you' first; Sylvain should be the one now.

An icy chill ran down Sylvain's spine at the question; he'd never been the one to define the relationship, unless it was in the context of We're breaking up. And now, he wanted just the opposite. The soothing stroking of Felix's fingers calmed him and after taking a moment to process, to strategize, to figure out how to not fuck something up for once, he spoke.

"Well, I'd say we're a 'thing' now," he began, separating a section of hair near the front of Felix's head and starting to braid. He kept his eyes trained on his partner's face, but it was comforting to have something to do with his hands in his horrifying time of vulnerability and need. "I don't know what terms you prefer--boyfriend? Lover? Paramour ?" Sylvain flashed a quick, cheeky wink.

He finished the braid quickly, deft fingers weaving in and out of silky strands, and then smiled. Felix looked fucking ridiculous with his bangs braided.

To his credit, even Felix got that the last one was supposed to be a joke. And to keep things per usual, he still treated it seriously. Unimpressed, Felix deadpanned, "I am not going to be your fucking paramour."

They were officially 'a thing'. The question of what to call each other though, that was a curious one. He'd never had a title as it pertained to a relationship...obviously the fact of never being in a relationship previously shining through. But...the thought of having one, of it being known it was theirs and theirs alone...that excited Felix.

After Sylvain gave up his braiding attempt, and not a moment too soon, his hair had no texture to speak of, it would never hold, Felix laid back, giving voice to his thought process. " Lovers sounds a bit contrived, but that's not inaccurate. Boyfriends is pretty basic, but again, not inaccurate."

Felix bit his lip and furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

"Partners would've been perfect if we were still co-pilots. Now, it'll just be confusing as to what 'partner' we're referring to. Worst-case scenario, we could always get married. Husbands is hard to fuck up."

Sylvain frowned at the memory of losing his copilot, but the bright spot was that he'd gained...whatever they were trying to label at the moment. That thought led him to wondering whether Felix had been trying to stake his claim earlier, assert his dominance over Sylvain's new co-pilot. He gave a little half-smile at the idea.

"Boyfriends is basic as fuck, and we're cooler than that. Give me a minute, I've got this..."

He clicked his tongue and tapped his fingers lightly against Felix's chest while he silently panicked. Again. Husbands. He knew Felix was just teasing him but damn, if he hadn't just about had a stroke from that comment...

"Or we could call each other husbands without getting married. It'd be cute! And it'd really  fuck with the tribunal."

Husbands.

Felix’s eyes widened with, among other things, shock that Sylvain would even think to entertain the idea. He felt the high apples of his cheeks color as he shared a sly smirk with his…Sylvain.

“I don’t hate the idea of fucking with the tribunal. But, I think so would ‘partners.’ That way, we can still be partners…and they can’t take that away from us.”

Words registering, Felix had the good sense to look away in embarrassment.

He still meant it though.

Sylvain's smile only grew wider as he watched Felix struggle and sputter. Husbands, he thought slyly to himself. An interesting thought. Sylvain himself had never considered being anyone's husband, nor had he intended to, unfortunately for the innumerable disappointed women in his past. 

And now, he thought, even more unfortunately for them, he belonged to Felix. The idea of belonging to anyone struck a strange chord in him. He lay back down, resting his head on Felix's chest and snuggling into him like an oversized cat. Then he laced their fingers together and looked up at his partner with large, soft eyes.

"Yeah, I like that. They'll probably be even more pissed."

Sylvain squeezed Felix's hand, relishing in how real it all felt. Then he leaned in and gave him a light peck on the lips. "Partner."

Malicious compliance.

Felix met the eyes he would gladly get lost in over and over again only for the fact they would be the same ones that would come searching for him. A small, crooked grin, just for his partner.

Returning his peck was easy. Referring to him as his partner, easier still. Maybe this would be fine. 

Maybe those stupid algorithms were on to something…they really were compatible.

While it was tempting to lie in bed with Felix forever, Sylvain quickly realized that he had no idea what time it was. His stomach rumbled petulantly against Felix's side and he gave a small chuckle, embarrassed.

"We're gonna have to make our big public debut soon, I think," he murmured as he placed a firm, lingering kiss to Felix's bicep. "You ready?"

Sylvain sure as shit was not, but he was going to do it anyway. In truth, he didn't think anyone would care that he was with someone--after all, seeing him with multiple women on the same day was a common sight around the base. But he felt protective of Felix and if someone assumed that his now-partner was just another piece of ass, Sylvain was pretty sure he'd fucking bury them.

Felix arched a high brow at the grumble that damn near shook himself and the bed. With a slight smirk, he reached over, patting Sylvain’s empty stomach. Felix spoke with a clearly put-on voice. 

“You are just wasting away, aren’t you? Let’s remedy that.”

Felix rolled over Sylvain, stealing a quick kiss before bounding off the bed. He gathered his crumpled clothes off the floor, handing the rest to Sylvain.

Not sharing any preconceived notions that one with relationship experience would have, Felix donned his clothing, nothing at a difference, standing by his door.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter 9: This Is My Felix (Dies Irae)

Summary:

"Dimitri! Dorothea! What a surprise..." 

It wasn't. It was dinnertime, and it would have been far weirder not to run into them here. The last time Sylvain was around Dorothea, she'd had her tits half-out and he was pretending not to notice (flirtatiously at the time, playing hard-to-get but planning to seal the deal later on). But now, her presence felt unwelcome. Sylvain felt like a cat with a balloon stuck to the inside of its leg.

"This is my new...this is my Felix!" he blurted out, eyes wide. He turned his head to look down at Felix, flashing bewildered eyes at him in a silent plea for help.

Chapter Text

Sylvain wasted no time in dressing, though he told himself silent lies that the uneasy feeling in his stomach was due to lack of food rather than nerves. The abrupt kiss before Felix had abandoned him to get dressed had helped a bit, but his hands were trembling slightly as he approached the door. He jammed one into his pocket and took Felix's hand in the other, then locked the door behind him.

As they walked to the mess hall, Sylvain couldn't help but envy how at-ease Felix seemed, how carefree. But more than envious, it made him afraid. What if people were rude? Sylvain could handle it--he'd been called worse by better--but he was worried for his partner. Felix wasn't fragile, but he was...important. He tightened his grip on Felix's hand as they made their way to the line, trying to smile confidently at the others in the room while simultaneously looking at them as little as possible.

The increasingly tight grip on his hand caused him some pains as he worked out Sylvain’s movements. It struck Felix as odd that he had determined what was good and bad and for some reason, he seemed nervous. The unceremoniously hard grasp did nothing to ease Felix. He looked over, watching the rictus grin Sylvain wore. Before he could question it…their future walked in front of them. 

Did anyone else hear bells tolling, or was it just him?

Felix’s eyes trained on Dorothea until he heard a familiar deep voice. 

“Felix! It’s so good to see you!"

Shitfuck.

The exact two people Sylvain had been most hoping not to encounter had just appeared before them. His uncomfortable grin stretched even wider and he took first one, then two steps closer to Felix.

"Dimitri! Dorothea! What a surprise..." 

It wasn't. It was dinnertime, and it would have been far weirder not to run into them here. The last time Sylvain was around Dorothea, she'd had her tits half-out and he was pretending not to notice (flirtatiously at the time, playing hard-to-get but planning to seal the deal later on). But now, her presence felt unwelcome. Sylvain felt like a cat with a balloon stuck to the inside of its leg.

"This is my new...this is my Felix!" he blurted out, eyes wide. He turned his head to look down at Felix, flashing bewildered eyes at him in a silent plea for help.

Felix’s eyes were trained on the…oh my god how did she even fit into that shirt…when his attention was wrestled away by a voice that cut through his psyche.

The towering blonde man stood in front of him. Felix’s eyes went up his stature and back down, nervous, the enemy specified it to be. 

“Hi, Dima.” 

As soon as his name was spoken, Dimitri ran the familiarity forward.

Fe, I’ve missed you!” 

Fe.

Sylvain seethed with rage, but he slung an arm around Felix and gave Dimitri a friendly clap on the shoulder.

"Hey, man, how've you been?" 

Sylvain's smile was too bright, less an expression of happiness than a grim display of teeth. He drew Felix even closer, nearly crushing the smaller man to his side now. Dorothea cooed and giggled and simpered, eyeing both of them as if instead of either being off-limits, they were now a fucking two-for-one-special.

"Felix!" she cooed. "When did all this happen?"

The smile that Sylvain wore was more baring teeth than anything, yet he still somehow managed to make it work. Felix moved without opposition with the arm that corralled him and the force in which he was pulled into his side.

Dimitri, sweetly oblivious as ever, delighted in the hand to his back and mirrored the gesture. 

“Great! Glad to see you in such good spirits. You must be happy with your reassignment!”

Trapped between the two large bodies, Felix felt at an impasse. The formality, or lack thereof, by Dimitri was an issue and would have required answer had there not been a question directed at him from the woman of the hour.

“‘This?’” Felix looked up at Sylvain, as if he would find the words would be written on his face, before looking back at Sylvain’s new partner. “Recently, but it feels like a lot longer.” And that was the truth of it. The connection they shared, that was something that felt second nature.

It feels like a lot longer.

The words sent a pleasant ripple of warmth through Sylvain's body and he relaxed just enough for a flicker of a genuine smile to pass over his features.  He nodded in agreement and planted a single fierce, familiar kiss to the top of Felix's head before he spoke.

"It's, uh, kind of the reason we got reassigned. Don't know if you heard."

The subtext was, I'm not sorry and I never will be and you can't make me.

Dorothea clapped her hands in delight and pressed in close to the three of them, babbling something about workplace romances or some other such bullshit. Sylvain winced and thought about all the small children starving in third world nations. Surely, that might be a preferable alternative to whatever was about to go down in front of him in real time.

"So it’s true then?" Dimitri’s gaze swept the three of them, lingering on Felix.

Felix, for his part, felt about ready to crawl out of his skin. Had he not been preoccupied, he might have been impressed with how Dorothea was able to break his iron hold and slide in between him and Sylvain.

This was so fucking weird and off-putting. Why was this all happening right here and right at this moment? And that didn’t even begin to cover the discomfort that was Dimitri.

Felix wasn’t sorry about their actions in front of the tribunal and he certainly wasn’t going to start regretting them now. But this situation, his tone, how his single piercing blue eye bored into him, made Felix's cheeks color.

Utterly frazzled, Felix blurted out, “We came here to eat, not hold up the line.”

Thank fucking god for you, Fe. Sylvain made a mental note to thank him later, and properly. In the meantime, he squared his shoulders and jaw and broke away from the intruding pair, taking Felix with him.

"Yep, the rumors are true for once!" he sang, sliding a cheeky hand into Felix's back pocket and squeezing his ass. "And Fe's right, we came here to eat. He wore me out earlier, if you know what I mean."

Easy enough to slip back into Fuckboy Sylvain if it meant getting those two off his back. He set his sights on the terrible cafeteria food and didn't look back. He didn't even want to think about what Dorothea's face was doing right now, and as for Dima?  Sylvain wanted to put his fucking lights out. He was pissed and confused and didn't know why until a sudden, unsettling realization hit him:

He was jealous.

Felix nearly had whiplash from looking down at the surprising ass grab and jolting upright at Sylvain’s words. His blush deepened to the point where he wondered if he might pass out from the sudden rush of blood and he looked up at Sylvain with wide eyes. He liked being grabbed, he loved being handled by Sylvain, but his boisterous actions there? They all seemed for show. That alone left Felix grappling with an odd, unnamable feeling. But, this things in its entirety was so fucking weird. It might track then that their responses would also be weird…he just wanted time together.

Before he realized it, Felix had gotten one of everything from the line. Gross. He led Sylvain toward a table at the back of the mess hall. Once he was seated, he rubbed his eyes until he saw stars.

“What the fuck was all of that?”

Sylvain sat next to Felix on the bench and leaned into the table with a heavy sigh. He left his shoulders droop a little, face relaxed. 

"All of that was a clusterfuck that could not possibly have gone worse," he muttered glumly, reaching for Felix's hand and warily eyeing the contents of his tray. His mind was running in a thousand different directions and it was difficult for him to take a full breath.

At least they were on the same page with that interaction. Felix grumbled in agreement, “Yeah. That was pretty fucking bad.” That was bad, but now sitting hip to hip, Sylvain rubbing comforting circles against his skin, he’d go through a lot more if he could have this afterwards.

"So, Dima," he began cautiously, rubbing his thumb in little circles over the back of Felix's hand. "You said you guys go way back." Sylvain was proud of himself for keeping the bitter edge out of his voice.

Dima.

In the moment that he said it, Felix wanted to kick himself. The childhood nickname came out far too easily for his preference, yet it came out from some nostalgia-laden autopilot. He would be more cognizant of that in the future.

Felix began with a sigh, “Dimitri. Yeah. Old habit, sorry.” He thumbed at Sylvain’s hand, appreciative of the calming sensation. “His parents had passed and Rodrigue took to watching over and raising him. He pretty much grew up with Glenn and I.” Although Felix wouldn’t know it, he found the bitterness Sylvain was so proud to have left out of his own words. “I’m not thrilled about this blast from the past.”

Sylvain raised a brow at the apology. "What are you sorry for? I don't have to worry about him, do I? Sounds like you guys were practically brothers." 

He flashed a quick wink and reassuring smile at his partner, feeling almost embarrassed for making an assumption. This was a weird feeling, but they were also in a fucking weird situation. The jealousy faded almost as quickly as it had come on, though now it was replaced by a different kind. Felix had gotten to have two brothers, essentially. One was dead now and he wasn't on the best of terms with the other, sure, but they'd both loved him. All Sylvain had gotten was an older brother who wished he was dead.

Sylvain lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Felix's knuckles, watching him with soulful eyes.

"Anything I can do to help? How can I make it better?"

There was some power that Sylvain possessed over Felix. All words were forgotten and it was just Sylvain. Almost immediately, the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding dissipated. His brows and the thin line his lips had become all relaxed into his touch and gaze. Sylvain was comfort.

“This. You being you. This is what helps,” Felix breathed out, expelling his worries as he pressed his own lips hard against Sylvain’s sun-kissed knuckles. He gave the hand a quick squeeze before turning to his food--again, "food" being quite a generous description.

After spooning up a mouthful of "stew," Felix huffed out an amused breath at Sylvain's words as if they were the funniest thing he had heard.

“Do you have to worry about him, hah.” They had been through such an emotional time that like Sylvain’s earlier cheekiness, even Felix thought to add some levity and lightness to their newly-categorized love. “You definitely don’t have to worry. You kiss far better than Dimitri ever did.”

Did Sylvain need to worry… How absurd.

The gentle press of Felix's lips against his hand made Sylvain's heart flutter in the good kind of way and he released another tiny sigh, this one contented. He didn't need to worry.

You kiss far better than...

Than? What the fuck. Sylvain had no illusions that he was Felix's first kiss, but the "than" threw a wrench into things. And the thing in question here was Sylvain's heart.

He kept his tone, his expression playful as he lightly asked, "Oh?"

And then he waited. 

Felix nodded as he took another bite.

Finally.  

Circling back to something Sylvain asked him after their first time. This was finally something that he had experience in that he could speak on. Felix was excited to be able to meet him on this subject.

With a smirk, eyes lidded only for Sylvain, Felix doubled down.

"Far better. No comparison whatsoever."

Sylvain was torn. On the one hand, Felix, his Felix, was looking at him in a way that made his pulse pick up and his mouth go dry. But... His expression fell and he gave a weak chuckle.

"You, uh. I don't remember you telling me you'd kissed Dimitri. But hey, glad to know I'm better!"

He'd thought they were like brothers. Christ, what a dumbass. 

And as abruptly as anything, Sylvain's entire demeanor changed. Felix nearly dropped his silverware. As he answered, brows furrowed in concern, his eyes never left Sylvain's face.

"Because I didn't mention it to you. It's not anything important."

But now Felix was genuinely concerned, and he leaned in to watch Sylvain closely. 

"Was that something I should have said?"

Better than he ever did. Ever, implying more than once. It was little comfort to know he was a better kisser than Dimitri. Of course he fucking was! But the knowledge that their fellow cadet might have been a touch more than friendly for a lot longer than Sylvain thought was gnawing at him.

"You haven't done anything wrong, Fe. I'm just surprised, is all." He exhaled slowly and scooted closer to the other man. "Just getting in my own head about stuff that doesn't even matter. Not now."

The worry on Felix's face pained him. Sylvain reached out to tuck a piece of dark hair behind his ear, fingers lingering at his jawline.

In his head? Felix's face dropped. He had seen a little bit of what was in his head. Whatever it was now, Felix knew he couldn't stay there. This wasn't good. Rather than focusing on why this was surprising, he kept his attention completely on Sylvain.

Not caring about anyone around or his surroundings, Felix turned his head into Sylvain's hand, nipping at his finger.

"Hey."

Closer now, Felix snaked his arm around Sylvain's lower back, hand sliding to his hip, squeezing firmly, in an attempt to ground him.

"Be here with me. You are my chosen partner. You chose me and I chose you. That's what matters."

Like a skittish animal, Sylvain was easily soothed by the touch. He leaned into Felix, ignoring everything else in the room, and drew a shaky breath. Something about him made Sylvain feel so weak all the time. Or maybe Felix was just the first person who ever allowed him to falter, let alone made it feel safe.

"I'm here, don't worry. Just kind of embarrassed about getting all jealous. I mean, I didn't even think I got jealous anymore, but there's something about you, Fe. Are you okay? With our new assignments, I mean."

The uneasy look that had washed over Felix when they found out about their new partners had not left his mind. He stroked his fingertips across Felix's arm and made a small hum of pleasure at the idea of being chosen.  

Looking at the man in front of him, Felix was stunned. Sylvain was jealous of Dimitri… 

But it wasn’t until Sylvain came back and asked about him that Felix took account of his own feelings, his own insecurities. Logically speaking, Felix couldn’t afford to be jealous. He’d have a laundry list of individuals to hate from Sylvain’s past liaisons. He took a second to himself before answering.

“I’m...this isn’t ideal. If it can’t be me, I don’t think she’s someone I’d name.”

No, he wouldn’t have chosen the flirtatious buxom brunette at the top of their recruiting class who famously had no gag reflex as his replacement.

At some point, his brows had furrowed again, annoyance clear in his face. Felix again, took a breath, refocusing on Sylvain. “But that’s besides the point.” He found his partner’s eyes again. “…I trust you.”

Well, damn. That was yet another thing Sylvain had never, ever heard anyone say. Sure, he'd said it as a lie more than a few times: to lovers, to acquaintances, to Miklan, to himself. But he'd come to learn that trust was one area in which he would never be on the receiving end.

The pull of Felix's eyes and the deep, knowing way he was looking at him--him --was rapidly soothing all traces of discomfort at Felix's new partner.

"I trust you too, Fe. I guess I was mostly jealous that he didn't have to miss out on so much time with you. And besides," he added with a playful quirk of his lips, "I'd be a hypocrite if I got jealous, before you made an honest man out of me."

He was jealous of the time Dimitri had with Felix… It was something so small so odd to hear, it rang oddly sweet to his ears. That someone would desire him at all was new, but this, it was something else entirely. 

Hearing their trust was reciprocated not only in the Drift, but in their hearts as well…it was cheesy as fuck. But Felix wasn’t about to deny how happy it made him.

At this, Felix rolled his eyes fondly, “Your words, not mine.” Quirking a grin, he added before taking another bite. “You need to stop hinting at getting hitched. I’m not proposing to your damn ass.”

"Hey, you're the one who put it in my head! 'Husbands would be hard to fuck up,' quoth Felix Fraldarius. Your words, not mine." 

Sylvain rolled his eyes sarcastically, but they were full of warmth and a little smile tugged at his lips. Jesus jumped-up Christ, he was definitely not ready for that step. Sure, the I love you came almost startlingly soon, but it was a neither unwelcome nor unreciprocated sentiment.

He realized that he was beginning to both speak and think like an 18th century diplomat and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Anyway, as far as nomenclature goes...I think 'my Felix' works pretty well on my part, don't you?"

Felix chewed on a hard bread end as he watched Sylvain pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I guess the thought of husbands will be there until you decide to then, won’t it?”

His next comment however, made Felix pause all movement.

My Felix.

Ownership, possession, obligation, responsibility…he wanted all of that for the small prize of him?

Felix swallowed dryly. “It works well. Yeah.”

Testing the taste of the words on his own tongue, he intoned lowly, “My Sylvain. I like how that sounds.”

"Felix." Sylvain's voice was strained, though his expression was light. "You can't just fucking say things like that."

He wondered if Felix-- his Felix now, and hopefully for a long time--was serious, however. It wasn't a bad idea, per se, but that was so fast that Sylvain didn't even have a word for it. On the other hand, there was the very real possibility that they could die at any moment, especially in their shitty Mark-IIs, especially now that they'd been split up, especially now that the kaiju attacks were becoming more vicious and more frequent.

The sweet possessiveness of Felix's voice drew him back to the present, and the pure, innocent affection in his words nearly made him tear up. No one had ever actually wanted him; he'd told Felix as much more than once. But here they were.

"I really like how that sounds, Fe."

Felix watched him in amusement as Sylvain sputtered tightly. It was interesting to see the funny strain such small, innocuous things caused. Pushing his luck, he could twist the knife a little more and gave Sylvain a wicked smirk. “I do, too. Just slot it in the back there next to whether you like the sound of ‘Sylvain Fraldarius’ or ‘Felix Gautier’ better. Now eat up.”

"Fuck you," Sylvain spat, but there was more affection than heat in it. And he secretly pondered the question while he dutifully shoveled terrible food into his mouth under Felix's watchful eye. When he was finished, he raised his head and regarded the other with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Sylvain Fraldarius," he announced triumphantly. For a moment, it felt oddly submissive to give up his last name. On the other hand, he couldn't fucking wait to no longer be a Gautier, whether through death (his, his father's, anyone's) or marriage (which he'd never even thought about before). "How about you?" 

Felix chuckled under his breath as he watched Sylvain put away their allotted dinner, waiting patiently for the response. When he heard Sylvain Fraldarius, a small, secret smile began to curl on his lips.

Another Fraldarius… As it stood, Felix was the last in his family and had been for a matter of years. His last name was of no real importance to him and he was the only one of that same mind. People, staff, cadets still came up to him speaking of his father and brother and of their valiant deaths. If the Fraldarius name was only good for recalling ghosts, fuck it.

Though, if Sylvain wanted to join him as another Fraldarius pilot, another family member…well. That didn’t sound terrible.

Felix finished the last bites before pushing his tray away before responding, “Doesn’t sound too bad. I like it.”

Sylvain's eyes widened at the statement and he shoved his tray away. Part of him wanted to cry. Part of him wanted to fuck him right here on this table, hard enough to make him scream, to assert his dominance no matter what bullshit the tribunal pulled. And part of him wanted to go somewhere more private simply to spend time with Felix away from the prying eyes of the other cadets.

"C'mon, let's get out of here."

Chapter 10: Ghost Drift

Summary:

Ghost Drift, one of the more serious side effects of Drifting. Every jaeger pilot had heard of the phenomenon, linked with PTSD and other strong stimuli. From the little that he said now, Felix could see it. He had all the tell-tale signs.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Once they were safely inside Sylvain's room, he closed the door behind him and plopped down on the bed, still fully clothed. He'd had quite enough of the adoring public for one day, thank you very much.

"Make yourself comfortable, Fe. I mean, we're a thing now, so what's mine is yours."

Felix took a seat and leaned back in the heavy metal chair, propping his feet up.

“Perks of being a thing now, huh?”

There was an ease about them that Felix found curious. He’d never felt at ease with anyone other than himself, and even then, it wasn’t as though it was enjoyable. But Sylvain was himself was comfort.

Felix thumbed idly at an open drawer when the word ‘resume’ caught his eye. Bemused, Felix reached down, grabbing the papers. 

“You have printed copies of your resume? Who even are you? Actually, let’s just see…”

Resume? It took Sylvain a minute to figure out what Felix was talking about. He hadn't needed a resume in years, not since he became a pilot. And even then, a resume wasn't necessary--just the ability to control a massive war machine.

Then it dawned on him. Bernadetta. God damnit.

"Oh, that's just my sex resume," he said casually as he stretched out on the bed. "I got, like, super drunk with Bernadetta when I first became a pilot. Side note: Bernie never drinks. So we're playing this drinking game to The Price is Right or some bullshit like that, and she gets this brilliant idea to write a sex resume. Because she knows I used to be a whore, and she's a writer. So, that's what that is. I honestly never use the desk for anything so I guess it's been in there a while, collecting dust. Feel free to discard."

He was overtalking and he knew it, but once he got going, it was hard to stop.

It took less than one second for Felix to figure out this wasn’t the regular experience and stats he was expecting to see. No, this was no regular resume with GPAs, but negative results for STDs; no work accomplishments, but affirmations of positive sexual interactions. Other than the colorful action verbs that led each bullet point, the only part that tracked with a normal resume were the references, or perhaps not as they were instead testimonials.

Oh these were gems.

There was Ingrid, an Atlantic-region pilot who was exceptionally specific in terminology. One Petra Macneary, a member of the international jaeger exchange program. One especially succinct testimonial from the tight-lipped, looming kaiju researcher Hubert, who Felix knew had a thing for redheads. The others listed under ‘Notable and/or Miscellaneous’ included: the head doctor who ran the infirmary bay, Dr. Casagranda; maverick pilot of the Eastern front, Claude von Riegan; the head botanist Annette; protein-powder-addled-arms-for-days-Lennyesque Raphael…

Felix sat the chair back down on all fours, his own two feet planted squarely on the ground. At some point, Sylvain had begun explaining the document in his hands; Felix was unsure of his face in the moment, but his tone came out steely. 

“It’s been awhile, has it? You should update it then. Can’t have gaps between…” Felix looked down at the last entry, “…Lorenz and myself.” 

Felix looked back down for clarity before shooting him a withering look. 

“Lorenz. HellmanfuckingGloucester. Really.”

"Uh, yeah. Wait, is he on there? I thought that might have been a fever dream..." 

Sylvain smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe if he tousled it artfully enough, Felix would forget all about that stupid resume…

"Anyway. We hated each other then, and we still do. I don't think we've said more than maybe ten words to each other, and most of them were expletives."

Sylvain wasn't sure whether it would make it worse or better to explain himself, but he took another gamble that he suspected would be as unsuccessful as his first attempt.

Better to try the seductive angle than try to answer the unspoken question of why Lorenz? He had no idea himself; the man was arrogant and his haircut made him look like a fucking thumb. But Sylvain had probably been shitfaced after an awful drill (probably with Felix) and Lorenz was available. 

He was planning to say exactly none of these things to Felix, and he accomplished that task.

"So, my Felix," he purred, stressing the possessive, "what would you put on there as your testimonial? I can get rid of all the others so you have unlimited space." 

Felix stared more than unimpressed with the display Sylvain was putting on.

His history of being active was no mystery to Felix. But to see it in literal print, in actual black and white was something else. But...fucking Lorenz?!

It was easy to focus on Sylvain, on what he felt in the moment and for the past few days together, easy enough to acknowledge, yet avoid actually thinking about all of the...the litany of people he had been with previously...

For as stupid and ridiculous as this entire thing was, a deep gnawing feeling festered in Felix's gut. His eyes narrowed into slits as Sylvain purred at him in a move that would otherwise be wildly enticing; now, it only served to irk him. Through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth, he choked out, "Talks unnecessarily; tries too fucking hard; active disregard for and disrespect of jaeger AI; records too much idiotic shit." 

Ordinarily, Felix's scathing description would have made him laugh. But these were desperate times, and he was all out of desperate measures. And those words hurt like a bitch, even though they were things Sylvain already knew (and, in fact, prided himself on). It was the tone of voice that threw him off: Stony. Cold. Just like the Felix he knew before he became his.

"Those...are all fair," he said softly. 

He needed to find a way to soothe him but got the distinct impression that approaching Felix right now would be akin to suicide. He continued in a voice just above a whisper, trying not to show how terrified he was. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Felix, and one stupid night years ago that didn't even involve physical, let alone sexual, contact was coming back to haunt him. It tracked.

"I, uh, don't really have any excuse or explanation for that stupid thing. But I'm gonna throw it away. Right now."

He rose from the bed hastily and made for the stack of papers, his fingers brushing Felix's.

Looking down at the papers, Felix worried at his lip. He knew he was no prize. He knew he didn't have much to offer, yet somehow, in ways that even Sylvain himself could hardly explain, Sylvain was interested in him. Well, alright. So was everyone else. People that were more impressive, smarter, beautiful, people with more articulable things to give. He was just Felix.

Felix didn't see Sylvain get up nor cross the short space. When Sylvain's fingers brushed his own, he flinched away. Not facing Sylvain, he somehow managed to curl into himself. 

"Don't throw it away on my account. Keep it. It's yours."

Sylvain's anxious expression deepened into a scowl as he crumpled the papers and tossed them in the trash almost defiantly. He didn't expect Felix to understand, and he couldn't blame him. It looked more than bad. Awful. Terrible. As though a portal directly to Hell had opened beneath his feet...or maybe that was wishful thinking.

"Fe...did you even look at the date of the last entry? It was over a month before we met. It hasn't needed updating in a while." 

He was trying to be patient, but it almost seemed like Felix wanted to fight. Sylvain bitterly wondered if this was another first Felix wanted to rush into.

Unfortunately for both of them, Sylvain could give just as good as he got. Maybe better, even. He turned his back on the man, even though he wanted to ask if it was okay to touch him, to comfort him, and prepared for more barbs. 

So petty was the look they were going for?

Okay.

Felix could do petty.

He turned, leaning his elbow out over the back of the chair facing Sylvain's broad back. Felix's response rang loud and clear in the small room.

"Oh that's good to know. You do your necessary revisions in bulk. When do you do your updates? Bi-annually? On a quarterly basis?" This was unnecessary, but Felix didn't stop. "Is that why I'm not on here yet? Haven't gotten that particular schedule reminder yet?"

"Fuck you," Sylvain shot back, much as he had back in the mess hall. This time, however, it was not playful. The two simple words tasted foul in his mouth and sounded grotesque falling from his lips, but out they came. He was beginning to get the feeling that his body was no longer his own.

"If you want to be jealous, that's your choice. I definitely could've pried for more information about Dima, but I didn't. Because I fucking trust you. And I thought you trusted me...you were the one who said it first."

If Felix wanted to be petty, Sylvain would be spiteful, and so he continued the frontal assault.

"I saw the way he looked at you. Hungry. Why do I get the distinct impression that it went beyond a kiss or two? Did you fuck him, or did he fuck you? I mean, you didn't have to lie to me about your firsts. I didn't and continue to not give a shit about that. It's the first with me, and that's what I care about."

The insult only served to incense Felix. But what came after only hurt.

Once Sylvain's diatribe was done, Felix spat, "Fuck me? Fuck you! First off, you're the one that got jealous and look! You still are! Even after I've told you about it. What did you want me to do, huh? I can't control how someone else acts. That's an unfair standard to be measured against. You said you trust me. Not that fucking much, it seems."

Felix pushed himself back violently from the desk, standing up; metal chair legs aching loudly against the metal floor. As he rose, so did his voice.

"Second, I haven't been dishonest with you a day in my goddamn life! If you don't want to believe me, that's your fucking deal. But don't fucking paint me as a liar because you can't deal with your fucking emotions!"

"I know you can't control it, Fe," he said softly. Sylvain usually relished a good fight--it was part of the reason he was constantly dumping people or being dumped--but he didn't want to this time. Not like this. Not over the past. "I don't want to dig up ghosts."

But since Felix was using numbers, Sylvain followed the rabbit down the hole of firsts and let himself flash back to his own first time.

*

He's nine. Miklan has just tried to smother him in his sleep, his cries muffled by thick layers of goose down. His older brother pants and snarls and holds him to the mattress.

*

Even through the mess of his emotions, he shuddered at the thought of his own brother's touch. Five years. Five long fucking years until Miklan left for the Academy and Sylvain was finally free. Some small part of him still hoped that if he could make it to the five-year mark with someone, he would magically be free of the memories, too. But he couldn't remember the last time he had a relationship that lasted even five weeks.  

The soft voice that answered took Felix off guard. He unclenched his fists, baring red palms with half-moon imprints of his nails. Softer, now:

"...What?"

A visible chill rolled through Sylvain's body. Felix's eyes went from narrow slits to wide in concern, searching the other's face. Sylvain's face had clouded over, an abrupt change from his everything in the past few minutes.

Instantly, Felix felt caught between both wanting to wrestle whatever it was that Sylvain was feeling in the moment and wanting to provide patience and calmness, bringing him back to the present. As if he was approaching a scared animal, Felix slowly stepped forward with the flat of his hands out. Brows furrowed, he spoke evenly, "Sylvain?"

*

Sylvain is fourteen and Miklan is eighteen and his arm is gone. It was turned into ashes almost two years ago and he has never been quite the same. He has always hated Sylvain, and he will until the day he dies, but the 'accident' brought something else entirely out in him.

*

He flinches at Felix's voice trying to break through the swirling pea-soup fog of memories. But the voice he hears calling his name isn't right...

*

'Sylvain.' Miklan usually calls him 'princess' or 'Sylvie,' rarely using his proper name. He already knows it's going to be bad this time. Miklan's remaining hand descends and closes around Sylvain's slender neck. His shoulders heave as he struggles against his brother, who has four years and at least thirty pounds on him. Then the King of Pain arrives and whisks Sylvain away.

*

This wasn't right. Something had gone wrong.

The way Sylvain flinched at the sound of his voice with no other visible response...something was very wrong. With more urgency this time and against what would likely be considered common sense, Felix stepped up to Sylvain, sliding his finger tips up his muscular forearms to grip him behind his elbows. As he slotted his arms with Sylvain's, trying desperately to ground him, Felix looked pleadingly up at his face. The voice that came out was loud and clear, laced with raw desperation. Showing such weakness was unappealing to Felix, but in the moment, that couldn't have been further from his mind. There was only his partner.

"Sylvain. I need you to come back to me right the fuck now. Please.

*

He awakens with a jolt to

*

the sound of Felix's voice ringing in his ears, desperate and pleading and full of panic. There was pressure around his arms and he looked down in confusion, as though he'd just recently grown them and wasn't quite sure what they were or what they were for.

"Fe?" Sylvain looked down at the smaller man and blinked hard once, twice. His breath was coming in little rasps and he had no idea when he started panting. "Fe, what's wrong? Why do you look like that?"

If Sylvain was gone in one moment, he was back in this next one. That being said, he was lost.

Felix sputtered, "Why do I--why did you--!"

His chest collided with Sylvain's as he lunged forward, wrapping him in a tight hug as if he had any chance to unring whatever bell had sounded.

He tucked his head down, trying to find comfort for both of them as his chest rose and fell erratically.

"You weren't here, Sylvain. I was fucking terrified."

Sylvain caught Felix easily in his arms; he had suddenly remembered how to use them the moment he saw Felix in distress. As he cradled Felix to his chest, he thought about how he seemed to be more unsettled--no, terrified--than Sylvain himself.

"I...Fe, what did you see? I'm so sorry, fuck, I didn't mean to..."

He dug his fingers into Felix's firm sides and tried to focus on the warmth beneath his fingertips. He needed something real, something concrete to remind him that he was still alive.

Even muffled, Felix's voice barked out harshly, "Shut up! I told you I don't want your damn apologies! Just you. And you need to be present. All of you."

Every fiber of his being was electrified. Felix felt high-strung and helpless as he babbled nearly incoherently, fingers digging into his sides. He was a poor tether, but he was desperate to be one for Sylvain.

"I saw you, and you were there, but you weren't, either."

At some point, Felix had begun to shake.

Sylvain's grip on Felix tightened and he lifted him up to carry him to the bed. He sat with his back against the wall and steepled his knees, drawing Felix close.

"Ghost Drift," he said quietly. "I started having them almost nightly after...well, you know." 

They had been hellish, leaving him sweaty and shaken with no one there to comfort him. At this point, he had a hard time distinguishing it from the usual flashbacks, but he'd grown numb and indifferent enough that he didn't even care anymore.

His fingers kneaded Felix's biceps in a calm, steady motion. "It's okay. I'm back. I'm here now, with you."

Felix himself wasn't large by any means; in fact, he was probably smaller than he would admit, which was why he presented himself with so much energy and presence. In the moment, that couldn't have been further from the truth. He felt small and insignificant. It made sense when Sylvain gathered him close, lifting and moving him without issue.

Against Sylvain as he spoke, Felix stayed silent, focusing on his low tone. Ghost Drift, one of the more serious side effects of Drifting. Every jaeger pilot had heard of the phenomenon, linked with PTSD and other strong stimuli. From the little that he said now, Felix could see it. He had all the tell-tale signs.

And yet, here he was. Strong fingers massaging into his flesh, grounding him. He was the one needing comfort. Weak. He was so fucking weak.

It was sickening.

He answered in a shaky voice, "A-alright. As long as you're back..."

Uncertainty was not something one saw often in Felix, and it set off alarm bells in his head. No, full-on fucking klaxons. Sylvain knew that Felix, too, got in his own head far too often. He also knew that he thought it made him weak somehow.

"You're stronger than you know," he whispered in his ear. "You've survived my brain like, what, three times now? That's got to be a record or something."

Sylvain smoothed Felix's bangs away from his face and simply held him for a long while, murmuring softly to him. "I'm so sorry you had to see that, Fe."

The soft touch held an agonizing tenderness. The fondness in Sylvain's voice as he praised and soothed him struck Felix at his core, and all he could do was shake his head. None of it was true.

"How can you say that? I haven't done shit." Felix let a choked sob that shocked even him as he leaned back down into Sylvain and his patiently waiting arms. "I hate this for you...you shouldn't have to deal with this..."

"You're here," Sylvain said simply, cradling Felix to his chest and stroking his hair. Let him cry it out. Sometimes, it was the only way. "And that's so much more than enough, Fe."

He took a breath; he didn't want to overwhelm Felix, but he felt that context was important.

"The reason that fucking list is so long is because I feel like I have a cursed dick."

It sounded ridiculous, so he continued.

"I mean, if you check the rosters, I was paired with every single person on there at one point, with the exception of the professors. After I slept with them a time or two, they started to experience the same thing you just did. The only reason they didn't boot my ass the first time it happened is because of the more than substantial amount of money Old Man Gautier funnels into the jaeger project each quarter."

In Sylvain's arms, Felix felt supported. He was tired, so fucking tired. But the man was relentless in everything he did. Relentless in his passions, in his fighting, and now, in the wholly undeserved affection. Felix was relentless in other facets...maybe these were what made them complementary. Save for his shaky inhales, Felix remained quiet as Sylvain spoke, sharing more than he had previously. And there was quite a lot to unpack...beginning with the bemused huff that escaped him at the ridiculous claim.

"You don't have a cursed dick, stupid. I didn't see that on the resume. I feel like you'd have to disclose that shit."

Sylvain laughed and the tension in his body evaporated on his long, wheezing exhale. What he'd said to Felix just before I love you was also true: Felix was very dry, but very funny.

"If it's true and I didn't, would I be in trouble?" He craned his neck down and around to look at his partner. "And if so, what's my punishment? If it helps my case, I didn't feel the least bit sorry about what it did to Lorenz. Well...maybe a little, but I didn't try to fuck him up."

The man in question seemed just fine now, back to his old annoying self. He did, however, avoid Sylvain like the plague. Maybe there was a God.

The rumble of laughter that rolled under his weight was a welcomed sensation. When they were good, they were very good.

Felix met the downwards gaze of his partner with an upturned one of his own. Eyes glassy, he was less ashamed than he had been, more preoccupied with the upswing of Sylvain's countenance.

Felix answered blandly, "Unclear. But maybe you should've tried to fuck him up. At least then he could've blamed you for that stupid fucking haircut."

But no, the man had decided to style himself after a thumb all on his own. And a particularly bruised-looking one, at that.

Thumbs up, bud.

Felix might have been better off choosing to be a voice of reason rather than offering his choice words, but that wasn't him. He was Sylvain's Felix. For better or fucking worse.

"Nobody deserves that, Fe," Sylvain said as he stroked Felix's cheekbone. "Not even Lorenz HellmanFuckingGloucester."

He planted a kiss on his partner's head. The last thing he wanted to do was bring down the mood. Not now that the storm had passed. It had been brief but ferocious, battering against Sylvain relentlessly as he and Felix viciously tried to score points against one another.

"Let's not ever fight like that again, Fe. It's in the past and we can't change it."

Felix shook his head like some cartoonish caricature.

"I hated it."

Both of them were exhausted physically and mentally. Felix looked up, bleary eyed.

"Bed. We need bed."

Without much ceremony, the two opted to fall asleep nearly as they were, close by necessity of the small bed, closer due to the events of the day. They both Drifted off into dreamless sleep.

Notes:

Mentions of child abuse, sexual and otherwise.

Chapter 11: Grim Reaver

Summary:

"That's your fucking job, Dimitri!" Sylvain snapped, voice worn thin with anxiety. "Or have you forgotten? It's your fucking job to make sure your co-pilot is safe. If you can't get him back, you're useless. Don't act like this is just some big 'oopsie,' you fucking dick. You didn't take care of my Felix and you should be over the moon that he's okay because if he wasn't I would not hesitate to fucking end you, you little shit," he finished.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The next day, Felix awoke on the spectrum of rested, but not well. Today was the first day they had to run drills and testing with their newly-assigned partners. They were scheduled to meet in the morning; Sylvain and Dorothea would take the first morning time slot while Felix and Dimitri would follow. They would repeat the drills for as long as it took to gauge the compatibility and the efficiency of the pairs.

In the night, Sylvain's arm had managed to drape over the curve of his hips. Felix turned into him and murmured to him in a sleep-heavy voice.

"Hey. It's morning."

"Mm. No. It's not."

Felix's yawn triggered one of Sylvain's own and he made a face at his partner, trying to look stern and failing miserably.

"Do we have to do this, Fe? And...if so, if we fuck up badly enough, will they reassign us again?"

More likely, they'd be put out unless they were clever enough to hide that they were trying to fail. But recent experience had shown that no one was safe from the watchful eye of the tribunal.

Acid in his voice, Felix answered, "Unfortunately."

The idea of fucking up on purpose if it would get them reassigned was a tempting idea. However, there were more than a few unknowns. One, they didn't know if they could get reassigned together. Two, they were always hooked up to something that read their vitals and accumulated statistics from everything. They would know-on a quantifiable level whether they were giving their all. Three, the powers that be had the final say as far as they were concerned. It would be better to stay on their good side and play by their rules...for now.

With a disappointed sigh, Sylvain kissed Felix's shoulder and reluctantly rolled out of bed to change into a fresh shirt. After a moment's thought, he tossed another one to Felix.

"Here. It'll be a little big, but it's clean. And you'll look adorable in it."

Felix scooted to the edge of the bed to catch the shirt, legs dangling off the edge. It would be comically large on him, but he didn't fuss. In fact, he allowed a second for Sylvain to see him be 'adorable ' in it. The shirt nearly covered his butt; had he not been wearing pants, well, it might've been cute. But that was neither here nor there.

“Let’s try and play nice. Ready?”

Unbeknownst to Felix, Sylvain was thinking the exact same thing: he'd look fetching in that shirt without pants. He batted the thought away by reminding himself once again that his parents fucked at least twice, but filed the image away for later consideration anyway. Approaching Felix from behind, he wrapped his arms around his waist and placed three tiny kisses to his neck--now a special message to his partner. 

"I'm gonna tell you one new fact about how I feel about you every morning," he murmured. "The first one is, you're the first person I've ever felt emotionally connected to during sex. The only one who it's meant something with. I love you, Fe. Don't ever forget that."

After a final goodbye peck and a seemingly endless walk to the training room, Sylvain arrived to the sight of Dorothea already suited up and stepping into her harness. It felt wrong to see her there in Felix's old spot, wearing a full face of makeup, just like it felt wrong to joke that he'd gotten Adder in the 'divorce.' 

To his horror and their instructor's utter delight, they performed fantastically well together. Dorothea's mind was a blissful blank slate and Sylvain found himself oddly soothed by it. Together, they finished the drills quickly (though not as quickly as he might have with Felix, he thought bitterly to himself when they were finished). Dorothea had tried to hug him, coming at him full-force, but Sylvain had ducked just in time and given her a scathing look. Hopefully, the lesson would stick.

Meanwhile, Felix had hardly been able to stay still for ten minutes by himself. The nerves, the anxiety for Sylvain and himself...the jealousy. He couldn't just sit there.

He had been roaming the grounds for the morning, not being able to help himself as he swung by the viewing deck at the jaeger bay to check on Sylvain. As was expected, they were doing incredibly well. Sylvain was commanding and powerful on the right and Dorothea was graceful on his left. It was a bittersweet feeling that Felix couldn't bear to watch for long, but Felix was proud of him.

Felix reported to the locker room ahead of time to change into his suit, waiting for his co-pilot and to get this entire thing over with.

Instead of meeting in the locker room, when their planned time came, Dimitri was ready, locked into the right hemisphere of Grim Reaver. Felix swallowed dryly. The jaeger was all cold and harsh blues and gunmetal. Even the controls, the harnesses, the blonde with a messy ponytail like his own...they looked wrong.

Felix approached, initializing the harness.

They opted for a countdown.

 

10, 9, 8, 7

 

...at 6, Felix's eyes rolled back in his head

*

As Sylvain approached and caught his first glimpse of the new jaeger Felix would be piloting, he had to admit that it looked pretty damn cool. He preferred the vibrant crimson and teal of Cosmic Adder, but Grim Reaver's name was well-suited to the machine.

He arrived just in time to watch Felix strap himself in for countdown. Of course, Sylvain couldn't actually see Felix, not from this distance and angle, but he imagined what he looked like: determined expression on his face, mouth set in a thin line. That fucking hair scraped back from his forehead, though it would end up a mess by the time they were through. (Sylvain took a little bit of comfort and pride in knowing that he knew what that looked like before Dimitri did.)

Sylvain sat down with his legs dangling off the ledge of the catwalk, planted his chin in his hands, and watched as the new pair began their drill. But all the while, he had the nagging feeling that something was horribly wrong.

His body reacted before his brain and he pushed himself off the ledge, wrenching his ankle from the ten-foot drop. Then he was off in a flash, sprinting toward Grim Reaver just as alarms began to sound.

*

5 . . . Muted voices yelling behind closed, matching manor doors...

4 . . . Heated words, a prayer for death, wounded pride, hurt golden eyes...

3 . . . A welcomed incoming call, promises of a visit, multiple sonar pings...

2 . . . A cacophony of roars, the tearing of blue metal, twin screams...

1 . . .

Static.

*

Felix fell before the Drift. To his credit, Dimitri was able to somehow steer the jaeger back against the airlock.

Elsewhere on the catwalk's control panel, alerts were sounded, personnel rushing around, all signifying, something was not right.

Somewhere far off, Felix vaguely heard his name.

Fe!

Somewhere far off, as if he lacked form, he felt himself be lifted.

It could only be his partner, of course.

When Felix finally came to, sounds were sharper, colors brighter, sensations heightened. When he came to, he was not alone. He indeed was on the floor of the cockpit in the arms of his co-pilot, not his partner. Dimitri loomed over him, cradling Felix as close as he could. One icy blue eye knowingly staring through him.

Sylvain pushed off the ledge and dropped the ten or so feet to the floor--thankfully, he'd chosen a landing instead of plopping his lazy ass down at the top. From the searing pain in his ankle he assumed he'd probably made a mistake, but the thought of leaving Felix unattended was even worse.

"Fe!" he called again, gasping for breath from the strain of running with his injured leg. "Fe!"

When he saw Dimitri, of all people, cradling Felix-- his Felix--the way Sylvain had last night, his vision went red-, white-, and blue-hot with rage. He wanted to tackle the other man, to shove him out of the way, but he wasn't willing to risk Felix as collateral damage.

What the fuck happened, you goddamn boar?" he spat--literally, angry droplets of saliva landing on Dimitri's drivesuit. Sylvain's only regret was that he wasn't able to produce more. "What the fuck did you do to him?"

It was a struggle to open and keep his eyes open. There was however, some urgency when he heard from what seemed far away. As his senses came back, he started to make out the sounds, no, yells that were right here.

Sylvain.

Felix groaned out, messily grasping at his helmet release. “Sylvain… It’s okay. It was my fault.” He looked up, nodding at Dimitri. With a single nod in return, the large man rose with Felix easily. Felix reached out for Sylvain. 

Sylvain practically snarled at Dimitri as he took Felix gently into his arms, folding him to his chest. But he did manage to give a curt nod of thanks for not leaving Felix alone. He couldn't and didn't want to imagine how this might have played out if Felix had been by himself.

"I've got you, Fe," he murmured in his partner's ear. "You're safe." 

And then, after the briefest of pauses Sylvain added simply, "I love you. Please don't leave me."

Felix felt himself relax into Sylvain and wrapped his arms around his neck, whispering back, “I’m safe…I’m not going anywhere.”

Felix never liked for the thought of being looked after…but the care in which Sylvain held him made him want that for himself.

The haze was still dissipating over his gaze, as he reached up to scrub at his eyes. His fist came back wet with shed and unshed tears.

“I fucked up.”

"What happened, Fe?"

Sylvain struggled to keep his voice low and soothing, the way he knew Felix liked. From the tension in the air and the crowds of worried professionals and curious onlookers alike milling around them, he could only assume that something had gone wrong in the Drift. Something terribly wrong. Still cradling Felix to his chest, he looked over at Dimitri with wide, misty eyes. 

"Dimitri...please. What happened in there? I need to know."

Voice raw, embarrassed, answering for himself, Felix said, “I chased it…I went down the rabbit hole.” 

Staff fluttered around the three men, poking and prodding, getting readings from Felix. With an especially invasive readout, he had to get up. Tapping Sylvain, Felix walked a few unsteady feet to the side as needed.

His one blue eye tracked Felix as he addressed Sylvain.

“He tapped out at the neuro handshake. I couldn’t get him before he ran with it. I knew their deaths weighed heavily on him, but that was an unexpected level.”

"That's your fucking job, Dimitri!" Sylvain snapped, voice worn thin with anxiety. "Or have you forgotten? It's your fucking job to make sure your co-pilot is safe. If you can't get him back, you're useless. Don't act like this is just some big 'oopsie,' you fucking dick. You didn't take care of my Felix and you should be over the moon that he's okay because if he wasn't I would not hesitate to fucking end you, you little shit," he finished.

Then he looked down at Felix again and began planting urgent little kisses anywhere he could reach as he offered soft affirmations.

"No, Fe, you're not weak at all. I... I'm just glad you're back. I thought I was gonna lose you."

He followed Felix protectively, though he was sure to give a bit of breathing room.

The headache that came over Felix was massive. All his movements were labored, prompting groans and small pathetic whimpers as Sylvain’s raised voice and soft touches filled his senses.

With a slight touch that could not have been further from his usual controlled presses, Felix patted Sylvain’s neck, soothing the raging tempest. “It wasn’t his fault. But I’m okay and safe. You didn’t lose me.”

This was a lot. Felix became actively aware of the eyes that now honed in on the scene he had caused, now studying Sylvain and Dimitri. With a raised voice, Felix asked, “Are we done now? I want to go.” Hearing no objections, Felix made his way to the exit with Sylvain at his side.

"Yeah, Fe, we can go." 

Dimitri accompanied the pair, uttering nonstop apologies and well wishes.  

Dimitri. Stop. This wasn’t your fault. I’ll be better next time.” 

With what he hoped was an encouraging look, he refocused on making his way out with Sylvain.

Sylvain abandoned his ire in favor of tenderness at the plaintive note in his partner's voice. But the anger flared back to life when Dimitri had the gall to follow them.

And when Felix blamed himself? 

I'll be better next time.

Sylvain clenched his jaw almost hard enough to crack his molars. Better. 

"Fe. You didn't do anything wrong."

He looked down at his partner and spoke gently, not trusting himself to look at or address Dimitri.

Walking at his side, Felix kept his eyes trained down as they made their way back to the residential wing of the base. He knew Sylvain was just trying to make him feel better, but it just wasn't true. He shook his head, responding in a sardonic tone.

"I didn't do anything right then. I didn't even make it through the fucking initializing countdown."

Approaching their rooms, Felix made to turn for his own doorway, rather than the room he had spent the last few nights in. 

"I'm sorry. This was a mess."

Hearing Felix list his own shortcomings hurt like hell, and while Sylvain was capable of great tenderness, his own pain was quickly becoming overwhelming.

He snapped.

"Stop fucking apologizing ! It's not your fault! It's his. And the fucking tribunal, and this whole fucking mess we're in. Dimitri should have caught you, Felix. He should have been the one to bring you back, because I couldn't be there."

He pushed past Felix and into the other man's room, reeling.

He choked back a sob and leaned a hip heavily into his desk. His palms felt wet; why? When he uncurled his hands, he looked down in wonderment at the small bloody crescents he'd left behind on his palms.

When they fought the day before, Felix thought he had heard Sylvain raise his voice. That clearly was only a precursor. When Sylvain yelled now, Felix felt it.

As Sylvain pressed past him into the room, Felix staggered forward.

"Why are you saying that? I'm not oblivious. When I fail, I need to own it and improve! Why is that something you can't understand?" His voice was becoming raw with a desperate need for understanding. "I need to have my failures. I know I'm not as gifted as you are, but that's all the more reason I need to be honest with my shit! You can't blame Dimitri or the tribunal or you not being somewhere on the things I have control over!"

At what point his eyes had teared up and begun glassing over, Felix didn't know.

In a shaky voice, he continued, "It's not your responsibility or burden to save me."

"No, it's not my responsibility--I'm not your co-pilot anymore." Sylvain laughed bitterly. "And it would never be a fucking burden. This is a choice I make, Fe, because I love you. It's the only thing that matters to me."

He reached out for the other man but was stopped in his tracks when he caught a glimpse of blood. His blood. He shuddered and something deep inside of him broke.

"You've seen me go through the same thing countless times now, Felix," he said. "Would you say that I'm weak?"

While he would normally use these words to comfort his partner, to bring levity to the situation, now they were dark and low and dangerous.

In many situations, Felix preferred silent observation, focusing on listening to adding his own voice into the arena. When he would eventually need to or felt the need to add his voice, he could base it off the other for a higher rate of success.

But as he listened, he couldn't keep up with the churning tides of Sylvain's changing emotions. One instant, he was bitter, the next falling into a deep passionate plea, which then surged again into something dark and dangerous that prickled Felix's skin.

Felix didn't know which Sylvain he was dealing with. The one who was (understandably) made bitter by their circumstances; his fiercely passionate partner; or this heretofore unknown Sylvain who seemed dark and chilling, everything that Sylvain didn't show, yet, the more Felix was around him, the more he saw just bubbling under the surface...Felix couldn't help but think back to their Drift...something connected to Miklan.

Feeling more helpless by the second, Felix felt like any way he answered would be wrong...all he had hope for was to be less wrong. Whether he did that or not, time would tell.

"You aren't weak at all. This isn't the same thing," he whined. "My shit is just me! I'm the cause of it, there is no one else to blame!" His voice became more tight as he continued, now speaking at an alarmingly fast rate. "You said it yourself! You can't control the actions of others or the effects they have on you now. You couldn't control what Miklan did back then, and you can't be expected to now!"

Felix's eyes went wide. 

He overstepped.

Miklan.

Sylvain slowly turned to Felix, eyes dark and flashing.

"What the fuck did you just say."

Notes:

Tune in Friday to see what fresh hell is about to descend upon our boys!

Chapter 12: Asserting Dominance

Summary:

"So much what, Fe?" he whispered back against Felix's lips. The tip of his tongue slipped out on instinct and he immediately drew it back, horrified with himself. This was the absolute wrong time for that bullshit.

"Hurt."

"Because it's always gonna hurt, Fe."

Two pieces of the same fucked-up puzzle.

Notes:

HEAVY CW for this chapter: Brief description of childhood physical/sexual abuse; flashbacks; dissociation; blood/physical injury; dacryphilia.

You're in for a very rough but very important ride.

Chapter Text

"What the fuck did you just say." 

It was a statement, not a question. If he were still fully in control of his body, Sylvain might have felt the color drain from his face, the way his stomach dropped as he uttered the words. But he wasn't. He was a shell, frozen in horror.

*

Miklan.

His brother's brutal touch in a thousand different ways. The highway at age seven, wind whipping through his hair as his older brother opened the door of the family car and just...casually pushed him out. His bed most nights, at ages nine and ten and eleven and twelve like clockwork. Tearing metal. A bestial scream. A bestial scream.

*

Sylvain remained silent and watchful, keen eyes fixed on Felix. 

This was on the other end of the spectrum. The wrongest of the wrong.

This wasn't his Sylvain.

Felix watched as the large man turned to him slowly, locking eyes with him. Where there had been soft brown eyes were now dark and sharp, boring into Felix.

Something had changed. The tension in the air was palpable, and the hair on the back of Felix's neck stood on end. He swallowed dryly as his eyes darted to the door and back to the other at the end of the room. A sense of fight or flight had taken over him.

He willed himself to respond. His voice was barely a whisper.

"I said, you couldn't control what Miklan did back then...and you can't be expected to now."

The tightly wound rubber band that was holding Sylvain together snapped.

"I fucking know that!" His voice was ragged with emotion. "That's the problem, Felix! No one gives you a...a road map for this shit. Nobody tells you how to deal with a dad who only sees your pretty face and potential to carry on the family name. Nobody tells you how to handle it when your older brother suddenly decides he hates you and tries to kill you in so many different ways that you lose count. Nobody tells you what to do when he comes into your room every night..."

The rage was gone. He sank to his knees, crying silently now, voice thick with tears.

"You don't get it, Fe. I would give anything to control it."

Many things happened all at once.

The assumption Felix had made regarding his terrible brother, terrible father, terrible fucking family, they were all too true. It fucking pained him to have his paranoia confirmed. Hatred, disgust, and utter despondence boiled in his gut.

In the same instant that his partner dropped to his knees, Felix was there curled around him with Sylvain's head at his stomach and his arms draped over the taller man's back.

Though he was never one to be emotional, let alone be someone else’s emotional support, Felix found himself bent over and crying softly now, whispering affirmations and quiet shushes into Sylvain’s thick mop of hair. 

"Shh... It's been hard. I can only imagine. You've been so strong for so long. You don't need to carry that all on your own. Shh. Not anymore. Just, let it out."

At the first hint of tears in Felix's voice, Sylvain tensed in alarm. He'd fucked up again; the last thing Felix needed was to get upset when he was already unwell.

But then that beautiful, vulnerable, heartbreaking voice was in his ear, giving him comfort, saying all the things Sylvain had waited almost thirty years to hear from someone else. It had been years since he'd last truly cried. He'd forgotten what it was like, let alone that he was capable of it.

This time, instead of reflexively trying to comfort Felix and push his own feelings aside, Sylvain allowed himself to be comforted. He clung tightly to his partner, fingers twisted in the fabric of his oversized shirt.

At the feeling of the tight grip at his back and the open cries, Felix relaxed. For the first time since he left Sylvain's room this morning, he felt at ease, an eerie calm descending over him as he comforted his partner.

There was no way this was over. There would be many more moments defined by strife and struggle, but here in this second, he was calm and at ease. He didn't have much, but right now, he was the support Sylvain needed. For the first time since he could remember, Felix felt needed.

Felix sank even closer, sheltering Sylvain. He nuzzled at his soft hair with small specs of dampness; his roots smelling of Sylvain at his most essential.

"Whatever you need, let me provide it. Please. I love you."

For once, Sylvain was obedient: he cried it out, dampening Felix's collar, sniffling and sighing into his hair. Then he drew back and offered an unsteady, watery smile.

"I love you, Fe. I just wish I wasn't so fucked up. Neither of us should have to carry that."

He swiped at his tear streaked face with his arm, then leaned in to kiss Felix gently.

He was selfish, but Felix wanted him to be. Just a little. Or maybe, it had been so long since Sylvain took care of himself that even self-preservation felt like selfishness.

"Fe," he said quietly, placing a hand on the other's knee, "do you want to talk about what happened during the countdown?"

Positions in stature switched, Felix looked down upon Sylvain for the first time. Radiant, soft smile, tear streaks and all, Felix had never seen him so raw, so naked. In this moment, Sylvain had never been more beautiful to him.

Felix accepted and returned the soft, chaste kiss as he ran fingers through his hair. The gentle hand on his knee, the question he knew would be asked...Felix wasn't ready for it...but over the last few weeks, what had he been prepared for?

Inhaling for five, holding for four, exhaling for five.

Felix nodded.

"Yeah. I want you to know."

He stepped back and held his hands out to help Sylvain up. They weren't going to be on the floor for this shit.

Sylvain rose from the floor on shaky legs and moved to the bed, gently pulling Felix with him. He resumed the position they'd been in the night before: Sylvain's back to the wall, Felix between his thighs. He bent his knees and curled his legs around the smaller man's midsection, drawing him in close to his body as though he could be a fortress.

Felix wanted him to know. The raw candor took Sylvain completely off-guard; even with the openness, the softness they'd shown each other, this was a new level for Felix. His phrasing was succinct as always, but there was something different in his tone, something laid bare for only Sylvain to see.

He released Felix's hair from its tie and began to card his fingers gently through it, making soft humming noises to both calm the man and let him know it was okay to speak.

As they had done before, Sylvain led and Felix followed. Moving around Sylvain came as second nature to him. There were natural carve outs between the two, both complementary pieces to the same fucked up puzzle. It was incredible. For everything Felix missed, Sylvain had it. For everything Sylvain was missing, Felix wanted to provide it.

Two pieces of the same fucked-up puzzle.

With his shoulders drawn and arms slotted down in front of him, Felix's smaller frame was encompassed by the other man. His head lolled back for a moment into the calming ministrations that were Sylvain's fingers, both confident and comforting. Felix could do this. He could talk about it...

He inhaled a labored breath for five; held it for four; exhaled shakily for five.

With his gaze pointed down at his hands, Felix continued in that same shaky voice.

"When I get lost, when I go down, it's always the same thing. I go back to the day my brother and father died on the first triple occurrence." With every word, the tremor was replaced with a flatter tone as the light left his eyes and his affect dulled. "It was when I was still in the academy before I went into pilot training."

He paused, closing his eyes as if he were trying to recall or block out details.

"We had...issues, the three of us. All too stubborn, all too similar to do anything about it."

At this point, Felix was telling this story to the small space between their bodies and if anyone happened to be in the area, they might be able to overhear. 

"We got into a fight. A bad one. I punched Rodrigue. Glenn told me to get out. I said some things that I shouldn't have when I left."

Felix sighed, letting his chin fall to his chest. 

"That was the last time we had spoken until the triple occurrence." He let out a bitter laugh. "For some reason I had this revelation, a fucking come to Jesus moment where I decided I was being stupid all that fucking time ago. And so, I had the time and I went to see them in person."

There was no emotion left in Felix's voice now. 

"I've had security clearance since I was a child and was in the control center at the time. We had just initiated contact and were speaking with them through the comm system when they were surrounded by the triple occurrence. It wasn't long, but I saw and heard the whole thing."

Fragmented, jagged rips of blue metal; blood spilling out adding insignificant color to the dark water filling up the cockpit swallowing up the last of the screams and the internal power.

Felix sat still, stiff as a board. Even as he concluded his tale, not a single tear was shed.

Sylvain's breath left him in a harsh gasp and he draped his arms over Felix from behind, lacing his fingers over the other man's chest. Unlike Sylvain, Felix was calm when he talked about the past. The way he told the story...it was like it hadn't even happened to him. He became a statue--a corpse, Sylvain thought with a shudder. He pulled his partner even closer, wishing he could be a protective shell for Felix and shield him from any more pain.

"Fe. I'm so sorry." 

Sylvain always hated that particular phrase, that empty expression of sympathy. But it wasn't empty; he felt it down into his soul. And then he felt guilty for all the times he'd spoken callously of Margrave and Miklan, eager for their deaths. How many times had he joked that he'd throw a party when they both finally went?

He rubbed his cheek against his lover's and murmured meaninglessly to him in a soft voice, trying to bring him back.

Felix dully blinked as he was pulled back to Sylvain’s chest. He hadn’t really ever told anyone this. Not even close. Saying it out loud, giving life to the truth that he had lived with for years, Felix didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t, really.

Sylvain’s head at his own cheek registered as a comforting feeling. But he was still far away. The “thanks ” he gave in response wasn’t intended to be insincere; it was all he had.

Sylvain's already-bleeding heart dropped to the floor and made a helluva goddamn mess beneath them. He clutched Felix tighter as he turned the man around; it was like touching a mannequin and he suppressed another shudder. He tried to keep his grip sure and comforting but he was beginning to wonder, frantically, if he would ever get his partner back. Sylvain pressed their foreheads together and began to plant small kisses on his lips and forehead and jaw. The more time went on, the more anxious he became. He refused to succumb to the storm brewing in his own head and succeeded. But each touch became softer, more tentative, more doubtful. More hopeless.

Again, moving on Sylvain's lead, Felix was pliant in his grasp. The constant touches, kisses, contact began to settle, re-grounding Felix. His eyes fluttered, blinking hard trying to refocus on the large man right in front of him.

Felix mumbled incoherently before letting his body sag forward. Leaning into Sylvain's movements, he let his head loll forward, resting his forehead against Sylvain's own. Felix's mind was a cloudy haze, unable to focus on anything specific, lest it return to what had seeped into his consciousness so easily. 

"Sylvain..."

With lips that moved in slow-motion, he leaned in to press a soft kiss to Sylvain's nose.

His next inhale was in the form of a shocked little hiccup. He brought his hands up and clasped them around the still-tense nape of Felix's neck, pulling him closer until they were sharing breath. For once, Sylvain was breathing for a reason other than keeping himself alive at the basest level. He was trying to breathe for Felix, for both of them, now.

"Fe. You came back." His eyes stung with unshed tears and he bumped his nose against Felix's before planting another kiss to his lips. "Where...where did you go?" Sylvain was almost afraid of the answer.

"I'm here, Sylvain. Always been." 

Felix did his best to try and shake the fog of whatever morass he had found himself in. His eyes seemed to go cross, two heads of red hair instead of one. He furrowed his brows, blinking hard, the shocks of bright color finally merging, two brown eyes instead of three and a half. Felix brought his hand up, pawing clumsily at his chest, gripping weakly at Sylvain's shirt, the same size as the one he wore.

Closing the small difference, Felix pressed his lips into Sylvain's, mouthing open in whining gasps. 

"I'm here...there's so much." 

"So much what, Fe?" he whispered back against Felix's lips. The tip of his tongue slipped out on instinct and he immediately drew it back, horrified with himself. This was the absolute wrong time for that bullshit.

Sylvain wound his fingers loosely into Felix's hair, something that had become more than a bit of a habit since their first time in the jaeger (well, second time overall). Then he reached out with his other hand and gently wiped away Felix's tears with his thumb.

"Hurt. "

Felix barely said the word, nothing more than a whisper on the wind. He turned his head leaning into the swipes of Sylvain's thumbs with a watery grimace. It wasn't until he needed the heavy inhale where his breath caught that he realized he had been weeping. Tears slipped down his face as he still kept contact, dragging his lips against Sylvain's own. Eyes shut tightly, he quietly choked out, "Why does it still hurt? "

"Because it's always gonna hurt, Fe."

Sylvain thought back to his own past hurts. They couldn't compare with Felix's, not because they were inferior in some way but because they were so different. All he could do was follow Felix's lead, moving with the tide of his lips, fingers steadily drying his face as the tears continued to fall.

'Because it's always gonna hurt, Fe. '

He knew that, but yet, he still asked the stupid question. He was far enough into this that he knew the pain was as much part of him as the memory was. Memories were a fickle thing, too. Accompanied by the flashbacks of the scanner, Felix felt like he could smell the very blood that seeped out of the body torn from its harness while the other waited for water to fill its lungs. 

But...that wasn't right.

He could see it spilling as much as he could hear the panicked screams. But smell? That was one sense he hadn't associated with this particular memory, which only meant one thing. That rusty smell was here.

Felix nosed at Sylvain's hand, the smell similar to oxidizing rust filled his senses. He brought his hand up, grasping Sylvain's wrist, turning it to look at his palm. On the calloused skin were four punctures, none yet closed, the blood pooling around them in the creases of his palm lines. With a vise-like grip, Felix lavished attention on each cut, tonguing at the slits in the skin, lapping at the bright red blood. His hot breath, puffing around his palm, moaning into his pointed tonguing motions, tasting everything that was Sylvain, the salt from his sweat, the metallic tang from his blood, all Sylvain.

Felix felt himself stiffen as he moved to the next wound.

"Holy shit, Fe."

It was the only thing that came to mind as the sensation of Felix licking at each of the shallow wounds and the obscene soft lapping sound that accompanied the action flooded his senses. He found himself pressing his hand closer to Felix's face, long fingers arching backward away from his palm to allow the other man better access.

While Felix was preoccupied, Sylvain leaned forward and began to lick the tears from his face. No more kisses--it was perverse, but he found himself getting worked up, and for once it was not because he was thinking about choking Felix with his cock.

Felix's tears were salty and steady and he gripped his face with his red right hand as he lapped at them, leaving smears of blood. When he eased Felix onto his back to straddle him, Sylvain found that he was in a similar state below-the-belt and smiled against his scarlet cheek. He'd made him cry before, but this was so much sweeter.

"But what's it like? Really like. To lose a brother...it sounds so painful. I wish I could feel that way," he breathed. It was mild, but you didn't drop a live frog into a pot of boiling water and expect it to stay there.

As Felix was gently laid back, he kept Sylvain's hand to his mouth. Sylvain's hot breath against his cheek did nothing but spur on his most base actions. His hips canted up, grinding against whatever he could get to of Sylvain's straddled stance.

When the blood flowing from the shallow wounds died down to a trickle, Felix pressed his lips hard into his skin. He was busy suckling all he could from the wound when Sylvain's breathy, fucked up words registered.

Felix looked up at him through thick, dark eyelashes and lust-addled eyes. His answer came in a low rumble.

"It fucking hurt. You want to feel a fraction of that pain?" 

"You know I fucking do. Give me all of it. I can take it."

Sylvain moved his head to the side, wrenching the collar of his shirt away from his neck in a silent invitation. Felix bit down hard on the tense muscle between his neck and shoulder and began to rut slowly against Sylvain.

Sylvain ground his hips down and back, feeling both dirty and satisfied at the moan that escaped his lips. At the sharp press of teeth on his skin, he moaned again and squeezed at the back of Felix's neck.

"No, really, tell me. Show me exactly how much it hurt. Show me where it hurt, how it felt to see it in real-time. It was a horrible death, Fe. They died suffering. Show me."

The words were beyond fucked up, but Sylvain's tone was soft and tender as he drove home the final nail.

"At least they died together.

 

Sylvain's words washed over him like a wave. They were terrible, awful things, but they made him energized. They made him feel fucking alive. He was hyperaware of his surroundings. He wanted to tear into the man above him, find out if he was just as energized. Felix bit down with a savage pulse when he heard a knock on the door and his name being called.

clang clang clang

“Fe?”

He opened his jaw wider, unlatching his teeth from marks that were already beginning to bloom purple against pale freckled skin.. Eyeing Sylvain with pointed amber eyes, he made no move, only speaking one weighty word.

"Off."

Sylvain nodded, more than sated for now. Some poor dumb asshole had the audacity to interrupt them when they were connecting, really connecting to one another as they learned a new language together: pain.

"Who is it?" he called, but opened the door just a crack. He scowled at the sight of one familiar, infuriating blue eye.

Felix sat up, taking in his surroundings. That's right. They were in his room. They were just...Felix didn't know what to call what they were just doing, but, like most things, calling it a name was of little importance to Felix. Only what was felt and who it was felt with mattered. The answers, respectively, everything, spanning from pain to pleasure and Sylvain.

When Sylvain opened the door, even in the sliver of light that filtered through, he saw the stringy mess of blonde hair. Who else would it have been? No one else called him Fe.

He padded over to the door beside Sylvain, opening it up wider and stepping forward. The two spoke for a minute, Dimitri expressing his worries and again, apologizing. Felix put his hand up, brushing his co-pilot's arm fleetingly. 

"Don't worry. This was our first run. It's not going to happen again, right? You or me."

He shot him a look that seemed to pacify and relax the man.

Before bidding him goodbye, Dimitri's hand went to his face, stroking along his jaw. Felix froze with wide eyes.

“Are you bleeding, Fe?”

With a shaky hand, Felix reached up, roughly scrubbing at his face. 

"Yeah, I must've had a scab and picked at it, I must have not seen it. Thanks."

Dimitri's eye went above him, falling coldly on Sylvain.

"It's mine," Sylvain said quickly, holding up his palm. He had not failed to notice the way Felix's touch grazed over Dimitri's arm the way he'd come to view as his and his alone. But his face remained the very picture of pleasant neutrality even as the larger man raised a hand to touch Felix. His Felix.

Sylvain bit back a snarl as he raised his own hand to brush Dimitri's away, gently rubbing Felix's cheek until the dried blood was gone.

"See, Dima? No harm done here. Only victim so far is me." 

Sylvain tugged at the collar of his shirt just enough to expose the rapidly blooming bruise at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, eyeing the man with a triumphant smirk.

                                                               

Could he not keep with the fucking story for one goddamn minute?!

Felix turned slowly facing Sylvain as he had just enough time to clock 'Dima' and that he showed the bite mark that was already turning a dark puce. If Felix's eyes got any bigger, well. They couldn't. They. Just. Couldn't.

Dimitri's eye fell on his neck, then to Felix.

“'I see. Do be careful. It's late and I just wanted to check on you.”

Felix answered reflexively, "Thanks, appreciated. See you tomorrow."

Had Felix not been in such a hurry to shut the door, he might have caught the look and the tone the blonde took. 

“Oh, you will.”

*

 

With a slam of the door, Felix wheeled on Sylvain.

"The fuck was that? If I start a line, fucking follow it! Have you never needed to do that?"

"Hey, Fe, c'mon! You saw the way he looked at me after you said it."

Sylvain frowned, brows knitting together. He bit back a comment about the familiar way Dimitri had touched Felix, realizing how fucked up and possessive it would sound. 

Instead, he added in a softer tone, "He's really thirsty for you, you know. Like, down bad for you. And while I trust you, I'm not going to just sit idle and watch someone disrespect our fucking relationship like that!"

"And your whole 'the only victim here is me' thing. That part of the reaction too?"

Felix didn't know why he was so annoyed with this, but it irked him. Similarly, Dimitri's unbidden touch to his face, that was...he didn't like that. But Dimitri was Dimitri, and he did seem like he was worried.

At Sylvain's last point, Felix shook his head. 

"He's not thirsty for me at all. He got laid on the regular and I doubt there's any difference here. If he wants anything, he can go get it." 

Felix recalled Dima and Glenn going out on the town and the stories they had accumulated over their many travels to many reputable and establishments of ill-repute. 

Felix conceded, "While I admit the face thing was weird, it was blood and he already looked freaked out. It probably just added to the whole situation."

Felix took a breath before wrapping his arms around Sylvain's waist. "No one should disrespect our relationship and we won't let them, but there was nothing there that was disrespectful."

"Oh my fucking god, Felix." Sylvain didn't pull away from the embrace entirely, though he did take a half-step back. "I know it's probably weird for you because you grew up with the guy and all, but it's plain as fucking day."

He thought of the way Dimitri had held Felix after he collapsed, the way his eyes had raked hungrily over his partner every damn time he saw him. The way he'd touched Felix's face had been so intimate it actually hurt, as if he'd done it before. Often. Probably countless times.

"Fe, I...I just get a bad vibe from him, okay? Like he still wants something more. Trust me, I know that look because I used to give it out."

The way that Sylvain pulled back from him when he was trying to calm him down rubbed Felix the wrong way. He wasn't only very receptive and responsive to touch, but also from the lack thereof. 

He furrowed his brows as he listened, frown growing deeper and deeper. Felix wanted terribly to refute his last statement, but what could he do? That was his opinion that he was basing on his own experiences. That in itself was concerning and aggravating. But there was no use in getting angry over it now...

"At this point, I think he just wants a co-pilot that doesn't try to take down the entire hanger, but fine since you're so well-versed in bad vibes." 

"Look, all I know about the guy is that you grew up together and you kissed a lot, though apparently I'm better. Because of course I fucking am," Sylvain said bitterly, finally speaking his earlier thoughts.

He saw Felix beginning to struggle from the loss of his touch but couldn't bring himself to do it right now, not with the image of Dimitri's stupidly large and clumsy hands roaming, unworthy, over his partner's body

"Know how you felt when we found out they paired me with 'Thea?" Sylvain used the nickname intentionally even though he'd never even thought of calling the woman herself that. But he couldn't stop himself or his stupid fucking mouth. "That's how I'm feeling right now, Fe."

'Because of course I fucking am.'

Head cocked to the side, Felix let out an amused huff. Sylvain was cocky, but whenever he was, he could always back up his shit, personally or professionally, you name it. Felix loved that about him.

When next he spoke, Felix was ready to acquiesce. He didn't care to be fighting about something that didn't fucking matter. And in the scheme of their relationship? Dimitri didn't.

'Thea.

Memories of how his stomach dropped when they initially read the folio with Dorothea as the assignment, about how Dorothea cooed at him at dinner, and about how absolutely in sync he and... 'Thea were in Adder...in their jaeger.

He remembered those feelings and more all too well.

Felix released his hold instantly, stepping towards and opening the door. 

"If that's the case, you'll want to take time for yourself to process it. Don't let me stop you."

Sylvain saw bright-fucking-red at the last dig. Unfortunately, Felix was excellent at getting under people's skin and now that he'd seen the darkest depths of Sylvain's mind, he knew just where to hit. He wanted so badly to throw his own compassion in Felix's face, the way he'd comforted him through his jealous feelings...

"Funny you should say that, Fe," he drawled, eyes flashing angrily. "I seem to remember letting you fuck me into the mattress to assert your dominance after that whole shitshow." 

Never mind that he loved every single moment of it--the pleasure, sure, but the intimacy. The possessiveness. The connection.

He bit hard into his lip, setting his mouth in a thin, unhappy line.

Flabbergasted. Annoyed. Hurt. In the absence of structure, of rules, of *logic,* Felix was forced to resort to how things made him feel

More shock than venom was in his voice.

"Asserting my 'dominance '?" Felix paused, letting the words sink in. "You think that's what that was?"

There was a possessiveness, of course. But that stemmed from the connection that he felt, not some, carnal need to what, mark his fucking territory?

At this point, Felix hadn't ever seen their intimate moments for anything more than just that, intimate expressions from mutually-consenting people. Felix's face morphed into something hesitant and unreadable and he asked in a pointed voice, eyes narrowed, "Is that what you automatically expected to do to me then? Assert your dominance over me?"

*

Miklan never said as much, but he'd been asserting his own dominance over Sylvain since his younger brother was seven years old and he tried to kill him for the first time. When Sylvain was nine, he added fucking to the mix.

*

Sylvain shuddered and looked at Felix in horror, utterly repulsed. For a moment, he felt as though he might even be sick

"How the fuck," he gritted out, willing himself not to cry, "could you ever say something like that?" 

It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but then they'd actually entered the privacy of Felix's room and apparently, Felix decided he wanted to fight instead. 

The look of shock and disgust on his face was not lost on the shorter man.

Felix immediately shot back, gesturing with an outstretched hand.

"Because you said it first!"

Smooth.

Hopefully with an only slightly better argumentative tactic, Felix followed up with, "It's never once crossed my mind until you just fucking said it when you accused me of doing that!" 

"Oh, really? Then why the fuck did you pounce on me literally the second we got back after that fucking mess with Dorothea and Dimitri?"

Sylvain was back to using full names now, but it did not by any means indicate that he was done. No; he was just getting started.

He strode across the room from Felix and scowled viciously at the other man. There were no words, no matter how hard he searched.

At last, he said, "And then going with ' my ' Sylvain when you could have picked literally anything in the world. What is that if not marking your territory, Felix? And what about this mark on my neck, the one that's got you so pissed off to begin with?"

He tugged his collar down violently, exposing the bruise.

 

Because we both wanted to and feel the most connected, the most real, the most intimate we could?

Because don’t we want to feel like we belong to each other? Not that one of us is subservient or less than the other?

Because you wanted to share in the pain I felt and I wanted to share that with you freely?

All these things ran through his mind. And Felix said exactly none of them.

A sad calmness came over him, a solemnity as he opened the door wider.

“I’m not fucking fighting with you over this. Go to bed.”

The flatness in Felix's face and voice unnerved Sylvain and he turned his back on the other man, blinking back angry tears now. 

"Fine. Good night."

A hearty fuck you was on the tip of his tongue, but the small part of him that was still rational reminded him that it was a fucked-up thing to say to your partner. So he didn't.

*

He slept fitfully and found himself staring at the wall separating them until dawn broke.

*

The only saving grace for his sleep that night was due to the physical and emotional toll the day’s failures had on him. He slept like the dead and felt like it too when he woke.

*

As much as Felix loved physical confrontation, he wasn’t looking forward to literally any more fights with Sylvain…but he had a job to do. And that job currently involved not just laying in his room until the cows come home.

Felix dressed in a shirt that fit his own size before leaving his room.

Chapter 13: Judi Fruity

Summary:

"Watch me. I'm going to make you proud."

I'm going to make you proud.
...

"You'll always make me proud, Fe. No matter what. Now c'mon, I'll walk you to school."

Chapter Text

Unable to find rest, Sylvain stalked out of his room wearing yesterday's clothes and headed for the jaeger bay. He wasn't scheduled for his Drift test with Dorothea until the afternoon, but he had nothing better to do. Especially now that Felix was no longer speaking to him, apparently. Again.

As he sat down in the same spot he'd been yesterday, too (points for consistency), he began to wonder whether they weren't just a little too old for this petty argument shit. Then again, everything between them had been moving faster than light speed. They'd crashed into each other and been weirdly compatible in all areas. But Felix's stubbornness, and his own overall fucked-up-ness...he wondered numbly if they'd be able to make it work at all as he watched the other cadets mill about on the floor below.

Felix’s feet took him to the main jaeger bay. With any luck, he could take some time to get his head straight before his day began in earnest. He walked in between the jaegers at the lower levels, working his way up through the orderly rows. His eyes flicked continuously between Adder and Grim Reaver for very different reasons. Seeing Adder was always seeing something familiar, like going to a home he'd never really had.

Meanwhile, Grim Reaver...even the paint job looked off to Felix. Far too blue…too close to Shield Bearer’s blue. Felix shuddered and leaned against the railing in an attempt to steady himself. Head in his hands, he scrubbed against the sides willing away the apt or not comparisons. He needed to get it together…this was when they were expected to train in earnest and regardless of his feelings towards Dimitri, with Sylvain’s words in his mind, he knew he needed to be a better vessel for a successful copilot. 

Sylvain felt a melancholy tug at his heart as he watched Felix enter the jaeger bay and head over to Grim Reaver. He looked wrong next to the cold blues of the machine, and Sylvain felt another emotion rise up in him: fear. Felix was going into that thing again with...that thing. And what if he tapped out again? What if it was worse this time, if his Felix got lost and his new, shitty copilot couldn't bring him back and he lost him forever...

He couldn't leave things like this.

"Fe!" he called from his perch, feeling a mixture of hope and dread.

The way that his heart pounded and his chest felt lighter immediately upon hearing Sylvain’s voice was like nothing else Felix had ever experienced. His head immediately shot up to find Sylvain's long frame draped over the railing above. Again, it was as if they were magnets, he was drawn to Sylvain. Abandoning whatever he was doing, he walked, making his way up to where Sylvain sat, legs dangling in the air. He didn’t know where they stood from last night and didn’t take a seat next to him in case Sylvain wasn’t ready to accept him at his side yet. Instead, Felix stood next to him, leaning against the railing.

“Hey. Been here long?”

Sylvain looked up at Felix. He seemed guarded, but he hadn't told Sylvain to fuck off. In fact, he'd chosen to be here...with him. He looped an arm around Felix's calf and gently tugged him closer: a silent I missed you.

"Yeah, got here about an hour ago? There's something weirdly calming about watching all those people moving around like they have a purpose, like there's some kind of sense or order to their days." The words were wistful and he leaned his chin on his free arm with a sigh. "How you doing?"

The tug at his calf was a surprise, but it was more than welcomed. Felix scooted closer, hand threading through his hair, a silent response: I missed you too . Felix hummed noncommittally as he replaced his hand on the rails, watching the people below milling in and out, back and forth.

"Almost fools you into thinking we know what the fuck we're doing, huh?" Glancing to his side, he regarded Sylvain out of the corner of his eye. "Not great. Slept like shit."

He wanted to say that the bed was too big, but what kind of Princess and the Pea shit was that? His eyes scanned back over to the jaegers being prepped. "I'm nervous about today's run. I came to try and clear my head." Stepping back, he laid his head on his arms, looking down at Sylvain.

"What about you?"

"Same thing," Sylvain said in response, agreeing with the sleep (he'd gotten exactly none) and the nerves (mostly for Felix, but he was going to lie about that one). His eyes skimmed his partner's lean form and he felt a tug at his heart. He rose to his feet and wrapped a cautious arm around Felix's waist to draw him close. There was something so comforting, so grounding about being near him, touching him. "I couldn't sleep last night," he said quietly. "Kept thinking about you."

The arm around his waist made his stomach clench. There was something so integral about the other man's touch now that Felix could hardly help himself or even explain exactly what Sylvain did to him. Only that his body ached for Sylvain’s presence.

“If it weren’t for earlier when I passed out, I think I’d be in the same spot.” Felix moved in close, nosing a soft kiss to his jaw, keeping his eyes upturned at Sylvain. “I’m sorry to have kept you up.” Lower now: “Sorry for everything.”

"Me too, Fe. This fight was fucking dumb. But...this is new to us, too. Guess we're just two stubborn idiots in love." Sylvain leaned down at the same moment he tilted Felix's head up, pressing their lips together. It was brief and innocent but it soothed him just the same. "Love you, Fe. And I trust you. Let's not do that again."

Tilting his head in Sylvain’s guiding hand, Felix met his lips. It was a small, chaste thing, but the motion sealed their feelings as much as it bookended their words.

“Love you back.” Felix allowed his eyes to flutter shut for a moment, taking in not only comfort in his presence, but the distinct feeling of being in his heart of hearts. “You going to be around to watch our trial run and see if I fall again?”

It was a joke, kinda.

Sylvain stiffened slightly at the dark joke before giving a short but genuine bark of laughter. He cuddled Felix even closer to him, his other arm coming around to embrace him fully.

"If I can't be in there with you, I'm gonna be as close as possible to you," he said. "And I wanna be here in case... Dimitri needs me again. He doesn't know you like I do, but it's not his fault."

Getting the man's name out without even a shred of bitterness was a struggle, but Sylvain felt relieved once he had. He began petting Felix's hair gently as he watched the doors to the bay for the other man's arrival. Hopefully he'd have his shit together this time.

At the bark of laughter, the snug wrap of his arms, Felix felt at ease. When Sylvain continued speaking, Felix found no strained bitterness, no animosity, and no disbelief or lack of trust. Only Sylvain. Only his supportive partner . Felix leaned back and pulled Sylvain's face to his and planted a fierce kiss on his lips. Separating, he pecked Sylvain, keeping close. One could hear the smile as he spoke.

"Watch me. I'm going to make you proud."

I'm going to make you proud.

It was such a small phrase, but Sylvain knew how monumental, how vulnerable it must have felt for Felix to say it to him. His heart swelled as he returned the kiss and planted a series of three little pecks on his lips, the tip of his nose, and his forehead. The sound of heavy doors opening drew his attention and Sylvain reluctantly looked away from Felix to see a large blonde man enter the hangar. He groaned inwardly but began to guide Felix along the catwalk and down the stairs.

"You'll always make me proud, Fe. No matter what. Now c'mon, I'll walk you to school."

Sylvain gave him a sly little smile and squeezed his shoulders affectionately.

 

Three kisses. Three points of contact. One reminder that he was still his Felix. As the two made their way down, Felix basked in Sylvain's words.

You'll always make me proud, Fe. No matter what. '

That he had someone to make proud, that he already had someone that was already proud of him. It meant more to Felix than he could explain. That acknowledgement, that trust, it was everything and something that Felix was direly missing. When they approached the bottom, Felix greeted his copilot with a curt nod before turning back to his partner. Stepping close, Felix rose to his tiptoes giving Sylvain a kiss on the cheek as his hand slid down his chest.

"I'll see you after."

Felix thought idly at how terribly domestic the whole scene was...he loved it. As he walked toward the entrance to Grim Reaver's cockpit shoulder-to-shoulder with Dimitri, he was filled with a new confidence: he could do this.

S ylvain's heart melted at the kiss. It wasn't the sort of kiss you might give a casual fuck or even a lover; it was the sort of kiss you'd give to the person you'd die for. Your other half. He ruffled Felix's hair affectionately, then reached behind him to tighten his hair tie before pulling him into a ferocious hug. "Love you, Fe," he whispered. "You'll do great." Then he made his way to a nearby ledge where he could perch and watch--or at least, imagine what his Felix might look like in Grim Reaver's cockpit. 

NeuroHandshake: Success R.A.B.I.T. Occurrence at 0% Drift Compatibility at 98.71% Training Exercise: Completed

"Dame Judi."

...

"Judi Fruity."

...

"Perhaps use the proper terminology." Dimitri's voice droned over Felix's, bland and practical.

"Harness, disengage, Judith. "

One (defiant) hiss of mechanical whirling later and Felix stepped out of the footholds. He met the large blonde man's handsome smile with a triumphant grin of his own. It was night and day. When they began, Felix had a clear heart and, in important part, a clear mind. He breathed into the countdown, relaxing in the void that was the Drift's entrance. Felix's clear conscience paired with Dimitri's well-managed blank slate resulted in a nearly unparalleled Drift.

As they exited the cockpit together, Dimitri asked in a low baritone, "Better?"

Felix returned a satisfied nod, though his eyes were locked forward, already searching for Sylvain.

"Much."

Sylvain was so excited and relieved to see Felix emerge in one piece that he didn't give even a fraction of a damn about the sight of them walking in tandem down the stairs leading to the cockpit. Not even when he saw the twin ghosts of smiles on the pair's face. He hefted himself down, nearly tripping in his eagerness, and ran to them.

"Fe!" Sylvain scooped him up in a bone-crushing hug, also not caring one bit that his partner--his real partner--probably hated being picked up. Even if he was small and kind of adorable in his spikiness. He placed those same three small kisses on his face, this time starting with his forehead. "I'm so glad you came back to me."

This time his voice was low, only for Felix. 

Felix’s eyes lit up as he met Sylvain on his rapid path forward. With one, two, three steps, he found himself lifted in a tight hold. He wrapped his legs around Sylvain's waist, hands going to broad shoulders to hoist himself up.  A head above, Felix dipped his own, pressing his forehead to Sylvain. In low voices, they exchanged words to and for each other’s benefit only. Felix hummed contentedly.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Sylvain smiled broadly and shifted Felix's weight to one arm so he could reach up to cup his chin for a small, sweet kiss.

"I'd certainly hope not."

He lifted his head to Dimitri and gave him a curt nod and a smile of thanks over Felix's shoulder. Maybe this new arrangement wouldn't be so bad; he was surprised that the burden of jealousy had (mostly) dissipated. But he still had his own drill to get through. In the meantime...

"What do you want now, Fe? What do you need ?" His voice was back to low and loving and confidential as he spoke.

"Food? Shower? Bed? I've got some time before my own bullshit this afternoon."

With a tilt, Felix freely met his kiss. Eyes up towards his plastered hair, there was only one answer.

“Shower. Definitely shower.”

Felix unhooked his wrists and ankles, landing back on the metal grates. He offered Dimitri a final look and nod.

“Good work today. I’ll see you around.” 

He paused only long enough to catch a curt nod from the other man before he was grabbing Sylvain's hand and practically dragging him toward the residential quarters.

Sylvain allowed himself to be led, trying very hard to focus on their main objective: Getting Felix cleaned up. Even though he dearly wanted to make an absolute mess of him first. When they reached the residential hall, he gave Felix a moment to gather his things and grabbed a towel of his own just to be safe. Just in case he decided he needed another shower, too, even though he'd taken one at three in the morning. Then he stepped out into the corridor and did his best to wait patiently.

It wasn’t more than a minute and he was back into the hall with his issued muted towel and all-in-one body wash, shampoo and conditioner. Seeing Sylvain with his own toiletries immediately relaxed Felix; he had made the decision completely on his own needs, rather than having to be asked…even though it was a given option, still

“I can go be quick. I didn’t even ask if you needed one. But...” Felix allowed himself a slow drag of his eyes over Sylvain’s form. “…I wouldn’t mind the scenery.”

"Oh, is that right?"

Sylvain finally gave himself permission to check Felix out. He took his time, starting with those slender thighs that knew just how to grip him, pull him close. Those hip bones that he loved to thumb and bite. The nipples...he couldn't let himself think about Felix's nipples right now. And his face, which now seemed to wear an expression of perpetual tenderness, but only for him. He didn't even comment on the horrible three-in-one; after all, it was the same one every cadet was issued and cruelly forced to use. "The scenery, huh? But if I don't need a shower, why would I get undressed?" he teased. 

Sylvain made Felix felt seen. At times, he felt naked and vulnerable, like he could see to who he truly was, the poor broken thing underneath the scowls and the unapproachable demeanor. And other times, it made Felix feel powerful and wanted. He loved the way Sylvain’s eyes roamed hungrily over his body…as they did now. Not yet letting his hand off the handle to his room, he arched a brow. He spoke with an amused tone.

“I can make it so you need one, if you’d rather.”

Though Felix succeeded in capturing his bottom lip with his teeth, he failed miserably in his attempt to tamp down the smirk that curled at his mouth.

Fuck.

Felix was so unpredictable in his seduction, and Sylvain loved it. He stepped forward briskly and grabbed Felix's hand, thumbing his lip away from his teeth. Because he absolutely could not handle what it was doing to him right now. When they reached the showers, Sylvain let go and practically dove for the first one, eternally grateful that they were alone. After testing the temperature of the water, he motioned to Felix and looked at him through his lashes with a molten gaze.

"Strip." 

Felix dropped the man's hand and followed with no arguments to Sylvain’s direction. Even with his limited experience, Felix was getting very familiar with the way Sylvain responded to specific stimuli. And with the desired reaction, he would be rewarded. (Which was to say they both would be because being with Sylvain was a fucking gift in itself.)

Fleet feet carried him into the showers where slow hands followed his given directive. Remaining on the topic of his experience, or lack thereof, Felix had never stripped for anyone. But as with anything with Sylvain, he wasn’t about to let his inexperience stop him. With deliberate movements, Felix began to undress. Already in his high-collared undershirt, he turned around as he gripped the bottom, pulling it off and over his head. Facing away from Sylvain, Felix wore a secret, wicked little grin. He stole a look back over his shoulder at Sylvain once he had full view of his bruise-dimpled back

Still fully clothed, Sylvain made his way to one of the benches and sat down with his legs slightly spread. He beckoned Felix closer, already feeling himself begin to strain against his pants. Even with Felix's obvious inexperience doing this, he still seemed to know exactly what buttons to push, and he showed it with the simmering glance he threw over his shoulder. He swallowed and slid his hand up his own thigh, motioning for Felix to come closer.

"You know what I meant. Everything. "

Felix’s eyes tracked Sylvain as he moved to one of the benches, spreading himself out. Shirtless, he complied moving closer to what he estimated was just outside of Sylvain’s impressive wingspan. Felix responded a delayed and sardonic, “‘Everything’, I got it.”

There was no heart in the dry tone. He was starting to understand this particular dance. His hands made slow work of their practiced motions, unbuttoning and unzipping his fly. He lowered his waistband, setting them against his fingertip bruised hipbones; his open fly just showing the thin line of hair from his navel to the thatch above his hardening cock.

"Such a tease," Sylvain murmured as he drew Felix closer by his belt loops. "But this is just fine for now, for what I have planned for you."

He leaned forward and circled Felix's navel with his tongue before running his teeth over those delightful sharp hipbones, his hands roaming up to grab gently just above Felix's waist. He was already so hard that it was becoming uncomfortable, but he was never one to abandon a mission. "I want to see," he said against Felix's soft skin and hard muscle, "if I can make you come without even touching your cock. I want to show you all the other parts of you I like without telling you, if you'll let me."

A slight chuckle escaped him as he was pulled by his belt loops towards Sylvain. Felix’s breath hitched when his dexterous tongue circled his sensitive skin of his navel. Biting his lip, Felix threaded his hands through Sylvain’s hair. He had no words. Felix breathed out, nodding with an open mouth, gawking.

Sylvain chuckled a little as well as he pulled Felix's pants down and pulled him into his lap.

"No objections, I see," he said as he positioned Felix in a straddling position facing him, careful to leave a small gap between them. God damn, he desperately wanted to fuck him. But Sylvain was curious and he liked a challenge, so he started with Felix's collarbones. As he dipped his tongue into the hollow and scraped his teeth over the bone he murmured, "I've only been able to do it once, you know. And it was by myself. But...I think we can make it happen, don't you?"



 

Chapter 14: (Un)Happy Ending

Summary:

"I'm not afraid to say, I love you. Anymore than I used to be, babe. I am scared to death. I am scared to death to fall in love. I'm not afraid to admit I adore you Any more than I was before babe I am scared to death/To fall in love with you."

*

"Say it again," he breathed, a dark and horrible grin spreading across his face. "Say it one more fucking time, Dima. Louder for the people in the back, sweetheart."

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"I want to see if I can make you come without even touching your cock."

Curious as to what this entailed, Felix dropped his full weight down to straddle Sylvain and contemplated the novelty of this position their last time together. Being situated above Sylvain, grinding down onto him...this was a new experience that he would definitely keep in mind for later. 

Right now, he was focused on whatever the fuck Sylvain wanted to do. Lolling his head opposite of Sylvain’s talented mouth, he answered in an extended sigh.

“If anyone could, you’d be the one.”

"Mmm, I know." Sylvain moved his hands to Felix's hips and held him still with a firm grip. "No moving. That's cheating, and then I'll lose. And you want me to win, don't you, Fe?"

Touching Felix's hips came a little sooner than he'd planned, but he wasn't about to complain. Instead, he danced nimble fingers from his hips to his thighs, sliding up to where the curve of his ass began.

"So, Fe. I also know that you've been touching yourself thinking about me ever since we first got assigned together. Am I wrong?"

His voice was a dark, silky purr against Felix's skin.

To the cocky answer, Felix rolled his eyes but stayed his hips with a nod. Whatever game this was, if Sylvain won, so would he. Good news was, if he lost, Felix assumed it would feel like a win anyway, so he would try to help Sylvain get the W. The soft sensations at his hips made Felix bite his lip. The subsequent question and the low, sultry voice ghosting his sensitive skin made him hum out.

“Mmm…you might have made an appearance. So what?”

The very thought of Felix jacking off, maybe even fucking himself with his fingers with only a wall between them, drew a twitch and a moan. He fought the urge to buck upward in search of friction and instead began to knead at the skin just above Felix's ass, careful to avoid the starscape of little bruises.

"Knew it," he said, with only a hint of smugness. "But now, I want you to tell me what you thought about. What you imagined."

He punctuated the last word with a generous lave of his tongue over Felix's nipple. 

His eyeroll was interrupted by the hiss of air that Felix let out when Sylvain switched his attention to his sensitive nipple, eliciting a breathy moan.

"You didn't know shit...hah...lucky guess."

How it could be a lucky guess was bullshit. Did you see this fucker? Tall, big frame, that stupid, big grin... It was odd that when Felix thought back, he actually had a hard time remembering what he thought about to get him to completion. Since that night in the mess hall, Felix hadn't once even thought about jerking off. And why would he? Both Sylvain and he were insatiable, and what was better? They were insatiable for each other. And acted on it. His hands went down, squeezing at Sylvain's brawny shoulders.

Looking around guiltily, he spoke quietly, "I...sometimes I would think of the showers here. All the bare skin...what it would be like to be between sudsy cheeks...or pressed against the wet tile..."

Sylvain took his nipple gently between his teeth, teasing the tip with his tongue. His left hand traveled up the lithe length of Felix's body to attend to the other, fingers caressing with a feather-light touch.

"So, you're all lathered up, and maybe I accidentally walk in on you..."

It had been a long damn time since he'd done anything like this, and Sylvain was surprised to discover how much he'd missed it. 

A low moan came out of him as Sylvain worked him over with his seductive mouth, and a second later, his left hand. Felix hesitated for a moment when he tried to make sense out of Sylvain's words, until it dawned on him what he was doing. He was creating a scenario, a choose your own adventure story...he had hated those books. But as anyone knew, if you didn't take your finger out of the original page, you hadn't committed yet! But maybe he could be better at this particular one. Felix arched his back, pressing his budding nipples into Sylvain's warm mouth and hand. Breaking the silence, he filled in his part.

"I...uh, I turn around. And I ask...if you see anything you like?"

Yeah, fuck those books.

"Mmhm, I definitely do. I run my hand down your back like this, and then kiss you up here. Three little ones."

His hands followed the narrative he was weaving for Felix--for them--as he spoke, stopping near the top of Felix's left shoulder blade.

"And I'm hard now, you know," he whispered as he tweaked Felix's nipple, referring to both Felix's fantasy and his own current state. Fuck, Sylvain thought he might come just from all this. It was very...un-Felixlike behavior for him to even be thinking about such things, let alone saying them.

Felix shivered as he felt Sylvain's large hand run up his spine, ending with a contented sigh at the tender touches. Again, another sign that was all theirs. Felix's cock strained between them as heat coiled in the pit of his stomach. Rolling his head, he peeked at the outline of Sylvain in his pants, glad that this wasn't just for him. He murmured, "I lean into you, rubbing my ass against your cock." Even though they had literally been inside each other saying that, it even sounded crude to his own ears.

Sylvain moaned again at the filthy admission. It was nothing he hadn't heard before, but the way the words sounded coming from Felix's lips was positively obscene. He reached down to free his own aching cock from the confines of his pants, then urgently grasped at Felix's ass. He massaged the cheeks and traced a finger between them but was careful not to press in, not just yet.

"Then I'm grinding against you just like this."

His hands moved up to cup Felix's ass where he usually made contact and released his nipple in favor of a heated kiss.

"I wanna be inside you so bad, Fe."

A shrill gasp sounded from his throat when his cheeks were grabbed abruptly with the slinking finger against his cleft. Felix groaned into his motions and with no little effort kept his hips still...or as still as he could. It was taking a herculean effort not to snap his hips back, getting the pressure he desired from Sylvain. Before he could complain about the loss of sensation at his nipple, Sylvain caught his mouth in a heated kiss; Felix moaned into his mouth, quivering at the intensity at which he was kissed. When Sylvain spoke, Felix responded...not well. Far more plaintive than intended and far more than Felix ever wanted to sound, he whined pathetically.

"Sylvain...I want to feel you inside me. Please?" 

Cheeks already flushed from the temperature of the stall and his arousal, his cheeks turned scarlet when he looked down at Sylvain, daring him to tease him.

"Mm, after I make you come, Fe," he breathed, the kneading of his fingers becoming more insistent. Fuck, he wanted that, too, wanted it more than anything. "You can't have me yet but if you're a good boy and come for me, I'll finish inside you."

That was certainly a promise he could make due on. This time, he latched onto Felix's neck, sliding one hand down and forward to press at the juncture of his thigh and hip the way he remembered Felix liked. But then again, how could he ever forget anything about him?

Felix let out an equally pathetic mewl of complaint and frustration upon hearing the response he should've expected.

"But you can make me come so good and so quick...I want your thick cock..."

Other than the whiny-ass tone he was using, Felix hated how absolutely bratty he sounded, but did that made a damn bit of difference? Maybe it would have before, but now, with everything they had been through, the shifting emotions, bodily fluids, natural reactions? Fuck no it didn't. With his expert touches and just the right amount of pressure, his leg nearly turned to jelly, awarding Sylvain with a low groan from his soul and an ungraceful hard hand to his chest as his knees buckled.

"F-Fuck."

God, Sylvain lived for Felix being a brat. It was one of the reasons he used to goad him, often badly enough to fuck up an entire drill.

"Then I shouldn't have any problem making you come like this, should I, Fe-lix?" he purred against the racing pulse at his partner's throat. He flicked his tongue out to lap at the soft, sensitive skin and let out another moan.

"Syl-vaaaain," he cried as his own cock wept. His hips stuttered in frustration. The feather light touches, warm breath, tantalizing touches. It was all too much and all far too little at once. He leaned into Sylvain's hands, trying to get any more of the pressure he was sorely missing. "More, I need more..."

Ask and ye shall receive. Sylvain plunged one finger into Felix, burying it to the third knuckle with a soft groan as he crooked the digit against the tight walls. One quickly became two and he scissored them, noting how easily, how beautifully Felix opened up for him.

"Mm, like that?"

His own cock was weeping and twitching between them; he, too, was close. But he resisted the temptation to grind up against his partner and instead sat back to gaze into his eyes as he fingered him.

The penetrating sensation made Felix's vision go immediately white. The dexterous, invasive second finger, however, that was all it took. Felix let out a strangled groan, that was equal parts frustration, surprise, and ecstasy. He fell forward, bending into Sylvain as his member throbbed, pulsing as he came hard. In the seconds after, Felix's hole quivered as he shook, breathing ragged breaths.

"There we go," Sylvain growled as he buried himself fully in Felix in a single, powerful stroke. Finally, he reached between them and took Felix's cock in hand to stroke him through the last of his orgasm. When Sylvain came hard into him after only a few deep thrusts, he leaned forward to capture Felix's lips and moaned his partner's name into his mouth. With each shuddering breath Felix took, Sylvain placed a small peck on his lips as he came down from his own high. 

Felix's shriek was swallowed by Sylvain's mouth with the powerful thrusts and the over-stimulation relentlessly given to him twofold. He folded against Sylvain limply as he shook in the aftershocks of his shattering orgasm. Gasping, chest heaving against Sylvain, he left three messy kisses on his hot skin.

Sylvain's heart soared at the kisses; he'd never expected to receive them but enjoyed giving them freely because it showed Felix that he was loved. That he was special. That he meant something. He gently pulled out and carried Felix under the stream of water, raising his hand to shield his partner's eyes. Then, balancing Felix in one arm, he reached for the horrible three-in-one and began to wash him, humming an old rock song to himself.

Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain with all the fleeting strength he had left in his arms in the warm steam of the showers. When the water hit his skin. Felix extended himself, stretching upwards and was rewarded with two pleasant pops. He gazed out from under the man's large outstretched hand at him as he hummed absentmindedly, preparing their all-in-one miracle toiletry. What was that...? Carding through his hair, he pushed back the dark blue mop; slicking it back, it fell straight nearly touching his shoulder blades. Face unobstructed, he looked at Sylvain lathering his hand when Felix placed the low, familiar tune.

With a dry laugh and a shake of his head, Felix sang lowly, "From a heart so black and blue, only for you." 

Scared to Death. How appropriate.

I'm not afraid to say, "I love you." Anymore than I used to be, babe. I am scared to death. I am scared to death to fall in love. I'm not afraid to admit I adore you Any more than I was before babe I am scared to death/To fall in love with you.

Sylvain smiled radiantly down at Felix and stopped humming after he'd sung a few lines. The slight responses to his voice suited the song and he found himself drawing the smaller man closer, cradling him bridal style to his chest.

"Thank you, Fe," Sylvain said when the song ended, giving him a long, chaste kiss before setting him gently in the ground. "I really love you, you know."

Felix met his plush lips as he was placed back on the floor; textured tile grout beneath his feet. With a small smile, looking up at Sylvain, Felix draped his arms around his neck, moving closer, standing skin to skin as the water fell off one body to another. He reached up, pushing back Sylvain's hair, caressing his cheek; eyes only for his partner.

"I know. And you know I love you back."

Then, a most unwelcome voice interrupted the moment.

"I hope it's safe to come in now."

Felix went rigid.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Sylvain swore.

He knew that if he said no, the dumb asshole boar would come waltzing right in anyway. He sighed and held a towel out for Felix to take, then gave him a kiss before heading to the door. "Love you back more," he said with a playful wink before heading to the door, unmindful of his sopping wet clothes that were now plastered to his body. He put on the most pleasant, fucked-out smile possible and opened the door. 

Felix promptly wrapped the towel around his lower half, slipping trying to wrangle the stupid fucking soap before joining behind Sylvain at the door...where Dimitri stood with the same sized towel that covered less area. His bulky chest and arms, lined with scars and muscle definition upon muscle definition. His muscular form led to a sculpted abdomen that dipped into a low, deep V where his towel hid the trail of light, blonde hair he knew lay beneath.

"You look quite satisfied, Sylvain."

Sylvain wrapped a protective arm around Felix, putting one leg in front of his in an attempt to shield him from the larger man's prying eyes. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that Dimitri had a damn nice body--maybe he could file it away for later discussion with Felix?--but scowled at the comment.

"I am," he said simply. He didn't know how far he could go without upsetting Felix, so he decided the fewer words he used, the better.

"Sounded like it."

Dimitri stepped forward, eyes sweeping Felix's half-naked frame as he passed.

"Especially you, Fe. You always did make the cutest noises. Too bad I never got to hear those."

Felix's eyes were positively owlish, his mouth falling slack.

He reached for Sylvain. To restrain him.

Sylvain took a step toward Dimitri, eyes blazing. He resisted the temptation to roll up his shirtsleeves--that could wait until later. 

"Well, Dima, that really is too bad. And you'll never get to, either." 

In a second impressive display of restraint, Sylvain did not mention all the delicious sounds Dimitri was missing out on. He stood with his shoulders back, head cocked playfully to one side...but his expression was fierce.

"Oh? Fe tell you the nickname he gave his first boyfriend? How nice. It's pretty fitting, don't you think? Finally partners after all these years, just like we always planned."

"What the fuck!"

Felix could only shout as he saw the unbelievable scene in front of him unfold.

Even with the ugly taunt, Sylvain still did not move toward the other man. He stood his ground, turning to Felix instead and placed a comforting hand on his face. He smoothed this thumb over his cheek for a moment and smiled tenderly before turning his head back to Dimitri.

It's okay, Fe. I've got this.

"Mmm, okay, so you were his first boyfriend, I'll give you that. But there are a lot of other firsts you also missed out on...a lot of non-sexual ones you'll never have."

Sylvain's tone was mockingly regretful as he looked at Dimitri with eyes full of scorn.

Felix was frozen on the spot; Sylvain’s touch registering as comforting without feeling it at all. All mental faculties were overloaded and blank all at the same time. From somewhere far away, he heard muffled words.

"That’s rich coming from you of all people, the notorious skirtchaser. I would dare say you don’t have that many more firsts to offer. You don’t seem to do “non-sexual” well, or at all, do you?"

Sylvain's mouth went dry as Miklan's voice echoed through his head: Useless. Fuck-up. Spoiled little bitch. Only good for fucking. People only know you as a hole-haver, Sylvain.

He lunged for Dimitri and managed to land a moderately successful uppercut despite slipping on the wet floor as he moved away from Felix. It wasn't the personal attack on Sylvain--it was the implication for Felix, that he wasn't special enough to get any firsts from Sylvain.

"Keep running your mouth, asshole," he snarled into Dimitri's face as he pushed him up against the wall. "I've dropped bigger motherfuckers than you."

Who the fuck did he think he was speaking of his Sylvain, of his partner like that?! That fucking spoiled prince attitude had never gone away. Rage boiled up and over in Felix as he stepped around Sylvain who was…moving… oh no.

“SYLVAIN, WAI-!”

Rushing over, Felix went to pull him back. But for once in his life, he wasn't quite fast enough.

Under his breath, outside of Felix’s knowledge, he breathed to Sylvain.

"Do it. I bet he’s a good little slut after a few weeks with you. I’ll be sure to remember to thank you when I’m on top of him, fucking his brains out."

Sylvain saw more than red. He saw colors that hadn't even fucking been invented yet. Dimitri was shirtless so that was a point against Sylvain: nothing to grab onto to help him bash that stupid blonde head into the tiles until it cracked open. 

Sylvain!

The cry barely registered as he violently snatched the towel from around Dimitri's waist and swung it in one hand to roll it up. He snapped it brutally against the larger man's thigh once, just barely missing his groin, then wrapped it around Dimitri's neck with the full and true intention of choking him the fuck out.

"Say it again," he breathed, a dark and horrible grin spreading across his face. "Say it one more fucking time, Dima. Louder for the people in the back, sweetheart."

Felix lunged forward after Sylvain, yelling, “Let him go! It’s not worth it! Stop!!”

Between Dimitri’s ragged wheezes and his screams, Sylvain’s voice cut through acutely, sending terrible shivers down his spine.

Dimitri was turning colors, yet wore a self-satisfied look.

"Lo-ok at y-ou. Mon-st-er."

Monster.

Huh. Well, unfortunately for the other man, Sylvain was more than okay with showing his monstrous side. Happy to do so, even. 

He managed to struggle free of Felix's grasp without dealing out any collateral damage and focused his sights on Dimitri. He took a chance and released his hold, though Sylvain kept his eyes trained on him.

"I know you're a monster too, you sick fuck," he spat. "Now show me just how monstrous you can be."

Felix was tossed back easily enough.

“Sylvain, please,” he choked.

Tears were welling in his eyes as he went again. This time, Felix shifted, coming into his path of Dimitri. “Sylvain. Enough. Please.”

Dimitri shoved Felix to the side, knocking him off balance before charging at Sylvain, tackling him to the hard floor.

Sylvain dove in a desperate attempt to catch Felix before he fell but wasn't quick enough; he shot out a silent plea to the universe that he'd be okay.

In the meantime, he was preoccupied with throwing Dimitri off him and onto his back before straddling his chest and punching him squarely in the face (even though a throat shot was what he really wanted). Then he leaned in close with a wicked smile.

"Felix doesn't kiss and tell, unlike you, you piece of shit," he hissed into Dimitri's ear in the soft tones of a lover. "If I ever hear you refer to him as a whore in any context again, I will personally tear off your miserable, worthless dick and serve it to you on a silver fucking platter. And I will stand there and watch you eat every. Single. Bite. Are we clear?"

Felix watched in horror from the floor as the two traded blows. On top of Dimitri now, Sylvain delivered one blow to his face, immediately causing blood to pool everywhere.

Felix scooted back against the tile wall. Holding his knees, he repeated his weak and pointless calls, “ …please stop.

It lacerated Sylvain's ego, but he heeded Felix's pleas. The thought of hurting Felix in any way far outshadowed any desire to completely fuck Dimitri up

He crossed over to his partner and wrapped comforting arms around him, muttering apologies into his still-damp hair. The boar-asshole was out cold, so he didn't have to literally watch his back anymore.

When Sylvain approached him with arms outstretched, Felix flinched away. There was some higher part of him that knew better that he had nothing to fear, but in the moment, Sylvain terrified him.

In the face of the brute strength Sylvain possessed, he also managed to show the intensity and the cruelty that was always just bubbling under the surface. This wasn’t his Sylvain…it was someone else entirely, and Felix’s mind went only to one person.

At some point, Felix had begun to shake, having nothing to do with his wet hair or cooling skin. Head down, he scrunched even further in on himself.

Sylvain stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Felix trembling and flinching away from him. His stomach dropped and his head spun as he looked between the two men, Dimitri's words echoing in his head.

Monster. You're a monster, aren't you?

He stood staring helplessly at Felix, who looked so small and vulnerable there on the wet tile. This wasn't right; he was supposed to comfort and protect Felix, not frighten him. All of the anger he'd felt toward Dimitri turned inward like a sucker punch.

"Fe, I..."

Weak.

Head down, staring at the off-white fabric, Felix bit into his lip. He was being a fucking pussy. He knew Dimitri had egged him on and Sylvain was just reacting, likely for his own benefit. Felix knew this on some fucking level, but for the life of him, he couldn't bring himself to focus on that truth. It was instead the terrible crunch of cartilage and bone that echoed in his mind. It was the sight of Sylvain wearing a sinister smile that looked at the same time foreign and fitting among his features.

Sitting here quivering , he wasn't doing anything. Beyond that, the broken voice he heard from Sylvain against the background of wet groans from Dimitri begged action be taken.

Felix lifted his head taking in his surroundings. Dimitri writhing on the floor filled him with a sick satisfaction mixed with cold dread. Yet seeing Sylvain, the fear on his own face, it broke Felix's heart.

Mind made up, Felix rose, steeling himself and summoning his most authoritative tone. "You need to go, Sylvain. This is bad enough and it'll be harder to explain with you." If he was a praying man, he would pray that Sylvain didn't fight him on this.

Walking past Sylvain to Dimitri, Felix picked up and unfurled the towel, tossing it over his lower half as he knelt to his side. Looking over the large man, if it wasn't clear Sylvain had broken his nose before, it was all but confirmed with an up-close glance. Upon closer inspection, the man still looked dazed-he could remedy that.

Felix reached down and pinched the bridge of his nose harder than he should've, earning a yell from the man. Felix's golden eyes narrowed as he hissed, " Shut the fuck up, Dima. You started this stupid shit." Releasing the ruined feature, he stood up. "Cover yourself up and pinch it yourself. We're going to medical."

Notes:

TW: Description of fist fight, blood, choking with towel, lots of fun stuff! Freud would LOVE this chapter.

Chapter 15: Invasive Drift

Summary:

Since Felix wasn’t going to ask the question, the burden fell to Sylvain. A foolish, anxious grin flickered across his face for a second before returning to its former warmth and sincerity.

"Marry me. I mean it, Fe."

Felix turned to Sylvain and held his gaze as it morphed into something…else. His mouth fell into a small o.

He believed Sylvain.

Chapter Text

Every age-old instinct, every fiber of Sylvain's being was screaming at him to stay, to fix this. To take the fall, no matter the consequences.

He gave Felix one last long, lingering glance with haunted, helpless eyes, then turned his back and began to walk briskly in the opposite direction. They were going to medical, so he needed to get as far away from medical as possible. And his stupid fucking drill was in an hour...

This was a fucking ordeal.

For once, Felix was more than thankful for the unapproachable image he had cultivated for himself. Nearly naked, he led the equally, yet somehow more naked-looking bloody Dimitri through the hallways leading to the medical bay daring anyone to make a goddamn peep.

(Un)fortunately, Felix being the poor, pitiful orphan of lauded pilots that he was afforded him more leeway than the average cadet. The nurses that did Dimitri’s intake knew best not to ask questions when Felix gave his account of how he injured his co-pilot when he was snuck up on. To his credit, Dimitri played his fucking part, staying silent and bleeding.

Once the other man had been taken away for treatment, Felix stalked back to his room, removing the bloodstained towel, screaming into his pillow for a moment before collecting himself. Then, he got dressed and made his way back to the jaeger hangar. His heart was with Sylvain. He hoped he hadn’t missed his run.

*

Sylvain sighed as he made his way to the hangar. People thought it was weird that he found it comforting to be here, just to watch the people or spend time with Adder. Even though he was stuck with Dorothea now, the left harness still belonged to Felix. Anything else just felt wrong.

He breathed a sigh and tried to bat away the remaining darkness in his head as he walked up to the jaeger and ran its hand along the smooth metal, comforting himself with the vibrant reds and blues. 

"Hey, Mia," he muttered under his breath, addressing the AI that couldn't hear him. "How you doing, old girl?" 

The giggle and flounce of Dorothea sidling up to him five minutes early nearly caused Sylvain's already frayed nerves to snap. He scanned her form with an indifferent gaze while he mentally listed all the things about her that were...incorrect.

His heart sank as he made his way into the cockpit with no sign of Felix. His arms were not his own as he strapped in for the countdown. Even though he knew it was bad, dangerous, even, Sylvain held his breath as he collapsed backward into the cruel and waiting arms of the Drift.

Dorothea's mind was at first a blissful blank, just as it had been the first time. Together, they commanded Adder to move her arms to raise their weapons. Sylvain's gaze laser-focused on the chain blade--Felix's weapon, even if he was no longer his co-pilot--and he felt Dorothea trying to pry into his memories.

The showers. Felix's breath on his skin, hot and wet. The way he writhed and moaned atop his lap. The fantasies...

"What the fuck, Dorothea, that's private, " Sylvain hissed. He received only a small, musical chuckle in response.

"Seems like he's taking good care of you, Sylvain."

His mind whited out. Adder's arm dropped to its side with a tremendous crash and he used every bit of his strength to launch himself out of the Drift and back into reality.

"Mia, disengage harness." 

His voice was cold as he stalked out of the cockpit and into a small cloud of thick smoke. Heat poured off the hull where he'd dropped Adder's right arm and he knew he'd probably get reamed to hell and back for it, but he didn't care.

Sylvain wandered numbly toward the side of the jaeger, fingertips caressing the battered hull like an apologetic lover. The way he'd have touched Felix, if he'd let him. Before Sylvain had fucked up, again, and scared him. He wondered dully what Felix was doing now, if he'd come back.

"Mia, I'm so sorry," he whispered. His solitude was interrupted by his co-pilot rushing toward him and grabbing his shoulder; he brushed her off with an annoyed glare but she persisted, clinging. "You're fucking fine 'Thea, now go away," he snapped, looking up to catch a glimpse of Felix sprinting down the stairs to the cockpit level.

The steam was fading here and Felix was nearly able to see through to the entryway where Sylvain stood next to Thea, the woman holding onto one broad shoulder. Something in Felix coiled in anger and revulsion upon the sight, yet his countenance remained his usual pinched neutral as he continued walking. 

“Hey, what happened?” Felix called out, to announce his presence as much as find answers.

Sylvain shrugged her off more insistently this time and took a few small, tentative steps toward his partner. The fear in Felix's eyes had not left his memory--if anything, the image had sprung to the forefront of his mind again as soon as he saw the head of familiar dark hair approaching them.

"I'm okay, Fe. Just a particularly invasive Drift, that's all." 

He shot Dorothea a dirty look over his shoulder and fidgeted, too nervous to approach the other man.

Invasive Drift.

Confusion was clear on Felix’s face with Sylvain’s greeting and his phrasing. He seemed hesitant and what did he mean by in… 

Felix’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Shooting his co-pilot a glare, he closed the gap with no uncertain steps. Once in front of Sylvain, he grabbed his head, staring into his eyes looking to find the panicked gaze he had known him to wear whenever he went back there.

Seeing nothing, he looked around, generally before asking genuinely concerned.

“Are you okay?”

"I...yeah, I'm okay, Fe. For once, it had nothing to do with Miklan."

The return of Felix's gentle touch, slender calloused hands on either side of his face, soothed him. He took a deep breath and wondered what and how much to tell him, how to phrase it. If he outright told him that Dorothea had gotten a glimpse, however murky, of them having sex...Felix would be mortified, ashamed.

"She just got into some other memories, that's all. Stuff that's no one's business except ours. Nosy asshole."

Upon hearing that whatever this was wasn’t about Miklan, Felix’s shoulders visibly  relaxed. He rolled his eyes. Moving to the side, Felix barked at Sylvain’s co-pilot.

“Hey Thea! Stay in your fucking lane. You could’ve endangered both of you and others.”

Dorothea looked at them with wide, apologetic eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Sylvain. I overstepped." 

Thankfully, she was vague and tactful enough not to reveal exactly how--or how badly--she'd done it. Then, to Sylvain's great relief, she was gone.

He looked down at Felix with a tender gaze.

"I'm okay, Fe. I honestly feel worse for Adder. How'd things turn out in medical?" He refused to say Dimitri's name; he was calmer now, but he didn't trust himself yet.

Satisfied both with the apologetic look and her words, Felix returned his attention to Sylvain who was already looking at him. No cruel smile, no dark eyes, just Sylvain. His Sylvain.

“Things are fine. It’s not like it’s going to fall off. You got him good but not that good,” he responded simply, before turning his attention to Adder. As he moved toward the jaeger, he slid his hand down Sylvain’s arm and gave a gentle squeeze. “What happened to her? I’m gone for one goddamn week, and look what happens.”

He was joking. Kind of.

Sylvain followed Felix after he pulled away, eager and longing for more touch. Even though he knew Felix had been referring to their new assignments, it felt like it had been an entire week since before...he pushed the thought away, unwilling to let a scowl mar his features.

He approached the jaeger slowly, respectfully. Only when his palms, now scabbed over, touched her hull did he relax. He pressed his ear gently to the side and closed his eyes to ground himself against the smooth metal as he answered.

"Like I said, she got in my head. It was distracting and annoying, so I looked over to tell her to fuck off and get out of there, to focus. I guess...seeing her in that harness, your harness fucked me up, Fe. I dropped poor Adder's arm and stormed out."

Turning his head to the side, Felix watched the reverent, careful way Sylvain approached Adder, nearly tender in his treatment of the cold steel. Seeing that, his stomach twisted with a deep ache.

The tribunal had posed the question of who should remain as a pilot of Cosmic Adder. Without hesitation, Felix said Sylvain. There was never going to be a question. Felix was best used as a tool, enhancing where he was placed. Sylvain though? He was the lead pilot. He was Adder’s lead. And Adder was clearly his. He didn’t know if it could be called love, but there was a connection between man and machine and Sylvain had that with Adder.

Any reverence disappeared the second his attention switched from machine to her co-pilot. Felix frowned at his words, giving more life to what he had been told. Whatever she was intruding on, it had to be big for Sylvain to get so worked up over it. But if it wasn’t Miklan, what was it? 

Felix breathed a heavy sigh of frustration; he knew about this particular portion.

“It fucks you up, real bad, huh? I know the feeling.” He turned his gaze back to Adder’s damaged side, smiling as he patted the machine. It sounded and looked far worse than it was, but it was clear to see Sylvain was still rattled. He spoke dismissively as he dragged a gentle hand against the familiar crimson. “I’m sure she’ll let you make it up to her, won’t you, Adder?”

Sylvain turned his head to fix Felix with a soft, warm smile. Just being around him was soothing the savage beast that had been so close to the surface ever since they'd successfully Drifted for the first time. It frightened Sylvain, so he did his best not to think about it and focused only on Felix.

"How does it fuck you up, Fe?" he asked, wanting desperately to reach out for him. He wanted to change the focus as quickly as possible, shift the spotlight away from him for once. There was no way he could possibly tell Felix what she'd seen. It was only the tip of the iceberg of what they had, but it was far too much. Even anyone else thinking about Felix, his Felix in that way was too much, and not because of his ego. He felt protective of the other man; Felix had let him in, let him be his first despite Sylvain's own inherent unworthiness. It meant something to Felix, to both of them, and he didn't want any interlopers.

“How does it fuck me up,” he parroted. He shook his head with a rueful grin, “How does it not.”

“Processes, objectives, fundamentals, those are all constants. They stay the same no matter what. But ever since we started piloting together,” he paused, pinning Sylvain with a pointed look, no heat in his words. “… and I one hundred percent blame you for this, but it feels… wrong.

Felix furrowed his brows, willing the appropriate words to manifest. “Like, it’s like looking at something underwater. You see that it’s there, you know something is there, but it’s skewed. You can’t make it out clearly. It’s just enough that you know it’s supposed to be clearer and better when you look at it properly.”

He cussed out in frustration. He was asked a question and talked about watching shit through water. Real pertinent response there, Felix. He took a breath and tried again. “It just does. Obviously you two are nothing alike, so not having a constant grin in my peripheral is… weird.

It was wrong.

This time, Sylvain did reach out and touch Felix lightly on the arm, letting his hand linger there even though he was starting to panic a little at the thought of rejection. But he reminded himself that they were together, an imperfectly perfect matching set, and let the words wash over him and warm his heart.

"I know just what you mean, Fe. It's like...wading through a swamp and not knowing what's going to reach up and grab you from underneath." He also reminded himself to slow down, keep it light.

"Besides," he added with a cheeky grin, "you absolutely wouldn't believe how vacant Dorothea's mind actually is. The utter blankness is actually fucking inspiring on a horrible level. I thought it'd be good, stabilizing because I miss you so badly when I'm in there, but now it's just irritating. Like, damn, Fe, being inside your mind with you...it can't compare to anything else we do. And it throws me off."

When the touch came to his arm, it was welcomed and if he was honest, overdue. Nevertheless, Felix was happy for Sylvain’s closeness.

Returning his answer, Felix understood what he was describing. It hurt to know that he was unable to be that platform for him, to be the one to lift Sylvain back on dry land. But, that was something he would just have to endeavor to do as his partner. It still applied. Maybe even more so now.

As his cheeky grin returned, it seemed a return to form. Felix rolled his eyes fondly while nursing an especially selfish delight at hearing Sylvain describe Dorothea .

“Too much of everything all the time can be dangerous. Maybe tell her to throw up some bumpers, you know. Get a handicap for the Drifting lane.”

Felix shook with silent laughter.

When Sylvain brought it back to him, however, his cheeks bloomed red. Rubbing behind his neck, Felix answered quickly, “It’s the same for me, you know. I’ve already matched my strides to you...” 

The little tugging at his heart in response to Felix's simple statements nearly took Sylvain's breath away and he took first one, then two tentative steps toward Felix with an outstretched hand.

"I bet Dimitri hates that," he laughed, and there was no darkness in it. He slowly raised his hand, as if calming a spooked animal, and gently stroked the side of Felix's face. In that moment, Sylvain thought he could stand there and do this until he died of happiness, and he began to play with Felix's earlobe as he smiled down at him.

Felix turned his head into Sylvain’s gentle, calming touches, reveling in the soft sensations that only Sylvain could bring him.

“So then tell me,” he started. “What had you so bothered? It’s not like you to up and go. On anything, really. But especially Adder.”

Felix stood, leaning into his rough hands with an upturned gaze.

Fuck.

"She saw...us." 

He kept it intentionally vague, deciding it would be best if he didn't add fucking, and me making you scream while you came all over me to the end of that sentence.

Sylvain searched Felix's face for any sign of a reaction, the pass of his thumb over his partner's cheekbone speeding up just a little as a feeling of dread began to fill him.

“Us?”

Felix furrowed his brows in confusion. What did he mean by that? Us what? What about them two was so bad to see that it angered  Sylvain?

Felix’s eyes widened as his shoulders went rigid. 

“Us what, Sylvain?”

"Us. In the shower. Earlier," he choked out, feeling the blood drain from his face. "I pushed her out after a second or two but she still..."

His voice failed him and he reached out to place his other hand on Felix's shoulder, massaging the tense muscle there. 

"It was horrible, Fe," he said quietly. "I felt violated. And not for me--for you. No one is ever supposed to see you like that, to see us like that."

Sylvain’s color might have drained, but Felix’s face found all its lost color. 

Someone else had seen him…whine and plead and come without being touched. To see something so thoroughly rooted in the most intimate trust he had. The thought that someone else seeing him like that was repulsive as was the idea that someone actively looked . A shiver ran down his spine in disgust.

But…there were far worse things, weren’t there?

It wasn’t Miklan, was it? 

It wasn’t Sylvain and Miklan.

He could bear it. Through cheeks flushed in embarrassment, Felix set his jaw, looking up defiantly. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. You can report her for that, you know? Fucking nosy asshole.”

"I know I can, Fe."

Sylvain leaned down and placed three kisses on Felix's face, dusting his left cheekbone. Then, deciding it was uneven, he placed three on the right, too.

He pondered for a moment, unsure what to say next. Felix wasn't one to get angry at him, but they'd just made up and he didn't want to ruin it. Again.

"I feel like she got the picture but Fe...I'm scared. I don't want it to happen again. Do you...d'you think they'd put us back together if I reported her and asked for you?"

The kisses to his cheeks did nothing to sate the anger he felt right now. This actually bothered Sylvain. And that fucking pissed him off.

He gritted his teeth, hating the terse words he knew to be the truth. 

No. They would take further actions or do nothing about it since it’s on record.”

He shook his head as he continued, feeling his pulse begin to rise along with the tempo of his words. “It’s so fucking stupid. You know what? Fuck it. Fuck it! She wants to look, anyone wants to look at you and I? Fucking have at it. I’m not ashamed of you and I or the shit we choose to do. If they want to be gross, fucking do it.”

Sylvain, remarkably, had not looked at anyone nor wanted to be looked at since he and Felix laid claim to each other. The thought of them being watched, being dissected...was somewhat hot (to his baser instincts) but also made him feel ill.

"That's just for me, Fe," he said gently, still trying to soothe his partner. "She looked, I told her not to. I'm not going to let anything like that happen again. I was just...emotional. From, you know."

He couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

Felix looked at him confused…and then it dawned on him. 

“Oh.”

He looked down, unsure of himself. He was shit at any sort of emotional anything and with Sylvain emotionally charged as he was…

“…is that something we should talk about?”

"I don't know. Is it something we should talk about?"

For once, Sylvain was at an utter loss. Jealousy was something he was used to seeing in a lover, sure (no matter how brief the dalliance was). But this? Having to cope with seeing his partner exposed like that? He had no fucking clue what to do.

So he ran comforting fingers and added, "You're my own bleeding heart walking around outside my body, you know."

Felix looked at him concerned. He was his…bleeding heart outside his body? The language alone made Felix feel happiness and unease in equal parts.

“If…that’s the case, I think we need to. I don’t want to be a weakness for you.”

Sylvain sighed and led Felix back to his room silently, trying to think what to say--and how to say it. What touches should go where. How to be a protective shell around Felix from their painful reality.

He sat down heavily on the bed and pulled Felix into his lap, wrapping himself around the smaller man. Then, in a low, hesitant voice, he began to speak.

"The first thing you need to know, Fe, is that I love you. Unconditionally. I would die for you. I would die trying to protect you, which is why I fucked up Adder today. But what Dorothea saw...it was so intimate, Fe, and I can't get that feeling out of my head. Remembering that should have made me happy, but instead I just felt...dirty. Wrong. "

Felix moved with Sylvain in silence as they made their way back to Sylvain’s quarters. Once there, strong hands were on him once again, pulling him close; Felix relaxed into their joined position, waiting for him to speak.

As he spoke, Felix arranged themselves so that Sylvain’s arms were against him and his own arms and hands encircled Sylvain’s pairs. Felix stroked small circles into the backs of his hands and along the soft skin of his inner wrist.

When Sylvain fell silent, Felix asked out to the room he faced. “Why do you think you felt dirty or wrong?”

"Jesus, you sound like my therapist," Sylvain muttered, although there was no ill intention behind his words. Felix's touch was soothing in a way he'd never experienced, and it gave him the courage to answer the question.

"Because of Miklan, obviously," he began with a nervous laugh. "I remember feeling dirty and wrong a lot back then. But mostly, Fe, it was you. Wanting to protect you. I hate to see you vulnerable, and it killed me to see you like that in the showers earlier. I understand why you did." 

Sylvain didn't add because I would never hurt you, not because it was a lie but because he wasn't sure it would bring Felix any consolation. Instead, he murmured into his hair, "You are my most precious one. I cherish you."

The desire to fiercely protect, that was something Felix understood. Even without being lovers, they were partners prior to that. There was something about the Drift that had connected them, both having to pull each other back from the edge of the fucking abyss, they depended on each other to look after their well-being. But this...it seemed like Sylvain was adding more .

He turned in Sylvain's arms, tilting his head so he could see his partner. "Sylvain Jose. I love and appreciate that you want to protect me, I do because I feel the same thing for you. I would do, literally, anything for you. I love you more than I have words to describe. " His gaze was unwavering as he spoke. "But there are going to be times where you can't protect me. And when you can't, you need to trust me that I can deal with it until the next time when you can provide it."

The use of both his first and middle names drew a lopsided smile from Sylvain and he kissed the top of Felix's head again, and again, and again.

"I love you so much, Fe. I didn't...I didn't think I could love anyone until you touched my fucking hand in the cafeteria." He laughed, and this time it was light, almost nostalgic. "There's a reason I dragged you back here, you know. I mean, it was partly because I would have bent you over that fucking table right there, in front of sixty people, but mostly it was...I was trying to connect. With you, and not for the goddamn Drift. Fuck the Drift. But...it brought us together. So...maybe don't fuck the Drift. Not entirely."

The words were difficult for him, but he met Felix's eyes stalwartly.

That fucking smile. Perfectly lopsided, perfectly genuine. Perfectly imperfect, his Sylvain.

He did have to let out an amused bark of laughter. "Right there? Hah...that would've been a hell of a first connection. I'm glad you took me away though to see just what our compatibility was. So, yeah. Maybe only fuck the Drift a little."

Looking off to the side, Felix spoke with a faraway tone, "This might have never happened if all that didn't happen. If I didn't do... whatever it was I did and if you hadn't moved us...who knows?"

"Simple," Sylvain said. "I would've found a way to fuck you anyway, Felix, and you know that I could." 

He winked fondly before continuing. "But... I'm really glad it happened the way it did, Fe. It was...it was incredible. I've never felt like that before in my life, and yet you somehow manage to make me feel new things every single day." 

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Felix leaned up into his body, pushing him a little, denying nothing.

His next words, however, made Felix pause. It wasn't that he didn't believe him, but...he didn't understand. For someone with so much experience and options... "What is it about me then?" Felix furrowed his brows. "I'm glad you think so, believe me, but what is it that I bring that you haven't had?" He looked down at their combined hands, squeezing. "I'm just me."

"That's just it, Fe. I've never had you. With you, everything is a first to me. Fuck what Dimitri said earlier. And I want you to be my last, too."

Sylvain hadn't meant to actually voice the thought, though it had certainly been banging around in the back (and sometimes front) of his mind ever since Felix proposed calling each other husbands. And now, he realized with a jolt, he wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of committing himself to someone, one person until the day he died. In fact, it was beginning to sound like quite an appealing idea. 

Felix’s eyes shot open at his last statement.

“Sylvain,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to his face, turning forward. “Don’t just say shit like that. Please.”

As he scrubbed at his face, Felix tried to waste time to get his senses. Again, he believed and trusted Sylvain, but that anyone could feel so strongly about him…it wasn’t something that Felix was prepared to accept when he said it so bluntly.

"I'm not just saying it, Fe." Sylvain's tone was not desperate this time; he knew Felix felt exactly the same way about him. "I mean it. If...if you want that, too."

Jesus, it was all so fast. And yet, it felt right. After an eternity of wrongness, Sylvain was ready to feel right.

“I…” Felix’s throat clenched.

One and only. For all his life, all almost thirty years of it, Felix had never put much stock into relationships or even attraction, much less ever considering finding someone to spend his life with. And yet suddenly, he now found himself in a very intense and very fast, torrid affair. The man might as well have been his first at everything because nothing else he had ever experienced compared to it. Sylvain’s everything was unlike anything he knew or expected. Least of all, expecting being in fucking love with the man.

His defiant gaze was completely undercut by the ferocious red of his cheeks that bled to his ears.

“I told you. I’m not asking you.”

"Oh, so you're telling me? I suppose I have no choice in the matter, then," Sylvain sassed lightly. Then his expression went serious as he stared at Felix with wide eyes. He had no fucking idea when this had happened, when their feelings had become so intense. But Sylvain had a feeling it had begun long, long before the mess hall.

Felix huffed, matching his playful expression. “I’m not telling you to do anything. You’re a big boy.”

Since Felix wasn’t going to ask the question, the burden fell to Sylvain. A foolish, anxious grin flickered across his face for a second before returning to its former warmth and sincerity.

"Marry me. I mean it, Fe."

Felix turned to Sylvain and held his gaze as it morphed into something…else. His mouth fell into a small o.

He believed Sylvain.

And as he had been, Felix was a man compelled.

“Okay,” he breathed.

Sylvain had half-expected Felix to call him an idiot or berate him for joking; what he got instead was a look of wonder from big, glowing amber eyes. A soft pink mouth formed in a perfect o as he gaped up at Sylvain.

His Felix.

Sylvain didn't trust himself not to stumble over his words, so he gathered Felix up in a fierce embrace, swinging his partner's legs over his arm. He kissed him again and again, smiling against Felix's lips with each one.

Oh what the fuck was this?

They were fucking crazy. Ridiculous. Insane.

He let himself be gathered and spun around, greedily accepting and returning his smiling kisses. 

“We’re crazy. This is crazy.”

It was crazy and Felix was happy. For the first time in years, unabashedly, honestly happy.

"Absolutely crazy," Sylvain agreed happily. Then, after a pause: "I, uh, have no idea what happens next. Do you? I've never even thought about doing this before."

It was a vulnerable admission for Sylvain, a recognition that this was another first for him; most of all, it was a silent plea for understanding, an unspoken Please be gentle, I'm not very good at this yet.

A bark of a laugh that was as much relief as it was mirth rang out. “Hell no, I don’t.” Nosing at Sylvain, he continued on the high of the giddiness he felt. “You and me, we’re going in blind. I don’t even have rings or whatever.”

"Neither do I!" Sylvain cackled, giddy and feeling almost lightheaded from the sudden rush of emotions. They didn't need any goddamn rings. They didn't even need a piece of paper. They'd spoken it into existence, and that was enough.

"Thank you, Fe," he whispered softly.

“Why are you thanking me? I didn’t ask.”

"I'm thanking you," he answered as he took Felix's hand with a delicate touch, "because you've seen the worst parts of me and still said yes. That's all."

Felix shook his head. "Well, it's you. My Sylvain. You are all of that. The good and bad." He brought his hand up to lightly pinch Sylvain's cheek, then groaned softly and looked away. "I don't need thanks for loving you, you know? It's easy to love you. So, now you know and can stop making say shit like that."

Sylvain couldn't help the stupidly large grin that spread across his face as he scooped up and carried Felix down the hall. He had no idea where the fuck they were going; his brain was too preoccupied with keeping him from shouting about how he was going to officially be Sylvain Fraldarius to focus on navigating with any sort of purpose.

They ended up back in the jaeger bay, Sylvain traveling there through muscle memory like birds migrating south. When they arrived to the familiar, comforting sound of clanking metal and hissing pneumatics, he finally placed his partner--fiancé?--down and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, beaming.


Chapter 16: Meating of the Minds

Summary:

They were talking about him in front of him. This was too fucking weird. Felix interjected, sharp eyes flitting between the two.

“Listen. You don’t have to be best fucking friends. At minimum, for all of our sakes and my goddamn sanity, I can’t have my co-pilot and fiancé at issue. So let this be the end of it and that’s it. Okay? Okay. ”

It hadn’t yet occurred to him what he announced.

Chapter Text

Felix stood in the visitor entrance to the medical bay, tapping his foot. There wasn't an exact, designated time for his official co-pilot’s release from medical, but he was naturally impatient; anything else would just be out of character. It wasn’t a great conversation, but Sylvain had acquiesced that he had points of being there when Dimitri left medical as well as how imperative it was to be able to work together.

When the man walked out of the entryway, even with the gauze bandages that covered his nose, his eyes lit up as he went to Felix. 

“Fe! You’re here!”

Felix nodded, unimpressed. 

“And you still have a nose. Small miracles. Come.”

Dimitri walked silently at his side, stealing glances at him. Finally, Felix pointedly answered the unspoken question.

“We are not good, Dima. And if we have to be co-pilots, good we will be. But before that, you need to make shit right with Sylvain. And that’s what you’re going to start to do right now.”

Leaving no room for questions, Felix pressed into the mess hall, directing his attention to the far end where his fiancé sat. 

“Get food and join.”

Separating from Dimitri, Felix walked to Sylvain. Before sitting, he carded his fingers through his hair, tilting him back to give a bold, open kiss in an unspoken question: Are you okay to do this?

Sylvain slung an arm around his fiancé and cuddled him close to his side, secretly delighted by how Felix's head was just the perfect height to rest on his shoulder. He returned the kiss and spent a moment staring adoringly at him before giving him an equally audacious one in return, flicking the tip of his tongue over the inside of Felix's lip before pulling away.

He saw Dimitri returning with his tray and nibbled at his half-eaten apple instead of doing what he really wanted, which was to shamelessly make out with Felix here until someone kicked them out. No need to rub it in the other man's face.

Felix pulled back from the kiss Sylvain planted on him, breathless. It didn’t make sense how the man could still make him grow weak, but here they were, and there Felix was all the same: weak-kneed and thankful for the sturdy bench.

Dimitri arrived across from the two, standing awkwardly holding his meal tray. Felix regarded him evenly and when he didn’t move, added, “Sit, Dima.” 

For as little experience as Felix had, he had experience with Dimitri and how to handle him. The man had a preternatural affinity for orders and when spoken by Felix, there was no question of it. It was this knowledge that Felix flexed to see if it still was true all these years later and so far, it seemed so.

“Oh my god, eat," he huffed when Dimitri sat silently, looking down at his food. “It’s all going to congeal if you don’t. We’ll get to what needs to be done after.” 

Sylvain eyed Dimitri and his tray. The guy looked sheepish, miserable, awkward. All of these were things that Sylvain tried to avoid being because he found them distasteful and they made him hate himself even more.

"Aw, come on, Fe," he said, voice light. "I watch you gobble this shit down every day. Can you blame him for not wanting to eat it?"

He reached down and laced his fingers with Felix's, using the table for cover. Then he leaned in and added in a low voice, "Dimitri, I'm sorry."

Felix rolled his eyes, looking elsewhere as he surreptitiously threaded his fingers with Sylvain's own. If Sylvain knew the lack of a palate Dimitri had, he would've known he didn't hesitate because of the quality ...or lack thereof.

And, Dimitri did what Dimitri did, broken nose and all. The large man shoveled food in an aggressively efficient manner, somehow managing to take breaks to dab at his lips.

When Sylvain spoke, Dimitri's clear blue eye met his contrite gaze.

 “...Yes. I apologize for what occurred.”

The vagueness of the exchange did nothing to put Felix at ease. There was a hope this would be more constructive, but he'd let the two men go and see if they couldn't figure it out before adding his piece. At least this was a start, and he was grateful it had been initiated by Sylvain.

The apology, stilted and strange though it was, made Sylvain feel relieved and terrible all at once. He'd shown off something dark that day, and it scared him. And Felix had been there to witness it in real-time, which meant it could never happen again.

"Hey, I'm sorry, too," Sylvain replied, extending an olive branch. "We both...said and did some really fucked up things." He took a bite of his own food, winced delicately, and added, "Your nose looks like it healed really well. Sorry about that one, too." 

Even if he was secretly proud of that particular punch.

Felix watched closely as Sylvain dealt with the odd conversation and Dimitri himself.

There was a larger part than he expected of Felix that didn’t want Sylvain to apologize for the punch itself. That hadn’t been the issue. But then…was there truly any apologizing for the sneer or the sadistic smile he wore while strangling him? No…those were ancillary, only things seen by Felix. 

His palms felt sweaty. His hand loosened its grip with Sylvain. Felix’s brows furrowed as he batted his water bottle mindlessly.

But, in any case, if this was what it took to bury the hatchet and create some sort of a tenable existence between the three, so be it. They could be big men and apologize about hitting each other.

Dimitri’s eye moved to Felix and then back before answering. 

“It was a good punch. They said I was lucky with the damage and it should be reset with little deviation. That being said, I don’t want to test it again.”

Felix was getting anxious, and it was making Sylvain anxious. He said nothing, but it was obvious from the way he let go of Sylvain's hand just a little, the way he was fidgeting now.

Felix never fidgeted.

Sylvain laughed and looked at Dimitri with something almost approaching fondness.

"Hey, thanks. Some of my finest work, and you were a worthy recipient," he joked. "But seriously, man. I'm sorry for everything. I kinda...went dark there for a minute. Really dark. And I don't want to test it again, either."

He looked over at Felix with concerned eyes and a furrowed brow, wondering if he'd misspoken.

This was awkward as fuck.

And now, he felt both pairs of eyes on him, well, three eyes. Good, great.

Felix slipped his hand from Sylvain’s so he could stab at his food, stuffing the salted mystery meat in his mouth. Normal people ate like this, right?

The gaze from across the table must’ve discerned whatever Felix was conveying as Dimitri spoke once again. 

“We all have our moments. I have nothing against what happened and will not look to recreate that with you. You have my word. Things are more complicated when feelings are involved.” 

His gaze fell for a moment and rose to Felix, whose head was still down as he continued to stab away at his food.

Sylvain's concern only deepened. Okay, so Felix was acting beyond weird now. He wasn't even eating properly--he was holding his fork like a goddamn dagger and stabbing into the sorry excuse for meat. He almost felt bad for the food. Almost.

Dimitri's words were not a surprise. He was goading Sylvain, but he wasn't going to take the bait. Not now. Not when he had a fiancé, who was presently very uncomfortable. He needed to fix that.

"No, I totally understand, Dimitri. That's why I reacted the way I did. I mean, I really don't give a shit what people say about me. I just won't stand by and let anyone talk shit about Felix, even if it's by extension." 

He set his lips in a firm line and waited for the other man’s response.

Felix looked at Sylvain who was staring, dead set ahead. Had anyone ever… defended him? The opinions of others regarding him was none of his business, and he kept it that way. People could think whatever they wanted and Felix paid them no mind. But that clearly wasn’t the case with Sylvain. Among his turbulent feelings, something fierce and indelible bloomed and beat within him for his partner.

At his stern look and tone, Dimitri actually had the sense to not meet him at the same level. Instead, he shook his head slowly.

“That was a mistake. I never want to disparage Felix.”

They were talking about him in front of him. This was too fucking weird. Felix interjected, sharp eyes flitting between the two.  

“Listen. You don’t have to be best fucking friends. At minimum, for all of our sakes and my goddamn sanity, I can’t have my co-pilot and fiancé at issue. So let this be the end of it and that’s it. Okay? Okay. 

It hadn’t yet occurred to him what he announced.

Sylvain's eyes went impossibly, comically wide as he snapped his head to look at Felix. He felt a rush of emotions--pride, joy, love --and had no idea what to do with them.

So he conceded his staring match with Dimitri in favor of turning to embrace Felix and kissing him soundly on the mouth. Sitting there with their foreheads pressed together, sharing breath, it was like they were somewhere else. Somewhere more private than the crowded, noisy mess hall. Somewhere more intimate...somewhere like the Drift.

"I love you so much," he murmured, only sparing the briefest of glances to gauge Dimitri's reaction before turning back to his now-official fiancé.

Meanwhile, Dimitri’s lone eye went wide with bewilderment at Felix’s words.

Felix began to ask just what his problem was when Sylvain pulled him into a crushing, all-encompassing hug, only releasing him to kiss him hard. Coupled with Dimitri’s look, it was this combination of actions that made Felix realize what he had said to cause both reactions.

“What?” he offered defensively.

Red. Forehead to forehead, Felix turned absolutely red. He pushed forward, nudging Sylvain firmly.

"Well. It’s true, isn’t it?”

In this moment, in every moment like this, it was only ever just Sylvain and Felix. No one else.

Sylvain laughed and tangled his fingers in Felix's hair, unmindful and uncaring that he was fucking the ponytail up. Nothing except Felix, except them mattered now.

"I guess it is," he said with a soft smile meant only for Felix. "But you're so cute, you know? Just blurting it out like that."

He capped off the light teasing with a series of small, light kisses, unwilling to be the first to pull back.

Dimitri’s fork scraping across the metallic tray brought Felix out of the trance Sylvain had over him. Felix had at least the insight to acknowledge that it was inappropriate to continue in the presence of one other person…especially under these circumstances.

Righting himself, Felix faced forward to see Dimitri’s tray cleared, clean from all food that had just covered it. He huffed. The man always had an impressive appetite and it was a wonder to see that hadn’t changed.

“Damn, Dima.”

Dimitri chuckled as he neatly folded his napkin. 

“What can I say? I was hungry.” He stood slowly from the table, gathering his items before addressing Felix and Sylvain. “Thank you for the invitation and talk. I think it was helpful.”

Sylvain cleared his throat and straightened his clothing and hair, trying to resume some semblance of propriety. He looked at Dimitri's empty tray with an amused glance and fixed the man with a small smile.

"Damn, I could really take lessons from you on how to choke this stuff down. I'm withering away here!" 

But the atmosphere felt weird, tense. He looked to Felix helplessly for a moment, looking for his cue, then nodded politely to Dimitri.

"Thanks for joining us. I think it really cleared some things up."

Dimitri’s gaze scanned between the two. “This was enjoyable and enlightening, perhaps I can join again. Sylvain.” He gave a curt nod before looking past him to Felix, gaze softening in what Felix took as familiarity. “I’ll see you soon.”

Sylvain exhaled hard and slumped across the table, stretching long arms to grip the edge on the opposite side. It could've gone better, but it certainly could have gone worse. He'd seen the dark look of surprise flash across Dimitri's face at Felix's accidental announcement, but there had been no bullshit. He hoped there wouldn't be any later, either.

He turned his head to look at Felix over his shoulder and grinned, not moving from his splayed-out position. He was fucking spent.

"So, Fe, how do you think that went?"

Felix watched with mild interest as Sylvain stretched himself out, across the table. With a dismissive shrug, he turned to his food. 

“You didn’t punch him again. I’d say it’s an improvement.”

He didn’t hide the smirk that curled at his lips before beginning to eat in earnest.

With a roll of his eyes and a fond sigh, Sylvain straightened up and forced down the last of his own food. The one way in which he wished he could be like Dimitri, Sylvain mused, was the man's ability to stomach literally anything. He could probably even subsist off of toxic waste, if he had to.

"Yeah, that's fair. I gotta keep my punchin' arm sharp for Adder, though. I treated a lady horribly, so I need to make sure it doesn't happen again."

He leaned back and traced his fingertips lightly along Felix's upper back and the nape of his neck as he thought about different ways to keep his nosy-ass co-pilot out of his head.

Chapter 17: Styrax and Rocoto

Summary:

ALERT: MULTIPLE CATEGORY 4 KAIJU DETECTED IN PROXIMITY. ALL PROPERLY CREDENTIALED PILOTS ARE TO REPORT TO THE JAEGER BAY IMMEDIATELY.

Chapter Text

ALERT: MULTIPLE CATEGORY 4 KAIJU DETECTED IN PROXIMITY. ALL PROPERLY CREDENTIALED PILOTS ARE TO REPORT TO THE JAEGER BAY IMMEDIATELY.

Sylvain woke with a start to the all-too-familiar sound of klaxons blaring. He and Felix had spent a rare night apart, and his bed felt so cold and empty that he was, in fact, eager to get out of it. After dressing quickly, he practically threw himself against Felix's door, knocking and yelling frantically. 

"Fe! Fe! Wake up! We gotta go!"

Cadets began swarming through the hallway, packed shoulder-to-shoulder. No matter how hard he tried, Sylvain was unable to fight against the relentless tide of panicked bodies, the wall of pure adrenaline, and he was swept off with the others to the jaeger bay. There was no time to pause or look around or wait for his fiancé. Sylvain was practically shoved into Cosmic Adder by an impatient Dorothea, who seemed more put-out that she'd been disturbed from her slumber than anxious about multiple Category 4's coming their way.

They looked at each other for a moment, brown meeting green in silent understanding: Stay the fuck out of my head and I won't let you die.  

Sylvain closed his eyes and relaxed into the countdown. 

*

Felix shot up from a deep sleep at the human-sized bang to his door and the sound of claxons blaring. He jumped out of bed, stumbling over himself as he tore from his room with a passing bang on Sylvain’s door. There was little doubt in his mind that Sylvain had gone ahead--they had found out early on that Felix was the heavier sleeper. Not wasting even a second lingering, Felix joined the mass of personnel filing through to battle positions.

At the portal to the jaeger hanger, heads above the tide, Felix spied Dimitri looking out over the crowd. Felix shouted as he approached to draw Dimitri's attention and they grabbed at each other, only to pull away abruptly to run toward Grim Reaver.

Once in his control room, Felix shouted, “Dame! Harnesses!” Apparently knowing this wasn’t a drill, Grim Reaver’s patented AI complied without any of her binary sass. Dimitri and Felix went to their assigned stations, locking in place for deployment. Dimitri glanced over at him and gave a thumbs up before tilting his head back.

Felix breathed in. He thought of Sylvain’s scent as he buried his nose in his hair.

Held it. He thought of Sylvain’s backbreaking hugs.

Breathed out. He thought of the first gasp of air after Sylvain made him see stars.

Felix closed his eyes as Grim Reaver activated.

*

The Drift. Lovely, dark, and deep.

Dorothea's mind was back to its usual blissful blankness, placid like a lake instead of the roiling waters that threatened to overtake Sylvain and drag him down, down, down without Felix there to save him. She smiled radiantly from his left--comforting for once instead of sultry, and Sylvain relaxed in his harness.

They moved perfectly in sync, Mia chirping updates at them periodically. 

"Cat 4, 'Thea," Sylvain said, using the nickname because it was shorter. "Up ahead, at your two." He jerked his head up and to the right, just in case she missed it.

Styrax, Mia droned. Category Four Kaiju.

He extended his right arm and closed his eyes, thinking of the fierce determination on Felix's face, the surge of victory, the flash of surprised lust that had accompanied the slow drag of Sylvain's fingertip across his helmet.

Across the cockpit, Dorothea said something singsong that Sylvain couldn't quite make out as she raised her own weapon. With a flourish of her wrist, she deployed Adder's chain blade. While her movements were not as brutally precise as Felix's, there was a fluid grace to how she piloted and Sylvain was, frankly, shocked to discover what the old Mark-2 was capable of.

Even as the gigantic beast loomed on the horizon, Sylvain found himself scanning frantically for any sign of Grim Reaver. 

*

Ever since their drill, working in tandem and Drifting with Dimitri was easy. It was different than the natural rhythm he had with Sylvain and Adder, but there was something to be said for the ease in which he fell into the familiarity that was built over years.

Judy D. chimed in, filling the blank of whom they were approaching. 

Rocoto: Category Four Kaiju.

A gruff voice followed her robotic tone.

"Fe. You see it?"

Felix’s eyes were scanning the horizon and the sonar looking for kaiju and Adder. He called out, “At your seven. On you, Dima.”

Felix looked once more for any sight of Adder and his Sylvain. “Engaging link blade.”

There. Over to the right, almost in his blind spot, he spied a flash of frigid blue and relaxed. He couldn't see into the cockpit, of course, but the mere sight of Reaver brought a stab of hope with it.

*

Sylvain, Dorothea called through the Drift. She chastised him gently for the spike in emotion and he gave her a goofy, sheepish grin.

If they'd thought Gallos was a Big Motherfucker, they were sorely mistaken. Styrax was three times the height of their jaeger and made of sharp white crystals that gleamed in the ferocious afternoon sun.

Dorothea hit first, slicing off a generous chunk from the kaiju. The familiar stinking black blood poured forth from the wound as Sylvain shot flames at its neck, being careful not to cauterize the massive gash Dorothea had just opened on its chest.

They both mentally cheered and Sylvain brightened, gritting his teeth in a savage grin as he prepared for another attack. 

A rabid, rugged voice came over the receiver.

"Activate photon lance."

Felix looked eagerly at the not oft seen weapon. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t of interest as there were few pilots who could even wield the device; let it never be said that Dimitri wasn’t an accomplished pilot. His body, his build, his strength were all built for the purpose of overwhelming destructive force. The gleam of his serrated blade looked dull in comparison to the iridescent glow of the deadly lance.

Yet the impressive weapon didn’t distract from Judith’s green glow that flooded the cockpit when she picked up Adder’s signal. Felix’s heart raced even faster. Which was likely just in time as their own target reared its ugly…heads.

An entirely-too-long kaiju slithered towards them, bulbous, angry red and black heads snapping at anything its path, zeroing in on their position.

As he hefted his arm skywards, Dimitri growled out, "Maneuver Delta!"

Already connected, Felix was in position when he snarled back, “Affirmative!”

A single pulse of light emanated from the lance. When the light drew the attentions of the heads, Felix unleashed the chain break of his blade, digging into Rocoto’s hide, hooking it down and away. As soon as the blade was looped, Dimitri released the lance, catching it in place with a turned hand. With an animalistic roar and beyond deadly force, he brought the weapon down, skewering both heads in a single plunge.

Felix let out a loud explicative, marveling at their clean kill as they turned towards the other pings on the radar.

Sylvain heard the death rattle--or roar, more accurately--just as the kaiju fell and sent shock waves through the cockpit. His smile grew even wider and the tiniest bit less dark as he realized that Dimitri and Felix had killed their kaiju already. It made him feel a little bitter...so he cheered Dorothea on as they attacked in tandem: Dorothea's blade whipping through the air and slicing the kaiju nearly in half from the base of its ugly neck to its crystalline waist. 

For his part, Sylvain twitched his fingers to emit a burst of flame...that hit Styrax more or less in the ass. Or at least, where its ass would be. Even though he knew it could fuck up the Drift, he howled with laughter and was surprised that his co-pilot, too, was laughing freely. Somehow, that managed to balance them enough for Sylvain to remember something he'd said to Felix after their first successful Drift: Let's do a fist bump.

"Mia, we're doin' a fist bump," he said, pivoting Adder's right leg to turn toward Reaver. He extended the mech's arm with ease and waited, getting his first full-on glimpse of the other jaeger.

Grim Reaver was within driving distance of Adder as they saw Sylvain’s telltale flame burst into the sky. Felix’s eyes lit up and he and Dimitri closed the gap.

With both jaegers advancing on the other, they had visual confirmation of the mech within seconds. Dimitri was the first to comment upon their approach.

"Are they stuck? Did their right hemisphere sustain an injury?"

Without hesitation, Felix twisted Grim Reaver sharply to get a visual on his right.

Relief didn’t begin to express how he felt in the moment to see Adder in all her glory…with her right arm out…clenched? Felix’s mind ran through multiple scenarios that could have attributed to such positioning, finding none that adequately answered, except…

"Oh my fucking god.

Felix let out a bark of laughter, “Sheathe, Jude. Dima, go with me.” Blade retracted for the moment, Felix flexed his fingers, willing the jaeger’s to unfurl and fold back in. With a measured movement, Felix brought Reaver’s fist to meet Adder’s extended fist. With a deafening clang, Felix touched knuckles, pulling back with an extended hand, blowing up their goddamn fist bump. Even Dimitri chuckled, shaking his head at the triumphant smile his co-pilot wore.

Felix couldn’t see into Adder, but somewhere deep within his mind’s eye, within his heart, he felt Sylvain.

Sylvain threw his head back in laughter when he saw Grim Reaver's left fist slowly start to rise--Felix had remembered! And he even blew it up! His eyes prickled with happy tears and he blinked hard once, twice to clear them.

Dorothea was in his head again, digging through his memories like she was rummaging through a messy purse, but Sylvain was riding too high on adrenaline to even notice. All he could focus on was Felix, his Felix, picturing him in the cockpit with a tiny relieved smile on his flushed face.

And in that moment, he also felt a wave of affection and gratitude for Dimitri overtake him. He'd kept Felix safe. He'd kept his promise. And most importantly, he'd decided not to use that terrifying lance to fuck Adder up.

He raised Adder's arm again in a little wave, then started back toward the hangar.

Chapter 18: Chef's Kiss

Summary:

"Fe..." he began softly. Then, a little darker, leaning close: "What do you think you're doing?"

Felix grabbed at Sylvain’s other hip and closed the scant space between them. He held his gaze as he released Sylvain's finger with a wet pop. 

"Nothing yet."

Chapter Text

In the time it took to travel back to base, Felix and Dimitri had properly and thoroughly dissected their combat, reliving their perfectly laid plan and reveling in the other’s precision and strength.

Carried by the high both of them were experiencing, Dimitri reminisced fondly on days past. The familiarity they had prior to the academy served as their baseline and Felix decided that if they were to be co-pilots, it would help to strengthen the neuro bond.

By the time they made it back to the hanger, Felix was firing on all cylinders. Ecstatic at their own success and incredibly proud of Sylvain’s work, Felix wanted to use the boost for all it was worth.

After disengaging from their harnesses, Dimitri embraced Felix in a motion that he returned, spurred on by their success and the nostalgia he felt. After a spell, he pulled away from Dimitri and the crowds of people filing to the main floor to celebrate their victory. Felix waved Dimitri on ahead as he hurried to Adder’s station. 

Dimitri and Sylvain exited their respective cockpits at roughly the same time, though Sylvain couldn't resist jumping the last few stairs to beat him to the bottom, just to be petty. But he ran over to Grim Reaver all the same and embraced the man in an unexpected hug. He'd just meant to clap the poor bastard on the shoulder, not climb all over him, but euphoria took the driver's seat for just a second.

After he straightened up and cleared his throat, he said, "Fe's okay, then? You brought him back to me, kept him safe?" Then, realizing he was probably forgetting something and added, "You guys were incredible, by the way. That lance, man...scary. But, uh, thank you, Dima. Thank you for taking care of Fe for me."

It was the first time he'd uttered the pet name without even a touch of scorn; Felix would be proud, he thought to himself as he looked around for his partner. Dorothea bounced over, ecstatic, and attempted a hug; when he extended his hand for an inattentive fist bump, he didn't even notice the look of disappointment that crossed her face. 

Dimitri stumbled off balance at the pilot’s unexpected moves, but righted both himself and Sylvain soon thereafter. Sylvain spoke a mile a minute and Dimitri only responded when nothing further was forthcoming. He spoke with a mild tone.

"Only scary if in the wrong hands."

Yet, to answer Sylvain’s questions and concerns, he shook his head, as Dimitri answered solemnly.

"You need not worry. I have always and will always protect my partner."

When Felix saw Dorothea emerge, he waited in anticipation to see the tall figure behind her…that didn’t seem forthcoming?

Confused, Felix asked the approaching pilot, “Hey, good work out there. Is Sylvain still connected?” 

Dorothea looked at Felix with an unreadable glance then fixed him with a brilliant smile, all plush pink lips and pearly whites. 

"Felix!" she purred, stepping toward him to take his arm. "You were both just marvelous! And the fist bump at the end?" She made a little chef's kiss motion and winked at him.

"Your man," she continued, "is over there talking to your co-pilot, if you want to go get him. Or...you could stay here with me and we could chat a while about what that battle was like. Exhilarating!"

Felix didn’t want to stay and chat. Felix wanted to see his Sylvain. But…if he was there for the purpose of speaking to Dimitri, well, he wasn’t going to get in the way of that. Felix truly did want harmony between them all. Which, he had to admit, would include Dorothea.

Face turned towards their joined arms, he let the stance remain. “I wouldn’t be mad at that. Your sword work is very impressive. Was that always your weapon of choice?”

Dorothea gave a coquettish giggle at the compliment and fluttered her lashes.

"Oh, thank you, Felix! And I've always had a particularly  strong affinity for sword work. Yours was beautiful by the way. So powerful."   She emphasized the last word by stroking her fingertips across his forearm. Remaining close and teasing the fine hairs at his wrist, she dropped her voice conspiratorially.

"You must be relieved to have Sylvain back in one piece. I know how close you two are."

Her silken, melodic tone truly sounded like music to his ears. Her compliments and small touch made his cheeks flare. Though momentarily stalled, Felix was able to recognize her next statement for what it was; his face dropped, and he furrowed his brows.

The mistrust and defensiveness in his voice sounded when he replied, “We are. I heard how nosy you are.”

"Well, I can't say it's one of my more attractive traits," she said, posing a little with a hand on her hip and her chest out. "But everyone has things they could work on, don't you think?"

Felix rolled his eyes as she pressed out her self-described assets. “Yeah, yeah. No one’s perfect.”

A cheerful laugh; a sunny smile. Her hand crept up to massage the tense muscle between Felix's shoulder and neck.

"Anyway, I imagine you two are excited for the wedding. Am I invited?"

The delicate hand he felt crawl up his back sent a shiver down his spine. Her touch was far too gentle, too foreign. Uncomfortable, he unhooked their arms sliding away, running his hands over where Dorothea had touched him.

“We haven’t planned anything like that... When did he tell you?” 

"Mm, I heard you two were engaged and took a lucky guess," she said, lying through her teeth. "Felix, you must let me help you pick out your clothes! It's not every day that I get the opportunity to dress such an attractive man."

She took a step back before adding, "Anyway, no matter what you wear, I know that you two make a very attractive couple." And then she winked. 

Felix’s hair stood on the back of his neck. Her salacious tone and her equally deliberate wink left Felix feeling naked.

Attractive? Sylvain had that covered for the both of them.

He stuttered out, “…clothes? Uh, I’ll think about it. But I have to go find my Sylvain. Sylvain, ” he corrected. 

Dorothea benignly watched him go, eyeing his retreating back. She'd at least planted the seed.

*

When Sylvain saw Felix approaching, he broke off mid-sentence from his conversation with Dimitri to run to him. Like before, he gathered Felix in his arms and lifted him before he could protest, planting little kisses in their secret language all over his face.

"Fe! God damn, you guys were incredible! And thanks for remembering the fist bump."

Felix was never happier to be out of someone’s presence than he was in that moment. Nearly forgetting the weird previous interaction, he abandoned all negativity and ran forward, meeting Sylvain’s waiting arms and leaning into all the small kisses as he was hoisted into the air.

“Reaver was great, right? You guys and Adder, it was fucking amazing, Sylvain!”

He was officially gushing.

He fucking loved this man.

Back on the ground, Felix extended his fist with flushed cheeks and a smile only for Sylvain.

Sylvain gave him an ear-to-ear grin and returned the bump, blowing it up. For a moment, he marveled at the miniscule interaction; a month or two ago, he never would have imagined that his grumpy co-pilot would be acting like this.

"So," he began easily, "what were you and Dorothea chatting about over there? It's really cool that you're getting to know each other. She helped be our wingman for that fist bump at the end too, you know? Anyway, Dimitri and I were just going over the battle, figuring out our weak spots and what each of us could've done better. Guess he's not so bad, after all."

Even though they'd only been apart for an hour or two, Sylvain felt like he had an endless torrent of thoughts to share with Felix.

The fist bump was so dumb, but damn if he didn’t like it. He listened to Sylvain recount his and Dimitri’s debriefing-they really sounded like proper crewmates. The thought made Felix swell with pride. “No, Dima isn’t so bad,” he agreed.

Answering Sylvain’s question next, Felix reached out, touching Sylvain’s right arm.

“We just talked for a second. Dorothea’s sword work was top notch. And then she said she would help with clothes for the wedding and I guess I never thought of that? But it was nice of her to offer. She said we were a very attractive couple.” He looked up at Sylvain and added, “I didn’t know you told anyone?”

"That's the thing, Fe. I didn't." Sylvain's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked down at Felix. "I mean, I guess it's possible that I got, you know, emotional at the end and referred to you in my head as my fiancé or something? I don't remember saying anything, Fe. But she's not wrong!"

He gave his partner an affectionate peck on the lips before pulling back to study him. Sylvain suddenly felt uneasy.

"Hey, Fe, you okay?"

Felix pursed his lips even after Sylvain had kissed him. Huh. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed…off. Though, maybe that was just him being paranoid. Ever since coming together with Sylvain and their thing, he had rarely felt any other emotions. So maybe he was just being too sensitive. That could be it.

To Sylvain’s question, he answered, “Yeah, I think I’m still riled up from the mission.”

"You sure?"

Sylvain's concern deepened. Whenever Felix said he was fine, it meant that he most definitely was not fine. He carded comforting fingers through the other man's hair and looked down at him pleadingly.

"Fe. If she said something fucked-up, did something to upset you, you can tell me. She's managed to do the whole straighten-up-and-fly-right thing since I snapped at her, so maybe I could talk to her again..." 

Felix looked up at Sylvain's concerned face and took a moment to reflect on the interaction.

“I don’t know, it was weird. She’s a lot more touchy-feely than I’m used to. And she seems really… she looked at us a lot. So that was weird.”

He shook his head as he continued. “She didn’t say anything fucked up. She’s just weird to be around I guess. I’m just not used to her. But...you seem to be getting along well.”

"She's...actually super weird, now that I think about it. I mean, her head's still a total blank space. Tabula rasa, even. It makes her good at pulling me back when I need it. I got so excited to see you guys that I almost threw us off balance," he chuckled. "But yeah, she's nosy and she flirts too much. I'd definitely pick someone else for a co-pilot, but here we are."

Something still wasn't right. Sylvain cupped Felix's chin in his hand, stroking his cheek gently.

"Fe, you told me what she said but not how you're feeling about it. Talk to me. Please."

Such a blank space…how could anyone be like that? It wasn’t like she wasn’t intelligent. They had seen her proficiency scores… Could the woman really just be so in control? Felix was envious of that was the case… not that he wasn’t already.

The way that Sylvain spoke, the way that he looked with utter care in his eyes made Felix’s gut twist.

“I don’t know, Sylvain. It was just weird because I was looking for you. I wanted to see you and celebrate with you. And how good we did.” He took the hand at his cheek and kissed it. "You were so good out there.”

"Well, she's gone now, thank Christ," Sylvain said with a relieved laugh. Felix wasn't quite normal, but at least he was acting normal, and that was something. And maybe he was making a big deal of of Felix's interaction with Dorothea, just being overprotective because she liked being a nosy bitch and, okay, yeah, she'd seen them fuck once and that was kinda weird, but...

He interrupted his brain's ramblings by sweeping his thumb over Felix's lower lip, a fondly intimate gesture he didn't even know he was capable of. "I really love you, Fe."

She was gone…yeah.

Felix’s thoughts and worries were interrupted by the calloused thumb that swept over his lip. Instantly, his vision went from the freckled hand, wrist, up to Sylvain’s face; a terrible fondness that made Felix weak. More a reaction than a cognizant choice, he breathed, “I love you back.”

Eyes never leaving Sylvain’s, Felix’s lips and tongue wrapped around his thumb.

While Felix's breathless words made Sylvain's knees weak, the warm, wet suction at the tip of his thumb nearly made him collapse. He drew closer and wrapped an arm around his partner to brace himself, leaning a hip heavily into Felix.

"Fe..." he began softly. Then, a little darker, leaning close: "What do you think you're doing?"

Sylvain was an enigma. At one moment, flashing eyes and a saccharine voice filled him with utter and absolute terror, pinning him in fear. Yet in another, this moment. How he could use that tone and how those dark eyes bore into his own all somehow brought out a carnal desire in Felix. Such duality…Felix didn’t know whether it was a failure on the part of his perception, but the two seemed to coexist perfectly within the man. And it only compelled him further.

Felix grabbed at Sylvain’s other hip and closed the scant space between them. He held his gaze as he released Sylvain's finger with a wet pop

"Nothing yet."

Another unexpected turn: Felix was being playful again, which Sylvain took as a very good sign. He shivered lightly in his partner's grip and pushed him up against the nearby wall, one hand resting next to Felix's head, the other still on his lips.

"Hmm, yet, " he repeated, pressing his thumb into Felix's glistening lip. God, he wanted to kiss him again. But Sylvain also wanted to hear what he had planned. "Implying you have something in mind to celebrate..."

Chapter 19: A Hero's Welcome

Summary:

“Yet,” he repeated. This time, Felix took his whole thumb in his mouth, laving his tongue over Sylvain’s slightly salty skin before pulling off again, pressing wet, languid kisses to his wrist and palm. “I want to give you a hero’s welcome.”

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The cold metal barely registered as Felix’s body began to warm as it always did with Sylvain. Their positioning, Sylvain looming, the healing bruises to his back all called back to the fateful day after their last mission with Adder. Back then, Felix had felt wild and ravenous. Now, the hunger remained, even increased, yet there was a calmness about it. Possibly because of their now shared history, possibly because he wasn’t the one in the cockpit to his right and that spark fizzled out without mention.

Yet,” he repeated. This time, Felix took his whole thumb in his mouth, laving his tongue over Sylvain’s slightly salty skin before pulling off again, pressing wet, languid kisses to his wrist and palm. “I want to give you a hero’s welcome.”

Sylvain's soul momentarily left his body at the teasing, at how quickly Felix had learned from him. He felt a bit of pride for at least being a good teacher in this area, and then all higher thought left him at the slick pass of Felix's tongue.

"A hero's welcome, huh?" he said, breath hitching just a little. "What might that look like?"

Felix dismissively intoned his agreement, much more interested in the small expanse of skin he could cover with his lips. When he spoke next, his voice went from sultry to something darker.

“It can look however you want, but I had the idea to welcome you back with something we weren’t able to finish.” His hand brushed Sylvain’s neck over the purple imprints of his mouth. After a moment's pause, he added, “If you’re still interested, that is.”

If he was still interested? Sylvain looked down at Felix in disbelief at the words, though the tone sent an undeniable shiver of lust rushing through his body. He brought his free hand up to mirror Felix's and stroked his partner's neck.

"And what didn't we get to finish earlier?" he teased, voice dropping down to meet Felix's pitch. He had a pretty good idea, but he enjoyed pushing Felix--seeing just how far he could go, how far he would go. For Sylvain, and only Sylvain. 

Felix looked up at Sylvain, meeting his eyes. In that instant, a look of panic passed his face. Did he really not remember? Felix froze a moment, embarrassment and shame clear on his face. It was dark and it was twisted… He wouldn’t want to continue what they began if that wasn’t...wait

Sylvain was fucking with him.

Felix stuck his thumb down firmly into the joint of Sylvain’s neck and shoulder. Pressing down into the pleasurable pressure, he rose up on his toes, his voice a low hiss.

I didn’t get to show you the pain you wanted.

Sylvain saw the self-doubt flicker across Felix's face and was about to say something comforting when he watched the expression flicker to one of dark understanding.

Give me all of it. I can take it.

He closed his eyes and leaned into the hiss with a shiver. Felix, while brusque, was never... this. And Sylvain was fucking here for it. The pressure was just the right side of painful and he moaned softly, suppressing the sound not because they were in public but because he wanted it to be only for Felix.

"I want you to now."

A look of understanding and if he were honest, relief passed his face. Releasing his thumb, Felix turned, grabbing Sylvain’s hand.

“Let’s go.”

Felix led Sylvain back to his room, closing the door behind them. Not giving much time, he approached Sylvain, sliding his hands to his sides. Gathering his courage, as much as for his and Sylvain’s behalf, he hesitated before steeling his voice.

“Ask me what you want to know.”

This was officially some of the weirdest foreplay Sylvain had ever experienced in his life, and so far he was loving it. However, it also made him nervous as hell. When they'd last left off, they'd both been in equally emotional, fucked-up states of mind. 

But now, things were different. Sylvain's hands were no longer bloody, and Felix was no longer crying about Glenn. Time to fix that.

He slid a gentle hand around the back of Felix's neck before leaning down to kiss him. Then he whispered against his partner's lips, "Tell me what you saw that day. Paint me a picture, Fe."

Felix lifted his head, meeting Sylvain’s lips with his own. He looked back up at him and pressing him at the sides of his hips, walked him back until he was pressed up against the wall. With a moment of hesitation, he reached a hand up to Sylvain’s eyes, blacking out his vision.

He looked off to the side, speaking slowly. “Have you ever seen the videos of the comm system of the M.1? Grainy, washed out video feed. Reds look brown. Blues are gray.”

Sylvain had. He'd spent so long staring at the muted shades as a child that once, when he was five, he asked Miklan if the whole world had lost its color. Miklan's answer had come in the form of a greenstick fracture.

There was a fleeting moment of panic as blackness descended over Sylvain's eyes, but Felix's voice and touch grounded him. And then Sylvain was almost there in the booth, seeing what Felix was describing for him. 

He wondered how much brown would be splattered across the interior by the end.

"Yeah, Fe. Everything's staticky, kind of uncanny. Unreal." His voice was a soft silky purr, urging his partner to continue.

In response, Felix gave a nod that Sylvain couldn’t see. “Unreal. Near enough to fool your own eyes.”

He paused. “You’ve been in my head. Rodrigue and Glenn and I, we all look similar. It was like looking into a dirty mirror. I saw myself in both of them.” With a shuddering breath, Felix continued. “On the right, it was me, only I had aged past fifty. On the left, only a few years older than I am now, a few inches taller. Do you see them? Do you see me?

Sylvain did. At first it was only for a moment, so brief and fleeting that it felt as though he were looking at something very far away through a thick fog. He took a breath and tried again, allowing Felix's voice to wash over him.

In his mind's eye, he scanned over Rodrigue and Glenn, feeling a chill at their blank, sepulchral gazes. He wasn't supposed to be here. Then he saw Felix, his Felix, but younger. Sylvain made a small strangled sound in the back of his throat.

"Yes, I see you. The three of you."

Felix was taken out of the silent reverie when he said three. Had he truly forgotten himself? He had, but Sylvain remembered. Even in this beyond-fucked exercise, Felix’s heart beat with a fondness for the man. Returning to himself for a slight dalliance, he pressed up, kissing the back of the hand covering Sylvain’s vision, the pressure as well as the darkness increasing proportionally for the moment.

Allowing the moment of fondness to pass, Felix continued. “Know that each one of us was stubborn. I had not spoken to them in almost a year. Swallowing pride or apologizing is admitting weakness.” Felix’s eyes fluttered shut. “I felt betrayed by them. I felt I had no one. I lived with anger and a hurt that only compounded with the loneliness I felt. They were all I had.”

“It took too long to figure out I wanted to forgive and be forgiven. But I did. It was that twin drive that led me to jaeger control.” As he spoke, he saw the scene. He was reliving it all. “I called in on their command line as a surprise. As soon as I spoke, they both looked into the camera. Disbelief, happiness, joy, timidity. I saw it all cross both their faces.”

He sighed into the words. “Before they could speak, the sonar sounded. Beeps of bogeys in triplicate. Even in the graininess, you can make out three of my faces with their fear, surprise, shock, terror.”

Felix's voice was raw as he told the story and Sylvain fell helplessly under the thrall of his words. It was almost like the Drift, but so much more acutely painful: a death by a thousand stinging cuts.

Through his partner's voice, Sylvain could see it all: the elation on those three faces, a progression of beauty over the lifespan. The surprise, the joy. The love, my god, the love. Sylvain moaned under his breath despite himself in anticipation of the inevitable downfall. Something bloomed and burst inside his chest as he allowed the horrific reality to sink in.

"And then what, Fe?"

Sylvain knew all about the triple-occurrence. Margrave had been especially vicious that evening after the news broke, but Sylvain had been too wrapped up in his own misery to pay attention to the names. Now it all made sense, and he wondered if, in some sick way, the chaos of the universe had collided for the sole purpose of bringing them together. 

The answer came far too calm even for his own ear.

“I felt parts of me die.”

Felix knew what he had to do here. He hesitated. He hesitated again. And even after, he hesitated longer. He had no desire to cause Sylvain pain…but if they were to share the good with the bad, the pleasure with the pain, this only followed.

“Tighten your abdomen.”

A silent prayer of forgiveness followed.

“The first, too fast.”

Keeping his hand over his eyes, Felix drew his hand back from Sylvain’s side. In an instant, he brought it forward with a hard shot to his stomach.

Fist pinning his body to the wall with a hard pressure, he spoke with a ragged voice. “One moment, present, the next, a pile of rusty gore. Water falling through the shredded metal.” 

Sylvain barely had a moment to follow the directive before hard knuckles were crashing into his stomach and his breath left him all at once. If not for the fist holding him to the wall, he might have slumped forward. He'd been expecting a bite or maybe a slap, but not a goddamn punch. He made a mental note to compliment Felix later.

After a moment of struggle, he re-learned how to breathe and focused in on Felix's words. Water. Sylvain knew water, knew gore, knew metal. At night, he tasted and dreamt of rust. A missing arm. A terrible scream.

The small corner of his mind that contained his sanity screamed at him that it was wrong to be enjoying this cruelty, but he couldn't stop. He writhed beneath the hand pinning him to the wall, gasping wordlessly.

The implicit trust Sylvain had. The absolute power and control he allowed Felix to wield over him. It was intoxicating.

“The second time…” Felix pressed his body against Sylvain’s, supporting his larger frame. His hand slotted beneath the outstretched palm, sealing tightly over Sylvain’s mouth, pinching his nose. “…was slow. Purposeful. High pitched screams. I’ve never heard Glenn’s voice that high.” He spoke softly as he felt Sylvain begin to convulse beneath his hand.

Sylvain whined softly beneath Felix's hand but did not struggle. Instead, he leaned into the brutal touch, lips parted and moist as he panted, already feeling condensation from his own breath beginning to bead up on his face.

He couldn't breathe, and that was fine. He couldn't breathe either when he was thirteen and the water was rushing in and Sylvain's helmet was covered in blood and Miklan...

The sound of Felix's dead brother's name jarred him from his own memories and into his partner's again. He made another muffled sound and used his foot to drag Felix's thigh forward and between his legs.

Felix wanted to be surprised at the movements. He wanted to be horrified. Something. That something was instead compliance. That something was eager. Hands not moving from their positions, Felix moved, raising his thigh, rolling his hips forward. As he moved, Felix dragged his blatant hardness against Sylvain’s own. He pressed his fingers closed, tighter over his mouth.

“Shrieks. Terrified. AI robotically denoting all equipment failures as an audit log. Trapped by harnesses designed to protect. Floodlights and auxiliary power light enough to show the unyielding effort to try and escape.”

His rutting became less exacting. There was a steady stream of tears down his cheeks that barely registered.

Sylvain opened his mouth to draw a fine, shivering line across Felix's palm with his tongue. Despite Felix's own obvious arousal, a small, guilty part of Sylvain's mind, the part that spoke to him in Miklan's voice when he was alone at night, told him that this was wrong, that he was broken. That Felix was broken, too. 

He bucked his hips into Felix's artlessly with a small startled cry and thought of puzzle pieces. How the two of them had come from entirely different sets but were both just flawed enough that they fit together perfectly. Fuck Miklan and his ghost: Sylvain was more than happy to be broken with Felix as long as they could do it together.

He reveled in the awful descriptions, pulse racing hummingbird-fast, and remained silent except for the occasional moan or sigh whenever Felix did something he particularly liked. It was terrible, what he was doing to Felix, what they were doing to each other, and Sylvain had never felt more fucking alive.

The tongue at his palm, more than anything, was a comfort. He was still there. They were still together, finding themselves among the chaos that had been their lives.

Felix leaned his entire body into Sylvain, pressing his hand in earnest, hard pressure against his jaw, stifling all air.

“I watched him struggle until the comm lost power. The last AI communication read out that the left hemisphere sustained a break. Glenn broke his arm trying and failing to escape.”

Only the sound of their rugged breaths and Sylvain’s moans kept Felix’s mind in the present.

The gruesome image of Miklan's orphaned arm being flung into the sea by the kaiju flashed before Sylvain's eyes. His entire body shuddered as he pictured the way the sky had looked that day, clear and blue. The way Miklan had looked at him just before they'd attacked. The desperate way Sylvain had wanted to make his big brother proud and had gotten the opposite in return.

He whimpered a broken version of Felix's name into his palm, the tears in his partner's voice getting to him in a thousand different ways. The sharp jut of Felix's hipbone against his was painful, and Sylvain rutted against it with new vigor in a silent plea for more.

Felix’s motions became wild with abandon, bucking artlessly, crashing their bodies together.

“Everyone around me was screaming and panicking. They were sending out multiple deployments. No one thought to see to me. I stood there watching the viscera that Rodrigue was reduced to pool around Glenn’s shins. I watched Glenn cry for his daddy.”

He took his hand from Sylvain’s nose and mouth, only to replace it on his neck, squeezing at the sides.

Somewhere along the line, Sylvain had begun to cry, and tears smeared across his face and neck as Felix moved his hand. He reached out with trembling fingers to grasp the shorter man's hip, guiding him forward and back in a slow grind while he listened. He kept his eyes closed; he knew Felix was crying, too, and looking at him now felt too invasive. Instead, he tilted his head up and slightly back to allow Felix easier access to his throat, pulse thrumming wildly.

The pulse under his fingers was the reminder he needed. He relived the deaths he had always seen as a part of himself. Although he was not dead, he had felt as though he was.

Felix moved his hand, extending it and squeezed where Sylvain allowed. He let himself be handled into the slow grind of his hips. He needed more. Rasping out, Felix called to him in the only way he could, pressing desperately into his fiancé.

There was a sudden lightness to the air, as if a dense fog had been lifted. Sylvain brought his other hand down to cup Felix's ass before picking him up, guiding long legs around his waist. The dead were dead, and some people weren't dead enough yet. But here was something real.

"Hold onto me, Fe."

He turned them around to press Felix's back against the wall for leverage, hands scrabbling for purchase anywhere he could find it. The vulnerability of the moment made his instincts scream to hide his face, but Sylvain opened his eyes. He paused for a moment to look at his fiancé admiringly before leaning in and slowly licking the tears from his face with a small groan.

When familiar hands gripped and lifted him, Felix moved his arms and legs around Sylvain, slotting them easily against his frame. He was still more than unsure at what to call any of this. But for the first time since they began, Felix looked freely upon the man he loved. A smile of adoration, flushed cheeks, streaks of tears. 

Leaning forward, he felt a sensation he was getting all too familiar with. Sylvain purposefully leaned in to taste his tears. He had done this on a handful of occasions and it fascinated Felix. Mirroring his moves, Felix licked from his defined jaw to his high cheekbones. The saltiness was evident, but so was the taste of Sylvain. Lapping a strip, Felix moaned out, remaining close.

On the verge of being overwhelmed, Felix breathed reverently, “Sylvain…you’re perfect for me.”

Not perfect. They were both fucked. People with jagged, non-uniform pieces. But like this, slotted against one another, they created a mosaic of support and one of love. Was this the picture of either? No. But to them? It was shaping to look like it might be. 

Sylvain shuddered again, this time at the sincerity, the love behind Felix's praise. The hot, featherlight touch of the tongue on his own damp cheek drew a small hiccupping moan.

"Fe," he whispered. "Fe, I love you so fucking much." He wondered how the hell he was so lucky, why he'd gotten so lucky when he didn't deserve a goddamn thing, but here they were.

Sylvain’s tense, urgent whispers hit Felix in an indescribable manner. He spoke them as if they were lifelines, as if Sylvain was unworthy or that Felix would lord over his emotions or deprive him of anything. The way he spoke, it killed Felix because it couldn’t be further from the truth. He was desperate for Sylvain’s love. Now that he had it, he was terrified of losing it, there was no going back.

Felix held his head between his hands, covering every inch of skin he could with his frantic kisses.

“What do you need, Sylvain? Take it. Take it all from me. Please.

What did he need? Felix was the only person who had ever asked Sylvain what he wanted, let alone needed, in his entire life. He and Felix had just been breathtakingly cruel to one another. He'd broken Felix down, and as he spoke, Sylvain held Felix's gaze with gentle eyes.

"I'm gonna put us back together, Fe."

He left a soft, sweet kiss on Felix's lips before dipping his head to suck bruises across the pale landscape of his lover's neck, trying to imbue each movement of his mouth with affection, adoration, safety. His breath came in little stutters as he ground against Felix, pressing the other man flat to the wall and holding him there with a firm, sure grip.

Acknowledgment of their broken parts. Acknowledgement that neither was complete without the other. Felix couldn't take the implications of the soft recognition. Tears began anew, falling down his cheeks. Unlike the ones on Sylvain's tongue, these were not born of some, silently kept hurt. These were...Felix couldn't readily explain why he was crying now. He simply felt overwhelmed and he didn't want it to stop. He wanted to be overwhelmed, mind, body, and fucking soul by Sylvain.

For every way Sylvain moved against him, Felix moved in tandem. The hold he had over him, as literal as it was figurative, Felix felt secure. Pressed hard against the wall, he angled his hips towards Sylvain's motions. With a particularly vicious suck, Felix moaned out, "More Sylvain. I want more of you. I need you."

I need you.  

The same three words Felix had let slip out during their first time together. Sylvain had known even back then that it wasn't a mistake, that his beautiful Fe had accidentally spoken one of his deepest truths. Above him, he heard Felix beginning to cry again and suckled insistently at a spot just below his ear, grazing his teeth over the fevered flesh.

His right hand crept up and inward to dance along the tender crook of Felix's thigh.

"What do you need, sweetheart?"

"Pain."

The answer came out of him the instant the new pet name left Sylvain's lips. His instinct was to be embarrassed, ashamed for asking something so crude, so fucking masochistic. But...he didn't. It was Sylvain. Their pasts, although very different from each other shaped who they were now. In each other, they found a kindred spirit that stemmed from their experiences, now manifesting in their mutual acknowledgment. Sylvain had given him gentleness and understanding. Now, he wanted more.

Felix gathered himself enough out of his lust-filled haze to regard Sylvain with open honesty.

"Ruin me. I need you to take me apart."

He followed his words with a soft kiss to Sylvain's forehead. "I know you will put me back together after."

Notes:

In this chapter: Physical violence! Mutual reliving of flashbacks! All sorts of psychic violence! Tread lightly.

Anyway, here's your all-inclusive Whumptober.

Chapter 20: "Dima."

Summary:

Making a show of it, he turned his head, no longer looking at the fucking Adonis that was his Sylvain. Head angled to the side, his mouth was unobstructed. He began to move his fingers faster, moaning in earnest, his eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure.

“Mmmm… Right there. You feel so good, Dima.”

Chapter Text

It was far from the first time someone had asked Sylvain to hurt them, whether in the context of sex or otherwise. But this time, knowing Felix as intimately as he did, it felt effortless instead of having to ensure perfect weather conditions, calculate for wind direction...

Ruin me. There was that word again, another four-letter set that had, for them, become almost synonymous with love. Sylvain grasped at Felix, whirling them around and practically throwing the smaller man onto the bed before crawling atop him.

"How?" he breathed, gripping Felix's jaw with one hand and jerking his head up. Then he descended once more to Felix's neck, where he continued to add to the collection of bruises there.

Felix squirmed under the solid weight that was Sylvain. The absolute non-existent amount of hesitation sent waves of pleasure through his body and mind. How responsive was his Sylvain? How utterly dedicated to his Felix he was. He moaned through the uncomfortable stretch of his neck as he snaked his hands down between their bodies to unfasten their strained pants.

Felix let out a choked moan, "Claw at me. Grip my hair. Turn me over and fuck me into the mattress."

Even though he frequently chose not to, Sylvain was, in fact, very good at following instructions. He made quick work of their pants before slipping a hand between them and prodding at Felix's entrance. He wanted pain; the only question was, how much?

"Lube," he demanded, much as he had that first night. "Where do you keep yours? Or..." Dropping his voice to almost a growl he continued, "...do you want it to hurt?"

The tip of his middle finger rubbed tight circles as he shifted his position to leave a tiny stinging bruise just to the left of Felix's Adam's apple.

Every move Sylvain made only reaffirmed what Felix knew to be true and why he asked this of Sylvain. At every step, in each of his otherwise wild and powerful moves, he waited for Felix's consent and command. It was an echo of something Sylvain had asked regarding their weapons in Adder. Even then, before they were ever able to connect on a physical level, Felix saw control and respect in Sylvain. He trusted him then and now, that trust was implicit. 

Head to the side, Felix brought his lips to Sylvain's ear, rolling his hips down, eliciting a dry hiss from the pressure.

" Hurt me."

Even though he generally liked to think of himself as smooth, Sylvain still found himself stumbling for words at the directive. 

"Okay," he whispered simply, too focused on the primal hunger in Felix's gaze to bother with pretty words. Sylvain was used to feeling powerful, but he wasn't used to being trusted. Every small sound, every movement, every glance from Felix cried trust, and it caused a new and sharp and utterly delicious kind of pain.

He braced himself on his elbow and shoved his middle and ring fingers into Felix's mouth, moaning freely at the wet heat. His other hand continued to work circles at Felix's rim, the tip of one finger dipping just inside.

Felix groaned as Sylvain inserted his long digits into his mouth. The groan turned to a breathless gasp when his tight entrance was penetrated by a probing finger and he mewled, forcing himself to focus. Like this, it was easy to see Sylvain's dedication to his pleasure and comfort. Already, both hands were at work providing exactly what was asked for. His moans were a mouthpiece for his own pleasure. Knowing that he was not only complying for Felix's benefit, but was getting pleasure from it himself only furthered Felix's enjoyment.

"That's it," Sylvain purred at the lave of Felix's tongue. "You're being so good for me, Fe."

He was painfully hard but tried to ignore it, leaning into the discomfort instead. He watched for a moment with glassy dark eyes as Felix worked at his fingers with his talented tongue before reluctantly withdrawing the digits. 

But Felix had asked for agony, not tenderness. Sylvain replaced his dry finger with the two Felix had just slicked up for him and shoved them both inside roughly, biting down into Felix's shoulder to stifle his own moan.

Sylvain's acknowledgement and praise made Felix moan even more, making the loss of the sensation palpable when Sylvain removed them. That feeling of loss was soon replaced by blinding pressure and pain. Felix let out a sharp yelp, body tensing, going rigid and he grit his teeth. The bite to his shoulder served to displace some of his attention, but the pain was ever-present. There was now no doubt in Felix's mind that there was a point other than teasing to remove his fingers.

Felix hissed through his locked jaw, forcing air out, willing himself to take labored breaths. Biting down on his lip, he gasped out a string of profanities, again, trying to will himself to unclench incrementally, which was proving far more difficult than anticipated.

"F-fuck...Sylvain...."

The low hiss in response to his fingers gave Sylvain momentary pause, and he pulled back to gauge Felix's expression. Too much? He gave himself an indulgent moment to take everything in: Felix sprawled gracelessly beneath them, because they no longer needed to bother with pretense. Flushed cheeks, hopelessly disheveled hair, swollen lips, bruises everywhere Sylvain could reach. He decided that the cries he was drawing from Felix meant Not enough, and was struck by the realization of just how much, how fiercely he loved this man.

So he twisted cruel fingers and crooked them, effortlessly finding Felix's prostate and pressing in hard. He knew from experience, he thought with a dizzying rush of pleasure, that this was a surefire way to make Felix come thoroughly undone, to make him beg. And Sylvain was nothing if not skilled at taking things apart, making sure to completely raze the structure before building it back up.

"Yes, Felix?" he purred.

And Felix was unaware his voice could go as high as it did.

When Sylvain curled his fingers applying a hard immediate pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves, Felix shrieked out, lowering into a light whine. And it was this that he wanted from him; it was this that he loved about Sylvain. Power at his fingertips, the option to use it at his disposal and choosing to use it on Felix in a manner that he asked for, in a manner that Felix was nearly begging for.

He whimpered, closing his eyes tightly, furrowing his brow in concentration. With no little effort, he gritted out with a laugh, "Cocky motherfucker."

"Feel free to stop me if I'm boring you," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye as he repeated the motion with his fingers again, and again, and again. He felt drunk off the new sounds that he wasn't even aware Felix could make--and he had a feeling Felix was surprised, too. Sylvain felt a little thrill at that, too; he was an explorer charting undiscovered territory, and he couldn't wait to see what else he could make Felix do.

He began to move slowly down Felix's body, trailing his fingernails across the soft skin and hard muscle in unpredictable patterns. After a while, just when he'd passed Felix's waist and was contemplating how much he could bruise his partner using only his mouth, he slipped a third finger into his waiting body. All the while, the motion of his wrist, his fingers remained relentless.

As much as Felix liked giving Sylvain control over him, he knew he had a vicious teasing streak. One that Felix could deal with, but fuck was it annoying in this exact goddamn moment.

There was no rest for any part of Felix's body. Sylvain's erratic fingers and mouth on his body offered no patterned passes, directional or pressure-wise. Oddly enough, when his third finger intruded next to the two already hard-fought, relentless digits, it was a welcomed jolt to his system. The localized pain and pressure it added sparked his senses, allowing him to focus on the one spot, even grinding down into the penetrating trio.

Summoning all the attention he could to string a coherent thought together, he breathed out heavily, between moans, "I'll fucking end you if you stop."

Damn. Felix had even picked up Sylvain's talent for sexual threats. And he was good at it, too. He hesitated for a moment, stilling the persistent thrust of his fingers, and merely held Felix to the mattress while he licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock. Then he pulled back to admire the lovely flush painting Felix's entire body.

"And how do you plan to end me?" he whispered against Felix's stomach, arching his back and shoulders to avoid providing the friction he knew Felix so desperately wanted. Sylvain also knew that he was a fast learner and was eager to see if--how -- he planned to make good on his promise.

Felix shivered when Sylvain paid direct, yet anemic attention to his weeping cock. 

Though noticeably smaller than him, Felix's stature didn't belie the exceptional strength in his compact form. His hands which, until this moment had been extremely preoccupied scrunching up his sheets, found a new home in Sylvain's hair. Immediately threading to the root of his thick locks, Felix pulled firmly up, getting a good look at the handsome cocky face of his lover, a pleasant mixture of pain and pleasure. Holding him static in place, Felix engaged his core, moving his hips, rolling down, fucking himself on Sylvain's stilled fingers. 

With a sharp smile and flushed cheeks, Felix hissed in warning.

"Don't test my creativity."

Sylvain was definitely going to test his creativity.

Despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, he found himself whimpering weakly into Felix's hip while he flicked his tongue over the bone in small strokes. God, he wanted nothing more than to move just a little to the left and take Felix in his mouth, but he wanted to keep pushing him.

Looking up once more to meet Felix's eyes, Sylvain began to match his rhythm with his fingers. Between the locks in his hair, Felix's flush, and the way Sylvain had unconsciously began to grind his aching cock down into the bed--Felix's bed, he remembered with another soft moan.

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

Many things passed through Felix's mind in the instant that Sylvain posed his question. He thought of just how easy it would be to unceremoniously crash his head down, suffocating him on his cock. He quickly let that one pass. Sylvain would love that. No punishment there.

Next, the idea to lock his legs, pulling Sylvain into a triangle choke came to mind. This would be more exertion and would be a pretty easy way to add uncomfortable pressure, yet, as his initial thought, there was still a high chance for his enjoyment.

Anything he did stood only to spur on Sylvain. That wasn't nearly the threat that he wanted. Nearly at an impasse, Felix was loath to admit defeat...until he had it.

Effort was needed and while he had no idea how convincing he could be, he would certainly act like he intended to make good on his threat. With a disappointed look, he shook his head.

"Finishing myself alone. Without you."

He released the grip on his hair, bending his legs to get up.

Sylvain's stomach dropped. At first he thought it was with disappointment, but then he realized that it was overwhelming desire instead. Any sign of un-Felix-like behavior was quickly becoming an addiction for him, so he unceremoniously withdrew his fingers and sat back on his heels.

"Do it, then. But...am I allowed to do this?"

He reached a hand between his own thighs and trailed his fingertips over the head of his leaking cock, giving a little moan for show. He suspected the answer would be no, and he was more than fine with that.

 

And he called his bluff.

Great.

There was no backing down now. He was flying blind now. But Felix Hugo fucking Fraldarius didn't back down.

"I don't care," he said simply. Scooting up, further away from Sylvain, "You can do whatever you want to yourself."

Still very much lined up with Sylvain, he turned over to his knees with a bend in his back, arching his ass backwards. Snaking his hand back through his legs, he found his partially stretched entrance where he began to touch himself with quiet moans as his breath hitched over his motions. 

 

Fuck. He was done for.

Sylvain swallowed hard while he pondered just what the hell he had gotten himself into. He watched, almost mesmerized, at the sight of Felix's slender fingers sliding into himself, the way he could see the stretch around the digits, the soft moans with and sighs that each movement, no matter how minuscule, punched out of him.

With a slow, shuddering breath, Sylvain cupped his palm around the head of his cock and rubbed gently. They were playing a game now, teasing each other, seeing whose willpower was stronger. And even though people claimed the opposite about him, Sylvain had an iron will.

 

For fuck’s actual sake.

He should’ve said he couldn’t touch himself.

Felix felt himself shudder as he looked back, lust-blown pupils as he watched Sylvain slowly stroke his perfect fucking cock that should be inside him right fucking now. He couldn’t stop the hungry moan that came out in response.

 

Felix wasn’t going to give in, but he was close to playing a very dangerous game.

Inserting a second, third shallow finger, Felix whined at the stretch, quivering in the briefest scrapes against his sensitive prostate. His cock bounced with his motions, smearing precum between his stomach and his sheets.

Unbeknownst to Felix, Sylvain had the exact same thought at the exact same time: They were playing the most dangerous game. Fuck hunting people. Trying to outlast Felix as he watched his cock sway heavily between his thighs, wanting desperately to put it in his mouth wasn't just a challenge--it was a fucking otherworldly experience.

But he wasn't a quitter, and he certainly wasn't about to lose. He would beat Felix at his own game and when he did, he fully intended to fuck him into the sheets until he screamed his name loud enough for everyone in the dormitory to hear.

He gave a devilish grin and repeated the motion several times before beginning to stroke himself in earnest, watching his fiancé's face carefully for clues about what he liked best so he could torture him more effectively. 

It was that look. That fucking look of certainty.

He knew he was the fucking hottest thing.

He knew he was tempting and that he was winning.

He knew he was Felix’s only.

Felix had to go for broke. He was completely prepared to provide whatever apology or guarantee if his gamble failed miserably, but for the possible reward of a territorial Sylvain to take his proper fucking place? Felix was ready to risk it.

Making a show of it, he turned his head, no longer looking at the fucking Adonis that was his Sylvain. Head angled to the side, his mouth was unobstructed. He began to move his fingers faster, moaning in earnest, his eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure.

“Mmmm… Right there. You feel so good, Dima.”

What. The. Fuck.

Sylvain saw red for the briefest of moments before he realized that Felix was baiting him, trying to get him to nearly hatefuck the thoughts of Dimitri out of his head. 

And he was more than happy to oblige. He was on top of Felix in an instant, pushing him facedown into the pillow with a hand to the back of his neck. His other hand reached beneath Felix to jerk his hips up and back as Sylvain slid into him. He leaned forward as he began to fuck Felix rough and slow, still teasing, and snarled in his ear.

"What was that, darling? I didn't hear you the first time."

There we are.

The results were immediate.

All at once, Sylvain was on him, pressing him roughly down, slotting into his tight hole in one well-aimed motion. Felix gasped, equal parts glee and the tenuous line between pleasure and pain.

With Sylvain’s reaction, his body pressed into him, the snarl at his ear, Felix’s body was on fire. He wanted more, he was well on his way to getting exactly what he wanted.

With effort, Felix pressed himself up enough to turn his head towards where Sylvain loomed. Sharing the same labored breath, no matter how Sylvain’s hips snapped, Felix watched him, answering defiantly.

“I said. ‘Right there. You feel so good, Dima.’”

He regarded Sylvain with a smirk typically reserved for the heat of battle. “Need me to say it louder?” 

In response to the sudden brattiness, Sylvain wound his fingers into long dark hair and pulled. Hard. Keeping his tight grip on Felix's hair, nails digging into his scalp, he growled, "Do you think Dima would be capable of fucking you even half as good?"

He doubted it, but he wanted to hear Felix's reply--if he'd sass back or concede defeat and let Sylvain fuck him into a boneless, quivering mess. Riding high on the wave of adrenaline from Felix's words, he began to thrust harder at a punishing pace. The skin on his thighs was beginning to burn and he wondered if Felix would have a pretty red flush on the backs of his by the time Sylvain was done with him.

He hoped so. 

Only his Sylvain could pull this from Felix. The hard pull at his hair pulled an instant groan from probably his fucking soul, arching back into Sylvain.

The feral growl at his ear curled Felix’s fucking toes. His Sylvain was here and in fine form. But…he asked. And Felix was on a roll. Or the fact that absolutely no blood was going to his head played a part in his response.

Breathless, on the verge of blissed out ecstasy, Felix didn’t even know if he believed his own taunt. He shot back, “He might be…if you stopped fucking around…and fucked me like you meant it.”

The taunt was all he needed to release Felix's hair, only to sink brutal fingers, blunt nails and all, deep into his hips. He could feel the bed moving with them, sliding across the floor, could hear the way the metal headboard was banging against the wall. If anyone complained or asked questions later, he supposed he could always tell them that he and Felix had been banging pots and pans to celebrate their victory, but it was such an obvious lie that he might as well add "shelling peas and sewing pillowcases" to the explanation, too.

"Like this?" he murmured in a soft voice that served as beautiful contrast to the urgent, forceful snap of his hips.

"Y-yes!”

And this was what he wanted. What he needed. The last vestiges of his strength were spent reaching back, giving a quick squeeze to his wrist, before collapsing on his elbows as Sylvain was well on his way to breaking his bed and Felix himself. Just like he wanted.

He became a babbling mess, making incoherent yips and moans with each savage thrust. All at once he approached the horizon of absolute pleasure.

Syl-v-ain!

With a scream of his love’s name, Felix came hard into his sheets.

The tight clench of Felix's orgasm around his cock nearly made Sylvain white out for a moment--he didn't think he'd ever felt Felix get quite this tight before and filed away "cruelty and psychic violence" under the "Felix's turn-ons" category for future use. As his own orgasm washed over him in seemingly endless waves, he leaned down and bit the side of Felix's neck. 

"Say my name again," he commanded, though his voice was shaky as he came down. The faux-hostility had faded away and Sylvain felt himself melt with affection, placing little kisses to all the spots he'd bitten and bruised.

Body rising and falling, he felt his spend fill him before escaping down the round of his cleft. In breathy gasps, he answered immediately.

“Sylvain… my Sylvain, mine--

He flailed his arm back weakly, scrubbing for purchase against him as he felt soft lips over his neck and back, finally managing to hook his palm, holding him in the only way he could manage.

Sylvain whimpered at the gentle touch, the way Felix held him close even as he was beginning to soften as if he wanted them to be connected forever. And for the first time in his life, Sylvain found that he wouldn't mind it.

He also wondered if anyone had, indeed, heard Felix as he leaned over to grab the box of tissues sitting by the bed. Like most things with Felix these days, it felt so domestic that it almost hurt. He placed the box gently on the bed next to them and returned to his former position, lips pressed against the spot just behind Felix's ear.

"My Fe," he breathed, and closed his eyes.

He was his and no one else’s. That was certain. The amount of reliefs that his emphasis on ‘my’ meant everything to Felix in that moment. It was paramount he recognized, knew, and was assured that was and remained the case.

His body finally went slack, Sylvain slipping out of him, garnering a gasp of loss from Felix as he felt the mess at his backside. And he couldn’t fucking care less. Arm back at a slightly better angle, he held his head in the crook of his elbow, fingers patting mindlessly through his hair.

“Your Fe only. I love you, Sylvain Jose.”

"My Fe only,"  he repeated, shifting to the side so he could spoon Felix. "The one I love more than anything else in the world."

The use of his middle name used to leave Sylvain paralyzed with fear but falling from Felix's lips, it sounded sweet and caring. 

"And I'm your Sylvain. Who happens to hate his middle name, which makes you, Fe, the only person in the world who gets to say it." He planted three little kisses across the bridge of Felix's nose, where freckles might be if he had any.

Felix contentedly wriggled into Sylvain’s sweaty body, carving out a place in his musculature. Three kisses given. They were back.

His nose scrunched with the featherlight touches as his cheeks likely doubled their flush, this time blushing from Sylvain’s words. Felix grabbed out at his arm draping it over his body, moving impossibly closer.

“If you don’t like it, I don’t need to say your middle name.”

"Actually, Fe, I kinda like it coming from you. Overrides the bad memories of it, you know?"

Sylvain had no idea when Felix had begun to actually heal him, but he hoped he was able to do the same. He repeated the kisses twice and thought about how he'd never grow tired of seeing that faint, bashful blush.

"Are you okay? That was...intense. Thank you for that. I...I think we both really needed it."

To say that he got it in this specific instance would be inaccurate, but, as far as replacing memories with better ones? Felix could respect the fuck out of that. And...he wouldn't mind the memories of that scratchy film being taken over with the high-definition vision of Sylvain's freckled skin and the surround sound of him as he called Felix's name.

"Then, you get to be called that every once in a while and can't complain about it." Again, he joked. Kinda.

But as for the other part, Felix responded without levity, "I am okay. I'm better than that, truth be told." His eyes looked askance for a moment before continuing, "I hope it was something that you needed or could use too...I know I needed it." He leaned forward, pressing a similar three, quick pecks into his sun-kissed skin. "Thank you for being there for me. For what I needed..."

Sylvain smiled at the gesture and gave him three more in return. He'd quickly learned how very responsive Felix was to touch, how reliant. Especially emotionally, and Sylvain's heart swelled at the knowledge that Felix--his Felix--had let him in. He'd willingly let down his walls, opened the door and allowed Sylvain to walk right in. God, what a fucking gift it all was.

"Thank you, Fe," he whispered. "You're everything I need. Love you." 

Then, after a moment's thought, he added, "Wonder if the rest of the crew is doing anything to celebrate tonight. You up for it if they are?" 

"Love you back."

And Felix was happy to leave that particular emotional turn at that.

More to the point he made or at least was inquiring about, Felix shrugged.

"I know people were getting together in the main hall," he sat up, looking at the digital clock overhead. "...they're probably still at it."

He looked at Sylvain, a man not ready for bed. And honestly, neither was he. Felix was ready at the drop of a hat and for the moment, the hat was solidly on the ground.

With a nod, Felix shrugged, "Yeah, I'm down. For awhile at least." He sat up, patting Sylvain on his side.

"Want to go get changed and meet me outside? And then." He look down, before ending the slightest bit sheepishly, "Go together...?"

The shyness in Felix's voice made Sylvain melt a little and he reached out to cup his fiancé's chin.

"Who else would I go with?" he teased lightly. "I'll  meet you outside in ten."

Chapter 21: Hallways

Summary:

"Dima. I want you to be extremely careful with what you say next."

Chapter Text

Once back in his own room, Felix quickly changed, eager for clothing other than their standard tack. He wore a leather jacket over his favored cut-off turtleneck with compression leggings that hugged each nook and cranny of his musculature--and, most importantly, were extremely comfortable. Since they weren't leaving base, Felix didn't bother attaching his normal identification or his pocket knuckles. He fluffed his hair, not worrying to put up his regular ponytail as he opened the door to wait in the hall for Sylvain...when he almost ran into Dimitri.

"Watch yourself."

Confused, Felix asked, "What do you mean? This is my room. What were you doing so close to the door? You should be the one watching out for me."

The chuckle that Dimitri gave to that particular reaction wasn't terribly helpful.

"I don't need to watch for anything."

Felix looked at him sharply. "The fuck does that mean?"

Dimitri answered with a smirk, far too sly for such a big man.

"It means I could hear Sylvain and you down the hallway before I ever got close to your room. I was coming to get you for the celebration."

At that, Felix saw red and pushed Dimitri once before grabbing at his stupid collar and dragging him to the less-traveled hallway. 

Felix was taking longer than usual; with a frown, Sylvain walked back toward his room and knocked on the door. No answer. He rolled his eyes fondly, half-expecting Felix to pop out and scare him...or drag him inside.

To occupy himself while he waited, Sylvain decided to do a lap through the hallways. He was approaching a long, narrow one that was rarely used when he heard two familiar voices speaking in hushed tones and the sound of someone being dragged. The yellowed overhead lights flickered as he carefully made his way down the corridor.

"Fe?" he called. "Is that you? Is everything okay?" 

 

*

 

If anyone called for him in that moment, hell, if a fucking kaiju alarm went off then, Felix wouldn't have heard it. The blood was thrumming loudly in his ears and he was far too busy digging his white knuckles into Dimitri's skin-tight pullover.

Though the larger man could have put up resistance, he didn't attempt to do so. And this meant absolutely nothing to Felix. Slamming him against the wall, Felix pulled his neck down, snarling in his face.

"The fuck difference does that make for you, huh?" When Dimitri hemmed and hawed, speaking softly with an authority he didn't possess and not forthcoming with an acceptable answer, Felix shot forward, even further, kicking his foot up to his hand.

In the quick motion, Felix pulled a small metallic dagger from his boot's lining, placing its tip flush against Dimitri's deceptively hard body; the blade's edge pressed against the juncture of his kidneys. He dropped his voice to a dangerous sultry tone.

"Dima. I want you to be extremely careful with what you say next. I won't take any pleasure in gutting you, but I won't hesitate to do so."

Dimitri's hitching breaths and downcast eyes filled Felix with an aggressiveness that hadn't been present before.

"The next time you hear anything. Or the next time you believe you to hear anything of your goddamn fellow cadet, fucking leave it. Do I make myself fucking clear? Or else, you and whoever else will..."

Fe?  Sylvain's voice broke through his anger and snapped him back to the moment.

He tucked his knife back into his inner bootstrap and turned towards the mouth of the hallway.

"Sylvain?"

Fuck. Felix definitely should not have been hot like that, with a much taller man shoved up against the wall, a knife to his gut and a smile on his face and murder in his eyes. But he was. Sylvain swallowed hard and approached as delicately as someone crossing a minefield.

Which, really, was the perfect word to describe the scene.

"Fe," he said again, quieter this time, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right? What happened here?" He cast suspicious eyes up at Dimitri but said nothing, waiting to follow Felix's lead, to go along with the line for once. 

The hand to Felix's shoulder made him twitch, wild eyes going to Sylvain, quickly going back to Dimitri. Felix gave a quick nod before stepping back.

"Nothing important. Just setting some ground rules. We're good." 

It wasn't a question. Without waiting for a response, Felix turned on his heel and stalked away. Dimitri was left offering a shuddering breath as he watched the man of the hour walk away from him, a clear focus on his retreating form.

Sylvain's gaze turned icy as he surveyed the man bracing himself against the wall, panting pathetically. Any warm feelings he might've held for his fiancé's co-pilot had evaporated. Felix was ferocious, yes, but Sylvain had never seen him like that before. He wasn't sure what Dimitri had done to rile him up, but whatever it was, it must have been bad.

He followed Felix's quick, irritated steps back down the alleyway, jogging a little to catch up. Once he was back by Felix's side, Sylvain slung a comforting arm across his shoulders and drew him in close as they walked.

"Fe, what kind of 'ground rules' are we talking about, here?" 

Felix hated that he bristled at the touch of his fiancé, but he was more than on edge at the moment. As such, he answered in a clipped, irritated fashion, "Nothing worth being fucking talked about. Basic fucking respect--ground rules. He came with stupid remarks towards you and I'm not fucking having that."

He pulled back, surveying his surroundings.

"Basics. Common decency. Where do you think you were going?"

"I was looking for you," Sylvain said simply. "So we could head to the party together and show each other off." 

Felix's tone set his nerves on edge and he felt something inside him shrink back like an anxious child. Steeling himself, he spoke again, mirroring what Felix had said to him after Dorothea's invasion.

"Fe, if it's this bad, it's something we should talk about. What did he say? C'mon, I can take it."

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." Felix was tired of this. If this back and forth was going to continue, it would be...

The familiar words stood out to him, but nothing else as he strode to the area where the personnel were gathering.

"It's fine and I took care of him." Felix rolled his eyes. There was no chuckle.

If Felix had seemed annoyed before, it was clear he was now pissed.

"Fe, please," Sylvain said, trying to keep his voice from tumbling off the raw edge of desperation. "Talk to me. Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it." 

He stepped swiftly in front of his fiancé and placed both hands on his shoulders, looking down into hard amber eyes with his own soft brown ones.

The large body serving as an obstacle did force him to stop in his path. Felix snapped.

"You did nothing I would have you fucking change, Sylvain. He fucking heard us. Earlier. I don't know what the purpose was, but I fucking won't have anyone disparaging you for any any fucking reason. Even my co-pilot. And I'm happy to make good on that," he added with savage familiarity.

Sylvain felt a stab of guilt that went straight to his gut at the words. Before...well, everything, he might have been proud that someone had heard them, that he was good enough to prompt that kind of reaction. But now he felt only a hot twist of shame. He'd wanted people to hear Felix, but now that it had happened, he just felt dirty. It took everything in him not to apologize when he opened his mouth next.

"He's jealous, Fe. Not of me, I don't think, but of what you and I have. Together. " He stressed the final word and squeezed gently at Felix's shoulder.

The squeeze to his shoulder offered a more grounded situation. Felix didn’t know what was Dimitri’s deal, but having Sylvain there did feel better. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his smile or words of supposed encouragement.

“It’s whatever now. I don’t care about being singled out, but the second it’s about you? Hah. No."

"Well, we have that in common."

Sylvain slid his other hand up Felix's heavily bruised neck to cup the sharp line of his jaw and draw him in for a slow, sweet kiss. But the question still nagged at him--what exactly had Dimitri said that had gotten Felix so worked up?

"What exactly did he say that got you so worked up?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. It was clear Felix didn't want to talk about it and yet here he was, true to form, pushing and pushing and pushing.

Felix let himself be pulled into the slow kiss Sylvain gave him. Maybe he could allow himself more if that was all it was.

What Sylvain couldn’t have heard: "You can do much better than the Gautier boy. His poor reputation precedes him and you being mixed up in it is beneath you."

That was the reason Felix pulled his knife on Dimitri. The anger that he had felt in that moment was nearly palpable. And now, his frustration was bubbling over.

He pulled away, turning his jaw away from his hands.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, does it? It pissed me off and that’s it. I don’t need you to share my anger or anything else. Just drop it.”

Sylvain set his mouth in a thin unhappy line and nodded. He was nosy, and he liked hearing awful things about himself. He wondered how creative Dimitri could have gotten to upset Felix so much. He dropped his hands and placed them instead at Felix's waist, holding him gently.

"It's okay, Fe. Doesn't matter what he said. I'm yours, and you're mine, and that's all that matters."

So then why the fuck did he feel so weird all of a sudden? 

The hands at his waist grounded him but looking up at Sylvain’s unsatisfied face left an ill-defined feeling in Felix. But he answered his true words all the same.

“Exactly my point. You chose me and I chose you and that’s it.”

Felix put his hands over Sylvain’s, holding them. Exhaling a large sigh, Felix let his head fall back. “I need a fucking drink.”

"Yeah, we could both use one, I think. Or several." 

 

Chapter 22: Love Drunk

Summary:

The faces more or less all looked the same to Sylvain, and he figured that was probably because he'd fucked most of them and his brain was no longer able to differentiate between them because the number was simply too high. But he beamed with pride at each and every one as he announced loudly, voice only a touch slurred:

"This is my Felix, everyone!"

Chapter Text

Sylvain expertly maneuvered them toward a table piled with bottles of what passed for alcohol these days. He made a little game of it, seeing how close he could keep Felix while they made their way through the swarming mass of excited cadets.  He noted that some of them were already drunk and made a promise to himself to join them soon, and very soon.

With one hand still pressed firmly to Felix's back, Sylvain twisted and extended a long arm to snatch an entire bottle of what used to be Jack Daniels. He had no idea what the fuck was in it now, and he didn't care.

He unscrewed the cap with deft fingers, then turned back to his fiancé and looked down at him with smoldering eyes. "Drink," he said simply, holding the bottle to Felix's lips for him. 

Felix moved through the shifting crowd with Sylvain's hand at his back as a rudder. When they stopped, Felix watched curiously as he took a bottle unscrewing the cap. Expecting him to down it, he was surprised when he turned to him holding the bottle to his lips expectantly.

If it needed to be said, when Sylvain looked at him like that, he would do anything he wanted. Eyes down at bottleneck, he shifted back to his favorite gaze, wrapping his lips around the glass. Unblinking, he downed large pulls from the bottle, the dark liquor burning all the way down.

Pulling away, he popped off the bottle and licked his lips, not wasting a single drop.

"Fuck, " Sylvain muttered, mesmerized by the way Felix's lips wrapped around the bottle, the way his throat bobbed when he drank, the way his tongue grazed over the glass...and then his lips. He realized he had no idea how much Felix usually drank at the same time he noticed that he'd just given his lover an extremely generous pour.

But he couldn't un-ring that bell, so instead Sylvain lifted the bottle to his own lips and took a long swig, tilting his head back to show off the long column of his neck. Then he leaned down and gaze Felix a messy, open-mouthed kiss, just because he could. Who would stop them?

Felix's eyes never left Sylvain. This fucking man... There wasn't anything he could do that made him look unattractive, huh? Felix looked with a possessive hunger as he saw Sylvain extend his long neck, the edge of purple just peeking out of his collar.

So when he came back down finding his lips, Felix met him with an equal fervor. Moving even closer, Felix grabbed the back of his head, holding Sylvain in place returning the sloppy kiss. Fuck anything else. He wanted nothing more than to taste the shitty whiskey on his tongue and if anyone wanted to look, they could get a goddamn eyeful.

"Goddamn. That stuff is shit."

"Mmhmm, but it tastes better on you," Sylvain breathed as he licked into Felix's mouth once before pulling back, disheveled and dark-eyed. He took a few small sips from the bottle and looked at it as if unsure what to do with it. Setting it down was inviting petty theft, but he also desperately wanted to put his hands over every inch of Felix's body.

He settled for something in-between, slinging his arms clumsily around the shorter man's neck with the bottle dangling down Felix's back. Then he gave him a tiny peck on the forehead and a lopsided smile.

"So, we don't know where the meat comes from and this sure as shit isn't Jack. I wonder what other mysteries might be out there for us to solve, Fe?"

That stupid crooked grin had no business being as endearing as it was, but again. That was just Sylvain. His arms heavy around Felix's shoulders felt right. That comfortable weight, pressing down on him.

"What other mysteries, huh? Like Scooby Doo?"

Felix tore his eyes from his fiancé and scanned the room. It was crowded with all sorts of people. Young cadets to grizzly veterans, botanists to the janitorial staff all at or on their way to different stages of drunkenness. He looked around and oddly enough, saw people looking back at them. At him. They looked perturbed...pissed about his presence, but when Felix made eye contact, they would suddenly look away.

This particular observation made Felix's lip twitch into a dissatisfied frown. He knew that look. It was one of envy. One of jealousy. One that said, 'you don't deserve him' and 'enjoy it while you can.' He didn't want to be reminded of that shit that might otherwise be true. But, what he and Sylvain had, it was special. It wasn't some, fleeting connection. What they had, whatever it was, it was real. It was the most real thing he had ever had in his life. So, they could look all they wanted. He hoped they were still looking.

Bottle at his back, Felix turned taking it and tilting his head back, again having the bottom shelf liquor burn all the way down. He gripped possessively at Sylvain's hips...probably trying to convince himself.

Sylvain knew that people were staring. People had always stared at him for one reason or another, from the time he was a gangly kid with an unruly mop of red hair. He was used to it. Felix wasn't.

But as he watched his fiancé down more liquor, Sylvain began to get the feeling that Felix was sort of enjoying the attention. The exaggerated way he drank, the way he boldly grabbed Sylvain and drew him closer had his heart beating wildly. Emboldened, Sylvain snatched the bottle back and took a long swig before winding the fingers of his free hand into Felix's hair.

"Mm, Fe, you know we're not alone, right?" he murmured in a voice that said he didn't mind at all.

The way he wove his fingers into his hair was one thing. His statement, or question, rather, was something else.

Felix's eyes darted around them. Yeah, sure as shit. There were many bodies, and now, many more pairs of eyes on them. Did...Sylvain not want to be seen? That couldn't be right. Everything from his looks to actions before they were ever a thing commanded attention. So...what about this was bad?

Was it him?

Even as the alcohol started relaxing him, Felix stiffened up; his hand didn't leave Sylvain's help, but his grip completely faltered.

"Yeah...I'm not blind."

Sylvain felt a twinge of pain at the uncertainty he was picking up from Felix. He wanted this--to show him off, to shout it from the rooftops until everyone agreed that he, Sylvain Gautier, was the luckiest man in existence. But he also felt protective of Felix. His trust was not given easily. He was private and shy and sensitive, even though he'd never admit it.

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay with it before I do this," Sylvain said as he slid a hand down to cup Felix's ass. Then, bending his knees and shuffling, he managed to hoist Felix into his arms so they were at roughly eye-level. The alcohol wasn't quite hitting Sylvain yet, but he knew it would soon and wanted to do this while he still had most of his balance. "Relax, Fe. I love you. I've got you."

Felix would blame the alcohol for the high-pitched squawk he let out when he was hoisted up with little issue. Up and eye level with Sylvain, he had to admit, for his bold moves and statements, he knew how to calm Felix.

Not sparing a second thought about those around them, Felix leaned into Sylvain, bonking the flat of their foreheads together. "I know you do." Now, for lack of a better term, on even-footing or rather seeing eye to eye, Felix left a series of three kisses that spanned both cheeks and his nose. "I love you back, Sylvain Jose. "

His fiancé's middle name ended in a lilt with the smirk that formed on his lips. "You planning to carry me everywhere or what?"

"I wouldn't mind that, actually," Sylvain answered, returning the three kisses and capping it off with a whispery press of his lips against Felix's cheek. "It's kinda funny, actually. I always thought you'd hate being picked up or carried around."

But he really liked it, liked the solid comforting weight of Felix's lithe, muscular body in his arms. He saw Dorothea waving them down from the other side of the room and Sylvain began to walk toward the group she was standing with, bracing Felix's thighs to keep them around his waist. 

"Hey Fe, you up for introducing me as the future Mr. Sylvain Fraldarius?" he asked with a lazy wink.

Felix let Sylvain's statement pass without comment. With Felix's prickly personality and standoffish nature, it made sense why he would think he would object to being held or otherwise. The truth was, Felix craved purposeful contact. People that were touchy-feely for the hell of it annoyed the hell out of him and he would completely turn from such actions. But to be held, especially in a manner that was meant to convey something deeper, Felix relished in it. As such, he wasn't going to chastise or correct the behavior.

He swayed further into Sylvain as they began moving towards an unseen destination just over his shoulder. At his next ask, Felix regarded Sylvain with a hesitant uncertainty, "You want me to... you as a Fraldarius? Here. Really. "

"Well, yeah, why not? We decided I was gonna take your name, remember?" he teased in an attempt to calm the little flutter of anxiety that was trying to bloom in his chest. "Unless you don't want to claim me?"

Well, fuck if Sylvain hadn't just taken the wind out of his own sails. He stopped walking and looked deep into Felix's eyes.

"Look, Fe, it's fine if you don't want to say anything yet... I'm fine with this being our little secret for a while, too. I don't want you to do anything that'll make you uncomfortable."

The deflated look that passed his face was a dagger straight through to his heart. Felix shook his head automatically and then immediately stopped because he didn't want Sylvain to think he was saying no that he didn't remember talking about him being a Fraldarius, or think he was saying 'no' to not claiming him and not 'no' to not saying anything. He wasn't opposed to not not saying anything. And oh for fuck's sake, he hadn't said literally any of this out loud.

Okay, so maybe some of the liquor was hitting his system.

At risk of throwing them both off balance, Felix quickly snatched the bottle from Sylvain. In one swift motion, he uncapped the bottle and instead of his lips, took his teeth to the bottle. With an inelegant snarl, Felix worked his teeth under the skinny o-ring, finally popping it off, triumphantly holding it between his teeth.

"'ere."

Felix dislodged himself from Sylvain. Fuck,  he should've eaten something substantial today...Taking a second to take account of the items held and what he wanted, Felix held out his palm, pointer finger and thumb extended, the other three folded holding the dark cap.

Looking up at Sylvain, he demanded, "-and. 'ow, 'ylvain .'

Sylvain looked at Felix in confusion for a moment--between the vague, muffled words and the alcohol swirling around in his own head, things weren't particularly making a lot of sense. Felix was...giving him a bottle cap. Well, not the actual cap, but that plastic ring from under the cap, its sides rough and scratchy.

Why was he...

Oh. Sylvain made a happy sound somewhere between a giggle and a yelp and extended his own hand.

"Yes, Fe? Is this for me?"

With a roll of his eyes, Felix in his infinite wisdom as provided by the knock-off Jack Daniels (he would deem 'Jackie D') responded a sardonic, "'-uh, 'ylvain."

Satisfied that a freckled hand had been extended and offered, Felix had already prepared for the next step...he capped that bottle so well. As the bottle cap fastened tight around the rungs of the bottle, in his palm, Felix felt where a small gap now existed. He released the jagged O-ring and tried to flatten the spiky edges as much as he could before meeting it with Sylvain's finger. And, to no one's surprise, it didn't fit. But Felix looked at the black plastic as it sat freely in between his knuckles like it had been designed for just that purpose.

Admiring his handiwork, Felix thrust the bottle back at Sylvain. "There." 

Sylvain felt his cheeks get hot and his pulse pick up. His vision swam slightly. It had been ages since he'd last gotten drunk--he actually had settled down quite a bit since he and Felix stopped hating each other--and he let the warm buzz settle around him like a heavy, familiar blanket.

He looked down at the ring, beaming, and then back up at Felix. Then his brow furrowed in concern. 

"Fe. I don't have one for you," he said, looking down at his fiancé with large, concerned eyes. "What are you gonna wear?"

“What am I going to wear?”

This was a completely unforeseeable issue. No amount of foresight could’ve prepared him for this most outrageous and surprising of obstacles. Life was certainly full of variables. And Felix was equally full of liquor.

Felix furrowed his brows, deep in concentration. He idly scratched at the back of his neck where his hair brushed, tickling his--that’s it!

He reached up, tugging with force at his ponytail, taking out the elastic band that held it properly in place. Once free, he wound it once, twice around his finger. He held out his hand, admiring the worn, stretched out tie.

“This can be mine.”

"Hmm."

Sylvain paused for a moment, studying their respective hands. The o-ring was a bit small on him, and Felix's fingers were smaller...lips pursed in concentration, he slipped the hair elastic from Felix's finger and replaced it with the o-ring, then wound the tie around his own ring finger instead.

"There," he said with a soft smile and a kiss. "Now I've got part of you, and you've got part of me. And the part of me gets to be the thing from the bottle since I'm the one who got you drunk. Oops."

The bottle felt much lighter in his hand as he tipped it back and drank, but he hardly noticed because he was focused on his next objective: snatching Felix's hand and holding it high above his head as he marched proudly into the crowd of people.

The faces more or less all looked the same to Sylvain, and he figured that was probably because he'd fucked most of them and his brain was no longer able to differentiate between them because the number was simply too high. But he beamed with pride at each and every one as he announced loudly, voice only a touch slurred:

"This is my Felix, everyone!"

Walking around the ring that was their base, hundreds of eyes drawn to Sylvain’s loud voice, Felix damn near looked around for his belt. He felt as if he was the champion of the ring, walking with his hand hoisted up in the air. Sylvain, at his side touting him as his Felix, scratchy, rough circle around his finger, he felt like a winner.

He bounced off the balls of his feet when they walked further along, face up to keep his elongated, stretched form. He looked up at Sylvain and smiled. He was still focused on his fiancé when they arrived at their destination.

Sylvain's foolish grin only widened as he spotted a pair of faces he did recognize, even though he didn't particularly like either of them: Dorothea and Dimitri, standing tall and statuesque and talking to each other in hushed tones.

"Thea! Dima!" he crowed. "So glad you guys could make it. We're getting married!" 

He crushed Felix to his side and kissed him soundly, moist lips grazing across his cheek as he drew back. Then he looked at Dorothea admiringly and sighed, "You're really pretty. But not as pretty as Felix. Can you help me look pretty for the wedding, too? For Felix?"

"Well, Sylvain, I don't know about Felix, but I certainly wouldn't kick you out of bed, even like...this." She arched a perfectly manicured brow, though she herself was beginning to sway drunkenly. "That said, I'm happy to help!" She reached out, giggling, to touch Felix's arm.

Thea and Dima.

Felix moved easily into Sylvain’s side when pulled. It seemed that anything Sylvain did, he reacted freely and easily. When next he kissed and spoke, it was no surprise that the blush that flooded his face came easily enough as well. He felt the gaze of their two respective co-pilots on him, pinning him on the spot.

Casting his gaze up, he caught Dimitri’s eyes with his own. There was no snarl, no anger or panic from earlier. But a nearly resigned neutral, bordering a sad smile as he raised his own bottle with a wink before drinking. Felix didn’t have time to dig into whatever look he wore as Dorothea’s hand reached out to his arm. He didn’t stop the delicate touch of her elegant hand as he chimed into the conversation he was definitely supposed to be a part of.

“You look plenty handsome already, Sylvain. You don’t need help like me.”

Dimitri let out an amused snort.

"Please, Felix. You’re quite the catch, physically and otherwise. Surely your fiancé has told you as much."

"Isn't he, though, Dima?" Sylvain slipped behind Felix and pressed his chest to the other's back, arms wrapped around his midsection. "I keep telling him that, but you know Fe." He snorted affectionately and kissed the top of Felix's head.

Before Felix could speak, as if no one else were present, Dimitri responded, looking directly at Felix.

"I do know him."

 

Chapter 23: Hall Passes

Summary:

“So I would get a hall pass as a handicap to my recent loss of virginity and you wouldn’t?”
"Yeah, Fe. I mean, it wouldn't fix or prevent everything, but at least then we'd know and get it out of the way before we make things official."

I don't want to give you my whole heart and have it shattered.

Chapter Text

Felix’s attention was then taken by the pressure at his back, wrapping at his midsection, and the touch that went up his arm. Before he knew it, there were two sets of hands in his hair…

“I…uh…I’m not used to wearing it down, but I like it fine I guess. You like it like that?” Felix shot Sylvain an uncertain glance over his shoulder.

Dimitri's words had not gone unnoticed, nor had the simmering glance he cast in Felix's direction. Sylvain nuzzled into him more insistently, sweeping his hair aside to kiss the sharp angle of his jaw. All the while, he kept his gaze on Dimitri in challenge.

"I always think you're handsome, Fe, but I especially like this. Makes me think untoward thoughts about you," he purred against Felix's cheek.

Felix leaned forward with the added insistent attention from Sylvain. His mouth, warm and soft against his skin coupled with heated words, did nothing to calm his… anything. He let out a whine that immediately caused him to flush in embarrassment which made him try to lean away, creating space between himself and Sylvain. 

“I’m glad, but this is enough…” He squirmed in Sylvain and Dorothea’s grasp and under Dimitri’s gaze, uncomfortable.

While Sylvain loved to see Felix blush and squirm under his attention, he also was not quite drunk enough to let his affection for the man override Felix's boundaries. He drew back with a small sigh, though he did flick his tongue across Felix's earlobe on his way. He prided himself for using only the tip of his tongue, for not lingering there forever. Or doing what he really wanted: marking up Felix's skin, which was quickly becoming Sylvain's new favorite hobby.

He kept his arms around Felix's waist as Dorothea drew back, noting with some amusement how she grazed her fingertips over his fiancé's cheek. Sylvain knew that the blankness of her mind during the Drift was due to immense willpower (not ignorance, as he'd incorrectly first assumed). And apparently, she had even more willpower than he did, because he didn't think he'd ever be able to stop touching Felix.

"Sorry, Fe," he purred. "But you do things to me, you know."

Felix's eyes again met Dimitri's apologetic look and quickly looked away from it when he shivered reflexively from the tongue at his earlobe; the hand at his cheek hardly registering at all in comparison to the litany of sensations.

He turned into the purring voice, specifying, "It's okay, you've mentioned it before. But I'm not doing anything....and when I have, it's in... relative private, Sylvain." 

Sylvain grinned sheepishly and pulled his head back, a child chastened. "Sorry," he murmured again, then pressed a firm kiss to Felix's cheek before returning to his original position with his chin resting atop his fiancé's head. 

Turning his attention back to Dimitri, he asked innocently, "You said you know Felix. How long have you guys known each other, anyway? Sounds like you go way back."

With his tone and a pause to his motions, Felix breathed a sigh of relief and easy contentment from what he had felt in the past few minutes. Yet, when Sylvain spoke next, it wasn't lost on Felix that he asked about him in front of him and not to him. Before he weighed in on what he felt about his approach, Felix listened to Dimitri's answer.

Seemingly cool, calm, and collected, Dimitri stared at him with crystalline eyes, taking a long pull of his drink before answering Sylvain.

“I did say that. And we do go way back.” Dimitri looked at Felix with a fondness he rarely displayed. “I've known Felix his whole life, at least until the last few years.”

At this, he met Felix's eyes, a challenge that he did not speak the truth. Felix said nothing to contradict him.

"Aww, baby Felix!" Sylvain chuckled, pulling the man in question even closer to his chest. His body was practically radiating heat--it always did, especially when he drank--but he also knew that Felix ran cold. And that he liked the closeness.

Sylvain pressed tiny kisses to Felix's crown, now intrigued. "When did you and Fe meet? Was he always a sourpuss like he is now?" He poked a gentle fingertip into Felix's cheek, grinning.

It was as if Sylvain was trying to completely subsume Felix as he was held closer and closer, tighter to his chest. Felix usually looked forward and loved the larger weight and stature that Sylvain lorded over him. But...for some reason, the feeling of comfort was suddenly becoming oppressive. Felix offered a hand to better deal with the onslaught that apparently was Sylvain.

Dimitri answered easily.

“We met years and years ago, back in the Kingdom's territory. I was but a child and Felix was even younger still back then." He paused to let out a melodic laugh at Sylvain’s question. "I wouldn't call him that, but he was always...serious. Especially around Glenn and I."

And there it was.

Felix went rigid, his wide eyes travelling to Dimitri's, begging for some sympathy.

Upon the mention of Glenn's name, Sylvain's frame stiffened around Felix's smaller one as if to protect him. Even through his drunken haze, his vision laser-focused on the blonde man as he stared him down coldly.

"Ah, so a while, then. Lucky that you two were able to meet again, huh?"

Sylvain's tone implied that there was nothing lucky about it. He didn't want to bother with Dimitri and whatever new brand of bullshit he was selling right now, so he turned his attention to Dorothea.

"So, 'Thea. Props for keeping up with fashion despite us all having to wear the same damn thing. What colors are we thinking?" He couldn't give a shit about colors or clothes or any of it, but he didn't have the energy--or sobriety--to properly deal with Dimitri right now.

Dimitri's gaze was met by one of near-understanding. The man was only good at speaking when he chose to be. But the rawness of Felix's own didn't do anything to  the distance he wished to re-establish.

Felix was trained to distinguish himself, to jettison any hint of his association to his past. Dimitri looked from Felix, to Sylvain, then back to Felix before answering.

"I don't quite take this as luck. Felix and I wanted to be pilots…” A moment of hesitation. "We wanted to be pilots like his brother and father, but that never happened…Until now.”

"I know about Glenn and Rodrigue, so you can spare me the dramatics, Dimitri," Sylvain said simply. He laced his fingers with Felix’s and cuddled into his partner as though he could serve as a shield for whatever psychic violence came his way.

Dorothea began prattling on about how fuchsia was in right now but they should avoid it because of Sylvain's hair, so maybe mustard yellow and dove grey? He couldn't hear her over the vicious roar inside his own head.

Dimitri wanted Felix. That was plain as day, and it was fine. Sylvain didn't feel the least bit threatened. But he was confused. Sylvain might have used seduction tactics that bordered on "strange" a time or two in the past, but intentionally hurting his intended target was something that came after, not as foreplay. What was Dimitri's game? His eyes narrowed as he gazed benignly at the other man.

“Dimitri now, is it? And I thought we had grown closer, Sylvain.”

Felix was trying and failing to listen to the joys and benefits of fuchsia, dove grey, and mustard yellow as at a minimum accent colors; he heard the sneer in his voice and was fucking tired of it all. 

"Can you two not?" Felix pleaded out to the man at his back and the one staring daggers at him.

At least here, Dimitri had the correct idea to at least look chastened.

Sylvain gave a savage little smile and leaned into whatever bullshit Dimitri was trying to throw his way. He cut his eyes sidelong at the blonde man as he rubbed his cheek affectionately into Felix's hair.

"Oh, Dima ? And just how close were you hoping we'd become?"

The way in which he spoke and his actions were completely off and it fucking bothered Felix to his core. Feeling his sweet actions and movements, coupled with pointed questions...it threw Felix. It threw Felix so much so that he met Sylvain's actions with a renewed discomfort, leaning further away.

“You seem to call me by a name few ever refer to me as. 'Dima' is a vestige of a long-gone era. How much would that take you to erase?”

Sylvain leaned with Felix, desperate for proximity, for comfort. Please don't leave me, he silently begged, hating himself for it all the while. Desperation wasn't a good look on him and he wore it like an ill-fitting suit of clothes.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to call you, then, to be honest," Sylvain admitted. From the very start, the vibes he'd gotten from Dimitri were, for lack of a better word, weird. And the weirdness was ramping up with each passing second. He drew small circles into Felix's sides with his fingertips, hoping to ground both of them.

There was no way he leaned that lessened their contact. It was like Sylvain had already planned and knew where his body would travel in its confused and uncomfortable state. While Felix didn't like that there was a legitimate disconnect between himself and Sylvain, there was no way he could deny it in that moment. The circles at his hips began to help and serve as some sort of a semblance of order that they could know what was going on.

Dimitri’s response to Sylvain was simple. 

“Maybe just leave that name for Fe to use, should he choose to.”

The absolute last thing Sylvain wanted to do was get into another stupid dick-swinging contest with Dimitri, who may or may not have been slightly more significant to Felix than he'd let on. But it didn't matter right now, so he offered a cavalier smile and a nod. 

"Sure thing, Dimitri." And he left it at that. 

He stepped out from behind Felix to place a hand lightly at his jaw. "Hey, you okay?" His voice dropped low and softened, speaking only to Felix this time. "We can go if you want to."

A simple nod was all he received in return from Dimitri, and it wasn't a moment too soon.

For one reason or another (and many in between), Felix found himself staring up at the concerned face of his lover and fiancé. Sylvain had removed himself from the idiotic whatever this was and had resurfaced with more than enough to trip on that, but it was at least nice to receive the secondary checks.

The hand at his jaw was a familiar pressure and the low voice he used, was one that Felix readily placed within their shared spaces.

"I'm sorry," Embarrassed, he looked down out of a fledgling shame. "That's not necessary. I just think I'm ruining this."

"What is this and how are you ruining it, Fe?" Sylvain asked gently, eyes never leaving his face. His heart sank a little; they'd been doing so well, and then that rat bastard from Felix's past had said one wrong thing and everything went off the fucking rails. Every single time Sylvain had tried to have a halfway-pleasant interaction with Dimitri, it had gotten fucked up in some way. And yet, there was no avoiding him--he was Felix's co-pilot for the foreseeable future, whether Sylvain liked it or not. He just had no idea what to do about the hideous awkwardness.

He took Felix's arm gently and turned them so their backs were to the others. "Talk to me. What's up?"

“This celebration, or whatever.”

Could they really afford all this as a group? For the first time, yes--they had worked infallibly in tandem. But what else? That didn’t mean they needed to celebrate or mark the occasion. If they did the job, that’s what mattered. This thing, this ancillary shit, Felix was just ruining it for those that enjoyed it.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” 

"We don't have to stay," Sylvain repeatedly lamely, though he knew full well that their surroundings weren't the issue. He felt an icy stab of dread at Felix's vague words and looked at him with wide, anxious eyes.

Not cut out for what? Celebrations? That was fine; the only real reason Sylvain ever partied was to get his dick wet and black out for a night, neither of which were necessary now that he had Felix. Being stuck with Dimitri? That was a helluva note, but there wasn't much they could do about it. Unless Felix meant...

"Cut out for what, Fe?" he asked, voice tight with fear.

And now he was ruining Sylvain’s time.

As of late, being in a successful jaeger mission was probably one of the easiest ways to slip into a celebratory mood. Unsurprisingly enough for Felix, that’s exactly where he ran into issues.

He gestured vaguely, “ This. I don’t know how to just be . I’m making shit awkward and worse that it has to be.” Crestfallen, he added, “Sorry. I don’t mean to be” me “so fucking weird.”

"Fe, what you're trying to tell me is...you're not good at having fun ?" Sylvain broke off into a fond laugh. It tracked so well; his Felix, always so serious, wasn't even sure how to enjoy a celebration without getting anxious. It was hopelessly endearing. "Listen, everybody's acting a little weird because our world is a lot weird right now. Thank you for being with me through the weird and letting me be with you."

He caught Felix's gesturing hand and pressed a small kiss to his knuckles.

Raising a brow, Felix droned, “I apologize. Didn’t realize I was so good at hiding it.”

Of course he wasn’t good at having fun. Literally nothing about his dour, moody, unapproachable self suggested otherwise, a lot weird situation notwithstanding. But having Sylvain understand where he was coming from and meeting him only with patience, barring any ridicule for something so basic, was a very welcome experience. Felix’s features relaxed as he brushed his knuckles fondly against Sylvain’s face. 

“That’s what partners are for. Getting through the weird shit.”

"And the good shit, too, Fe," Sylvain reminded him gently. "Not just getting through the bad... actually living. Together." 

He paused for a moment and leaned into the touch, lashes fluttering. Felix was grumpy and taciturn and Sylvain loved him dearly for it. It was a welcome change of pace from all the fawning and useless faux-optimism.

"Hey, Fe?" he added softly. "Thanks for not being afraid of the dark. My dark."

“The good shit, too,” Felix repeated with a nod. He looked up at Sylvain, vision swimming slightly and filled with a warmth not entirely due to the alcohol. “Day or night, makes no difference. Your dark and your light are still parts of you.” And that was the truth, whether he admitted it or not. He met Sylvain’s gaze with a defiant look. “You don’t scare me.”

He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and to him, it was. “I love your dark as much as your light.”

You don't scare me.

Sylvain knew that at one point in the not too distant past, Felix's words would have been a horrific lie. But now, perhaps because of the blood currently swimming through his alcohol system or perhaps because of the vulnerable sincerity in Felix's eyes, Sylvain believed him.

"We're just like two puzzle pieces who didn't quite fit the set they came in, and yet..." He smiled fondly and drew Felix in for a chaste, lingering kiss.

Leaning against his touch, Felix arched his back into Sylvain’s hold. Yeah, they really were misplaced and mismatched. And…somehow, no matter how different and how unrelated the two of them were in relation to anything else in their lives, they fit. Together.

Felix separated only slightly and still sharing the same breath as if they were two parts of one whole. He spoke quietly, soft whispers ghosting his lips, never meant to be heard by any others.

“…and yet, we complete each other.”

Sylvain dipped his head lower to hear Felix, his own words whispered into his fiancé's ear.

"See, Fe? Told you they don't make mistakes when they pair pilots."

He straightened up with a grin and cupped Felix's jaw with a tender hand. "So, I hear there's a lot of stuff couples are supposed to discuss before they get married...anything come to mind?"

Then why are you not my co-pilot? Why am I not yours?

The rebuttal came immediately, but Felix let it pass without mention. It was a fruitless discussion and there was something larger at hand.

The hand to his jaw pulled him upright, at a comfortable attention. But his words...Felix looked at Sylvain, confused.

“I don’t know if I understand. Do you mean bank accounts or filing taxes or something?”

Sylvain had the awful feeling that he'd somehow jammed his foot not only into his mouth, but halfway down his throat as well. He offered a warm, reassuring smile before continuing. 

"Yeah, finances, whether we want kids, where we're gonna live...not that those things really apply. So I guess the biggest one is, what are we okay with in terms of, you know, interacting with other people?"

Sylvain paused for a moment to study Felix's facial expression before continuing. "Like, I know I flirt. A lot. It's just...kinda the way I learned to communicate, you know? Anyway, I'll do my best to tone it down if you want. And also, like, hall passes. If they're a thing for us?"

He knew he was rambling but could not stop himself.

Felix’s face showed every passing emotion as Sylvain rambled on.

First, his eyes grew positively owlish at the mention of children and the idea of moving and living together. He supposed the questions made sense to ask, but unsurprisingly, they had never occurred to Felix nor the need to ask them.

Second, he looked positively unimpressed when Sylvain unnecessarily explained that he flirted. Sky’s blue. Lorenz Hellman Gloucester looked like a fucking thumb. And as sure as the sun will rise, Sylvain flirted.

Third, Felix cocked his head to the side in confusion. This one actually prompted a response. Or, more accurately, clarification.

“What’s a hall pass? Why would we need one within the base?”

Sylvain suppressed a chuckle as he felt his stomach drop. He knew Felix had been a virgin, but he had no idea how little he knew... fuck. How to explain this without making it worse than it already sounded, especially since Felix had found the goddamn sex resume ? He didn't know, so he ran at the mouth as always.

"So, uh, I've...known some people who want what's informally known as a 'hall pass.' Basically, it's, like, you can pick one person and, uh...but I don't want that! I'm just saying, it's okay if you do. I know you've only had me, so it's okay to be curious. You can still look at the menu."

Felix looked on with uncertain amusement as Sylvain…squirmed.

It was odd to see the confident Sylvain, the one who exuded confidence and bravado, stumbling through his words and hesitating every step of the way.

But as he spoke, Felix’s amusement ceased in a pretty big way as it dawned on him what he was talking about. He crossed his arms, watching Sylvain. “So you’re asking out of the kindness of your heart, if there’s someone else I want to fuck or get fucked by because I was a virgin and haven’t had anyone but you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I get that right?”

"I'm asking because I... I don't want you to start regretting anything or being unhappy, Fe, that's all. Wondering if you missed out."

I'm terrified you'll leave me for someone better.

"Also, I seem to remember you saying you didn't have anyone to compare me to," Sylvain added, masking the insecurity with a smile and a wink. "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't be a little jealous, but I trust you. I'm a big boy, I can handle it. And besides...maybe you could report back? Give me some ideas, maybe."

The words that were coming out of his mouth right now… Felix took a moment to properly categorize and how best to respond. As Sylvain’s words hit him, he needed the extra moment to regroup with the numerous emotions that rose within him.

Felix spoke in an exacting tone, ensuring he was understanding and perceiving this correctly. “And you think…me regretting anything or being unhappy is going to be solved by having sex someone else?”

Beyond the uniqueness of the proposition, it felt like a one sided deal. Felix looked at Sylvain confused. “So I would get a hall pass as a handicap to my recent loss of virginity and you wouldn’t?”

"Yeah, Fe. I mean, it wouldn't fix or prevent everything, but at least then we'd know and get it out of the way before we make things official."

I don't want to give you my whole heart and have it shattered.

Felix's final question took him off-guard and Sylvain looked at him with wide eyes.

"I mean, you know my reputation. And I know you're not nearly as casual as I am...well, used to be, about sex, so I don't want to make you think you're not special." 

The more Sylvain spoke, the more Felix questioned. He turned, scrunching his nose in distaste.

“Before we make things official ? What, you want me to fuck someone else so we can christen the relationship before you and I can be validated because I haven’t gotten enough ass?”

He wasn’t enough as he was.

Embarrassment, uncertainty, foolishness, doubt. All these and more could be found in a swirling morass that was Felix’s head right now. Anger was one of the many emotions that rose within Felix. And it now was becoming the most prevalent, and fast.

“Oh in that case. If I get one, you should definitely have one. I wouldn’t want to be hogging all of the special treatment. It shouldn’t matter if it’s before things are official anyways, right?”

To say this wasn't going to plan would have been a massive fucking understatement. Sylvain took a breath to steady himself and gather his thoughts.

"Fe. It was just an idea. We don't have to do it. I don't need to do it. I don't want one for myself. And...it's different when it's with someone you love." Sylvain's voice and gaze dropped with the last sentence. He felt weak and pathetic and was certainly going to lay into himself later for even bringing it up.

There wasn’t much higher processing going on in the instant that Felix snapped back.

“I don’t want one either! I never even hinted at that. But for some reason, you seem to think that I need one for God knows what fucking reason.”

The flush that rose to his cheeks flared deeper in embarrassment at what Sylvain said next. “Oh, but you said why I should, didn’t you? So I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything and so that I will be happy."

His voice was strained. “I had no idea I was letting on how terribly unhappy I’ve been this entire time and how many times I’ve complained about not fucking anyone else.”

Frustration, anger, hurt. Tears began to well in his eyes.

Sylvain wanted to comfort Felix, to reassure him, but even he had his limits. Especially when Felix's beloved "Jackie D" was involved.

"What about Dima ?" he spat, knowing full well it was a blow so low that it was probably six feet under. Which was precisely where Sylvain wished he was in that moment. "Don't act like you haven't noticed the way he eye-fucks you every time he's around. And I know you two have some unfinished business from your blast from the past."

Sylvain’s words were drenched with venom. Felix’s eyes flashed when Dima was mentioned.

“You want us to fuck, don’t you?” A terrible, twisted realization sank in on Felix. “You’ve been obsessed with him and me so now, you want something to be true so you have something you can actually point to to be pissed off and jealous over.”

Sylvain drew back abruptly, eyes blazing with anger and face burning with shame.

"I want to know for absolutely certain that you're over him. That you'll...that you'll be able to fuck him and still come back to me." 

The old familiar panic was beginning to set in and Sylvain's legs ached with the urge to run somewhere, anywhere. But he also knew that doing so would colossally fuck things up--well, even worse than they already were.

The anger he felt had reached a boiling point, he didn’t rant or rave or scream. No, when Felix got angry, truly angry , he got quiet. His eyes were nothing more than slits as he lowered his tone. 

“I don’t need to prove shit to you. Especially from some backwards reasoning. I’ve done nothing for you to fucking doubt me.” The thought of Sylvain wanting Felix to share himself with someone else when Sylvain didn’t want it for himself was nauseating. “How dare you put that on me.”

Felix was right: He didn't need to prove shit to Sylvain.

"I know you don't, Fe," he said quietly. "I guess I'm more pissed about how Dimitri's been ever since we got together. I just...want him to leave us the fuck alone. To let us be happy. I don't know, I thought maybe if you guys had closure or something, we could have that."

“Then you fuck him.”

In an instant, Felix turned on his heel and weaved through the crowd not sparing a single glance back.

Tears stung his eyes as he put his head down, not meeting anyone’s gaze or congratulations.

Sylvain made no move to follow Felix. He stood there in silence for a moment, contemplating his series of increasingly bad choices. Then he grabbed the nearly-empty bottle he'd set down on the ground beside them, slugged what was left, and made his way over to where Dorothea stood.

"'Thea," he purred. "You and me. Come on." He grabbed her hand and not-quite-dragged her back to his room (only because she was so fucking eager that it hurt).

He made sure to slam the door extra hard, push her down onto the bed more forcefully than necessary. And if he thought of Felix all the while? Didn't matter. 

*

Crying, Felix moved through the masses of people enjoying the celebration. There were already revelers sneaking off to corners and rooms to christen whatever it was…

The last half hour had snowballed and Felix had become the worst of the worst. He had messed up spectacularly. He had incensed Sylvain when cooler heads should’ve prevailed, yet Felix chose the comfort of his anger rather than the discomfort of proper communication. 

Felix’s feet carried him in a wide path at the perimeter of the base. He knew he had to apologize. He knew he had to make it better. Sylvain was likely only trying to help, even though Felix didn’t see it that way . But there were many things that he didn’t know and Sylvain had only ever been patient and understanding, moving at the speed he set. As these thoughts flowed, his anger began to wane. With his anger subsiding, he could gather his ideas and present them to his one and only fiancé in a manner in which anger and hurt feelings didn’t rule.

When he returned to the residential wing, instead of going into his room, he slunk against the wall, opposite of their neighboring quarters. He’d be better served waiting out here to catch Sylvain before he retired for the night. Felix didn’t want either of them to spend the night angry at each other.

Against the wall in the hallway, Felix was uncomfortably aware of a woman’s voice as well as dull clangs were heard. Apparently, many things needed to be christened today. Felix played idly with his o-ring, etching small red lines into the soft skin of his fingers. It was a part of him that was given freely to Felix, no matter what.

The least Felix could do was apologize.

*

Sylvain gripped the iron headboard nearly as hard as he was squeezing his eyes shut as he pounded into Dorothea. His knuckles were crushed between the wall and the bed with each careless thrust, and he welcomed the pain. He deserved it.

Old habits die hard.

Dorothea was, admittedly, as good in bed as one would assume just from looking at her. But it was hollow, unsatisfying. He pulled out at the last possible second, orgasm barely registering even as he cried Felix's name.

From somewhere far, far beneath him, Dorothea screamed his name. Then, in response--whether to clarify to Sylvain or to anyone who might be listening--she added, "Dorothea. Not Felix."

Sylvain envied the dead. 

*

"Felix!"

The sound of his own name made his head perk up from between his hands. What was this? Even the walls of metal couldn’t disguise the sound of Sylvain to Felix. Was he okay? Did he need help? Felix’s pulse began to pick up.

One word and he would jump.

One word and he would be there for him.

One word…

"Sylvain!"

All color drained from his face as Felix stared at the door.

Chapter 24: Apologies on Autopilot

Summary:

"Who do you think I was thinking about the entire time? Actually...that probably makes it worse, doesn't it? That I was thinking about you? God, I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop hurting you."

Chapter Text

Sylvain practically threw himself off of Dorothea and managed to make it to the wastebasket before emptying the entire contents of his stomach (which was mostly liquid). Without looking back, he gathered Dorothea's clothes and heaved them at her over his shoulder.

He'd only bothered to take off his pants, so getting dressed was easy enough even with his wooziness. He stumbled to the door, threw it open, and immediately collapsed onto Felix.

"Fe."

The disheveled mess that collapsed into him was surprising. The acrid smell of bile mixed with heady vanilla and florals assaulted his nose as he stood, stunned and speechless.

Felix wanted to be anywhere but here. On autopilot, his hands went to Sylvain.

“Sylvain.”

There was no question or affect.

Sylvain gathered Felix to his chest tightly, dipping his head to bury his face in his neck.

"I fucked up so bad, Fe," he whimpered, eyes welling with tears. "I don't know how to fix it. What do I do?"

Felix let himself be pulled, not out of any sort of enjoyment or desire to be close. He simply just was. When he spoke, it was as if his voice came from miles away. 

“I don’t know, but you need to get off me.”

Sylvain immediately dropped his arms and stepped back with a helpless, hollow expression on his face. His face was wet with silent tears as he stood there in shock, though he knew he shouldn't be shocked at all.

"Fe," he said again, weakly this time.

After a moment, Dorothea emerged from Sylvain's room fully clothed and not the least bit disheveled. She looked at Felix with soft, horribly sympathetic eyes and touched his shoulder lightly.

"I'm so sorry, Felix." And then she was gone.

The touch to his shoulder barely registered, his eyes never leaving Sylvain’s tearful gaze.

Felix’s mind was blank. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to beat the absolute shit out of Sylvain, and all at once, he wanted to be held. But he couldn’t do or have any of that. He couldn’t do much of anything in the moment. He stood back silently, staring.

Sylvain had no idea what to do. He'd passed the "freak the fuck out" phase a long time ago, probably during his fight with Felix earlier. Now, he was just numb. He desperately wanted to hide in his room, to crawl under the covers, but the thought of wrapping himself in the cloying scent of Dorothea's perfume made him nauseous.

He sank down with his back to the wall, knees steepled, and dropped his head. Christ, what a mess. He wanted to say something to Felix, but thanks to his sudden flash of sobriety he realized that saying anything, period, would be a terrible idea.

Sylvain looked sad and Felix hated it. And in the moment, he wished he hated Sylvain.

Felix spoke numbly.

“I see you didn’t stay out too much longer after I left.”

"Yeah," Sylvain sighed. "In a series of increasingly poor decisions... that. " He gestured helplessly in the air, still not meeting Felix's gaze. "The 'fucking idiot' part of my brain--which is all of it, to be fair--was in the driver's seat. I kept thinking about what you said, and I..." There were no words. How could there be? 

Felix looked down on Sylvain as he slid against the wall, answering in a monotone.

“I don’t care.”

That was a boldfaced lie. He did. He cared too goddamn much. And he was grateful for whatever shock and numbness came over him in this moment. Felix couldn’t focus on the pain that he felt because it would overtake him in an instant.

"I know why I did that, Fe." Sylvain barked quiet, bitter laughter. "It's because this is what I do. I fuck things up compulsively and that's okay. I don't fucking deserve nice things. I'm a trainwreck and Dimitri was right: you could do better than me. So much better."

Felix ignored the bitter laughter and commented mildly, "Nothing is ever deserved. You and Dima can qualify it however you need. I only wanted you.”

"Who do you think I was thinking about the entire time? Actually...that probably makes it worse, doesn't it? That I was thinking about you? God, I don't know what I'm saying. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop hurting you."

Sylvain looked up when he heard the unnervingly even tone of Felix's voice. The utter calm made him feel worse than the earlier anger, and he forced himself to accept the very real possibility that there was no way to recover from this.

A wave of nausea washed over him as Sylvain shared his frame of mind. Knowing that he was on Sylvain’s mind while he was with someone else filled Felix with revulsion. 

“I wasn’t concerned with that and that hasn’t changed. It wasn’t with me, it’s none of my business.” He paused for a moment. “The last part can be solved easily enough.”

Felix took the o-ring off his finger and tossed it on the ground.

Sylvain nearly threw up again on the spot, head spinning, mind reeling as he tried to process the absolute hellscape his life had become in the matter of only a few hours. They'd been so close. Sylvain had tasted happiness for one shining moment, and then he'd ruined it because of course he had.

He looked up at Felix with wide eyes full of pain before slowly picking himself up off the ground. He moved on autopilot toward his room, Miklan's voice ringing in his head the whole time, even as he stripped the sullied sheets from the bed and tossed them into a heap in the hallway. 

The click of his door closing felt like a death sentence and as Sylvain silently cried himself to sleep on the floor, he thought about his brother.


You deserve this, Sylvie.

Chapter 25: Apologies and Apathy

Summary:

"Anything is better than the apathy, Fe. Please."

Chapter Text

When Sylvain rose and went into his room, Felix had every intention of going into his own. Intent notwithstanding, he didn’t return the few steps it would have taken.

Instead, his feet carried him to the jaeger hanger, to Adder. Once near the big crimson and teal girl, Felix began to move quickly and with purpose. Once in the cockpit, Felix intoned with a shaky voice, “Mia. Power save.” The cabin lights went low, a calming blue light emanating from the instruments within the jaeger.

Felix went to the back of the left hemisphere where he crouched in the corner and cried until he finally passed out from exhaustion.

*

When Sylvain woke after maybe an hour, he had no idea what to do with himself. He was no longer drunk and needed to figure out a way to prolong the numbness...or at least, distract himself from the inevitable onset of pain.

His feet carried him to the hangar, as always. At this time of night, most of the crew was asleep and in light of the festivities, there were even fewer people there than usual. Sylvain approached Adder and wrapped his arms across her hull for a long moment before entering the cockpit and stepping inside.

The overhead lights didn't immediately flicker on and he got the eerie feeling that he wasn't alone. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the dark was, he became aware of a lean figure hunched in the corner.

"Fe?" he whispered hoarsely. "Is that you?"

Felix hadn’t necessarily meant to fall asleep in Adder and even then, it was a fitful sleep at best. 

When Felix heard the hoarse whisper, he groaned out in frustration, exhaustion, or surprise, or some combination of everything. His voice was raw and heavy, clearly emblematic of emotional distress.

Ugh…no. I wish it wasn’t. I’ll get out of here.”

"I..."

Sylvain hesitated for a long while, the sound of his breath the only indication of his presence. He had no right to ask anything of Felix. But Sylvain was selfish. Always had been, always would be.

"Stay. Please? You don't have to come near me or say anything. I just..."

I can't be alone right now because I hate myself too much, Fe.

Felix watched him in silence from across the cockpit. The way he looked right now was enough to sever any last attempt to hold himself together.

It was a selfish request that he owed no duty to fulfill or entertain, Felix recognized, but there was something there. Against every higher, logical impulse he had, he nodded, curling in on himself against the cold metal wall.

Sylvain sat up watching Felix, small and silhouetted in the scant light. He longed to go to him, to bundle him up in his arms and apologize over and over again, as many times as it took.

But he didn't, because he was a fucking coward.

"Love you, Fe," he whispered to no one in particular. Then he fell silent, staring off into space.

“Don’t,” Felix whispered back. Sylvain’s soft voice sounded as if it would break at any moment and Felix’s fragility was right there with it. Hanging his head, he shook slightly. “Don’t say that.”

"Why, Fe?"

Sylvain didn't bother asking any of the questions on his mind--what changed, how had this happened so fast. He knew. But he couldn't help but wonder if Felix's heart had actually hardened toward him so quickly, or whether there was some hope that he could repair things.

“I don’t want to be lied to.”

Felix’s voice was small and wounded. Of course he loved Sylvain and hearing him say it right now, it sent a pitiful pulse of hope through his system. What Felix didn’t need was false hope.

He continued, voice scratchy from overuse, “There’s no reason to say that.”

The words cut Sylvain to the core, but not nearly as much as the way Felix's voice sounded when he said them. Resigned. Exhausted. Abandoned.

He shivered and pulled his knees close to his chest, trying to push away memories that were trying to resurface. Focus, Sylvain, he chided himself, as though he were in the Drift.

"Fe, what makes you say it's a lie?" His own voice was thin and quavering.

What the hell kind of question was this? After telling him to fuck someone, Sylvain chose to fuck someone else entirely. Felix let out a series of bubbling laughs, the last of which turned into choked sobs.

“What makes me say that,” he repeated incredulously. He put his head down, folded between his knees and chest. “Context clues, Sylvain.”

For once, Sylvain was actually pissed that his reputation didn't precede him. He remained seated, digging his fingers savagely into his kneecaps until his knuckles turned white.

"You know what I am, Fe," he spat, hating himself. "That I fuck without feelings and destroy people because I'm no good. Maybe Dimitri was right," he said again, more to himself than anyone else. He wasn't sure whether to clarify that Felix was the only person he'd had feelings for, period, ever. There was the possibility that it would do more harm than good, and it was selfish to say it...which was why Sylvain said it. "You're my person, Fe. you're...the only person I've ever even remotely cared about. The only person I've ever loved. "

Sylvain’s raised voice and brusque tone put Felix on edge. Each dig at himself angered Felix more and more. What need did Felix have to deprecate and admonish Sylvain when the man did it best to himself?

It wasn’t until Sylvain turned to speak about Felix that he snapped back with anger.

“ Then why did you still end up treating me the goddamn same?!"

"Guess I just don't deserve nice things," Sylvain said simply. He didn't bother throwing Felix's own words back at him, how he'd explicitly told Sylvain he wanted him to have a stupid fucking "hall pass."

And the worst part, Sylvain realized with a miserable sinking feeling, was that he'd known the entire time that Felix was bluffing, that his do it had really meant I love you, please don't hurt me. He curled in tighter on himself, wracked with guilt.

How apt they were in Adder at this very moment. Like her flames when directed by Sylvain, Felix’s anger went from red, blue, to white.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not some fucking commodity. I’m me and my goddamn say matters. No one is deserving of someone else or whatever bullshit you’re spouting. If I wanted to be with you and you wanted to be with me, that should’ve been enough!”

So, they were in agreement: Sylvain didn't deserve nice things, because no one did. He wasn't sure if what Felix had said made him feel better or worse.

"I want it to be enough. It...it is enough for me, Fe. But I fucked up, and I understand if..."

Sylvain drew a breath and fell silent. Anything he could say right now would only make things worse.

Felix shifted, shaking his head. “No, you made it abundantly clear you wanted someone else.”

But in the end, what he had worried himself over, what he had nearly convinced himself of was proven. 

“It obviously wasn’t. wasn’t enough.”

If it were possible, Felix had drawn further into himself and perhaps that was the issue. He had overextended. There was no way he was ever going to be enough for anyone, much less Sylvain. For as much of a reputation as Sylvain had, Felix had one of his own that he never should have deviated from. This would be less of a change and more of a return to form, he reminded himself. He just wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did.

In the oppressive silence that descended, Sylvain took a moment to figure out where, exactly, things had gone so horribly wrong. He couldn't discount the fact that they'd seemed mismatched from the very start...but they'd moved past that, figured it out. They'd seen each other's ghosts. They'd killed a nearly-cat-fucking-four kaiju together, seamlessly.

Then they'd gotten reassigned, and really, wasn't that the problem? But Sylvain buried that one, and he buried it deep.

"I didn't fuck Dorothea because I wanted her, Fe. I did it because I was shitfaced and hurting and I wanted to hurt you back. And that's also really fucked up. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I love you." 

And there it was.

Felix didn't know when he had started crying again, but silent tears ran down his cheeks freely.

"Goal accomplished then you win. You hurt me." He took shaky breaths in an attempt to settle himself when a realization occurred to him. "Though, I guess I asked for it, didn't I?" He let a bitter laugh out when flashes of memories played out, leading with his own preeminent line: Hurt me.

This was going nowhere. And why should it? He shouldn't even be here. Nothing of the jaeger or the man inside it were his. Bracing himself against the wall, he stood up, legs sore from the scrunched position as he began to walk towards the exit.

Knowing good and goddamn well that it was a terrible idea, Sylvain stood and moved into Felix's path before he could leave Adder. One more thing. There was one more thing he could try and if that failed, then he was fully prepared to resign himself to whatever lonely, miserable fate awaited him.

"I want you to hurt me back," he said softly, hands braced on either side of Felix's biceps. "However you see fit. I don't know how else to make it equal, make it right. So, I don't know, punch me, choke me out, get me fired, I don't care, just..."

Anything is better than the apathy, Fe. Please.

Felix hated the sick happiness he felt when Sylvain stood and moved in front of him. The pitiful hope that refused to extinguish itself withered and waned in his chest as Sylvain pleaded with him, cries of equity.

Felix stood still, watching the man above him with red, puffy eyes. He spoke quietly and resigned. "You know that hurting you back isn't going to make it equal or right." There was an emotion Felix couldn't place when he continued. "Knowing that, do you still want me to hurt you?"

Did he? Sylvain wasn't sure. He reached out with a trembling hand and a helpless expression, longing to bundle Felix protectively to his chest, wipe his tears away, make him forget every hurt. His hand lingered in the air for a moment before he dropped it to his side, self-conscious.

"I deserve this," he said quietly. "It's okay, Fe. Whatever you need."

Felix watched Sylvain's hand rise and fall without further interaction. If they were to hurt each other, this would be enough to hurt them both for the last time.

He looked up at Sylvain's worn face, knowing it must mirror his own. With no question in his voice, he spoke softly, "Your room."

Sylvain did say however he saw fit.

Chapter 26: This is Goodbye.

Summary:

This wasn’t about love or adoration or even about being partners. This was goodbye.

Chapter Text

Generally, your room was second only to fuck me in terms of two-word pairs Sylvain liked to hear from Felix. But this time, there was no excitement, no desire. Nothing at all but numb resignation with an undercurrent of icy dread.

He nodded mechanically and led Felix back to his room. The sheets he'd stripped from the bed and thrown into the hallway earlier were gone, mercifully, but the sight of a bare mattress was even weirder. Sylvain closed the door behind them and turned to face Felix, remaining silent.

When Sylvain turned to him, Felix walked forward silently, stopping at the nightstand to get their oft-used lube. 

Felix knelt before Sylvain and with exacting hands, he made quick work of his pants and underwear. Unhurried, he ran his lips and hands over Sylvain's strong thighs, cupping his balls, willing his flaccid member to life. Usually a responsive partner, Felix regulated his breathing, not making a sound. If this was to be their last time, he would only be focused on committing every detail to memory.

He would allow them both the sweetest pain he could think of. He would give them the closure he thought Sylvain must have been referring to in regard to Dimitri. And this was it.

Sylvain's eyes went wide at the same time his knees threatened to buckle and all the air left his lungs. What he'd expected-- hoped for--was actual violence of some kind, because no matter how awful they were to each other, no matter what terrible things they said or did, they always, always put each other back together at the end.

But Felix was doing it backward. Sylvain's eyes stung with tears even as he let out his first quiet moan of pleasure. He slid his fingers through Felix's hair, trying to impart all the tenderness in the world into the gesture, to tell Felix how much he loved him without using words.

It was likely a mistake, Felix knew when he leaned into the hands at his hair. But even so, this would just be another thing that he would have to remember--the weight of Sylvain's large hands, the dull scrape of his short nails. It was an entire experience that was only Sylvain. He'd get it this last time and let the physical sensations linger.

Felix's mouth ghosted along his stiffening member as he licked broad stripes from root to tip. Removing his hands for the moment, he applied lubrication to his digits that found their way back to Sylvain's entrance, circling the area. Felix rededicated himself to the prize in front of him, focusing on the weight on his tongue.

In between gasps and sputters and whimpers, another horrible realization dawned on Sylvain. The expert way Felix was working him over--every stroke of his tongue, his fingers, even his presence --reminded Sylvain of a student showing his teacher what he'd learned before graduating to greener pastures.

"Hah." A bitter, choked laugh forced its way out of his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to look down, to see Felix--no longer his, not anymore. He didn't trust himself. But he was unable to stop the sounds pouring from his lips: Felix, yeah, like that. Fe. Fe. My Fe.

As it always did, Sylvain’s voice and calls to him spurred Felix on. The sweet possessiveness that he had come to crave seeped into his mind as he looked up to…see his eyes were shut, not looking at him.

Why Felix thought he should still be looking down at him as if he was something special was complete and utter folly. He initiated this and even Sylvain knew what this was. So easily had Felix slipped into old habits. This wasn’t about love or adoration or even about being partners. This was goodbye.

Taking more of him into his mouth, Felix worked his finger into Sylvain’s ring of muscle. He curled his finger, stretching out Sylvain for their final act.

Sylvain wanted to keep his eyes closed, to numb himself the way he had earlier with Dorothea. But he was helpless to resist Felix's thrall. With the invasion of a single slender digit curled just the way Felix knew he liked, Sylvain's eyes shot open again and he looked down to see those soft lips stretched around his cock, dark wet lashes fanned out over flushed cheeks. Felix, looking just like he had their first time, and every other time after that.

Sylvain tightened his grip on Felix's hair and tipped the other man's head up, looking down at him with watery, overwhelmed eyes.

When Sylvain pulled his hair, tipping his head up, Felix’s cock strained against his pants. Looking up, his eyes met Sylvain’s like normal, they looked as they always did, and this would be for the last time. Except, the gaze that met his own was watery and despondent. Felix furrowed his brows in concentration, willing away the stab he felt to his heart.

Only knuckles deep, Felix couldn’t prolong this much more. Sylvain was going to have to deal with the stretch because Felix couldn’t bear the pain that was welling up within him. He removed his finger and released Sylvain’s cock before standing and removing his pants.

“Bed.” 

Sylvain whined at the loss of contact out of instinct, a sound that never failed to make Felix bend to his will...and indicate trust. Now, there was no trust left, not even echoes. And Sylvain had only himself to blame.

He lay upon the bed obediently, propping his head up with one arm. Even though he felt guilty for enjoying what was supposed to be his punishment, Sylvain couldn't stop himself from watching Felix as he undressed and approached the bed.

"Fe," he whispered again, fighting against the bittersweet warmth spreading through his chest.

As he moved, Felix felt eyes on him. Hungry, appraising eyes that once looked on him with love. 

"Sylvain."

He would allow nothing further. Similar to how he felt, his voice was on the verge of breaking.

Crawling up on the bed, or bare mattress rather, was only another aid in differentiating this encounter as their last. The texture was rough on his knees as he positioned himself between Sylvain's legs. Selfishly, he reached forward pulling his shirt up and over his head. He let his eyes scan the absolute canvas that was Sylvain bared beneath him. Seeing him like this, Felix wanted to devour him; like this, Felix wanted to spend hours praising him, lavishing attention to the man he called his own, and he wanted the same. But again, these weren't needs . He felt his eyes well up and his throat tighten. He needed to finish this.

Felix tore his attention from Sylvain just enough to coat his cock. Lining himself up with Sylvain's entrance he pressed in firmly, each inch hard fought with a hiss of air through his teeth.

Time slowed and everything became amplified by a thousand as Felix began to slowly press into him. Sylvain's back arched and he hissed as his senses came alive: the scratch of the bare mattress against his skin, the quiet rasp of Felix's breathing above him, the dull pressure that was swiftly blooming into pleasure.

He whimpered once, helplessly, and brought his hands to rest on Felix's hips. This was probably a mistake; he was supposed to be trying to let go, not cling, because clinging would only make the inevitable end worse. And it was already going to be so much worse than anything Sylvain had ever experienced; of this, he was already certain.

"My Fe," he whispered again as though to reassure himself, then hooked his legs around the other man's waist and pulled him close. Sylvain's lashes were wet now, breath coming in short little gasps as he held on tightly to Felix.

The legs that wrapped around him and pulled him in came as a surprise. Out of sheer desire and a desire to now get this over with, Felix dug his hands into the mattress as he moved his hips in earnest, earning more and more delicious sounds beneath him.

It took a herculean effort to break the habit of not responding back with 'yours' or some other affirmation. That was no longer the case.

With each thrust, with each obscene slap of skin, with each squeeze of the once possessive hand at his hip, he was losing himself. And now, he was at risk to lose himself again in Sylvain. Felix moaned and grunted with each move.

This was a bad idea. This was a mistake. His idea to hurt the both of them in one fell swoop was certainly doing the trick, but at what fucking cost? If Sylvain felt a fraction of the dread he felt, well, that would fucking be enough.

Sylvain was well-versed in using his body to communicate, and sex was practically his native language. But while he often used it to apologize, he never meant it when he did. Except for now. 

Despite his earlier efforts to remain stoic, Felix had begun to unravel beautifully above him, just like he did every time. Sylvain echoed every moan, every sigh, committing each one to memory. He lifted a hand to cup Felix's face, no longer trying to hide his feelings. What was the point? If anything, this would help Felix hurt him more effectively, so maybe Sylvain was doing something good for once in his miserable life.

He angled his hips up and met Felix on a particularly hard thrust, his aching cock rubbing between them. And then he forced himself to make eye contact, silently pleading, Please don't leave me.

The hand to his face was as tender as it was painful. His fingertips and palms were like fire, burning to the touch. How he had wanted to be marked by Sylvain, he likewise wanted to be branded here. Felix leaned into his hand as he moved desperately in and out, reaching down, steadying his hips as he began a punishing pace.

Meeting Sylvain's eyes, that was the real punishment. Now, more than ever, they were sincere, filled with a desperation that he hadn't seen before. Felix dropped himself, barely stopping as his teeth scraped the crook of his neck. Chin over his shoulder, Felix bit savagely into his lip, whimpering as he approached the edge with Sylvain for the last time.

Sylvain wound his arms around Felix's narrow back and crushed him down to his chest with a muffled sob. The look he'd seen flash through Felix's eyes before he'd hidden his face from him--the vulnerability--Sylvain knew it was the last time he'd ever be seeing it, and it gutted him.

He came hard and messy between them, crying Felix's name over and over into his ear. He knew he was leaving angry red crescents all over Felix's back, but he didn't care. He needed to mark him one last time. Sylvain was here. He fucked it up, but he was here.

When Sylvain came and tightened around Felix, when his back was clawed and clutched at, when his name was repeated with such fervor, when he tasted blood , Felix came with a sob that wracked his body.

He remained on top of Sylvain in the moments after, shuddering from the comedown of his own pleasure as the reality of their current situation came crashing around him. Suckling at his own lip, he pressed down on the mattress. He needed to get out.

Sylvain whined softly as he felt Felix come and held him close through his orgasm. Not long after, he could feel the smaller man struggling to get away and tightened his hold on him. 

If Sylvain thought he'd felt panic before, all the times when he'd almost died, all the times he and Felix had fought...it was nothing compared to this. His pulse picked up and his vision darkened around the edges to the point where all he could see was pale skin and sharp features and sad eyes.

"Fe, please," he whispered, voice strained, eyes bleary with unshed tears.

There was no struggling in earnest against Sylvain. Literally or physically, Felix didn’t have the strength at the moment. He stayed in place, forced to look at eyes that clouded over like his own.

Blinking the tears away, he held their watery gaze. “No, Sylvain. Don’t make this any harder than it is. You’ve already let me go. This is just… closure .”

Even as he said it, he believed it less and less; the way his voice cracked only served to undermine his decision.

In yet another act of horrible selfishness, Sylvain brushed aside Felix's words, choosing instead to take his flushed, tear-streaked face in both his hands.

"I could never let you go, Fe," he murmured. "I know you want me to, but...I can't."

It was a wonder, really, how incapable Sylvain was of lying whenever Felix was around. He'd dug his own grave a thousand times over with the truth and yet, he couldn't stop. 

The bitter irony was that Felix always thought he was lying. 

The tears that fell on Sylvain’s lips and the pathetic whimper that answered Sylvain’s words were the last fucking straw.

Before this, Sylvain had stripped him down, allowed and facilitated him to be at his most vulnerable, at his fucking darkest. And now, he asked more of him, asked for a weakness he couldn’t afford. He’d already seen it all…there was nothing else he could offer. He still wasn’t enough.

With quick and erratic movements, Felix shook from his grasp, slipping from his entrance and hands. He grabbed the clothes, tugging on a shirt that turned out to be too long to be his own before making it out the door.

Sylvain watched Felix go in stunned silence, any further pleas dying before they left his mouth. He licked his lips, now salty with Felix's tears, then fumbled around on the floor for his clothes. The fact that the only shirt there was Felix's--no longer his Felix, because Miklan had been right, Sylvain was a complete fucking waste of space--seemed like a final "fuck you" from the universe. He gathered it up and held it to his face, then screamed into it until his throat was raw. Some time later, he Drifted into another uneasy slumber.

Chapter 27: Feminine Intuition

Summary:

She spotted Felix sitting alone at a table wearing a worn-out expression in place of his usual "don't fuck with me" one. After gathering her things, she made her way over and sat down across the table from him, then opened her magazine, picked up her tea, and resumed reading as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Most people knew far better than to approach Felix on a good day. May any fucking god past, present, or future have mercy on whatever dumbass soul approached him now--

Why did it have to be her?

Chapter Text

Felix slept for sixteen hours.

That’s a lie. It was more like three, cumulatively. At best.

He cried for hours. Wet sobs became dry heaves. His tears ran dry and his eyes were puffy and itchy. Felix was caught in this cycle until he was absolutely worn out and the only alternative was sleep.

When next he woke, it was only a few moments of blissful peace before the memory of what occurred came back. It was no nightmare and he was alone…alone and hungry.

Hating every second of it, Felix acquiesced to his hunger pangs. He dressed and walked with his head down to the mess hall. Once there, he didn’t even speak to the chefs, his tray filled with every offering available. Regardless of how unappetizing, he would force it down. Turning towards the tables, Felix headed to the back to find a table by himself.

Dorothea would have been annoyed that her co-pilot refused to come out of his room, except for the part where it was her fault. She sat sideways on one of the long benches in the mess hall, calmly flipping through a magazine and sipping sporadically from the cup of murky, bitter water that passed for tea.

She always liked to keep a watchful eye out. People tended to look at her and assume she was dumb or unperceptive. Sylvain himself had made that mistake, and now he was paying the price.

Well, they both were. She still felt like shit physically, even though she'd managed to get herself looking more than presentable this morning. It was the guilt that would kill her, and Dorothea didn't need to lose any more sleep.

She spotted Felix sitting alone at a table wearing a worn-out expression in place of his usual "don't fuck with me" one. After gathering her things, she made her way over and sat down across the table from him, then opened her magazine, picked up her tea, and resumed reading as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Most people knew far better than to approach Felix on a good day. May any fucking god past, present, or future have mercy on whatever dumbass soul approached him now--

Why did it have to be her?

Felix shoveled food in his mouth and chewed angrily. The anger, sadness, loss, all negative emotions he felt now and that had made residence in his heart and his feelings towards Dorothea were right on the outside of those. He was never friends with her as he never really was friends with anyone. But he respected and acknowledged her talents as a pilot. It was no shock that he was less than enthused about her being Sylvain's co-pilot because of her voluptuous voluminous assets, but his insecurities proved to be correct.

He stopped when she, for some reason, took a seat across from him. In a large mess hall with many currently very empty tables. Felix looked at her with a particularly stringy piece of meat hanging on the tines of his fork.

"Can I help you." 

It was supposed to be a question but Felix wasn't offering anything except a chance for her to leave.

"Mm, no, I'm just relaxing," Dorothea said. She finished the page she was on before looking up, folding down the corner and creasing it neatly with the edge of her fingernail. She wrapped her fingers around her cup of tea and leaned her elbows onto the table. Felix looked terrible, but it wasn't a surprise. She eyed the stringy meat and suppressed a grimace as her stomach turned.

"But if you want to talk," she added with a soft, melodic hum, "I'll listen. Or just be a body for you to vent at. I won't say a thing unless you ask."

Felix chewed on the really stringy meat while he played the part of Dorothea's captive audience. He was only slightly confused with what she said. Not only was there no gloating or mention of Sylvain, but she was offering...her ear? And to be an outlet? Okay, he was a lot confused. Women confused the fuck out of Felix and this one took the cake.

His guard wasn't dropped, but the tension in his shoulders did drop slightly. Felix shook his head, hair brushing side to side in his raised hoodie. "I don't know if I have things to talk about." He looked up from his alleged 'food' and regarded her with tired, red eyes. "I have nothing to vent at you for and you're your own person. You can say whatever you want."

Dorothea tutted sympathetically under her breath as she set her cup down on the table with a clink.

"Felix," she began gently, "I don't know exactly what happened between you and Sylvain. I hold some of the blame, yes, but..."

She hesitated. She'd done more than a bit of digging during the Drifts, taking advantage of Sylvain's external preoccupation with Felix in pursuit of her own nosiness. She felt no shame; rather, she felt an obligation to at least try to fix things.

He frowned at the soft tone she used. He didn't need to be fucking babied. He didn't need or want pity from fucking anyone. Felix snapped back in a hiss, "Him fucking someone else should give you a very good indication of what happened."

With unveiled irritation, he freely added, "You don't even have to be strapped in with Mia to sift and find that one." That was shit pilot etiquette and he didn't mind reminding her of that. He might not be with Sylvain anymore, but that...you just didn't do that to your partner.

"I know we had sex, Felix, I was there too," Dorothea said mildly. "What I meant was, there's a reason aside from 'Sylvain wanted to get laid.' He would've gone to you if it had been about sex. We were both drunk and he was a complete mess when he found me. He looked rough but I didn't ask what happened. None of my business, after all," she sighed with a little wave of her hand. She'd expected the irritation from him and was happy to take the brunt of his emotions if it meant getting him calmed down, recentered. He was a liability otherwise and with multiple occurrences ramping up in frequency, the last thing she needed was having to worry about a pilot who wasn't even in the same goddamn jaeger as her.

With a look that was more teeth than anything, he bit back sarcastically, "Glad to hear you were present and accounted for. And he couldn't really hurt me if I was the one he had sex with. And that's where you came in."

It wasn't until he said it that he realized how absolutely shitty it sounded. No, Dorothea wasn't his favorite person, but this was between him and Sylvain, she was willing, sure, but got put into the situation.

Beyond that, he hadn't meant to say the part about Sylvain wanting to hurt him. Not that he felt he had an obligation to protect his reputation or anything, but it just came out... It could've been anyone, but he singled out and picked Dorothea for maximum damage. The one he was already sensitive towards and he ensured that hit home in the softest parts of him. It was shitty...it really was.

"Anyway," he continued awkwardly. "We're not a thing anymore so it doesn't really matter."

Ah, there it was. Dorothea took a moment to ponder the new information. Sylvain was a classic fuckboy, yes. She knew it, he knew it, the whole world knew it. But he wasn't malicious. She'd seen him dump women and be dumped countless times--again, they all had. And sure, it was usually because he'd slept with someone else, but there was a difference between toying with people who didn't care about you and purposely torpedoeing an entire relationship. 

"Sylvain's a fucking idiot," she said. "Good-looking, but a complete idiot. I don't mean that he's stupid, because he's not. But he's ignorant, Felix. He does dumb things constantly. You wouldn't believe what an ordeal it is to keep him in check when we're piloting. I miss Edie." 

It wasn't a completely intentional breadcrumb to drop, but Dorothea didn't bother beating herself up for the slip. Sometimes, you had to give a little to get something in exchange.

Without missing a beat or swallowing, he said sardonically with a full mouth, "No shit," to most everything she said. He had personal experience with all of it. Except that last part.

Edie. The platinum haired phenom. For such a small package, she was the only jaeger pilot that wielded a weapon similar to the frightening power that was Dima's Areadbhar. But that's right. They had been co-pilots previously.

Out of reflex, he asked, "What even happened with Edel-- Edie ? She was your original co-pilot, right?"

Dorothea smiled a little. Now she had his attention. She wound a finger into one of her long brown curls as she answered, taking her time as always.

"Well, we've known each other for ages. She was the one who encouraged me to make the career change, you know. I guess she got tired of hearing me complain about men all the time." 

Dorothea gave a small musical laugh, eyes dancing. "But, Felix, for you to ask such a question...don't you already know the answer? After all, you and Sylvain got reassigned as well."

Felix watched with a passing interest as Dorothea spoke. She was obviously pretty, but he was beginning to understand what Sylvain meant about Drifting with her. A blank slate no doubt, and not because her mind was empty. She seemed very put-together...very compartmentalized if you watched closely. That observation on its own was interesting information to file away.

The sharp chuckle took him aback as did the news of the reason for their particular dissolution.

He asked perhaps more timidly with the knowledge of his own precarious situation, "So, you two...were together? Or what?"

"Oh, I suppose that depends on what you mean by 'together,'" she said with a small sigh. She'd gotten a small taste of how much fun it could be to tease Felix, and the meek way he was addressing her now was like catnip to her.

Dorothea reached out and tugged at the strings of Felix's hoodie, playing with them as she spoke. As far as she was concerned, she had carte blanche to invade his personal space a little if he was really going to sit there and ask her about her sex life.

"I don't usually kiss and tell, Felix," she murmured. "But I think...you...know." She walked the fingers of her other hand across the tabletop and gave his arm a gentle poke. "Unless...you're going to ask me how two girls do it?"

But her eyes were glittering with mischief, not annoyance. And her hangover was starting to abate, so at least there was that.

Felix remained at a placid, pinched neutral as Dorothea reached over, her willowy limbs touching, poking, and prodding what she could reach. If he spared a moment to think about it, he might consider why he didn't necessarily mind the contact she seemed to always lead with. But, that wasn't this moment.

He recoiled with mild disgust at her coy and crude question. "I meant as a couple, not the mechanics of it."

Though...that would require some creativity on their parts, which not everyone had. Hell, Felix thought back, the two times they had sex in Adder they were completely different experiences, neither of which were bad. Far from it. Though nothing he ever did with Sylvain was bad at all, up to and including whatever that was he instigated...

Felix shook his head, shaking his thoughts. He was well on his way down that particular rabbit hole and he needed to resurface.

He followed it up lamely, "I didn't know you two had a relationship. I don't really pay attention to that stuff." 

Dorothea sighed again, stilling the motions of her hands. She brought them down to rest atop one of Felix's own with a sad, knowing half-smile.

"We never really were officially anything, Felix," she said. "And now I don't get to see her anymore."

It wasn't quite true; Dorothea had run into Edelgard a few times since, but even their exceptional closeness was eclipsed by the impropriety. The fallout had been tremendous, and it had ruined them. She blinked twice, then locked eyes with Felix, hoping her words would sink in. 

If her words had an intended resonance with Felix and his situation, it was missed; eclipsed in the moment by the feeling of remorse for the women.

As compared to others, Felix regarded her with an anemic softness over their loss. Though muted by design, his look was no less genuine.

“I’m sorry. About you two not being able to see each other I mean. Did you want to be official?”

Now he was prying and he knew it, but he had some fucking leeway. 

The unexpected question sent a chill up Dorothea's spine and she dropped her voice low. Her gaze turned nostalgic and sorrowful, her smile bittersweet.

"Yes. And we were going to announce it soon. I don't know if you remember Rigor, that Cat 3 a while back, but we got careless. They have eyes everywhere, you know."

Dorothea inhaled for a count of five and allowed herself to picture the stricken look on Edelgard's face when they'd received the news that they were being reassigned. She wasn't sure how Felix had reacted when Sylvain got assigned to her, but it probably wasn't all that different. But these were things Felix did not need to know, she decided as she exhaled smooth and slow, counting to nine.

Felix had finished the last of his food when Dorothea recounted their oddly similar story. He couldn’t help but draw the similarities between their two situations. But…even so, all the more reason for confusion. “Rigor was a beast and it was handled perfectly.” He shook his head, glaring down at his surprisingly clean tray. “If that is more regular of an occurrence, it doesn’t even make sense to have them separate people. I remember seeing the combat logs. You guys were essentially perfect.”

Like him and Sylvain.

It shouldn’t go without mention that her change in demeanor went unnoticed. Nearly her entire posture deflated as she recounted the memory. On that level, Felix was sure he could relate. “So, why couldn’t you still go through and announce it?”

The innocence in Felix's words pained her, so she leaned in close as though she was about to tell him a secret.

"Edie's always been...ambitious, Felix. And while we certainly weren't the first--or last --pair of pilots to be caught in a compromising position, labeling the scandal as anything other than a momentary lapse in judgment, a simple one-time mistake would have ended her career. It was...easier this way. And it was my decision, not hers. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now? I wish I'd been more selfish."

It was so much more than she wanted to share. There was a reason she kept her thoughts so locked-down; even she didn't like to go there. But, considering her transgression, she figured sharing a few uncomfortable truths was the least she could do.

When Dorothea leaned in, Felix mirrored her position. He stayed silent as he listened to their story, one part standing out to him above the rest. “You took the decision. For her.” Felix looked down, mind back to his own memories…Sylvain and Dimitri both deciding what he deserved and some shit.

He spoke bitterly, “At least you recognize that you should’ve been more selfish. Maybe even let her decide what she wanted to do rather than you taking that decision away from her.”

The situations were too similar and he was getting into some murky-ass fucking waters.

Dorothea flinched at the accusation, even though she knew it wasn't directed at her. But it stung all the same, because Felix was right. In her effort to protect the one she loved, she'd stolen her agency.

"Felix," she said, voice barely audible now, "what do you want? Because Sylvain will stay away if you tell him to. It'll kill him, but he will because he loves you. He's...persistent, but even he won't keep chasing forever. At some point, he's going to listen to a 'no.'"

“He’s a fucking idiot and he’s wasting his time.”

The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. His tone matched Dorothea’s yet his words were heavy with emotion. “He knew he was wasting his time with me and he just acted on it when he went and found you. He’s just going to get tired of me again and…” Felix looked down, tears beginning to cloud his vision.

“I’m weak and I don’t know if I can take that again. I didn’t know anything could hurt this much.”

Dorothea, while admittedly not her own biggest fan, still tried her damndest to avoid self-pity, and self-loathing was something she didn't tolerate because she couldn't. If she opened the floodgates to that one, she would drown. She knew from past experience.

So she reached out and cupped Felix's face in both her hands, thanking the universe that she was a woman because it meant he probably wouldn't deck her for touching him right now.

"Felix, you're not weak," Dorothea said, and in that moment she was also speaking to herself. "Sylvain might be an idiot, but he's your idiot because he loves you. I know he does. I've seen it."

The curl in his lip was an unbidden reaction, but when feeling threatened and vulnerable? It was only natural to show some aggression, some opposition to meekness or in Felix’s case, weakness as well. Though, he didn’t further his cause for correcting that pitiful feeling as he shuddered, letting the impulse to strike back or pull away pass when he saw how Dorothea looked at him.

For once, her big, emerald eyes held no snark or coy gleam he couldn’t quite place. They looked at him, wide open with a look of understanding. That more than anything soothed what would’ve been his otherwise skittish and reactive behavior.

He spoke quietly. “I want to believe he does. But if he’s willing to treat what we had so casually, how can I?”

"That's the thing," Dorothea said gently, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs as she spoke. "For Sylvain, sex is probably more casual than talking to someone. It doesn't mean anything to him unless it means something to him, you know?"

She paused for a moment, wondering if she'd somehow made things worse. Even though her little unauthorized field trips into Sylvain's mind hadn't given her a very good baseline about what to expect when actually interacting with Felix. It was weird, she mused, how you could know what someone's face looked like when they came and still not be able to predict how they'd respond in simple conversation.

"Felix, how many people do you suppose have ever seen Sylvain cry?" she asked suddenly.

He shook his head in her hands before Dorothea stopped speaking. “No, I don’t know. Sylvain’s the only person I’ve ever been with. It’s never just been sex, even the first time.” He knew how naive and juvenile that sounded, but he didn’t fucking care. It was his truth. And he thought it was the same for Sylvain. But what was she going to do? Make fun of him for it? So be it.

Her next question, however, threw him off. “Seeing him cry? I don’t know…I guess not many?”

Dorothea hadn't really expected Felix to understand, but she certainly hadn't expected the sudden outpouring of words. Her heart twisted for a moment, and then broke for them.

"I can't pretend to know why Sylvain does half the things he does, but I have a...theory. You know how sometimes you hear a word a bunch of times and it stops sounding like a word? Now imagine that the word that's not a word was the first word you ever learned. How good would you be at talking, Felix?"

She kept it vague. She'd seen flashes of Sylvain's brother but that was one area in which Dorothea was not eager to connect any dots. She refocused her attention on the man in front of her, whose face was now a kaleidoscope of emotions.

"I asked about him crying because I didn't even think he could cry until I heard him last night. I think you might be the only person who's seen it, Felix. Now what does that tell you?"

His brows furrowed in confusion, reminding him of his pounding headache, as he tried to follow her theory's logic. He thought for a moment before answering her unsteadily, "You'd be good at parroting the one word. That's about it."

He studied the table's expanse before him, letting her words process. He knew the dark places they had shown each other weren't something to be shown to many. Felix was well aware what he told Sylvain, what he showed him was nothing he had ever breathed a word about. It wasn't until then that Felix realized it might've been the same for Sylvain.

Felix was new to the physical and emotional aspects of intimacy, yet he had experienced the gamut of each with Sylvain. He didn't often think of how Sylvain was with others because that wasn't him, it didn't concern him nor did it have bearing on the two of them. However, if he did think about it, did he think Sylvain was so open and raw with Petra? With Dorothea? With fucking Lorenz?

No. The answer was a resounding no.

Still frowning as he worked through it, Felix answered in a slow, measured tone. "That something was different. And that something allowed him to be open and...weak with me."

"He loves you," Dorothea said again, slowly, insistently. Inwardly, she was sighing. Men were idiots, and these two were idiots in love.

She tilted her head to the side, lost in thought for the moment, then skimmed the pads of her fingers over Felix's mouth. Then she looked into his eyes and studied him hard.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'm not your mother, and you don't want me to be. All I'm saying is, maybe don't throw it away. Especially on my account."

The fingertips that brushed against his lips were delicate, not nearly as calloused or rough as he wanted, but, why would they be. He rolled his lips inward, mouth set in a line...he loved him. And Felix never stopped loving him. At this point, he didn't think he could, the hopes of it becoming easier with time dwindling quickly as the ache in his heart pulsed again with life with the vague notion that there could be hope.

Grabbing her hand, he held it close to him before bringing it up to his lips, brushing a featherlight touch against her knuckles. He muttered lowly, soft puffs of air against her skin. "I'll think about what you said. Thanks..."

"You do that," she said benignly, trying to mask her surprise at the intimate gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her like this, and Dorothea had the uncomfortable feeling that she was taking something that wasn't hers.

She gently withdrew her hand, gathered her things, and rose from the bench. "I'm heading to the jaeger bay for a while, so you know where I'll be if you need me."

*

The strides he took down through the hallway dwarfed those of the cadets he lapped and passed. The anger he had bubbling just under the surface was a new sensation. Never had a rejection caused him such distress. Never had he even received a rejection from anyone other than Felix...

He had been there when Sylvain went to take Dorothea to bed. No one did anything to stop it. And why should they? It wasn't anything Dorothea hadn't hinted at being interested in, Sylvain would do what he always did, and Dimitri would only benefit from a newly unattached Felix...or at least he thought.

Later that day, he had sought out Felix only to find a shell of a man, despondent and more than unresponsive to any sort of advances he made. The kiss that he placed on his lips was met with still, tacit lips. There was no fire, no passion. That wasn't Fe. Whether happy or sad for all his life, the man had a fire within him that invigorated others. Yet here, with the man he wrapped in his arms, there was nothing.

Which led Dimitri to the present as he wheeled down towards the neighboring room. With no hesitation or delicacy, he banged loudly on Sylvain's door.

Chapter 28: Reave What You Sow

Summary:

"At the end of the day, I want his happiness. And if that's with you, then I'll be damned if you're going to waste it because anyone else in your position wouldn't."

Chapter Text

There was a knock on his door.

For nearly two days, there had been silence. No one had checked on Sylvain as he rotated endlessly between crying, passing out, and ferociously hating himself. And now someone was banging his goddamn door down. 

He picked himself up off the floor, joints cracking painfully, and grimaced into the mirror. He looked like shit. His torso was littered with bruises and scratches and bites. Felix's shirt lay in a crumpled, sodden heap where he'd finished crying into it (again) about twenty minutes prior. His eyes, shot through with angry red veins, lay in a valley of shadows from poor sleep.

"What the fuck do you want," he spat, opening the door to see the person he least wanted to see.

“What the hell did yo-- Jesus.

The sight that was Sylvain Gautier was nothing Dimitri expected to see. Matted hair, bloodshot and hollow eyes, the man looked absolutely ragged . It would be a lie to say the sight of him didn’t throw him off, taking the edge off his tone.

He took a step closer, specifically enough for a foot in the doorway. “Sylvain. Have you… have you not left your room?"

"No, Dimitri, I have not left my room. No reason to. There haven't been any attacks since the last mission, and in case you haven't noticed, Felix and I are no longer together. Haven't really been up for socializing."

Sylvain looked down at Dimitri's foot, but he didn't have the energy to be irritated. 

"Anyway, why are you here? Gonna try for round two? I'll even let you win this time. I deserve it."

“Please. It wasn’t a fair go around the first time. And unless you give me a reason for round two, no.” Dimitri looked at him with pitying eyes. “And yes, I’m very aware you and Fe are no longer together. Besides, I was there, remember?”

And he very well might not have. He was there at the table when Sylvain had turned his drunken charms on Dorothea.

Sylvain did not, in fact, remember. The whole night came in horrible flashes: holding Felix close as Sylvain proudly introduced him; the fight; Dorothea. He shrugged indifferently, though his expression was miserable.

"You didn't answer my question, Dimitri. Why are you here ? Did you come to gloat or something?" For a moment he had the horrible idea that maybe Dimitri and Felix were a thing now, or that they actually had fucked, or something. But he knew Felix--still his , even if he loathed the very ground on which he walked--and Felix wouldn't do that, no matter how hurt he was.

Dimitri felt irritation flare up again. Why the hell was Felix ever taken with such a man? It was unfathomable. And with that, so was the fact that such an ingrate could and would cause him such pain.

"I am here because of the number you did on, Fe." His voice cracked with emotion. "He's out trying to pick up all the shattered little pieces you made and trying to carry on with his duties as a shell of the fucking person I know." Any softness the brute of a man had had all but disappeared as he spat, "Yet here you are sitting here, feeling sorry for yourself. What about Felix?"

Hearing someone else speak about Felix like that, like they cared, hurt. Because Sylvain knew that Dimitri actually did care for Felix, and that was somehow worse.

"So, let me guess. You tried to fuck him--see if I made him into a good little whore during our time together, right?" At the best of times, Sylvain wasn't above a good old-fashioned low blow, and this was definitely not the best of times. "He shot you down, so you came crying to me to ask why, Sylvain, why. "

He eyed Dimitri with contempt, but inside he felt like he was dying. 

"Anyway, Dimitri," Sylvain sighed, "I don't know how to fix it. I'd give anything if I could rewind to an hour before that stupid fucking party." 

When they'd been having incredibly hot sex and sharing pain and Christ, Sylvain had never felt closer to anyone in his life and he never would again. He stifled a laugh at the memory of how Felix had used Dimitri to bait him in a private, excruciatingly intimate and vulnerable moment. Which Sylvain had then used as not just ammo but an entire fucking mortar to destroy what he loved most. He was good at that.

The shot at him was fine and to be expected from their first run in. However, the more he spoke, the more defeated and apathetic he was and how that pissed off Dimitri.

"Not quite." He looked as if the memory itself was painful. "Let me be clear, I kissed him and he did not pull away from me." He let the statement stand on its own for a moment, allowing it to sink in through Sylvain's thick skull.

"I didn't press him for more. And I have little doubt he would have said no." Dimitri continued in earnest, "But listen to me when I say he didn't do anything , Sylvain. Felix." He watched the man closely looking for any semblance of recognition of his words. "In any of the time you've known him, have you known him to meet anything with a non-reaction? He isn't like that. He is all passions--you should know that. There was none."

That was something that he had to give to the both of them, they seemed to thrive off those high emotions and somehow, they had made it work. But now, Felix was just some husk, while the one who made it all possible wallowed in a gratuitous pity party of inaction.

His worried tone soon turned into one of anger as he turned the conversation away from Felix and back onto the man that fucked him up. "I'd give more thought to how you are going to fix it than bullshit wishes when it's something you could do if you stopped wallowing for five minutes."

He lowered his voice, making sure each and every word hit its target. "At least act like he ever meant something to you." 

I kissed him and he did not pull away from me.

It was a pain worse than anything Sylvain had ever experienced in his life, and he had experienced an awful lot of pain. But what came next hurt even more. The image of Felix, frozen, not unwilling simply because he wasn't... there enough to resist. Anger boiled up in him at the thought of Dimitri taking advantage in Felix's hour of goddamn emotional need, but it quickly turned inward.

"I miss him. I fucked up so bad, Dimitri. I was..." Fuck, he really didn't want to say it. "I was jealous of your past because he wouldn't tell me anything and you kept dropping all those hints, and then I said some stupid shit and did some even stupider shit. And now I don't know what to do or how to fix it. I just want him back."

Dimitri thought Felix was a husk? He had no idea.

Dimitri remained silent as Sylvain finally began to open up, sharing a bit more pieces of information to the puzzle. The idea that Felix didn't speak much about what went on between them wasn't extremely surprising. There always was a closeness, one rooted as a family and that changed to feelings of attraction that were acted on for a short time until Rodrigue and Glenn's death. Felix withdrew into himself and distanced himself from everyone; nothing ever came of it afterwards. So to see him, years later, alive and well, it was only natural for some of those feelings to resurface with jealousy of his own after seeing him thrive with Sylvain.

He listened as the man threatened to breakdown, only responding when the helplessness was bookended with an actual statement.

"Listen. I will always cherish Felix because he is precious to me. That has absolutely no bearing on anyone else." At this, Dimitri stared at Sylvain; this was not a point he would budge on for anyone. "Yes, I am attracted to him and at one time, we were an item, but we were both young and it was before he truly became the man he is now."

Heaving a breath as if it was hard to get the words out--and it was--he continued. "As much as I don't think you've shown you deserve him, I've never seen him happier than when we were reunited here and I saw him with you. And I admit to being jealous of that connection I never had."

Bringing it home, now, Dimitri regarded Sylvain with a serious gaze, "At the end of the day, I want his happiness. And if that's with you, then I'll be damned if you're going to waste it because anyone else in your position wouldn't."

He braced Sylvain's shoulder with a hard grip, shaking him. "You told me you wouldn't stand for anyone speaking poorly of him even by extension. I respected that and that you acted on it, even at the expense of my nose. But you have to know this is worse than that, Sylvain. And you are the only person that can fix it."

Hearing the words fall from Dimitri's lips would have made Sylvain jealous and bitter under any other circumstances. However, these were strange days indeed and so, the words brought him a great deal of comfort.

"Thank you, Dimitri. I asked once or twice, but Felix wouldn't say anything beyond you two being close. He let slip that one time that you'd kissed, presumably more than once, but he shut down again after that. It's...good to know that I'm not only a jealous lunatic." Out of kindness, Sylvain left out the part where Felix had said Dimitri could never compare to Sylvain in terms of kissing (along with everything else).

The large, strong hand on his shoulder took him off-guard and Sylvain's expression turned to that of mild confusion. But he lifted his own and and placed it on top of DImitri's as he met his gaze.

"How do I fix it, Dima? He won't speak to me and I know that then he's upset, he needs his space...and I need to respect that, even if it's killing me inside."

"I can't tell you how to do it. I thought I could at least offer some sort of comfort, but I don't think he can have any of that until you and he resolve whatever connection you two have." It didn't escape Dimitri's notice that the words didn't come out nearly as acidic and as bitter as he thought they would; that was a pleasant and welcomed surprise.

"I think space is needed when he says it is. But the distance is something different and I think that's something you need to close." He looked sternly down at Sylvain, adding, "And you need to swallow your pride and not be too chicken shit to do it."

"What else am I, then?" Sylvain asked, and his voice was hollow instead of flirtatious and inviting. He had no idea how the fuck to interpret the smirk and squeeze--Dimitri was still an absolute mystery to him, no matter how well he knew Felix, how much history they had between them.

Was...Dimitri actually trying to help him fix what he'd obliterated with Felix? It was a novel concept, and Sylvain took a moment to ponder it. 

"Don't call me chicken," he quipped, quoting Back to the Future. He didn't know whether Dimitri had seen it--the guy gave off the "I live in a cave and never leave it" vibe, even more than Bernadetta--but there was something in the taller man's tone that lifted his spirits just a little.

"I...am grateful for you," he admitted. And then, after a beat: "Where is he now?"

Any pop culture references were sorely wasted on Dimitri; as such, Marty McFly Sylvain was in a no-fly zone. "I called you chicken shit which is decidedly worse than 'chicken'. Don't make me seem nicer than I am intending to be to you." There was a slight gleam in his eye with the small quirk of his lips. Begrudgingly, he was on the way to warming to Sylvain, right now, for Felix's behalf, but beyond that...who knew?

Dimitri stood back, satisfied with the resolve in Sylvain's voice. "He's probably still in the north overlook on the outer perimeter." Regarding Sylvain with a genuine look, he intoned quietly, "Bring Fe back."

"I will," Sylvain promised, though he wasn't so sure he could. He gave Dimitri one last long glance over his shoulder as he headed off toward the tower at an alarmingly brisk pace.

All the while, his mind was spinning with what he'd say to Felix, how he'd say it, if he should approach him and bundle him into his arms and never let go.  He climbed the tower so quickly that he slipped twice and for once in his life, he did not welcome the prospect of a gruesome and untimely death. He had to fix this.

When he reached the top, he leaned over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Then he said simply in a voice like torn cloth, "Fe."

Chapter 29: Hope in High Places

Summary:

"How would you feel if I told you that I was happiest with you?"

Chapter Text

'Fe.'

That voice had been haunting him over the past two days. Felix was damn near unsure of what the voice in his head sounded like before it ever sounded like Sylvain. He couldn't escape him, and after speaking with Dorothea, he had to admit he didn't want to. He hadn't been able to hear his voice in days, the same voice that could entice and calm. The same resonate tone that was savage when in combat and moaned when he was in his bed.

Sitting out in the salty breeze, he felt a million miles away from everything and everyone, yet he somehow still couldn't escape Sylvain.

Sitting on the grated platform, his legs dangled off the side, arms folded and draped over the lower crossbar. Felix turned his head expecting no one, getting an eyeful of Sylvain, hunched over breathing hard. His eyes went wide and wild as if he wasn't sure of what he was seeing.

Softly, he answered the only way he knew how to, the only way he could in that moment, "Sylvain."

'Sylvain.'

It wasn't the sound of his name leaving Felix's lips for the first time in two days that touched him most; no, it was the soft tone in which he said it. Sylvain wasn't sure if he should interpret it as forgiveness or fatigue or defeat, but he strongly suspected that the implication was a combination of all three.

He took a chance and sat down carefully next to Felix, their thighs not quite touching. He slipped his arms between the railings and leaned forward on his elbows to study his former fiancé. 

"Fe," he said again. "I...won't say I'm sorry unless you want me to, because 'sorry' doesn't cover it and I don't think it's enough."

Every fiber of his being pulled at him to close the gap that Sylvain left. But...it was closer than they had been in days and Felix was happy for that as opposed to anything else. 'Relaxed' wasn't exactly correct to describe Felix, but neither was 'stiff.' He turned his head, laying it on his folded arms, looking up at a slant at his ex.

Focused on keeping his cool, he kept his voice level. "You can say what you want. I'm not forcing you to say anything. But," he looked down at the churning waves and dark metal, "...you're right. If you're asking, I don't want a 'sorry.'"

Felix matched his gaze again as a sick, weak flicker of hope blooming in his chest, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to try to make things right," Sylvain said, his expression and posture both open and, he hoped, inviting. This was the last time he'd try. After that, he was fully prepared to admit defeat and go back to drinking too much and having copious amounts of meaningless sex every night. And sometimes in the morning and afternoon, too.

He took a tiny step toward Felix, carefully as a Grandmaster moving a chess piece. After this, he was going to let Felix play white during the next round. 

A memory of Miklan threatened to surface: one of the rare occasions he'd been kind to Sylvain. He had invited him up to play chess in the third-floor library. He even taught Sylvain a little, helped him win fair and square.

And then he'd shoved him out the bay window and Sylvain had broken a considerable percentage of the bones in his body.

You're not welcome here, he told the thought and probably himself as well.

Remaining hunched over, he looked at Sylvain as if he were truly seeing him for the first time...and wasn't that true? The man looked an absolute mess. Scraggly hair, worn, bloodshot eyes, deep circles beneath his eyes... At the time of previous breakups, Felix had seen his then-co-pilot show with a hot hand print on his face, but never any of the things he now saw on his handsome features.

'...how many people do you suppose have ever seen Sylvain cry? '

Felix gripped the warm metal bar as though it was a lifeline, and in that moment, it felt like it was. He needed something to ground him from the saccharine hope that was invading his psyche. He swallowed thickly, speaking in a small voice. "I'm here...I'm listening."

I'm hoping.

Sylvain took a deep breath and scooted just a little closer to his hopefully-soon-to-no-longer-be-ex.

"I fucked up, Fe," he began, repeating the words he'd said before. "Really bad. I...when I grabbed Dorothea's hand, I wanted to hurt you. But as soon as we got to my room, I realized what a horrible goddamn mistake I'd actually made when I accused you of that whole thing with Dimitri."

Sylvain's words were timid and he inched his hand toward Felix's, seeking the comfort he knew he didn't deserve. 

Hearing the words he knew were true didn't hurt any less, but there was a genuine sincerity to them. Felix wasn't the best at separating feelings from actions, which is why this entire fallout was as bad as it was. Sylvain knew and played on it. Yet, that was also why Felix was unable to forgive him. Or, at least, that had been the case.

Felix saw Sylvain's hand sneak closer to his own. There had been instances when he reached out and Felix didn't return the gesture. He had no intentions of making that same choice now. With a timidity that Felix absolutely abhorred, he moved his hand along the railing, meeting familiar calloused tips.

"Thank you...for acknowledging that." Felix let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "The thing with Dima...it's complicated as it is and that just added to it...I could've, should've handled it better. So...sorry back."

"He, uh, really cares about you, Fe. And from what he said, he's willing to put aside his feelings because he wants to see you happy. Besides," Sylvain said with a laugh that was just a touch nervous, "like you said--he pulled metric fucktons of ass while he was in the Academy. And probably after, too, before you guys had your reunion. Which, when I think about...actually makes me really happy, Fe, because you were so happy."

He placed his hand on top of Felix's, thumb massaging slow circles on the tender spot between his thumb and forefinger the way he knew he liked. Then, taking yet another chance, Sylvain lowered his head and placed those three familiar kisses to Felix's forearm.

It was surreal, but it warmed Felix's heart to hear Sylvain say such things about the man. Dimitri was a good man. He always had been and Felix didn't see that changing. He knew Dimitri cared for him, Felix cared for him just the same, yet it was at that foundational level where it began and ended. Perhaps were things different, there could have been a chance for something to develop further between them. But as it was, there would never be Felix and Dimitri as long as there was Sylvain.

With each calming rotation coupled with what had become their symbol of comfort, Sylvain eased further tension from Felix. He scooted closer, now hip to hip with Sylvain.

Watching his practiced motions, Felix spoke in a low voice, lulled by the near-instantaneous calming sensation that Sylvain afforded him.

"How would you feel if I told you that I was happiest with you?"

"I... Fe. I'm a trainwreck in slow motion. But...I believe you. And this is going to sound cheesy but again, I fed you a really terrible line before our first night together."

Sylvain smiled fondly at the memory and lifted a hand to caress Felix's cheek, work-worn fingertips barely brushing the soft skin, the high cheekbones. 

"I didn't know how to love or be loved until I met you."

The softness in his voice, the softness of his caress, and the softness in his gaze all tore into the most tender parts of Felix. As if he could fight the instinct, he closed his eyes, leaning into the comfort of his touch.

"So cheesy, Sylvain. And I was a virgin, even I knew it was bad."

With a barely concealed smirk, Felix looked over at Sylvain with imploring eyes. "Do you know now? About love?"

"I more than know, Fe," he breathed as he leaned in. Not quite close enough to kiss; he would leave that decision entirely up to Felix. But close enough for the proximity to be a suggestion. "You're it for me. You're my person. I just wish I didn't have to be such a goddamn idiot to fully realize it."

Sylvain found himself struggling to regulate his pulse, his breathing, his everything as he looked into those amber eyes he loved so much--now, they held no trace of animosity. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Sylvain almost saw hope in his gaze. 

'You're my person.'

Those are the words Felix had longed to hear. From the looks of the battered and now taped-together o-ring that pressed into his skin, he had already come to a similar determination when he found the broken piece of plastic still on the floor outside their rooms.

Felix pushed back from the bar he gripped and tilted his head ever closer, once again sharing the same breath with his Sylvain, a hint of a smile playing at the edge of his voice. Trusting, eager amber eyes trained on their sweet brown counterparts.

"You better kiss me like you missed me. "

Chapter 30: Kiss Me Like You Missed Me

Summary:

"You better kiss me like you missed me. "

Chapter Text

That was all the invitation Sylvain needed, really. He slid over to Felix with an alacrity that surprised even him, and then he was throwing his arms around Felix and crushing him to his chest so ferociously that for a moment, he was afraid the other man wouldn't be able to breathe.

Then he tackled Felix to the ground and began to hungrily work his lips, his teeth, his tongue over his ex's (but perhaps not anymore, his mind added hopefully) mouth. Though he longed to let go to run his hands over every inch of Felix's body to show him just how much he'd missed him, he decided that it was better to just hold Felix in his arms as though he'd never let him go. 

And goddamn if Sylvain didn’t miss him.

Felix immediately opened himself up to being on the receiving end of the most voracious and all-encompassing experience in his life. The many physical sensations, Sylvain’s teeth, lips, tongue, mouth, his everything was everywhere and Felix wanted it all.

He met each move with equal, if not more fervor, scrabbling for purchase with whatever he could grab wanting only to be ever closer to Sylvain. As a man days without water in a desert, there was a visceral desperation that Felix had no choice but to succumb to that he found could only be satiated and satisfied by his partner.

When his tears of relief and joy began to fall, he didn’t know. Pulling and gripping him to his chest, Felix broke away, panting heavily into the crook of his neck. “I missed you so fucking much. Please don’t leave me again.”

Sylvain reached up with a loving hand and brushed away the tears from Felix's face with the pad of his thumb.

"I missed you so much, Fe. Let's not do that again. And I know I said I wouldn't say it, but...I'm sorry."

Realizing how precariously close to the edge they were, Sylvain rolled them over; Felix was on top of him for a scant moment before they were lying side-by-side again, his back pressed up against the sturdy tower.

"So now that I'm shown you how much I missed you," he began, even though his demonstration so far had only been the tip of the iceberg, "why don't you show me how much you missed me?"

Felix rolled where Sylvain directed him, never happier to be at the whims of his tumbles. With Sylvain's prompt, countless crude and prurient ideas came to his mind, each more indecent than the last. But, that was something he always wanted. He missed his physical contact with Sylvain, yes. But their physicality wasn't why he missed him and why being apart was near unbearable.

In a quick heap of moving limbs, Felix maneuvered Sylvain and himself up, Sylvain with his back against the tower's wall and him straddling his lap. He sat back on his heels and raised his hand between the two, showing the exceptionally rudimentary and shabby ring. Crinkled and cracked, wrapped with the dirty scraps of scotch tape he took from a poster on the bulletin board, he showed the accessory as if it was his most prized possession. And in the moment, and for the foreseeable future, it was.

"This much," he said with a shy smile.

"Hmm, I don't think that's enough," he murmured, just loud enough for Felix to hear, though his heart stuttered upon seeing the ring. "I think there's more you're not telling me about. Showing me. It's been almost two days, Fe. You want this just as bad as me."

Muscle memory led Sylvain to grip at Felix's hips with long, large hands and pull him down and forward the way he knew they both liked.

"I imagine you probably didn't touch yourself, but what comes to mind?" he continued, echoing his words in the shower before everything went to hell and back with near-perfect accuracy. He slid a hand from Felix's hip down to grasp at his nearly painful hardness with a pleased smile; at least he hadn't lost his touch. 

Felix's flexible hips went freely as Sylvain's hands directed them with a hiss, moving his hands to bracket Sylvain's head.

The smaller man looked away, worrying at his lip for a moment before finding Sylvain's eyes with a defiant look of his own. "Well, you'd imagine wrong then, wouldn't you? "

The exploratory, yet, familiar roll of his hips was basically reflex as a result of his delicious position. He repeated his motion, this time eliciting a low moan. Touching himself was never as good as it was with Sylvain. But touch himself, he did.

Sylvain's heart stopped and his breathing shallowed at the admission. He swallowed hard, audibly before asking, "And what did you think about, my Felix?" he queried, knowing that his partner wanted, needed to hear the possessive.

All the while, his thumbs were massaging skillfully into his hips. Sylvain turned his head to plant a delicate kiss on the inside of Felix's wrist, murmuring I love you against the warm skin and hummingbird pulse. I love you so fucking much that it nearly killed me when I lost you.  

Felix bent, attending to Sylvain's neck, peppering kisses up the side of his neck, laving attention to the soft skin behind his ear. With breathy pants in equal parts from the outpouring of emotions and the physical reactions he always had with Sylvain.

He thought back to the wee hours of the morning, giving voice to the memory, nearly purring in his ears, the possessive buzzing and vibrating through his lips and tongue to his skin. "My Sylvain. No one else loves me like you do. "

"No, he whispered into Felix's ear in response before tracing the shell of his ear with his tongue and biting his earlobe. "I love you more than words could possibly say. And I know quite a lot of words."

Instead, he slipped his hand down and into Felix's back pocket, silently encouraging to arch his back more. Felix was already so wonderfully expressive and vocal, just as Sylvain had remembered.

"You didn't answer my question, though...I didn't hear you so how'd you muffle? I was listening for those delicious moans of yours, you know. And what were you picturing?"

A chill that had nothing to do with the ocean breeze rolled through him, sending a pulse of pleasure straight to his cock. He felt the large hand at his back and bent his back at it led, yet only allowed the slightest of downwards drags with his hips.

Felix lowered his head even further down his neck, nipping at the collar of a very similar undershirt. Dragging the collar and snapping it with his teeth, Felix fixed Sylvain with a positively devilish look.

"My mouth was busy stretching out the top of your shirt. Which, incidentally, you're never getting back," he added with a grin that had far too many teeth to be innocent by any measure. "I ripped it when I was riding my fingers thinking of you." At this point, Felix rolled his hips down, outlining the very hard member beneath him. 

"Mm, I think I'm okay with surrendering it," Sylvain murmured against Felix's wrist. "As long as I'm yours again. Because you'll never stop being mine, Fe." The last few words were tremulous and tentative, uncertain, and above all, hopeful.

Instead of the absolute whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, He focused on gripping Felix's small but firm ass and pressing him down further into his lap, trying to communicate without words just how much Sylvain had missed him.

Felix stopped the motion he was directing, letting his bottom half go slack, moving only with Sylvain's motions. He drew back incrementally, grabbing the sides of his head, tilting his face up.

Concerned, Felix looked into his eyes, finding an uncertainty and a tentativeness that matched what he thought he heard in his voice.

"Hey." Eyes not leaving Sylvain's, he spoke softly. "I'm yours. I chose you, I am choosing you right now. I will continue choosing you for as long at you let me. You have to let me though. I only want to be yours, Sylvain Jose." The waver in his voice at the end was the only issue.

Sylvain's heart swelled at the expression of care and commitment. He'd also never had either of of those things, and he marveled at just how many firsts Felix was discovering.

"Please take me back," he whispered as he began to feel the telltale pressure building in his lower abdomen. "But first...please come for me. I know you want to, even if you've been thinking impure thoughts and fucking yourself. You know good and goddamn well that even your fingers, or anything, really, can't compare to this. Me, captive beneath you, wanting desperately to fuck you...."

The heat that was swirling in his abdomen was something that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Hm...later then.

Felix ground down, rubbing the cleft of his ass along Sylvain's length while he rubbed his own hardness against Sylvain's well-built abdomen.

Felix leaned forward, claiming his mouth with an especially hard thrust. "How do you want me? Tell me how you want your Felix."

"Mmm,"' Sylvain said, pretending to be deep in thought. "Honestly, I kind to want to suck your dick and play with your balls until you fucking see stars," he purred, every filthy syllable rolling deliciously off his tongue. He tended to be a bit more delicate with Felix, but it had been two days--far longer than they'd ever gone before.

True to form, he lifted Felix delicately off his lap and shoved him back against the tower, dropping to his knees  in one fluid motion to unzip his pants and, unexpectedly, take all of Felix into his mouth at once.

The o of Felix's mouth only grew larger from the absolutely delicious filth that came out of Sylvain's mouth to the impressive amount of Felix's cock that he put into his mouth.

Felix nearly doubled over with his swift motions and the immediate pleasurable pressure of his mouth. "Fuck, Sylvain," he groaned out as he leaned back, head rolling up against the wall. "You feel so good..."

Sylvain held his partner's hips  against the tower and sucked as though his life seem depended on it. It didn't, of course, but the state of their relationship certainly did.

He slithered his hands into Felix's pants and expertly cupped his sensitive balls, rolling them carefully in his hand. He hadn't touched Felix in two days and here he was all the same, desperate and needy and trying his damndest not to buck into Sylvain's mouth.

Sylvain rewarded Felix by taking the head of his cock between swollen lips and lavishing attention to the slit at the tip. 

That goddamn tongue...Sylvain was talented on so many levels. How Felix lucked into being with a man that was so well-versed in physical pleasure and the one who made him feel complete...well, that was just dumb fucking luck and Felix would be fucking goddamned if he was going to give any of it up.

Felix threaded his hands through the dark auburn locks, pulling them back easily, tilting his head to look at him as he tongued his slit. He let out a series of low, moaning praises, stroking his cheek softly.

"You feel so good, Sylvain. You're so good for me, you know that?"

Sylvain moaned long and loud at the praise, hollowing his cheeks extra hard in search of more. The sensation of Felix's fingers twisted in his hair, the pleasurable weight of Felix's cock on his tongue, the way every whisper, every moan, as he sigh went straight below the belt...Sylvain thought for a moment that he could happily do this and nothing else for the rest of his life.

He tried to murmur something like "You feel so good, Fe," but his words were muffled. He gave up on trying to speak and against rubbed the flat of his tongue firmly, insistently along the base and underside of Felix's cock. He pulled off with a wet pop for a split second to mutter, "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good, you know," before he was back at it. 

Sylvain's words were answered with a deep chuckle and a soft caress of his cheek. "You already are and I know you will."

With Sylvain's renewed vigor, sucking like it was his job and the rent for Adder was due tonight, Felix set himself to watch the master at his craft. Like a cat stretching, extending and retracting their claws, Felix opened and shut his hand, his dull nails skimming over his scalp.

His moans became links to more words of praise. "Mmm-my Sylvain, I've missed you. The feel of your thick hair between my fingers, that talented fucking mmm-mouth of yours..."

"Mmm," Sylvain rumbled around the hard organ in his mouth. He wondered what else Felix had missed about him--he suspected the list was lengthy--and focused on swirling his tongue in circles around the tip, alternating between hard and gentle, slow and fast. All the while, his eyes were trained on Felix' face, not willing to miss a single response.

He slipped a hand down to rub lightly against Felix's entrance. He certainly wasn't going in dry and he planned to drag Felix back to his room as soon as possible to finish the job. But for now? He was more than content to drink in every gasp, every moan, every involuntarily twitch of his hips.

With the expert finger, Felix bucked forward and then ground back into the digit letting out a small whine. Moaning his name, Felix managed to steady himself enough to take a slow, exploratory thrust forwards, feeling his lips slip down his length, tight and wet from tip to root.

Felix let out a groan as his toes curled in his boots.

Sylvain grinned against heated flesh and gave a tiny smile that was half affected, half genuine. Below the belt (or at least where it would fall if not for Sylvain being completely naked), he was twitching like mad and making soft breathy ah sounds against Felix with every involuntary movement.

"Please, Fe? Can I? It's been so long since I've been inside you...I wanna feel every inch of you, have you mark me up." And god, just euthanize him if he ever grew tired of either thing. 

Felix kept his hand in his hair, snaking his other down the side of Sylvain's face to finally grip at his jaw, holding his head firmly in place. He let another long, languid thrust into his throat before pulling off from Sylvain.

Holding Sylvain's head still, Felix tilted it up and back so he could clearly see his eyes. He could afford the time to calm himself before diving into the goodness that was his...Sylvain. "You miss filling me up, don't you? You know I'm still just carved out for you, right?" He accompanied his words with a lidded, satisfied stare.

Sylvain's breath, which had been remarkably steady until now given the circumstances, hitched a little. "Did...how did you do that?"

The thought of having fucked Felix so thoroughly that he'd left an imprint sent a shiver down his spine, and the image of Felix maintaining it himself for just such an occurrence was even better. He grasped once more at Felix's hips to pull them toward him and up, his lower back resting squarely on Sylvain's thighs. Then he began to push in, wanting Felix to feel every inch as he leaned down once more to plant three little kisses down to his navel. 

He wore a wide, toothed grin when Sylvain’s breath audibly hitched. Happily, Felix collapsed easily into Sylvain’s lap, obviously looking to test that theory.

Felix hissed in pain and then pleasure, feeling all at once pulled apart, but whole. The three little kisses served to ground him. Felix moaned for Sylvain, praising him for how well he made his mark.

The moan went into his ears, down his spine, and straight to his cock. He didn't think he could get much harder, but the way he swelled ever-so-slightly in Felix's tight hole betrayed the true effect of his lover's words on him.

"Fe," he gasped, beginning to move his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. "Fe." His hands slid up the lean torso and scrabbled for purchase, calloused fingertips lingering on the rosy hard buds of Felix's nipples. 

The searching hands would have no trouble finding their targets. Felix arched his back, jutting his chest forward into Sylvain’s dexterous hands. He moaned into the sharp sensations of pinches as he ground down, moving his hips in a swivel.

Felix answered each of Sylvain’s calls with affirmations, interspersed with begging of his own. “Yes, yours, only yours; please, Sylvain, more. I need to feel all of you inside me.”

God, Sylvain had missed Felix's sounds. Most of all, he loved the obscene little moans.  

Leaning down, Sylvain pressed close to whisper directly in Felix's ear. "I love the little ah, ah, sounds you make," Sylvain added with several breathy moans directly into Felix's ear canal with each forceful thrust. 

Sylvain's hot breath and heated words nearly made Felix recoil, shying away from the inferno that was Sylvain fucking Gautier. Yet, the idea of being away from him, of separating for even the slightest amount of time when one hundred percent of his focus was on him was fucking ludicrous.

Felix leaned into Sylvain's cheek, directing his own voice towards him. Only adding a small affect to his normal responses, Felix gasped and moaned just like he wanted. He nibbled at Sylvain's ear, licking a warm stripe up the shell of his ear, as he positioned himself at more of an angle for Sylvain to hit true on his most sensitive spot. "You see what you do to me?"

"I do," Sylvain groaned in response. "Show me more? Fuck, I missed you, Fe. The way you feel, the way you sound, the way you look at me..."

He pressed a series of kisses along Felix's jaw, moaning freely at the graze of his lover's tongue against his sensitive ear. His hands tightened around Felix's hips until Sylvain was certain he could leave bruises as he pounded mercilessly into him, each time hitting the spot that never failed to make Felix cry out. 

Felix leaned forward with his words, stalling his motions and hovering above him letting Sylvain buck up into him as he pleased. The attention Sylvain showed him was something even Felix didn’t know he needed and he ate up every second.

Turning his head side to side, he leaned in, giving Sylvain the most real estate possible for his voracious mouth. Felix whimpered from the repeated, ruthless pleasure that Sylvain insisted on giving him. His head lolled down to the soft skin of his neck. Clearly above where his collar would be, between gasps, Felix laved at the spot before purring in his ear, “ Everyone will know you are Sylvain Fraldarius and that you are mine. ” Felix latched onto his neck with teeth and his lips, sucking a fast bruise into his skin.

The words brought stinging tears to Sylvain's eyes and sent a rush of lust through his entire body all at once.

"Sylvain Fraldarius," he repeated, voice slightly choked with emotion. " Yours, Fe. Always. Please... please don't ever leave me again."

He continued to work his hips up into Felix in a slow, sultry grind. The bites, the nips, the relentless suction of Felix's lips and teeth and tongue only served to spur him on. 

It was the heaviness in his voice that pulled Felix’s attention to his face and his watery eyes. Cupping his face, Felix peppered Sylvain as gently as he could in sets of three while being driven mad by his slow undulations.

“No, no. You’re mine. I’m yours. This is it. You’re my person.”

His lips began to move sluggishly, leaving more trails of his lips rather than actual kisses. Felix began anew, pressing down on Sylvain’s every upward thrust.

Sylvain's hands slid up to cup the back of Felix's neck, lacing his fingers together across the narrow nape. He used the leverage to pull Felix's head up and kissed him soundly, kissed him until he ran out of breath and started to see little pinpricks behind his eyelids.

Sylvain's fingers tightened around Felix's cock and he began to stroke at a rapid, almost punishing pace. The saving grace was the soft caress of his fingertips with each pass over the heated flesh as he moaned long and loud and shameless into Felix's mouth.

Neck grabbed and pulled closed, Felix whimpered against Sylvain as he claimed his mouth for his own. He gasped at the sudden attention to his cock. His greedy partner did not let him stay away long to get air, instead sealing their mouths again while he gave incessant and demanding strokes to his length.

Felix whined out, overwhelmed and well on his way to overstimulation. He grabbed, holding tightly around Sylvain’s shoulders, tasting him deeply.

Sylvain came abruptly inside Felix with a small grunt and a sigh, warmth flooding his chest even as he filled his partner to the brim.

"I love you so much, Fe," he said into the angle of Felix's jaw. "Thank you." Sylvain wasn't sure what else to say in the moment. He knew that for Felix, offering up his body was the ultimate act of trust, the ultimate display of love and devotion. And in light of the facts there was nothing more to say, really. He lay still for a long while, content to listen to the thready thrumming of his lover's pulse, to feel the rabbit-quick beating of Felix's heart beneath his own.

The sigh that Felix let out when he felt Sylvain fill him was something more of a release of the tension that had been building over the last few days.

He fell forward, collapsing against Sylvain’s chest. Felix nuzzled into his arms, content to lay with him in relative silence, rising and falling with his breaths as Felix regained his own.

Felix grabbed at Sylvain’s shirt and rubbed the fabric with the tips of his fingers. Not looking at anything in particular, he asked, “Why the thanks?”

Sylvain slipped out gently and performed the now-familiar (yet sorely missed) ritual of cleaning them up. Then he rejoined Felix to lavish him with tiny kisses that were pressured, hurried as though he were trying to make up for lost time. And perhaps he was.

"Thank you for...this. For you. I don't know if you want me back the way we were, but if you do...so do I." 

Felix let out a small chuckle, on the side of awkward. “I don’t think anyone’s ever thanked me for being anything, much less just being  me…”

When he paused, he grabbed Sylvain’s hand bringing it between their faces, his hair tie still firmly wrapped around his finger. Felix slipped his finger in, snapping it to his skin. “You sure?” He looked seriously at him. “Really.”

The awkwardness was familiar, but just as endearing as it had always been. Sylvain stroked his fingertips across Felix's cheek, his eyes warm and soft in the dim light.

He smiled a little when he felt Felix's slender, strong finger slip in between the elastic and his own skin. Through it all, he'd never taken it off. 

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he murmured as he brushed his nose against Felix's bangs.

"I love you, I am beyond fucked for you, and I don't want to ever be without you again."

The sweetness that seemed to come so easy to Sylvain was painful. How much he cared about this man and how he looked at him, really at him , it twisted his heart.

Felix nosed at the soft lips, “Stop, you’re gonna kill me.” He intertwined their fingers and held them to his lips. “I love you back. And I need you to stay with me, Sylvain.”

"Together, " Sylvain breathed, repeating the words they'd whispered to each other in Adder's cockpit what felt like an eternity ago. He lifted a hand to trace his fingertip along the border of Felix's lips before sealing the gesture with another kiss.

Chapter 31: Something Worth Saving

Summary:

He couldn't help but wonder what they'd spoken about, though he wasn't about to ask. Presumably, it wasn't about Sylvain's prowess in bed--he'd been so shitfaced at the time that he barely felt it and had only the ugly bruises and gashes on his knuckles to remind him that it had happened at all. 

Chapter Text

He sat up, combing back through his hair. Felix slouched over, his hand dropping to his thigh. He looked back at Sylvain, “I’ve only ever wanted to be with you…you tell me.”

"I want to be with you until the day I die," Sylvain said, scooting closer to curl himself around Felix. "I don't ever want us to be apart again. I want you, Fe, all of you. Your smile, your kisses, your touch. The way you get pissy but still look at me with love a second later. All of it."

Felix rolled his eyes fondly at Sylvain before wrapping his arm around the large man now snuggly curled around him. "You can have all that. You can have all of me ."

He looked down, sheepishness seeping into his voice. "The good and the bad. Because I want that from you. And I don't want anything else. I never have, until I met you and now, that's it for me. And I mean that."

That's it for me.

The idea of being it for anyone terrified Sylvain on a level so deep, he'd previously had no idea it even existed. He wondered for a moment, with a sharp stab of self-loathing, whether Felix would still say that if he'd spoken to literally anyone who had been previously involved with Sylvain.

But Felix wasn't stupid. He knew all of that, and he still wanted him. Sylvain pressed his cheek into the side of Felix's head with a little whimpering sigh.

"I really love you, you know?"

The weak sigh and the sentiment that followed tugged at Felix's heart. He raised his hand back, cupping the side of Sylvain's head. "I know. That's why when you say it, I say 'I love you back'."

Felix patted his head, "It's because I know you do already. I trust what you tell me."

Sylvain tightened his arms around Felix until the embrace was just-this-side of uncomfortable. There had been far too many times already that he'd almost lost Felix, and he didn't want to let it happen again.

"So, what about you?" he asked with a sly quirk of his lips. "What did you get up to over the last day or so, when you weren't busy fucking yourself silly while you thought about me?"

Felix wanted to meet the handsome smirk with snark of his own, but as a look back over the last two days...there was nothing to smile about. Still in his tight grasp, he turned forward, looking away from Sylvain.

"A lot of things I don't really care to repeat." He looked off to the side as he recalled what his days consisted of. "I slept a lot, spoke to your co-pilot, spoke to my co-pilot, and cried throughout and in between most of it." He frowned, creasing his brow. "Nothing much I want to do again, but...I think a lot of it was needed."

Sylvain's heart twisted at Felix's admission. He knew his fiancé was emotional but the thought of him crying for even a second without Sylvain there to comfort him was one second too many.

While he didn't turn Felix's head back, Sylvain did rest his palm gently on his cheek. "You talked to Dorothea? I'm...I'm glad you weren't alone, Fe."

Felix nodded, letting Sylvain's hand stay as it was. "Don't be too impressed. I didn't seek anyone out. I didn't have a choice." Felix thought back to the two interactions, letting out a huff of air. "Dorothea is pushy and she invaded my table when I finally needed to go eat. But," he paused for a moment, "I needed to hear what she had to say. And I'm glad she took it upon herself to approach me."

To be honest, he didn't know if he would be ready to forgive Sylvain had it not been for her explanations.

"'Pushy' is one way to put it, I guess, yeah. Looks like you escaped her in one piece, though."

He couldn't help but wonder what they'd spoken about, though he wasn't about to ask. Presumably, it wasn't about Sylvain's prowess in bed--he'd been so shitfaced at the time that he barely felt it and had only the ugly bruises and gashes on his knuckles to remind him that it had happened at all. 

He dipped his head to nose at Felix's cheek, then planted a tiny kiss at his temple. "She give you a whole speech about what a disappointment I am?"

The sweet gesture with the self-deprecating words made him pull back incrementally, turning up his nose in distaste. "I said it was something I needed to hear and was glad for it. Why would I say any of those things if that's what she had to say? She knew better than that and she's probably the one that put me in a better frame of mind to understand what was going through your head. Both of them."

He didn't mean to get as animated as he did, but his emotions were still running high apparently. He shook his head, trying to calm down.

"I probably don't need to tell you this, but she's a lot like you. But...she laid out a foundation so I could kind of see the situation through your lens and just not my own."

The last thing Felix thought he would do was get defensive about Dorothea for her sake. These really were strange times.

Hearing Felix speak about Dorothea in a way that was anything other than scathing was a shock. Sylvain pulled back slightly, chastened, and ran a sheepish hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I guess we are pretty similar. Hate to admit it, but now that you point it out, I guess I have no choice." While he'd derided Dorothea for being pretty and brainless, Sylvain knew that those ugly thoughts were actually directed at himself. "I'm guessing she told you about why she got reassigned to me? In which case, I'm jealous, because no matter how many times I asked, she'd never tell me."

"Be jealous then," he snapped back, though not unkindly. "She's different from what I thought. But, I think that just makes her more similar to us. And really, I think she's sad and jealous of what we have." At this, Felix laced their fingers together, holding his hand tightly.

"She didn't say as much and I'm not the best at people, but I got that from her. Not jealous of me for having you...but of us and that what we have is something worth saving and that we have the time and ability to save."

Of course, that could've just been his interpretation and he could be way far off, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter. He was here in Sylvain's arms, his hand in his. He was right where he needed to be. 

The thought of Dorothea being jealous of what they had tracked, but sad? The unusual word caught Sylvain's attention and he began to smooth his thumb across the back of Felix's hand in slow, rhythmic strokes. He felt another little tug at his heart as he imagined Felix and Dorothea confiding in each other in the mess hall and wished he'd been there. But, of course, his absence was no one's fault but his own.

"So can we save this, Fe? Are we saving this?" He drew a shallow, shuddering breath and drew closer still, paralyzed by the fear of being alone again.

He drew their combined hands into his chest, in essence wrapping Sylvain’s arm around him again. “I don’t want to lose this. I can’t lose you, not again.” There was a desperation and a weakness in his voice that made Felix ill.

Felix dipped his head down, resting his chin on their hands. “I’ll fight like fucking hell for you, Sylvain.”

There was something tense and anxious in Felix's voice when he spoke, something that reignited Sylvain's instinct to protect him. He rested his chin on top of Felix's head and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of their breathing and the ocean below.

"Me too, Fe," Sylvain reassured him. Then he took Felix's left hand in both of his own with a little grin and ran his fingers over the battered plastic loop. "You still kept this, huh?" The hair elastic wrapped around his own finger was threatening to cut off circulation, but Sylvain had quickly decided that he'd happily sacrifice the digit.

There was something to be said of the feeling of Sylvain at his back. Head under his chin, Felix felt more comfortable and secure than he’d likely admit to.

Felix nodded as his left hand was held, looking at where Sylvain had directed his attention. “I went back and got it.” He twisted his hand, looking at the taped back. “Looks like shit though, doesn’t it?”

It did, in fact, look like shit, Sylvain thought to himself as he brought Felix's hand up to his lips. 

"Well, I can't say it's anything close to what you deserve," he murmured, feeling more than a little choked up that Felix had gone back for it, even after their horrible fight. "Guess we'll have to get real rings." 

And god, didn't that idea send a happy little thrill through his entire being? A tangible, perfect symbol announcing to the universe that he belonged to someone, that someone did want him. 

The off-statement had Felix blushing far more than he should've been. What Sylvain said, it didn't warrant such a ferocious heat that came to his cheeks, but goddamn if it wasn't there...

"We don't have to," he began. "...This isn't some...I'm not some person that needs a fancy ring or something otherwise to prove you love me...I know you do."

"I know you're not, Fe," Sylvain said as he cuddled Felix close to his chest.  "And you don't have to wear one at all if you don't want to. But I guess I kinda like how it feels to see one on you, you know? I never thought it was anything I even wanted until we stole that bottle of 'Jackie D' and we got the idea." 

I would follow you to Hell and back a thousand times over, and I would smile every time, Sylvain thought as he nuzzled Felix's neck, falling silent for a moment.

"And I think there are still quite a few people who haven't been officially introduced to Sylvain Fraldarius," he added with a smile that was just a touch shy.

He looked smugly at the piece of torn plastic and dirty tape, "I make it look good, huh?" He gave a bemused laugh before settling in to look at the unintentionally important piece. Felix gave a small nudge to the man who encompassed him. Felix looked to his side at Sylvain, "You still want to be a Fraldarius? You want others to know you are mine ?"

Felix did make it look good, but Sylvain had a strong suspicion he already knew that. He also suspected that Felix knew good and goddamn well that Sylvain was serious, but he said it again just the same.

"More than anything in the world, Fe. That's all I want." And what a novel concept that would be--no longer being a Gautier, and also no longer being on the market in any capacity. How could he possibly pass that up?

Like most, perhaps even more than most, Felix needed reassurance. That was something that somehow fit the two of them right down to their shoes. When one was in doubt, the other, regardless of topic, would calm and assure them.

They did that perfectly now. Sylvain’s reassurances served a higher purpose than giving an answer he already knew, it served to ground them both.

Felix patted the side of Sylvain’s head, affection clear in his voice and touch. “Then we’ll get something better than what we have. Mine’s going to disintegrate and yours,” Felix looked at his bruised-looking skin, “I want you to have all ten digits.”

Sylvain made a pleased little sound in the back of his throat at the pat and lunged in to kiss Felix. "We should probably get dressed and get going then, handsome," he purred. "It's getting fucking cold out here."

He reluctantly disentangled himself from Felix to straighten his clothing and stand, but he never strayed far, always within finger's reach.

If the goosebumps on his skin was any indication, yeah, they needed to get the hell out of there.

Felix nodded, allowing Sylvain to get up unencumbered, following suit thereafter. He fixed his clothes, noting the grate marks still on his knees as he took in the surroundings. This place had been where he had gone for solitude and space. When his eyes then fell again on Sylvain, somehow, the location seemed better than it had been previously.

But that begged the question, how did he know?

 

Chapter 32: M.A.D.

Summary:

"Then let's not hurt each other anymore, okay, Fe?"

Chapter Text

Felix led their precarious descent back indoors. Once out of the chill, Felix rubbed his hands together warming them. “I didn’t ask. But how did you know where I was?”

"Dimitri paid me a visit," Sylvain said casually, drawing Felix close to him for warmth. "Told me he last saw you up on the tower." He left out the part where he'd been damn ready to smash the man's face in, how Dimitri hadn't even flinched when Sylvain, unwashed and miserable, had opened the door to snarl at him.

"Honestly, I was happy to see him," Sylvain continued. "I hadn't spoken to anybody in almost two days and I was pretty sure he was the Angel of Death or something. But instead of bashing my idiot head in, he told me to go find you."

Bring back Fe. The words echoed in Sylvain's mind even now.

Felix easily went in closer to Sylvain when he was gathered. When he spoke, he looked up at Sylvain, surprised. Well, it made sense that Dimitri had to be involved somehow, he was the only one he had told, but the fact that he paid a visit to Sylvain, that was the kicker.

No, the kicker was the information he skimmed right over, true to form for the man-glossing over his own struggles as if they were of no consequence or concern. Felix wrapped his arm at his waist, squeezing. “Wait a second. We’ll get to Dimitri. You hadn’t spoken to anyone? What do you mean?”

"Well, right after Dorothea left and you and I had our fight, I decided I didn't feel like being around people. So I didn't. And nobody came by to bother me so I kind of lost track of time, I guess."

The solitude had been wholly unexpected and unwelcome. On any given day, Sylvain usually found himself surrounded with people chattering to and about him, but once he stopped being available, once people had to come to him? Radio silence like a tomb, and he deserved every painful second of it.

Sylvain had a way of sweeping things to the side and lessening them when it concerned his own emotions. It was something Felix decided he hated. Tucking his head, he said in a muffled voice, “I’m sorry you were alone. And, I’m glad Dimitri went to you then.”

"It's okay, Fe. I think being alone for a while did me some good, you know? It...hurt. I needed that. I'm just glad he didn't bash in my gorgeous face, aren't you?" 

Sylvain nudged Felix gently and offered him a bright smile. The last thing he wanted was for the other man to go into a pity spiral, especially when Sylvain had been the one who'd fucked up.

It was understood between them that a certain kind of hurt was sought after. However, that didn't mean it needed to be a normal occurrence or that Felix couldn't be sorry for it. But, he said he thought it did him some good. Though it sounded odd to hear, Felix could only take him at his word. And so, he did. Felix nodded, an acquiescence to not understand, but to instead trust in Sylvain.

Felix nudged back, not exactly meeting his bright smile. "There would be a bigger problem if he harmed you. So you and he can be glad he didn't do something stupid like that."

Sylvain wondered for a moment what the "bigger problem" might have been, picturing a very angry Felix trying to beat Dimitri up. And probably winning, too. 

"Yeah, I really don't wanna fight him," Sylvain admitted softly. "He's a big bastard and looks like he hits hard. I'd prefer not to find out firsthand. I'm pretty glad he's on our side, to be honest."

Our side. It was accurate--for all the agony Sylvain had seen in Dimitri's gaze, had heard in his voice,  the other man seemed nothing if not committed to Felix's happiness...which meant that regardless of his original intention, he was rooting for Sylvain, too.

Our side.

Yeah, Felix would agree with that. On the surface, Dimitri was an anomaly. Somehow worse at social cues than Felix himself, but incredibly intelligent, freakishly strong , and intensely loyal. Much like his brother, it didn't shock Felix to know that so many people flocked to him. At one time, the same could nearly be said of him; flocking wasn't exactly the mood that had led them to be together.

Felix shook his head. "He is and he does. I guess I'm relieved to hear it was a positive experience for you. He can be...aggressive and overprotective."

There was something he hadn't said though, wasn't there? Felix looked up at Sylvain, still wearing a smile, hating that he was going to ruin it. He started slowly, "Dima is a good man...he just is a lot sometimes. And I need to tell you, we kissed. Again."

"Yeah, I know you kissed. I also happen to know that I'm better. Dima can't compare, or so a little bird once told me." Sylvain cast a sidelong glance at Felix and the suggestion of a smile. "It doesn't bother me, Fe. And the only reason it did at first is because of how damn weird things were between the three of us. Like, beyond weird."

He couldn't help but wonder why Felix was bringing it up again, what new information he planned to bring to light. But their relationship had not only survived unfathomable amounts of bullshit so far; it had actually gotten stronger. All things considered, Sylvain wasn't too terribly worried.

Felix brows scrunched and his mouth went into a line. "Well, yeah you knew that. But yesterday. We kissed yesterday." Felix felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment or shame or some combination thereof.

He looked up at Sylvain. Felix didn't feel like he needed to apologize for it, but there was an added pressure for him to understand what happened. "He kissed me and I let him."

Sylvain exhaled long and slow. The news both was and was not a surprise to him--yesterday, he and Felix had no longer been a thing. Sylvain had no claim to Felix, and he didn't want to get upset again.

"Fe, I'm not mad about that. I mean, I guess I would've been more confused if something like that hadn't happened. But...are you okay?" The idea of Felix just letting anyone do anything to him didn't sit well with Sylvain and he took Felix's chin gently in his hand, studying him with a worried expression.

Felix let his chin be gently guided up, meeting curious eyes. The soft way that only Sylvain could look at him sent a shot straight to his heart. He nodded, relishing the care in which he was both held and beheld.

"I am. I wasn't at the time, but that wasn't because of him. I just, I wasn't in a good state. And I think it was meant to be a comforting thing at first and we kissed and...nothing. I just didn't feel anything. I was just there. But that's how I've felt until you came up to find me again."

Nothing. Sylvain nodded in understanding, reflecting silently on the similarity to his ill-fated hookup with Dorothea. While Sylvain had never been particularly good at keeping his brain and body connected during sex, the act had never been so utterly sensationless for him as it was that night. At first, he'd thought it was shock, grief, anger...and that was probably part of it.

"I had to come find you, Fe," he said after a long moment. "Without you...nothing felt right. Nothing. And I knew there was at least a decent chance you'd throw me off the tower, but even that would've been better than whatever half-life I would have had without you."

Felix huffed a dry laugh that ended as a choked sob. "Don't just say shit like that." Felix launched himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Sylvain's waist, crushing himself against him. He knew exactly what it was. He had felt the exact same thing Felix had felt. The realization both warmed his heart and dashed it in one fell swoop.

His voice was nearly a pained whisper now. "You're so stupid. Hurting you is just the same as hurting myself. I couldn't do anything like that..."

Sylvain couldn't resist using Felix's momentum to lift him up, engulfing him in an embrace so fierce that his shoulders popped with the effort. He cupped the back of Felix's neck in his hand and drew him close to whisper in his ear.

"Then let's not hurt each other anymore, okay, Fe?"

The gentleness of his own voice startled him; as a general rule, vulnerability was something he tried to avoid, and yet Felix was able to pull it out of him in droves every time.

Chapter 33: Appetites and Apathy

Summary:

"Was it 'Thea who made you lose your appetite?" he asked with a smirk. "Or something else? Anyway, I'm glad you've been eating, at least."

Chapter Text

Felix was easily lifted as his feet left the ground as he hung heavily (for him) in Sylvain's grasp. The soft whisper had a raw quality that he had not oft heard, which was likely for the best since it twisted his heart in the most pleasurably painful way.

He shook his head as much as the hand at the back of his neck would allow.

"No more, Sylvain. We're partners. We work together." He followed it a moment later with an awkward addendum, "Not work work, but, I mean, we do technically work together, but not..." He let out a frustrated grunt against the crook of Sylvain's neck, going even more boneless in his arms. " You know what I meant. "

"Hey, don't get your honey where you get your money," Sylvain quipped as he pecked three staccato kisses to Felix's cheeks. "But I'm still holding out hope that once we make this whole crazy thing official, they'll have no choice but to put us back together."

With a roguish grin, he scooped Felix into his arms bridal-style, picked a random direction, and began to walk. "Even if they don't, I still get you all to myself every waking moment we're not in the cockpit." And if that didn't cause a new, giddy warmth to spread through Sylvain's chest, he didn't know what would.

"Pfft, that's not a fucking saying." If he wasn't certain before, Felix was certain now. The goddamn grin on his face, Sylvain had absolutely no reason or right to look as handsome as he did. But when it was directed only at Felix? It was impossible to be anything but compliant. "It's like a reverse Green Card marriage. We could try it."

Easily enough, Felix was now being carried like the fucking bride that he might have to be to get their co-pilot relationship reinstated, and he made his peace with that. Felix wrapped his arm around him to steady himself as Sylvain took them...wherever. It didn't matter.

"Every waking moment, hm? You sure about that?"

"Hey, I'll happily be your mail-order bride," Sylvain said, feeling exponentially lighter than he had just a few hours ago. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all. And I'm not above using my shitty father's clout to get what we want." His expression darkened, but only for a moment. There was no way he was going to let Margrave, of all people, ruin this happiness for him. He'd already spent a lifetime suffering and it was time to end it...or at least, try.

"And I mean the every waking moment, Fe. This is going to sound melodramatic as all hell, but it felt wrong not waking up with you there, or falling asleep with you in my arms." He cuddled Felix even closer to his chest as he walked, feet leading him in the direction of the mess hall of all places. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, though he had at least bothered with a shower before hunting Felix down.

Felix didn’t miss the quick, dark look that passed Sylvain’s face with the mention of the Gautier family. But he was far more preoccupied and interested in what he had to say next and the hard squeeze he got as a result.

“Melodramatic or not, I know what you mean.” Felix squeezed his arms around Sylvain’s neck. “But we can fix that tonight.”

Circling back with a dismissive tone, Felix added, “I inherited all my family’s money, we can do what we want. Fuck your family’s clout. You’ll be a Fraldarius.” It wasn’t often, but, he spoke the last part with pride that he hadn’t had for his family name in quite some time.

Sylvain felt himself melt just a little at the fierce declaration and squeezed Felix back as he shouldered open the door to the mess hall.

"Ah, so you're filthy-fucking-rich too, then? We can be shitlords together!" he cackled, finally putting Felix down when they were inside. "And...I cannot stress to you enough, Fe, how beyond ready I am to no longer be a fucking Gautier."

“Sylvain and Felix Fraldarius. Notorious shitlords.”

Felix nodded as he got his footing. They had a habit of interspersing emotional heavy subjects with simple topics. It was an odd juxtaposition of themes, but it went with their rhythm. Though, the fact they had reached their destination, Felix would finish his piece before chowing down because they sure as shit hadn’t been eating regularly.

Felix rose up quickly to his toes, planting a kiss to Sylvain’s cheek. “Together. You’re my family and I’m your family now. That’s all we need to worry about.”

Sylvain beamed down at his fiancé, unable to find the words to express just how much comfort the simple statement brought him. He dipped his head and planted a matching kiss on Felix's cheek before leading him to the line.

At this time of night, the mess hall was mostly empty and the food looked mostly fresh, which was a blessing. Sylvain noted with some amusement that it was the same meal they'd had when they first met. When Felix, in an uncharacteristic display of boldness, had actually come on to Sylvain first and kicked off the whole beautiful mess.

"Family. That's the first time I've liked the sound of that word, Fe," he said as he grabbed two trays for them.

“Good then. It’s…it’s good with you.” Felix grabbed the tray from Sylvain, not bothering to pick and choose as they went down the line. For once, the food smelled good. Not only did it smell good, but it looked good too. Alarmingly so…best not question it.

After his tray was filled, he walked to a back table where he took a seat. When Sylvain sat, Felix asked, “When’s the last time you ate? I think I might be dying or something, because this food… I’m looking forward to it?

"Right? " Sylvain said with a laugh. "I never thought I'd actually willingly eat this mystery meat shit, but here we are." He sliced off a small piece, sniffed it, and grimaced. That was a mistake. But he popped it into his mouth all the same, trying to chew as little as possible.

"I think I probably ate, like, shortly before that party. The one where we absolutely slaughtered that bottle of whatever-the-fuck-it-was. You?"

Felix didn’t stop to chew before answering with an entirely too full mouth, “‘at wash ‘oo ‘ays ago, ‘ylvain! EAT!”

And as if it would help get food into Sylvain’s gut, Felix took a couple more quick bites, swallowing it all, and washing it down with a big swig of water. “Fucking knock-off, janky Jack Daniels.” He took another sip as he thought back, “Yesterday, I think. I picked at some shit, but that was when Dorothea can over. I lost my appetite as soon as I got here anyways.”

"I know it was two days ago, Felix!" Sylvain shot back playfully, defiantly spearing three pieces of meat in quick succession and jamming them into his mouth before swallowing them mostly whole, not unlike a python. He really did not want to have an eating contest with Felix, especially since he hadn't eaten in two days (which was both true and horrifying).

"Was it 'Thea who made you lose your appetite?" Sylvain asked with a smirk. "Or something else? Anyway, I'm glad you've been eating, at least."

Felix's brows shot to his hairline as he watched Sylvain, who was somehow able to swallow such big pieces of meat without chok--this shouldn’t have been a surprise.

Instead of the mental image that was Sylvain below him expertly swallowing his meat… ahem …Felix turned his attention to the question asked.

“Seeing her didn’t help shit right off the bat. But, even after it turned out to be a decent talk, I wasn’t hungry. I think I was more trying to distract myself if that makes sense.”

"Makes total sense," Sylvain said around a mouthful of food, completely oblivious to Felix's filthy inner monologue. "What did she have to say, anyway?"

He slid his hand across the table to take Felix's, abandoning his meal for the moment to gaze into Felix's eyes, searching for answers.

Felix chewed for a minute. How best to describe the experience that was his talk with Dorothea…

“She had a lot to say actually. A lot about her which…I think is how she knew a lot about you.” The more Felix thought about their conversation, the more he realized that what she was saying seemed to be gleaned from personal experience rather than actual experience with Sylvain.

“She put it to me in a way I could understand that…sex to you, generally isn’t the same way I see it. Sex is only sex unless it means something. And,” he hesitated, hating that he had to vocalize this, “…the only sex I’ve had has been with you and even since the first time, it’s always meant something.”

Felix busied himself with more food, poking around at the tray. “That was really the gist of it.” The parts about her and Edelgard, well, that was interesting, but not pertinent to his story.

Sylvain listened intently, hyperaware of his partner's body language as he spoke. Felix appeared to be grappling with some hard truths about him, but it was better for him to understand. 

"I'm glad she helped," he said softly. "She's a snoop, sure, but it sounds like she had some good insights. And you know all that's in the rearview, Fe. Even during our first time, I...it meant so much that it actually scared me." 

By the time he finished, his voice was just barely above a whisper.

Felix watched Sylvain as he spoke, nearly leaning forward as his voice slipped into nearly a whisper. Before he had the opportunity to say anything else, Felix asked, “It did? It scared you?”

It had been something he’d said to Dorothea. He thought their first time together was special, something unique to the both of them. But, that was something that was tempered down by his own mind, he had come from a completely different mindset and maybe that was the reason for it. So to hear Sylvain say it…that was something else.

"It did," Sylvain continued, courage bolstered by Felix's response. He wasn't sure why he'd been expecting judgment, but the complete absence was balm to the soul. "It scared me because I have never in my life, not once, had meaningful sex. Not until you, Fe. It was...overwhelming, and wonderful, and terrifying all at once."

Sylvain wasn't used to baring his soul, not like this. But it needed to be said, especially now. He studied Felix's face carefully, watching him digest the information.

As he had told Sylvain that night, he had nothing to compare it to. And sure they had sex many times since then, it never felt any different to Felix. But, he knew Sylvain. And he knew he was being truthful. Hearing something so raw and him being so vulnerable, it couldn’t be anything but true.

But Felix was still curious. “How did you know it was different? Or I guess, that I was? Has sex never overwhelmed you before?”

The last question…he wished he could take back. He didn’t want to go anywhere dark right now and that was a slippery slope between them.

"No," Sylvain said simply. "It was always just me and...whoever using each other's bodies for temporary respite from the goddamn existential horror of it all, I guess." He gave a shrug and a little half-chuckle, but there was no mirth in it. "Not all that different than masturbating, I guess. Just extra steps and too much messiness."

He cast his gaze downward and lightly drummed his fingers on the table, suddenly ashamed to meet Felix's open, trusting gaze. He'd thought he had moved past the self-loathing, the feeling of being worthless and dirty, but here they were all the same.

“Oh."

There was no judgment in Felix's voice, only mild confusion. He watched Sylvain as he looked away and began to fidget. He’d give him a moment to compose himself, but any longer and Felix wouldn’t hesitate to drag Sylvain back from whatever precipice he was poised over.

Trying to process it, Felix asked, “Did it ever work? The break from…all this shit?”

"It did at first." Sylvain couldn't even remember the last time sex had done anything other than make him go temporarily numb. He must have been extraordinarily young. "But it wore off pretty quick and, well, I just kept chasing that dragon."

It was a bitter admission and the words tasted foul in his mouth, but they needed to be said.

“Huh.” 

‘You know how sometimes you hear a word a bunch of times and it stops sounding like a word? Now imagine that the word that's not a word was the first word you ever learned.'

Dorothea’s words came back to him in a wave, collecting power, taking shape before his very eyes. He still didn’t understand it all, but at least he understood he didn’t understand it, but he was beginning to.

Though he hadn’t ever held his past against him, from how Sylvain framed it…it made sense. “I can see the draw then," he mused aloud, giving voice to his inner monologue. “You opened yourself up to others in a way I’ve never been able to.”

"No, Fe, I didn't open up at all. That's the thing. I shut down."

Sylvain wasn't quite sure how to get it through to him, but he couldn't blame Felix--he had said countless times that he had no baseline, no reference level for sex. All he'd ever known was intimacy, care. And while it brought Sylvain immense comfort to know he was capable of that, of making another person feel loved and safe, he was just the slightest bit bitter that it had taken so long to find it for himself.

"You know what Miklan did," he said simply.

Chapter 34: Dinner and a Movie

Summary:

“We can go see what they have on in the auditorium?” It was more of a question than suggestion. Felix hadn’t made it a point to spend much time in the makeshift movie theater, but going there after a meal wasn’t unheard of. And especially now, with how his food baby (Bernard) protruded, going to bed just wouldn’t suit either of them.

Chapter Text

You know what Miklan did.

Anything Felix was going to say died in his throat at Sylvain’s simple response. And how could it not? He knew and the knowledge of his violence, of his breach of trust, of the fucking irreversible damage that he caused Sylvain, it made Felix…well a few things. He wanted to protect him, shield him from all past and future pain. It made him angry. Angrier than he can ever recall being at any point in his life. Felix wanted retribution, to dole a similar brand of hurt. Make the poor excuse of a human understand what true pain is. Felix wanted to relish in administering the pain that would still not reach a fraction of what was deserved. All at the same time.

“You found a different way to shut people out. And this was it.”

"Pretty much, yeah. Guess I'm finally thawing out, though." Sylvain gave a lopsided smile and patted his hand. "And it's because of you, Fe. I stand by what I said before: they don't make mistakes. I don't believe in fate or any of that bullshit, but I do believe that we're very, very lucky to have found each other."

Sylvain finished up the last of his food and gently nudged his tray out of the way, then reached out to take Felix's other hand as well. "I can't promise I'll ever be whole, Fe. But I want to try."

Felix sat chewing silently as Sylvain spoke. After not being unique in anything in his life, to hear that he was something, someone that was special, was difficult for him.

“Sylvain…I’m just me and, you know I’m not a whole person either. Beyond that, you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” He gripped the hands that had sought out his own, finding Sylvain’s eyes with a hardened look. “I don’t need you to be whole. You’re the parts I need though, and I think I’m the parts you need. Together, we’re good enough to be complete. And…that’s good enough for me.”

At some point, he had taken to mirroring Sylvain’s proven calming tactic, rubbing soft circles into his hands, hoping he was on the side of comfort.

The touch calmed and reassured Sylvain, and in that moment he wasn't sure if he had ever loved Felix more.

"I guess you have to be at least kinda fucked up to get into this line of work," Sylvain mused, realizing just how few of their fellow cadets were well-adjusted humans who functioned in normal society. "We're all just a bunch of broken people looking for our missing pieces, and we fit, Fe."

He leaned across the table to kiss Felix slow and soft, the way he'd missed most. If anyone saw them, he didn't care.

And Felix couldn’t argue with anything he said. Not about the other cadets and definitely not about them.

He was more than happy to accept the slow, gentle kiss that, until that very moment, had been something Felix noticed he was sorely missing. He leaned forward, the tips of his fingers trailing along his jaw as he pulled away, breaking the kiss.

With a content smile that was foreign to his features, he spoke lowly, “Get enough?”

Sylvain's eyelids fluttered closed for a moment at the touch. Felix was constantly surprising him with how tender he could be, and Sylvain was realizing at the same time just how alike they were: light and dark. And they were here for each other no matter which side was showing.

"I'll never get enough of you," he breathed reverently, fingers brushing across Felix's bottom lip.

If Sylvain wasn’t such a fantastic pilot, he’d certainly do well as a politician or salesman, some other job where his silver tongue could be an asset.

Even as his cheeks flooded with heat, Felix nipped at the slow finger that thumbed at his lip before turning a shy smile at Sylvain. “I meant, did you get enough to eat?”

"Oh," Sylvain said, not the slightest bit embarrassed to have missed Felix's meaning because it meant he got to see that adorable rosy flush spread across his face. "Yeah, definitely. I actually feel kind of overstuffed, which is new."

He passed his thumb lovingly over Felix's flushed cheek, then replaced the finger with a kiss. "So, I volunteered us to come here and eat this shit. Where to next?" It felt as though they'd been apart forever, and Sylvain was eager to make up for all that lost time.

Overstuffed was right. For the first time ever on base, Felix felt like he actually needed time to digest.

“We can go see what they have on in the auditorium?” It was more of a question than suggestion. Felix hadn’t made it a point to spend much time in the makeshift movie theater, but going there after a meal wasn’t unheard of. And especially now, with how his food baby (Bernard) protruded, going to bed just wouldn’t suit either of them.

"Oh yeah! I forgot that there are fun things to do around here. Besides you, of course." Sylvain hadn't been to see a movie since his second week here, when he realized that he could score plenty of ass without the pretense of an actual date.

After stretching his back, he rose and scooped Felix gingerly into his arms. Carrying his partner around like the previous thing he was, was becoming something of an addiction for Sylvain.

"What's your favorite movie, Fe?" he asked, giving him a little kiss.

“Wait, wait, what are you--!”

Aaaaand up he went.

His arms locked instinctively around Sylvain’s neck as he began the trek for the both of them. Felix deadpanned, “We’re doing this now, aren’t we?”

There was a certain comfort in knowing that even when all eyes were on them, Sylvain was not deterred from his actions. Felix liked that Sylvain was his own man, not letting others dictate his ridiculousness.

Even so, Felix swatted at Sylvain’s nose playfully, “I should’ve corrected this behavior as a puppy.”

But to the question asked, Felix responded matter-of-factly, “I don’t think I have a favorite movie. Can’t remember the last one I even watched…what about you?”

"Yep, we're doing this now!" he answered cheerfully, large hands sliding down to shamelessly cup Felix's ass as he carried him. Sylvain had never really been one for clinging, and yet that was exactly what they were doing now. It was unnerving how much he liked it, how much he needed to have Felix as close as possible to him at all times. He knew Felix didn't really want to correct his behavior, though Sylvain certainly wouldn't have minded seeing what the 'correction' might have looked like.

"I don't think I even watched the last one I saw," he admitted. "I used to watch a lot of horror movies, though."

Sylvain’s statement didn’t really warrant a response. Even Felix was aware enough to understand what that referred to. So he let it pass without comment. The comment that possibly would’ve been something unnecessarily possessive, bordering on judgmental. But that was the thing with them. They were best together because they didn’t judge their past.

Felix perked up a mite when he continued on. “Yeah, horror or action movies. I like that. They’re fast and you don’t get bored. I hate shit that drags on.”

"Hey, Fe, how do you feel about rom-coms?" he asked slyly, already knowing the answer. Like most things in life, Sylvain was remarkably adept at pretending to enjoy things he hated; it was refreshing to be able to drop the pretense. Maybe the movie would be really awful and they could roast it together...the idea of bonding with Felix, no matter what the activity was, warmed his heart.

The auditorium was mostly empty, half-assed cadets scattered here and there. Sylvain chose a seat about a third of the way back and plopped himself down, still holding Felix in his lap.

Felix groaned from his soul. Romantic comedies. The lowest fucking form of media with the lowest common denominator. Cliché, sappy, shitty.

Not removing himself from Sylvain’s lap, he turned cupping his face gently, meeting his eyes. “I hate them with a passion and if you tell me you love them, I won’t marry you.”

There was no levity in his voice. It wasn’t a joke.

"Fe," he said seriously, looking unflinchingly into Felix's eyes, "there aren't enough words or enough time to express just how much I hate them. I've seen, like, two in my entire life that weren't terrible." And one that he'd actually kind of liked, but Felix's very real threat echoed in Sylvain's mind so he didn't voice the thought.

He stroked an idle hand up and down Felix's back as he pondered just how many terrible movies he'd seen in his day. "Any other deal breakers I should know about, in addition to rom-coms?" he teased.

Reaching up, Felix met Sylvain’s forehead with a soft kiss. “Good boy.”

Felix wondered idly what movie was going to be shown. It wasn’t so much that Felix wondered if it would be one he liked than it was wondering whether it would be one he could stand. But..Sylvain’s hand up and down his back, something he could grab on to or kiss whenever, he might be able to stomach more things than he thought.

He leaned back into the calming passes of Sylvain’s hand. “Deal breakers. I don’t have a list prepared. But I’ll tell you as they come up.” Though he didn’t pull away from Sylvain’s touch, his voice did take a harder edge. “You know two things now.” He nuzzled back, carving a shape for himself into the larger man, “I’ll keep you updated. What about you? What do I need to avoid or add?”

No one had ever asked Sylvain about deal breakers before, and he realized that it was because he'd never actually been in a relationship before, either. He pondered the question for a moment, mulling over how his answer might have been different only a few days ago.

"I mean, maybe don't fuck anyone else," he said awkwardly after a moment. He'd never been good at asking for things, let alone commitment. "And if you like Margrave, that's probably a bad sign. But that's it, really. Just...love me, Fe." He hated how weak and soft his voice sounded and flicked his eyes up to the screen, which had lit up.

Felix watched the many changing moods and faces of Sylvain as he spoke, before turning his attention to the screen that must’ve lit up. Felix’s eyes never left him. 

“Hey,” he whispered. He brought Sylvain’s hand up, raising a finger with each point. “Number one. Done.” Felix responded immediately and without hesitation in his voice or in his heart. “Two. The only reason for me not to hate the Margrave is because he gave me you. So don’t worry about that.” Raising the third and final digit, he brought them to his lips, kissing each, sealing their three-set code. “I don’t know how not to love you.” As Felix held Sylvain’s fingers to his mouth, a raw sensation came over him, threatening to overwhelm him. Felix did truly love him…

The record scratch was a goddamn welcomed addition. Felix wrenched his head around just in time to see Brad Pitt's name on the screen. “Holy shit, they’re playing Fight Club.”

Chapter 35: Copy of a Copy

Summary:

"Now watch the movie, Fe," he chided. He crooked his right arm around Felix's shoulder and dropped his left down to rest on his hipbone, thumbing idly at the waistband of his pants as he watched Brad Pitt ride a bicycle straight into a wall.

Chapter Text

The record scratch was a goddamn welcomed addition. Felix wrenched his head around just in time to see Brad Pitt's name on the screen. “Holy shit, they’re playing Fight Club.”

 

"Fuck yes!" Sylvain exclaimed, though the tender moment was still at the forefront of his mind, just like he could still feel the memory of Felix's lips against his fingers. "Single-serving friends, Fe! And long-term lovers," he added. "Til the day I die."

Then he was immediately sucked into the film, mesmerized by the story even though he'd seen it dozens of times. When the "I want you to hit me as hard as you can" scene began, he leaned in and gave Felix a tiny nip to the earlobe, wondering if he'd remember.

And like that, there were two pairs of captive eyes. Although it had been years since he had last seen it, Felix could nearly recite the movie line by line.

Felix was completely engrossed in the film until one line came directly to his ear, accompanied by a sharp nip. Felix parroted the next line as Tyler Durden spoke it, “I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”

He snaked his hand back, pressing low and firm on Sylvain’s abdomen where a bruise still bloomed from his fist as he spoke the line.

A chill ran through his body that had little to do with the movie and far more to do with the man at his back. What they had shared…what Felix had done…it all came back to him in vivid detail. Not that it had strayed from his mind…it was beyond intimate and Felix hadn’t been able to forget it. 

Sylvain released a soft whimper at the press of Felix's hand against the bruise, which was still blooming an angry blue across his stomach. He wrapped his arms around Felix's waist and pressed his chin down into his shoulder, trying to focus on the screen. 

"You hit my ear! " he laughed along with Brad Pitt, then flicked the tip of his tongue out against the sensitive spot just behind Felix's lobe. "That was a mistake, you know. Ed Norton threw the punch wrong."

Felix shifted giving Sylvain more real estate over his shoulder as he continued the iconic lines, parts be damned, “Guess I fucked it up. No it was perfect!

He answered Sylvain with muted amusement, “I heard that was a rumor about the film, yeah. But isn’t Norton big on method acting? He’s just that shitty at throwing a punch.”

"He is, and apparently he's a huge asshole, which is a shame. I watched a ton of his stuff when I was a kid. I still think this is his best, though. We are all Jack's simmering existential dread on this blessed day."

He chuckled into Felix's neck, lips moving against warm skin as he spoke. "You throw a pretty good punch yourself, you know."

“I know,” he answered automatically. “You’ve yet to see a real good one.” Felix was very aware of his fists and how to get the most out of his small frame when he wanted to hit something or someone. But that was something he had long been intimately familiar with.

The (unfortunate) information about Edward Norton though, that took precedence in his mind. “Really? That fucking sucks. Because same, I really liked a lot of the stuff he’s done.”

"Never meet your heroes," he said smoothly. "But, I mean, H.P. Lovecraft wrote some decent horror and look at what he named his cat. I feel like it's okay to separate the art from the artist, to a certain point."

Resigned, Felix commented, “That’s a saying for a reason, I guess.”

Sylvain realized that he was also obliquely, speaking about himself, so he changed the topic. "Say, Fe, does the soap thing freak you out? Or do you think it's a solid business strategy? Stealing fat from clinics, I mean."

Pivoting right with Sylvain, Felix scrunched his nose in distaste. “I mean. Why can’t it be both? It freaks me out, yeah. But it’s a solid strategy. I’m just not the one to do it.” He nudged Sylvain. “Don’t be so closed minded. It worked out so well for them.” His huff of laughter was barely audible.

Felix readjusted himself for a second before stopping to lean back against Sylvain, looking to the sides at the empty chairs. “Are you sure you aren’t uncomfortable? This was cute or whatever, but I don’t have to sit here through this fucker if it sucks.”

Sylvain braced Felix's thighs with his hands as he repositioned himself. True, Felix's ass was somewhat bony and it was a tight squeeze with both of them in the chair, but he was reluctant to let go for any reason. Object permanence was not something that came easily or naturally to Sylvain, and the terror of almost losing Felix was still fresh.

"Whatever's most comfortable for you, Fe," Sylvain said, shifting so Felix could recline against his chest. "Are you trying to tell me you think we should leave a little room for Jesus?"

When Felix asked if Sylvain was comfortable, Felix was given a free pass to move. He should’ve expected it, really. Even when given the opportunity, it was still Sylvain’s modus operandi to deny himself and not do anything for his own satisfaction that went beyond physical gratification. And now, Felix saw it.

Question sufficiently unanswered , Felix responded “I told you before. There’s no God and no Jesus here.” He squirmed for a second, not completely unintentionally pressing his ass back before taking the space Sylvain allowed him. “Just me and I told you before too, you’re comfortable to me.”

"So you did," Sylvain said, just a little breathless at the subtle yet insistent drag of Felix's body as he made himself comfortable. He bent one knee, resting his foot on the seat of the chair, and drew Felix snugly between his legs. The way Felix constantly checked in on him was both heartwarming and unnerving--Sylvain had simply never had anyone in his life who cared so much. Or even a little, for that matter.

"Now watch the movie, Fe," he chided. He crooked his right arm around Felix's shoulder and dropped his left down to rest on his hipbone, thumbing idly at the waistband of his pants as he watched Brad Pitt ride a bicycle straight into a wall.

Felix's chuckle in response to Brad Pitt crashing into a wall ended with a small inhale when Sylvain’s large hand found its way to his hip which they had painstakingly determined to be a sensitive area.

His body stiffened for a fraction before calming under his touch. Scooting back even closer, Felix interlaced the fingers of their right hands and rested his left on Sylvain’s outstretched thigh. “Yeah, yeah. I’m watching.”

The short, sharp intake of breath did not go unnoticed and Sylvain's lips quirked in a smile. It was always fun to toy with Felix, especially when they were in public. Especially-especially when they were supposed to be doing other things.

"Mmhm," he said simply, squeezing Felix's hand. For a while he sat in silence, fingertips stroking contemplatively over his partner's hip in a steady, soothing rhythm. Then he broke the silence to ask, "Hey, Fe, what's your take on Marla Singer?"

Sylvain’s repetitive motions at his hip did what they always did and soothed Felix like it was his job. 

When next he spoke, Felix remained silent. He watched their topic of conversation relish the fact that she hadn’t been fucked that well since grade school. And still afterwards, Felix was quiet, just watching the film tick on.

“Marla’s just as real as Tyler. And she ends up winning.” It was a massive oversimplification but one that Felix thought would at least speak to the vague question that was asked. “There’s, nuances. I like Helena Bonham Carter. I don’t think anyone else could do it.“ He wasn’t one to analyze films or other artistic endeavors, far from it. But there was something about her portrayal that Felix unfortunately related to.

"I agree. Like, I read the book way before I ever saw the movie and I swear, I was picturing Helena the entire time. She's perfect. Like, Marla is a total mess but you kind of root for her, you know? She's like the Final Girl that way."

Felix nodded along, enjoying the tight grasp that he found himself in. “I didn’t know you read the book before seeing it. You were right on the money then.”

Sylvain's hand stilled its motion and he simply held the other man, taking comfort in how solid, how real it all felt.

"That copy of a copy of a copy thing, though...I felt that way a lot before we met."

“The copy of a copy of a copy thing. That was something that you felt?” Felix couldn’t say he was surprised to know such a thing, but to say it out loud, to admit it not only to himself but to another, it deserved some prodding. Even in a theater.

Squeezing his hands back, Felix kept looking at the screen, at the house that just got shittier and more dilapidated scene by scene. “Tell me about it if you want.”

"It's something I still feel a lot," he said quietly, looking down at their intertwined fingers. "Like nothing's quite real, like I'm not quite real. Guess that's why I spent so long destroying myself...just to feel things."

Sylvain sighed. This was not the direction he'd expected or wanted "dinner and a movie" to go, but something told him it was necessary. He knew how sensitive Felix was, how deeply he felt things. Sylvain had already felt them; why should he pass them on secondhand to the only person he'd ever loved?

"Fe, you've seen what's inside me, what I coexist with. You don't make it out of things like that without going a little numb. It's okay. It kept me alive, and I got to meet you."

Felix kept his posture straight, still trained on the screen. “I don’t get how you did it.” The idea honestly made Felix’s skin crawl. He couldn’t see opening himself up like Sylvain, but he didn’t go through, well, any of the shit that he was subjected to and he couldn’t judge him for it.

“But,” he continued, “I get why .” He shifted closer, every part of him, pressing into Sylvain, grounding each other. “I get going numb. That’s…that’s something I still do to block out the shit. Being numb to everything is better than being open to the pain.”

Over the years, Felix had learned how to compartmentalize. Grief, pain, trauma, they all had their designated spaces within him and if there were ever times he felt close to feeling those feelings again, he would turn off. He’d be a shell and Sylvain had front seat tickets to that show. “It’s coping and a survival tactic. I get that…I’m sorry that you have to do it, but I’m glad it worked for you when you needed.”

Sylvain gave a soft, sardonic chuckle. "Yeah, I'm sorry about it, too. But it's pretty much all I've ever known, so I try not to stress about it. Just wired different, you know?"

The more Felix spoke, the more Sylvain relaxed. A large part of the reason he never spoke about personal shit was because people inevitably responded with "I'm sorry" or "You're so brave." And it was a shame, really, because Sylvain wasn't brave at all.

"I'm glad it worked, too. And like I said, Fe, I feel things with you. My god, you have no idea how rare that is for me."

Many of the things Sylvain now spoke about rang uncomfortably true and close to home for Felix. When he responded, the words that came to him now were some of the things he wished and needed to hear himself. “Being wired differently doesn’t make you wrong by default.” 

“I think I’m starting to get how rare it is then. And how lucky I am to have you.” Felix let out a huff of air as he shook his head, “I can’t not feel things with you.” He took the opportunity to close his eyes and fall into the steady rhythm of Sylvain’s chest as it rose and fell. “I feel you. And that’s what’s real to me.”

" FelixIloveyou. "

The words came out in a rush, as though Sylvain suddenly had the sense that they were running out of time. And perhaps they were--they all were, really.

Focus. Come back to me.

He leaned down to press his cheek to Felix's, desperate for a way to soothe himself, ground himself. To feel something, which always, always brought him back. When he looked up, he noticed that the credits were rolling and that people were getting up, but he didn't mind. They were having a moment, and he wasn't about to cut it short.

The burst from Sylvain surprised Felix, as did his smushed cheek. The theater’s occupants were filing out as the credits rolled, but they didn’t move. Both of Felix’s hands went to the opposite side of Sylvain’s face, adding more pressure.

“I love you back, Sylvain.” Feeling him, Felix felt the barrel chest at his back rise and fall in shallow breaths, an erratic staccato. It was panic.

“Stay with me. I’m right here.”

Stay with me.

Sylvain wrapped his arms tightly around Felix's midsection, abandoning his hand's former suggestive position on the crook of his thigh. He closed his eyes and breathed in Felix: salty like the sea, spicy, warm. Safe.

I'm right here.

"Thank you," he choked out. "For, you know. I know this is ugly. It's a really, really bad look." His voice was tight with anxiety and self-loathing.

“Hush.”

Felix breathed through his nose and out his mouth, trying to remain calm and composed for the both of them. “You know I like how you look, but I don’t care how you look.”

Keeping one hand up to his face, he took his other hand, covering over his arm around his waist. “Don’t thank me. I’m with you…better or worse. Dark and light.”

"I'm always gonna thank you, Fe, so you better get used to it." Sylvain's voice was starting to relax into its usual warm, casual tone. He still didn't know how the hell Felix was able to bring him back so quickly every time. No one had ever been able to bring him back, period. Not even Sylvain himself.

He pressed a long, lingering kiss to Felix's lips and favored him with a small smile. "I want to be sure I'm here for you too, though. I don't want this to be one-sided. I want you to always feel safe to show me your dark, too. Because I'm not scared of the dark."

Seeing the easy smile come back to his face, Felix hummed contentedly. “I’m used to you being stubborn .” Felix leaned naturally into the kiss. Somewhere in the back of his mind Felix made a mental note of how exactly easy it was now to be with him.

He shook his head. “I do feel that way and I trust you.” He dropped his gaze, speaking in a small voice, “I’m scared of it.”

"Not as stubborn as you," he shot back playfully. "I don't think anyone is, Fe, and I love that about you. Never change, if you can help it. But if you do, I'll love that side of you, too."

Felix's softness and ferocity came by dizzying turns and Sylvain was utterly addicted to it. While Sylvain tended to be the one accused of passions, he knew that Felix secretly eclipsed him in that area tenfold.

He softened even more at the vulnerable admission. "Why are you scared?" Sylvain cupped his cheek, brushed his bangs away from his eyes, but didn't force Felix to look up. He knew that it needed to happen on his own time.

Felix let out a silent chuckle. That he and Sylvain had such an easy rapport, that he had that with anyone was surprising, but beyond comforting. 

The hand that cupped his cheek was also comforting, yet the topic figuratively at hand couldn’t have been further from that same feeling. Felix kept his gaze down. “When you go numb and blank, it’s hard to find the way back through the dark. Or if you even want to .”

Felix's words sent a stab of pain through Sylvain, but he couldn't deny that they rang true.

"I know what you mean," he said in a near-whisper. "I never wanted to come back until you found me, not really."

And it was true. For as long as he could remember, Sylvain had possessed a remarkably casual disregard for his own mortality. Until he met Felix, he went to bed nearly every night contemplating just how fine he would be with it if he didn't wake up the next day.

The whispered tone made him look up at Sylvain, searching his eyes. With such an admission, it touched Felix to have Sylvain say such things. That he could be someone’s anchor, someone’s reason …that was something brand new, and something he would cherish.

His voice was barely a whisper. “Have you ever taken steps to ensure that you didn’t come back?”

It was a question he didn't want to answer. He'd thought about it, certainly, especially when he was younger. But he'd been numb for so long that if the thought had crossed his mind, it was fleeting.

"Not since I was really young, but plenty of people have tried to do it for me," he said with another humorless laugh. "Almost succeeded a few times, too. Guess I fall under the Cockroach Index. Apparently, I'm really hard to kill."

None of what Sylvain said really required an answer. What was factual was factual and what was self-deprecating was just his way of dealing with it. He nodded, pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

Felix, himself began to feel anxious and moved to stand. He’d never spoken about his idealizations or attempts but, even coming this close to it, it took a lot out of him.

He said in a wavering voice, “Can we go? I don’t care where, just, not here please.”

Sylvain's heart plummeted at the tremulous note in Felix's voice. This was precisely why he never talked about it. It most certainly was not dinner-talk, and it tended to upset people even when he was delicate about it. 

He rose and cracked his back, then took Felix's hand to lace their fingers together, pressing their palms and wrists together. "Where we going, Fe?"

Felix’s cheeks warmed immediately. Even though Sylvain had asked him to share, he couldn’t help the creeping sensation of guilt. He was being weak, laying things past on Sylvain as if they had any bearing and now, it only served to ruin their night.

Felix took his hand freely, but didn’t make eye contact. Voice sounding defeated, “can we just go back to my room? I want to be alone with you, I’m sorry.”

The apology tore at Sylvain and he gathered Felix to his chest to plant little kisses all over his face in clusters of three, their secret signal.

"Don't ever apologize for asking for what you need, Fe," Sylvain said gently. He really needed to take his own advice, he thought as he led Felix back to the dorm and opened his door without invitation; there was no need for pretense between them, not anymore.

Chapter 36: Built Broken

Summary:

Sylvain continued to pet Felix's hair and murmur sweet, soothing nothings in his ear. After a while, he felt the tightly-coiled body nestled in his arms begin to relax and gave himself permission to relax a little, too. Maybe the storm was passing. The splay of Felix's hands across his chest was comforting, too, and Sylvain marveled at how easily they could mend each other.

Chapter Text

Sylvain made his way over to the bed and sat down, patting the mattress beside him.

"Come here. Talk to me."

The softness in which Sylvain spoke killed Felix. There was no question of compliance then when asked to do something. As such when Sylvain led them both to his room and asked him to join him, he did so without a second thought.

Looking out at the room, the bed was haphazard and unmade and a large, ripped shirt was folded at the edge of the bed. Felix scooted on to the bed next to Sylvain, hip to hip and side to side. He sat with his arms bolt straight, bracing the edge of the mattress.

“Thanks. I wasn’t feeling good there anymore. Sorry for messing it up.”

"Hey, don't apologize," Sylvain said again. He felt a stab of guilt; they'd been having a perfectly nice time before he, Sylvain, had left them into dangerous waters and derailed what should have been a happy moment for them.

He bundled Felix tenderly to his chest and pressed his lips to his forehead. For a moment Sylvain just held him, as if he could be shelter from the storm raging inside his head.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, the seldom-used pet name slipping out.

'Sweetheart.'

Sylvain had called him this once before, but the first time he heard the pet name uttered it was under completely different circumstances and to another person entirely. Though it was said with a saccharine quality then, there was nothing soft about Sylvain in that moment. His teeth were bared and muscles flexed restraining Dimitri, swiftly moving to do damage.

It was a scene he wouldn’t ever forget, especially being now cradled in those same arms that could wreak so much havoc. But now, being in them, he wasn’t afraid.

“You know how you would find other people to numb yourself? I go into myself. I was starting to get there.” He snaked his arms around the sturdy body at his side, gripping tightly, another tether. “I wanted you to get me out before I shut down and tried to do the same to you.”

It was odd hearing his most inner thoughts given life. The things that he had availed himself to for years, now spoken in his voice to another person was more than unexpected.

Sylvain's heart broke for Felix in a thousand different ways. A little whimper escaped him at the idea of Felix feeling all that pain, of feeling trapped inside himself.

"What can I do, Fe?" he asked, beginning to feel more than a touch desperate. "How can I bring you back?"

Dimitri's last words to him echoed in Sylvain's mind as his hands scrabbled for purchase along Felix's back and began to rub slow circles into the tense muscles. Bring Fe back.

Felix didn't miss the break in his voice and cursed himself for putting it there. Were he stronger, were he less absolutely fucked up , it wouldn’t be there. But for his fucking baggage, Sylvain wouldn’t be so worried, scrubbing at his back trying to make all the contact he could.

“I don’t know. You’re great letting me do this .” A dry laugh shook his body, loosening his hold around Sylvain. “I think I’m just built broken like this.”

If he didn’t believe it so thoroughly as the gospel of his life, Felix would probably make fun of the idea and himself for being as completely melodramatic as he was.

In response to Felix's waning grip, Sylvain held him tighter, running his fingertips over the notches of Felix's spine, his ribs. Wanting to touch...to make them both feel real . Sylvain nuzzled into him as he spoke, trying to comfort Felix any way he could.

"We're all built broken, Fe," he said simply. "But you and I? We fit, remember? Just two completely different broken pieces that somehow fit together perfectly."

The grasp Sylvain had on him was suffocating, and thank any and every higher power that it was. Felix wanted that. He yearned to suffocate and kill the deranged and caustic parts of him, even if he was still unsure if there’d be any part of him left. He could barely stomach the thought of himself and yet Sylvain embraced him for all that he was, not in spite of it, but because of it.

Felix whimpered, a small pitiful sound as he gripped into Sylvain’s shirt with white knuckles pulling him closer. Tucking his head under his chin, he spoke with a quiet voice, “I remember.” 

Still keeping a tight grip on Felix, Sylvain scooted further back onto the bed and gently lowered them to the mattress. With one hand pressed gently to the back of Felix's neck to cradle him to his chest, Sylvain began to hum softly. It was something he couldn't remember anyone ever doing this for him, and yet it came as naturally as breathing.

"I've got you, Fe. My Fe," he stressed. "You're safe. I'm here." 

Felix remained tense as he felt them being lowered to the mattress. Held close as he had ever been to anyone, he curled into Sylvain’s side, never feeling smaller than he did at this exact moment.

Felix felt the low reverberations of Sylvain’s chest as he hummed a melody he couldn’t quite place. His shallow breaths began to even out as he followed the rise and fall of Sylvain’s diaphragm. He finally unclenched his clawed fists, extending his hands over the wide expanse of Sylvain's chest.

Sylvain continued to pet Felix's hair and murmur sweet, soothing nothings in his ear. After a while, he felt the tightly-coiled body nestled in his arms begin to relax and gave himself permission to relax a little, too. Maybe the storm was passing. The splay of Felix's hands across his chest was comforting, too, and Sylvain marveled at how easily they could mend each other.

"There you are," he said quietly. "You came back to me, Fe." He stroked at the line of Felix's jaw with his thumb as he watched his fiancé's face intently, trying to read his expressions.

Felix flexed his fingers, relaxing them as he hummed, just on this side of certain.

“‘m here.” 

He had never been handled as carefully as he was in this moment. It was as if he was something fragile, something to be handled delicately and Sylvain did just that. Felix had to marvel at truly how matched and in sync they were to each other’s equal and opposite reactions. When he was too much for himself, Sylvain was there to accept him in all his excess. He turned his head, leaving three small kisses on Sylvain’s chest.

Amber eyes shifted up as Sylvain’s thumb stroked passes down his jawline. “Love you.”

"Love you back," Sylvain said with a smile, chest feeling full to bursting in the wake of the kisses. "Now stay with me." 

He gently tugged the tie from Felix's hair and began to work his fingers into Felix's scalp the way Sylvain knew he liked. All the while, he held eye contact, trying to ground both of them. After trailing tiny kisses across Felix's forehead, he breathed a contented sigh.

"How you feeling now?"

Felix answered with an affirmative noise, laying his head back down. Stay with Sylvain. That’s all he wanted to do.

“Better. Not great, but better.” He shook his head slightly. Though they were alone, Felix spoke lowly, barely above a whisper. “I don’t get why it’s so hard to just be content. Do other people struggle this fucking much?”

Sylvain curled himself even more tightly around Felix and drew closer still until they were sharing breath. When he spoke, his own voice was a low rumble.

"Everyone does, Fe. Some just struggle more than others." He set his jaw in a firm line and swallowed hard, wishing like hell that things could be easier for Felix. Sylvain could take it. He'd been living in the dark for so long that he'd developed extra senses to compensate. But Felix...he'd suffered a tremendous loss, but there was no need, no purpose for him to continue suffering. 

"I wish I could take it away," he admitted, feeling hopelessly inadequate. "Your pain, Fe. Everyone's."

No matter what horrors Sylvain had seen, felt, experienced in his life, that he even had the ability to say he wanted to take the pain of others away was leagues beyond the strongest thing Felix had ever heard.

Felix slinked up, meeting Sylvain’s lips in a soft brush, sharing breath as if it was the only way he could breathe. “You do, no one has made me forget it.” In near-reverent form, his lips ghosted, open-mouthed presses against Sylvain’s lips. “When I’m with you, there’s nothing but us. You’re my escape from myself.”

Well, that clearly wasn't healthy, but Sylvain couldn't judge because he was in the exact same fucked-up boat as Felix, trying to bail out water faster than it poured in. And really, leaning into Felix was the least unhealthy thing Sylvain had done to cope.

He wound silky strands of hair around his fingers as he closed the remaining distance to press his lips firmly to Felix's. He stayed like that, content to simply bask in the comfort of warm lips on his, the sound of Felix's steady breathing. He wondered if they'd ever stop trying to escape themselves and realized that they probably would not, but at least they could keep trying together.

With the guiding hand intertwined with his hair, Felix moved closer meeting Sylvain’s plush lips with a firm press. Wordlessly, he sighed into the ease of his mouth.

Felix rubbed random patterns over Sylvain’s chest, only pulling back his lips the shortest distance. “Thank you, Sylvain. For being here, letting me be with you, everything. ” Each sentiment punctuated with a small kiss.

Sylvain responded to each little kiss with two of his own, fingers moving in steady patterns through Felix's hair. The fact that he was thanking Sylvain for letting him be with him still hurt because he had no idea why anyone would want to come along for this whole messy ride, let alone thank him for it, but it was getting easier.

There were so many feelings, so many things he wanted to say that Sylvain nearly choked on his words. He settled instead for "I love you so fucking much," murmured into the tender spot just below Felix's ear.

The hot air against his sensitive skin tickled, sending a shiver through his body, pressing him even closer into Sylvain’s encompassing grasp.

As a natural reaction, Felix felt himself swell as a result of their closeness. For once, he attempted to simply remain close without egging on the more prurient physical aspect of their relationship.

He turned, resting his forehead against Sylvain’s, speaking in a soft tone, “I’ve never wanted someone else to be my family before you.”

That wasn't something Sylvain had ever expected to hear, both in general and from Felix. He thought about what he'd seen during one of their first successful Drifts, the ghosts of Felix's father and brother. He'd loved them fiercely; hadn't Felix wanted them to be his family?

He focused on the present instead. "Same, Fe. I never thought I'd be able to hear the word 'family' without tasting blood a little. But it's different with you. We belong to each other now."

Sylvain's hand fell to Felix's waist to hold him gently, feeling the rise and fall of his body with each breath, leaning into it as a guide.

We belong to each other

If anyone told Felix even mere months ago that he would crave, even swoon at belonging to someone, well, he would’ve decked the person for speaking out of their ass.

But goddamn.

When Sylvain said that, out of fucking nowhere came a whimper followed by a choked noise. Felix recoiled from his own reaction, pulling back, slapping his hand over and covering his mouth. Eyes, watery and rounded in horror, mortification, shock, a little from each, Felix wanted to roll off the bed and just disappear.

The small sounds Felix made in response to Sylvain pouring his heart out, the bashful, pained expression on his face...he wanted more.

"Fe," he said in a low voice, cupping his face as gently as though he were holding a baby bird, "I love you. And sorry, but I've been holding all the sappy stuff inside my entire life, so you're going to hear plenty of it."

Felix was stuck wide eyed and captive between his love’s big, greedy paws. Speaking like he was, looking like he did , he knew what he was doing.

Not wanting to stifle his passions but instead, letting them flourish, Felix girded himself for the force that was Sylvain. In whatever he did, he was relentless. And to be perfectly honest, Felix found that to be one of his best qualities, even when at his expense.

He pursed his lips in a pout, huffing between Sylvain’s hands. “I love you back. Do whatever you have to do. But that doesn’t mean I can’t react to it.”

Was that as convincing as it sounded? Yeah, that was convincing.

Felix's pout was one of Sylvain's favorite facial expressions (second only to when Sylvain was making him come so hard, he saw stars). He kissed plush pursed lips greedily, though he managed to limit himself to only one small flick of his tongue.

"I love the way you react to me, good or bad. You're real. Genuine. I think it might be my favorite thing about you, actually."

Sylvain drew back just enough to look deep into Felix's eyes, taking in the raw openness he found there.

"Fuck, Fe. You're really it for me."

Chapter 37: This is Hello.

Summary:

The last time they had been like this…was when Felix had left. Sylvain had asked to be hurt and he did just that. And now, it seemingly was the same thing… It would fall to him to distinguish the two instances. Not only was it his job to take him apart, but to put him, both of them back together.

Chapter Text

Out of what had become an absolute reflex, Felix met and chased Sylvain’s tongue, whining at the loss of contact.

Any dry or sharp remark that he was ready to throw back died on his lips when Sylvain spoke. For as genuine as he was touted to be, in moments like these, Sylvain wore his heart on his sleeve and Felix considered himself lucky to see it…and possessive of it. It was clear from his actions and his words that this was no standard thing but, only something for Felix. And he loved that.

In a series of swift movements, Felix rolled to the side

“Now you’re just trying to make me react. That’s not fair.”

Another one of Sylvain's favorite little sounds snuck out, as he suspected, quite against Felix's will. How could he possibly resist taking the bait? He could never deny Felix anything, unless he specifically asked.

"How is it unfair? You have the choice of not reacting...or, you know, making me react, too." He leaned down to kiss Felix again, bracing himself with a hand on each side of his head. It was interesting how easily they cycled through dark and light, beautiful contrasts that always seemed to bring them together.

“Because…” Felix started and was happily, though he wouldn’t admit it, interrupted by Sylvain’s lips that once again, took his breath away.

Cheeks beginning to flush with a pale blush, he continued, “ …because, it’s not a choice.” Sylvain liked genuine? Alright, Felix could swallow his pride if it served himself and Sylvain.

In a plaintive tone, he spoke lowly, “I react to anything you do. You know how good you are and you know my body better than anyone.” He leaned to the side, kissing up the insides of his wrists. Sly eyes never left his as Felix purred, “You’re my Sylvain. My lover. The future Sylvain Fraldarius. My future husband. How could I not react?”

That pleading note in Felix's voice as he lavished Sylvain with praise was all it took. He tipped his head back with a shuddering sigh as soft lips caressed sensitive skin, mind flashing back not to the dark distant past but the first time Felix had ever touched him with intention. Right there in the goddamn mess hall, shameless and shyly needy, without a shred of regard for anyone else in the room.

Like he and Sylvain were the only people in the room.

"I do," he said unevenly, sliding his hands across the strong, gorgeous body he knew beyond well by now. He looked up with wide eyes, helplessly captivated by Felix's gaze.

Felix quirked a brow at him, his lips curling at the corners. He had expected a physical reaction, possibly even a non-verbal but vocal response. Though this answer? This was unexpected.

“You do what, Sylvain?” His eyes lidded as he lavished slower, languid kisses on the tender flesh of his wrist. “You take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?” It was his full intention to remain coquettish and coy, not to blush as he spoke but, since when had that ever stopped his coloration? Though, the giddiness that he felt with the simple line, that was a welcomed addition.

This time, Sylvain actually whimpered, just a little, the sound catching low in his throat. He bit hard into his lip to regain his composure before answering, trying to will words to push past the overwhelming sensation of Felix's kisses.

"I do take you to be my husband, lawfully or unlawfully wedded. And I definitely know your body better than anyone." He grazed his fingertips over the scant curve of Felix's waist as if to illustrate his point. 

The blush, which had been present more or less since they'd gotten back to Felix's room, had only intensified. Sylvain's next few breaths came shallow and slightly ragged as he took in his future husband's face: rose-stained cheeks, kiss-flushed lips, amber eyes looking up at him through long dark  lashes.

At the gentle touch to his side, Felix moved against Sylvain with a slow up drag of his hips. “So you do. And you do know you could take me any way you wanted.”

Felix reached up with both hands, cradling Sylvain’s cheeks. With calloused fingers he stroked his freckled cheekbones. More a shared internal observation in the moment, Felix breathed out, “You really are gorgeous, Sylvain. Inside and out.”

Sylvain both cringed internally, reflexively and melted at the praise, the delicate touch, the way Felix was grinding up into him just enough to tease. He was baiting him, and Sylvain was more than happy to take it.

"You, too," he said, just a little breathless, just a little distracted. "You really are, Fe." Then he leaned down to kiss him again and murmured against his lips, "How do you want me to take you?"

Felix ate up Sylvain’s shallow breaths with a hunger that only came when the man was involved. Lust was quickly overtaking any of Felix’s higher processing, vision becoming focused just on the shock of red above him and the handsome features, mere inches away.

“You tell me.” Felix leaned up, pressing a soft kiss into tender lips, trying to impart all the trust in the world that he had in Sylvain. “However you want your Felix.”

It only took Sylvain a split second to respond.

"I want my Felix to fuck me, I think," he said, as if he weren't absolutely, one-hundred-percent goddamn sure of it. "I want to hold me down, want to feel him inside me, make a mess of me, take me apart...

With one fluid motion, he rolled onto his back and pulled Felix on top of him, hands bracing his hips.

Ask and ye shall receive.

Sylvain said what he wanted and that was what he would get. “ Your Felix hears you loud and clear.” Felix moved his hips, sure to rub the length of their growing outlines together as he shifted forward to retrieve the lube from his nightstand.

As he stretched over Sylvain’s body, a terrible thought popped into his head. The last time they had been like this…was when Felix had left. Sylvain had asked to be hurt and he did just that. And now, it seemingly was the same thing… It would fall to him to distinguish the two instances. Not only was it his job to take him apart, but to put him, both of them back together. Felix gave himself that objective.

Grabbing the tube, he set it off to the side as he regained his place at Sylvain’s hips, with his hands snugly at his joint. Dragging over again, he bent, pressing three kisses to his lips before working his shirt up and off Sylvain. Felix held over him with extended arms blatantly drinking in the physique that he had before descending to lavish wet circles around his hardening pink buds.

Every brush of Felix's lips, every stroke of his fingers and tongue, set Sylvain's nerves alight with pleasure. A long whimper escaped him when those hands, which never failed to make him feel amazing, found their way down to his hips and pressed.

"Fuck," he whined helplessly as he rocked his hips up, seeking friction wantonly as if they hadn't done this only a few hours ago. "More?"

For as much as Sylvain said he loved when Felix reacted, the inverse was just as true. Felix drank in and reveled in Sylvain’s delicious whines and moans, followed by breathless questions. He quickly adjusted, slotting himself between his legs, length against length. Not being one to ask many things for himself, when he asked for ‘more' here, who was Felix to deny him?

“I’ll give you all you want in time,” he purred.

Not missing how he whined at his weighty press, Felix repeated his movements, placing his hand just outside of where a dark blue bruise was still growing at his abdomen. Leaning forward, he lavished attention with a dull scrap of his teeth to his sensitive nipples, flicking them with his tongue. 

Sylvain had seen little flashes of teasing from Felix before, but this was on a completely different level. While he knew he could easily turn the tables, take back control, he wanted this--wanted Felix to have that power over him, to do whatever he pleased, and on his own time.

"Fe," he whined, though there was no heart in it. "Please?" 

But he kept still and pliant beneath his partner as he licked and scratched and sucked at his chest. When Felix's hand found its way to the border of the bruise and pressed, he arched off the bed with a sharp cry and a groan.

“Shhh shhh shhh,” Felix cooed, bringing his head up to whisper reassurances and grounding nothings as he kissed along Sylvain’s jawline. “I will take care of you.”

When he was met with not more sounds of pain, he snaked his hand back down following suit to the bruise. Lower now and in between Sylvain’s spread legs, he stroked his clothed cock with featherlight touches. Between the faint touches to his member, Felix took his time pressing his fingers into Sylvain’s abdomen. His flesh, taut over a well-muscled body, gave very little which Felix took as a personal challenge. As he was very aware of Sylvain’s cock, his attention was completely on the man himself, specifically, his reactions to the specific presses of Felix’s fingers.

Before applying any pressure, he dragged his lips over the discolored skin, then looked up to watch Sylvain’s reactions to the pressure. He gave a light stroke with his other hand, now a well-practiced movement.

The results were immediate: a low, shuddering exhale, followed by a slow grind of his hips as Sylvain tried desperately to lean into Felix's touch. He trembled slightly beneath the smaller man, capable only of uttering delicate gasps of Fe and small sounds of affirmation.

When the hand on his cock began to move in a more regular rhythm, Sylvain inhaled sharply and fisted his hands in Felix's sheets, wanting to be good for him. 

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered in awe, watching Felix's face as he continued his ministrations. Felix was beautiful like this: sly molten gaze and sure hands, positive that whatever he was doing would make Sylvain feel incredible. And he was not wrong.

That Sylvain was so good and so responsive for him gave Felix a fully-formed thrill he hadn’t noticed before. To have this big man at his mercy, willingly giving himself over to any whims Felix cared to answer to, it was more than enticing. The prospect and the reality of which gave Felix both terribly passionate and possessive drives that he sought to answer in tandem.

With a slow drag of his lips, he ghosted over the trail of auburn hair that disappeared at his waistband, speaking softly, “Taking care of you.”

Never losing eye contact, he took a lesson from Sylvain’s own book, by dipping his tongue into the well of his navel, forcing a chill and a groan of his own. He pressed down with pointed firmness on the epicenter of the bruise as he palmed Sylvain’s cock in a hard grip.

Regardless of whether they were in battle or in bed, Felix always moved with an intentionality and focus that captivated Sylvain. His next in-breath came in a soft hiccup at the delicious contrast of Felix's hot, wet mouth and the brutal pressure on his stomach.

He keened into the rough glide of Felix's hand against his clothed cock, arching upward with a cry that was a mixture of pain and pleasure. With some difficulty, Sylvain raised himself on his elbows to get a better view, looking down at his partner with wide, trusting eyes.

Felix smirked as he saw Sylvain move. “You have a better view now?”

Lifting off the bed and shifting back, he unfastened Sylvain’s pants, shifting it down, freeing his strained cock before tossing the clothes on the floor.

Enjoying this newfound or rather, newly recognized power, Felix took his time, licking up a thick stripe up the underside of his cock. He mouthed at the tip, humming in greedy satisfaction that he was able to pull all these noises from Sylvain. The idea that there could be more noises and reactions only served to spur him on, starting with a moan around his thick head. 

"Y-yeah," Sylvain stuttered, hands immediately going to Felix's hair not to force more but simply to hold him close. He had never been an especially quiet partner, but there was something about Felix that made it impossible to restrain himself.

"Fuck, Fe, that's so good," Sylvain murmured at the first languid stroke of his tongue. A sudden chill wracked his body when Felix took the tip of his cock into his mouth and began to tease, lips vibrating around Sylvain's sensitive flesh. His fingers flexed with the instinct to pull him closer, to get more, but he held back. He suspected Felix already knew the power he held over Sylvain, but he was quickly becoming addicted to watching the realization wash over his face as he took Sylvain apart.

From the acknowledgment and the fingers in his hair, Felix felt himself throb in response. In a satisfied hum, he dipped his head down, taking more of Sylvain into his mouth as he reached down touching himself, relieving some of the tension. It seemed fitting to Felix that they both seemed to react exceptionally forcefully when faced with proper acknowledgment and praise; the resulting reaction was no different.

Testing his limits, Felix guided his mouth down and down over Sylvain's cock, winning him a garbled gag that he had to pull off immediately, saliva flowing freely from his hovering open mouth. When met with a challenge, there was none that Felix Fraldarius turned from-and this right now was just one more. With a furrowed brow, Felix repeated his motions, this time leading with his fist, each pass able to slowly take more and more of Sylvain without much issue. Watery eyes under long dark lashes peered up, searching for more of that praise that he craved.

Sylvain's head spun as he watched, struggling to take everything in while still remembering to breathe. Any one of the things Felix was doing would have been plenty, but he found himself panting lightly as he stared down, entranced, and saw Felix begin to touch himself. 

"Don't you want me to help you out with that?" he purred, caught between two extremes: the desire to touch Felix himself, and the overwhelming sensation of a hot, wet mouth descending over his cock. 

Deepthroating was, of course, nothing new for Sylvain, but it was new to Felix, which brought it full circle. He wasn't used to seeing his partners struggle with it; generally, they were either too experienced or fought to hide their effort well enough that he hadn't noticed. But now, looking down at Felix's flushed cheeks and glistening eyes, Sylvain promptly forgot every other blow job he'd had in his life. 

" So good," he crooned again, stroking his fingers through Felix's hair and brushing his bangs away from his face. "Don't stop, Fe."

The grunt that was supposed to indicate ‘ No, thanks I don’t want your help right now ’ came as a very eloquent “AH-AH.

If he hadn’t already made it his mission to succeed at this particular task, the charismatic voice that egged him on sure as shit would’ve. He let a groan of assent around his flushed cock as he redoubled his efforts. His eyes left Sylvain’s as he switched all his energy and focus on applying himself to swallowing his dick.

After a few more passes, plenty more coughs and gags, his flushed lips finally wrapped around the base of Sylvain’s cock. Hollowing his cheeks, he went ahead and duplicated the movement, up and down, landing back among the strawberry thatch. Felix’s hands went to the joints in his hips, pressing into him as he swallowed the thick member.

Sylvain's gaze laser-focused on the sight before him: Felix's heavy-lidded eyes, the soft sounds of struggle as he swallowed around his cock. He closed his eyes and counted to five before he trusted himself to open them again.

"You..." he began, voice breaking off into a ragged moan as Felix gave a particularly good suck. "You are entirely too good at this, and you are wearing far too many clothes."

Normally, Sylvain would have thrown Felix off him by now to strip him down and take what he wanted, but he reminded himself to be patient. He bit into his lip to swallow another moan, eyes dark with lust.

Felix rose up and off Sylvain’s dick with a particularly obscene sound. Wiping his lips, his pupils were blown wide, amber irises nearly blacked out as he leaned back on his heels. “Too many clothes for you?”

Rather than coy, the question came quite honestly. Felix had truly been in an almost trance-like state with the singular focus of Sylvain’s pleasure. With no higher processing power at his disposal, Felix wrenched the shirt off over his head and shucked his pants off before slotting himself back between Sylvain’s outstretched thighs.

He stared blatantly at the great expanse of a man laid out in front of him with a heady gaze. He bit his lip unceremoniously as his curious hands wandered up and around Sylvain’s muscular thighs.

Sylvain watched in awe as Felix undressed, a sight he thought he'd never tire of. Felix seemed almost dazed, flushing pink down to his chest and even in the harsh light, he looked ethereal. 

"God damn, Fe, have you ever seen yourself?" he whispered hoarsely. His next few breaths rasped out at the feeling of strong, sinewy hands Drifting steadily upward, exploring places where Sylvain had never been touched by anyone else.

Felix was too distracted by what was at his literal fingertips to pay much attention to anything else that Sylvain might’ve said. He was mildly aware that his breathing had changed. Having a body so unlike his own in front of him, so open, so vulnerable, it sent a thrill through his system.

Fully leaning into the experience that was Sylvain, he wrapped his forearms underneath his thighs, pulling Sylvain into him, folding him slightly onto his back. Felix brought his mouth down to follow his curious hands, nipping, kissing, and sucking marks onto the sensitive skin that hadn’t yet seen sun.

As soon as he felt Felix's mouth touch his skin, plush and almost unbearably hot, all higher thought shrieked to a halt. Sylvain's mind went blissfully blank and he allowed himself to become lost in pure sensation.

His elbows buckled beneath him and he sank to the bed, flat on his back. He allowed himself to be pulled and moved any way Felix wanted, uttering a low, broken groan at the sudden closeness. The intimacy of the moment was so sharp that it was almost painful but at Felix's hands, it stopped just short of the line and turned to something sweet and almost pure.

His mouth trailed hotly along his skin, teeth scraping and dragging against it.

He lifted his head, finding Sylvain’s eyes. Anything that might’ve been considered sweet or pure vanished in the instant that he met Sylvain’s eyes. His eyes took a hawkish gleam as he wrenched him closer still, folding him over with rough, sturdy movements. Felix dove down with a ravenous fervor tonguing at Sylvain’s entrance, holding and locking his thighs tightly to his side.

Sylvain shuddered head to toe at the confident, not-quite-expert touches. The glint in Felix's beautiful amber eyes, blown out dark with lust, had him biting into his lip, only to release it with a startled cry when he felt Felix's talented tongue lapping at him.

"You're...a quick learner," he gasped, trying fruitlessly to push closer to Felix even as his eyes welled with unshed tears.

I will take care of you.

The words echoed in his mind and Sylvain made a quiet choked sound that caught in the back of his throat. Unable to resist any longer, he Drifted a hand down to his cock and began to rub lightly at the head, his eyes sliding shut.

Good…teacher,” Felix answered as he panted out from between Sylvain’s cheeks. The choked sounds confused him for a moment, but as soon as he saw Sylvain’s hand rise to stroke himself, they were confirmed as the signs of something positive and not a negative experience.

The sight of Sylvain taking his own pleasure into his hands drove Felix wild. He dove down, focusing on penetrating his tight entrance with pointed and purposeful tongue movements.

That they worked well together to achieve a common goal or objective was news to no one. And how they fit together in a romantic realm was known to less , but possibly forged an even stronger bond between the men. Like this, Felix was able to actively be with Sylvain, helping him retrieve his own satisfaction as Felix doubled his efforts.

"Fe, please," Sylvain gasped, tightening his grip and stilling the motions of his hand to hold himself back. "I'm close...wanna come with you inside me."

Felix was relentless in everything he did. Sylvain knew this, and yet his partner managed to surprise him every time with his determination. He clenched his jaw around another moan, the muscles of his thighs and abdomen contracting as Felix's tongue breached his opening. 

"Now, " he demanded, forcing himself not to arch off the bed.

Maybe at another time Felix would deny him. Make Sylvain come apart in a quivering mess of Felix’s own cruel, self-satisfied design. But this wasn’t the time. He would work to bring what his Sylvain desired.

Without any ceremony and the urgency of following a command he was dying to hear, Felix ripped himself back, quickly coating his cock before pressing into Sylvain in one labored shove. He breathed out, groaning as he bottomed out in Sylvain. He fell forward, elbows bracketing his head as he savagely kissed him. Not waiting for any further directive, Felix resorted to pounding away, driving deeper and deeper into Sylvain at a punishing pace, quickly approaching his own release.

Felix only pulled back a fraction to babble Sylvain’s name over and over, ad infinitum in his ear.

My Sylvain.”

The sudden intrusion made Sylvain's vision go white and he cried Felix's name harshly, the sound ringing loud and obscene in the small room. He turned his head to muffle his moans and pants as Felix drove into him, almost sobbing into the other's neck with pleasure.

"Fe .. my Fe," Sylvain rasped, hips bucking once as he came between them, coating their stomachs. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms tightly around Felix, clinging to him as he fucked Sylvain through his orgasm.

The goddamn way Sylvain managed to say his name, holy fucking shit. Felix never thought of himself as self-important, but he could probably come from just the sound of his own name in the way Sylvain said it.

The pressure from Sylvain as he found his release wrecked his body was incredible. But it was when he wrapped Felix tightly in his strong arms rasping out to him that he came with a groan. He went boneless as he collapsed on Sylvain, cuddling close despite the mess between them.

Felix sighed more than spoke his next words. “Love you.”

Sylvain gave a series of small gasps and shudders as he came down, holding Felix firmly to his chest. Leaning up, he dusted three little kisses across Felix's collarbone again, and again, and again.

"Love you back, Fe." And then, after a moment he added shyly, "You did so good. You're perfect for me." The praise was important to Felix, he knew, but it meant even more to Sylvain to give it freely and mean it.

Felix nuzzled closer, one step away from preening at Sylvain’s kisses and shy words. “And you for me. So don’t forget it.” At the last sentiment, Felix nipped at his ear before pressing up to grab a tissue, beginning to clean their mutual mess.

After a fair job, Felix tossed the used tissues and returned to the bed. Still naked as the day he was born, reclaimed a spot curled next to Sylvain. “Stay with me tonight.” Please, he thought.

Sylvain let his lashes flutter as Felix cleaned him up, heart aching; he'd never felt so cared for in his entire life. Or as safe. He slipped an arm beneath Felix and rolled him closer, wanting to eliminate all possible space between them. 

"I'll stay with you forever, Fe," he said, sealing the promise with a light kiss. "I'm not going anywhere unless you do, and even then it'll only be because I'll follow you."

Sylvain couldn't remember all the empty you're the one's he'd cast out in his life, and for once, the memories of all his lies didn't haunt him. He lay there quietly, content to hold Felix to his chest and listen to the soft sounds of his breathing.

Chapter 38: Fulcrum

Summary:

The beast in question was not particularly tall, but it was disturbingly long. And disturbing in many other respects as well: flesh-colored and vaguely tent-shaped. Its leathery skin was red and sun-blistered but pale at the apex of the peak, where it lay in perpetual shadow.

Chapter Text

After dressing again (and managing to dress Felix as well, not sparing a moment's thought to any potential protestations before he began), Sylvain lifted the other man's hand and studied the battered o-ring adorning his finger. The masking tape had begun to lose its stickiness, leaving a thin grey film behind on his skin. He tutted under his breath.

"This will not do," he said, his voice a playful imitation of Dorothea's. "You deserve a proper ring, Fe. If you want one. And you know where to start looking, because I have no idea."

Felix's face slid into a relaxed grin as Sylvain maneuvered his hand and his poor ring that anyone would need to pry from his cold, dead goddamn hands if they were to try and remove it...without a replacement that is.

He yanked his hand down to Sylvain's chest, pulling him in for an artless, fierce kiss. Felix followed it up with three small pecks, remaining close, "I want one." His response came as a shock to even himself. No, he never was one much for appearances, but this symbol, something that would proudly show they belonged to each other? There was something to be said for that.

However, that now begged the question...where the fuck did they find rings? They weren't on furlough or leave...so the only place on the base that might have something akin to rings... He shrugged his shoulders, pulling Sylvain to the door. "The general supply depot?" The questioning tone did nothing to add confidence to his proffered idea. But an idea it was and it would be as good of a starting point as any.

Walking hand in hand because apparently, Felix wasn't all that keen on dropping their contact, more accurately, he was fine making up for missed time.

They walked down the corridors passing the viewing deck for the engaged jaegers, Adder in all her glory facing forward as Felix squeezed Sylvain's hand.

The alarms blared.

 

ALERT: CATEGORY 5 KAIJU SIGNATURE DETECTED IN PROXIMITY. ALL PROPERLY CREDENTIALED PILOTS ARE TO REPORT TO THE JAEGER BAY IMMEDIATELY.

 

"Son of a fucking bitch," Sylvain spat as he tightened his grip on Felix's hand and began to sprint. He realized that he was probably dragging the shorter man, but it was for the best; they needed to move out, and fast.

As they raced to the jaeger bay, Sylvain's mind whirled with horrible possibilities. He'd never seen a Category 5; very few people had, and the ones who'd lived to tell the tale had all been brutally maimed, shells of their former selves. He had heard stories, read reports, imagined grown men crying for their mothers as they slowly bled out or were devoured whole in vicious, snapping jaws.

Sylvain knew they were supposed to await their proper assignments before deploying, but there wasn't time for that. He jerked open the door to Adder's cockpit hard enough to strain something in his left shoulder and shoved Felix into his harness before strapping into his own. 

"Mia. Launch protocol. Initiate Drifting sequence."

His vision narrowed during the countdown, something primal looking out through his eyes. Once they had landed on solid ground, he began to propel the jaeger forward with swift, ferocious steps.

FULCRUM, Mia droned in her unnerving mechanical voice. CATEGORY FIVE KAIJU. 

The beast in question was not particularly tall, but it was disturbingly long. And disturbing in many other respects as well: flesh-colored and vaguely tent-shaped. Its leathery skin was red and sun-blistered but pale at the apex of the peak, where it lay in perpetual shadow.

Sylvain's mind, perverted even when they were in grave danger, decided that it looked like one person lying on their knees and forearms with the person on top sort of...doing a pushup, kind of ass-to-ass, with his dick inside his partner? Huh. It was like trying to see shapes in clouds, or make sense of inkblots.

He filed that position away for future exploration, then looked over at Felix with wide eyes to gauge his expression.

The next few seconds passed like a dream. Felix sprinted, hand in hand with Sylvain down the corridor up to Adder's cockpit. There was no discussion of waiting or grouping up. As he went to her left hemisphere, Felix felt hands on him, ushering him into the harness that somehow felt as if he never left. Regardless of what had occurred, they were in perfect lockstep. If they were to survive, Felix would look back on this fondly and with pride. They overcame and they would do so once again.

Felix turned his head towards his partner as Sylvain initiated the Drift sequence. There was something feral about the look he wore, something base and animalistic that called out to Felix on a fundamental level. They were here and they were together. Felix had Sylvain and Sylvain had him. That was all that mattered. No one was lost in the sauce going under.

Instantly, they moved quickly forward, pushing Adder with well-met easy strides propelling her to the site. And what a fucking sight Fulcrum was.

Felix had no qualms about killing the mindless beasts hellbent on causing as much widespread death and destruction as they could before they expired. However, he would admit if pressed that he found them kind of badass looking. Each was different with their abilities and visage. It was a terribly dark juxtaposition to be interested in the things that threatened his very life but he couldn't care less. This was not the case with Fulcrum.

Impossibly long, supporting and connective limbs at backwards angles, oddly...laterally and diagonally-shaped, Fulcrum was a terrible flesh tone that was all shades of incorrect. Rather than the dark blues, greens, and blacks of its other counterparts, Fulcrum was an amalgamation of flesh tones with massive pustules in different stages of openness, all rimmed with gory yellow and red messes that made Felix want to wretch.

Never able to fix his face, Felix recoiled, scrunching his nose up in disgust. "What the fuck are we looking at?" The question was posed to the ether more out of utter disbelief than a search for anything substantive.

Mia chimed in, just as (un)helpful as he remembered: IN VIEW: FULCRUM, CATEGORY FIVE KAIJU.

The robotic voice never sounded so dry and sarcastic, unbothered to fill in the obvious. And how Felix had missed it all. 

"I swear to fucking god I am not here for your goddamn sass, Mia!"

He was, though.

With his pulse thrumming in his ears, he snarled out, "Engaging link blade. On you!" He glanced to the side waiting for his partner to take the lead so he could execute their follow through.

"Fulcrum," Sylvain said casually. "Category Five Kaiju. Haven't you heard?"

With a lurch and a groan of metal that Sylvain realized had become comforting rather than terrifying, Adder's right arm came up. Sylvain twitched his fingers playfully and cast Felix a mischievous, suggestive look. Then he winked.

"Mia, let's toast this bitch."

He painted a searing line up the monster's right side, flames licking down its horrible twisted spine. Sylvain's brows furrowed in intense focus as he continued the attack. His arm felt heavy and uncomfortably hot, but he refused to give up. He had to protect them. 

He had to protect Felix.

"Fe, now!"

On Sylvain's familiar motions, Felix felt the blade whip and fold out from its sheath. With an extension and swing back of his arm, Adder's left side responded perfectly, with no degree of error following his swift movements.

As soon as Sylvain's flames lit the kaiju, Felix was ready to engage. Upon Sylvain's direction, he raised his arm, quickly pivoting and thrusting the blade in and out of Fulcrum. The sheer size of the Cat.5 made his regular slashing motions moot. The only thing he could do at this juncture was stab into it with the hopes of hitting something vital in the, what had to be a mess of internal organs.

If he did or did not hit anything, Felix didn't know. The monster let out a wet hissing roar that made his skin crawl. In the middle of another thrust, Felix looked over at Sylvain. Deep lines etched on his face, gritting his teeth savagely as condensation from his sweat fogged up his visor. He was holding the flame for too long.

Felix yelled out upon his next stab, "Take your foot off the fucking gas! And just hit it!"

The sound of Felix's harsh voice ringing through the cabin jolted Sylvain back to the present moment. With a ferocious roar that dimly reminded him of Miklan, Sylvain swung Adder's right arm like a battering ram, followed up with a stab something like a jousting motion. Swiftly repositioning the weapon, he pressed it to the vulnerable juncture of the creature's spine, then twitched his fingertips in little bursts of three in an attempt to destroy its spinal column.

His partner's graceful, fluid motions as he swung and snapped his blade reminded Sylvain not of the cold sea rushing into Ruined Sky's cockpit but instead a calm and gentle stream. Sylvain relaxed into the safety of the Drift and allowed their movements to sync effortlessly.

Felix's grin was all teeth when he saw Sylvain switch up his guard and use his flamethrower as a battering ram. Nearly instantly, the painful consternation that had been written all over his face was gone. He had to focus on the absolute terror that was Fulcrum, but he wondered passively if he had been pushing himself this much without his presence. It was something that Felix could see him doing, it would be discussed later.

Seeing where Sylvain was directing all his attention, Felix re-positioned his strikes to create sick notches in Fulcrum as if the beast was some huge tree. Making his strikes, he dipped and swayed just out of the way of the beast's slow, lumbering strikes. Notch after notch, the kaiju made hideous noises as they continued moving, battering, burning, and slicing. Looking at his partner, he yelled, "Keep it up, this thing is slow. Just gotta get through it!"

 Sylvain flicked his eyes over to Felix and gave a short, brisk nod before taking a step forward with Adder's right leg. Its foot and part of the shin were almost directly underneath the thing's belly, and Sylvain gave it a swift kick to what he hoped served as its lungs as he swung the right arm twice--striking first with the front, then the back of the jaeger's hand.

"Get it, Fe!" he shouted breathlessly. Sylvain allowed himself a moment to recover as he watched his fierce, sexy co-pilot (as he'd said what felt like forever ago, in the incident that got them reassigned). He took in the sight before him: Felix in his harness, small but fierce and spurred on--no, electrified--by blind rage and bloodlust.

And he had never looked more gorgeous.

Seeing Sylvain focused and deadly, there was nothing like it. How the man could convey such ferocity yet command such poise, Felix was truly in awe of his partner. And he had missed it terribly. 

Now turned into the kaiju with Sylvain leading, Felix employed his blade's length taking a reverse guard, whipping the extended blade, slashing skin away from the growing perforated section.

Neither of them had seen the face that had yet to turn towards them as it reared up, folding in on itself towards its charred side. It wasn't until Felix wheeled back for another whip of his blade that he saw the shadow of its yawning maw fall over Adder's right hemisphere.

Felix's eyes shot wide. He moved silently with an unnatural speed. Rather than the wound they had been tearing, he directed his extended blade up towards the towering wall of flesh. Serrated edges finding purchase in the grotesque flesh, Felix expended the battery reserves of his artillery to power the full-body maneuver. He pulled with all his might, successfully diverting its fall path away from Adder's embedded right arm-already so close to finishing the job.

The portion of flesh encircled by his blade garroted the creature's second visage, sloughing off the skin in its entirety as it fell limply, crashing into Adder's left hemisphere.

Felix screamed.

 

Chapter 39: The Mindkiller

Summary:

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Chapter Text

Sylvain's eyes shot wide with agony and he found himself silently reciting an ancient Litany, howling into the void of the Drift. 

I must not fear.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

I will face my fear.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

It didn't help.

While he writhed in his restraint, he couldn't help but feel that this was the universe somehow coming full-circle, achieving stasis once more, righting itself. Were it not for the searing pain shooting up his left arm as the kaiju's teeth (god, so many teeth, why were there so many teeth?), Sylvain might have laughed at the irony and made a joke. Extra-dark; his house special.

Gallows humor had kept him alive before but now, it was useless. 

Felix's scream, higher and longer than Sylvain had ever heard from a human before, tore through his thoughts. Sylvain used the last of what strength he had to crush the creature's skull. Then he doubled down and lifted Adder's foot, grunting with effort, and kicked the kaiju hard enough to split its spine in two, leaving a massive compound fracture in its wake. That familiar black blood spurted, drenching Adder's front window. 

"Mia! Disengage harness! Now, goddamnit!"

Sylvain rushed over to Felix and squeezed the other man's shoulders, feeling a terror that plumbed heretofore unknown depths.

"Fe. Fe. Speak to me. Please."

Before blacking out, Felix had seen everything in slow motion, almost as if they were suspended underwater. He saw his blade whip up to its full-extension, catching and tearing away flesh of the other head that was aiming to crush Adder. He saw the blade links go white hot with the reserves, singeing and cauterizing the decapitation as he pulled it away, down and due left.

Felix recalled feeling a calm satisfaction as something flowed down his lip. Parting them, he tasted blood.

When the creature's long torso crashed into Adder's left side, he was content in knowing he had protected Sylvain. It was the least he could do and maybe his actions could finally live up to the rest of the Fraldarius pilots. That was a longshot, but it was a nice thought. His last moments otherwise were filled with only his Sylvain. And he was at peace with that.

But then came the pain.

Felix felt blinding pain as the bones in his left arm fragmented and fractured. Adder's arm and blade link were crushed under the mass of still burning, roiling flesh on the other side of Fulcrum. A scream ripped out of his gut, from the deepest part of him until he saw white, and then nothingness.

Mia automatically adjusted Felix's harness as the rigidity in his body faltered all at once going slack. Readouts and alerts sounded in her robotic voice announcing the damage received: loss of consciousness, severe concussion, shoulder dislocation, severe synapse and neuro overload, multiple comminuted fractures along the left radius and humerus. 

...

'Fe.'

...

'Fe.'

...

From somewhere very, very far away, Felix heard Sylvain. A soft, almost inaudible whimper escaped his bloodied lips.

Each update from Mia, delivered in her unnervingly calm voice, added another layer to Sylvain's panic. The pressure in his brain and his chest was building with every passing second. Severe concussion. Loss of consciousness. Dislocation... Fractures… Nerve damage...

Sylvain shuddered and gripped Felix's shoulders, eyes scanning his face frantically, helplessly. They were fucked. He had no idea where they were, he had only limited first aid training, and he wasn't even sure that Fulcrum was 100% dead yet. But he had to help Felix first.

He tore his eyes from his partner to scan the readout panel. There was something on the radar about seven klicks behind them and rapidly approaching; hopefully, it was another pair of pilots coming to their rescue. Or they were even more fucked than Sylvain had thought. He tore at his helmet in frustration, flinging it across the cockpit.

His fist slammed into the comm panel twice as he attempted to send out an alert, his scrambled mind unable to tell him which buttons to push. As sirens and alerts began to blare, Sylvain flung himself at Felix and wrapped his arms around him as though helping Adder hold him up.

Fuck, it sure was taking a long time to die.

The pain from his left side came in sweeping pulses, agonizing sharp spikes interspersed between a general, throbbing undercurrent of discomfort as his baseline, keeping time in this symphony of him being absolutely fucked.

Felix groaned out, equal parts in recognition of the pain and in absolute frustration. His vision was blurry, but even with the fog, he saw the unmistakable mop of dark auburn past his nose. On instinct, as a lingering visage of his mortal life, he breathed in deeply. Well, attempted to anyways. His side caught, cutting off his inhale. But what he did smell with his half inhalation: acrid battery acid, the distinctive rusty olfactory scent of blood, but at the end, underneath all of it, there was Sylvain, as unmistakable as ever.

The corner of his mouth raised as his head lolled down, closer to the scent as his vision blacked out again.

Somewhere even farther away, Mia Farrow and Dame Judy Dench were conversing and about visiting each other?

Man, dying sure was a fucking trip.

*

Felix both was and was not with him, and it terrified Sylvain.

He watched his fiancé's head loll, small sounds of pain slipping out through his blood stained lips. His harness and helmet, meant to protect, were now a useless shell keeping Sylvain from reaching him. He clung tightly to his partner, willing him to be okay as the sound of the alerts slowly began to deafen him and make him go mad.

Some indeterminate amount of time later, Adder's cockpit door burst open and a small group of officials swarmed in. Large, foreign hands were grabbing at Sylvain, trying to tear him away from Felix. He snarled, snapped, made every awful, guttural sound he could muster to keep them away. 

Then there was a long sharp needle kissing his neck and then there was darkness.

Chapter 40: Co-Pilots and Concern

Summary:

Before Dorothea was ever paired with Sylvain and before Dimitri was ever paired with Felix, it had been Dorothea and Dimitri co-piloting Reaver. Their scores were impossibly close in range and their compatibility within the Drift was nearly at one hundred percent. There was no faking anything with the other for they had seen it all. Perhaps that is why Dimitri even spoke as openly as he did with her about this situation...about his worry for Felix.

Chapter Text

Dimitri paced the floor of the medical bay's waiting room like some caged beast, walking the perimeter looking for an escape. Or rather, in his case, an entry.

Taking large steps throughout, he held little of what passed through his mind as an inner monologue, thus giving life to his thoughts.

"What were they thinking going off like that?" He ran a large scarred hand through his shaggy blonde hair. "What was he thinking?!"

The giant man stood at the window, rubbing his eyes. It was...how many hours had it been? When was the last time he had eaten? Why didn't Felix wait for him? Did he doubt him? Did he not think he was able? Did he not think he would protect him? His face fell into his hands with a shudder.

Dorothea approached from stage left and sidled up next to Dimitri, a concerned look marring her pretty features. After carefully contemplating her next move. she reached out and touched his shoulder.

"Dimitri." Her voice was alarmingly gentle, even to her own ears. "Talk to me. You're doing that thing again, going away. What are you thinking about?"

It was the same thing she'd said to Sylvain when she noticed him wandering off during the Drift. Only this time, her hackles were raised; the stakes felt impossibly high.

Dimitri bristled at the hand to his shoulder, not out of malice, but genuine surprise. In his ruminations, he had not even sensed Dorothea's presence. "You frightened me, Dorothea. I am sorry."

He stepped back, running his hand through his hair, pressing it back from his forehead. Dimitri spoke sluggishly, as if the words were being dragged out of him rather than answered in stride. His mind, as she said, was going away. It was already far, far away.

"Apologies," he said, his voice a low, raspy bass. He had no issues speaking to his once partner, now again partner for the mission as they launched to give support to the Cat 5 only to find... "I'm...sorry. I am beside myself with worry and..." he choked up. "What if we were too late?"

"But we weren't, Dimitri," Dorothea said firmly. Despite the large man's flinch, she kept her hand where it was and tightened her grip as she spoke. "And you know how good our doctors are. I think they'll be okay."

At least, she hoped, but she also knew better than to say that part out loud. When Grim Reaver had arrived on the scene, they'd caught a glimpse of the horror that was Fulcrum. And then, even more horror as the beast tore viciously into Cosmic Adder's left arm, which was Felix's hemisphere...

She swallowed hard, then gave Dimitri her cheeriest smile. 

"I'm sure they'll be okay," she said, this time more firmly.

Dimitri looked at her with a weary look, doubt etched deeply into the dark circles that were now a constant in his otherwise handsome visage. He stared, perhaps longer than socially acceptable before shaking his head.

"I don't need to be in the Drift with you to be able to tell when you are hiding your meaning." And that was true.

Before Dorothea was ever paired with Sylvain and before Dimitri was ever paired with Felix, it had been Dorothea and Dimitri co-piloting Reaver. Their scores were impossibly close in range and their compatibility within the Drift was nearly at one hundred percent. There was no faking anything with the other for they had seen it all. Perhaps that is why Dimitri even spoke as openly as he did with her about this situation...about his worry for Felix.

"I saw exactly the same thing you saw. He was nigh unresponsive and you saw the savagery that Sylvain showed when the medics tried to take him out of the harness. There was something wrong." He stared at her with an unblinking crystalline eye, almost daring her to attempt to contradict him.

Savagery.

The word, his tone, the way Dimitri was looking at her with that beautiful, unnerving blue eye as though he could see straight into her soul... She knew he could because he had seen it, seen her countless times before. And how many times had she glanced over at him in the heat of battle to see those handsome features twisted in rage?

She shuddered. 

"Sylvain was just trying to protect Felix. He loves him. If that's savagery, well, maybe we could all stand to be a little more savage ourselves."

A response wasn’t exactly forthcoming from the man as he wasn’t sure what needed to be said, what he wanted to say, he couldn’t even tell how he felt.

He loved Felix and Felix loved him. He knew that. He knew it wasn’t in the same manner that Felix and Sylvain shared, Felix had told him as much. But they were able to have their own connection and it was through this connection that Dimitri felt pulled apart by the seams.

Was he not good enough? Had he been there, would he have been able to protect him? A small voice in his mind that sounded suspiciously similar to Sylvain answered. *I said I’d get him back.*

It was the hand that hadn’t left his shoulder and that small voice that quieted the cacophony of doubts and worries. Dimitri placed his large hand over her own. “Perhaps you’re correct on that front.”

"I know I am," Dorothea said sweetly. "And let's face it. There's nothing we can do out here. Either they're going to be okay, or they're not."

She spoke matter-of-factly, as though the prospect of her copilot dying were no more inconsequential than a change in the weather. Internally, she was torn apart. She wasn't necessarily *close* to Felix or Sylvain, but she'd gotten to know them both together and separately. And now that she'd done her part to get the two idiots back together, she'd be damned if she'd let it be ruined by a little thing like...a Category 5 kaiju nearly ripping Felix's arm off.

"Dimitri, you can't blame yourself." Dorothea took a step closer and lowered her voice. "You know how capable they are, separately and together. You saw that thing. It's a miracle they're both still breathing."

The bluntness that flowed freely from her mouth juxtaposed with her soft, rounded features was an incredible dichotomy. It is something he had come to expect in Dorothea and something that no one else succeeded half as well in.

He answered in a low voice. “As ever Dorothea, you remain correct.” Dimitri nodded his head. Because really, there was no disagreeing. “It’s a miracle they weren’t worse off to be honest. It was frightening when we made our way to the site. I never thought I would see a Category Five.”

"Neither did I," she answered grimly, looking up to catch his eye. "None of us did. And there's been more than one double occurrence in the last six months."

Dorothea would never admit it but she was frightened, too. The sight of Fulcrum had nearly made her vomit and she wasn't sure if she'd ever have sex again after seeing it. She refocused her mind, just as she did every time in the Drift, and returned to the present.

"I heard about the fight." Her voice was even softer now, barely above a whisper. "It sounded bad. Are the three of you...okay again?"

Hearing the admission of fear normally wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary or worth mentioning. However, when it came from Dorothea, any admission given freely was noteworthy.

Dimitri nodded, hesitantly, possibly out of reluctance. “Yes, I believe so. When they were apart, Felix…it was as if he wasn’t there. Wasn’t present. It worried me. And regardless of my feelings towards him, I desire his happiness. And that’s being together with Sylvain. Not me. I understand that now.” He turned squarely to Dorothea. “I understand that now. So yes. We are.”

Dimitri regarded her, lone eye downcast looking for her tells. “And you? I know you were worried.”

Dorothea's heart ached for Dimitri and she was silent for a moment when he finished, absorbing his words. He and Felix had known each other since they were young. The thought of pining away like that for someone, for so long...it seemed unimaginable but wasn't, because Dorothea felt it, too.

"I was. And am. But they're stubborn. They're reckless and stupid, but they always seem to find a way out of things like this. When they were apart, Sylvain was...he's a very capable pilot, Dimitri, but the spark wasn't there. It was like he was a machine controlling a machine. I wish Felix could've been there to see the way his face lit up when he saw you two pop up on the radar on our first mission together."

She hummed softly, studying his face. "How far back do you and Felix go, anyway?"

From what Dimitri knew of Sylvain and how he knew Felix, those descriptions were right on the money. He allowed himself a small chuckle at her observation before quieting. It was a confusing series of emotions for one to feel. He was, on the one hand, happy to hear that the man was so despondent. He had lost an amazing man and he needed to feel that utter sense of loss for it to even register half of what Felix brought. But on the other, what was true of Sylvain, that had also been the case for Felix. When he had gathered him in his arms, when he had nosed at his neck, trailing his lips up, along his jaw, meeting his lips...Felix wasn't there.

"I know what you mean." Dimitri's voice was low and solemn. "It was similar with Felix. He...he was a shell of himself."

He paused before answering her question about their upbringing, lost in a sea of distant memories.

"We go back to when he was a child, when we both were. I was practically taken in by his father. Rodrigue and his eldest, Glenn, they were nearly as parental figures as I can recall. Felix, he was a little brother and we existed like that for many years, an odd, chosen family." He smiled wistfully past Dorothea. "He was always a bit of a spitfire and that was always part of his charm..." He let his voice trail off. "I know I don't need to tell you that we were together at a young age and that I still have feelings for him." He shook his head. "I am still the slightest bit jealous, but I don't believe that will ever truly go away...it hasn't after all these years apart."

Dorothea listened attentively to Dimitri, keeping tabs on the emotions that passed over his handsome features at each part of his tale. She couldn't imagine pining after someone for so long, let alone experiencing a taste of it before having it wrenched away.

"Dimitri, I'm sorry," she said. "I had no idea that you two had that kind of history. I'm not sure what to say, but for what it's worth... I'm proud of you. For doing the right thing, even if it's painful."

Her gaze went distant for a moment as she thought of Edelgard, whether she was safe, if she'd been deployed. If she was still piloting Hegemon Husk, and who was in there with her now.

"It'll never go away."

He didn't answer her question for pity, but just because she asked and...she was the only one that had ever done so. As such, he nodded, accepting her sentiments for what they were. They didn't change how he felt, but there was something to be said for a certain weight, if not lifted from his chest, *shared* for the first time.

As she continued speaking, her focus seemed to narrow. Dimitri saw her gaze shift into something real, something not oft seen other than when they were righting themselves in the Drift.

Questioning his movements, Dimitri reached out, tilting her chin gently. "I believe you. You know this to be a fact, don't you?"

Dorothea felt horribly exposed for a moment and suppressed a wince. For all her nosiness, she was not fond of showing her own hand, which was precisely what she had done.

"I do," she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. "I haven't seen her in months, Dima. And when we got the alert earlier, I..."

She'd been terrified, and she still was.

Dimitri watched her delicate, expressive features. There was a limit to what Dorothea chose to show others, but it seemed she had lost grip on that discipline for the moment.

And he couldn’t blame her.

For all the emotions he felt, he at least had contact with Felix. He at least was able to sate some of those emotions and underlying worries with the confidence to know he was okay…or would be. She, on the other hand, had no idea. Without that knowledge then came fear.

Dimitri slowly and gently extended his arms, gathering her into his barrel chest. As someone gathering a bird with a broken wing, he was careful to move, embracing her fully.

“I know, I felt it. And now? How are you?”

Moving in small, mechanical increments, Dorothea raised her arms to return the embrace. There was something comforting about being this close to such power, knowing that he could destroy her but chose instead to comfort her. She patted his upper back awkwardly, every instinct screaming at her to resist.

"I think I'll be all right," she said as she rested her head on his warm, broad chest. "In any case, there's nothing *we* can do about it either way. All we can do is wait, and hope."

Dorothea secretly hoped that either both of them would live, or both would die. She did not share this thought.

With one large hand, Dimitri smoothed at a kink in her otherwise flowing locks that tended to get bunched up but her helmet. His voice was low and the closest to kind that he could get. “If that changes, I hope you do not withhold it. It will only eat you from the inside.”

Breaking their embrace, he stepped back with a look of resigned agreement. “Waiting, indeed. Thank you, Thea. Talking with you was…enlightening.”

Dorothea gave him a short nod and though she struggled to meet his eyes, she forced herself to look at him all the same. Vulnerability did not suit her, she decided.

Chapter 41: Come Back to Me

Summary:

And there was Felix, pale like a ghost and horribly still on the bed. Without being asked, the nurse wheeled him over to the bedside. It was unnerving to see Felix looking so pale, so vulnerable, so unlike himself. He hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and leaning close to whisper, "Come back to me."

Chapter Text

Despite the shockingly vibrant nightmares he'd been having, Sylvain woke slowly, gradually, squinting and grasping at the sheets to ground himself as the world around him slowly came into view. He wondered if this was what it was like to be born.

A nurse bustled in to check his vitals. As he looked up at her, dazed, Sylvain thought about how her brusque demeanor and capable presence were comforting and how he wished his own mother had been like that.

"Felix." His mouth felt full of sand and his insides felt hollow. "Where is Felix?

"Gautier," she began in that same matter-of-fact tone, "he'll be fine. He hasn't woken up yet, before you ask. And it'll be a while before you can see him. You, my dear, managed to escape with only a few broken bones. Your clavicle was the worst, so please don't try to lift your arm. We worked so very hard to fix you, after all."

Sylvain nodded dumbly, unable to process anything other than the single most important fact in the universe: Felix was alive.

*

When Felix came to, oh how he wished he didn’t. He woke with a whimper that stretched out into a groan. When he tried to move, all he managed to do was slightly shift in the bed he was strapped down to.

Opening his eyes, bleary with streaming tears, his left arm from shoulder to fingertip was situated in a rigid, vaguely splint-like contraption held up by a system of pulleys. A pair of nurses rushed in, both tending to things unseen as Felix tried to follow them with his eyes, unable to move his neck.

He flipped his right arm up, feeling the telltale material of a brace at his neck. Another groan, this time of pure frustration, both nurses came to his bedside, checking him and the machines he was apparently connected to.

"S'vain," he murmured.

‘S–…Pilot Gautier? Yes, Mr. Gautier woke not too long ago and is currently in recovery. Please try and relax, Mr. Fraldarius. You need not exert yourself.’

The soft voice was enough to hold his attention while the second nurse had surreptitiously introduced the necessary dose of morphine into his IV.

When Felix drifted off next, his thoughts were blissfully empty. Sylvain was awake and that was enough.

Sylvain wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious--the hateful, traitorous, motherly nurse had slipped him something before she left, and it had been *strong.* He tried to lift his arm and bit his lip against a scream of agony as pain shot white-hot through his shoulder and down into the fractured bones.

After taking a moment to calm himself, he pressed the call button. A nurse arrived within seconds; Sylvain wasn't sure if it was the Gautier name or his status as a pilot that prompted the speed, but he didn't care.

"How long was I out?" And then: "Please take me to Felix."

His voice cracked on the last sentence, and apparently that was enough to plead his case because before he knew it, he was being bundled into a wheelchair and pushed down the hallway to Felix's room. The nurse knocked twice, sharply; Sylvain mentally substituted 'a haircut, two bits' as the door swung open.

And there was Felix, pale like a ghost and horribly still on the bed. Without being asked, the nurse wheeled him over to the bedside. It was unnerving to see Felix looking so pale, so vulnerable, so unlike himself. He hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and leaning close to whisper, "Come back to me."

For the time being and the time in between, Felix felt no pain and didn't stir.

When the two new visitors entered his room, Felix remained still, save for his shallow breaths and the dangerously small, ragged dips and raises of his chest.

He saw nothing, but Felix felt a familiar large, calloused paw grab his hand, far too delicately for his tastes. He wanted to chastise him and correct the obvious error. He wanted to ask if he thought he was so fragile and he wanted to grip that large hand and show him how it was to be done. But none of the input transferred from his mind to his small, weakened hand, curling only with some basic instinct around Sylvain's anything. From some distant place, somewhere very far away, he heard a faint, scared prayer.

'Come back to me.'

Come back from what? He must've heard wrong. There was nothing to come back from; he was right there. Again, he wished to correct Sylvain. And again, nothing. No sound, no movement of his lips, no input, no vision. It was only then that somewhere, Felix realized something must've been wrong. But how something could be so wrong when he felt fine...more than fine, actually. The crick in his neck had gone, as well as the ache in his left arm. Actually, Felix had the distinct feeling he had never felt more relaxed than he did right now. Perhaps all he needed was a short rest. That seemed for the best. He could correct Sylvain later. He wanted to keep his eyes closed just a bit longer...

His eyelids fluttered as whatever tension existed in his hand went boneless, limp in Sylvain's hand.

Alarms and blinking lights flared to life in the connected machines.

His already low blood pressure plummeted, dropping steadily by the second as Felix entered into Cardiogenic shock. The two nurses that had responded initially sprang back to life, barking orders as scrubbed medical staff entered, leaving no room for extraneous parties.

And then there was chaos all around him and he was being dragged away once more, oblivious to everything except the roaring in his ears and the sound of his voice breaking from his screams.

Chapter 42: Good Morning Starshine

Summary:

Sylvain was jarred from a dark and restless sleep by the feeling of familiar fingers weaving through his hair. At first, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, unwilling to open them for fear that this was another cruel dream. He'd been by Felix's bedside day and night for close to a month and had outwardly refused to give up hope, even though he felt more and more despondent each time he entered the room and saw his lover lying pale and still on the hospital bed.

Chapter Text

Bleary vision and the sensation of a searing headache were the first things that registered when Felix woke. Raising his fists to his eyes, he rubbed them punishingly hard until he saw stars. Yet, somehow those rapidly expanding and contracting constellations otherwise cleared his vision enough to take in his surroundings.

Lights were dim in his hospital room. On the bed, he was still attached to multiple machines and drips. And in the corner, slumped over in a terribly uncomfortable looking chair was Sylvain. Comically non-proportionate to the small seat, his body draped and hung off the sides, back, and front, all at the same time.

Moving gingerly and breathing laboriously, Felix twisted himself, sliding off the bed, already annoyed at the situation for how much of a fucking production this was becoming. Finally on his two canary yellow-socked feet, he pulled and rolled the tower he was hooked up to with him as he approached the man.

Felix watched him for a moment as he neared; familiar, soft snores rang clearly in his ear. Felix reached out, threading his hands lightly in his hair. Thick locks of red hung slightly longer than he had remembered, curling perfectly, just that bit more unruly, just like him. The thought made Felix’s heart flutter.

Beep.

Apparently that wasn’t just flowery prose.

Felix froze, his hand gently cupping Sylvain’s head as he stirred.

Sylvain was jarred from a dark and restless sleep by the feeling of familiar fingers weaving through his hair. At first, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter, unwilling to open them for fear that this was another cruel dream. He'd been by Felix's bedside day and night for close to a month and had outwardly refused to give up hope, even though he felt more and more despondent each time he entered the room and saw his lover lying pale and still on the hospital bed.

He counted to three, mentally whispering Felix with each outbreath, then opened his eyes. When Felix's face came into focus, he wrapped his arms around the smaller man in a crushing embrace and drew him into his lap, kissing him softly all over his face.

"Fe, you came back," he gasped softly. And then: "What the fuck are you doing out of bed?"

Other than the slight clunkiness of his medical tethers, Felix went freely into the crushing grip of Sylvain’s embrace. He let his face be turned into Sylvain’s many kisses, their soft touches searing back into his memory.

Sylvain’s breathless statement of fact followed by an even more obvious question prompted Felix to move. In his lap, Felix brought his hands to Sylvain’s stubbly cheeks. It was here that Felix was able to get a truly good look at Sylvain. Yes, his hair was longer, but there was more. His cheeks were shadowed deeper than Felix had recalled ever seeing previously. But his eyes… His boyish good looks and handsome visage were never in question, but there was a certain weariness to his look now. Even in the poor light, Felix saw the heavy, dark bags under his eyes.

Felix’s heart ached at the sight due to its implication. That didn’t bode well… But he was here. That counted for almost anything. He answered unconcernedly, “Of course I did. And I couldn’t very much get to you if I was in bed.”

He tilted his head back, planting a featherlight kiss on his lips, only separating to look into those eyes that he had missed. “You look like shit, Sylvain.”

"I know, Felix," he responded with a light laugh, pleased that he was well enough to be blunt. He gathered Felix into his arms and carried him back to the bed, then crowded in behind him. "Didn't sleep much. I was in here, mostly. But it meant that I got to eat the infirmary food instead of the dog chow they feed us in the mess hall, so it wasn't all bad."

That was true; it hadn't been all *bad.* It had been all-fucking-terrible. At the beginning, he'd nearly lost it. His own injuries weren't all that bad--a few broken bones and a nasty laceration down the side of his face, which had been expertly repaired. Now, only a thin, fading pink scar remained.

Sylvain buried his face in Felix's neck and wrapped his arms around him again, completely unsurprised by how touch-starved he felt. Aside from medical examinations, Sylvain had rejected all touch since Fulcrum, too consumed with worry to even register a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"This is a stupid question, but how are you now? I was...I was terrified, Fe."

Even with all the accoutrements and tag-alongs, Sylvain picked up and moved Felix easily back into bed, slotting himself behind him.

“Riding my coattails,” he responded sardonically. It was best to keep it light, to stay away from all of the things that alluded to. Knowing that Sylvain was terminally worried and had not left his side with no care for himself…it filled Felix with an odd mix of revulsion and self-hatred, as well as a deeper love for the man.

When Sylvain descended upon him, Felix moved on instinct, extending his neck and wrapping his arms and hands around the different parts of Sylvain, facilitating their all-encompassing embrace.

It was only a stupid question if he answered it as it wasn’t intended. Felix paused for a moment before answering. “I mean, I have a headache and I feel like my arm is throbbing a bit, but that’s all I can tell?” He looked down at the yellowed bruises that came into focus over the back of his hand around a rather large IV needle embedded at its center.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” At this, he at least had the grace to look chastened. Hand holding Sylvain’s head, he rubbed small circles in the junction of  his skull and neck. “How are you in all of this?”

Sylvain winced delicately at the assortment of tubes and lifted Felix's hand to kiss the side of his wrist. He didn't dare touch the bruised skin and redirected his gaze to Felix's gaunt face. He couldn't remember ever seeing him look so frail, and it was frightening to know just how close Sylvain had come to losing him.

"I'm just fine now that you're back. Don't apologize to me, Fe. There's nothing to apologize for. We killed the bastard and there has only been one occurrence since then. Small one. Not sure who took it, but they knew better than to bother me."

With a raised brow and a sly little smile, he kissed the tip of Felix's nose. "Have any good dreams while you were away?"

There he was. There was his Sylvain.

More than the lack of kaiju occurrences or his words, the sly smile that played at his lips filled Felix with much needed relief. He regarded Sylvain with a slightly arched brow, scandalized. “I’m sure if I did, there would’ve been a ton of very confusing readouts on all these machines.” Felix smirked unceremoniously at the mere thought.

But his look morphed into something softer as he burrowed back into the expanse of Sylvain’s chest. “But even if I don’t remember, I don’t see how I couldn’t have dreamt of you.”

If someone had told Sylvain six months ago that Felix would be saying something so heartbreakingly sweet, he would have responded in one of three ways:

"Fuck off";

"Are we talking about the same person?"; and,

"Boy, if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you."

But now, nestled here in his arms and speaking so gently, Sylvain couldn't imagine it any other way. He pressed his forehead against Felix's and looked longingly into the lovely eyes he'd missed so much.

"How much do you remember? Of Fulcrum, I mean."

Felix melted into the moment of tranquility Sylvain supplied him with. A body built for power, gentle eyes that matched the smile he now showed, Felix didn’t know how he ended up so lucky to have such a man hold him at all, nor in such esteem.

Truth be told, Felix didn’t care to answer the question asked. But lying wasn’t something he was willing to do to Sylvain. “Unfortunately,” he began, “I remember it surprisingly well. At least until I blacked out.”

Felix thought back. “I remember how awkward and creepy it looked, how long it was when it reared–” How I had made my peace with dying if that meant you lived– “and just how nasty a color it turned with your flames.”

"I haven't been able to eat bacon since," Sylvain deadpanned with a grimace. "That used to be one of my favorite foods, Felix! Even the shitty bargain-basement kind they serve here!"

He fell silent for a moment, stroking Felix's hair and pondering what to say next. There were so many words swirling around his mind, so many things he wanted to tell Felix from the inconsequential ("I found a rubber band ball stuck to the underside of our favorite table with a piece of gum today and yes, before you ask, I left it there") to the monumental ("I love you and if you die, I will die").

"At least we gave as good as we got. That was the one thing that kept me going all this time. Dorothea and Dimitri are both fine, by the way. Scared as hell. They've been in here a lot. I think they might even be starting to tolerate me now, so that's something."

They sat there in companionable silence. Only the soft, dampened sounds of Sylvain’s hand as it passed over Felix’s loose hair. When he next spoke, a small look of relief did pass over his features. “I’m glad to hear it. Fuck Fulcrum. But, I’m glad we were able to get it and that they were right there too.”

Still not meeting his eyes, Felix just held Sylvain closer. “I’m glad they are well, but I’m glad you guys had each other. And are all tolerating each other.” The idea of Sylvain having people to come back to and support him was something of a comfort in Felix’s past decision making.

“But still,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make anyone, much less you, worry.”

"Please stop apologizing. It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault."

Sylvain had spent nine days and nights torturing himself over all the what ifs before falling into an exhausted, dreamless slumber for a full eighteen hours. When he'd awoken in a panic and rushed back to Felix's side, he found that all of the guilt and self-loathing had evaporated. It was in that moment that he decided that sleep truly was Nature's fast-forward button.

"Don't fuck Fulcrum, by the way! That thing was awful. I mean, I had pictured a sex position almost exactly like that before and was going to ask if you wanted to try it, but now...ugh. Let's focus on right now, okay? You're alive and awake and I have you." 

He smoothed Felix's hair away from his face and began to weave it into a twisted, messy braid, unable to keep his hands off him even for a second.

Felix was in the process of telling Sylvain he could be sorry if he wanted to when the creative image of Fulcrum came into question throwing off all Felix’s prior thoughts. “What kind of a sex position was that?” Felix turned and cocked his head, looking askance. How would one even…

In his quick, but ever-expanding wealth of knowledge, Felix thought himself a creative lover but, obviously if Sylvain was seeing sex positions in kaijus, well, suffice it to say, Felix still had a ways to go.

But he was right. They were alive. They had each other. Felix had what felt like the most lopsided braid, but they had each other goddamnit. No kaiju, no person, no force in the goddamn universe could stop that.

He sighed into Sylvain’s body, eyes up, meeting his from the practically cradled position. “I love you, Sylvain. And as weird as it is to say, I missed you.”

"It was...never mind. I'd have to draw a diagram and I'm not sure if it's even physically possible. Even for you, my bendy partner."

His heart melted even more at the tender words and he smiled down at Felix, eyes prickling at the edges with tears. The hand that had been entwined in his hair drifted down to cup his cheek fondly as he responded.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I missed you. Thank you for coming back to me, Fe."

It would be a lie to say that the moniker of ‘bendy partner’ didn’t come with a certain level of pride. Further, it would be a lie to say that the response at the tip of his tongue wasn’t something along the lines of *I might need you to stretch me out soon to reclaim that*.

But salacious thoughts and innuendo aside, Felix wouldn’t have traded anything for the way Sylvain looked at him in this moment. Felix cupped his face, his rough and bruised hand to his cheek. “Partners don’t leave. I’m with you, Sylvain.”

The look in Felix's eyes was difficult to read, not because Sylvain didn't know him well enough but because there were so many things behind those lovely warm eyes, still a bit sleepy and heavy-lidded in a way that made him look both vulnerable and irresistible. 

He turned his head to plant a single lingering kiss on Felix's palm, his own hands reaching out to splay around Felix's waist and hold him there. 

"I'm with you. Always. And we should probably get on that whole 'getting married and helping me shed my family name like a snake sheds its skin' thing once you're better. I'm tired of close calls like this."

Felix remained in a stunned silence as Sylvain’s gentleness and adoration flooded his system, nearly overwhelming him. Marriage…that was something he wanted. Felix felt the tips of his ears heat up under his hair as he willed his face to remain in a neutral…

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Fucking heart rate machines.

 

Chapter 43: The Earth Says Hello

Summary:

Felix held his breath as he watched Sylvain’s descending finger, his skin prickling where it traveled. He couldn’t suppress the chill that rolled through his body, reacting immediately to the most pointed, yet innocuous of his touches.

Chapter Text

Felix’s eyes darted to the side, glaring absolute daggers that might have killed a person had an organic being been on the receiving end of that particular look.

Face now most assuredly scarlet, he looked away, suddenly very interested in the pale pattern of his thin gown. “Yeah. Probably,” he agreed.

Sylvain lifted his head to glare at the monitor in annoyance. Though his hand stilled, it did not move; he needed to reassure him that this was real, that Felix himself was real and really here with him.

"I wonder," he said softly before reaching out and punching at the keys. "I think we may be able to change the threshold on this thing to read as normal. Unless you object?"

He lay down again and fixed Felix with the simmering look he knew always made Felix weak in the knees, though he refrained from going any further to allow him the choice.

Felix huffed out a laugh of annoyance, happy at least to find both he and Sylvain on the same page regarding intrusive medical equipment. But when Felix next looked at Sylvain, he was not expecting the particular look he was presented with nor the implication of his suggestion. That being said, he was not opposed. Far from it.

As a more captive audience than he had been in quite some time, Felix's eyes, already lidded from overall exhaustion, glazed over as he shook his head. Wordlessly, he arched himself back, stretching and extending the rather mundane lines of his body, truly opening himself to and searching for more contact with the one who never failed in uncovering and fulfilling his desires

Sylvain smirked at the immediate response to his touch, as if he weren't equally eager for this. Desperate, he corrected himself. He was desperate for any contact with Felix and planned to remedy that.

"What would you like me to do, Felix?" Sylvain purred in his ear before tracing a path with his finger down, and down...and stopped just shy of where he knew Felix most wanted him. "It's been so long, too long. I'd do anything for you."

A small part of him was frightened that he'd forgotten what to do, what Felix liked; he had stubbornly pushed those thoughts out of his mind after using them as 'inspiration' a few times and feeling dirty and wrong afterward.

Felix held his breath as he watched Sylvain’s descending finger, his skin prickling where it traveled. He couldn’t suppress the chill that rolled through his body, reacting immediately to the most pointed, yet innocuous of his touches.

With more effort than he would ever care to admit, Felix pressed up, situating himself closer to Sylvain. Still in between his legs, he shifted to the side, leaning towards Sylvain’s left. He let his hand move, rubbing up and higher along Sylvain’s thigh. As if he was re-learning his partner’s body, Felix let his palm wander, pulsing pressure into the meat of Sylvain’s outstretched thigh.

Felix angled his hand further, fingers ghosting the length at his hip. Meeting Sylvain’s gaze, he spoke low and breathy. “I want, need you to touch me as I touch you. Please.”

Sylvain whimpered softly in the back of his throat before dropping his hand to a similar position, thumb brushing over the head of Felix's cock through the thin, cheap fabric of his hospital gown just enough to tease. After taking a moment to breathe and re-center himself, he tore his eyes from Felix's hand and looked up to meet his gaze.

"Then show me," he murmured, eyes locking on Felix's lips, utterly intoxicated by the breathy words. He struggled and failed not to thrust lightly into Felix's hand with another whimper, then pulled himself back; he was far too eager to see what his partner had in mind and had no intention of taking the wheel.

Felix gripped Sylvain firmly when he felt the pulse of his hips, the slight thrust into his waiting hand. A low growl driven more by lust than Felix’s cognizant actions escaped his throat as he bit into his plush lower lip.

Sitting up, Felix motioned jerkily towards the door. “Go lock it and take off your pants.” Red now ferociously bled into his cheeks, but that was of very little concern to him at the moment. “I want your tongue down my throat and my hand on your cock.”

Sylvain practically lunged for the door to lock it, then placed a chair beneath the doorknob for good measure. He shucked off his pants and slithered back onto the bed to straddle Felix's lap, though he didn't dare rest his full weight on him.

"We'll have to be quiet," he whispered as he leaned in. "Can you do that for me, Fe?"

Without waiting for an answer, he gripped the back of Felix's neck before sealing their lips together. Sylvain allowed himself a moment to relish the sensation of Felix's lips on his, the way he tasted, then coaxed his lips apart for a voracious kiss.

“N--”

Without waiting for anything, but really? Why did there need to be? It’s not like Felix could wait nor deny the man. He met his crashing lips with as much fervor as he could muster, moaning into his mouth, tasting the man as if he had been days, weeks, months, years lost in the desert…and maybe he had been. Sylvain’s probing tongue, possessive fingers, and incredible heat that emanated from his body, Felix thirsted for it all and Sylvain was the perfect reservoir to adequately quench his needs.

He yawned into his mouth, preoccupying his senses. Felix grabbed onto Sylvain’s lower back and pulled him closer, the sway of his stiffening member just that much closer. His fingers moved in between their bodies as he ghosted his touch against Sylvain.

Sylvain's response to the scant stimulation was immediate: an involuntary jerk of his hips; an extreme arch of his back down and toward Felix; a low, dirty moan that rumbled from deep in his chest before being muffled by Felix's mouth.

He tried to mumble a request for more before remembering that his mouth was otherwise occupied and instead settled for nonverbals. His tongue slid easily inside to tangle with Felix's, breath moist and hot against Sylvain's cheek. Encouraged by Felix's touch, he dipped his hips down low to grind their lengths together slowly, as though they had all the time in the world.

The slow drag drew out a groan from Felix’s soul directly into Sylvain’s mouth. He shivered as the hot flesh laid against his own, feeling Sylvain’s  muscles contract under his hand.

The urgency and the intense feelings that the prolonged contact drew from Felix was something similar to what he saw in Sylvain. Knowing he was under the same urgency, the same absolute need for the other, it was something that Felix truly couldn’t focus on in this moment. He was already at risk of losing himself physically, he couldn’t also handle the emotional load of such dedication and hunger.

Felix squeezed into Sylvain’s side each time he thrusted. He dipped his head, opening his jaw for his lover’s easier access. His free hand roaming up Sylvain’s shirt, searching out and thumbing over his sensitive nipple.

If Felix was trying to bait Sylvain into being less sappy about their reunion, he had succeeded. The first jerk to his nipple drew a harsh cry and he dragged his tongue over Felix's before closing his lips and sucking.

Meanwhile, his hands wandered further south to push up the hem of the hideous hospital gown to claim his prize. Taking Felix's length in hand, drawing delicious sounds from him...these were all things Sylvain had missed, and badly at that.

The pace of his hips picked up slightly and he found himself panting with every forward thrust, trying to hold onto his tightly-wound control.

And if Sylvain wanted Felix to be silent, he needed to not do any fucking thing. But as it was increasingly clear that was never going to happen, when Sylvain set his voracious mouth to Felix’s, he was powerless, weak to his every movement.

Felix moaned, whimpering into his mouth. The intense pleasure of his hand mixed with the pain of his lips pulled at him in equal measures. The exquisite feelings he was feeling, he wanted Sylvain to feel them in tandem. Felix moved his hand around, cupping and rolling Sylvain’s taught sack as he moved against him, his thumb never leaving his erect nipple.

Sylvain let out a sharp gasp at the addition of Felix's hand and bucked his hips wantonly. In that moment, senses completely overwhelmed, he found it nearly impossible to discern where he ended and Felix began. The opposite was also true, but Sylvain had only a second or two to ponder the curious nature of their relationship dynamic before he was whining pathetically at the twin sensations.

"Fe...Felix," he stuttered, drawing back just enough to speak. "What do you want? This?" 

He began to move his hand with a new fervor, gaze focused intently on the other man's face to drink in his every reaction.

"Y-yes, Sy-Syl- fuck- vain,” Felix panted. He fell forward, his lips on Sylvain's neck, sucking a fast bruise into his collarbone and the base of his throat.

It was the oddest sensation. It had been some time since he had any interaction and it truly hadn't even been that long since he and Sylvain began their torrid, rapid relationship but everything they did, every move and every sound that he made sent waves of needy pleasure through his entire being.

Moving his hands insistently, soft gasps of air escaped his lips against Sylvain's skin. How he was stroking him, the closeness of their bodies, the way that he fucking smelled that was just so indelibly Sylvain...he wasn't going to last. His breath began to hitch..."Sylvain...I'm, fuck, I'm close..."

Hearing Felix almost begging for release beneath him, vulnerable and needy, awakened something unnameable in Sylvain. He wrapped long fingers around both of their lengths and tugged once before simply holding his hand in a firm grip as he rutted down against Felix.

"Gonna make you feel so good, Fe," he whispered, though his voice held more than a hint of a tremor and his muscles were tense from the effort of holding himself back.

Of all the things that Felix strove for, control was one of them. And more times than not, he was happy to cede it to Sylvain. The love they shared between each other as lovers spoke volumes; however, it was that innate trust they held as partners that made for that comfort and confidence.

The throbbing ache up and down his left side grew to an acute pain, sharply punctuating through the immense pleasure he felt, finally too pointed to ignore. When Sylvain took hold of him, Felix moved his hands to hang limply around Sylvain's strong frame. He whined, rutting fruitlessly into his hand and against Sylvain's length, rasping out iterations of his partner's name, babbling sweet, incoherent nothings as he approached his climax.

Sensing Felix's discomfort, Sylvain planted three hasty kisses on his lips before slithering down his body and between his legs. Deciding to go for the novelty of the situation, he slipped his head beneath the flimsy hospital gown and ghosted warm breath across the tender skin of Felix's inner thigh.

Then, fully intending to make good on his promise, he took Felix's entire length into his mouth and began to suck furiously, desperate to show him just how much he'd missed him over the last few weeks. He slipped a hand between his legs and began to stroke himself in earnest, muffling his own cries against Felix's skin.

The pressure and suction on his length in the one, two, three passes were all it took. Felix bit into his fist as he arched forward, jutting his hips up in weak, stuttering thrusts as he came. The muffled exclamation ebbed away in groans and whimpers as Felix came down from his white out, his eyes rolling back in his head as he jutted up slightly.

Sylvain's hands automatically went to Felix's hips, holding him fast to the bed as he swallowed every drop. As he drew back slowly, he carefully swirled his tongue along the tip of Felix's spent length to clean it.

He re emerged from under the gown and sat up on his heels, licking his lips as he eyed the glorious sight before him: pale skin painted with a full flush, parted lips, messy hair, heaving chest. Sylvain allowed his gaze to skim down Felix's torso and rest between his legs as he came into his own hand with a soft groan.

If seeing Sylvain jack himself off and coming into his hand was the last thing that Felix saw before he died, he would’ve died a happy man. Not only did that gorgeous mouth suck like it was his goddamn job, but the awe in which he looked at Felix, as if he was something precious and worth waiting for. And to Sylvain, he was.

After fumbling for the tissues beside the bed to clean himself up, Sylvain flopped down beside Felix on the mattress.

"I missed you, you know? And not just this, but...especially this."

When Sylvain flopped next to him, Felix curled next to him, his left side up in the air, free from pressure. “I’m always going to miss that,” he agreed breathlessly. He reached down, pulling the thin hospital bedding up and over their bodies, placing kisses on the nape of his neck. “I won’t apologize anymore. So,” he started as he nuzzled into his neck, “thank you for being here for me.”

"Always, Fe," Sylvain responded warmly. He nuzzled into Felix for a moment before his eyes shot wide with realization. "Your machines. The door. Everything."

He sprang from the bed and hastily reprogrammed the monitor, unlocked the door, and hopped back into bed. With that particular crisis averted, he felt free to return to Felix and gather him into his arms.

"You should rest a little, you know," he said as he planted those three kisses to Felix's forehead. "I imagine I wore you out more than a little."

Chapter 44: Visiting Hours

Summary:

Word spread around the base of pilot Fraldarius’ recovery and change in status. When the news reached Dimitri, he stopped all paperwork and made his way to the sick bay immediately.

Chapter Text

Sylvain waited for a little while after tucking Felix in, lying beside him with his lips pressed to his temple and his arms around him. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft, steady sound of Felix's breathing and though he could still feel the stark outline of bones beneath layers of thin cloth and taut skin, it was comforting. His partner, his lover, hell, his goddamn soul twin was still alive and in one piece and he would eventually be okay.

After pressing a light, lingering kiss to Felix's lips and stroking his cheekbone, Sylvain straightened the thin blankets, checked the machines once more, and left the room with the quiet *click* of the lock his only companion.

The flickering yellow-green light from the overhead lamps made his own skin look even sicklier; he had spent several weeks away from the sun and his freckles had all but vanished, the veins sticking out ugly blue-green from his forearms and wrists. He dropped his hands to his side and slumped down against the door with his head tilted back, then closed his eyes.

Word spread around the base of pilot Fraldarius’ recovery and change in status. When the news reached Dimitri, he stopped all paperwork and made his way to the sick bay immediately.

There, slumped against the door was fucking Sylvain. What use and purpose did the asshole have? He’s the one that had endangered Felix in the first fucking place. And now look at him, just sitting at the door like a dog that had been kicked out. The huge blonde man gritted his teeth together as he began to stalk forward.

However, a group of physicians cut him off, obscuring the way, crowding around the door, one of them leading the red head away citing something about visiting hours. Rather than continue, Dimitri instead turned to go wait in his personal quarters. It was enough for the moment to know Felix was in better hands and away from Sylvain.

*

The following day, Dimitri was back and checked in at the nurse’s station early. As he waited to be taken back to visit, he thought back to the previous month. Everything was going so well between them. They had nearly perfected the Drift along with their battle maneuvers with Grim Reaver. What would have possessed him to go and abandon all of that for the largest kaiju sighting? But Dimitri grimaced. It wasn’t a what, but a who.

His whirling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his own name as he was called back.

“Yeah, come in.”

Opening the door, his stomach clenched and dropped at the sight of Felix. His small body looked more frail than ever, pallor paper white, hooked up to so many machines…it looked wrong.

*

Felix turned his head when the knock to his door came. Already he would tell it wasn’t Sylvain. Not because the man didn’t knock or anything, but he could just tell. There was something in his presence, even sight unseen that Felix could feel and whatever that was, it wasn’t present. It wasn't Sylvain.

“Yeah, come in,” he answered the timid knock.

A beast of a man with bright blonde hair entered, one crystalline eye staring at him. “Dimitri…hey.” Since he had woken up, realization of the gravity of what they had done sunk in to Felix. Sure, they accomplished the mission and everything had obviously turned out fine, they had each neglected and actively chose not to engage with their co-pilots. Such a sinking feeling coiled at his gut as his eyes were on the blonde’s walking to the side of his bed.

“Dimitri, I’m sorry, I can expl-– oof!”

In one second the man towered over the side of his bed, the next, he was latched onto Felix, head buried in his chest. “Dimitri…?” 

The voice that answered his own was broken.

"I was so worried about you!"

Stunned and not knowing what to do, Felix let his arms fall, corralling and encircling him with uncertain pats to his extra large frame.

They sat there in silence for some time until Felix finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry. That I went without you. That was stupid and disrespectful. As your co-pilot, I left you alone. I’m really sorry for doing that to you. That wasn’t deserved.” And if given the opportunity? He wouldn’t have changed a thing. Felix let that particular piece of information remain unspoken.

Unable to find his deep voice, Dimitri returned his words with actions. He remained close as he stood up, cupping Felix’s face in his overly large hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Felix allowed himself to be maneuvered by the suddenly shaky man, providing light commentary as he moved, meeting his watery gaze. “I’m fine. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Being able to hold Felix in his arms, being able to feel him breathing, that thrum of blood through his veins, that was the proof he needed. He was okay…he wasn’t left alone.

Seeing Felix laying in the hospital bed had only brought images of Rodrigue and Glenn to the forefront of his mind. They all looked so much alike… That he wasn’t able to protect Felix like he couldn’t protect them, Dimitri didn’t know if he would ever be able to forgive himself. But for now, feeling him in his arms, against his palms, and knowing Felix was safe, that would have to be enough for the moment.

 

Chapter 45: Baby's Breath and Bated Breath

Summary:

The waxy petals at his nose tickled but the combined aromas were something he practically chased, shoving his face further into the bundle, breathing the floral scents, feeling the very real weight of his lover, even the dull throb at his left side. (To experience a loss of his senses, to have stimuli and be unable to react was utterly terrifying.

Chapter Text

Sylvain had spent the better part of the morning wandering in and out of the other patients' rooms, throwing winks and cracking jokes and saying things like, "Oh, my leg? Well, you should see the other guy!" A few of the injured cadets--women, mostly--offered him a flower from the bouquets dotting their rooms. Sylvain surreptitiously stole a few more from other rooms and by the time he'd made it to Felix's door, even his large hands were having difficulty holding onto the massive bouquet.

The door was partially ajar when he arrived, which was strange, but perhaps a nurse had been in. He paused for a moment to rub at his tired eyes, brush an errant lock of hair away from his face, then entered. 

"Felix, I--oh."

Sylvain's face fell and his shoulders drooped when it dawned on him just who was on the bed with Felix, his Felix, cradling like something precious that didn't belong to him. He sat the bouquet gently on the side table before sitting down at the edge of the bed near Felix's feet, far away from Dimitri.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

“You’re not,” was Felix’s honest and immediate answer. He saw the large collection of flowers with a confused look, but it changed to concern when he noted the distance Sylvain put himself at.

Felix patted Dimitri, offering a small push to his chest, jumpstarting his upwards movement. “Thank you for coming to see me. They’re taking good care of me. I’ll be out of here soon if I keep showing positive strides so, please.” Some pleading now seeped into his voice. “Don’t worry about me. And if you do,” Felix gestured around, “just stop by and see for yourself. Okay?”

Dimitri nodded. “I’m happy to visit again and even more so to see you are well. I will be back.”

The blonde man turned and left the room without another word. It didn’t go unnoticed that Dimitri didn’t acknowledge Sylvain. Felix turned his gaze to his partner down by his feet. 

“Come here.”

"Hey there, sunshine." 

Sylvain ignored Dimitri as he left and squirmed up the bed to wrap both arms around Felix. "Like the spoils? I think I hit up at least...ten rooms. Yeah, ten."

He reached across the table for the bouquet and held it up to Felix, tickling his nose with the buds. The bouquet was mostly the standard array--roses, daisies, baby's breath. And a single, tiny bright-orange tiger lily bud peeking up from the bottom.

Sylvain brushed Feilx's hair with careful fingers before settling the small bud into a lock of hair behind his ear and capping it off with a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"How are you feeling today?"

The waxy petals at his nose tickled but the combined aromas were something he practically chased, shoving his face further into the bundle, breathing the floral scents, feeling the very real weight of his lover, even the dull throb at his left side. To experience a loss of his senses, to have stimuli and be unable to react was utterly terrifying. These small moments he was afforded, they weren’t things he would ever take for granted again. 

“Pretty good haul.” He gathered more of Sylvain into him as a particularly unique flower was stuck in his hair. He looked at the burst of orange at his temple as he answered mildly, “Can’t complain.” Lie. “They still have me on pain meds, so that’s helping. Doc says I’m healing better than expected which is only a bit concerning about how they thought it was supposed to be. But that’s it.”

Felix looked down at Sylvain, tilting his face up, thumbing gently just underneath the bags of his eyes. “How are you doing? Don’t lie.”

"Fe, I think they expected both of us dead, " Sylvain said softly, closing his eyes in a wince as the ugly word left his mouth. "I don't remember much from when they pulled us out. I remember fighting like hell to get to you and they must have jammed a whole-ass knitting needle in my neck because after that, I was out for three days."

He shivered and bundled Felix into his arms, wanting to keep him as close as possible without aggravating his injuries. The gentle touch at the bruised-looking flesh beneath his eyes brought a prickle of tears and a gentle smile.

"I'm just fine, Fe, now that you're okay. What did Dimitri want?"

The idea that Sylvain had been in danger of something similar or as dire of a scenario was terrifying. But to see his watery gaze, wet with clear concern, it made his heart ache. But the question posed shook him from going down that particular rabbit hole.

“Dimitri was concerned and wanted to see how I was since waking up I guess.” Felix looked away, guilt crashing into him on all fucking sides. The guilt and the awful feelings he had put Sylvain through, he had seen that look on Dimitri’s face before. His brother and father’s funerals were held in tandem and Dimitri had looked like his world had been ripped from him. Felix hated it then and he hated it even more when it was directed at him.

"He made you feel guilty, even though he didn't mean to," Sylvain translated in a low voice, proud of himself for keeping the building bitterness out of his tone. The last thing he wanted to do was rattle Felix with his own securities, not when he was doing so well, not when he'd nearly lost him entirely...

"He's been pretty worried about you," he added as he shoved the flowers to the foot of the bed and curled up around his partner. "Any news on when they're going to spring you?"

An arched brow was the only reaction Felix gave to Sylvain's terrifyingly accurate description of what had happened, from Dimitri's feelings to Felix's own. And as such, he didn't deny it. He wouldn't be fooling anyone and instead chose to move right past it just like Sylvain had. It was just a fact. Sky's blue, Felix felt guilty.

Felix closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling both through his nose, not trusting his voice in the instant to respond to the addendum of Dimitri's mental state. He had seen how Sylvain had flinched at the small truth that they likely weren't expected to limp out of there. What he should do in this moment is reassure his partner and provide some semblance of comfort. But Felix was blunt. And Felix was Felix was fucking Felix. Little good the breath did him as he fucking ran his mouth when he next spoke. "He was worried about two fucking corpses that have been in the ground for years and maybe adding a third."

Gathering tighter around Sylvain, Felix let out a sigh into dark auburn hair. "They haven't given an exact day because they don't want me to fucking push it. But I feel like it has to be soon." He sighed, "It has to be..."

"I'm sure it will be," Sylvain responded in a soothing tone, stroking Felix's disheveled hair and smoothing it into a lopsided ponytail to hold it back from his pallid face. "Maybe we could talk them into taking you outside for a bit? I feel like the fresh air would do you good. Change of scenery. I'm sure this place is already getting old, even though you've been asleep for most of the time you've been here."

He planted a triad of kisses down the bridge of Felix's nose, then inclined his head gently to capture his lips. Even now, here safely in his lover's arms, Sylvain found himself unable to calm the storm raging inside him. He bit back the fury again before speaking.

"I just wish he'd lay off you, you know. Dimitri. I feel like he's doing more harm than good."

Leaning into his touch, Felix pressed his head against Sylvain's lips as he made his way down his features. He caught Sylvain's cheeks between his hands, holding him still and close. "Sylvain. I am losing my fucking mind and I am about to pull out my fucking hair. If you can convince these people to let me go outside I will love you until the day I fucking die." But, that truly wasn't that much of a stretch. That had almost come to fruition.

Felix let his thumb ghost his cheeks as he answered the gentle kiss in turn with a soft press of his lips. Remaining close, it was hard to miss the restraint Felix could now pick as part of Sylvain's perfected façade. In an attempt to pacify, Felix spoke evenly.

"It's fine. He came, comes from a good place." Whether he was speaking to Sylvain or reminding himself was unclear. "I have a guilty conscience but I always have. No one is going to change that. I'm fine."

Sylvain sighed, conceding defeat...for now. With another hasty kiss to Felix's lips, he was off the bed and out the door to the nurse's station.

The nurse behind the counter was middle-aged with a heavy face and heavier eye makeup, but Sylvain could tell she had been pretty enough in her younger days. He leaned into the counter on one elbow and spoke in a low, seductive tone.

"Hey, gorgeous." 

A pause; a bat of his lashes; a hint of his most winning smile.

"My partner in there is looking mighty pale, and I think a quick walk outside would do him a lot of good. Think I could borrow a wheelchair for a little bit?"

Within moments, he was back in Felix's room, presenting the only-marginally-scuffed wheelchair with a flourish.

"Your chariot awaits, my love."

Chapter 46: Chosen Family

Summary:

Sylvain's smile softened into something sweet and tender and he turned his head into the kiss, lips brushing over Felix's cheek. He could feel the subtle pressure of his cheeks against his own and realized he was smiling, really smiling, for the first time in a long, long time.

"Wanna get married out here?" he asked as he threw an arm over Felix's shoulders to cuddle him close. "Actual trees, mostly clear air, minimal war sounds..."

Beauty was fleeting and all the faces that he had seen of Sylvain, he never looked more beautiful than he did in this moment. Felix let himself be folded in even tighter into Sylvain’s hold.

Chapter Text

Felix couldn’t stop the smile that came to his lips. Unhooking himself from what he could and un-clipping and re-clipping his IV, Felix was set in the chair. Though, once he was situated, he motioned for Sylvain to bend closer. Once lower, Felix reached and wrenched his head down, planting a firm kiss on his lips, followed by a second, soft press of his lips. 

“I fucking love you, Sylvain Jose.”

Sylvain's eyes crinkled at the corners and prickled with unshed tears at the tender words he'd missed hearing so dearly. He completed their triad with a lingering kiss to his lips full of promises for later. 

"I love you more than words can say, Felix Fraldarius," he whispered back. 

Then he became all no-nonsense for a moment as he spread a blanket across Felix's lap to keep him warm and set out toward the small courtyard adjoining the ward. While it lacked its former splendor, there were still a few trees and flowers in bloom, and there were even one or two benches that won't stab your ass full of splinters when you sat down.

"You're lucky, you know," Sylvain said as he picked what he hoped was the least splinter-y one. "Best seat in the house...well, second-best," he added. with a grin.  The first being my lap, he thought but did not say.

Though Sylvain’s kisses were easily among Felix’s favorite things in life, there was something to be said for the dedication in which he applied himself to Felix’s needs, regardless of what they happened to be. He mused on the thought as he was wheeled into the courtyard, thumbing at the corner of the knit blanket.

The extra care Sylvain showed him shouldn’t have been shocking, but that someone as amazing as him cared so much and yet still had ways of showing his love truly amazed and stunned Felix.

As they maneuvered to a bench, Felix’s eyes went to Sylvain upon hearing the unspoken part of his second-best seating arrangement. “A far second best,” he agreed. The gaze he met was similar to his own, one of understanding, one of agreement, and one of later.

Felix breathed deeply. It had rained recently. The sweet scent of earth and petrichor filled his senses as he visually relaxed. He sighed into his words, “I was just going crazy in there. But now,” he stretched his arms up, earning himself two pleasing pops. “I think I really did need this.” He extended his hand, palm upwards in invitation. “I don’t know what you had to do to get this to happen but…thank you for this.”

Sylvain held out his hand obediently for Felix to grab, not wanting to baby the man who had been fussed over night and day for over a month. Once he was certain Felix was steady enough on his feet for the next maneuver, Sylvain swept him into his arms, legs dangling across his lap, and reclaimed his place on the splintery bench.

"Beautiful out here, don't you think?"

Despite the arcs of twisted metal and hastily constructed high rise buildings and government outposts, the scene before them was almost pretty. 

The next words were murmured, then followed by a lover's kiss and a sigh.

"I wish beautiful things could stay beautiful for longer, Fe."

Leaning on Sylvain's strength was something Felix was learning how to do more and more. This time, it just happened to be a bit more literal of a reliance. 

Clambering atop and then clinging to Sylvain, Felix situated himself. Even more so when Sylvain kissed him. He remained silent for a moment taking in both the scenery and his words. It was a nice thought, Felix wasn’t quite jaded enough to disagree with that. But it was an ideal, not reality.

“Physical and visual beauty is fleeting, yeah.” Felix turned into Sylvain, “Beauty is in everything, isn’t it? Sometimes you just have to look harder and get creative.” Lifting his lips, Felix pressed a kiss to his temple. 

To say he was shocked by his own words would be an understatement.

Sylvain's smile softened into something sweet and tender and he turned his head into the kiss, lips brushing over Felix's cheek. He could feel the subtle pressure of his cheeks against his own and realized he was smiling, really smiling, for the first time in a long, long time.

"Wanna get married out here?" he asked as he threw an arm over Felix's shoulders to cuddle him close. "Actual trees, mostly clear air, minimal war sounds..."

Beauty was fleeting and all the faces that he had seen of Sylvain, he never looked more beautiful than he did in this moment. Felix let himself be folded in even tighter into Sylvain’s hold.

Even as Sylvain described the picture in front and around them, Felix couldn’t bear to look. He turned, blacking out his vision in the crook of Sylvain’s neck. His chest leapt with a suppressed watery hiccup.

Not willing, able, or some combination thereof, to trust his voice in the moment, he could only nod.

And in the cover given to him by Sylvain, Felix found the darkness beautiful.

Felix remained silent but his body language told Sylvain all he needed to know: a tiny, vulnerable hiccup that rose unbidden from his slender throat; the familiar tangle of limbs as Felix crawled into his lap as though trying to climb inside Sylvain's very body and hide there.

"I love you so much, Felix. And I meant it. Doesn't have to be now, if you don't want it to. We still gotta have the most bangin' double bachelor party of all time. And..."

He reached down to pluck a small yellow-white flower from the grass, awkwardly reaching around Felix to weave the stem into a band before sliding it onto his partner's finger. He leaned close, chin hovering over Felix's chin to whisper in his ear.

"Felix Fraldarius. With this ring, I thee wed."

Felix had to lift his head from the burrow he had made not only to see what was put on his finger but to get air. His face felt at if he were in front of Adder’s flamethrower. His color did not improve upon seeing the dainty flower around his finger. Unless ‘improvement’ was judged on the amount of red, in which case, Felix was the all time MVP.

Grabbing at Sylvain’s face, he twisted and squished his hands into his cheeks, looking dead in his eyes; Felix’s amber gaze was watery, his cheeks already red and flushed with wet streaks. Nearly nose to nose, Felix’s hands trembled.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say back to that. But,” his voice wavered as he cleared his throat to steady it, “…the sooner you can be my Sylvain Fraldarius, the better.”

"Well," Sylvain chuckled breathlessly, "you could say, 'Yes,' or 'I would like you to be my husband, Sylvain-formerly-known-as-Gautier. And it can happen whenever you want it to, Fe. No rush."

Well, a great deal of rush, but no pressure. Or so Sylvain hoped.

He kissed each new tear away with a tiny murmur or an "I love you" or merely an observation about what his world was like now that Felix was in it.

Turning his head, Felix let Sylvain's lips ghost softly against his cheeks. Husband, Sylvain Fraldarius, formerly Gautier, those were all good. But of all the options presented, none sounded quite right. 

Felix brought his hand down to look at the makeshift ring. He noticed that his own was not there…perhaps he lost it or if they cut it off when he was in medical. Either way, he needed something that couldn’t be so easily lost.

Not pulling away, lips to his face, Felix simply responded, "I just want you to be my family.” That wasn’t perfect either, but it sounded right.

Family.

For once, the word did not make the taste of blood rise up in Sylvain's throat. He linked their fingers together, rubbing his against the bare spot where Felix's makeshift ring had been as if to warm the flesh with the memory.

"Then we're family, you and me," he murmured, stealing a small kiss. "Thank you for wanting me."

Chapter 47: Yours and Mine

Summary:

“Sylvain.” He had just enough clarity to hate how whiny he sounded in the moment. “Those are…two very small scraps…”

Chapter Text

Twelve hours post-discharge, Sylvain found himself limping on crutches to the jaeger bay where the wreckage of Adder, their beautiful Adder, lay in countless pieces. He knelt with a wince and a harsh exhalation of pain; the drugs they'd given him were good, but they weren't that good.

Finally, he spotted his prize. Two little luminescent finger loops made of metal, the same ones that used to be attached to their rigs to facilitate their movement. They were scuffed, but Sylvain knew a guy who knew a guy who could get them looking like new in no time at all.

Giddy, he pocketed the rings and headed to the man's stall, fidgeting impatiently as he waited. He even sprang for a fancy box, red and teal metal--apparently, the destroyed jaegers had been quite the lucrative source of materials for artisans of late.

He hurried back to Felix's bed and curled up around him, nervously twisting at the intricate teal ribbon tied at the top of the box.

*

Felix tossed and turned in a fitful sleep. He was happy for the knowledge that Sylvain was well enough to have been discharged, but for the remainder of time that he had, well, there was no speeding that shit up apparently.

It was no surprise that Felix was not accustomed to nor good at remaining still. And his stint at medical had been no fucking different. As such, when he knew Sylvain, his source of foundation and grounding, was no longer right next to him, Felix was ill at ease…

After some amount of time, Felix felt a familiar weight press down behind him. More instinctively than anything, Felix wriggled around, turning with some effort against the dense muscle he now faced. Nuzzling in, he buried himself under what could only be Sylvain’s chin.

“About time you came back.”

"Mmhm," Sylvain murmured softly, drawing close to Felix's face to whisper in his ear. "And I brought you a wonderful surprise. Try it on."

Tradition be damned, Sylvain slipped the slender crimson metal band from the box, polished to a high sheen, and slipped it over Felix's bony knuckle.

"Found some scraps from Adder. Lucky, huh?"

The sensation of weight to his finger was strange and caused his eyes to flutter open. He looked down and saw the polished ring adorning his pale hand. He blinked, once, twice, three times before he brought his hand up to his face.

Processing power at an absolute standstill, Felix spoke slowly, “Very lucky. This is a small scrap, Sylvain.”

"The perfect size for you, Fe." 

Sylvain's brows furrowed slightly in concern as he studied the band, raising his own band to trace his fingertips over the curves of the metal. There hadn't appeared to be any sharp edges earlier, but what if Felix cut himself? What if...

Instead of fretting, he leaned in with a smile and planted a soft kiss to Felix's forehead.  "Be mine?"

Felix was at an utter loss. 

“Sylvain.” He had just enough clarity to hate how whiny he sounded in the moment. “Those are…two very small scraps…”

Felix couldn’t get through the sentence without breaking from a watery hiccup as he buried his head down, unable to face the reality of what Sylvain presented to him.

…at least literally.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he added, “I’ve been yours.”

Sylvain was momentarily overtaken by a wave of chilly panic at Felix's repeated comment about the size of the rings. Had he fucked up? Should he had actually spent money on them? Christ knew he had money, maybe that's why Felix was...

Speaking to him in a small, delicate, vulnerable voice that trembled before breaking off into a little sob. He enfolded Felix in his arms, kissing his face again and again.

"I know, Fe. I know."

Lifting his face from the litany of kisses, Felix looked up at Sylvain with a watery view. His lip trembled as he made a valiant effort attempting to find a way to form words. 

“Are you sure? I…I don’t need this to be with you.”

The words were honest and heartfelt, and how they fucking hurt to say.

"Why wouldn't I be sure?"

Sylvain's own eyes began to prick with disappointed tears--he felt so stupid, that even after all they'd been through, how much they'd hurt each other, Felix would still want him. He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

In a small voice, he returned, “You might need more than me.”

That ‘it’s happened before as a way to hurt me’ went unsaid because truly, no matter how much the pain was, Felix was willing to be there and take it. As fucking toxic as it sounded, if it meant being with Sylvain, he would bear it.

But if they were going to put a ring to it? Not for any religious or whatever meaning of marriage sanctity, but as a promise to each other, especially one binding them with Adder? This was too important to Felix.

"I've spent my life with everyone and everything but you. You're all I need. You're all I'll ever need. If you'll have me."

The words felt similar to all the pretty lies he'd told women and men alike in the past, but this time they ran deeper, rang truer. He looked into Felix's eyes and stroked a gentle thumb over his cheek bone, just beneath his eye.

Felix stayed still, letting Sylvain’s touch ghost over his cheekbone. The tears that had welled in his eyes fell unbidden under the weight of the situation.

Through the tear streaks, his eyes hardened as Felix crossed Sylvain’s arm, cupping the nape of his neck. “Even if that wasn’t true, I don’t intend to let you go.” He leaned forward dusting a series of three kisses to his forehead, nose, and lips. “But I believe you.”

Sylvain whimpered weakly and leaned in, nuzzling as close as he could get. 

"Mine," he repeated in a low voice, firmer this time. "All I need. So I guess you're stuck with me because I'm not letting you go."

He sank his fingertips into Felix's hair and began to knead gently at his scalp, grounding and comforting himself in the closeness, in the knowledge that at least he had this one thing figured out.

That Sylvain came closer to him only served to further ground him in the moment and his trust in his partner.

Felix closed his eyes, focusing on the strong fingers in his hair. He nodded, bringing their foreheads together, sharing breaths as well as their closeness.

“Yours,” he agreed. 

Chapter 48: A Simple Observation

Summary:

He'd just grabbed one of the less-bruised oranges and a banana to go with the oddly-colorless meat sandwiches of indeterminate origin when he became aware of a large, looming, and vaguely unwelcome presence just behind his left shoulder.

Sylvain didn't even need to turn to see who it was.

Chapter Text

Sylvain made his way solo to the mess hall in search of food, having decided to allow Felix to rest from all the recent emotional intensity. The offerings were, as usual, bland and meager and he found his thoughts drifting in innumerable directions as he stared at the food, trying to find something Felix would like.

He'd just grabbed one of the less-bruised oranges and a banana to go with the oddly-colorless meat sandwiches of indeterminate origin when he became aware of a large, looming, and vaguely unwelcome presence just behind his left shoulder.

Sylvain didn't even need to turn to see who it was.

"Dimitri."

Dimitri towered over Sylvain as he looked down over his shoulder. He had tried to remain calm. He had tried to remain non reactive. With the fact that Felix up and responsive coupled the talk he had with Dorothea, both had taken the edge off of the anxiety and absolute anger he felt at the situation and in turn, at Sylvain. And he had acted appropriately…until he saw the ugly fucking mismatched rings.

Dimitri moved around to sit across from Sylvain, mirroring their postures from a previous dinner. His face was neutral and his voice was at an even level. The look in his eye though, was unmistakable.

A low, quiet growl, “What do you think you are doing?”

"Grabbing food for myself and my future husband," Sylvain said benignly. "He's resting right now. We kinda wore each other out earlier, if you know what I mean."

It was unnecessary and he knew it, but the gleam in Dimitri's lone eye and the tone of voice he used needled at him. He fidgeted with the fingers of his left hand, idly spinning the scuffed teal band as he stared the other man down.

"What are you doing, Dima?”

Everything in his demeanor was neutral, but there was a clear, threatening aura about the man, faltering only for a moment when Sylvain fidgeted with the ring on his finger. A small, barely noticeable twitch on the left side of his face was the only evidence of affect before he composed himself as he was.

At the familiar tone and the use of 'Dima', Dimitri clasped his hands and leaned back, extending his long legs. "I'm still trying to figure out how someone can delude themselves so soundly. It truly is something else. You honestly amaze me, Gautier.”

The use of his surname raised Sylvain's hackles. He fought to keep his face neutral, fought the urge to narrow his eyes to slits and leap atop Dimitri and finish the job he'd started back in the showers. He'd hoped they were past this schoolyard bullshit, but apparently, Dimitri wasn't finished yet.

He remained standing, quirking a skeptical brow. 

"Yeah, I'm trying to figure that one out myself, Dimitri. I can't understand why you still think you have a chance with Felix."

The addition and immediate effect of the last name was a very interesting development that didn't go unnoticed by the man. But the answer he was given threw him.

Genuine confusion on his face, Dimitri repeated, "A chance with Felix? You think that I'm here to..." He let his voice trail off before realization hit, immediately gritting his teeth. "I was giving you the benefit of the doubt, but you really are just that fucking stupid."

He leaned forward hovering closer, looking down on Sylvain. "In how many different ways do you intend on hurting Felix?" His voice was just on the edge of ragged. "I know you've already done a number on him mentally because of whatever fucked up hang ups and baggage you have. But now," he spat, "you went and fucking endangered him.”

The proximity didn't unnerve him and Sylvain sat unflinching as the other man advanced. But the words caused him to blanche and freeze in place. While Dimitri wasn't saying anything Sylvain didn't already know and hadn't said to himself countless times, the words felt crueler, more true.

He couldn't allow himself to focus on the mental part, not when it looked like he'd have to gear up for a fight. Fulcrum had been weeks ago, and Sylvain was honestly impressed with the other man's ability to keep his rage under wraps for as long as he had. 

"We went into Adder together that day," he said finally, his voice low. "It was his choice."

The response was instant. 

“I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself, ‘It was his choice’.” Dimitri’s  normally handsome features shaped into a decidedly darker, more disgusted look. “Makes it easier that way, doesn’t it? If it was his choice, that absolves and frees you from any responsibility.” 

There was a certain snark that had accompanied Dimitri’s anger and surprising to only him, it was quickly being displaced with a true disgust for the red headed pilot who resembled his elder brother more and more with each interaction.

"Why do you have such a fucking kink for making Felix out to be some sort of damsel in distress?" Sylvain snapped, flicking his wrist toward Dimitri's face in an attempt to put some space between them. "It's like you want to believe that I'm raping and beating him every night or something. Do you have some kind of fucked-up savior complex, Dimitri? Is that what this is?"

Sylvain's hands had begun to tremble, much to his chagrin. He knotted his fingers in his lap and began to twist the band again as he studied his opponent, contemplating his next move.

Hand close to his face, Dimitri did move back, his mind nearly blanking with Sylvain’s words. “A savior complex,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Damn.”

Crossing his arms across his barrel chest, she stared at Sylvain with curiosity and a muted amusement. A chuckle escaped his chest made of equal parts disbelief and awe. “You’re that fucked up that you equate any type of personal concern with a complex.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, just a simple observation.

Dimitri's words registered along with a sickening rush of blood to Sylvain's head, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight to ground himself. When he opened them again, they were damp and he hated himself for it.

"Stop fucking around," he said tightly. "If you have any specific personal concerns, just tell me what they are and we can settle this once and for all."

Speaking alone with Sylvain was a completely different experience than any other interaction he had with the man. It wasn’t until this moment that Dimitri truly saw and recognized the effect Felix had on him. He was a way to keep himself grounded and present. He was a tether. Felix was a tool.

Dimitri squared his shoulders and spoke with a grave tone. “You have a death wish, Gautier.” He allowed the words to hang in the air before speaking again. “If you don’t value your life, that’s no one else’s issue. But when you add Felix to your reckless actions, that’s when I’m concerned.”

"Felix is fine," Sylvain protested weakly. "I still don't understand where any of this is coming from."

But he did, and that was the worst part. He'd fucked up when he'd shown Dimitri even a sliver of his darkness, and he'd been a fool to think that the other man was going to give up his pocket ace. Sylvain worried his bottom lip between his teeth and forced himself to hold eye contact despite suddenly feeling very small.

That he heard no objections to his observations spoke volumes.

Dimitri spoke slowly, tone almost soft. “If you don’t know, I truly can’t tell you.” He shook his head disappointedly. “I had at least hoped you would be somewhat receptive or have some semblance of reflective abilities for the truth of the matter right in front of your face.”

The softly mocking tone, dripping with faux-sympathy, was too much to bear. Sylvain rose to his feet, shoulders heaving as his breath came in short, shallow puffs. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to turn and run, that he didn't want to hear this, that he didn't want to know.

"Tell me. Tell me right now or I'm leaving." He swallowed hard to hide the tremor in his voice.

Dimitri didn’t move as Sylvain stood from his seat in a rush, his crystal blue eye following his movement. As juxtaposed from how he began this conversation, his voice was calm and even, “I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know.”

Not moving his gaze, he spoke unhurried. “You know what’s inside you. You only showed me a fraction of it, right?” His brow quirked daring Sylvain to deny it. “You saw how that scared Felix. You have so much more of that inside you. Think of what that would do to Felix.”

His eye scanned down to his clenched fists, eyeing the dark teal and back to his own gaze. “You know all of that and yet you’re chaining and binding him to that.”

There was no possible response, no excuse, no defense. Only pure white-hot rage directed inward and his world blurring around the edges as his vision narrowed. Sylvain thought he might have made a small pained sound but couldn't be sure; for now, he was drifting somewhere very far away. His lips were numb as he spoke, gaze turned toward Dimitri but completely unfocused.

"But I would never hurt him. He knows that. He knows."

Dimitri’s head cocked to the side as Sylvain made some terribly small noise. His mouth quirked, face falling into a look of resigned pity.

“I believe both you and he believe that to be true. So no. You can’t say for sure.” He paused letting the words sink in. “There is no controlling what’s inside you.”

Miklan.

"Look at you. Monster."

Sylvain took a step back as if burned, his own eyes now burning with unshed tears. The only problem was, he had no idea who those tears were for. His left hand went to his mouth, but the feeling of his metal band now felt wrong, like something precious he didn't deserve.

All he could do was stare at Dimitri with a dry mouth and watery eyes.

Dimitri stood slowly. He saw the horrified look in his eyes and he finally saw Sylvain taking account of the reality of the situation.

He looked at Sylvain with genuine pity, taking no pleasure in this moment, bearing witness to such realization. “If you care for him, and I believe you do, you’ll do the right thing. Think about it.”

Then he walked away, leaving Sylvain behind.

Chapter 49: The Promise

Summary:

As individuals, each had their own strengths and weaknesses. As partners, they could be both the other’s strength and their weakness. And right now, Felix felt he needed to be all that he could for Sylvain. He cradled his head, holding him tightly and close. “If you die, I’ll be right there behind you. There’s nothing for me if you’re not here.”

Chapter Text

Numb legs carried Sylvain back to the room, and it wasn't until he was staring at the familiar metal door that he realized he'd forgotten their food. He stood for a long moment studying the rivets before pushing the door open and taking a tentative step inside, feeling like a trespasser.

"Ran into Dimitri," he mumbled, allowing himself only small, fleeting glances at Felix. He felt as though he were trapped in a terrible borderlands, a quagmire from which he could never possibly hope to break free. "Wasn't great."

“What shit did they have today? Where’s the f–”

As soon as Sylvain took his first step into the room, if one could even call it that, Felix knew something was up. When he mentioned Dimitri, Felix knew something was wrong. And when he would barely even look at him, Felix knew something was very wrong.

Felix’s heart rate did rise, but he had yet to show it. The machines he was still hooked to had yet to betray him as well. Felix spoke with a calm, firm voice, extending his hand towards him. “Sylvain. Close the door and come here.”

Sylvain was torn between the desire, the need for comfort...and the horrifying images flashing across his mind's eye. Dimitri's bruised face. Blood. Felix, half-naked and shivering in a wet towel as he cringed away from Sylvain.

Monster.

He made a small choked sound as he advanced toward the bed and gingerly took Felix in his arms, mindful of the wires and how very fragile his partner felt in his embrace.

Felix watched Sylvain approach with an added intensity, not missing the strangled noise as he made his way to his bed.

As easily as he could because of all the fucking monitors and idiotic wires everywhere, he carefully crawled up against Sylvain’s chest…only to be surrounded by his weak hold?

Felix furrowed his brows as he frowned leaning into Sylvain. “Tighter,” he instructed as he pulsed a squeeze around Sylvain’s midsection.

Little by little, Sylvain obliged Felix's request. His hold increased by miniscule increments as though he were terrified of his own strength; he realized, as he slowly began to come back to himself, that he was.

Once he had Felix fully enveloped in his arms, face pressed into the juncture of his shoulder and neck, Sylvain released a soft sigh. If having this meant that he was selfish, well, he was fine with that.

"Missed you," he murmured into Felix's skin.

The return of the tension and strength to the arms around him, albeit a slow and labored process, was a welcomed return to form.

Through their time together, even at Drift, Felix could never get a complete and accurate read on the turbulence that Sylvain’s mind housed. And as he had discovered, that was likely more to Sylvain’s own comfort than a lack of understanding on Felix’s part. But what he had gotten better at was noticing the external signals Sylvain gave Felix. He could handle that.

Squeezing into Sylvain, he nosed down at him, placing three kisses against his warm skin. “Well, you can stop missing me. I’m right here.” Felix added, a prayer of protection ghosting over his skin. “I’ve got you.”

The internal debate of just how much to tell Felix about his interaction with Dimitri in the mess hall was a lengthy and difficult one; he didn't want to upset Felix, especially not in his current state, and yet he knew that if he withheld anything, his partner would know and press relentlessly and possibly become even more upset.

The kisses and reassurance made his breath hitch and his eyes sting again and he clung fully to Felix in a crushing embrace.

"Dimitri thinks you shouldn't," he whispered, unsure what else to say.

Felix breathed through clenched teeth, anger just at the edge of his conscience. Whatever this was, whatever happened, Sylvain was muted. He wasn’t sharing all…likely because he knew it would anger Felix. Knowing that played a part in… whatever this was, Felix willed himself to limit whatever warranted reaction he would have.

The fact remained, however, It wouldn’t have mattered even if Sylvain would’ve finished the statement. The answer was always going to be the same. “Dima is welcome to think what he wants. I say what happens to me. That’s it.”

Felix pulled back his head, separating from Sylvain for a moment. “Like, I want to kiss my fiancé.” He leaned forward, filling that gap, pressing a solid kiss to Sylvain’s shoulder.

The use of the nickname puzzled Sylvain for a moment, but then Felix was speaking to him so softly and looking at him so tenderly, and then the kiss, more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced before in his life...

"I know he was just trying to rattle me and that they're just words, but..." He breathed a little sigh and tilted his head to plant three light kisses to Felix's jaw. "He told me I was like him. That I was dangerous and that I'll hurt you. Badly."

Felix felt all the color drain from his face. Dimitri had said what? He clenched his teeth, white knuckles appearing through his already pale skin, willing himself not to respond in the way he wanted which was to get up right the fuck now and tear Dimitri fucking Blaiddyd a new asshole.

BEEP.

His golden eyes darted over to the machine that dared snitch on him as he spoke in a low, albeit strained voice. "Sylvain." Felix pressed his hand to his freckled cheek, holding him tighter around his abdomen. "The only way you are like him is your red hair and your last name." He tugged the larger man's body impossibly closer. "And you're becoming a Fraldarius soon. Making your hair the only connection."

His hand moved up, threading through the thick auburn locks. "And I like your hair as it is."

He continued, gazing up into his partner's worn eyes, "As for hurting me...you have just as I've asked you to. And every single time, you build me back. There's nothing you could do that would keep me away." And that was now something that was proven.

The loud beep from the monitor caused Sylvain to jerk his head up in alarm, body still tense from the memory of his interaction with Dimitri. The man's words were still playing on repeat in his head, despite all of Felix's reassurances, both verbal and tactile. But at the gentle card of Felix's fingers through his hair, he once again relaxed, gradually allowing his full weight to rest against Felix.

"There are things I could do that should keep you away." Things Sylvain knew about all-too-well from firsthand experience but had never even thought about doing to someone else. He looped his arm around Felix's waist and drew him in close. "But I would never. And I don't know what's going to happen when I cut them off, but whatever it is, I'm okay with it."

Felix met Sylvain's caramel eyes with fire in his own. 

"’ Could do,’ you said. Meaning you have a choice. You've always had a choice." He nosed into Sylvain's neck, speaking lowly into his ear. "You're no monster. You're my Sylvain and I trust you with my life." Felix swallowed hard, shutting his eyes tightly. "You're the only one I trust with my heart."

He couldn't say much for what Sylvain alluded to, but, whatever it was, whatever they fucking dared, whatever anyone dared to do to his Sylvain, they would need to go through him first. And that was the easiest promise in the world to make.

The fiercely protective expression on Felix's face made Sylvain's heart flutter. He was thankful for the meager mattress beneath them, because he was pretty sure his knees would have buckled in that moment. Yet again, Felix was telling him that not only was he okay, he was loved. And that someone would go to bat for him.

"Love you, Fe," he murmured against Felix's jaw. "And I know he's just saying that shit because he's jealous. I get it. But he knows exactly what buttons to push, and I don't like that he does. I don't like that I gave him that."

“Love you back.”

Felix remained silent for a moment as Sylvain spoke. No matter what situation, Dimitri was an intelligent man. Whether one telegraphed a weakness or not, the man would’ve been able to pick it out. Even with one eye, his sight was better than most.

“There are bells we can’t unring and can only move forward,” he supplied unhelpfully. “Best not to stress and get caught up over that, right?”

"Yeah, you're right. He's not in this relationship; we are." 

Sylvain's breathing had returned to normal and he began carding his hands through Felix's loose hair, turning his wrists slightly when he got to the ends to wrap silky strands around his trembling fingers. He lifted his head and placed three tiny pecks on the tip of Felix's nose before meeting his gaze again, marveling at the man's uncanny ability to relax him.

"Sorry about the food. It was those weird meat things again, but the fruit didn't look too bad...I can go get you something. You need to eat." Yet he made no move to disentangle himself from his partner, selfishly clinging to his side.

“Don’t you dare move.” Felix wrapped his arms tightly around Sylvain, less concerned about his comfort than Sylvain’s own security. “Shut up about the food. I’ve got this stupid IV in me and have to piss more than eat.”

Felix looked up at him, eyes wide with need. “Don’t leave me.”

Sylvain obediently settled back into Felix's arms, though his fingers gripped the back of the flimsy hospital gown just a bit harder than necessary. He leaned in close to press his face against Felix's neck and closed his eyes as he tried to block out the memory of his earlier interaction.

"I would never leave you," he breathed. "I'd sooner die."

The words he spoke, while they were sentiments he agreed with and subscribed to, didn’t inspire much faith that Sylvain was over what happened. Felix held him close as he clung to his back.

As individuals, each had their own strengths and weaknesses. As partners, they could be both the other’s strength and their weakness. And right now, Felix felt he needed to be all that he could for Sylvain. He cradled his head, holding him tightly and close. “If you die, I’ll be right there behind you. There’s nothing for me if you’re not here.”

Sylvain brushed his lips softly against the sharply defined line of Felix's jaw with a sigh. With each beat of his heart, he felt himself relax a little more. This was what mattered, he reminded himself; these little moments, tucked safely away from the rest of the world and all the bastards in it.

"So, did you miss me while I was gone?" he asked mischievously. "Hopefully they'll let you out soon. I mean, I'll bust you outta here in a second if I have to, but it's something I'd like to avoid."

It was odd to say, but hearing the sly tone his voice took filled Felix with a sense of relief. That Sylvain could go back to being his normal, coy and cocky self (also parts of him that Felix loved) was something that Felix was more than happy to see; proof positive he was well on his way to returning to his Sylvain.

Felix responded with a scoff. "Tch. So what if I did?" He rolled his eyes fondly above Sylvain's head. "You won't believe it, but I miss our beds. This one." He wriggled from side to side. "It's too big and I'm missing about...220 pounds pressing on me to be comfortable." 

The words came from an honest place, but Felix didn't care for the vulnerability he felt in the immediate aftermath.

"So feel free to spring me whenever," he added quietly.

"Have I really gotten that heavy?" Sylvain teased. He tended not to make a habit of weighing himself and had no reason to, since he was never at the gym and therefore nowhere near a scale. He was generally unaware of their difference in size, at least on a conscious level, and was comforted by the feeling of wiry muscle beneath his fingertips.

After glancing at Felix's monitor to check his vital signs, Sylvain reluctantly pulled away from his partner.

"I'm gonna go talk to the nurse for a second, see if I can convince her to let you go. Get dressed, kid--let's blow this popsicle stand."

Felix snorted with amusement. “Oh please. You’re a brick shithouse. I don’t know how you are just,” he grabbed at his side, fingers barely digging into his deltoids, “made of muscle.” The only give the man had was on his cheeks.

Both sets.

Before Felix could share what set was on his mind as of late, Sylvain spoke up and made his throat go dry.

“Really?” Felix’s eyes darted over to the small roll bag with his folded clothes. “Think you can?”

"Know I can," Sylvain replied cockily, planting a quick series of three kisses on Felix's forehead before hurrying out the door to the nurse's station.

It took some wheedling, Sylvain's very best kicked-puppy-dog-eyes, and enough twisting of the teal band on his ring finger that he thought the skin might be sloughing off, but he managed to convince the pretty, soft-spoken nurse that Felix was well enough to be discharged. After signing a few forms that he didn't bother to read, Sylvain practically barreled into Felix's room and closed the door behind him.

"You're free to go. Guess they want to turn over the bed for the next unlucky bastard." 

He shuffled to the bed and sat down heavily, nudging into Felix's shoulder with his own.

Felix sat blinking dumbly as Sylvain jumped up and with a matter of steps disappeared from sight. From any of their previous encounters or anything about the man, Felix had learned well not to doubt the man. But to medical discharge? Now even that would’ve been a feat for the man.

But he wasn’t just any man, now was he? He was Sylvain Jose Gautier. And he was his.

Felix was stunned. From the quick way he popped back into the room, Felix was at a loss for words. The small, almost childlike way Sylvain slid next to him did nothing but further his flabbergasted demeanor. The small nudge to his shoulder prompted a soft question, “Just like that?” His hand slid to the thigh next to his, gently pressing his fingers into the fabric of his jeans.

"Just like that," he repeated soothingly, warmth beginning to bloom in his chest at the tentative, hopeful way Felix asked the question. He reached down and placed his hand over Felix's, lacing just the tips of their fingers together, and gave a small squeeze. "Did you ever doubt me? I have my ways."

He smiled slyly and reached out with his free hand to toy with a strand of Felix's hair, winding it gently around one finger before releasing it. It terrified him to think about how close they'd come to losing everything, and it was more terrifying still when Sylvain stopped to consider that it had happened more than once, and that he had been the cause all but the last time. Because regardless of what Dimitri claimed, Sylvain knew that reuniting with Felix for Fulcrum was the best choice. The only choice.

His small movements, the interlacing of their fingers, the gentle wind of his hair…Sylvain certainly did have his ways, but he didn’t need them for Felix. They were hopelessly and utterly fucked and bound.

Felix cast his wide eyes upwards at Sylvain. The sheer amount of love and adoration he felt in the moment for the man was immeasurable, there was no one else, nothing else for him if it wasn’t Sylvain. Bringing their combined hands up to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss into the back of his hand. “I get to go home to you.”

"You do, Fe," he replied warmly. "The only question is...your place, or mine?"

Even though he suspected that Felix was still not a fan of this particular maneuver, Sylvain lifted the smaller man in his arms from the bed and gently placed him on his feet a few steps from the door. Then, he placed three tiny kisses on the nape of Felix's neck, lamenting the fact that it was still clammy and resolving to thoroughly remedy that later.

"Yours."

There was never going to be another answer. Felix wanted to be inundated with Sylvain. Alone in this stupid, fucking room, he didn't want to just go to another. If he thought about it, maybe the dependency that he felt in the moment warranted a second look. But now was not the time nor the place. Fuck the meaning, fuck the implications, fuck everything else. He wanted to leave and he wanted Sylvain.

Felix pointed at his clothes on the other side of the room. "I'm not walking out of here with my ass out."

Chapter 50: Ask and Ye Shall Receive

Summary:

When they came together like this, each time, it was something new. Knowing each other's bodies was never old hat, it was a familiarity with just another part of each man. Having Sylvain, having him take what he wanted and giving it freely, Felix had a hard time thinking that such a thing could be replicated with or by another.

Chapter Text

There was never going to be another answer. Felix wanted to be inundated with Sylvain. Alone in this stupid, fucking room, he didn't want to just go to another. If he thought about it, maybe the dependency that he felt in the moment warranted a second look. But now was not the time nor the place. Fuck the meaning, fuck the implications, fuck everything else. He wanted to leave and he wanted Sylvain.

Felix pointed at his clothes on the other side of the room. "I'm not walking out of here with my ass out."

Sylvain took his time dressing Felix slowly, methodically, tenderly. First his underwear, then his socks, and pants, and shirt. Every addition was preceded by a shower of tiny kisses to the body part in question, with the occasional whispered "I adore you" against Felix's skin.

When Felix was finally dressed, Sylvain scooped him carefully into his arms and grabbed a handful of the "Get well soon!" cards from the nightstand before hustling through the door and down the endless corridor to his room.

"Well?" he said with a mischievous smile and plopped down next to Felix on the bed. "What now? Surely you have something in mind..."

Warmth pooled in Felix's chest with each tender touch and the light press of his lips, hot breath ghosting over his still clammy skin. Something underneath the fluttering that Sylvain always seemed to cause stirred within Felix as well. He stood, moving pliantly under his ministrations, his breath shallow as his eyes lidded in desire.

When Sylvain went to pick him up, Felix leaned into him compliantly. Wrapping his arm around his fiancé's broad shoulders, he clung to him, resting his free arm lightly over his stomach as he was taken away to his side of Sylvain's bed.

When placed on the bed, Felix crawled, draping himself over the mattress as he could. He nuzzled in the covers and pressed his face inelegantly into the pillow at the head of the bed. He grabbed at it, tugging it to his chest. Half his face covered, he turned just enough to cast one eye at Sylvain. 

"I missed this." His already muffled voice was soft. "I missed you."

"Missed you too, Fe," Sylvain breathed, meaning it with every fiber of his being as he crawled toward Felix on the bed. He gently tugged the pillow from his fiancé's arms and spread them to better nestle close to him instead.

"So, now that you're a free man, " he teased lightly, "what would you like to do with your new found freedom?"

With Sylvain properly in his arms, it was abundantly clear how much of a poor substitute his pillow was to the real thing. Slotting himself around and against Sylvain was never uncomfortable. Somehow, they always seemed to fit; different jagged pieces from the same fucked up puzzle.

Feelings returned and coy question asked, Felix answered with an arched brow as he held up his left hand, ring clear between their pressed bodies. “Doesn’t look like a free man to me.” The corner of his lips curled in a small smirk. “I wouldn’t mind, however, if my fiancé showed me just how much I was missed.”

"Mm," Sylvain murmured contentedly in response to the reassuring visual. He leaned forward to place a light, brief kiss to Felix's ring finger, then trace the tip of his tongue over the band and just below it to meet Felix's skin. Just as suddenly, he decided to pull back in favor of dropping his hands to the waistband of Felix's pants and giving the gentlest of tugs with his fingertips.

"If you want me to do that," he said in a low, dark voice, "these will need to come off. And, preferably, everything else."

His hands slid even lower to press skillful thumbs into the protrusions of Felix's hip bones where they emerged just above his pants. At the same time, Sylvain leaned into trace a similar path with his tongue along Felix's collarbone and up the side of his neck to his earlobe, where he fastened his lips and sucked eagerly at the sensitive flesh.

Felix looked through lidded eyes as Sylvain kissed and tasted the metallic surface of his ring and the finger it fit perfectly on. The deep timbre of Sylvain’s voice sent a chill through his system as his waistband was tugged at followed by pointed and expert presses into the juncture of his hip bones. Felix let out a small hiss of air as Sylvain laved attention to his sensitive skin.

Pressing back, Felix disengaged from his voracious mouth. “Undress for me.” Felix’s amber eyes blazed. “I want to watch. I want to see you.”

Sylvain's low purr stuttered into a hungry growl at Felix's words and he drew back without a moment's hesitation, knowing full well that something even better was in store. He stood and slowly, deliberately began to disrobe: shirt, undershirt, pants. Shoes and socks, of course; Sylvain had never trusted anyone who left those on during sex, and he wasn't about to become one of them now.

"Like this?" he responded in that same low, silky purr, gradually inching his underwear down his hips until the merest thatch of red curls was exposed.

If Felix wanted more, he would have to beg for it.

Rotating himself for a clearer view, Felix watched with a building hunger and anticipation as Sylvain’s deft hands set to work. Watching Sylvain disrobing and showing his tanned and freckled skin was a pleasure that Felix thought he ought to have indulged in. As such, he made it his job to make up for lost time right away.

When prompted, Felix answered immediately and in kind, a low purr of his own as his hand slid under his own shirt, his fingertip brushing lightly against his raised bud.

“Just like that, Sylvain.” As odd as it was to say, Felix swore reverently, with heat in his voice. “Fuck, you’re a vision.”

Sylvain whimpered low in his throat at the praise, which had yet to fail to get him going. He grazed his fingertips across the bulge at the front of his underwear with the tiniest of gasps, dipping a finger into the opening at the front to brush a lone fingertip across the head of his already-leaking cock and bring it to his mouth to suckle.

"Fe," he breathed simply in response. "Now you. I wanna see. Show me."

It was when Sylvain’s hand moved that Felix stopped breathing. Stilling all his movements, even the rise and fall of his chest, he watched Sylvain with a hungering intensity. When he took his finger to his mouth, Felix sucked in air as he was liable to pass out otherwise.

Felix complied with Sylvain’s command, letting his free hand pass down his body, unbuttoning and undoing his fly, exposing the dark underwear Sylvain had just put him in. Hand still underneath his shirt, Felix pinched at his nipple, moaning at the sharp pleasurable pain with his eyes still trained upon Sylvain. “After you finish what you started, then you can undress me like you want.”

"And what did I start?"

Sylvain fully intended for the words to come out firm and confident, yet his voice was raspy and breathless as he asked the question. After a moment's contemplation and one, two, three broad strokes of his palm between his legs, all the while maintaining bold eye contact, Sylvain complied and deftly shucked his underwear off, kicking it to the side.

Then he sat back on his haunches to study Felix, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth to suckle at it. There were so many things he wanted to do to his fiancé--so many, in fact, that Sylvain himself had no idea of the exact number.

"I have quite the list of ideas," he drawled as he ghosted a fingertip up Felix's thigh, "but we can get to that later. For now, I'm interested in what you want."

At last, when Sylvain took off the offending final piece of clothing, Felix sucked in air as he was approached. Muscles jutting from his bulky frame, length at perfect attention, voice deep and raw, like this, he was assuredly his Sylvain.

The small touch to his thigh made Felix shiver, as did the question accompanying it. Sylvain had always been an attentive lover to him and Felix knew nothing of receiving only the best care under his hands and expected no less here.

Felix leveled his gaze, pupils blown in lust, as he pinched at the tender flesh with his nails, eliciting a gasp. “I want your mouth on me. I want to watch you relish the taste of me.”

The vaguely-worded request drew a long, soft moan deep from within Sylvain's chest as he repositioned himself to oblige Felix's request. But first, he took a moment to look deep into his soul mate's eyes as he nipped tiny bruises along his inner thigh in a secret, selfish hope that Felix would feel the inseam of his uniform pants rubbing against them on his next mission with Dima.

Though Sylvain played coy as he made light, steady passes over the tip of Felix's cock with his tongue, he was more than ready to choke and die on his cock if asked. After a moment's thought, he sucked just the head between his lips and muttered, "Like this?," looking up at Felix through long lowered lashes.

Felix wasted no time getting undressed under Sylvain’s curious gaze, shucking off his clothes gracelessly and with speed. When rid of the obstructive clothes, Sylvain was upon him.

With every wet press of his lips, Felix moaned and writhed under his expert touches. The hard sucks were sure to leave proof of Sylvain’s passes along his inner thigh. Selfishly, Felix hoped they would be; a secret proof only he would see under later inspection, a harbinger of Sylvain.

However, when the man took his cock in his mouth, Felix was in no place to complain. His hips canted upwards, moving his rigid length further into Sylvain’s waiting throat. Looking down at the man, seeing his gorgeous eyes focused for the sole purpose of Felix’s satisfaction, his lips parted in a wide seal around his cock, Felix shuddered.

“F-uuuck. Yes, S-Sylvain. Just like that. Please.”

The way Felix responded to him--immediately, wantonly, and with no hesitation--drew a soft groan from Sylvain and he swallowed hard around his cock. Unable to help himself, he drifted a hand between Felix's legs to stroke featherlight touches across his hole, rubbing tiny circles.

He fucking loved his man, Sylvain decided as he gave a particularly long, hard suck, hollowing his cheeks and batting his lashes at Felix for show. It had been so long...Felix deserved this. They deserved this.

Felix immediately lifted his hips in response to Sylvain's deft, teasing touches. As Felix had never learned to be bashful or ashamed, he didn't start now. He unabashedly spread his legs allowing Sylvain more room to do what he wanted, unfettered access to Felix's anything.

When they came together like this, each time, it was something new. Knowing each other's bodies was never old hat, it was a familiarity with just another part of each man. Having Sylvain, having him take what he wanted and giving it freely, Felix had a hard time thinking that such a thing could be replicated with or by another. That thought was branded upon his psyche as Sylvain gave a particularly hard suck to his length. Felix's gaze shot down just in time to see the sculpted hollow of his cheeks through his dark lashes.

He brought his hand down, threading it in his thick hair, scratching dully against his scalp as he laid his head back, trying to impart all the fondness he could for the man that was merely another piece of him.

The tender expression on Felix's face as he gazed down at Sylvain was almost painful and he made a small, soft sound. For a moment, he remained still, studying his lover's face and contemplating his next course of action. He pulled off almost entirely but kept the tip in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the heated flesh. While Sylvain had decided not to be cruel to Felix or make him beg, he had made no such promises about surprising him. He added a finger to his mouth to slick it up, lips trying to form a devilish grin.

In one fluid motion, he slid down the length of Felix's cock and slipped the finger between his cheeks, slowly pushing inside. He began to work his finger in variable, teasing strokes--first a series of shallow thrusts, followed by sinking the digit in up to his palm. All the while, his attentive gaze remained locked on Felix's face, eager to drink in every response and commit each of them to memory.

Air escaped his throat in a rush as his long digit slowly penetrated into him, Sylvain’s palm coming flush against his soft cheeks. The small, obscene noises of skin to skin contact mixed with the pressure and suction he felt filled him with a blinding pleasure.

Without any reserve, Felix ground down on his hand, chasing his pleasure as he moaned out. His hands tightened, gripping Sylvain firmly by the root of his hair edging further into his talented mouth at a slow, yet unyielding pace. Inch by inch into his hot, wet mouth, Felix called out to him.

Sylvain groaned at the responses he'd earned and began to grind his hips down into the mattress, desperate for any stimulation at all to his aching cock. 

One finger quickly became two and he began to slowly curl and scissor his fingers within his partner's waiting body. He was now well-versed in the ways of Felix's pleasure and navigated his body skillfully, effortlessly. All the while, his mouth's ministrations remained metronome-steady.

As if he hadn’t been away from Sylvain for weeks, their bodies fell back into perfect sync. Felix bucked up into Sylvain’s mouth, hissing with the painful, yet pleasurable stretch he was so adept at.

“Syl-vain,” he panted, nearly delirious while receiving twin pleasures from his fiancé. “You,” he whined, pulling helplessly on his hair, not paying mind to the strength of his grip. “I want you now.”

Sylvain made a small sound of surprise at the firm, almost harsh tug of deft fingers in his hair. Wordlessly, he reluctantly pulled away, running his tongue across flushed, puffy lips as he sat back to admire Felix.

Sylvain didn't think he would ever get tired of looking at him; even as he shifted atop Felix's smaller frame and began the familiar process of slicking himself and pressing in slowly, torturously, his gaze continued to wander over every inch of his lover's body.

The bulky press of his body, the very real weight of his lover on him was a needed sensation, a welcomed return to form.

Felix grasped greedily at Sylvain’s sides and shoulders as he pulled him down to lay flush against his smaller frame. He lifted his hips, flexing into Sylvain spearing himself onto his length, cursing loudly before biting down into the crook of his neck, muffling his voice.

Sylvain moaned in response to the expletive, paired flawlessly with the sharp, graceful movements of Felix's hips as he fucked himself soundly on Sylvain's cock. Deciding to let the other man do the work for now, Sylvain buried his face in the crook of Felix's neck, purring soft affirmations and wordless sighs into his ear.

When he began to slowly move his hips in return, each forward grind was intentional, an unspoken I love you. And though he wasn't conscious of it in the moment, each pull back was a silent plea for Felix to follow him.

As soon as Sylvain began moving in earnest, Felix began to whine out desperately. All at once, Felix felt all that was Sylvain. His thick cock plunging deeper and deeper inside of him, his lips ghosting against his ear and the soft skin of his neck.

The tandem and reciprocal motions only served to fuel Felix on further. For every thrust Sylvain made, Felix met it with the movement of his own hips. Breathy moans escaped his lips as he dragged them across his heated flesh finding Sylvain’s lips.

Sylvain reached up with one desperate hand to grip Felix's jaw and draw him into a hungry kiss, lips and teeth and tongue moving voraciously. With his other, he linked their fingers together and pinned Felix's hand to the mattress above his head.

"Fe," he rasped, eyelids fluttering as he chased pleasure for both of them. "Tell me what to do now. What you want.”

With great effort, Sylvain momentarily stilled the motions of his hips, taking in the sight before him.

With the forceful pull of his jaw, coupled with his insistent tongue, Felix felt right. His hand pressed to the mattress made his eyes shoot open. That Sylvain could make Felix feel so wholly cared for and secure was something special. He wrapped his legs around Sylvain’s hips, keeping him as close as possible while continuing their reunion in the flesh.

“Sylvain,” he whispered, mouthing his words against Sylvain’s plush lips, each time a hallowed prayer. “I want you to mark me. Carve yourself in the deepest part of me. Bite me and make me yours in body again.” He reached up, dragging his tongue along his swollen lip, “Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Sylvain, for his part, was more than happy to oblige the request. He shuddered at the drag of Felix's tongue and parted his lips to dart his own along it with a soft whimper. His thrusts became almost impossibly forceful, the old metal headboard banging against the wall hard enough that he wondered, through the pleasurable haze, whether it would leave marks on the wall.

Sylvain sure hoped so.

He broke away from the kiss to focus his attention on Felix's neck. He began with a series of tiny kisses in clusters of three, tonguing at the hollow of his throat. As he parted his lips in preparation, Sylvain briefly considered leaving his marks lower, they could be hidden by Felix's shirt. Then he reminded himself of all the times they almost lost each other and decided that fortune favored the bold. He caught the tiniest amount of flesh between his teeth and rolled it gently, testing Felix's limits. Then, he bit down hard, sucking ferociously enough that his cheeks hollowed.

The silent scream that ripped from his throat was equal parts pain, surprise, and visceral pleasure. Rather than pull away, Felix clung tighter, burying his nails into Sylvain's flesh, raking them in mirrored marks across his shoulders. He moved his neck, pressing into Sylvain's unforgiving maw with a guttural groan.

Felix crossed his ankles behind Sylvain, bearing down on him, forcing each thrust, each clang of that military-issued bedframe to be earned. His voice barely registered, the sweet nothings, the begging and the pleading of Sylvain's name rung in his ears to the staccato of their movements. For how weak and tremulous his voice sounded to his own ears and to the cacophony of them, his grip never wavered.

Sylvain felt Felix's entire body tense and bow beautifully into him at the first bite and he whined low in response, eager to make him do it again. After pressing a few hasty kisses to the rapidly-bruising skin, he moved to his fiancé's collarbone and used his incisors to open a tiny, stinging line.

He paused for a moment to look up at Felix thoughtfully, tonguing at the blood that was beginning to well up, and decided he wasn't nearly far gone enough for Sylvain's liking. He angled his hips and curved his thrusts upward, nearly folding Felix in half as he relentlessly fucked into him.

At the first triplet kisses, Felix let his guard down, exhaling with ease as he felt Sylvain's teeth tear into his flesh. As if there was a punch to his gut, all air escaped his lungs in a high-pitched whine.

Felix moved easily within Sylvain's firm grip as he began anew his punishing thrusts. All that he could do, all that he wanted to do was have Sylvain fuck him so soundly. Make them become one again, make them be connected. It had been too long and he was tired of being treated like something delicate and fragile. He wanted Sylvain to break him down, take him apart piece by piece, all to put back up together. But until that time? He wanted to feel like he was breaking.

And goddamnit, if that wasn't what it felt like.

Blubbery moans and yelps escaped from his mouth until he sunk his teeth into the soft crook of Sylvain's neck, clamping down hard on the freckled skin.

The sensation of Felix's teeth digging into his sensitive flesh drew an abrupt, wordless cry from Sylvain. His hands began to wander the length of Felix's body, down to briefly grip his hips and back up again. This was far from the first time he'd struggled to decide which part of Felix to lavish with attention first, but it felt even more like discovering his body than it had the very first time.

He paused for a moment to tweak and roll Felix's nipple between his fingers and gaze into his eyes, his other hand coming up to tenderly cup his face. Eventually, he abandoned the rosy, hardened bud in favor of sliding his hand down to hike Felix's leg even higher, fingers dimpling his pale thigh. Palm still pressed to Felix's jaw, Sylvain splayed his fingers to grip the back of Felix's neck and met his gaze intently, small stutters and moans escaping his lips as they moved together.

Limbs entwined, besides their differing skin tones, one could barely tell where Sylvain began and Felix ended. They were flushed and moaning out, breathy exhalations.

Laying his head back, cradled in Sylvain's large hand, Felix rocked in time with the hips that jutted against his own. Never did he feel more connected and more secure with someone than he did when he was with Sylvain. And when they were like this? When they were honest, open, baring themselves as they wanted, there was no comparison.

Felix squeezed into Sylvain tighter with his muscular thighs as he felt his nails desperately dig into him. He directed his attention forward, finding and meeting Sylvain's gaze. "Slow," he panted, "Slow down. Let me feel everything. Every inch." Though his eyes threatened to roll back in his head, he was focused on the face of his lover as he stroked Sylvain's high cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs.

Sylvain immediately obeyed, counting in his head with each stroke. He wrapped his arms fully around Felix in a crushing embrace, breathing with him and occasionally crying out against his shoulder. For as much as Sylvain liked to claim he had intimacy issues (and he did, in spades), he had to admit that there was something sweet and special about holding Felix like this, moving slowly together as one.

He leaned slightly to the side and used the momentum to pull Felix on top of him and back down so their bodies were flush together. Pressed against Felix like this, Sylvain was able to feel the wild beating of their hearts, nearly in tandem, and remembered the way his pulse had fluttered against Felix from the start, betraying his feelings time and time again despite his best efforts to hide them.

"Felix," he gasped, resuming his trail of light kisses along his neck and shoulder.

Ask and ye shall receive.

Of course Felix didn’t have anything to hold him up against, but he seriously doubted many, if any, other partners would be half as attentive as Sylvain was. Upon his request, he not only slowed, but perfected his request. He turned the pair so that Felix’s true desire of being inseparable was met in the best way possible.

Unhooking his legs, Felix ended up straddling Sylvain, fully sheathed and flush against his chest. Not breaking his hold, Felix put his head into the crook of his neck, breathing hard, moaning in response. “Sylvain…I– ah . I love… fuck,” he ended in a sharp hiss.

"Fe, love you, too," Sylvain murmured, slowing his movements to nearly nothing. Felix was being pleasingly assertive--and tender--and more than anything, he wanted to keep him close.

As Felix bowed his body forward, Sylvain shifted with him to rub gently but insistently inside him, searching for his prostate. He tilted his head to capture his earlobe between his teeth with another moan.

"Wanna hear you more."

With Sylvain’s slow movements and prompting, Felix arched his back facilitating his purposeful movements. “Ah,” he breathed when Sylvain’s pearly teeth caught the shell of his ear.

Letting his voice go, he turned his head into his neck. His hot breath ghosted against his flushed skin as beads of sweat started to gather at his temple. With a thrust of his hips, Felix plunged against Sylvain letting out a long groan, ebbing to a light whine as he intoned every feeling as Sylvain had desired.

Sylvain all but whimpered as Felix complied and began to make all of his favorite sounds. He turned his head to kiss Felix's damp cheek before flicking his tongue out with a soft groan.

"Just like that, Fe, you're being so good for me, so perfect." 

Completely overwhelmed both physically and emotionally, he clung to Felix as he began to work his hips up into him in languid rolls.

As Sylvain began moving in a slow pattern, Felix angled his hips down making his motions hit home, rubbing consistently against his prostate.

“So good, so fucking good,” he repeated.

Felix arched his back, moaning, licking the mix of perspiration and condensation left on the fine column of Sylvain’s neck. Their stomachs glided easily enough together even as they refused to part. Felix’s cock wept profusely between the rocking bodies, further facilitating their movements.

They were both nearing a point beyond exhaustion, beyond bliss. Neither was willing to stop their heated and heady reunion in the way they could only bring out of the other.

Felix's tongue lapping against his neck drew a long, shuddering moan from Sylvain. He reached down between them and wrapped his fingers firmly around Felix's cock, allowing him to fuck into his hand as he moved. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, overwhelmed by the tight heat of his lover's body, and drew a breath.

Felix was breaking him down in the tenderest of ways and despite his growing fatigue, Sylvain thought he'd never tire of it. He opened his eyes wide and sighed Felix's name as he tipped over the edge, filling him completely.

The tight grasp of his length, the soft, breathy sound of his name, and the impossible fullness he felt as Sylvain came inside him, it was all too much.

With a whimper, Felix saw white as his eyes rolled back blacking out as his cock painted their bellies white and his ass twitched ever tighter around Sylvain’s dick. Chest heaving and unconscious for the moment, he collapsed bonelessly on top of his lover.

For a moment, concern and the first flickers of panic shot through Sylvain as Felix went limp atop him. But the contented puffs of air and the rhythmic clenching around his length reassured him that he had not, in fact, destroyed Felix with his cock.

"Love you," he murmured as he cuddled the smaller man close, sifting his fingers through damp hair and smoothing it away from Felix's flushed face.

“-ack,” Felix answered, half-conscious. "Love you," he finished breathlessly.

He leaned into Sylvain's slow, comforting fingers as he lifted his hips, feeling his spent length slip out of him as well as the come that spilled down his cleft. With much effort, he pressed himself up, rolling off to Sylvain's side, sandwiched between his warm body and the wall. Felix murmured contently before nuzzling into the side of his neck next to a littering of already dark, puce bruises.

Somewhere far off, he was vaguely aware of his own neck throbbing.

Sylvain, normally tidy, resorted to wadding up his t-shirt and using it to wipe them down with a grimace. They'd have all the time in the world to get cleaned up later (and tend to their various "war wounds"). All he wanted right now was to be close to the man he loved more than anything in the entire world.

He hesitated, eyeing the angry red expanse of skin from Felix's jaw down to his shoulders, then leaned over to rummage through his nightstand for a small first aid kit. With a soft hum, he moistened a cotton ball with antiseptic and dabbed it gently over the bite mark he'd left on Felix's collarbone, still slowly trickling blood. He winced and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his cheek in a silent apology.

When Sylvain turned away reaching to his nightstand, Felix clung to him and was dragged over before being scrunch back. Looking over, Felix watched the small white container in his hand as he took out the cotton ball before holding it to the lip of a clear container and... 

“Tsss!”

Felix hissed, recoiling slightly as he looked down at the red that now blossomed in the cotton strands. Sylvain placing a sweet kiss near the spot afterwards did serve as a balm, but it didn't stop him from leaning over and bonking Sylvain in the head. Nosing at him fondly, Felix added, "Warn me next time."

"Why, so you can get all tense and make it hurt worse?" Sylvain teased, though he was secretly speaking from his own ample experience. He playfully pressed his hand to Felix's mouth as if to shush him, only to replace it with his lips a moment later.

"So, as a not-free-free-man, what's your first order of business? Well, second, I guess." Sylvain flashed a smile, this time referring to himself in a more positive way.

Felix rolled his eyes, poised to nip at Sylvain’s fingers until his lips pressed on his own served to effectively silence any retort that he had on his lips.

He instead stuck his tongue out, licking at his fingers. Notably, he did remain still and placid for Sylvain’s ministrations as he spoke. 

“My first order of business,” he started with an arched brow followed by a sly grin, “was very well taken care of, thank you. Second…” Felix watched Sylvain with a soft gaze that shifted to one of timidity. “I don’t know…have they said anything about our statuses as pilots?”

Sylvain felt his cheeks warm in an uncharacteristic blush at the praise and the shifting emotions on Felix's face. His heart swelled and he cupped his lover's cheek gently.

"Not yet, but..."

He was interrupted by the sound of a folio sliding under the door, rasping against the concrete as though the person delivering it were annoyed. Sylvain wondered idly if the person had heard them, then halfheartedly disentangled himself from Felix to retrieve the paper.

Chapter 51: Commendation

Summary:

"Oh, fancy!" Sylvain responded with exaggerated enthusiasm. He darted his hand out to grab Felix's own as he touched the paper, lacing just the tips of their fingers together. "Whose room does this stay in? Who gets custody of our glowing review?"

Chapter Text

The MSJDP tribunal hereby recognizes pilots Felix H. Fraldarius and Sylvain J. Gautier for exceptional service during the recent Category 5 double-occurrence.

 

Sylvain huffed in amusement beneath his breath. Short and to the point...sweet, too, if you considered that this was a commendation and not a reprimand. 

"They liked our performance, I guess," he drawled, returning to the bed and snuggling in beside Felix. "No word on reassignment yet, but at least we're not in trouble."

Felix let his cheek rest heavily in Sylvain’s extended fingers as a smirk unfolded on his lips, for a moment at least. His head crooked to the side, gazing past Sylvain’s head as he heard the foreign sound of paper against the hard floor.

Hating the way his initial reaction of Sylvain going to retrieve the envelope was to reach for him, Felix curled into himself. Watching curiously, Felix kept his eyes, if not his hands to himself as Sylvain returned, sharing their… “Commendation?” Felix asked suspiciously.

Screwing his face in concern and subtle disbelief, Felix looked at the letter warily from the side of his eye. “I don’t know if I trust that…”

Sylvain squinted at the paper, blinking twice to clear his vision and make sure he was reading it properly. As he pored over the paper again and again, looking for any possible words he might have missed, he slipped an arm beneath Felix to hold him close, shoulder pillowing his head.

"Nah, it looks like they're serious, unless this is somebody fucking with us. But it looks legit. So...what do you think this means? For us, as pilots, I mean."

He pressed a tiny kiss to Felix's temple before resting his cheek atop his head, nuzzling into silky dark hair.

Felix moved easily in Sylvain’s arm as he shifted against his freckled skin, under his chin, getting a closer look at the recommendation. “So…we did well and we haven’t gotten fired.”

Tilting his head in towards Sylvain’s lips that pressed against his temple, Felix asked, “That about it, you think?” He looked up at Sylvain with a clear fondness. “It means maybe… maybe we have some kind of a chance of being reinstated as partners.”

"I'm a Gautier." Sylvain laughed and the sound was half-bitter, half-not. "I don't think I can get fired. Margrave funnels, like, a literal fuckton of money into the jaeger project every three months. You really think they'd reject his only suitable son?"

He reflexively twitched his right arm--still intact--beneath Felix and cuddled him to his chest. The idea of being reassigned together filled Sylvain with a spark of hope he didn't dare nurture. At least, not yet.

"I hope they’ll put us back together again, though," he breathed, pressing three more kisses to the top of Felix's head. "How is it piloting with Dimitri, anyway?"

Moving impossibly closer to his chest, Felix studied the Margrave’s only suitable son’s face. The bitterness that was in his voice was a hallmark of any time he spoke of his family. Half on his chest, half not, he looked at Sylvain, answering bluntly. 

“No, they won’t fire you. But they wouldn’t put you in a rig on the frontlines. And they wouldn’t have put you with two of the best pilots in the program.” 

Felix had come to terms with having to share Sylvain…at least in some aspects, with Dorothea. The woman’s skills as a pilot were undeniable. And that being said, so were Felix’s own-he could admit that now.

Three more kisses and infinity more to go, Felix propped himself up over the swell of Sylvain’s chest, folding his hands over each other. “I think we might have a chance,” he said with a weak curl to his lips, not used to being the hopeful one…but if that was all he had to do, he could carry that bit of the burden.

At Sylvain’s question, Felix laid his head down, ear to the steady thrum of Sylvain’s heartbeat. “As you’d expect, piloting with him is nothing like piloting with you. But,” he sighed, “He’s a good fucking pilot. Really good.” Felix let his eyes glaze over looking out into the darkness of the room. “It’s natural and I’ve worked well with him so…” he shrugged, “my only complaint is that he isn’t you.”

Felix's tiny, hopeful smile lifted Sylvain's spirits, though the darker part of him--the ugly one, the one that whispered to him in the dead of night--told him it was false hope, that their happiness wasn't meant to be. He shivered a little and drew Felix closer, playing it off as a response to the nonexistent chill in the air.

"You guys are good together," he begrudgingly admitted. Even though he didn't like Dimitri and was positive the feeling was mutual, he couldn't deny that the man was the best choice for keeping his Felix safe. Especially now that the world was becoming increasingly chaotic and dangerous. His arm tightened around Felix's smaller frame and he sighed. "Wish we could be together, though. It was..."

Seamless. Beautiful. Something Sylvain would give almost anything to get back.

Felix’s hand shot up, cupping and pressing down over Sylvain’s lips muffling whatever would have bookended his statement. Hand over his mouth, Felix leaned up looking dead in his eyes. “It will be everything.”

His amber gaze didn’t waver. It wasn’t ever completely obvious, but Felix could tell when something was just the slightest bit off with his partner. Since Sylvain had grown so accustomed to putting on a façade, masking his most basic discomforts, the shifts were nearly innocuous, but Felix had grown attuned to better identify them. And the current situation was no exception. He remained poised above Sylvain with pointed attention.

Sylvain's eyes shot comically wide as his next words were cut off and he immediately stopped trying to talk, focusing instead on Felix's words. He knew the look in Felix's eyes--he was worried, and Sylvain was the cause. But while the thought normally would have sent him into a spiral of self-loathing, this time he just felt warm. Safe. Cared for, like he was worth comforting. Like he was worth something.

"Yeah, you're right," he said with a weak chuckle. "I'm sure they'll put us back together soon enough. And even if they don't, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Fe. But, since they liked our performance so much, do you think we'll get a prize or something?"

Intent eyes widened in relief as the storm behind Sylvain’s own countenance passed. Pleased and moving his hand, Felix threaded his hand in Sylvain’s hair, stroking the side of his head while he spoke.

“What,” he asked with a dry tone. “That piece of paper isn’t prize enough?” Felix pressed up, steepling over Sylvain, reaching to shake the paper. “They even used some card stock for this.” Looking down with a wry smirk at his partner, he continued, “Not just anyone gets that.”

"Oh, fancy!" Sylvain responded with exaggerated enthusiasm. He darted his hand out to grab Felix's own as he touched the paper, lacing just the tips of their fingers together. "Whose room does this stay in? Who gets custody of our glowing review?"

His eyes glinted with mischief for a moment, then softened as he turned his head to look at Felix. He began gently stroking the side of his hand with his thumb, a contemplative expression on his face.

"You're a prize all by yourself, you know."

Seeing the mischief in his eyes, Felix was a man compelled. Instead of speaking, he took Sylvain's hand, dragging the paper closer to his mouth, gently taking the slightly thicker stock paper between his teeth, turning his head to the side. 

"'e 'an bof hav haf!"

But when Sylvain touched him as gently as he did, Felix's sharp features relaxed, softening as he took in his partner and his words. Leaning into his large hand, Felix let the paper fall from his teeth as he looked down, unable to hold Sylvain's soft gaze. How Sylvain managed to say such things so bluntly always escaped Felix's understanding. 

"I don't know that...but I'm glad you think so."

"Well, I know it, and I'll remind you every waking moment if that's what you need to believe it's true."

For his part, Sylvain could hardly believe he was saying something so sappy. But then, Felix had a way of bringing out all the sappiness that had apparently been lying dormant for most of his life, and he was happy to indulge him. He took the paper gently in his other hand, still not pulling back from Felix, and set it on the nightstand. 

"Wonder if they'll have some kind of a celebration again," he mused to himself. "Though to be honest, I'm not sure if they'd be celebrating us king-hitting that motherfucker Fulcrum, or if we'd all be celebrating MSJDP dodging the wrath of Margrave Gautier for letting his son get killed in action."

From the way Sylvain held his face, there was no way he didn’t feel Felix’s cheeks warm from his words. The smaller man settled back down against his chest, content to lay there until he had to be moved. They had already lost so much time and had come terrifyingly close to losing it all and for the moment, Felix did not want to nor could he part from his Sylvain.

He laid on the man, listening silently to his musings. Face cast to the side, Felix shrugged limply. "Does it matter? This place needs all the motivation and morale building it can take. And..." Felix paused for a second, bringing up his hand to look at his ring. "I wouldn't mind going to and leaving a party with you for once."

Sylvain's face broke into a soft, warm smile as the band on Felix's finger caught the light and then his eye. He took Felix's hand gently and kissed it once, then nuzzled his palm open with his cheek. Though it remained unspoken, their mutual terror at the near-miss was almost palpable. He breathed a cool puff of air against the inside of Felix's wrist to ground himself before speaking.

"It would be a nice change of pace, wouldn't it? Another first for us, I think." Sylvain's expression grew serious for a moment as Dimitri's ugly words from their fight in the showers flooded his memory. "We still have plenty of those. And I just thought of another one, if you wanted...I've never thrown a party before. Crashed a bunch, but never hosted. Feel like going out and raising some hell with me?"

Sylvain was an expressive individual whether he wanted to be or not. And as much as Felix watched him, it was impossible to miss the way his features changed in the moment. And it didn’t take Felix more than a moment for the oddly specific phrasing to register in his mind.

Dimitri.

Whether from experience with the man or just a sheer and utter non-belief in what was said (and preoccupation with literally everything else in that bathroom), Felix had practically ignored what he had said. However, it seemed as if Sylvain had taken it to heart in the moment…and every moment since.

He hummed contentedly. “I’ve had many firsts with you and I don’t see that stopping any time soon.” He raised Sylvain’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his ring, his eyes never leaving Sylvain’s. “Or ever,” he bookended resolutely.

Letting his expression flatten, he deadpanned, to no one’s shock or surprise, “I’ve never thrown a party. But if you’re there and want to raise some hell,” a mischievous smirk curled at the corner of his mouth, “I’m there.”

Once again, Sylvain was soothed by not only his words but his gentle touch. It had been a long damn time since physical contact had meant anything to him, and he was surprised every time by the way his heart fluttered just a little whenever Felix reached for him. His eyes lit up once more and the corners of his mouth curled up in a genuine smile as he raised their joined hands to his own lips and kissed Felix's knuckles.

"I am so down for that. We have a lot to celebrate, don't we? Now c'mon--as much as I'd love to stay here and admire your gorgeous, naked form, we have a party to throw."

Sylvain shimmied quickly into his own clothing. The underwear and plain black t-shirt were easy, but the snug pants required a bit of undignified hopping. When he'd accomplished his goal and had finished looking over his shoulder to shamelessly check out his own ass, he turned back to Felix and shamelessly checked him out, too.

The pleasure and contentment Felix got when he saw the light come back to Sylvain’s eyes was next to nothing. Felix sat up, throwing his clothes on watching Sylvain and checking out his ass because, who wouldn’t?

When he looked back Felix did something that he had never done before–he winked. It was probably done atrociously, missing the mark completely, wholly unlike Sylvain or Dorothea. But…it came as a natural reaction when his partner caught him. The novelty of the moment likely wasn’t big, but it certainly was a welcomed action to the man himself. A new level of comfort…and all because of Sylvain.

Chapter 52: Three-in-One

Summary:

"I'll always be here," Sylvain murmured softly in response. "For as long as you want me, and even if you don't. Sorry to say it, but you're stuck with me." He cracked a lopsided little smile and kissed the top of Felix's head, then grabbed the horrible three-in-one and began to gently wash his hair.

Chapter Text

Felix stood up, gathering himself carefully. “I don’t know about you, but I need to shower.”

Truth be told, he felt as if he could still smell the pressed linens that had been his home for what had been weeks. He wanted to scald himself and eradicate that scent from his memory as soon as humanly possible. He stepped closer to Sylvain and looked up at him.

“You can go ahead if you want and just tell me where you want me to meet you. I just…” His eyes dropped to Sylvain’s chest, “…it’s stupid, but right now, I feel like I’m still in there.” Felix felt so foolish admitting such a weakness.

Sylvain gave himself another cursory glance and frowned. "Yeah, I could probably use one, too. Why not? Hopefully we'll be left alone this time. Not that anything has to happen!" he added hastily, then laughed at himself. By now, he'd grown comfortable enough with Felix for there to be a well-established unspoken agreement between them: Not everything is about sex. And damn if it didn't make him feel all the more secure.

He grabbed his bag of toiletries, neatly packed and ready to go by the door, as well as two clean and equally immaculately folded towels from the top of the wardrobe. "Wish they had better soap," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Smells good on you though, so I can't complain. You ready to go?"

Felix felt the beginnings of the need to protest. Sylvain didn’t need to come, he would be fine. But any objections went unsaid and forgotten. Felix just took Sylvain at his word. He said *he* could use one. Nothing at all was said about him being too weak or Sylvain not wanting him to be by himself.

The reality of their trip to the showers was as normal and uneventful as could be and Felix couldn’t be more appreciative. He wanted to be with Sylvain in every aspect, and finally the chance for something uneventful? Yes. Felix needed that. They likely both did.

He nodded, walking forward. “You always smell good. But yeah, let’s go.”

Sylvain nudged open the door to the showers without bothering to knock--he sensed that Felix's reasoning for the shower went beyond the mere sterile, off-putting smell of the infirmary ward and though he wasn't quite sure what it was yet, he had one goal and one goal alone: to help Felix get back to normal, or at least somewhere in that neighborhood.

He hummed the same tune from their first time in the showers to himself as he turned on the water and tested the temperature with his wrist, occasionally singing a few bars in a low, melodic baritone. When he was satisfied that they would neither freeze nor burn, he set his bag down and undressed again, grinning foolishly at how many times he'd done this in the last few hours. After stepping under the spray and allowing the water to stream over his face and down his neck, wetting his hair, he opened his eyes and beckoned Felix closer. Sylvain began to think that maybe if he tried hard enough, he could be an anchor.

Moving with Sylvain down the hallway, Felix felt that with each step, more familiarity and more contentment grew within him and his surroundings.

Once inside, he took his time disrobing, letting Sylvain go first, standing under the spray. Naked, Felix had no thoughts of sharing the same shower until he saw Sylvain beckon him over. And in that moment, he couldn’t see him not standing under the water with him.

Moving to him, Felix went directly under the water’s spray and let it cover and drench him. He let the water pressure flatten and press his hair for a long while before pressing it all back, blinking through his blurry vision. With the spray to his side, he looked up at the equally soggy Sylvain and wrapped him in a hard hug. The contact was unintended. Head planted against his skin, Felix spoke over the sound of the water on the tiles. 

“Thank you.”

Simply having Felix near was enough to fill Sylvain with a now-familiar warmth, but the fierce hug took his breath away. He wrapped one arm around his fiancé and reached up with his free hand to brush wet strands away from Felix's face. He couldn't quite place the emotion in Felix's voice, nor could he name the emotions it stirred within him, but he didn't care.

"Thank you for what, Fe?" 

Sylvain was genuinely puzzled at the sudden expression of gratitude, unsure what he could possibly have done to evoke such a response but grateful all the same.

The words tumbled out gracelessly. “For being here. Being you. Being here with me.” They were simple things, things that Felix didn’t think needed to be explained. That Sylvain was and remained patient and gentle with him, unassuming, yet ready to accept him just as he was… Felix had never experienced that in any aspect of his life.

He loosened his grip, but didn’t completely let go. “You’re good to me,” he tried to explain, making things he had long since availed himself of clear, “It just means a lot to have you and that you’re here because you want to be…not because you have to be.”

"I'll always be here," Sylvain murmured softly in response. "For as long as you want me, and even if you don't. Sorry to say it, but you're stuck with me." He cracked a lopsided little smile and kissed the top of Felix's head, then grabbed the horrible three-in-one and began to gently wash his hair.

"Anyway, what did you have in mind for this evening's festivities? I was kinda hoping we could throw knives or something like that, but I'll settle for darts." Sylvain paused for effect, then with a playful lilt in his voice, added, "Felix, I am terrible at darts."

It was true enough; as it turns out, if you accumulate enough head trauma over the years, it really fucks with your vision, Sylvain thought glumly to himself, then pushed the thought away. Such darkness had no place here, not now, not when they were finally able to properly celebrate.

Dropping his hands, the soft response he received would remain unremarked upon as kneading fingers lathered his hair. Felix trusted Sylvain for better or worse and that was enough. As was their fate to be stuck together. Through thick and thin, hell or high water, they were partners, that was it. And Felix was content with that.

Leaning every which way into the comfort of his roving fingers, Felix’s vision swayed. “I don’t have any ideas for it. And even if I did,” he let out a dry huff, “I don’t know if I’d think about throwing knives.”

But he should and now that was literally all he wanted to do.

Felix did, however, come up and resurface just enough from his new throwing dagger fantasy to answer in a deadpan. “Anyone who brags at being good at darts is a jackass.” He looked up at Sylvain through the bit of mist that rose from the water spray, closing one eye to the suds slowly creeping down his forehead. “Have you ever met someone who, stone cold sober, brags about being good at darts and thought, ‘This is someone I aspire to be like’?” The answer was a solid no.

"Is that right?" Sylvain answered, genuinely surprised--not to mention pleased that the bragging-about-darts thing was one douchey pitfall he'd managed to avoid. He wiped the lather away from Felix's face, feeling protective even of his eyes --another surprise. "Now that you mention it, no, that's one guy I definitely don't want to be like."

Even more than I'd prefer to not be myself, his mind added. He swatted the thought away again. 

Sylvain chose to focus on the excitement he'd picked up from Felix at his suggestion, and he leaned into it hard. 

"I saw the way your eyes lit up when I mentioned the knives, Fe. We're on a damn military base; I'm sure they've got something suitable around here somewhere. Have you ever thrown knives before?" His fingers continued to work a soothing rhythm against Felix's scalp as he rinsed his hair clean.

Felix nodded along silently. Darts were fun to be played with by amateurs and the people on the Entertainment and Sports Programming Network’s late night fare with those stupid three-fingered gloves. But bragging about it, now that was a whole entire other breed of dick.

Sylvain’s observation, however, managed to pull Felix’s mind from whatever dart-induced fever dream he had fallen prey to. Snapping back to the present, Felix crossed his arms, scrubbing at his skin making it pink. 

“Yeah,” he answered as he kept moving his hands. “I’ve thrown knives and little hatchets. It’s fun and especially satisfying when they stick in the target. Have you never done that?”

"Nah, my aim is terrible. It's one of the reasons I'm glad they gave me the flamethrower." The first being that it was cool as shit and if Sylvain's inner child had been normal and well-adjusted, he might have squealed with joy every time he got to see flames shoot out from Adder's arm. "But maybe you could teach me a thing or two?" The question was innocent and hopeful rather than suggestive, and Sylvain paused to recognize that this was yet another first.

He smiled softly as Felix described the satisfaction; it always felt good to see Felix excited about something he enjoyed, and goddamn if that wasn't another first for Sylvain, too. Moving behind Felix now, he began to rake his nails across his back in light strokes, as one might scratch a cat beneath its chin.

Felix chewed on the inside of his lip as he racked his brain. Had he ever questioned Sylvain’s aim? Hell, had he ever even seen Sylvain use any precision aiming before? The dull ache in his hips helped the dirty jokes regarding a particular aim from taking over his mind for the present moment…but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a time where he’d really noticed Sylvain’s precision or lack thereof. He’d pay closer attention…

A smile did, however, grace his face as he nodded in response to the question.

“There’s not much to it,” he said with a shrug. “You just can’t muscle it, but I’d be glad to. It would be fun to do.” 

And upon speaking the words into existence, Felix realized that, yes, that would be a good time and when the fuck was the last time that they had one of those that wasn’t completely comprised of one of them balls deep in the other?

The idea of them doing an activity together just for shits and giggles was far more enticing than Felix would have imagined…”oh, right there.”

He moved, contracting his muscles as Sylvain’s rounded nails raked up and down his back. Felix let his head sag forward as he let the simplicity of the moment linger. Satisfying scratches to his back, warm water cascading around him, their potential activity laid out, Sylvain at his side (figuratively-speaking)…Felix found himself at peace.

Sylvain did as instructed, alternating little loops and zigzagging patterns with broad, soothing swipes of his palm over the flushed skin. His hands crept up to Felix's shoulders and he began to knead at the tense muscle there, humming agreeably in response to his lover's words.

"I'm a pretty quick learner, and you're a good teacher; I'm sure we'll figure something out. So, we get you cleaned up, and then we go on the prowl for some dangerous items to throw and something to throw them at, right? I think I saw a few in the kitchen the other day that we might be able to 'liberate,' if you're up for a little heist."

He stilled the motions of his hands and turned Felix around to face him before bending down to speckle kisses all over his face, not even bothering to count this time. When he was finally satisfied with his work he drew back, lifting a hand between them to display pruney fingers. "I'll get us a towel."

With his hair wet and weighed down against his face, Felix turned his face with Sylvain’s guidance, squinting and stifling laughter. 

“All right, all right,” he patted against his wet skin. “Liberation heist it is. Let’s dry off and get me some new clothes.”

He stood, raising up to his toes, planting a slippery kiss to Sylvain’s cheek. A devious look appeared on his face, “And then we can go play with sharp objects.”

After turning off the water, Sylvain gathered Felix's streaming hair in his hands and gently squeezed out the water, then did as promised and offered him a towel. He was dressed in a flash and took a seat on the benches opposite the showers to wait. 

"Hey Fe," he started mischievously, "remember these?" He ran his hand across the cold metal, returning for a moment to his own vivid memories of the last time they were here--sans the brutal violence. Then he stretched out long across one and popped his back in no less than four places with a satisfied groan.

Felix toweled off as best as he could before throwing on his clothes. As soon, literally the second he stepped in his room, he would dispose of that set of clothing forever.

Sylvain’s voice, however, broke him from that oddly satisfying thought. He snapped his attention to the man who never looked more like a sly devil than he did in that moment, fingertips ghosting across the dull metal. Felix raised an incredulous brow at his partner. Of course he had remembered… all of it. He remembered coming from just his expert touches and the soft, hot breath that ghosted his skin… His eyes drifted beyond Sylvain. He also remembered crouching against the cold tile wall and how Dimitri’s sneer sounded, reverberating off the walls. He remembered how the blood pooled in a halo around Dimitri’s head and how much Sylvain had looked like Miklan in that moment over him.

At the time, he hadn’t been able to control himself, but now with only the memories and so much more time and experience with his partner, Felix willed himself not to react. 

Instead of flinching away, he closed their gap between them. Felix gingerly stepped over the bench, straddling both the structure and Sylvain before sitting on his lap and pulling him up into a fierce hug. “Yes, I remember. And I should’ve given you this.” Felix held onto him resolutely. “I’m sorry I didn’t then.”

"Given me what?" Sylvain's arms immediately wrapped around Felix in a protective embrace and he rubbed his cheek against damp hair. "A hug? Felix, you were terrified. I don't blame you for that. It was a shitshow, but it's over now, okay?" 

He drew back to place a careful kiss on the tip of Felix's nose, his eyes warm and soft. Sitting there in the showers, shrouded by clouds of slowly-dissipating steam, it was easy enough to let the memories fade away. Sylvain blinked once to clear the last of them, pushing his brother firmly out of his head. Eager to change the subject, he turned the topic of conversation back to the festivities.

"Wonder if we could find a picture of Lorenz to tack up and throw things at," he mused aloud as he traced comforting circles across Felix's back with both hands. "Too bad we threw out the sex resume. I guess we could also draw pictures of people we don't like. Or Gallos."

Felix nodded his head under Sylvain’s chin as he spoke. Yes, it was over and done with, but if he knew anything about his Sylvain, and he did, he knew that just because things were in the past did not mean they were over. But, he nodded and met his gentle gaze as he pivoted them away.

With the instant suggestion, Felix snickered, pinching at Sylvain’s cheek. “Don’t be mean. You chose that. I’m not going to let you try to hit it again.” Felix looked pointedly at him. “In any sense of the word.” Rising off of him, he shrugged his shoulders. “We can always put the papers filed against us on a board and cut those up.”

Sylvain stuck his tongue out in response and squinted his eyes at Felix before laughing delightedly. Their entire relationship seemed predicated on a series of increasingly close calls, but it appeared that the worst was over now. Or Sylvain hoped, he thought as he cuddled Felix close and lifted him, fully intending to carry him around until told to stop.

"Let me grab our stuff," he murmured, shuffling and bending at the knees to reach before slinging their belongings into Felix's arms. "Hang onto those til we get back to the room, and then we can find a suitable target. I'm sure there are plenty."

Chapter 53: One Man’s Croptop…

Summary:

When he was finished, the sleeves sat high on his arms, exposing his biceps but thankfully not cutting off circulation. The hem grazed the bottom crescent of his navel and Sylvain already knew that when he stood, there would be a good three or four inches of bare skin between the shirt and the waist of his pants. He spread his arms, grinning foolishly.

Chapter Text

With a satisfied grin, Felix released the freckled cheek, looking at the face of his handsome partner as he broke into healthy laughter. This was how Sylvain was always meant to look. No creases between his eyes, no terrible downturn with a glimmer of sharp, white teeth. But contented, eyes crinkling at the side with mirth…that was his Sylvain. That was his partner.

A small, involuntary yelp escaped his throat as he was lifted, grabbing onto and hanging on Sylvain’s neck as he was lifted for transport. Hanging on as he held onto their belongings as they traversed the hall. “Stop in my room,” he suggested as they continued. “At the very least I have bullshit notes I wouldn’t mind shredding.”

"Done," Sylvain said, comforted by Felix's grip. As he pushed the door open with his hip, he made sure to "accidentally" grab a generous handful of ass, meeting Felix's gaze as if daring him to say something.

His fiancé's room was not quite as orderly as his own, though Sylvain had learned to adapt. He'd spent more nights here while Felix was hospitalized than in his own room, curled up around his pillow with one of Felix's old shirts next to his head as he tried and failed to sleep.

This time, the room was a welcome sight. Though he was loath to do so, Sylvain placed Felix gently on the bed, then plopped down next to him.

"So, what sins are you trying to hide?"

It had been quite some time since he had been in his room and...oddly enough it looked slightly lived in? Felix shook his head as he was placed gently on the bed. That was a weird thing to fuck up to be honest.

As Sylvain sat by him, Felix stood, taking off the clothes that, even freshly laundered, had been a constant reminder of his hospital stay. Stripping inelegantly and rushed, he threw every article of clothing in a wad in his wastebasket. Uninhibited, unbothered, and naked as the day he was born, save for his ring, Felix set to find a completely new set of clean clothes as he spoke, looking over his shoulder at the man on his bed. "And what sins would those be?"

Sylvain allowed his eyes to roam Felix's bare frame openly as he searched for something to wear, his expression one of fondness and slight awe. The deep crimson of Felix's ring caught his eye and he twisted his own teal band with a dopey, lovesick smile.

"Anything you want to purge, really. Those papers would be a good place to start...or should we keep them? You know, in a box or something, along with our commendation. It kind of tells a story, don't you think? About us."

Felix rummaged around in his drawers pulling a set of tight boxers on himself, adjusting his fit before taking a rather large, slouchy hoodie and throwing it over his head unceremoniously. The jacket itself barely went to the bottom of his cheeks as the taut cuffs of his sleeves were bundled appropriately at his wrists.

He paused his random search as Sylvain spoke softly, gentle in tone and subject. His heart swelled with a passion that went far over and above anything he could readily point to. “Uh,” he started, a bit rocky when faced with such unbridled sweetness, “That’s…a really good idea, Sylvain. If you want…we can save the over view of our transfer orders.”

Felix crossed to his desk, leaning over, shifting folders and pads, he pulled a folder with a stack of paper within the fold. “These all came with it, but there’s a summary page as an overview.” He cocked his head, “What if we save that one and see how it goes from there?”

"Works for me," Sylvain replied agreeably as he slid up behind Felix and gave the hem of his hoodie a playful tug. He blanched at the sight of the stack of papers; he'd forgotten just how long-winded the MSJDP could be when they put their mind to it, which was all the time. "The paper's just there as a conversation starter, I guess. Something to jog our memories when we're both old and grey."

And for once in his life, the prospect of living to old age didn't scare Sylvain. It didn't even make him feel queasy. Just warm, and fiercely protective of his partner, regardless of whether or not they were paired together for missions.

"You know, as cute as your ass looks right now, don't you think you're forgetting something?" Sylvain swept his fingers over one cheek appreciatively but stopped himself at the simple touch. "As much as I'd love to show off just what everyone else is missing now that you're a taken man, I'm afraid I might get jealous."

Felix turned towards Sylvain who had crossed the room with an upturned chin. “Pants would be a pretty hard thing to forget you know.” He chuckled, “I had neuro load damage only. I didn’t get knocked in the head with a bad concussion.”

He had meant everything he said as a light joke, but as it came out, it seemed as though it might’ve been too soon to joke about fragile mortality and his very real brush with death.

Clearing his throat, Felix quickly squeezed by Sylvain not wasting any time, slipping on the first pair of pants that he found. Fastening them as they hugged his small muscular figure, he looked to Sylvain expectantly. “Do you need to change or anything?”

Sylvain eyed Felix appreciatively as he slithered into his pants, marveling at how they fit him just-so. The dark joke provoked a startled laugh and unlike the countless times Sylvain had found humor in a near-miss, the familiar under current of terror was lacking.

"Should I change? Maybe I could steal one of your shirts...it'd be tight, but I'd look pretty hot, don't you think?" He threw Felix an obnoxious wink, just because.

If Felix rolled his eyes any harder, they were liable to fall right on out of his skull. But even with the awful, terrible, cliché wink, Felix was glad to see it. There was a fondness that was undeniable between the two in the raw moment and that they could easily get by it filled the man with a contentedness that he hadn't known before.

Moving back by Sylvain, He fished out a folded charcoal gray shirt that, when he unfurled the garment, honestly, might look like a crop top on his larger frame. Holding it in his teeth Felix curled his fingers along the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and off Sylvain gingerly, cognizant of any big movements.

"'ere. 'ut it on," he gritted out, presenting his shirt to Sylvain as he traded it for the one he had just lifted from Sylvain that he may or may not be getting back... "Let's see it."

The prospect of losing a second shirt to Felix was too tantalizing to ignore, and Sylvain remained pliant and obedient as the shorter man pulled it over his head, wriggling his shoulders to help. He took the smaller shirt in exchange and held it up before him to study it, lips twitching in amusement. Then he began the arduous process of squeezing himself into it with incremental movements like an arthritic snake.

When he was finished, the sleeves sat high on his arms, exposing his biceps but thankfully not cutting off circulation. The hem grazed the bottom crescent of his navel and Sylvain already knew that when he stood, there would be a good three or four inches of bare skin between the shirt and the waist of his pants. He spread his arms, grinning foolishly.

"How do I look? Now you, since we're apparently being teenage girls and trading shirts," Sylvain teased, though he couldn't deny his own eagerness to see Felix swimming in the same bland charcoal grey cotton. He always looked so adorable in oversized clothes, and his willingness to wear things that completely dwarfed him made Sylvain smile--the way he swam in a sea of fabric with a defiant scowl on his face, a silent I dare you to talk shit, even though no one ever did.

With Sylvain's arms out to the side of him, Felix had been taken back immediately to his childhood of playing with GI Joes and whatever other collection of anatomically-stacked action figures he had. Felix's mouth twitched and before he could stop it, a sharp bark of laughter erupted from his diaphragm and ebbed into peels of silent shakes as he bent over, resting his hands on his knees.

He began trying to form sentences in earnest and failing spectacularly. "You look," he breathed, "youlookridiculous!" At this point, Felix's stomach was beginning to hurt as small whines were interspersed with peals of laughter. "Oh god...oh fuck, please take that off..."

Felix's laughter was immediately contagious and Sylvain splayed his hands across his bare abdomen, doubling over with his own peals of mirth. He sank to his knees before Felix, looked him dead in the eye, and made a sexy show of removing the offending shirt. Unfortunately, he got stuck halfway through and let out a string of undignified sounds of struggle. When he finally freed himself, he collapsed onto his side with his temple against Felix's knee.

"Okay, so, do I just go topless, or what? I would put my shirt on, but somebody stole it...and you ripped the last one with your teeth while having impure thoughts of me, if memory serves." He grinned wolfishly as he sat up.

Wiping at his eyes, Felix shook as he tried to catch his breath as Sylvain fell to his knees. Watching him with big eyes, it was impossible to not notice the languid movements of his body, the coy look and lick to his lips that he gave as he peeled off the shirt...before getting stuck halfway through.

Felix let out the most undignified of undignified noises by snorting that led into further cackles as he moved forward, embracing and folding himself around Sylvain's head, holding him close as his stomach contracted almost painfully with the contagious laughter that had yet to fade away.

"No, no, no," he breathed out in a delayed answer. "Not topless, here." Felix pulled his original shirt from his shoulder, putting it backwards over Sylvain's head with barely held chuckles. He grabbed the sides of his head, meeting his gaze with red cheeks and watery eyes that were rife with fondness. "If you're good, maybe I'll rip this one off you later," he said before pressing a firm kiss into Sylvain's mouth.

Sylvain had never in his life experienced a desire to be "good," but he damn sure was now. He nodded dumbly, captivated by Felix's carefree expression, and finished pulling on his own shirt. He reached up to tangle his fingers in Felix's hair and whined pathetically into the kiss, then tore himself back. Delayed gratification was another thing in which Sylvain's interest could be generously described as "nonexistent," and now he was beginning to wonder whether settling down truly make someone a changed man.

"Later," he added breathlessly, then distracted himself with wrangling Felix into his shirt, though he did pause several times along the way to offer quick, tiny pecks to his lips. "But you have to admit, it looked pretty good while it lasted, right?"

Voice back to near normal and sweatshirt back on as he pulled his head through, Felix answered obviously. "You'd make a garbage bag look good." Felix eyes him with a sly narrow to his eyes. "Notice I didn't say paper bag." At the last word, he lifted his shirt, patting the hard muscles under the well of his navel; Sylvain's auburn hair just at his nimble fingertips. "You're too ripped for one of those." Jokes weren't and wouldn't ever be Felix's thing, but he didn't care. Sylvain was stuck with him now.

Genuinely happy and genuinely hoping to rip his clothes to shreds later, Felix stepped back, collecting the litany of papers citing to statutory language and procedural boilerplate that would make an IP attorney roll their eyes.

"So," he started, watching Sylvain expectantly as he stepped into his boots. "Heist time?"

Chapter 54: Bullseye

Summary:

He set up the cutting boards in a mixed collage covering what would serve as their down range targets, moving a series of plastic garbage bins lining the edge of their throwing alley-because safety. When he stood back meeting Sylvain back at where they would start throwing their collection of pointy (or not) utensils, Felix stood at his side with his hands on his hips admiring his handiwork. There was nearly a twelve by five foot area sectioned off that had individual cutting boards set up as larger or smaller targets with random typewritten pages affixed to them signifying potential targets.

Chapter Text

While Sylvain would have been content to remain like that forever, letting Felix pet and praise him, the appeal of their plans for the evening was too strong to resist. 

"Heist time," he agreed, snatching Felix's free hand in his own and practically dragging him out the door and down to the mess hall.

At this time of day, there were few cadets milling around the cavernous room, and the clipped, purposeful strides of their boots against the concrete echoed. It was officially the least-sneaky heist in the history of heists, but stealth had never been Sylvain's strong suit, anyway. He led Felix back into the kitchens, where they probably weren't supposed to be, though Sylvain didn't know for sure whether it was off-limits because he'd never bothered to ask.

"Linhardt!" he called softly, suppressing a giggle at the way the man's dark green bob jerked as he looked up with wide, sleepy eyes. "I need sharp stuff. A bunch of it. Don't care what it is. Help a guy out?"

Sylvain was already busy opening cupboards and rummaging around, lining up his weapons of choice neatly on the counter: a paring knife, a honing rod, three large cleavers, and a whisk.

Felix double-timed it as Sylvain pulled him through the walkways, surpassing the mess halls and entering the back entrance of the kitchens.

When they arrived, it became increasingly clear to Felix that the two held two very different definitions of the word ‘heist.’ Felix had assumed that their mission was to be one of secrecy; it was something to be done incognito and without notice. However, as it seemed, that was not the Sylvain way. Felix stood beside him holding his hand trying not to laugh as he addressed the cook.

As if on a comatose autopilot, the man moved, emitting a series of different sleep-deprived noises. It was to Felix’s deep surprise when he saw the green haired chef moving almost efficiently throughout the kitchen collecting various items and stacking them for Sylvain. Busying himself, Felix picked out a large salad fork, potato peeler, a standard butter knife, and a multitude of beat up, wooden cutting boards.

He had everything stacked in his hands, still looking in disbelief at Linhardt who stared blankly back before waving them away and slumping down into a fold of his arms. Hands full, Felix cast his bewildered gaze up to Sylvain. 

“That’s it?”

Sylvain smiled at Felix's choice of tools--all efficient, but incredibly varied; he thought they suited Felix nicely. That said, his whisk was the superior item and that was a hill Sylvain was absolutely willing to die on. He scanned the kitchen once more and snatched a small handheld grater off the counter, on the off-chance that one of the blades might stick to something and win him a point. And, hopefully, a prize.

"Yep, I think so," he said cheerfully. It had been a long time since he'd looked forward to anything like this--if Felix thought gatherings were uncomfortable, that discomfort was easily trumped by the whirlwind that picked up inside Sylvain's head every time he was at a party, to the point that he once thought he was turning into Dorothy fucking Gale.

He balanced his not-entirely-ill-gotten gains in one arm, slung the other across Felix's shoulders, and began the short walk back to the mess hall. After taking a moment to survey the space, he pointed to a corner he knew was seldom-used. The tables had been long since moved to another part of the mess hall, which made it the ideal place to fuck around with dangerous objects. Sylvain turned to Felix with a raised brow and motioned grandly at the wall. 

"Go for it. Set us up a good target, Fe."

Before Sylvain ever motioned to the empty wall, Felix's eyes followed to their intended location. His eyes lit up, grinning with something just on the side of playful, just adjacent to vicious when their space for competition was selected. "I got you," he answered.

Without missing a beat, Felix walked over to the corner and got to work. He set up the cutting boards in a mixed collage covering what would serve as their down range targets, moving a series of plastic garbage bins lining the edge of their throwing alley-because safety. When he stood back meeting Sylvain back at where they would start throwing their collection of pointy (or not) utensils, Felix stood at his side with his hands on his hips admiring his handiwork. There was nearly a twelve by five foot area sectioned off that had individual cutting boards set up as larger or smaller targets with random typewritten pages affixed to them signifying potential targets.

Still admiring his creation, Felix smirked, knocking into Sylvain's side. "Well? What do you think?"

“So much better than I could have imagined," Sylvain answered happily, knocking Felix with his hip in return. "And here I was, picturing a few measly pages taped to the wall. But...is it even possible to throw those things hard enough to make the stick in the cutting boards?" Thank god Linhardt wouldn't care about a few extra dings.

He reached out and took the honing rod, turning it over in his hands to admire its weight. Remembering something he'd once heard about ‘balance,’ he moved his index finger roughly toward the middle and attempted to keep the tool level. 

He failed miserably. 

Gathering what was left of his pride, he bent more or less gracefully to retrieve it before looking at Felix sheepishly. 

"Show me how it's done?"

Felix brought his hand up to his mouth, nearly slapping himself as he stifled the laughter as the metal rod cascaded to the floor in amazing fashion, hitting both of Sylvain's hands no less than twice each. The look he offered Felix was cute, but the request was what caught and narrowed his attention.

"Let's see." 

He reached down plucking from the pile a standard piece from their daily cutlery, a dulled butter knife. Rather than try and balance it in the middle of the item, Felix held the butt of the knife, bouncing it in his grip before taking the lighter end between his fingers, getting a feel for each end.

Getting to the edge of the tile at their feet, Felix flipped the knife towards the butt, holding it between his thumb, index and middle finger, looking down at the targets. Pushing up his sleeve and with a quick flick of his forearm, the dulled blade flipped ass over head four times before sticking lowly into one of the boards with a very satisfying plunk.

Felix's eyes lit up with a smile that was all teeth, looking from the target to Sylvain.

The easy, confident way Felix handled the knife, the concentration on his face, the grin...the way he rolled up his goddamn sleeves. One of those all on its own would have been enough, but Sylvain was beginning to genuinely worry that he would end up with a very confused boner by the end of the night. If not sooner. 

Awestruck, he moved toward Felix and placed a hand on his shoulder before taking another butter knife in his own hand. Yes, he was absolutely sure of it now--watching Felix whip a knife at their sanction should not have been hot, but it was. He held the knife in his hand for a moment as if trying to figure out what to do with it, then clumsily tried to arrange his fingers the way Felix had. He braced himself, raised his arm, and let go.

The knife flew an impressive six feet before clattering to the floor. Sylvain felt his cheeks warm and turned to Felix.

"Help, please?"

“Of course.”

With a comforting, if not only slightly teasing hand, Felix reached up cupping Sylvain’s face before he stepped forward. Walking out, he picked up the clattered knife as it bounced on the floor to the wall, wrenching the first knife from the slat.

Returning to their original position, Felix handed Sylvain the better knife he had thrown first to the taller man. 

“Look here. You want a light grip, just enough to control the rotation.” He pressed his fingers around the butt of the knife, situating them similar to his own grip. “The point is to give it a good path, not muscle it. Throwing it as hard as you can isn’t the idea here. Finesse, that’s all it is.”

Felix stepped back, kicking lightly at his feet to separate them. “Give yourself a little rock to have your whole body going in the same direction.” He demonstrated with a simple lift of his foot, nearly placing it down in the same position. “Don’t throw it. Try just that.”

"Lean into it," Sylvain muttered to himself. He concentrated hard and rocked back the way Felix had shown him and lifted his arm, eyes laser-focused on his target. With a long, controlled exhale, he released the knife. It turned and over end, wobbling slightly, and hit the board...before bouncing off.

"Fuuuck," Sylvain groaned in frustration. "Show me how you do it again. Maybe I'll learn something."

He quickly gathered a knife he'd just thrown and placed it firmly in Felix's hand, then stepped behind him and  put his hands on the shorter man's hips to glance over his shoulder and watch his movements.

"I told you not to throw it yet," Felix chuckled as Sylvain cursed, going by him quickly to retrieve the knife. Something so precise with such necessary, small, measured movements, it was a deceptively difficult thing to master.

When Glenn had taught him, it had been a very long process. Felix's frustration held strong for hours upon hours until the sun had vanished beyond the mountains that surrounded his childhood home, but his stubbornness to succeed and beat this particular obstacle into submission won out in the end with the lights that flooded the backyard. Just like the sharpened hatchet that stuck into the lowest possible inch of the wooden target, the tired smile that Glenn wore, that too was imprinted in his mind even years later.

When he came back, Felix had never taken the time to truly appreciate the man's dedication until now. When Sylvain positioned himself at his back, Felix spoke gently. 

"That was closer. You've got a piece of it down." Felix flipped the knife in his hand, bringing it up to his taller eye level. "Keep it on the pads of your fingers. A delicate touch, just enough to hold it steady." He raised his hand mirroring his light grip for Sylvain, grasping onto the hand that held his hip.

"Keep your elbow above your shoulder and keep it level as you bring your forearm down. Don't snap your wrist. Keep your arm at one hinge."

Felix mirrored his words as he demonstrated with slow movements. "You're generally going to release it at what looks like slightly above your intended target." He looked from just in front of him back to Sylvain.  "And then, you just put it all together starting from the floor up."

Raising his arm, he set his elbow out in front of him, just higher than ninety degrees. Taking the knife, leaning on his back foot, weight pressed back against Sylvain, he lifted his front. He methodically set it down, shifting his body forward as he released the knife.

Thunk.

It stuck in the middle of the paper in the middle of the board, Felix turned in Sylvain's grasp with a smile, grasping at his large hands. "You're already close. Want to try again?"

Felix's voice, soft and calm, flowed into his ears. Sylvain closed his eyes for a moment, pacified, and then took the knife. He studied it again, admiring the cold gleam of the scuffed metal under rows of harsh fluorescent lights. He crossed one arm across Felix's chest and lifted the knife with the other. For a moment he hesitated, thinking of Mia's calm chirp: Gallos. Felix's smile, shy and brilliant. The commands blaring all around them.

The blade flew through the air and while it didn't hit the center, it at least hit the target. Sylvain gave a yelp of glee and jumped up and down, jostling Felix with each bounce. 

"I got one! Did you see it?" he asked exuberantly, as if the man hadn't literally been right in front of him to watch the whole thing.

Felix didn't realize he was holding his breath until he expelled the rest of it when the knife wriggled, sticking fast into the wooden slat of the cutting board. Although when Felix turned to grip at Sylvain out of reflex, he was already grabbed and moved with ease in the excited man's grasp.

"I did! You got it right there!" Felix grabbed and hugged low on his chest looking up from under his chin. "I knew you could. Now do it again."

Sylvain rubbed his back, laughing softly and looking down into amber eyes lit up with happiness. While he loved Felix's hugs, these were the best--the ones when he was excited, when he let go of his ghosts and let himself live. And despite his apprehension about a repeat performance, Sylvain would do anything to see that smile again. 

He twisted slightly at the waist, keeping Felix firmly in his grasp, and selected one of the cleavers. He took it by the handle and, using the same technique as before, managed to throw it reasonably straight. This time, it stuck into the very edge of the cutting board, which still counted! And he would argue that point to the death if it came to that.

Allowing himself one more second to be held, Felix stood back as he let Sylvain pick his next item and whoa. Felix stepped back again, watching Sylvain's movements like a hawk. That he was so focused, so absolutely driven to apply himself, it sent a chill down Felix's spine. That he chose such a big knife...well that sent a similar chill, this one only with the slightest bit of apprehension.

When it stuck, dug deep into the pressed wood pulp, Felix balled his hand into a reactive fist, but endeavored to stay the slightest bit composed as he had a wild idea. 

"That counts, good job," he praised, moving by Sylvain to their mixed mountain of throwing instruments.

With more confidence than he had any right to have, Felix picked up the fucking whisk stepping back to Sylvain's side. He looked up and over at him with a sly sideways glance. 

"Watch this." 

As soon as the request was spoken, Felix locked onto his target with sharp eyes flinging the light whisk out at the butter knife Sylvain had stuck in the wood.

With a light clatter, the rungs of the whisk sounded against the handle of the knife as it shook, hanging off the metallic silverware. Felix let out a self-satisfied huff as he stood up looking at his handiwork.

Sylvain's breath left him all at once and he stood dumbfounded, jaw hanging slightly agape. His own fingers flexed uselessly at his sides as he tried to process the actual godshattering feat he had just witnessed. And the most mindblowing thing of all? When he turned to look at Felix, the man looked utterly unfazed, as though he'd known all along that it would stick perfectly. Just how many whisks had Felix thrown at knives on a board before? Sylvain both did and did not want to know the answer to that question.

"That was...incredibly hot," he murmured, now close to Felix's ear. "How and when and where did you learn to do that?" It seemed almost like destiny--that Felix would be able to add his own personal touch to Sylvain's moment of self-indulgent stupidity for the sake of stupidity. "Bet you can't get another knife through the loops of the whisk."

Taking in the scene that was a speechless Sylvain was not an oft had reaction. Staying close, Felix’s satisfied grin only increased as did the pale blush that spread over his cheeks upon hearing Sylvain’s astonished compliment.

“I had a good teacher,” he answered simply. “Learned a long time ago and just added to it.” All true. Maybe later he could tell him about the crazy exercises and drills he did with Glenn. Throws with weighted gloves, repetition pass offs, bottle cap targets, the works. But for now, Felix’s interest lied somewhere else and wholly in the challenge that was issued.

He turned to Sylvain, “Yeah? What are we betting?” Felix’s eyes flashed. “Name it.”

Sylvain now knew Felix's mind better than he knew his own, and while that wasn't saying much, he was able to pick up on the unspoken name: Glenn. A perpetual ghost, only now Felix seemed less haunted by his memory. He gave a lazy shrug and a smile as he pretended to ponder the prize.

"How about," he began, bending down to murmur in Felix's ear, "you get to do whatever you want to me if you can hit that target. But, like I said...bet you can't." 

Sylvain flicked his tongue across his earlobe as he drew back to a more socially acceptable distance, though his own gaze was sly as he eyed Felix, up and down and back again.

Felix’s gaze never wavered as Sylvain spoke or as he moved closer. His vision was interrupted for the moment that he took to himself when Sylvain’s tongue made contact with his sensitive skin. Suppressing a small shudder, Felix looked on as Sylvain wore a self-satisfied grin as he looked him up and down. Good.

“Another knife in the loop,” he repeated the challenge, “and I get to do whatever I want to you.”

Without another word, Felix bent into his foot, taking the small knife from the inside of his boot. Extending the fine blade, he looked down range as his field of vision narrowed to his target and the sounds around him faded into nothingness. Gripping the handle, Felix followed a practiced path, once, twice, three times before flinging his knife with a sound of exertion as he looked on after his path.

The whisk stood pinned, stuck straight down. Felix grabbed Sylvain as he pulled him towards the target. When they approached, it was clear what the big and growing bigger smile was for. The whisk had indeed been pinned against the wood at both ends. Felix hadn’t aimed at all for the looping metal of the tool itself, but instead the loop to hang the instrument at the end of its thin handle.

Crossing his arms, Felix’s smile broke across his face, open, unabashed, and positively pleased. That it was a surprise to him that he actually did it went unremarked-upon as he looked on at his fiancé for his reaction.

At this point, Sylvain was fairly certain that his eyes could not get possibly wider and that his jaw might actually be dislocated from how wide it was hanging open. Being led to the target by Felix was almost an out-of-body experience and he reached out with trembling fingers to touch it.

"How..." he started, then stopped and looked at Felix, utterly perplexed. "You cheated," he added weakly. "That wasn't one of the ones we boosted from the kitchen. Not that I mind...and I guess now it's up to you to claim your prize, whenever you want."

He nibbled at his own lip and suppressed a small shudder, looking down at Felix with dark, eager eyes. Then, reminding himself of where they were, he allowed himself to slip back into the moment and reached out to stroke Felix's face. "Never doubted you for a second," he said, giving his cheek an affectionate squeeze.

Standing and soaking in the moment of Sylvain’s utter disbelief was probably more satisfying and fulfilling than it should’ve been. Felix stood tall as his fiancé reached out with an affectionate touch.

“Not cheating,” he corrected, shaking his head. “You said ‘another knife.’ This,” Felix ventured lower before wrenching the pointed blade from the board, freeing the whisk’s handle, “is definitely another knife.” He brought the blade higher and folded it before stowing it back in his boot before he sounded too much like Crocodile Dundee.

Felix stood back up shrugging, not looking the least bit put out. “Should’ve been more specific I guess. But I won.”

"That you did," Sylvain agreed happily. "You have really good aim." He reached out to touch the papers and almost winced, squinting at the text ‘...reassigned to unique and separate deployment units.’ The corner of his mouth lifted in a savage, satisfied smile and he ran his fingertips over the whisk before turning to Felix and repeating the gesture, walking his fingers up his fiancé's arm to his shoulder.

"So," he hummed, plucking the rest of the utensils from the board, "that was another first for me. You took my knife-throwing virginity, Felix! Now you have to marry me." Sylvain fluttered his lashes dramatically like a heroine in an old silent film, then snatched Felix around the waist and dragged him in for a short, fierce kiss.

With his satisfied grin, Felix watched with fondness as Sylvain turned to him with a delicate touch, rising up his arm. He watched Sylvain with a bemused look as he spoke about everything from his aim to their compulsory wedding.

When Sylvain tugged him in close for an all-encompassing embrace, Felix arched his back into the pull meeting his lips with an equal fervor. Slightly breathless when they parted, Felix placed the flat of his hands against the broad expanse of Sylvain's chest. He spoke quietly, more to himself and his kiss-addled brain.

"I would've thrown a knife a long time ago if I knew I'd get that.” Chuckling, Felix met Sylvain's eyes with a fondness that was only for him. "Rules are rules."

"Get what?" Sylvain teased. "My undivided attention and undying devotion?" He cupped Felix's face in both hands and when he looked into his eyes, his own were serious. "Because you already have that, Fe. In spades, and I'm not planning on that changing. Ever."

He pressed their lips together again, lightly this time. It reminded Sylvain of the way he wished his first kiss had gone: simple, gentle, full of sweet innocence and the euphoria of new love. He broke it sooner than he would have liked, but reasoned that Felix had already won, and there was no harm on making both of them wait.

Rather than respond with any amount of sarcasm or response that would match  Sylvain's sweet words, Felix simply remained. He moved his hands, tracing his fiancé's body, over his shoulders, down his arms, finally covering his hands with his smaller hands. In that moment, Felix was far more content to remain as they were and let the truth of the moment wash and encapsulate the both of them, imprinting in their memories.

When Sylvain left his lips with a light press, Felix's reaction was to chase his mouth but instead, he remained still, letting his eyes flutter open lackadaisically. He breathed low and softly, "I love you, Sylvain. That won't ever change."

Sylvain smoothed his thumbs over Felix's cheekbones as he looked into his open, vulnerable face. "Never," he echoed as a startling realization came to him: for as many times as he'd used the line I could get lost in your eyes on women, with Felix, it was actually true. The tenderness of the moment was almost too much to bear and Sylvain felt an odd flash of protectiveness, an instinctive need to keep what they had private. After giving him three more quick pecks, Sylvain stepped back to study the board.

"This thing could use more holes," he said benignly, though his eyes sparkled mischievously as he glanced at Felix. "Don't you think? And that honing rod looks like just the thing. Bet you can't make that stick."

When Sylvain touched him so gently, when the man looked at him like that, Felix was ready and willing to walk through fire and back for his chosen one. Turning into his hand, Felix kissed at the soft inside of Sylvain's wrist before Sylvain broke away.

Watching after him Felix shewed on his cheek judging whether or not he would be able to stick the honing rod into the board. Maybe not by throwing it, he thought...but by beating the shit out of it repetitively in the same spot? Now that was something. Perhaps that was also something that would get them or Linhardt in trouble. So maybe he could pause on that.

Rolling his eyes fondly, Felix answered, "It could use more holes, but I'm out of tricks. If you aren't impressed yet," he continued with a pout, "I don't know what else I can do."

Sylvain thumbed at Felix's bottom lip before replacing the digit with a kiss, complete with a generous swipe of his tongue. Staying close this time, he murmured softly to Felix, breath ghosting against the shell of his ear like a phantom tide rolling in.

"Wanna go get inked? I don't have any tattoos yet, and I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy named Ignatz. Apparently, the poor bastard was an art student before he got drafted. Not sure how sanitary or safe it'll be, but I've seen a couple of his drawings and he's pretty solid."

Chapter 55: Skin-Deep

Summary:

"Ignatz with the big nuts!" Sylvain crowed, clapping a friendly hand to the artist's back. "My fiancé and I are here to get tattoos of...something. You're still doing that, right?"

Chapter Text

Sylvain reluctantly stepped back and held Felix at arm's length with his hands on his shoulders, doing his best to eye him for the ideal tattoo placement and not eye-fuck him.

"What do you think?"

Felix suppressed a shudder as his breath caught in his throat. That soft, low tone never failed to send shivers down his spine. But when he spoke, what he said took him completely aback.

"Inked?" Felix looked at him with a cocked head. "I'm...not opposed, actually." He looked up at Sylvain, "I'm game," he said with a smile. "You want to get a tattoo? What do you want?"

"Well," Sylvain began, lacing their fingers together and leading Felix out of the mess hall, "I was thinking of getting that stupid sigil my father still insists on using, like, 400 years after it was created or something. Maybe bastardize it. What would you get?"

He shouldered his way through the crowd, his grip on Felix's smaller hand growing incrementally tighter with each person they brushed past. Despite his reputation for being the life of the party, Sylvain had never done well with crowds; while he could charm anyone in the world, he also dreaded every second of it, every interaction, every expectation.

They wound their way through the base and down an alleyway to an unassuming metal door. Sylvain rapped twice with his knuckles and offered up a wide grin in greeting as a diminutive, bespectacled man opened the door. 

"Sylvain?"

"Ignatz with the big nuts!" Sylvain crowed, clapping a friendly hand to the artist's back. "My fiancé and I are here to get tattoos of...something. You're still doing that, right?"

Ignatz smiled timidly and stepped aside to let them in. The room was mostly orderly, save for a few illustrations of kaiju innards strewn across the desk. Ignatz fidgeted with his shirtsleeves before gathering his supplies and motioning for Sylvain to sit down. He pushed a sheet of paper and a pen across the desk and asked softly, "Would you mind drawing what you want?" 

Then he offered another pen and a pad of paper to Felix with a nod, indicating the same request.

As they moved Felix couldn't help roll his eyes when the Margrave was mentioned. Of course a relic of the past like him would want to emblazon whatever he could with their family crest. Felix himself had only ever heard about his own on separate occasions and never in a compulsory manner. That if he were to utilize the Fraldarius crest, it was to represent them all with pride. And as of late, as Felix continued learning and continued finding himself, the more conviction he had that yes, he could indeed wear it with pride.

When Sylvain rushed them through, Felix held his hand increasingly tighter as they passed person after person. The man for whatever reason wanted to stay with him and if that was the case, Felix would be the one to make certain he held him safe and close. They continued through the crowd in a predetermined manner before arriving at a metal door, face to face with a small man.

Standing back from the two, he took the pad in his hands from the soft-spoken man, his mind ran with possibilities. Felix turned towards Sylvain, "So, what are you going to do? I'll do it with you." He looked up at the man, "Twin family crests?"

"Let's combine both of ours, maybe," Sylvain said, quickly sketching out a rough design based on memory. He squinted at the page, tore it out, and tried again. At this point, there was no use in pretending that he hadn't looked up the Fraldarius family crest, and he saw no point in hiding it. He stood between Ignatz and Felix with outstretched arms so they could both see his design.

"Nightmarishly craptacular, I know, but you get the idea, right? The curved parts of mine with the spikes, and then Felix's shield and circle and stuff on the inside." Sylvain gestured vaguely in the air and began to remove his shirt, for once not making a show of it--he wanted to tease Felix as much as possible, and also didn't want to fluster Ignatz before he started digging needles into his skin.

The scars on his back were many; some had healed well and left faint marks, while others had developed into thick keloids that stood out strawberry-pink against pale freckled skin. Sylvain shrugged nonchalantly; the memories had faded to nightmares long ago, and he saw no shame. Flipping the chair at the desk around, he hunched with his arms draped over the back criss-cross and looked at Felix, shooting him a devilish wink.

The pad in his hand dropped to the side as Felix stood gobsmacked at Sylvain and his idea. That he wanted to share something permanent, that he wanted to proudly show something that linked the two of them inextricably was more than Felix could handle in the moment.

While Ignatz...with the big nuts, apparently...took the drawing and began lining over it for his own design purposes, Felix walked around to Sylvain. Of course he had seen Sylvain in the buff many times before, however, under the sterile and harsh illumination of his studio's light, the multitude of Sylvain's scars never seemed more apparent than they were in that moment. And Felix couldn't remember a time where he wanted to cover Sylvain more, to shield him from everyone and everything.

Walking to him, Felix ran his fingertips across his shoulders, gripping the back of his neck firmly, before ghosting his lips over three scars that littered his freckled shoulders. 

"I love the idea of combining them," he breathed. "I'll be yours and you'll be mine. Officially and forever."

Sylvain sighed into the gentle touch, relaxing in a way that he knew would benefit him when Ignatz began his work. He shivered at the light touch of the contact paper on his back, and then the thin coating of Vaseline. 

"Ready?" the artist murmured, and his hesitant tone was more soothing than alarming. Sylvain closed his eyes for a moment when the bundle of needles first made contact, then lifted his gaze to Felix's face and locked eyes with him. With each pass across both pristine and scarred skin, Sylvain thought about the origin of the scars and the future that lay ahead of them. His heart sounded in his chest, and he flashed Felix a small, genuine smile through the pain.

Felix stood back as the green-haired artist set to his craft. Unsure of whether he was wanted close or not, He offered a squeeze to his neck as he took a seat on the stool lined against the wall.

He watched with steady and careful eyes as Ignatz dipped his needle and took it to Sylvain’s skin. To see the man wince and see any sort of pain that wasn’t of their own creation made Felix flinch. But perhaps this was for them. This pain would only result in the furtherance of them.

“Sit steady, love,” he breathed as he slid his hand to Sylvain’s and tightened his grip.

Sylvain squeezed Felix's fingers and tried his best to hold still, recalling the time Miklan had left him standing in a field with a book on his head well past dark. He blinked away the memory and winced as the needle passed over a particularly tender spot, then abruptly laughed.

"Holy fuck, this hurts," he wheezed. The artist waited patiently until the fit had passed, then resumed. "Worth it, though. Where are you going to get yours, once my torture is over?" He cast a glance over his shoulder in a vain attempt to see the work.

“Hey. You don’t have eyes in the back of your head. You’ll see it eventually. He’s doing,” Felix leaned over, surveying Ignatz’s work with an arched brow. “…well. Very well. So hold still for the man.” It was hard to miss the man’s high cheeks as they went from pale to red. It was cute.

Felix squeezed Sylvain’s hand before dropping it in favor of moving in front of the full length mirror, surveying his options. “I’m not sure,” he answered, turning into the mirror and checking his reflection. “Back or side of my neck. Forearm? Maybe my forearm. My chest. Maybe lower…”

Sylvain's eyes shamelessly roved Felix's form, pausing to appreciate each body part as it was mentioned. The back might be cute, but maybe too matchy-matchy, he thought to himself. The mental image of Felix with a goddamn neck tattoo of all things was hot beyond belief and Sylvain certainly wouldn't complain about his chest either, but the last part gave him pause.

"'Lower'?" he repeated, a sly little smile creeping onto his lips despite the pain. His gaze dropped to Felix's lithe hips and he raised a brow. "Tell me more?"

“Lower,” he repeated plainly. Not catching the lasciviousness that creeped into Sylvain’s smile. Without a semblance of embarrassment or self-doubt, Felix lowered the waistband of his pants, lifting his sweatshirt. The pale expanse of his stomach showed as well as the hint of his faint dark hair from where he pulled the waistband.

“I don’t think I’d hate something here.” Felix tapped a calloused finger near his hip bone, just next to the vein that rose from his otherwise taut skin. Hands still on himself, he turned to Ignatz and asked, “Is that something you could do?”

Ignatz looked on with the steady, detached gaze of an artist surveying his canvas. He paused a moment before responding, taking the time to consider and finish his work on Sylvain's back. When he looked up again, he nodded once before averting his eyes with a light blush.

"Very good. Lie down over there," he instructed softly.

For his part, Sylvain's gaze was locked on the exposed strip of pale, unblemished skin. Although he lamented the fact that Felix's hip would be off limits for a while, he couldn't wait to see it healed--a tangible reminder that they belonged to each other.

"God damn,” he breathed. "Do it."

The small voice of assent he heard from the artist was all that he needed. The space was something he had never really thought of, but the idea of having his family’s sigil was something that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. It was only ever going to be on his left side and it was going to be after Felix had done something enough that he could be proud of to represent the Fraldarius name. And right now, it was the first time Felix felt like he earned it.

It wasn’t until Felix hoisted himself on the chair that Sylvain’s last-filled voice registered. He looked over at the man with an arched brow as if to look for a clarification…though seeing and needing none, Felix gave him a smirk before lining up and laying down. He was sure to keep the pass of uncovered skin clear in Sylvain’s eyesight. And if he held his waistband a smidge lower, dipping his thumb into the thatch of navy hair, he didn’t specify. He did, however, turn towards Sylvain when he responded, only the slightest bit coyly, “You seem enthusiastic about the idea.”

Sylvain whimpered low in his throat as he took in the sight before him. He'd never known Felix to be this bold and for a moment, Dimitri's ugly words ran through his mind: I bet he's a good little whore after a week. Instead of anger, he felt a surge of pride--this display meant Felix was accepting himself...and that he cared more about Sylvain than the fact that they were not alone.

"I am," he managed to respond, voice remarkably steady given the circumstances. He became dimly aware of Ignatz's hands lingering on his back, smoothing over ripples of taut muscle.

The artist took a moment to change his gloves, needles, and ink before situating himself next to Felix. 

"Stretch out a little," Ignatz said, his voice slightly strained. He reached out to freehand the sigil across Felix's hip, just to the left of the deep Adonis line leading tantalizingly inward. He cleared his throat once, twice, and then began to draw.

Upon Ignatz’s directive, Felix arched his back, stretching back the skin for the artist’s sake. He looked down at the man with an honest gaze, “Stretch me out like you want. Whatever you need to do,” he nodded at the man encouragingly.

Turning his attention back to Sylvain, he offered a small smile that came easily with his fiancé. “Stand up for me and show me, why don’t you?”



This time, Ignatz gulped audibly and smoothed a gentle hand across Felix's abdomen, tugging his pants lower until the crease of his thigh was exposed above the fabric. He wasn't sure whether or not the cadet was wearing underwear, and he both did and did not want to find out. After a brief internal struggle, the green-haired man decided on "not," given that Sylvain was in the room, and...turning around to display his back proudly. The heady mix of pride and desire was too much to bear, so he focused his attention on Felix's hip, trying to focus in on the expanse of skin and not which body part he was currently tattooing.

Sylvain crossed his arms in front of him to better show off the work, casting a coy glance at Felix over his shoulder. Then he turned fully around and moved closer to take Felix's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze just as the needle made first contact.

Felix eyed Ignatz and raised a brow at the sound that was emitted. Before he could ask about the choked off noise, Sylvain began to display his newest addition as requested. As Felix drank in the goddamn sight that was Sylvain, he began to wonder why he had never gotten a tattoo before. His body was a fucking marvel and when he flexed his arms together, his back muscles coiled and bulged so perfectly.

Unabashed, Felix licked his lips, reaching out to take the hand that was offered. 

“It looks so fucking good on you.” 

Felix was distracted wanting to rake his nails across his shoulders and add more to his back when the needle first hit his skin.

His core immediately tensed up as he willed himself to remain still. His hand, however, tightened painfully around Sylvain’s as he grit his teeth, hissing an exhalation through his teeth.

Ignatz placed a soothing hand on Felix's lower abdomen, applying skillful counterpressure. While most thought the diminutive artist was straightlaced and uptight, he was sporting an impressive collection of ink himself and remembered the pain of his first tattoo well.

"Relax," he murmured softly, focusing intently on the path of the needle. "Yours is smaller than Sylvain's. We'll be done soon."

Sylvain lifted Felix's hand to his lips and placed three delicate kisses along his knuckles, gaze fixed on the tattoo as he watched it come to life. He caught Felix's eye and gave him a very pointed look, then sank his teeth into his lip.

A sigh escaped Felix’s lips from the calming, firm pressure of Ignatz’s hand as well as his soothing tone. Coupled with the nearly tandem triplet kisses from Sylvain and that look, Felix’s eyes fluttered as he sank further into the chair.

When Sylvain looked at him like that, it was only natural that Felix went weak. But when paired with another steady hand and the kiss of constant pinpricks, everything was elevated. He let a breathy exhale go, looking to the green-haired man gratefully, then to his fiery red head who never failed to at once both calm and light his passions.

With one hand’s grip crushing into the seat cushion and the other in Sylvain’s hand, Felix extended his fingers, brushing his sculpted jawline and silently returning his look with one of his own, eyes hazy and lust-filled.

Sylvain made a quiet, indistinct sound of surprise at Felix's expression, caught somewhere between amused and extremely turned on that even in spite of the pain, Felix was still more than capable of making effective "fuck me" eyes at him. 

"It'll be over soon, Fe," he murmured. His gaze slid to the waistband of his fiancé's pants, now pushed perilously, enticingly low. Recognizing that this was going nowhere good, and fast, he addressed Ignatz instead. "Isn't he the perfect canvas?"

To his credit, the artist barely flinched, though his breaths grew incrementally shallower. When he finished and began slathering ointment across the new tattoo, his fingertips trembled and he made a point of not looking at either man. 

"No charge," he said weakly. "Hero's discount."

The tattoo artist’s words, however shaky, shook Felix from the haze of his stupor. 

“What? We can’t accept that.”

Sitting up gingerly, Felix situated himself quickly, fastening his belt tighter around the lower part of his hips, ensuring his wrap wasn’t caught in a binding. “We can’t accept that,” he repeated, with more intent now that he had escaped that interesting thrall.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he fished out his wallet and took the cash inside. Holding out his hand to Sylvain, he spoke urgently, “What cash do you have? Add it to mine. The least we can do is give him a big tip.”

Felix did have enough sense to catch what it was he had said, but remained resolute with his hand extended looking expectantly at Sylvain while his cheeks bloomed red.

Sylvain choked on a chuckle, somehow managing to rein himself in for Ignatz's sake; he'd never thought of a human as actually being capable of turning beet-red, and yet here the man was, looking like he was about to pass out from the sudden rush of blood to his face. He reached for his wallet and grabbed some bills at random, tucking them into the artist's hip pocket with a cheeky wink.

"Thanks, Ignatz," he said nonchalantly, grabbing his shirt in one hand and slinging his free arm around Felix. "Impeccable work--maybe I'll take a page out of my fiancé's book and come back to get my hips done at some point."

Felix looked on with pride and approval as Sylvain anted up and slung his arm around his shoulders. Taking Ignatz’s hand in his own, he clamped his own cash in the man’s hand. 

“Thank you for everything. You did beautiful work.” 

That Felix was thanking him as well for the calm and soothing pretense he so direly needed went unsaid, but hopefully the man would glean that from his earnest look and hefty tip.

Wrapping his arm around Sylvain’s lower back, Felix turned them, walking out of the shop. He looked over at Sylvain with a smirk, tapping his fingers on his bare side. 

“So, you’re just going to walk around like that, huh?”

"Well, sure, why not?" Sylvain grinned down at Felix, tightening his grip around his shoulders. "Do you have any objections to showing off your future husband a little? Maybe make a few people jealous?"

In the absence of a clear destination, Sylvain's feet always led him to the hangar bay and this was no exception. The clanging chaos, the scent of engine oil, the hiss of hydraulics...they all felt like home to him. He leaned against the railing at the top of the stairs and looked out over the orderly rows of machines and cadets milling around, feeling a painful little twinge at the vacant bay Adder had once occupied.

Chapter 56: Scraps and Secrets

Summary:

“Sylvain,” he nearly whimpered. “I was ready to die then and there.”

The words that had caused him so much guilt and grief slipped out easily. His tears flowed fast, freely, and steadily down his face. “I knew it would hurt you, but you’d be okay and you could be fine after a little and…and…I didn’t mean to drag it out.”

Chapter Text

Free hand going up to Sylvain’s hand slung around his shoulder, Felix grabbed onto his fingers. He shrugged casually.

“People don’t need to see you without a shirt to be jealous.” 

Felix made no comment on the juxtaposition of his casual comment versus his entangling grasp.

Their feet led to the hangar, where they stood on the observation deck. Felix released his hold on Sylvain as he went forward, stalling a moment to watch his fiancé. There was something always so innate and almost reverent about the way Sylvain comported himself with the machinery. He could act as cavalier as he wanted in nearly every facet of his life, but when it came to this, the incessant clangs, the deafening booms, and the general cacophony of man and machines working in concert, it was as if he was at peace.

Felix stood back a moment before filing in close. Leaning over the railing, their elbows barely touched. Felix looked forward, eyes trained on the empty jaeger slot. 

“What’s on your mind? Right now at this very second.”

Sylvain unconsciously shifted closer to his partner to close the gap between them and creep his fingers up Felix's arm before responding. 

"Lots of things," he said after a moment. "How terrified I was the first time I was ever in a jaeger. The power. The respect. Feeling protected, but knowing that could turn on a dime. And...I miss Adder." 

His voice grew soft and wistful as he continued to survey the room.

When Sylvain closed the space, Felix leaned into his touch instantly. He looked out, following the taller man’s gaze out around the floor.

Felix nodded, listening intently, though his stomach dropped at the mention of Adder. He looked down at the crimson band, now nearly singeing his hand. It had been so long and Felix was more than preoccupied with Sylvain…but he was unaware of what had become of Adder and he felt ashamed, but he was scared to find out. Anything that happened to her was squarely due to his own actions.

“I’m sorry. I know you miss her.” When he next spoke, Felix still hadn’t met Sylvain’s eyes and his voice was uncharacteristically small. “What happened to Adder?”

Sylvain's heart twisted painfully enough that for a moment, he thought he might be having a heart attack. Felix's sly, shy smile in Adder's cockpit and his question about his pulse. He took a deep breath and looked down at Felix with sympathetic eyes.

"I don't know, Fe. She got banged up pretty bad during that fight with Fulcrum. Before they took her away, I snuck in here and got some scraps for our rings." 

What he thought but didn't add was, I wanted to say goodbye.

Oh.

It was a dumbass answer to an even shittier question he somehow already knew the answer to-even before he saw Sylvain tense up and before he turned that terribly sympathetic gaze towards him. Like the coward that he was and the weakling that he remained, Felix shrunk in on himself.

He turned away from Sylvain looking back over the staffers that milled around on the floor as the shift bell began to ring. Felix wanted to say something hopeful and optimistic, but in the moment, he couldn’t muster much of anything helpful. He had taken away the one place that had been Sylvain’s refuge…at one time, it had also been his own. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

The instant he saw Felix begin to curl in on himself, Sylvain was upon him, engulfing him completely and curling his own body over his fiancé's as if to shelter him from the awful reality. He petted his hair and made little comforting sounds as he simply held him as the news sank in.

"If it's any consolation, I think they saved Mia," he murmured. "And you shouldn't be sorry. She helped us save you, and I can't tell you how much I'd rather have you than a machine." His vision was blurring and his voice was heavy with unshed tears, not for the jaeger but for how close he'd come to losing the one person he'd ever truly cared about.

When Sylvain comforted him, Felix wanted to push away. He was the cause of this initial anguish and not he was exacerbating it and making out like he, for some reason, was the victim. It filled him with disgust but he welcomed Sylvain’s movements and touch openly and without reservation.

Thought he wasn’t keen on mentioning it, it did serve as a sort of consolation that they saved Mia. She was instrumental in all they did and was the only one in the three never to fuck up and to be fair, save them both when the other wasn’t enough.

But when Sylvain continued, his voice shifted. Felix looked up at him as he choked back emotions he could see right on the precipice. Felix moved to return the embrace, a meeting of the minds about the topic they had yet to broach with each other. 

“You almost didn’t have either,” he said softly against Sylvain’s bare skin. “I’m sorry I put you through that.” Felix looked up, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. “I thought I could save you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Sylvain leaned in and gently kissed Felix's damp cheek, lips working against his skin in a thousand unspoken I love you s. His arms tightened around the smaller man and he sighed wistfully.

"It's not your fault. It's no one's fault," he whispered, tilting his head ever-so-slightly to capture Felix's lips in a gentle kiss. He couldn't allow himself to think of all the horrible possibilities, not when he had Felix here with him in the flesh, safe and sound.

The tenderness in which Sylvain pressed his soft lips against Felix’s damp skin was a beyond welcomed sensation. The guilt that wracked him was nearly palpable but damned if he didn’t lean that much further into Sylvain’s motions.

Felix pressed back against his lips firmly. 

“Sylvain,” he nearly whimpered. “I was ready to die then and there.” 

The words that had caused him so much guilt and grief slipped out easily. His tears flowed fast, freely, and steadily down his face. “I knew it would hurt you, but you’d be okay and you could be fine after a little and…and…I didn’t mean to drag it out.”

As he confessed in blubbery, watery tones, somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that he had been prepared to take these truths to the grave with him. Yet here he was, spilling his guts, crying on the man he loved who had once shared the same sentiment. 

“I don’t know how to stop hurting you.”

"I'd never be fine, Felix." Now Sylvain was crying himself, their bittersweet tears converging between them. "You're the only one I've ever loved. Or even come close to loving. And you've never hurt me. Never," he added fiercely. "I don't see how you ever could. And there is nothing in this world that could change the way I feel about you. Even death."

He began to rub slow, steady circles on Felix's back, letting him release the torrent of emotions Sylvain had had the luxury of processing during the endless, agonizing weeks Felix lay still and silent in the hospital bed. He supposed that in a way, this was his own ordeal's way of coming full circle: comforting Felix as he had comforted himself. The idea that he could bring even the slightest bit of comfort to anyone made his heart swell, and he realized for the first time in his life that it was because he had something to protect.

His words, the heartfelt and raw emotions…they were all so much. His tears mixed with his now runny nose and the tears that weren’t even his were there and present. Though he was uncomfortably aware of all this, he held on tighter. His sobs became deeper, shuddering in his chest as he gripped at Sylvain’s broad shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he intoned, trembling. He repeated his apology time and time again as he pulled himself up closer to his tall partner.

The apologies damn near broke Sylvain and he gathered Felix up in a crushing grip, lifting him up to his height. All the while, he responded to the apologies with I'm here and I love you and You don't need to be sorry for anything, ever. All he could do was hold Felix as he wept openly, dampening his shirt. That he could offer this to another person, even meager support, meant the world to him and he sent out a silent 'fuck you' to the universe and Dimitri. He could do better. He would do better--if not for himself, then for Felix.

"You're okay," he breathed. "I've got you. Let it out."

His feet left the metal grated ledge as he was lifted easily. In Sylvain’s strong, firm grasp, Felix felt secure, supported, and safe. With Sylvain he felt loved and for the first time in his life, he felt as though he belonged.

Legs hanging loose, Felix held on with a strong grip, doing exactly what Sylvain said and was allowing him to do. Losing all inhibition, Felix cried openly against him, his safe place, his voice trailing into small whines of overexertion from this rush of emotions he hadn’t realized were all kept inside.

With careful maneuvering, Sylvain was able to scoop Felix bridal-style into his arms and made his way down the stairs, wincing with every creak of the metal grating beneath his feet. He silently made his way to where Adder once stood and lowered himself to the ground on the loading platform's landing, Felix still securely in his arms.

"Maybe we can visit Mia," he soothed. "I'm sure I can find out where they put her. And who knows? Maybe Adder's not totally done for. She's a tough old broad. Mark-II, remember? Vintage. A classy woman of a certain age. She's not gonna give up that easy, Fe."

Curling into his grasp, Felix held on tightly as Sylvain walked them down the stairs to what served as the ground floor. As he was completely able, perhaps it would’ve been smarter to walk himself, but he was too far gone. He wasn’t about to remove Sylvain’s presence from his own for even a moment.

Once they were near the machines, Felix answered with a hopeful lilt, “You think? They couldn’t have put her into another hull. She’s from a Mark-II and isn’t compatible with any of the new rigs on base. And they wouldn’t decommission her so quickly without archiving her logged data.”

"That's true," Sylvain mused aloud, a feeble spark of hope alighting inside him. "Do you know where they might be keeping her? I'm sure I have enough social capital to bust us in anywhere. And I wouldn't mind seeing her again. I, uh...don't remember a ton of what happened, to be honest. Just that thing."

He shuddered lightly at the memory and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he captured Felix's gaze and gave him a small but brilliant smile. After placing a series of feathery kisses to Felix's lips, as well as the rest of his face, Sylvain finally set him down on solid ground once more.

Chapter 57: M.I.A.

Summary:

The data center. Unlocked and unguarded.

Truly the world’s finest and a perfect example of the best of the best… But really, who the hell had time for proper information security protocols and audits when there were literal monsters hellbent on destruction rising from the depths?

Chapter Text

Felix held on tighter through the fluttering kisses as his feet once again touched solid ground. Looking around, he furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

“What about,” he began, walking over to one of the control boards, “maybe she’s just moved over to one of the older servers?” 

Felix entered his login credentials, gaining access to his personal account. It was a long shot, but there was no other alternative for them to find out any information other than attempting to piecemeal it together to form some working theory.

Sylvain slid up behind Felix at the terminal and wrapped his arms around his waist, unwilling to let go even for a second. Resting his chin on his shoulder, he focused intently on the screen in front of them. He'd never seen Felix's personal account before--hell, he'd barely even looked at his own--and it felt weirdly intimate to see it laid bare before him. He decided he liked it and planted a single kiss to the sharp edge of Felix's jawline.

"I hope she's in there. We owe her, at the very least, a very sincere apology," he said, alluding to the incident that had gotten them reassigned. "But between you and me? I'm not sorry at all."

While he navigated through the screens, Felix’s free hand went to cup Sylvain’s face as he hooked it over his shoulder. He spoke in a hushed tone as he frowned at the screen, opening the system capacity to get a better glimpse at some shred of evidence

“You and I don’t have access to the data itself,” he said furrowing his brows as he clicked. “But what we can at least see is storage management. We might not be able to access it but…if we can see something big was uploaded to a historical archival server around the date of the kaiju sighting…” 

He paused, clicking into the storage space… All they needed was to see that something massive had been added. Terabytes upon terabytes upon terabytes of space. If that were the case and around a few weeks back, then they could reasonably conclude that the date corresponds with their accident and that would mean…

“Sylvain! Look!”

On the screen, sure as anything, in the capacity management settings, a huge data set was added in their cloud-based storage just three weeks ago. It had to be her. Felix turned awkwardly and indelicately in Sylvain’s grasp. “It’s gotta be, they have her!”

Sylvain cast in the response and shifted his grip enough for Felix to move or easily within his arms. Keeping his gaze on the screen, wide eyes and wide mouthed, he tried frantically to process the words he was seeing.

"They have her, Fe," he whispered, giving voice to his most perilous hopes, the ones that had haunted him late at night ever since Fulcrum. "Do you know where she might be? I don't think I've ever slept with anyone in the data storage and management department, unfortunately." He smiled apologetically down at Felix.

Felix shook his head, looking past the wide expanse of Sylvain’s chest, half as an answer to his question, the other half out of sheer disbelief from his hairbrained scheme coming to some sort of fruition.

“No,” he answered, finally having his voice catch up to his thoughts. “Or, not exactly. She’s based where you nor I have access. Segmentation and shit.” He shook his head, deciding to be angry about not having IT credentials at this present moment in time. “But she’s there and present in the overarching storage.”

He offered a small smile, cupping Sylvain’s face, “But we have her. We didn’t lose our Mia.”

Sylvain melted into the gentle touch, eyes sliding to half-lids. Felix's words brought him immeasurable comfort, and while he had no idea how to convey that sentiment to the man, he did know that he could take action. Releasing his grip on Felix to grab his hand, he began to lead him out of the hangar at a brisk pace.

"We have to find her, Fe," he said, words blowing out in a torrent as they traversed the winding corridors. Somehow, through muscle memory, Sylvain's feet led them to the door outside the data management section of the building. He burst in without knocking, scanning the vast room full of servers for any sign of human life.

Felix barely had time to log out of his account before he was being dragged by the hand out the door, down hallways into… ah.

The data center. Unlocked and unguarded.

Truly the world’s finest and a perfect example of the best of the best… But really, who the hell had time for proper information security protocols and audits when there were literal monsters hellbent on destruction rising from the depths? Apparently not them and as it should be noted, they had never experienced a dire breach…assuming this wasn’t the first time jaeger pilots had gone searching for information.

As they were already in, Felix followed his limited knowledge of their data infrastructure, walking rows and rows back, passing server upon server and the going one seven different temperature control units as he finally led them to where he thought Mia might be housed.

Turning from the digital monitor, he looked at Sylvain. “I don’t trust myself to try and get her up and active as she was in Adder, but with a command prompt, if she’s here, we should be able to communicate through a text interface.”

Felix brought up the screen, then began to type.

`C:\ Run JAI Codename ‘Mia’`

`\Enter`

A moment passed where the cursor blinked, ready for further input…before another line appeared.

`Mia located. Connection engaged.`

Felix tapped on the screen rapidly, dull thunk s sounding in a quick staccato. “It’s her!” He grabbed Sylvain tight, shaking him slightly. “Type something!”

Sylvain bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet as he watched Felix type, making a small triumphant sound when he saw the words he'd been hoping for. He paused for a moment as he thought about what to write, how to address the AI that had saved their asses so many times (and witnessed things that Sylvain hoped hadn't scarred her...or rather, fucked up the programming). He gave Felix a ferocious peck on the cheek, then released him to move to the keyboard.

`Hello, gorgeous.`

`\Enter`

He turned and looked at Felix with a wink, wondering if those were the magic words that would awaken their fallen comrade.

`As I remain formless, that is still meaningless. It is good to communicate again.`

At the side, Felix hadn’t realized how tightly his arms were wrapped around his chest, holding his elbows tightly. It wasn’t until more text appeared on the screen that the pixels became more pixelated and…well, blurry. The letters, the screen, everything became blurry as tears welled in his eyes. But this time, they were of relief and happiness at seeing their miracle worker of a copilot somehow in action again.

Felix sealed his lips together in a watery grin as he stood back, letting Sylvain have this much needed reunion.

Sylvain's eyes shot wide with surprise and he barked a shocked laugh. He'd never seen Mia, or an AI for that matter, refer to itself in the first person. It was alarming and exhilarating and he had no idea what to do with any of it. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he tapped out another message.

`How've you been? We missed you.`

He turned back to his partner with shining eyes.

"Anything you wanna say to her, Fe?"

`I am online. I have been as I have been. Although no longer assisting piloting JaegerM-2: 0628; Cosmic Adder.`

Felix’s jaw would likely be hanging on the floor by now were his hand not slapped up tightly against his mouth. He was more than impressed with the capabilities he honestly didn’t know Mia had in her…it was a little frightening and he suddenly felt actually bad about ignoring her blaring noises when they…well, the term sullied didn’t seem far off.

But as it stood, it seemed Sylvain was reestablishing a connection that he very much needed and Felix hoped that maybe it was mutual in some form?

These nebulous questions and more were interrupted (mercifully) by Sylvain’s voice. “Uh,” he stuttered. “Glad to see she’s not decommissioned.” Adding quietly, “I’ve missed her left side.”

Sensing Felix's apprehension, Sylvain offered him a soothing smile and began to type again, speaking each word aloud.

`Felix misses your left side. But I miss ALL of you. ;)`

He snorted at himself and shook his head, then continued typing. 

`Glad to see you again. Thanks for keeping us safe.`

When he was finished, he wrapped his right arm around Felix to draw him close. Sylvain felt like one gigantic exposed nerve, thoughts buzzing through his head. "Do you think she remembers, Fe?" And the unspoken follow-up question was, Do we want to know?

When Sylvain drew him into his side, Felix was already red from hearing what the man had typed. For no other good reason, Felix was scarlet from the typed message, shooting him a pointed glance. He relented after the comforting pulse, shrugging his shoulders. 

"I don't know. I don't know enough about Mia or her programming to say anything.

The two watched the screen for a moment longer before a new line of text formed as the machine's output.

`No command was found for: ';)'.`

Felix let out a bark of laughter.

`Additionally, I have no sides. I only have two pilots. Goodbye.`

It was possible the man was reading into it, but since they had gotten reassigned, Adder did have three pilots...was Mia referring to the number of occupants? If not, was she referring to Sylvain and Dorothea? Or...could she have even been referring to them?

The sound of the system logging and powering down broke his train of thought and had Felix answering reflexively. 

"I don't know." 

He did, however, hope she might remember them...

Sylvain felt his cheeks warm and joined Felix's laughter until he was wheezing lightly. "Well, I can't say I've ever been shut down quite that hard before. And by a machine!" 

He felt a bit disappointed by the dismissal--even though he knew it was pathetic, he'd always loved sneaking in to chatter at the AI, to tell it all about his day when he had no one else who would listen. And there was so much more he wanted to share, even if it meant that his thoughts would receive automated responses and be recorded in 0s and 1s.

"I told you she wasn't gone for good," he added in a hushed, reverent tone as he pressed his lips to Felix's temple.

"You were right." He glanced up at the man, giving him a hopeful look. "So," he said, "How happy are you to have talked to her?" Seeing the man interact with the program behind their machine and the machine itself was beyond a welcomed sight.

"Beyond happy, Fe. It was touch and go for a while...a long while. But we all made it out, and we're okay now. We're going to be okay." Sylvain gripped Felix tighter to his chest, adrenaline still coursing through his body. "What was it like for you?"

“A little less like a third wheel than I was expecting,” Felix answered dryly with absolutely no heat in his voice. “But no. It was a relief to see Mia is still here.” He squeezed at Sylvain, grounding himself in the moment. “Like us.”

Sylvain made a soft sound of agreement and looked down into Felix's eyes, holding off the urge to blink until his own began to sting. It reminded him too much of the first two weeks after Fulcrum, when he spent all of his time--waking or not--by Felix's hospital bed, staring at him and willing him to wake up.

"Like us," he repeated. "So...what are we going to do with the rest of our lives?"

Felix cast his eyes downwards, thinking silently for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t know.” His thumb grazed over the wrapping at his hip. A sudden thought came to mind that hadn’t occurred to him before. What if…what if they needed Mia? What if they needed the space and the middle between them to work? Piloting Adder, they were beyond successful. But on their own…they had spectacular successes and absolute failures. What if she was the only thing keeping them together?

“I don’t know,” he repeated lower, suddenly feeling a creeping sensation of dread through his body.

A familiar icy dread began to nip at Sylvain's bones as he watched Felix seem to fade into himself. He drew back from the terminal, pulling his partner with him, and tilted his head up with a gentle hand. 

"Hey. Look at me. We can do anything we want, you hear me? We're still alive. We can go throw more shit at those stupid papers, or harass Linhardt so he doesn't pass out on the stove again, or I can find new ways to make you scream...whatever you want, Fe. I mean it."

As always, when pulled and walked back, Felix moved easily with Sylvain. Similarly, when his chin was lifted, he complied, though his eyes were still lowered as he met Sylvain’s imploring gaze out from under his dark lashes. There was a reticence about him even as Sylvain spoke animatedly.

Felix nodded. It was difficult to disagree with the man when he spoke so passionately, but there was still a portion of him that simply couldn’t believe it. He could not get himself out of his own head and that’s when doubts clouded his thoughts as did his eyes as he looked past Sylvain, focusing on some distant and unseen point.

Sylvain abruptly stopped talking and froze in place, feeling a whole new layer of anxiety settle over him like a thick blanket. He had no idea what had happened, what switch had been flipped inside Felix's brain to take him so far away, but he didn't like it. He was right in front of him but he wasn't there.

"Felix," he said softly, leaning close to speak directly into his ear. "What's wrong? Talk to me. Come back to me. Please."

The warm puffs of air against his ear sent a chill rolling through his body as his lashes fluttered. Slightly more alert and present, Felix cupped Sylvain’s cheek, pressing him back slightly while patting him in assurance that he was there.

Needing the space he had facilitated, he spoke softly in the space between their bodies. “I don’t know what there is beyond this. It’s been my goal to be a pilot for as long as I can remember.” His hand slipped down, pressing lightly against Sylvain’s chest. “I’ve never planned for something else. If I can’t do this anymore, I’m useless. And if I can’t be of help to you there,” he looked up pleadingly, “what if I can’t be of use to you here?”

"Hey, hey," Sylvain soothed. "There's so much more we can do. And I don't care if we're not copilots anymore. I've got you, all of you, and that's so much better. But listen, they're gonna fix Adder up, and Mia will be back online in no time. You'll see. We just need to find a way to keep ourselves busy in the meantime."

Without even realizing it, Sylvain had begun speaking to himself. He was far too familiar with the road Felix was starting to go down and the reassurance he'd offered Felix during their very first mission together rang through the endless twisted corridors of his mind: I go to dark places so often, I have frequent flier miles. He raised his other hand to cup Felix's face, looking for any possible way in.

Sylvain’s words were as much of a balm as his soothing hands were. More than anything, he wanted to believe the truth behind his words. Felix exhaled softly within his large grasp as he let his head sag for a moment.

“And if you get bored while we’re trying to keep ourselves busy?” Felix looked up, offering Sylvain a neutral face. There was no malice nor jealousy present in his look, just concern and a desire for understanding. “Is that where you think hall passes are going to come in?”

Though there was no heat behind Felix's words, Sylvain still fought hard to suppress a wince at the memory. Though he succeeded, a small, pained whimper escaped, along with the rest of his breath. He extended his fingers to tangle them in Felix's hair and pulled him close to press their secret code of kisses to his forehead.

"I don't expect you to forget that," he whispered, "but I want you to know that I regret it more than anything in my life and it will never, ever happen again."

Felix’s hands went readily, naturally around Sylvain as he was pulled in. As always, the familiar constellation of kisses served as Felix’s guide, closing his eyes with the gentle presses to his forehead. Rather than hearing the low whisper, Felix felt his words. The low, yet strained tone as he spoke…it was something altogether heart-wrenching and powerful.

Remaining close, Felix returned the hushed tone. “I want you to be happy. If something or someone else,” he paused for a moment, adding with emphasis, “in addition to me would do that, that is something I’m willing to do.” 

Felix truthfully had surprised himself with voicing the admission. It had been some time, but Dorothea’s words had resonated with him and if this was the language he spoke, Felix wouldn’t begrudge him. But it would have to be on terms that allowed Felix to still feel the truth of the words and promises Sylvain had made.

He pulled back from under Sylvain’s chin, regarding him evenly, “But not out of anger. Never again.”

"Felix, I..."

In that moment, words utterly failed Sylvain. His grip on Felix remained firm as ever, but there was something uncertain in his gaze as he looked down at the man. The way Felix was speaking, the way he insisted on continuing the discussion made Sylvain wonder...did he actually want this?

"If it's something you want," he finally said, voice hushed. "But I don't need it."

For any uncertainty that Sylvain might’ve shown in that moment, Felix did not mirror it. He looked resolute, meeting Sylvain’s eyes. “You need me. And I need you. Anything else is a want. And,” he paused, “I think I understand that now.”

Trailing his hands together at his lower back, he pulled them both to where they were pressed snugly hip to hip. “I intend to have many more firsts with you and this is something that might be good for us.”

"Good for us, how?" Sylvain asked, still hesitant but now intrigued. It felt as though he were dancing on a minefield, and he was a terrible dancer. But if this was something Felix wanted, something that truly could bring them closer together, Sylvain couldn't bring himself to deny him.

"Who did you have in mind?" He leaned into Felix, pressing their chests together firmly.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Felix answered honestly. And from his limited experiences, he truly wasn’t. But if they worked well with a third in piloting, perhaps that was something to look for elsewhere. But rather than splitting and going by themselves, if they were a unit and invited another…that was something else entirely. And with Sylvain? He was willing to try.

Felix met Sylvain’s gaze unflinchingly.

“Those who know us best, you know who. Our copilots.”

Chapter 58: Threesome in Binary

Summary:

“For a while now,” he purred, “I’ve thought of how you must’ve looked with all your partners.” (That it had been since the sex resume incident went unsaid.) Felix’s eyes glazed over as he recalled the vivid thoughts he had of his fiancé with previous partners. “I want to see you with other people and see how it differs from how you are with me.”

Chapter Text

At the suggestion, Sylvain made a strangled noise at the back of his throat. 

"Both of them," he repeated incredulously. "You want both of them."

He was shocked to find that he didn't exactly hate the idea, though he was curious about who first came to mind when Felix proposed the arrangement.

"Dimitri or Dorothea?" he asked, his tone nonchalant. While he wasn't thrilled at the idea of watching his fiancé get dicked down by a man for whom he shared intense mutual hatred, he was willing to put aside the momentary discomfort if it meant long-term gains. "I think you'd look good with either, you know."

Felix nodded up at Sylvain to his repeated statements. And a want it was. There was no need in Felix’s mind or body for either individual. Yet, was there a curiosity? Was there a want to experience more with Sylvain? Absolutely.

Without hesitation, he answered, “Dorothea.”

From every instance of speaking with the woman, Felix had felt an odd emotion that he hadn’t been able to place until very recently. It had been familiarity. The woman and Sylvain were incredibly similar, both in thought process and character. Felix had never sensed that more than when she had approached him, bridging the gap of his own understanding of what had transpired.

Beyond the personal aspect, there was, of course, a physical aspect. Of which, Dorothea lacked for nothing. But this was all conjecture until Sylvain chose and Felix would respect his final decision.

“Only if you want to.” He looked up at Sylvain, still holding tightly. “I have no desire for anyone for myself but you.” He punctuated the words with a pointed tone and look conveying this was nothing to joke about. “But if you wanted to introduce them into our bed, I would be willing.”

Sylvain's brows shot up in surprise at the name, which was most definitely not the one he was expecting to hear. After taking a millisecond to process (and maybe indulging in a brief fantasy along the way), he allowed a wolfish grin to spread across his lips, culminating in a seductive, borderline predatory flash of teeth.

"Oh, excellent choice," Sylvain purred. "Objectively speaking, not at all a bad introduction to women. I know she'll be good to you, Fe," he added, expression softening. "She'll take good care of you."

“I know and I don’t doubt that,” he answered, feeling more at ease with the look that curled Sylvain’s lips. Felix relished the sharp look that crossed his face upon hearing his answer, but extended to press a kiss on his lips when his features rounded, softening for him.

“She’ll be good to have together,” Felix paused for a moment, attempting to suppress the small grin at his lips. “But after this heals.” He raised the bottom of his sweatshirt, the wrap just barely peeking out. “Only after that.”

This time, Sylvain let out a faint groan at Felix's words and the heavy suggestion behind them. "Don't tease me like that," he whined, pouting his bottom lip out in the way he knew Felix liked. "I hope it heals quickly, but while we wait...there's plenty of time to plan."

The sly, lopsided smile returned and he slid his hands down to gently hold Felix's hips just above the bandage, tracing little circles against his skin.

"Also, it sounds like you've given this a lot of thought. Care to share with the class?"

Felix cocked his head at the delicious groan, asking coyly, “Tease you like what?” That possibly could have been more devastating for Sylvain had Felix not let out a small whimper in the back of his throat at his talented touch.

As Sylvain’s hands went to his hips, Felix also reached up and thumbed at his full, plump lip, speaking lowly, “We could plan and I could tell you anything else if you weren’t so hellbent on distracting me.”

The hold at Sylvain’s waist tightened in his firm grasp.

Sylvain had never been a particular vocal partner in the past, beyond trite encouragements given to one-night-stands during the act itself. The sheer range of sounds Felix was able to evoke astounded him every time, and this was no exception; he wasn't quite sure what to call the sound he made in response to the coy words, but it didn't matter. He was too preoccupied with studying Felix's lips and nibbling at his own, resisting the temptation to kiss him in favor of hearing what he had to say next.

"I'm listening," he breathed, stilling the motion of his hands but not loosening his grasp.

“Good man,” he breathed in the rarified air between the two. Sylvain had tensed up, stilling his motions, yet the intensity and the hunger behind his stare only raised the headiness Felix felt in the moment.

His hand dropped to Sylvain’s chest, rubbing his nipple through his shirt. “For a while now,” he purred, “I’ve thought of how you must’ve looked with all your partners.” (That it had been since the sex resume incident went unsaid.) Felix’s eyes glazed over as he recalled the vivid thoughts he had of his fiancé with previous partners. “I want to see you with other people and see how it differs from how you are with me.”

This time, Sylvain was easily able to place the sound he made, both in response to Felix's tone and the hand currently toying with his nipple in exactly the way he liked: a long, low, drawn-out moan emanating from deep within his chest. He instinctively arched forward into the touch, looking down through his lashes to maintain their heated eye contact. 

"And what do you suppose it would look like?" he asked with an innocent flutter of his lashes. "And with who? Dorothea?" A pause, fraught with possibilities. "Dimitri?"

Felix trapped his bottom lip between his teeth in response to Sylvain’s wanton moan, not removing or stopping his now practiced motions. He leaned in closer as Sylvain arched back, whispering, “I’m not too sure. I have a good imagination, but seeing it would be best, don’t you agree?” Upon his last word, Felix laved his tongue against his neck, sucking into his soft skin.

Releasing his pull, Felix spoke in a breathy tone, “How would you want to see me with Dorothea?” He paused for a moment, kissing sweetly upon the mark he had just made. “What about you and Dimitri?”

"I'm not sure," Sylvain breathed, his mind reeling with all the possibilities. "I'd love to see you fuck her, but I also want to see you held down and writhing with pleasure." He thrust his hips forward lightly with another soft groan, closing his eyes briefly as he pictured the scene. "But...what would you want to do with her?" It made him beyond crazy to think that they'd both have had her by the end...perhaps they could compare notes, incorporate the memory into their own future encounters, Sylvain thought wickedly.

But Felix's next statement gave him pause. "Me and Dimitri?" he asked, reflecting on the way the blonde's abs had glistened that day in the shower, the way his high cheekbones had flushed in anger. "I mean, he's...well, you know what he looks like. But how do you know he won't kill me? Like, actually choke me out? I'm into choking, you know."

Stepping forward with a fluid press, Felix slid his thigh between Sylvain’s legs, pressing forward as he kept his fingers at work.

He let out a small breath of laughter as Sylvain’s words hit him. “I wouldn’t mind being held down by her.” His cheeks reddened as he continued. “Like when I’ve held and tasted you, I’d want to do that to her.” Not yet too far gone to expand upon or even let that thought hang, Felix turned his attention back to his neck, sucking hard, ensuring a low mark on his collarbone and the next thing that Sylvain said.

“I do know what he looks like,” said Felix in between loud, breathy smacks of his tongue and lips. “I know he wouldn’t dare harm you. Well,” Felix took the bruised skin in his teeth before biting down, “anymore than what you want.”

He dappled his skin and the colored area with sets of three kisses, soothing the irritated area. His voice became low and somber, “I would never suggest it otherwise. I hope you know that.”

"I know. I trust you," Sylvain breathed, and he meant it. "But...what would you like to see me do to him? I I have no doubt in my mind that he's experienced, but I imagine I have a trick or two up my sleeve that he hasn't seen.

Sylvain rolled his hips experimentally against Felix's thigh. "Do you think he'd let me fuck him? I wonder if he's ever bottomed before." Then, after a brief pause: "Exactly how far did you go with him?"

Felix practically purred as he had an immediate answer, moving his thigh up and against Sylvain’s length, rocking with his movements. “I’d like to see you on his back with a fistful of blonde hair, ripping it back and making him bend and arch.” It was a vision he had conjured and was ready to add to when Sylvain’s question hit his ears.

Leaving a trail of kisses, Felix pulled back, “I told you. We’ve kissed and we almost did more on one single occasion.”

"Oh, I know that," Sylvain responded instantly, as though he hadn't spent more than a few nights thinking about just that. "I'm just wondering how willing he might be to submit to me, given our... history together. You know I would never force him, but...I have to admit, I wouldn't mind seeing him acting like the whore he said you would become."

“The whore that I am,” Felix corrected with a sharp tweak of his nipple, followed by a soft clarification and kiss. Your whore.”

Sylvain drew a sharp breath, now keenly aware of his own arousal and rutting forward shamelessly. He pressed a light kiss to Felix's waiting mouth before continuing. "What else? What did you want to do?"

Felix found himself growing more stiff as Sylvain rutted artlessly against him. He did, however, pause his motions but kept his thigh pressed forward for Sylvain’s own use. He spoke with little affect, simply stating a fact. 

“I wanted him to fuck me.”

"Yeah?" Sylvain was now thoroughly interested, as was his cock. "When? Why didn't he?"

Sylvain leaned down to trail firm kisses along the side of Felix's neck, contemplating all the scenarios in which Dimitri could have possibly turned this specimen of absolute human perfection down. He tightened his hold on Felix's hips to draw him closer, now grinding against him fully.

Felix leaned over, extending and exposing the long column of his neck. Though his breath had become labored and uneven with the pleasure that he was experiencing, he somehow still managed a sigh. This wasn’t a topic he had ever wanted to revisit, partially because of the subject, partially due to his behavior. But here it was, asked by the man he loved and would not deceive.

“It was the day my father and brother were buried.” Felix pressed hard against him, moving his thigh, meeting Sylvain’s movements as he spoke. “We weren’t seeing each other…I wasn’t seeing many people generally, but.” Felix gasped at the strong grip of his hips. “I found him and told him I wanted him to fuck me. And he said no.”

Sylvain took a second to wonder at how Dimitri apparently did have some sense of honor and decency, then slipped a hand down and between Felix's legs.

"You were feeling so many things, and you were looking for anywhere to put them," he breathed against Felix's flushed skin. "What did you feel when he turned you down? What did you do?" His hand grasped lightly at Felix's length, squeezing gently at uneven intervals.

Felix groaned out as Sylvain’s large hand slid down his body, snaking and grasping along his clothes cock. “I was,” he answered easily. The hindsight through the lens of time aided much when it came to self-reflection. It was now that Felix could admit that, no, that wasn’t the appropriate answer. But was it at the time? Was his refusal and denial worth his ire? It was the only thing he could react to.

“I begged, I tore at him and he held me at bay through his own tears. I swung at him blindly and he refused to let me go through the blows.” 

Felix canted his hips up at random in time in Sylvain’s hold. “I left him. I left the ceremony and the territory and then I didn’t look back.”

Sylvain tightened his hold around both Felix's waist and his cock, dropping his voice to a low, confidential town. Now that Mia was apparently sentient, he felt the need to be extra cautious around her.

"And you did not see him again until years later, when you met here," he added matter-of-factly. Sylvain had long since accepted the facts of Felix's history with Dimitri, so none of what his fiancé was currently sharing was a surprise to him. That said, he did feel a peculiar sense of disappointment and loss on his partner's behalf, unhealthy though it was. "But somehow, that stupid Drift exercise we fucked up led to us fucking each other. And more. Weird, right? But I can't begin to tell you how glad I am that it happened."

The whines that came out of Felix’s throat merged together to form broken acknowledgments of Sylvain’s takes. Nothing he said was wrong, nothing from their history leading up to this exact point.

Without warning or telegraphing his actions, Felix grabbed onto Sylvain’s head and tugged him down artlessly. He kissed Sylvain with reckless abandon, whimpering into his mouth, finally pulling away to leave a smattering of kisses against his face, missing his lips altogether in some. Panting, he breathed out, “Someone told me they don’t make mistakes.” He smiled into a watery kiss. “I was meant to be yours.”

Sylvain returned the kiss voraciously, licking deep into Felix's mouth as though it was as essential as breathing. When the other man pulled away to speak, his gaze remained intently focused on plush, swollen lips.

"You were," he agreed, voice trembling with emotion. "And I was meant to be yours. All of me, flaws and all."

Breathing harshly, Felix held Sylvain steady for a moment. His pulse was thrumming in his ears as the whirls of the deafening air conditioning units sounded.

Gathering himself for a moment, he tilted their foreheads together. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you. Flaws and all.” He lifted up, pressing three kisses in a quick staccato. “Not your flaws and not your darkness. Not a single fucking thing.”

Sylvain melted into the gentle flutter of Felix's lips, closing his eyes to focus his attention on the sensation of their hearts beating in tandem. When he opened them, he fixed Felix with a curious, molten gaze and thumbed at his lower lip.

"Though I'm jealous," he began, his voice a sonorous rumble from deep within his chest, "I would love to see the two of you together. See how you react compared to when we're together, I mean," he added coyly, repeating Felix's words.

Felix looked up curiously at the distinct look Sylvain was giving him. His look of curiosity turned to one of confusion.

“You,” he began. “You would love to see Dima and I together?” That his words and tone took him aback was an absolute understatement. “What do you think that would be like? The question asked replaced his concern with some of his curiosity as well as an eagerness that wasn’t present before when he had broached the subject.

"Well, emotionally, I wouldn't love it," Sylvain admitted. "But visually and otherwise? I think it'd be really hot. How would you take him?" The question came out in a resonant purr and he slid his hands down to cup Felix's ass to give a light squeeze. "Maybe you could even take both of us at once. Would you like that, Fe? Being in the middle?"

Sylvain slowed the movements of his hips to a slow grind, up and down and back again in time with his words. Part of him felt insane for being turned on, but the rest was merely insanely turned on by the thought of sharing the man he loved most with the man he hated more than anything in the world.

Felix nodded. Of course he wouldn’t care for it emotionally. He mentally kicked himself for making the mere suggestion…yet as nasty as it made him feel and how terrible he would feel later, the idea sank further and further into his mind.

“Being in the middle,” he repeated blandly, as if not connecting the dots. “I don’t understand what you mean by that with you two.” 

Even though his mind moved slowly with the new input, Felix’s body had beyond acclimated to Sylvain’s own, curling and meeting his slow grinds with his own.

With each word that fell from Felix's lips, the sly, seductive smile spread across Sylvain's own. He quirked a brow at his fiancé and held perfectly still, looking down at him with eyes full of intent.

"What I meant was," he began slowly as he gave Felix's ass a generous squeeze, "you could be on top of one of us while the other fucks your mouth. Or any other combination you can imagine. You're more creative than you give yourself credit for, Felix...what are you thinking of?"

Felix fucking whimpered at Sylvain’s words describing what was apparently just one of the numerous possibilities available to the men, if that were to ever come to pass. He was loath to admit it, but the idea of being taken and handled roughly by both Sylvain and Dima sent an absolute shockwave through his body, electrifying his system.

Pressing his cheek back into the hand that grabbed it, Felix’s pupils grew immensely. 

“That doesn’t sound bad at all.” He watched Sylvain for a moment before posing the question back on him, “If that were the case, what would you prefer?” 

There was far more time for creativity. He wanted and needed this answer now.

"Hmm," Sylvain mused, genuinely giving the question some thought. All the while, he continued to knead and stroke at Felix's cock, intently watching his face for any and all reactions. "You said you wanted to fuck him, so I suppose I could take your mouth. Or, if he was taking you, I could fuck you from behind...what do you think?" He lowered his head to trace the tip of his tongue across Felix's lips before darting away, unable to resist teasing him.

Felix moved more intently against Sylvain’s body and incessant hands, his mind a blur with options and choices. He panted out, “I wouldn’t mind that. Either of them.”

The quick tease of his tongue left Felix wanting in a major way as he momentarily chased it with his own mouth, pouting. “I don’t think he would tease me nearly as much.”

"You're the one teasing me," Sylvain gasped in response. "Telling me all this when you know we can't do any of it yet."  

He dipped his head low to nip at Felix's neck, then murmured, "I want to hear more. How would you want us? What did you want back then? Tell me everything.”

Felix neither confirmed nor denied if he had been the one teasing. In the moment, as he found himself in the middle of eagerness, mild frustration, and overwhelming passion, he was no longer certain.

What he could do, however, was continue to feel and react with Sylvain as they traded breath while he attempted to answer the prompt. It was a tricky answer. At the time, he hadn’t known the exact mechanics and didn’t know exactly what he had been asking for, but he needed something. He needed something to distract himself from the pain. From everything and everyone.

“I wanted him to break me,” he said. Shaking his head, he continued. “I wanted to forget about everything and just focus all my attention elsewhere. I wanted to feel something other than empty. And he refused to do any of it.”

"Oh, Fe,” he breathed, gaze softening from its former feral passion. "I understand. And what do you want from him now?

Sylvain took a moment to gather his thoughts and his breath, looking down into his beautiful, open, vulnerable face and its myriad of emotions. He understood all too well the desire to numb emotional pain with another person's body, and it pained him deeply to know that Felix had been in that same dark place even once.

Turning his head, Felix met Sylvain’s soft gaze as he heard the telltale shift in voice. He reached up, stroking his face gently-a subtle appreciation for the recognition of those specific desires.

“What I want from him,” he began slowly, “is to experience him with you, not out of a sense to escape, but to feel together.” If they were to lay together, it would be from a sense of want, not a chance at escape. And that had to come from them both. Felix nuzzled close to his neck.

Sylvain exhaled shakily at the gentle pressure against his neck and closed his eyes as he listened, hanging on Felix's every word. 

"To feel together," he repeated. "And what makes you think he would agree? He pretty much hates me, and something tells me he wouldn't be a fan of watching us touch each other, period. Like, even holding hands. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to help him make you feel good..." 

It was a particularly tantalizing option and one that he'd given some thought to here and there, especially after their confrontation in the showers.

Felix laved his tongue against the soft, warm skin of Sylvain’s neck. “I know him. I think you know I would be enough to entice the man alone.” As he spoke, his cheeks flared red with embarrassment, whether from the admission or the cockiness that came with it…likely both.

“But,” he continued, reaching down, palming his stiff length through his pants. “I know what the man likes. And this?” He pulsed a squeeze, “with your fire and passion, not to mention skill…he’d be crazy not to.”

Felix pulled back just enough to meet his lidded gaze, “Trust me.”

Sylvain's head lolled back at the slick glide of Felix's tongue along his heated flesh, hips pressing forward instinctively into his grasp. He marveled for a moment at how well Felix knew him, how easily and skillfully he had learned to play his body like an instrument, and was overcome with affection for the man. Looking down at Felix through his lashes, he made a soft purring sound of encouragement.

"So, you would be the bait," he murmured. "Incredibly tantalizing bait." His eyes locked on Felix's mouth and he sank a tooth into his own bottom lip. "I trust you."

Felix hummed in agreement, “Mhm. Let me be the bait, the middle point for you and Dima.” He gave a particularly thorough stroke of Sylvain’s length, “So you both can allow what you want but are afraid to act upon.”

Felix felt more than a little selfish saying it so boldly…but from knowing the two men, he felt confident about his ultimate determination. And when Sylvain confirmed his trust in Felix, he launched forward, nipping at and sucking his tantalizing lip.

Sylvain succumbed easily to Felix, drawing him into an urgent kiss as his hands roamed the length of his body. It was strange foreplay, talking about bringing in his personal nemesis. It was dark, and fucked up, and most of all, it was extremely hot. Though he wanted nothing more than to be swept up in the intensity of the moment, he broke the kiss to ask his most important question.

"And what is it that we both want?" His voice was soft and low, hands dropping once more to cup and knead at Felix's ass.

Immediately, Felix yawned into Sylvain’s insistent kiss, readily and greedily accepting everything given. Though when they parted, a haze of sorts surrounded Felix as his panted out short, quick breaths.

When Sylvain grabbed his cheeks, he did nothing to stifle the gasp that came from the surprise grab. But when he asked his heady question, Felix paused a moment. The easy answer was himself, even if Felix didn’t believe it. But taking a moment, he mulled over the two men and his experiences with the two, how the two related to each other, and then finally, how they all related to one another as a group.

Dima had been a part of his chosen family for years, regardless of his past. And with Sylvain, his light was loved just as his dark was. Felix facilitated something new and needed to the men as individuals and it only ever made them more special to him.

He could make this moment about himself or grossly over-sexualized. But instead, Felix held and pressed against Sylvain closely, matching his soft voice, only for them two. “Freely given acceptance. That’s what I think.”

The answer Sylvain received could not possibly have been farther from the one he was expecting, and he remained silent for a moment as he tried to process the words. It would make things easier for all of them if they somehow managed to bridge the vast chasm between them, and if Felix was willing to facilitate it--wanted to facilitate it--Sylvain would deny him nothing.

"Well," he said finally, "I guess you'd better tell me a little bit about what you want, then." He trailed his fingers up to the waistband of Felix's pants and hooked them into his belt loops, pulling the shorter man roughly against him. "So we're on the same page, I mean."

Tugged into Sylvain, Felix nearly growled in satisfaction. Over the rush of his pulse in his ears, somewhere in the back of his mind, Felix faintly recognized the soft sound of machinery booting.

He snaked his hands down, unfastening and shucking down Sylvain’s pants. Grabbing his cock and stroking it in earnest, Felix breathed life into the vision in his mind’s eye. “I want to see you take him for all he’s worth.” Felix pulsed firm squeezes to his length, with teasing touches at his slit. “I want to see you make him cling to you and call your name in his deep voice.”

Sylvain whimpered and sagged into Felix, unable to do anything but cling to him. His hips bucked lightly into every skillful touch, senses heightened by his lover's words. He closed his eyes and exhaled shakily against Felix's cheek, flicking the tip of his tongue out to lap at the shell of his ear. The mechanical whirring faded into the background, all of his attention focused on Felix.

"And what would you be doing?" he asked, matching the dark timbre of Felix's voice. He slid his hands down the back of Felix's pants to grasp his cheeks fully and pull him even closer, nearly lifting him up.

“That depends— hah.” His voice broke into a breathy gasp as he was nearly lifted to his toes.

Stroking him between their pressed bodies, Felix breathed heavily into the crook of his neck. “That depends,” he repeated clearly with no little effort. “Do you want me to work with you to make him cry? Or should I work to make you squirm?”

Sylvain continued kneading with his fingers as he spoke, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Those could work," he managed to get out before breaking off into a long moan at a particularly good stroke. "But what if we took care of you? What should we do to you?"

He took Felix's earlobe between his teeth and nibbled delicately, indulging for a brief moment in a fantasy about all the things they could do to Felix. The idea of working as a team with Dimitri of all people was still unsettling, but when it was for Felix's benefit? He was all in.

Felix’s hands stuttered for a moment at Sylvain’s questions. He hadn’t really put much thought into what a tandem team of Dima and Sylvain would look like, but goddamn, he didn’t need any help now that the idea had been spoken.

The thought of Sylvain holding him, making pointed eye contact with him while Ignatz held him down as the needle repeatedly kissed into his skin… A small strangled noise emitted from his throat as he arched forward into Sylvain’s built physique. 

“Oh…I… fuck.” His cheeks bloomed a furious red tint as he whined into Sylvain’s neck. “Is that something you’d really do?”

"Yeah," Sylvain breathed in response, entranced by the immediate reaction he'd gotten from Felix. "Whatever you want, Fe." He remembered the bashful way Felix had acted back in Ignatz' shop, displaying a blush that was far too dark even for having an area as intimate as his hip tattooed. He canted his own hips forward to grind against Felix, deciding to test his theory.

"You liked it, didn't you?" he whispered, letting the consonants hiss through his teeth and into Felix's ear. "Having two men hold you down. And that wasn't even sexual. I wonder what you'd look like if it was."

Not meaning to whatsoever, Felix whined at Sylvain’s words. He had noticed. And of course he did. For all that was ever said about Sylvain, he was astute and the man paid attention well. Perhaps especially well when it was something of personal interest.

The whimper died down as a drawn out groan replaced it from the teeth at his ear. “Yes,” he gasped, honesty the only thing he could process at the moment. “I focused on you, but the hand and the needle… so good.” He moaned out again, the memory and current sensations all adding up before sucking another bruise into Sylvain’s collarbone.

"Yeah?" Sylvain swallowed hard and dragged his nails along Felix's skin. "I was kind of wondering if you liked the pain. Looks like I was right." He tilted his head back to allow Felix better access to his neck, releasing little gasps and sighs of his own in response. "Took a lot for me to not shove Ignatz out of the way and fuck you right there on his table, you know."

The sensation of dull nails leaving trails on his own pale skin made Felix groan. The low sound turned into a mewl as he raked his teeth across Sylvain’s reddened skin.

“The poor man seemed like he was enamored with you as a canvas.” Felix pulled back for a heated moment as his pupils were blown wide. “You should’ve. We could have made up for it.” He pressed up, pressing forcefully against Sylvain’s mouth, imbuing his lips with heated gasps and broken words. “I wanted you to take me.”

Poor man, indeed, Sylvain thought to himself with a dark chuckle. Ignatz was far from his type, but it also had not escaped his notice the way the artist had eyed both of them hungrily. He shivered against Felix, tabling the thought for now.

"Did you, now?" he wondered aloud before succumbing to another kiss, this one full of teeth and tongue. He slid one hand between them to undo Felix's pants and shove his hand inside, grasping desperately at his cock.

“I did, oh fuck I did,” Felix’s voice stuttered as Sylvain’s hand grasped his cock. His fevered skin felt aflame in the large hand that now grasped and stroked his length.

Felix’s head lolled to the side as he was losing himself in the pleasure of this very, very odd interlude they were leading. He fluttered open his eyes to barely make out writing over Sylvain’s shoulder.

“Sylvain,” he panted. Moans and sharp gasps were interspersed with his words and in time with Sylvain’s motions. “I want you. And I don’t fucking care how, but, I think, fuck, I think we should go…”

"Go where?" he responded. "No one in here but us, Fe. Mia dipped out, remember?" 

Sylvain thought he could hear the sound of the machinery booting up behind him but chose to ignore it in favor of attacking Felix's neck with a new fervor. He moaned wantonly against Felix's skin as he dappled it with bruises and bites. Their commanding officer could have walked in at that moment and still, Sylvain wouldn't have stopped.

“Somewhere…anywhere. Fuuuuck.” 

Goddamn this man, was all Felix could think as he rutted up into Sylvain’s tight grip, chasing the amazing pleasure that he was receiving both from the man’s hands and his fucking mouth.

Felix let go of Sylvain’s cock in favor of reaching up and wrenching his jaw to turn his head toward the monitor and Mia that had very much come back.

`Repeated behaviors within restricted areas of the organization is punishable with an escalation schedule. Neither of you are subtle.`

Sylvain was about to protest the lack of contact when the words on the screen registered. He felt his face warm as if in embarrassment, which he knew was stupid because it was just a machine, except...

"Okay," he panted, struggling to gather his thoughts. "We should definitely go somewhere else, because I am nowhere near done with you." 

After giving one last firm squeeze to Felix's length, Sylvain hastily went about trying to make them at least somewhat presentable. Then he hoisted Felix into his arms, guiding his legs around his waist, and shuffled around to the rear of Mia's terminal. He shoved Felix up against the cold metal and immediately dipped his head to attack his neck once more, layering kisses and nips and generous passes of his tongue.

His grin at the red that bloomed across Sylvain’s face morphed into a look of hunger when Sylvain’s low and lusty voice registered in Felix’s head. Quickly gathering himself, he moved with urgency, wrapping his legs around Sylvain tightly, both barely getting around what was hopefully Mia’s only temporary chassis.

He let out a grunt of shock when Sylvain wheeled on him, pressing him hard back into the metal structure. Wasting no time, Sylvain resumed his relentless attack on his neck. Felix squirmed against him, babbling absolute nonsense at the pleasurable sensations he couldn’t escape from. Between shaking upon inhalation and breathy exhales, Felix choked out, “W-what did you have in mind?”

"I don't know," Sylvain muttered against the rapidly thrumming pulse at Felix's throat. "You seem to be the one with all the ideas, here. Not that I mind..."

Sylvain paused for a moment to readjust his grip on Felix, dropping a hand between his legs and resuming his work. He wrapped strong fingers around Felix's cock and began with a single slow drag, keeping his mouth pressed firmly to Felix's neck to muffle his own sounds.

“Is…that so? I don’t think I can even think fucking straight right n--!” Felix was barely able to gasp out before mumbling a string of incoherent curses into Sylvain’s neck.

He threaded his fingers through the thick shock of red and jerked his head back before nearly snarling into his mouth. Felix kissed him deeply, swallowing all the noises and whines they made together.

Sylvain dove hungrily into the kiss, drawing Felix's tongue into his mouth and suckling at it. He released Felix's length for a moment to free his own, then took them both in hand and resumed his languid, steady pace. The whirring of machinery had not stopped, but he didn't hear any sounds coming from the terminal and figured they were being quiet enough to avoid alerting their (nagging, annoying) electronic 'friend.'

When Sylvain paused his ministrations, Felix pulled back, eyes glassy and dazed. He looked down watching with wide eyes as Sylvain took out his engorged length.

“How…how are you so strong? Or dexterous? Or both?” Felix looked at the man with an unbelieving wonder. “You’re holding me up and still able to fucking get us both…” He let out a moan of contentment followed by a breathy chuckle, clear with affection. “God, you’re fucking impressive.” 

"Well," Sylvain purred, though his voice trembled as he was clearly affected by the praise, "I don't know if you've noticed, Fe, but I kind of have you pinned. That helps." 

He gave  a quick, hard thrust of his hips followed by a slow grind. While he was fighting to retain at least some semblance of control, the experimental squeeze of their lengths together nearly proved to be Sylvain's undoing. He let out a long, shuddering breath as his head fell back, stilling the motions of his hand.

"How are you so good for me?" he asked, voice trembling with desire.

“It’s real,” he panted, “fuck. Real simple. ” Felix had a hard time keeping his breathing even as Sylvain moved against him. “You’re mine,” he gasped out, “And I’m yours.” It was silly to say and an easy thing for most to parrot, but the sincerity of which he used, it was completely genuine. Time and time again, Felix would prove that, yes, indeed, they had something with each other that was solely unique to them.

Pinned as he was, he moaned, biting his lip, arching his back and grinding his hips down against Sylvain, chasing the pleasure they both so integrally craved.

The whimper that escaped Sylvain was almost helpless and he cast his eyes downward to meet Felix's heated gaze. 

"I am," he panted, shifting his hips up against Felix in a slow grind. "Always." 

Sylvain began to move his hand again, his fingers more a gentle caress than a proper stroke. With each movement of his wrist, he tried to convey the depth of his affection for the man. They'd nearly lost each other twice, and if Sylvain had learned anything from the experience (besides what the crippling fear of losing a loved one felt like), it was to take full advantage of their time together.

“Always,” Felix agreed. He threaded his hands through Sylvain’s hair, kneading and massaging at his warm scalp before tilting his head and pulling him in for a languid kiss.

Felix gasped and groaned into his mouth, trailing his tongue with his own, suckling on it with a whimper. “Sylvain,” he breathed. “I need you.”

"You can have me," he breathed against Felix's lips, breaking off into a low moan at the suction and whimper. Somehow, Felix always knew just how to get to him, and he had since their first time together. "How do you want me?"

Sylvain released their lengths in favor of hooking his fingers into Felix's belt loops and slowly inching his pants down. While he longed for Felix to have him any which way he wanted, he forced himself to slow his movements; despite their current location, he didn't want to be hasty. He wanted to give Felix the attention he needed and deserved.

Though he had been in ecstasy as they were, Felix had a personal need of which, Sylvain had told him to express as he saw fit. The man squirmed the slightest bit when he tapped his shoulder to be let down.

Once free from his pinned position, Felix finished Sylvain’s work by shucking his own pants off. He turned with a pointed look as he leaned over the communication station, sticking out his hips and ass. Chest to the metal, he looked back at Sylvain with a lusty gaze. “Please,” he whispered.

Sylvain obediently put Felix down, watching in awe as he bent over the console, presenting himself beautifully. "You don't even have to ask," he murmured as he sank to his knees and gently nudged Felix's legs apart. He ran his hands up the backs of Felix's legs, kneading into the taut muscle before sliding them forward to grip his inner thighs.

He nipped playfully at Felix's left cheek, followed by three tiny kisses. Then he dipped his head and ran his tongue experimentally along Felix's cleft, a soft moan escaping him. How they could constantly need each other so desperately was a wonder, and he hoped it never stopped.

Felix keeled forward at the first gentle press of Sylvain’s hands. He shivered against the cold metal as a fire burned inside of him only to be stoked by Sylvain’s masterful hands and mouth.

A weak gasp elongated into a moan as Sylvain nipped at his cheek then tonguing at some of his most sensitive skin. Felix was overcome in the moment, as crude as it was, at the dedication and love he felt from his promised person. Though inexperienced with others, Felix knew on a deep level that the willingness and the care that Sylvain had shown him and was doing so again, was nothing he would experience elsewhere. Felix spread his legs wider, his hand reaching back, barely able to run his fingertips through Sylvain’s hair attempting to impart his feelings, speaking breathy affirmations to his one and only.

Sylvain's fingers danced along Felix's skin, fever-hot beneath his own, as he moved his tongue lower in a slow drag against his hole. He brushed a single fingertip against his hole before teasing it with the tip of his tongue, then slowly working both inside. It had been so long since he'd last done this that he'd almost forgotten how Felix felt, how he tasted, the sweet little sounds he made in response to Sylvain's every movement.

"That's it," he whispered, voice slightly muffled. "I want to hear you, how good I'm making you feel." He pushed his index finger in up to the knuckle and crooked it the way he knew Felix liked, tongue still lapping at his rim.

“You feel so, fuck, you feel so fucking good Sylvain.”

Sylvain’s urging for commentary went unheard as Felix had unintentionally already decided in a policy of no inner monologue. With every flick of his talented tongue and finesse of his fingers, Felix was a mess. He moaned, clenching inadvertently and letting a laundry list of filth and exhalations out.

Felix pressed himself against the metal and angled himself back into Sylvain searching for more and more pressure and chasing the pleasure Sylvain saw fit to give him.

Sylvain pressed a second finger in, responding to Felix's cries with a litany of his own sounds: praises, moans, gasps, sighs. His cock throbbed insistently between his legs and he pressed his thighs together in search of some relief as he continued his skillful ministrations.

With a turn of his wrist, Sylvain easily located Felix's prostate and pressed his fingers in firmly, guiding his hips in a gentle back-and-forth rhythm. He was torn between wanting to make Felix beg and to give him exactly what he wanted, unasked; unable to decide, he began to work a third finger into his partner's waiting body, murmuring softly against him.

As if they were one, Felix went with Sylvain’s hand and guiding grip, moving back and forth, soft mewls escaping his throat as he felt the building pressure at his deepest point.

When he added the third finger, his balance faltered with a gasp of shock. Felix snaked a shaky hand down to his cock, holding at its base while he tried to get back any amount of calm. 

“Sylvain,” he breathed, desperation sneaking into his voice; a silent plea with his name.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Sylvain rose to his feet and wrapped his arms tightly around Felix's waist, sheathing himself in a single long stroke. He trembled against the shorter man's back and held perfectly still, his breath shaky as he rested his chin on Felix's shoulder.

"Fe," he gasped as he slowly began to move, barely pulling out with each thrust. He was overcome by a desire to keep Felix as close as possible and his grip became tighter still, hand dropping down to rest atop Felix's at the base of his cock.

The instant pressure at his core and the real weight of Sylvain on his back sent pulses of pleasure through Felix’s system. He raised a wobbly hand, cupping the panting head at his shoulder. He breathed his name in response, their own code. He turned into Sylvain’s cheek, catching his lips in a sloppy, half-missed kiss.

Wet streaks across his lips, Felix hung his head as Sylvain began to thrust deeply, hardly pulling out, a grind in the deepest part of him making him see stars. It was like this that Felix adored. An impossible amount of skin to skin, he felt every inch of Sylvain inside and on top of him. He babbled an incessant stream of gasps and moans, all dedicated to his love.

Sylvain echoed each of Felix's cries and added his own, familiar heat coiling in the pit of his stomach. "Close, Fe," he whimpered, brushing Felix's hand aside to grip and stroke his cock in time with his own movements. He cupped his palm around the slick head, hips stuttering, and bit down hard on Felix's shoulder as he came with a low groan.

The whirring machinery and the sounds of their breathing filled his ears as he came down, suddenly acutely aware of their surroundings and not giving a fraction of a damn about it. He laved his tongue over the marks he'd left, where bruises were already beginning to bloom. "My Felix. Love you."

His climax came in a hurry. With the practiced motions of Sylvain’s hand, the deep, grinding pulses, and the bite to his shoulder, Felix didn’t stand a chance of lasting.

He came with a groan as he painted Sylvain’s fist white, arching against the sensations of his tongue at his shoulder. Breathing hard, Felix offered a hazy, blissed out smile. “Yours. Love you back.” He hummed contentedly, body pressed against the unforgiving machinery. Felix spoke with only a taste of embarrassment, “We uh…we should move.”

Sylvain pulled out slowly with a satisfied sigh, stripping off his undershirt and gently wiping Felix clean. He tossed it to the side with a raised brow; there were plenty more where that one came from, and he'd grab it before they left. As he pulled Felix's pants up and turned him around to wrap him in his arms, he recognized the tenderness of his own gestures and his heart twisted in his chest. Dimitri had once called him a monster, but if he could take care of Felix like this, maybe he wasn't so awful.

He looked around the room and chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, we probably should. We don't want Mia to snitch on us." Not that he thought the AI would. "Uh, so since she's apparently somewhat sentient...did we just have a threesome?"

Felix moved pliantly as Sylvain took care of them as he always did. Such soft and dedicated attention in his aftercare…it was something he had come to expect of Sylvain, something so uniquely him and he doubted it was something he would ever tire of.

When Sylvain wrapped him in his arms and chuckled, Felix arched a questioning brow before he shared his thoughts. And with such a ludicrous idea, of course that’s what Sylvain concerned himself about. Matching his bemused expression, Felix draped his arms over Sylvain’s shoulders, eying him just this side of coy. “You could say that.” He paused before bringing it back to their earlier conversation, “You could also say it was just our first.”

Sylvain leaned into Felix and dropped his hands to his waist, holding him firmly. "So, that wasn't just pillow talk to get me going, then," he murmured, ghosting his lips over Felix's cheek. "We're actually doing this. But...I wonder what he'll think of this." He slid his hand down and gently touched the bandage covering the fresh tattoo on Felix's hip. "Looks good on you. I bet he'll agree." Then he stepped back with a little smile and extended his hand. "Come on. I don't know where we're going, but we should probably vacate the scene of the crime."

 

Chapter 59: Sight for Sore Eyes

Summary:

Felix’s eyes widened as his blood ran cold as he took in the large man that approached him. Missing left arm notwithstanding, the voice, the look, the sheer worry that shot through his system, there was no mistaking who this was.

Chapter Text

Miklan stalked through the endless corridors of the building he knew all-too-well, the expression on his face caught somewhere between a vicious grin and a perpetual grimace. His left sleeve hung empty; he'd given up pretense long ago and resigned himself to his bitter fate. He'd gone to the brat's old room first, but apparently he'd gotten himself into some bullshit and moved. It figured. He'd had to listen to more angry rants from their father than Sylvain ever would. Every dalliance was reported, though he was never punished. Most recently, news of the little shit's engagement had reached Margrave and, true to form, he'd dispatched someone else to gather intel.

He spotted a lithe, dark-haired figure at the end of the hallway and called out in a gruff voice, "You. I'm looking for Sylvain. Where the fuck is he?"

It had been a few weeks since Felix had been released from the hospital. In that time, word had spread of their impending nuptials and to his surprise, he found he didn’t mind it in the least. Leaving the medical bay, Felix walked without a hurry back to their quarters. All his tests had come back negative, his stats and healing were all progressing normally and as expected. Satisfied with the results, Felix wondered mildly if there was any way the mess hall was serving anything half edible when a rough voice called from down the hall. The insensitive voice itself caused Felix to pause and look at the owner of the rude voice when he was shocked still.

Felix’s eyes widened as his blood ran cold as he took in the large man that approached him. Missing left arm notwithstanding, the voice, the look, the sheer worry that shot through his system, there was no mistaking who this was. Allowing the love he felt for Sylvain overcome the anger and resentment he felt towards his love’s tormenter, Felix turned towards him.

“What?” He glowered up at the man as he approached. “Are you talking to me?”

"Yes, Fraldarius, I'm talking to you. Where's my good-for-nothing brother?"

Miklan's face twisted into a sneer as he looked the other man up and down. He knew about the tragedy that had befallen the Fraldarius family all too well; his father had gone into a rage that night and beaten him like a dog, despite the fact that he was far too old to old to be on the receiving end. If Sylvain had been there...

His blood boiled and he snapped, "I know where you know where he is, and I won't ask again. I know you're fucking him. Or is he fucking you?" The sneer devolved into a menacing display of teeth.

Felix’s stare narrowed even further at his impressively pointy maw, further solidifying everything he thought he felt about Miklan as fact. “Sylvain,” he corrected emphatically, “isn’t expecting you. You should’ve called ahead.” Should’ve never come rang in his mind, but it went unsaid.

He placed his hands on his hips, his lips pressed in a defiant line on his face. “And most people at least have the decency to congratulate us on our engagement before guessing how we fuck.” With other people around, Felix didn’t worry so much about retaliation, but even so…he shifted his weight to the left, his boot holding his knife, light and ready on the right.

“We are to be family so you better get used to calling me Felix, brother.” His eyes flashed dangerously at the large man.

One could never be too careful.

Miklan scoffed and rolled his eyes at the rebuke, taking a step closer. "

I don't know how much you know about my brother, but fucking is about all he can offer in a relationship. Best of luck with him, though, brother." He paused for a moment, returning Felix's stare and doubling down on it, eyes flashing with something murderous. "Bet he still takes it up the ass. Maybe I'll ask him myself. Now take me to him.

Chapter 60: Four is a Crowd

Summary:

“Listen here, motherfu-"

Before he could finish his statement…both Dima and Sylvain appeared at his side. Choosing to prioritize the threat at hand, Felix made a herculean effort to swallow his words. He moved directly between the two new additions, grabbing hold of Sylvain’s hand and offering a grounding squeeze, eyes never leaving Miklan.

Chapter Text

The blonde pilot walked from the classroom door out into the hall. Dimitri was in training to be a commander within the jaeger pilot division and had just finished a rigorous test in which he was now in the torturous phase of waiting for his grade. As his record was flawless in the field, a passing grade here would determine whether he was up for consideration for promotion.

Dimitri was in the middle of calculating the bare minimum grade he needed to pass when he heard an unfamiliar voice snarl a familiar name. Looking down the hall, he saw Felix locked in a terrible glare with an imposing looking man. Knowing that Felix could handle himself and was in no need of saving, Dimitri still took a step down the hallway to ensure that when he noticed the man’s defining characteristic. The missing limb and the shock of red hair all but confirmed his identity, Miklan Gautier. And specifically, no Sylvain.

Thinking better of it, Dimitri turned on his heel, heading straight to the residential wing, his strides twice as long and twice as quick. Much like the first and only time he had knocked on Sylvain’s door, calling it a ‘knock’ was generous; it was done with little tact or reservation.

Sylvain had been lounging dreamily on his bed when a perfunctory knock sounded on his door. He knew immediately who it was; the only person who knocked like that was the same one who'd come to berate him once before. He opened the door with a quizzical look on his face, eyeing the larger man.

"Can I help you?" And then, anxiety getting the better of him as all the color drained from his face: "Was it Felix? Did something happen to Felix?" He scrambled for his shoes, nearly stumbling as he pulled them on haphazardly before panic could fully take him. Ever since their latest near-miss, Sylvain had been exceptionally on edge, though the night terrors had subsided. Mostly.

Silenced, alarmed, and truth be told, impressed by the man’s quick reactions, Dimitri answered truthfully though, possibly unhelpfully. “He is alright but,” Dimitri stepped back, looking down the hallway from whence he came to check for any signs of commotion. Seeing none, he turned his attention back towards the scrambling Sylvain. “He’s a shit welcome committee. I saw him with your brother. Without you.

Dimitri, hell, anyone within the jaeger community knew the Gautier family. The pomp and the circumstance that came with that prestigious title, as well as the pressures and the sons’ very public failure of a deployment.

Beyond the substantive measurements, there were whispers. People spoke freely and haphazardly regarding the men. And for how much people spoke of Sylvain’s flirtations and dalliances, they spoke just as much about Miklan’s rage and his ill temperament. And seeing as how accurate Sylvain’s was, at least previously, Dimitri had no qualms in putting stock into those idle whispers surrounding Miklan.

“Were you to be expecting him?” He shook his head, blonde hair swaying in front of his midnight black patch. “Never mind,” he answered to himself, only to step back, allowing Sylvain room. “Just come on.”

Sylvain had to laugh at Dimitri's description of Felix, despite his budding panic. He remembered fondly the day they were assigned together. Sylvain had been flirting with some girl or other when the sound of his name made him instinctively flinch. He suppressed it and turned just in time to catch the name of his new copilot. Time slowed as if they were in a fucking John Hughes movie and Sylvain almost blushed.

Sylvain Jose Gautier and Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius, at whom he'd also been making eyes, though the other man seemed oblivious at best. But at that moment, Sylvain could have sworn he saw the scowl lift, his eyes brighten. He bolstered himself with the memory and obediently followed Dimitri. Though Sylvain was bigger and stronger now, the terrified younger part of him wanted to cower at the sight of his brother. Miklan took one look at the pair and raised a scarred brow.

"Oh, so you have a third?" His scornful eyes swept Dimitri as if sizing him up before he turned back to Felix. "Not surprised he has a side piece, to be honest. Probably the only way you could convince him to marry you."

The manner in which the large man stepped up to him did nothing to deter Felix. The words that he spoke and the chilling force behind them, however, had an altogether different effect. Instantly, Felix gritted his teeth and nearly snarled.

“Listen here, motherfu-"

Before he could finish his statement…both Dima and Sylvain appeared at his side. Choosing to prioritize the threat at hand, Felix made a herculean effort to swallow his words. He moved directly between the two new additions, grabbing hold of Sylvain’s hand and offering a grounding squeeze, eyes never leaving Miklan.

“And here he is. If you have anything to say, now’s the time.” His voice was thin and strained, barely concealing his irritation.

Sylvain attempted to keep the panic out of his gaze and gripped Felix's fingers tightly, pressing their palms together. The warmth of his fiancé's skin was a comfort and he instinctively moved closer until they were hip-to-hip. It unsettled him deeply how he could feel so small, even when bracketed by two men who he knew would protect him.

He didn't want to be protected. He planted a small, reassuring kiss to Felix's temple before advancing toward his brother.

"Why are you here, Miklan?"

The elder Gautier narrowed his eyes for a moment before breaking into cruel laughter. His empty sleeve shook at his side and Sylvain grimaced. "I just wanted to congratulate my baby brother on his new whore, that's all. And a Fraldarius, too." He reached out and grabbed Sylvain's collar to draw him in close. "Margrave's pissed. And he's coming for you, so you better watch your back, Sylvie." He released Sylvain and slung a companionable arm across his shoulders, ignoring his brother's wince, and gave Dimitri and Felix an awful smile. "When's the wedding?"

Miklan’s brusque grab instantly caused a chain reaction. As Sylvain was nearly dragged forward out of Felix's hand, Dimitri grabbed Felix’s shoulder firmly, stopping him as he went to launch forward. Molten eyes shot up to Dimitri in instant aggravation…only to see a tight jaw and a matching scowl directed at their visitor.

Not the least bit appeased, but reigned in from acting recklessly, Felix glared at the man wearing a cruel and saccharine smile. “The wedding’s whenever you and the Margrave are indisposed. I can fucking promise you that.”

The right side of Miklan's mouth twitched with amusement at the bold words. "Big talk coming from the runt of the family." He loosened his grip on Sylvain and took a step toward Felix, closing the gap between them. "It's a good thing Rodrigue isn't around to see his son become a Gautier's subby little bitch boy. The shame alone would've killed him."

Sylvain's vision blurred around the edges as he was overtaken by rage and he froze, unable to do anything but watch in horror.

The ‘runt’ comment went by unremarked upon. Felix had been called similar things throughout his life. It was a fact of life that he was short and that was something he had to deal with, never something that precluded him from anything. Rollercoasters when he was young notwithstanding…

When Miklan stepped forward, Felix squared his shoulders—short as they were—to the wide man as he approached sneering at him. He had never backed down from an imposing presence before and goddamnit, he wasn’t going to start now.

But what he said next took the air out of Felix’s lungs. The terribly homophobic moniker was awful in its own right but that was nothing in comparison to what trash spewed from his lips. For anyone to say his father’s name around him so carelessly, so…it had never been done. Felix was at a loss; anger, disbelief, and a series of other heretofore undefined feelings swirled just beneath the surface as he tried to maintain some of his poise when a smooth voice from his side cut through the morass.

“Oh come now, Miklan,” Dimitri spoke as he pulled back the slightest bit on Felix, moving himself forward. “You know that was only a term of endearment for you.”

There was a lilt to his voice, alluding to a smile that did not reach his unobscured eye boring straight into Miklan.

Sylvain broke away from Miklan to step between him and Felix, foolishly turning his back to his brother and enfolding Felix in his arms. The mixture of emotions swirling on his face were too much to bear and Sylvain was overcome by an instinctive desire to shield him from the ugliness he knew was about to go down. Miklan had focused his attention on Dimitri and was staring him down, eyes narrowing to slits.

"Dimitri Fucking Blaiddyd. Nice to see you. Been a long time. I'd shake your hand, but, well." A dry chuckle. "You see what Sylvain did to me."

Sylvain's shoulders jumped at the recognition and he looked down at Felix, his eyes asking an unspoken question: Did you know? The messiness of their ties was becoming apparent so fast that it was making his head spin, and he dug his fingers into Felix's back to steady himself. Flashes from the Drift, now over a decade past, began to resurface: Miklan beneath a slim dark-haired figure, clothes rumpled. His brother's voice reaching a pitch he'd never heard before and never wanted to again.

He bit hard into his lip to quell the nausea as his mind finally made the connection. Glenn.

When Sylvain stepped to him, Felix grabbed him, turning to the side, squeezing at his trunk. When he looked down, he met his eyes in a confused stare. From somewhere up above, Felix heard Dimitri’s deep chuckle as he felt his broad hand slip from his shoulder to his lower back, a comfort.

“Alexandre is still my middle name, thanks,” he said with a smile that once again, failed to reach his crystalline orb. “And I would say it’s good to see you again, but that’d only be half true.” Felix imagined that whether he meant his statement literally or figuratively was anyone’s guess.

“You know, I see about half as well as I used to, but from what I see is a hazard of the job.” He tapped two fingers almost in a mock salute at his eye patch. “It’s been a while, Miklan.”

Miklan's disgusted expression never wavered, his shoulders trembling with barely-contained rage at the cavalier tone.

"It has. But this is a family matter, Blaiddyd, and I don't see how that involves you. Unless you were looking for a replacement and my good-for-nothing brother got in your way."

The fact that he knew Glenn--and by extension, Dimitri--so well was one he'd never spoken of and had kept tightly locked away. He knew his nosy younger brother had seen something that day, just before Ruined Sky had been torn asunder and taken part of him with it. But he'd never been able to figure out just how much Sylvain knew, and it unsettled him.

Felix remained silent, looking up from Sylvain’s chest as Dimitri’s eye narrowed with a low and dangerous bass to his voice. “No one could replace Glenn.”

There was no mistaking the righteousness or vindictiveness in his tone when he spoke next. “I would’ve thought you of all people would’ve known that.” He looked at Miklan with unabashed ire. “But, I guess my initial impression of you was right all those years ago. Pity,” he said, without an ounce of it.

Still from below, Felix looked on with clear confusion at the men.

“Your threats meant nothing then and your taunts mean nothing to me now,” he responded coolly.

Felix looked on with equal parts astonishment and bewilderment as Dimitri responded to such venom without so much as breaking a sweat. He had known Glenn and Dimitri’s relationship, but what about Miklan? It was clear that important clarifying information was missing.

As Dimitri continued, the emotions in with which he spoke shifted and reflected in his presence. “For me to answer as you wish, I will not do, Miklan. I won’t speak ill of the dead.” His voice softened at the latest word, his hand wavering slightly at Felix’s back. “But I will say this,” he continued, “Glenn always gravitated towards broken things.”

He paused for a moment longer, his clear gaze scanning Miklan from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with what he saw. “How far would you pull away from him now if he saw you like this?”

"Like what?" A fraction of the hostility faded from Miklan's voice, replaced by something more akin to self-loathing. Sylvain's ears perked up at the tone; it was one familiar to him because it was his own, but he had never heard it from his brother. He shivered at the implication behind Dimitri's words--while he knew the other man no longer considered him quite as broken, he couldn't help but wonder if his brokenness had been what attracted Felix to him in the first place. He pressed his cheek to the top of Felix's head and tried not to think about it.

The 'broken' comment appeared to get to his brother, too; the gruffness returned to his voice, and Sylvain could practically feel him breathing down Dimitri's neck.

"What makes you so certain I'd pull away at all?" he responded with a savage grin. "Maybe I'd take a page out of my little brother's book and claim him."

Felix heard the shift in Miklan’s voice just as Sylvain must have as he pressed down harder on his head, smothering him in the only way he knew how to shield Felix. In reciprocation, he gripped around Sylvain’s waist tighter.

It was Miklan’s comment now that finally incensed Dimitri. Even from the corner of his eye, Felix saw the blonde draw himself up to his full height, broadening his posture, towering over all the men present.

“Even when I had two eyes,” he spat, “how Glenn ever saw anything redeeming in you or even gave you the time of day is beyond me.” He scoffed derisively as he continued with disgust. “It’s good of you to realize in that thick skull of yours that your tongue is unworthy of even uttering his name.”

Dimitri looked at Miklan with nothing short of contempt. “Have you given your message? If not, be done with it so you can scurry back to whatever rock you crawled from under.”

Miklan said nothing, simply turned on his heel and stalked off. He had, indeed, said his piece...for now. He needed time to think about the next thing his idiot brother had coming to him.

Once Miklan's oppressive presence had gone, Sylvain released his hold on Felix and gently tipped his face up to look into his eyes.

"Hey. Are you okay?" he asked, knowing full well that Felix was probably very much not okay.

Dimitri glared at the retreating figure as the bulky silhouette disappeared from sight. He let out a long breath that shook at the end, his fingertips grazing Sylvain’s gathered arms. He didn’t remove his touch from Felix’s back or his hands.

Head tipped back, Felix looked from Sylvain to Dimitri, then back to Sylvain. “What was all that? What does his being here mean? What does it mean for us, Sylvain?”

Sylvain flicked his gaze to Dimitri in surprise, not expecting the other man to touch him, let alone so gently. It was quite unlike all the other times they'd made physical contact, and Sylvain was even more surprised at the shiver that ran up his spine at the sensation of the large hand on his arm. He wondered idly if this was how Felix felt when Sylvain touched him...and realized that he found the thought extremely appealing.

He dipped his head to press a gentle kiss against Felix's lips, then drew back just enough to look into his eyes as he spoke. "It means that he decided to stir up some shit, probably because he got bored. Worst case scenario is that our father actually is pissed, which, well, that's nothing new to me." Sylvain knew damn well that he was avoiding answering the real question, but he couldn't bring himself to share the information Felix wanted. It felt as though it wasn't his story to tell.

Chapter 61: Three’s Company

Summary:

Dimitri moved with the insistent tug, his body only an inch from the two men. He swallowed hard as his eye spanned the two, each looking more delectable by the second. His deep voice rumbled from within his chest, “You’ve both discussed…me?”

Chapter Text

Felix’s kissed mouth turned into a downturn, unsatisfied with the answer, yet, he didn’t press. This, like most things, would likely be done on Sylvain’s time. This was as unexpected of an interaction as anyone could imagine. The least he could do was allow time to process.

Lifting himself, he pressed another hard kiss to his mouth. He turned slightly, eyeing Dimitri who had fallen silent at their sides. 

“You went to get Sylvain, didn’t you?”

Sylvain let out a confused whimper somewhere between anxiety and desire at the forceful kiss and leaned forward, chasing his mouth but ending up landing somewhere just below his ear as Felix turned his head. His grip tightened around Felix's waist and he drew him closer until they were pressed flush together in an attempt to use his favorite distraction and last resort: his body.

"Fe, come on, we don't have to talk about this right now," he pleaded softly into Felix's ear, then flicked the tip of his tongue out to tickle the lobe. "Let's just take some time to decompress, process, whatever. There'll be plenty of time to sort out this bullshit later."

Before Dimitri had a chance to answer, Sylvain wrapped himself even closer to Felix, speaking softly in his ear. He watched with a clouding gaze as Sylvain darted his tongue whip quick to Felix’s reddening earlobe. Dimitri blinked heavily, pressing his eye closed as he refocused on the situation at hand. His own large hand, at some point, had moved to cover Sylvain’s at Felix’s back.

Feeling like this was something he was not a part of he cleared his throat.

“I wanted to make sure everything was alright. I should get going.”

The intrusion was, for once, welcomed. At Dimitri's words, Sylvain subtly curled his fingers up and back to hold the other man's hand in place. He drew Felix's earlobe between his teeth and lightly worried the flushed skin, making blatant eye contact with Dimitri all the while. His free hand slipped down to press into the curve of Felix's lower back.

"See, Dima?" he asked softly, testing the nickname to see the man's reaction. "Physical touch always calms him down. Especially this." The hand on Felix's back drifted lower to cup the curve of his ass in his palm, squeezing lightly. "I wonder how much of this you already knew..." 

It was posed as an honest question instead of a challenge.

At Sylvain’s actions and his soothing voice, Felix’s breath escaped him in a shivered rush. He could feel the movement of his hand as he moved it to the curve of his cheek. It wasn’t hard to see the litmus test that this moment turned into and he wouldn’t waste the opportunity.

Easily arching into his grasp, Felix felt the ridges of multiple fingertips at his back. He pressed back onto the hand that cupped his cheek, letting out a small moan, for once, just loud enough for one other person to hear.

Dimitri’s eye went wide as his clear gaze was swallowed by darkness as his sight wavered from Sylvain’s heated gaze to his hand on Felix’s ass. His grip tightened behind Felix as both Sylvain’s words and the smaller man’s moans registered. He remained silent and still, quite unsure of all that was happening.

Sylvain's hand slid into the rear pocket of Felix's pants as he grew bolder, helping himself to a generous handful that lifted the shorter man up and drew him even closer. He wedged a thigh between Felix's legs and lightly pressed, capturing the man's lips in a short but simmering kiss before turning his attention back to Dimitri.

"Are you going to answer the question?" he purred. "Or am I going to have to figure out what Felix likes all by myself?" As if he didn't know more than well already, but it never hurt to add a few more tricks to his repertoire. He began to move his leg in a steady but subtle back and forth motion, pressing in just enough to tease Felix.

Felix moved pliantly in his hold as he felt himself get hoisted up into Sylvain’s grasp against his thigh. He turned his head from Sylvain’s passionate press towards Dimitri, biting at his lip.

“I-it seems to be successful, yes,” Dimitri managed to stammer out, breath having escaped his lungs. “I…I’m not certain if I recall or know all the…places in which Felix enjoys.”

Face already tilted towards him, Felix turned, looking directly at the tall man. Reaching out, he pulled Dimitri’s free arm, placing it at Sylvain’s muscled side. Felix practically purred at the man, “You could find out with both of us, Dima.”

Sylvain immediately leaned into the touch, silently encouraging Dimitri. He pressed his temple to Felix's and gave the blonde his very best fuck-me eyes, lashes lowered, lips slightly parted and still flushed and wet from the kiss.

"You could," he agreed. "We've talked about it, you know. More than once, actually." Sylvain worked his hand between them to grasp at Felix's clothed cock, hoping that he would respond as beautifully as each time before. And judging from the reactions he was already receiving from the scant touches--and how Felix had responded to having Ignatz and Sylvain touch him at the same time--the forecast looked more than promising. "I don't say this often, but I feel like I could learn from you. You've known him for a long time." Sylvain added a light squeeze to punctuate his sentence.

Felix gave Sylvain a simmering sideways glance that made him keen with hunger and desire. The face, those eyes, the way his goddamn lips pursed out ever so slightly…Felix canted his hips up urgently into the expert touch of his talented hand.

Arm wound tight at Sylvain’s neck keeping him close, Felix reached out, sliding his hand around Dimitri’s solid, well-built side, tugging him close to them. Looking up, matching, or rather, doing his best to match Sylvain’s beguiling look, he intoned in a heated whisper. 

"You could, Dima."

Dimitri moved with the insistent tug, his body only an inch from the two men. He swallowed hard as his eye spanned the two, each looking more delectable by the second. His deep voice rumbled from within his chest, “You’ve both discussed…me?”

Sylvain reluctantly pulled his hand from Felix's pocket in favor of placing it low on Dimitri's waist, just above the sharp line of his hip. He felt as much as heard the resonant rumble and shivered, suddenly acutely aware of his own reaction to the man's presence. He began to work his hand in slow, teasing strokes, all the while maintaining bold eye contact with Dimitri.

"We have, actually," he said smoothly as he shifted his own hips forward to rut against Felix. "A lot of different ways, actually, but mostly both of us taking him, pleasuring him. And you were right...he does make the sweetest sounds. Would you like to hear them for yourself?"

“He’s right, Dima,” Felix intoned softly, a secret for their ears only. He nuzzled into Sylvain affectionately before turning one hundred percent of the heat from his amber eyes as they glazed over in lust at Dimitri. “How good it would be to have you both have me however you want.” He stressed the words in an effort to convey their previous discussions to Dimitri, however, his clarity and mastery of the language would soon slip into nonexistent territory as he was ready to tear into Sylvain and his rutting motions.

It was this time that Dimitri made a small strangled sound at the back of his throat as he stepped forward into Sylvain’s thumb strokes and Felix’s punishing grip.

Sylvain's lips curled into a smile and he slipped his thumb below the waistband of Dimitri's pants, dexterous fingers dancing along his hip to the top of his thigh...and stopping there. Better to give him a preview of what Sylvain was capable of and leave the rest up to him. Muscle memory took over and he instinctively popped the button of Felix's fly, pulling his cock up through the opening until only the tip was exposed, still covered by his underwear.

"I can show you one thing he likes, right now," he breathed, thumbing over the head with a soft moan as though he were the one being touched. His eyes, now nearly black with lust, remained locked on Dimitri's face. His touch grew more insistent, knowing that for as vocal as Felix was when they were alone, he would react even more with a third party in the room

Dimitri’s breath hitched as the rough thumb pad rubbed small circles onto the thin skin at his waistline.  Yet his eye went exactly where Sylvain had directed his attention. Any ring of clear blue that existed in his iris was nearly blotted out by his pupil as he watched Sylvain expertly handle Felix until he saw only what he had felt all those years ago. He swallowed hard, hand extending slightly.

Felix threaded his hand up Dimitri’s bulky arm as he goaded on the intended contact. That the contact didn’t come fast enough was another thing. Felix pulled Dimitri’s arm, making his hand cup the tip of his stiffened member. He moaned sweetly, a voice he knew never failed to go straight to Sylvain’s cock and, what he hoped, was a similar reaction for Dimitri.

Sylvain exhaled in a slow, shuddering breath at the sight before him and slid his hand down Felix's shaft, pushing his pants down with the side of his hand. He turned at the waist ever-so-slightly to press his own hardness into Dimitri's hip as he leaned in to whisper in the man's ear.

"See how much he wants you, Dima? How much I want you?" Sylvain sighed, near enough to make contact but choosing not to; touching above the shoulders felt far too intimate for his comfort and was, he decided, something best avoided for now. Instead, he spread his legs just enough to straddle Dimitri's thigh as much as he could from a standing position. "Don't you want to hear more?" He guided Dimitri's hand down to replace his own, moving his hand to rub small circles on Felix's hip.

Dimitri easily leaned into the hardness at his side. Feeling Sylvain’s length brought out a primal urge as he thrust his thigh against the middle of Sylvain, chasing after his stiffening cock. The hand that had pressed heavily into Felix’s back went to the tip of his cock. Stroking the turgid length in his broad palm, Dimitri felt himself breathing quicker as he leaned into Sylvain harder. Though, it wasn’t until his hand was replaced with his own on Felix’s cock that he acted, unprompted.

In an instant, Dimitri replaced his hand with his other thigh, rutting against Felix’s nearly exposed length as he brought his hand to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair, yanking it back from the root drawing an ungodly groan from Felix’s soul. Apparently he did remember things Felix had shown an interest in.

It was there that his pupil shrunk immediately. Releasing his hold and stepping back multiple feet as if he had been burned, he looked between the two, panting. 

“I need to… Please excuse me.” 

The blonde man turned on his heel and strode quickly away.

With the large man sandwiched between them, Sylvain couldn't help but respond to Felix's groan with one of his own, a surprised hiccupping sound that would have embarrassed him had he not already been so far gone. To see Dimitri responding to both of them and being so attentive to their pleasure was not what Sylvain expected, but it was exactly what he wanted.

Sadly, the other man quickly broke away. Sylvain allowed himself a sly smirk as he turned back to Felix, resuming their former position. "What do you suppose he needs to do?" he asked, breath hot against Felix's cheek.

"What do you suppose he'll be thinking about?" His hand crept back downward and slipped shamelessly beneath the waistband of the other man's briefs to cup him fully. "What will you be thinking about later, Fe?"

The absence of their third was felt and lamented for the moment just before Sylvain turned an incredibly sly look in his direction. Felix snaked his hand in between their pressed bodies, tucking himself away, erection pressing up against the fly of his pants.

Leaning into Sylvain’s heated breath, Felix nuzzled into his flushed skin, nipping at the jut of his sharp jawline. Before answering, he allowed Sylvain to speak and let his hands wander to all places he had made himself very familiar with. Nipping a sharp canine to his lobe, Felix laved his tongue over the affected bite mark as he spoke breathily, “If he’s smart, he’ll be stroking himself thinking of all the things he’s going to miss out on.” Reaching down, he grabbed, stroking Sylvain’s length with the palm of his hand. “All the things I’m going to do to you.”

Pulling back from Sylvain, his hand remained cupped around his sizable member, tugging gently yet, still insistently towards him. Felix gave him a coy look as he caught his lip in his teeth.

“My room.”

Chapter 62: Bed of Trust

Summary:

Nestled together, Felix remained close, meeting his gaze, nearly foreign in its timidity. He pressed a chaste, but lingering kiss against his lips before leaning his forehead against Sylvain. With his eyes shut, Felix breathed, “Are you with me?”

Sylvain pulled Felix close and gave his side a reassuring squeeze, his sharp gaze softening to one of pure adoration. "I'm with you, Fe. Always. And that's never going to change."

Chapter Text

Sylvain whined low in his throat at the sudden and much-overdue contact, hips jutting forward at the generous strokes. His first instinct was to protest when Felix stopped, but the fact that Felix intended to literally lead him by his dick was incredibly hot, and something Sylvain couldn't believe he hadn't thought of before himself.

He pulled away with a ragged gasp, already oversensitive and twitching, and grabbed Felix's hand to keep it in a more chaste position as he more trotted than ran to Felix's room. But once they were inside, all sense of haste vanished. Sylvain pressed Felix's back to the door, drifting his hands down to gently hold his waist.

"And what were you planning on doing to me, exactly?" he whispered, though his voice trembled with desire.

Felix moved easily enough with Sylvain from the middle of the hallway on all the way to up against his door. Looking up at the man, at his man, he reached up, gently cupping and stroking his face. “I was,” he began, as an evil grin played at the corners of his mouth. “Planning to pound you so soundly you go hoarse from calling my name.”

He slid his hands south, hands at the sides of Sylvain’s hips, smoothing them over his clothes. “But now,” Felix looked up, laying small, soft kisses against his jaw, “I want to take you slowly and make you feel as good as I can.”

The abrupt turn from aggressive lust to sweet tenderness was one of the many things Sylvain loved about Felix, and he willingly moved with the man's ministrations. "I want to feel you, Fe," he breathed, holding perfectly still and looking into the other's eyes for a moment.

Then, he stepped back and took Felix's hand, leading him to the bed with a half-smile that was almost shy. Sylvain stripped off his shirt and politely removed his shoes before lying down on his side, head propped up on one arm as he eyed Felix hungrily.

Felix mirrored Sylvain’s actions, taking off his shirt and setting his shoes next to Sylvain's own pair. He crawled up on the bed similarly, next to Sylvain, weaving his arm through his propped elbow and wrapping his other over his waist.

Nestled together, Felix remained close, meeting his gaze, nearly foreign in its timidity. He pressed a chaste, but lingering kiss against his lips before leaning his forehead against Sylvain. With his eyes shut, Felix breathed, “Are you with me?”

Sylvain pulled Felix close and gave his side a reassuring squeeze, his sharp gaze softening to one of pure adoration. "I'm with you, Fe. Always. And that's never going to change." He pressed a multitude of feathery kisses across Felix's forehead with a soft sigh. "Are you with me?"

His hands began to roam Felix's body, his touch more exploratory than heated. What had just occurred was...intense, and Sylvain felt fiercely protective of his partner. He rubbed slow, soothing circles at Felix's side, listening to the sounds of their breathing.

The way in which Sylvain reacted spoke volumes about his true feelings. A master at masking his own emotions, hiding them in plain sight, Felix had come to learn of the slightest of his tells. And right now? Felix was more than content to see none of them.

As Sylvain’s touch moved over his body, Felix likewise opened himself to the exploratory touches, returning them in kind. He spoke softly, a whisper between the closest of lovers. “Even if I wasn’t,” he paused, looking up lovingly at his partner, “I know you’d bring me back.” He raised himself, meeting Sylvain’s lips and coaxing them open in a languid kiss.

Sylvain's heart swelled to almost bursting at the words. When they'd first met, Felix had been endlessly sharp-tongued, full of nothing but expletives and criticism for him. But now, pressed together like this and speaking so softly to him, Sylvain felt as though he were seeing the real Felix Hugo Fraldarius.

"I would," he affirmed, allowing himself to be pulled into the kiss. He flitted his tongue across Felix's bottom lip before delving it inside to tangle with the other man's, exhaling in a long, low groan. His hands stopped at Felix's hips to hold him firmly as he deepened the kiss, suddenly overcome with a desire to swallow Felix whole.

Swallowing all the delectable sounds he somehow inspired in Sylvain, he propped himself up, maneuvering around his lanky build on top of the man. Without breaking their seemingly life-giving kiss, Felix bracketed Sylvain’s head with his elbows, slotting his thigh between his legs.

Felix moaned into his mouth, relishing their… everything. Never had he felt so in sync with another before in his life. He had recalled being envious of Glenn and Rodrigue’s connection. That there was something so innate that connected the two, that as they were gone, Felix would never have a chance to achieve that.

Yet, as he pressed down on Sylvain, the man accepted his weight as he accepted all of Felix, body and soul. He brought his hands close, threading through his thick hair desiring that connection in every aspect. Perhaps he could never have what they had, but maybe this, what he had with Sylvain wasn’t better, but something all their own.

Sylvain retained his hold on Felix as he rolled atop him, instantly closing his legs around Felix's thigh with a light moan at the pressure. The hands through his hair, like everything else with Felix, felt infinitely more tender and intimate than with any of his many partners before. He felt an odd sense of comfort after watching Dimitri touch Felix, meager as those touches were; the difference in the reactions they received from the man were miles apart, and Sylvain knew that it meant Felix was truly his.

Remembering what Dimitri had done earlier, Sylvain removed one hand from Felix's hip to trail it up his back and free his hair from its tie, allowing it to fall around them in a dark, silky curtain.

"Tell me if you don't like this," he murmured before tangling his fingers in Felix's hair near his scalp and giving a firm tug.

Felix murmured his assent mindlessly as he chased Sylvain's lips, moving his thigh in the firm squeeze. When pulled back, the man didn't stifle the sound that Sylvain likewise pulled from his chest. Arching back in an each bend, Felix extended his neck, stretching it one way and the other within the tight pull of his fist.

"So good, Sylvain." 

Moaning into the motion, Felix ground his hardening member into Sylvain's thigh with purpose. Opening his eyes, he dove back down, reapplying their skin to skin contact, kissing the man with a renewed vigor, thrusting his tongue down his throat.

If Sylvain had thought the sound Felix had made earlier was good, this was even better. He felt the moan at the same time he heard it, the sound going straight to his cock and prompting a small whimper of his own. Using the last of his composure, Sylvain smirked devilishly against Felix's lips, opening his mouth to allow better access.

He remembered the rough artlessness of their first kiss compared to how skillful Felix was now and while at first he'd thought that he was simply a good teacher, he knew the truth now--that Felix had made Sylvain *his* and had learned what he liked, not how to give a textbook-perfect kiss.

He tugged more insistently at Felix's hair and rutted shamelessly against him, desperate to draw out every noise he possibly could.

Feeling himself swell as well as the stiffening length at his thigh, Felix moved in time with Sylvain’s fevered motions. Each pull and each tug signified and elicited one more moan and groan from the man. That Sylvain had never discouraged his vocalizations, Felix had no reservations about responding honestly how Sylvain was making him feel.

Felix moved, diving into the crook of his neck. He latched on securely with his lips to Sylvain’s heated flesh, the lower target forcing a harder, more insistent and constant pull on his scalp. He sucked fast, wet bruises into Sylvain’s freckled skin; yet another demarcation of yes, he was his and no amount of anything or anyone previously would compare.

He breathed heavily into his ear, darting his tongue out to punctuate his words. “You’re all mine, Sylvain. Just like this, you’re perfect for me.”

"Yeah?" Sylvain whimpered, astounded at how easily Felix had been able to overtake him, how effortlessly he'd been able to render him completely pliant. "Wanna be good for you, Fe."

He arched into the pleasurable pain of Felix's voracious mouth, tilting his head to display the long line of his neck and offer up more skin for him to mark. While Felix had been possessive in the past, the all-encompassing words seared into Sylvain and without realizing it, he'd begun to respond under his breath: Yours, yes, yours, yours.

With one hand still twined in Felix's hair, tugging rhythmically now in time with the movements of the man's mouth, Sylvain reached down to free Felix's cock. He cupped his hand over the head with a small shudder, teasing as Dimitri had earlier in a subconscious game of one-upmanship.

“Yes,” Felix hissed in response to either the question or in agreement to Sylvain’s desire to be good for him. Whether he hadn’t time or the words for it, Felix couldn’t tell Sylvain just how good he was for him.

As Sylvain’s hand covered the sensitive tip of his cock, Felix released his hold of Sylvain’s skin just in time to let out a pathetic whimper of need. His large palm squeezing and cupping Felix’s sensitive tip was nearly overwhelming. Felix snaked his hand down, undoing Sylvain’s fly and bypassing his rigid cock in its entirety in favor of sliding his hand to grasp a handful of his plump ass. He kneaded into the skin as he pulsed pressure to his fingers in time with his mouth and hips.

Sylvain gasped harshly at the sudden contact and lifted his hips to give Felix better leverage, greedily seeking more contact with his strong, wiry hands. He gritted his teeth against the pathetic whine that threatened to escape  as his cock twitched against Felix's stomach, but he made no move to assert control.

"How do you want me?" he whispered, voice shaky. "How do you want your Sylvain?" He began to stroke Felix's hair gently, kneading his fingertips into his scalp. His other hand remained on Felix's erection, slowly working in irregular patterns.

Felix purred at the gentle contact, letting out an appreciative murmur. Stilling his motions momentarily, he paused in the darkness that was the expanse between Sylvain’s shoulder, neck, and hair. Felix answered his question without substantive reserve, though his tone however, was nearly timid. “I want you to ride me.”

His mind prompted to add a ‘please’ and the phrase ‘if you want to’ but for once, Felix didn’t succumb to the small queries in his uncertain and question-addled brain. If Sylvain had asked him without any qualifiers, then the answer he should receive should be much the same.

Though he didn’t voice any of the uncertainties that plagued him, they certainly showed on his face when he pulled back, amber eyes wide, waiting for a denial.

Sylvain captured Felix's gaze and offered him a sweet, reassuring smile in response to his request. He knew the other man still had periods of self-doubt and difficulty asking for things, but Sylvain would deny him nothing. In a series of deft movements, he rolled them over so Felix was pinned beneath him.

"That, I can do," he purred. "But I think these need to come off, first." He set to undressing Felix properly, trailing kisses everywhere his hands touched. When he was satisfied with his work, Sylvain shucked off his own clothing and settled himself back atop Felix's lap, leaning down to pull him into a heated kiss.

As always, Felix moved without issue in Sylvain’s deft hands. On his back, he lifted and shifted his weight, working in tandem to divest him of the rest of his useless clothes.

Felix propped himself up on his elbows, looking out as Sylvain removed his own before crawling on top of him and pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Felix whimpered into the movement as a simple result of seeing the voracity and dedication Sylvain displayed without hesitation, just for him. Felix’s hands danced down to his chest, tweaking his nipples and looking for the sweet sounds he knew he could elicit.

If Felix was hoping to hear just how much Sylvain was enjoying himself, he was certainly not to be disappointed--a series of increasingly desperate gasps and whimpers escalated to full-throated moans at the precise touch. He arched his back in an attempt to maintain the contact while reaching for Felix's nightstand to grab their mostly-empty container of lube. He held it aloft for a moment, then dangled it just above Felix's face with a devious half-smile.

"Looks like we'll need more," he murmured, leaning down to catch Felix's earlobe between his teeth and suckle. "Want to do the honors?" He pressed the container into his partner's hand, pulling back to gaze into the amber eyes that never failed to draw him in.

A hungry growl of assent emanated from Felix’s throat in response to both Sylvain’s words and actions. His heated, talented mouth around his sensitive flesh never failed to stir desire in the pit of his belly.

With the almost empty bottle in his hand, Felix paused and took a moment, looking up at the man who had changed his life forever. Such companionship, lust, and love were never things he had envisioned for himself. But now, looking up at his long lashes and dark eyes, Felix never wanted to go back. He emptied the bottle’s contents onto his fingers, rubbing together and coating them, warming up the substance before placing two extended digits to Sylvain’s waiting hole. He circled the muscled entrance before massaging the first knuckle in.

The simple care behind Felix's actions touched Sylvain deeply; he couldn't remember anyone ever being this attentive with him and while the self-loathing part of his mind would tell him that it was only because Felix didn't know any better, that Sylvain had somehow coerced him into these expressions of care...it was silent.

He let out his breath in a slow, shaky exhale as he felt the finger breach his entrance and instinctively arched his back into the touch. Unbeknownst to Felix, he'd willingly let a partner take him this way only twice before, and he suddenly felt self-conscious about the unintentional expression of trust.

At Sylvain’s gorgeous bend, Felix’s free arm reached to grip at his hip joint, squeezing into his muscle. He liked to think this motion was done purely for the point of giving some semblance of support, but that wasn’t exactly true either. He wanted to feel the exquisite way Sylvain contorted himself, his body’s honest reaction to his own movements. The interactions between them in these heated moments were never put on and, while Sylvain had a hard time hearing it (much less believing him) Felix found him beautiful in these hidden instants.

Felix let a stream of calming coos and affirmations as he massaged his opening, gently as he could. For once, he wanted to take all the time, tamping down his own excitement and eagerness, and focusing all his care and attentiveness on Sylvain.

As he slipped in another knuckle, Felix spoke softly, “That’s it, Sylvain. You’re gorgeous.”

Sylvain shivered and uttered a wordless, unnamable sound at the combination of the praise and the addition of a second finger. He continued to look deeply into his eyes, forcing himself to accept whatever Felix wanted to give him without shying away or spoiling it with his own dark thoughts. He clenched lightly around Felix's digits at the continued litany of praises, now well on his way to being completely overwhelmed.

"Fe," he sighed simply, dropping a hand below them to once again wrap his fingers around Felix's cock and stroking in time with the gentle, steady movements of his hand. "I love you." His voice dropped off slightly at the end, flustered at the intimacy, only to devolve into another long moan.

Felix’s hand curled in contentment at the devoted praise and honest remark. Amber eyes on him, Felix looked up and though smiles came rarely to him, fondness was clear in his features as he gazed up at Sylvain.

Moaning in his familiar and ever-talented grasp, Felix pressed further into him as he expelled held air. “I love you back for as long as I can.” Upon the sentiment, Felix pressed his fingers deeper into Sylvain’s incredible squeeze, holding him fast with his grip, stretching out his tight ring.

"Fuck!" The expletive came out quiet but forceful, both at the moan he received in response to his grip and the continued stretch as Felix worked strong, slender fingers into him. "Right there." He wasn't begging, not yet, but Sylvain suspected that his own gentle guidance would soon turn to pleas for more, and more, as much as Felix was willing to give.

He rolled his wrist on the next downstroke, subtly rocking his hips back into Felix's hand to spur him on. All the while, he found himself getting more lost in those beautiful amber eyes shining with affection. While all of Felix seemed to have a magnetic pull for Sylvain, he'd always been particularly captivated by those eyes--narrow when pissed, as they'd been when they were first assigned together, and now, open with all his emotions laid bare.

Eyes shining, Felix repeated the motions with his fingers. A ‘come hither’ motion encouraging the same explicative he had coaxed, hoping to once again find Sylvain’s sweet spot. Felix still didn’t want to rush their pleasure, but damned if he wasn’t going to give chase for Sylvain’s sake.

“Tell me where you want me, Sylvain,” he asked in a heated whisper, eyes flashing and demanding, “Let me be good for you here.” Felix punctuated his emphatic words with deliberate strokes of his fingers as he panted just at the edge of breathless.

"F-Felix," Sylvain stuttered, sliding his hand up to grip Felix's jaw and pull him into a bruising kiss. He flexed his fingers out along Felix's neck to grab a small section of hair, winding it around his fingers and giving a series of three tugs, each one a bit harder than the last. "Like that. You're so good to me, so good for me."

His eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he chased each motion of Felix's hand, encouraging him to continue hitting the same spot. The sounds of their combined moans and panting filled the room, and Felix's boldness and disregard for whoever might overhear them was intoxicating. He shifted his hips down slightly to grind against Felix, only intending to tease the way he was being teased now.

When Sylvain jerked him up, Felix slammed his hand up into his entrance, moving his wrist in and out quickly as the man offered him a litany of pleasurable sensations. He moaned into his mouth at the much appreciated praise. All praise that Sylvain saw fit to give hit Felix at his very core and pleased him to no end that he in fact was performing to the man’s satisfaction.

Felix melted into the tight tug of Sylvain’s fingers, his free hand reaching to catch his large length that bobbed between their stomachs. He palmed Sylvain’s cock, stroking at its sensitive tip that he had come to be very familiar with, looking up at him under his dark lashes, his pumping wrist growing tired, but never stopping. “Sylvain,” he said, along with a collection of other repeated affirmations and praises, over and over again.

"Felix," Sylvain responded, echoing his lover's call. He shuddered at the addition of strokes to his tip, already leaking heavily onto Felix's hand. "Need you. Please?" The last word held a plaintive note and he tugged harder at Felix's hair, jerking it back to latch his lips onto the tender flesh of his neck. He fully planned to leave at least one bruise, to claim Felix just as much as he'd claimed Sylvain.

He trailed a series of little kisses down to Felix's collarbone before biting down lightly, then moved to his shoulder to do the same. All the while, even with his mouth pressed to Felix's skin, he was unable to stop the torrent of sounds escaping him as skilled, dexterous fingers continued to shower him with touches and affection.

One day he would make Sylvain beg. It had been a perverse fantasy he had discovered existed in his mind’s eye. To see his handsome, strong, dedicated, loving Sylvain absolutely broken, rendered into a babbling mess, never knowing satisfaction until he was in tears begging for relief that only Felix could provide where and when he pleased. It was a fantasy that he had no trouble believing Sylvain would enjoy and indulge him in. But that was not this day.

Felix keened with Sylvain’s movements and sweet request, commenting mildly to no one in particular. “Like I could say no to you.”

Giving him one last hard thrust of his wrist, he pulled out his hand, giving one, two, two and a half swift strokes of his already weeping cock before lining up with Sylvain’s waiting hole. Moving his hands to Sylvain’s hips, ever so slowly, he guided him down, slowly, and even slower then, onto his cock. Felix watched the face of his lover for any sign as he entered Sylvain.

Sylvain purred at the comment, hoping that one day Felix actually would say no, would be a little--or a lot--mean to him, but for now, he realized that they both needed this closeness, this tenderness. At the first breach of Felix's cock, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ridden Felix, if ever, and looking at him from this new vantage point took him completely off-guard with want.

He wiggled his hips experimentally, then gripped Felix's waist and lowered himself the rest of the way down, not stopping until he was seated fully. "Fuck," he whispered again, looking down with awestruck eyes. "You're so beautiful like this, Fe." Sylvain slowly began to move his hips in a back-and-forth motion, watching Felix's face carefully in an attempt to find his favorite angle.

At Sylvain’s comment, Felix wanted to look away, avert his eyes from such a personal compliment, but fuck. When Sylvain looked on from above, lithe, built, and sensual as he was with Felix only able to look up at his love? A fire in this very fucking room wouldn’t distract him from the vision that graced his view.

He let out a breathy exhalation and an even breather explicative. No wonder this position was favored… and that was just the view! The incredible tightness that squeezed him as he pierced into Sylvain was unlike anything he had experienced previously. His hands stayed locked on his hips, shaking from the concentration it took to remain slow and pointed in his movements. 

“Move,” he breathed, rolling his hips and setting himself fully. “However you want.”

The trembling grip to his sensitive hips drew an endless chorus of sounds from Sylvain as he began to move more forcefully, the roll of his body incrementally picking up until he was keeping a languid, steady pace. He trailed his fingertips over Felix's rosy, parted lips and pressed down, reveling in the plumpness. His movements mirrored Felix's for a while before Sylvain rose himself up on his knees and began to slowly bounce himself on Felix's cock in variable, irregular patterns--some shallow and slow, others taking Felix to the base before suddenly, cruelly pulling himself away until only the tip remained inside.

"Like this?" he asked coyly, looking down at Felix through his lashes and admiring the faint flush that was now painting his cheeks and neck. With his other hand, he reached down and firmly tweaked Felix's nipple, rolling the bud between the pads of his fingers.

Felix gasped from the repeated, skillful rolls of Sylvain’s hips. Barely knowing what to do with his hands in the moment, when his long fingers came up to feel the plumpness of his lips, Felix took the dexterous digits into his mouth. Sucking at Sylvain’s exploratory fingers, he moaned around them, his tongue following wet paths around and in between.

The tantalizing and teasing way Sylvain rode him was definitely not lost on Felix. His hips canted upwards in protest of the lack of contact, each rise, another small irritant that wore on Felix’s stamina and patience. Yet, he wasn’t irritable enough *not* to arch his back, thrusting his chest into Sylvain’s pinching hands.

In an attempt to ground himself, his hands and his grip remained at Sylvain’s hip. When Sylvain next extended up, nearly pulling off of him completely, Felix lifted his hips and pulled down in a brusque, hard movement, fully seating Sylvain as he let out an audible gasp at the return of the instant pressure.

Now helpless under Felix's familiar and well-practiced touch, Sylvain couldn't help but move according to his will, keeping him close and deep on the next few thrusts. His fingers pinched more insistently and he wrapped his ankles as best he could behind Felix's upper thighs, desperate to hear more. The fact that he could make the most composed man he'd ever met respond this way was beyond belief, and Sylvain thought he would never stop being desperate for more.

"You want it hard?" he half-breathed, half-moaned. He could certainly do hard. Sylvain began to rock his hips in a rapid, brutal motion, pressing his fingertips ever more insistently into Felix's chest and pushing his fingers into the man's mouth until they were nearly touching the back of his throat. "Then I won't stop until you say 'when.'"

Were his eyes not nearly blacked out from his dilated pupils, one could be forgiven for mistaking that Felix was glaring in anger. But it was the *challenge* that Sylvain posed that he *thrived* off. He bit down in warning on his fingers, slowly dragging his teeth just a bit along his digits before swallowing them again.

The punishing pace that Sylvain started was an all new experience for Felix, but it was something he was ready to die for before he stopped even a moment of it. He grabbed at Sylvain’s bouncing cock, stroking it in the hard rhythm, finding and staying with his hard movements.

Sylvain gasped Felix's name, along with a mixture of curses, as the man began not only encouraging but guiding his movements. He let his head fall back for a moment with the long moan, only to snap it back up to make heated eye contact with Felix.

When he shifted his hips into the perfect angle that only Felix had been able to reach, his voice rose almost to a shout. Never before had he enjoyed himself in this position, let alone so *thoroughly.*

"Fuck, you feel good...so perfect for me." Sylvain was, for the moment, completely incapable of uttering anything else.

“You’re… yours.”

It was all Felix could say.

But it was that simmering eye contact, that shout, that perfect position that wasn’t merely physical that Sylvain could only ever reach. Something in Felix snapped.

Without any warning, Felix brought his hand from Sylvain’s hip to his neck, bringing him *crashing down* against his chest as he bucked up into him, hitting that same angle over and over again, gripping the man for dear life as he thrust his hips up, hammering without pause into Sylvain.

Sylvain gladly allowed himself to be pulled and position any which way Felix pleased, playing off his body and movements as a musician might improvise. All he could do was hold on for dear life with each harsh thrust, crying Felix's name over and over as desire pooled in his stomach.

"Harder," he gasped into Felix's neck.  "Need to feel you more. Mark me up, do whatever want to me."

In any moment previously, Felix didn’t hesitate to do what Sylvain asked. And in the moment, that didn’t change in the instant. He grabbed and held Sylvain even tighter against himself as his hips snapped up incessantly against his heated skin.

His lips found and latched onto the soft freckled skin, worrying between his teeth. A silent, ‘Do you feel me now?’ sounded as he snapped his hips up in a vicious staccato.

Sylvain answered the silent question with a wordless response, a harsh cry tearing loose from his throat at the punishing thrusts as well as the sharp teeth digging into his skin. At the moment, all he could do was cling to Felix as the man fucked up into him relentlessly, the fingers of one hand digging into his shoulder while the other wound itself once again into his hair and pulled in a hard snap before using the leverage to pull his face close again, begging for more.

"I like it when it hurts a little," he said softly, words slightly slurred. "How do you know just how to do it?"

Felix growled into the expanse of his skin. How the hell did he and this man even get to this point? From this vantage, it all was a blur. Yet, here they were, both clawing at each other’s skin as though the other had something to silently gain from it.

“When it hurts a little,” he repeated, half-slurred and hushed from breathlessness. Felix groaned into Sylvain’s skin, pulling his head against his tight grip. Biting down even harder, he rolled his freckled skin between his teeth. Without much tact and without giving a single, solitary fuck, he redoubled his efforts. Felix lifted the two of them off the bed, fucking into Sylvain with wild abandon, calling out his name in ecstasy careening towards his ultimate end.

"Or a lot--fuck, Fe," Sylvain hissed at the acute pleasure of Felix's teeth digging into his skin and leaving what he hoped would be a trail of wicked bruises in their wake. Taken aback by the effect his words had on the other man, Sylvain gave a sharp cry of surprise as he was lifted, marveling at Felix's strength. "Want you--yeah--right there."

His breathing became harsher as he approached his own climax, short nails scraping against Felix's skin. He held fast to Felix's hair as the man pounded mercilessly into him and he canted his hips up into each punishing thrust, desperate for friction against his aching cock.

Felix came with a harsh cry as he continued pounding up and into Sylvain, chasing his release right into the spot that had made him tug harder and harder on his scalp.

As the final waves of his orgasm ebbed away, his ass plopped back on the mattress, Sylvain on top of him. Arms still clinging desperately to the man, he held him against his chest as it rose and fell in big heaves trying to get his breath back.

Sylvain toppled over the edge shortly after Felix, clenching hard around him as he came across their stomachs. He gave one final sharp tug to Felix's hair, then loosened his grip to run his fingers through his locks, showering Felix's face with breathless little kisses.

"That was..." He felt at a loss for words. "It's never been like that for me before," Sylvain muttered, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Squinting and turning his face this and that way as Sylvain peppered him with countless kisses, Felix felt complete. Looking up at the man, he was surprised to see such an open and vulnerable look to his usually confident visage.

Startled, Felix moved a hand to cup his face. Concern clear on his face, he worried at his lip, patting soothing circles at his back. “Is that okay? Are you okay?”

"Yeah Fe," he said softly, turning his face to nuzzle into Felix's hand. He drew a shuddering breath and gave Felix a brilliant, watery smile. Sylvain wasn't quite sure what to say, how much to say, or how to say any of it so he remained silent for a long moment, deep in thought.

"That kind of thing's not...easy for me. Bottoming, but especially like that. But with you, it's...different. Safe. I liked it." He looked up at Felix through his lashes and worried his lip between his teeth.

The silence that followed Sylvain’s admission was longer than intended as Felix looked up into his eyes. The terrible vulnerability and the fondness shook him as he watched.

When he answered, the voice that responded was small and timid. 

“I didn’t know that.” Felix unintentionally mirrored Sylvain’s worried look. “If I’ve ever,” he started, shuddering at his next words, “forced you…” He couldn’t finish the thought as his eyes widened in dire concern.

"You didn't know that because I never told you," Sylvain soothed, stroking Felix's cheek. "And you haven't forced me, Fe, not once. Not ever. I trust you to stop if I ever tell you I don't like something."

He wrapped his arms fully around the smaller man's back and made a small, contented humming noise, trying to impart as much comfort as possible. Sylvain wasn't sure what had thrown Felix so off-kilter, but he hoped it wasn't the confrontation with Miklan earlier.

The face to face with Miklan and the allusion to his preferences and experiences thereof were enough to send a terrible, terrible chill through his system. But in Sylvain’s all-encompassing hug, Felix felt nothing but held.

And that was precisely what was needed in the moment.

Feeling himself slip out of Sylvain, he wrapped his hand around the back of his head while his other hand strayed to his back, tight grip with finger pads dimpling his freckled skin. 

“I never want to lose your trust.” Felix whispered next to his ear, determination and dedication clear in his voice. “I want to earn your trust and keep it in every aspect of our lives, Sylvain.”

The words came out sounding like a vow and Sylvain exhaled in a shuddering sigh, turning his head to press a kiss into Felix's neck. 

"I don't think you could ever lose my trust, Fe," he responded quietly. "You already have it in droves."

Trust was something Sylvain was wholly unfamiliar with--giving or receiving--and yet it felt natural. He supposed it made sense, considering that they'd literally been responsible for each other's continued existence more than once, but the truth was that he'd begun trusting Felix almost immediately. He nuzzled closer, his own broad hands sliding beneath Felix to splay across his back.

Chapter 63: Revulsion at the Reaver

Summary:

Miklan ambled around the jaeger bay, disdainfully eyeing the machines and cadets alike. Most were painted in muted shades, nothing like the black and brilliant crimson of Ruined Sky, but he still suppressed a shudder. The faces were unfamiliar, and most seemed to be unfamiliar with Miklan himself, but that suited him just fine for now.

He spotted a familiar small, dark-haired figure emerging from the belly of a massive jaeger, cold gunmetal and steely blue. Though his brother may have jogged over, Miklan practically strutted.

Chapter Text

It had been some weeks since he had been released from the medical bay. In that time, Felix had found and rediscovered a sense of normalcy and routine at the base, making time with and prioritizing his growing relationship with Sylvain. However, with Miklan’s unsolicited and unplanned introduction? Any and all sense of normalcy went to absolute shit.

With the shadow of his terrible presence at the base, Felix was absolutely loathe to leave Sylvain’s side for fear of a solo-interaction between the two for a fucking *wide array* of reasons. But, rules were rules, and part of Felix’s routine were his own delineated tasks. Which was why he now found himself walking out of Reaver’s hull after a few hours of calibrating and cleaning his hemisphere’s control. Brow sweaty, Felix grabbed and folded his jacket over his arm as he patted the cold metal, signaling his imminent departure.

Miklan ambled around the jaeger bay, disdainfully eyeing the machines and cadets alike. Most were painted in muted shades, nothing like the black and brilliant crimson of Ruined Sky, but he still suppressed a shudder. The faces were unfamiliar, and most seemed to be unfamiliar with Miklan himself, but that suited him just fine for now.

He spotted a familiar small, dark-haired figure emerging from the belly of a massive jaeger, cold gunmetal and steely blue. Though his brother may have jogged over, Miklan practically strutted.

"Fraldarius!" he called with a smile that displayed entirely too many teeth. "Glad to see you're not missing any limbs. Sylvie's a piss-poor copilot." His eyes narrowed. "Why'd you two get reassigned, anyway?" He already knew, of course, but wanted to make the man say it himself.

“Goddamnit,” he swore under his breath as the rough voice grated against his ears. Not relishing even the slightest bit of whatever the fuck this interaction was, there was a terrible tiny portion of him that was glad to have Miklan on his own. That way, at least, Felix knew he wasn’t torturing Sylvain.

“Gautier,” he answered, eyes narrowing, feet slowing to a cautious stride. “Sylvain,” he corrected, “Is a great pilot. And we got reassigned because the military panel is a bunch of fucking assholes.”

"Well, from what I understand, the sanction involved *something* about fucking assholes, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't the panel," Miklan drawled, deeply pleased to see how easy it had been to rattle the man. "But that's neither here nor there, don't you think?"

He stepped up to the jaeger and pressed his hand to the side with a grimace. "So, how do you like your new copilot, brother?” His empty sleeve dangled grotesquely at his side and he turned to face Felix, now wearing a full-fledged scowl.

He grimaced at Miklan’s assessment of the panel and of the information that obviously already knew. Felix stopped in his tracks as the man essentially blocked his way and escape, he noted.

Felix matched his scowl, glaring up at Miklan. “My new copilot is nothing I can complain about.” He nearly snarled, “You can see our records. Mine, Sylvain, and Dimitri’s.” Felix looked up at him with thinly veiled irritation. “But I’m sure you already know that.”

"Oh, I know more about you than you'd believe, little Fraldarius." The words came out in a hushed snarl and Miklan's eyes gleamed with ill-intent. He drew himself to his full height and sighed, feeling like a cat playing with a mouse. "What I can't quite wrap my head around is, why he'd want you. Or why you'd want him --god knows he's beyond damaged goods."

He gave a soft huff, scanning Felix's face and hating him more with each passing second for how much he did and did not look like Glenn. For the fact that he was breathing. For the fact that this little idiot, apparently, loved his idiot brother, who loved him back. Though most of the nerves on the left side of his mouth had died the day he lost his arm, he was still able to curl his lips into a sneer as he looked down at Felix.

Rather than lean into the urge to spit back in his face immediately regarding his own worth, Felix was caught off guard by the second part.

Why would he want him?

Felix scanned his face a moment longer, pondering the asked question as he took in Miklan’s terrible features. As he couldn’t see the Margrave with a kindly face, Felix wondered momentarily, just how much he had inherited from his mother and how much of him was learned behavior. 

“You don’t know shit about me.” He turned, shifting his weight to one side, eyeing Miklan, notably, not staring at his missing arm, but truly taking in his vicious face. “Any information you might have on me is no representation of who I am.” He shifted, his body going the slightest bit slack. “I wasn’t ever looking for perfection so if damaged goods are what he is, that’s what fits me.”

Felix met his eyes defiantly before narrowing in the slightest bit. “What are you doing at my Reaver?”

Miklan listened to Felix's words with half an ear; the response he got was less important than the knowledge that he'd been able to throw the other man off, even for a moment. The steely composure had returned and Miklan gritted his teeth, willing himself not to see Glenn in the defiant jut of Felix's jaw or his hair.

"'Your' Reaver?" He trailed a finger along one of the metal panels before lifting it in front of his face as though inspecting for dust. "I didn't feel like being around Sylvain, so I thought I'd come say hello to the newest Gautier."

He hoped he had missed a slick of oil when making his cleaning rounds on the portion of the jaeger that Miklan touched and examined when he confirmed, “Yes. My Reaver.”

Felix folded his arms and wrinkled his nose in distaste before answering Miklan; the first taste of possessiveness lingering on his tongue mixed with a dark pleasure that he took in his next words. “You should keep looking then.” He regarded the large man with a smile that was all teeth and something vicious, something that screamed an utter satisfaction. “He’s my family and that’s it. Sylvain will be a Fraldarius with me.”

"Sylvain won't be shit,” Miklan snapped, scowling at the smaller man who had the audacity to step to him. He raised a scarred brow as well as the corner of his lip, flesh pulling up like a snarling dog about to lunge. "Definitely not another Fraldarius." 

He spat the family name out as though it tasted terrible, and it did.

"Listen," he added with a heavy sigh. "A word of advice. You probably won't listen, just like your precious big brother never listened to anything, but he was born broken. There's something wrong with him." And it wasn't a lie, not quite--being a Gautier implicitly meant that something was wrong. "But, heh. Best of luck."

Felix stayed silent as Miklan spoke. An anger from the deepest part of him boiled in the pit of his stomach listening to the increasingly ugly man in front of him, the characteristics of which had nothing to do with his looks. Felix's frown grew deeper and deeper by the fucking second as the man as the hateful filth spewed from his mouth. Again, each second wishing beyond any logic that he somehow could have prevented any interaction in the past that Sylvain had with the husk of a man in front of him.

With barely concealed ire, Felix spoke softly. 

"You're right on one thing, you know." He met Miklan's cold glare with ice in his veins. Felix couldn't help but note something familiar in his angry gaze, something terribly similar to Sylvain's own, but never to be confused with. "Having my name won't make him anything," he paused, speaking softly, forcing Miklan to listen and hear every word, "Because he already is something."

Felix stood up to his full height, knowing nothing of fear for the man other than the awful feelings shared while in the Drift with Sylvain and begrudging every moment that created them. 

"He doesn't need me, but if he wants to be with me, I'll be damned if I discourage that. So no," he continued, just the slightest bit more suspicious than he was a moment ago. "I don't know where my brother came into this, but I won't be listening to you."

"I never said he needed you," Miklan responded after a beat, genuinely surprised. He lifted his remaining hand to his face and studied Felix thoughtfully for a long moment, unaware of his younger brother's tendency toward the same behavior. "He certainly seems to want you," he begrudgingly admitted.

But the comment about Glenn threw him off. Something unnamable flickered behind his eyes briefly before he dropped his hand and rearranged his features into a scowl. He leaned in close to Felix, practically whispering in his ear.

"Wouldn't you like to know how I knew your brother?"

Chapter 64: Recollection at the Reaver

Summary:

Felix cocked his head to the side, curious as to what in the actual fuck it was that he just saw...or what he thought he saw. When the man did, however, come closer into his space, Felix remained and turned into the sweet snarling, speaking to his auburn shadowed cheek.

"...How did you know my brother?"

Chapter Text

The way in which Miklan ran his hand up, rubbing his cheek down to his jaw was more than a jarring sight for Felix. The ease and the general fluidity of the motion was exactly the same mannerism Sylvain shared. He possibly would have been more unnerved by the movement had he not caught the unsolicited, odd look that crossed Miklan's features.

Felix cocked his head to the side, curious as to what in the actual fuck it was that he just saw...or what he thought he saw. When the man did, however, come closer into his space, Felix remained and turned into the sweet snarling, speaking to his auburn shadowed cheek. 

"...How did you know my brother?"

Miklan exhaled in a long, almost wistful sigh as he contemplated how to phrase it. On the one hand, his first and most powerful instinct was to hurt Felix as much as he possibly could. On the other, he had cared for Glenn in some capacity and it felt disrespectful to be blunt.

Miklan, of course, chose violence.

"We fucked, little Fraldarius. More than once. Your pathetic brother wanted more...as if he was worth loving."

Glenn? With Miklan?

A chill ran through his spine.

And more than once? Was it a normal thing? Felix thought back. Glenn had always been popular with the ladies and while it was less prevalent, he did pull his share of men…did he believe him?

Felix was unable to process a single question further when Miklan spoke. The way in which his heart ached and then dropped into the pit of his stomach. To hear Glenn’s name at all sent such a flurry of emotions through him. To hear that there was someone that knew him, that had a relationship with him stirred up an entirely new set of feelings.

But to hear his brother spoken about so personally, only to be referred to so callously, so dismissively, was a new experience all on its own. A rage grew within Felix as he stepped back. “What did you say?”

Miklan's dangerous sneer turned to an expression of near-delight as he beheld Felix's shocked expression, the way he appeared to recoil...only to rise up, not unlike a mongoose preparing to fight a cobra. He took a step forward, once again filling the shorter man's space, and placed his remaining hand on Felix's shoulder.

"I said, Felix, that Glenn and I fucked. Many times. I think you may have even been in the house for some of them, but you had no idea." He didn't even bother to stifle the dark chuckle that bubbled up from deep within his chest. "Do you want to know how he liked it? The same way Sylvain did."

Miklan likely felt the way Felix’s shoulder quaked under his broad hand. Before he even uttered a word, the smaller man grabbed the large hand, pulling it off to the side.

Felix gritted his teeth with wide eyes, his mind still impressively blank, not yet picking up on the terrible dig and tell concerning Sylvain. 

“Not that,” he hissed. “The other part. What did you fucking call my brother?” His voice wavered, “And that he wasn’t worthy?” 

Felix’s entire body shook as he choked out the words.

Miklan looked on with amusement as Felix shrugged off the touch, then wrapped his fingers around the man's bicep to hold him still as he looked into his face with disdain. 

"Pathetic," he answered, enunciating each syllable as a schoolboy might pronounce a word in a spelling bee. "Because that's what he was, brother."

The familial term carried a hidden threat, and Miklan's malicious grin widened at the tremor in Felix's voice. 

"He wanted more. Chased after it relentlessly, almost until the day he died. Did I stutter?"

More.

Glenn had wanted more from Miklan and he never got it. And now, years later after his death was still mocked for it. Felix’s eyes widened under the harsh grip that held him.

Pathetic.

It had been Miklan’s other descriptor of his brother. Nothing about Glenn was pathetic, ever. Even at their worst times together when they fought each other, never would Felix have classified the man as pathetic. There was still little processing going on at the moment as he tried to work through the logically simplistic terms and concepts that were, for some reason, currently evading him.

Felix's eyes went blank, past the hard grasp at his bicep. “He wanted more from you,” he stressed, “And you never gave him more, which is fine.” As his eyes came back into focus, he glared up at Miklan freely and openly, “Yet you mock him now.”

Felix wrapped his hand over Miklan’s grasp, speaking in a hushed tone. “Why would you say that?”

Miklan suppressed a shiver at the touch, which was both familiar and foreign. 

"Say what? That he was pathetic? Because it's the truth, Felix. He was. Always wanting more, more, more, whether it was in or out of bed. Did you have any idea how needy he could be?"

He smirked, digging a sharp canine into his bottom lip. For as much as it hurt to recall the distant past, he found that he liked the pain. Relished it. Lived for it, perhaps. His grip tightened around Felix's upper arm, hoping that he'd leave generous bruises in the shape of his fingers.

His muscles twitched to life under the increasing pressure of Miklan’s fingers. 

“He,” Felix began, “if he wanted more…and you couldn’t give it,” he looked imploringly into his cruel eyes, “Why did you stay there with him?” 

It was unhelpful that Felix noted the very familiar way that Miklan worried at his lip…giving life to another memory of Sylvain. One where he hadn’t been enough for the man.

“How needy was he?” The question was out before he even realized it. Felix had never known this side of Glenn and loath as he was to say it, this awful source looked to be the only place for it. Still in his heavy hold, Felix looked to Miklan for guidance in the matter, for better or for worse.

"Because he had the tightest ass I've ever encountered," Miklan laughed darkly, now looking directly into Felix's eyes as if challenging him. "And you wouldn't believe the sounds he made. You know, Felix...you sounded a lot like him the other night. I happened to be strolling past your room and heard the two of you. Sylvain still sounds the same, you know. How'd you fuck him?"

His smirk turned to something more sinister; he now had Felix hook, line, and sinker, and he wasn't anywhere near ready to finally start reeling him in. His fingers began to knead at Felix's bicep in a subtle caress, though he took no pleasure in it. This was the lesser Fraldarius, nothing like his brother. Nothing like what he'd only regretted after it was gone.

Any sort of grace Felix justified or imagined that was there was thrown back in his face. Any sort of calm or concern or anything else he had allowed in their interaction ended with a screeching halt the moment Felix felt his hands kneading into his wiry muscle.

Recoiling, Felix ripped his arm away from the budding presses as he stepped back. His face morphed into one of utter hatred while he looked with disdain. This time, it wasn’t about Glenn. He had never shared in his romantic partners and in some fucked up way, Felix enjoyed hearing about his brother enjoying himself when he wasn’t forced to live up to the example their father set. Any escape from that and Felix was appreciative; the heart wants what the heart wants–he knew that better than anyone. Logic and rhyme or reason had nothing to do with it. No, the issue came when he turned his ire on Sylvain.

In the most unnecessary of fucking ways, Miklan turned all of the ugliness he could muster at his own flesh and blood that, for some reason, he still was not finished torturing. Felix began low and soft, almost sounding remorseful. 

“I’m not my brother. Just how Sylvain isn’t you.” He looked up matching his gaze with now, free and focused disdain. “My Sylvain, no matter what you’ve done, has never, isn’t, and won’t ever be as broken and just plain wrong as you.” True to form, he let the word roll down his tongue like a delicacy, “And I will take and relish each and every opportunity that I get to ensure that he never makes the mistake of thinking he is anything like you.”

"And how do you plan to do that?" Miklan asked, genuinely interested. He closed the gap between them and pressed the scarred side of his face to Felix's cheek. "Convince him, I mean. I made sure to ruin him so thoroughly that he'll never be okay again, you know."

Little did Felix know that whatever Miklan had done to Sylvain, had been done to him countless times.

The contact of Miklan's skin against his own made Felix's skin crawl. But here he was, his flesh far too hot for anything familiar, the broad features against his sharper ones, everything was wrong. He felt the ridges of his hardened and long-scarred-over skin. Nothing was Sylvain

"You aren't that powerful," Felix answered against his scratchy shadowed cheeks. "Nothing you've ever done is too much to break Sylvain." He shook his head, replacing the lost space between them and staring unflinchingly at Miklan with eyes that he had been told his entire life matched his brother's. "If what you said earlier was true, Glenn would've been good to you. He would've done the same."

Miklan recoiled almost immediately at the words and took a step back, his eyes full of doubt. For a moment, he appeared to consider what Felix had said and a horrible, sickening flicker of hope lit in his chest. He promptly tamped it down. 

"I doubt that very highly, little Fraldarius. He couldn't even save himself. What makes you think he could help anyone else?"

At that, he turned on his heel and stalked off, head high, shoulders squared. But though his expression was as hard as ever, he was genuinely rattled.

Because that's who he was.

Though the sentiment went unsaid as Miklan surprisingly turned and quickly walked away. Felix was still unnerved by the entire interaction as his feet moved on an autopilot as they took him to the residential hall. Rather than his own room, he passed right by his familiar door on the right, walking straight into Sylvains's, which was presently unoccupied.

Unbothered by the lack of Sylvain, Felix still felt safest and most secure within theses four metallic walls. With no Sylvain, Felix tossed his folded jacket onto the rarely used desk chair while he immediately dove under the covers, inundating himself with everything Sylvain as he waited for the man's return.

Chapter 65: Partners to the End

Summary:

“Did you know anything about Miklan knowing Glenn? He said...they were close and had sex more than once and..." He paused. "He said Glenn wanted more."

Words failed Sylvain and his eyes widened in something rapidly approaching horror as the words sank in.

"No, Fe, I had no idea," he responded softly. "I didn't even know they knew each other. Glenn never came around and to be honest, the first time I saw him was...was the funeral. The only time."

Chapter Text

Sylvain had, in an attempt to avoid Miklan, spent the entire morning working out-- honestly working out and not, as he had in the past, pretended to do reps with the lightest weights he could find while checking out anyone and everyone in the vicinity. His lack of training was coming back to bite him soundly in the ass. His back hurt; his shoulders hurt; his everything hurt.

He shouldered open the door to his room with a heavy sigh and was intending to collapse onto his bed when he saw a familiar lump beneath the covers. 

"Fe?" he asked cautiously, removing his shoes and stripping off his shirt before pulling the blanket aside and crawling in.

He knew almost immediately that something was wrong. Seeing Felix curled up in his bed should have warmed Sylvain's heart, but what he felt instead was a cold shock of dread. He wrapped his arms tightly around the other man and pulled him close to his chest to murmur into his hair. "Felix. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

As always, Felix went easily to Sylvain. Of course his first concern would be why he was hiding under his own blankets. Maybe, had the situation been different, Sylvain might think it was cute. Felix hiding under the blankets like some overgrown cat, lying in wait to pounce on the man upon his return.

That was stupid. If Felix was ever going to do something so asinine, he'd go about it all differently...but that was neither here nor there right now.

Pulled into the larger man's frame, his back pressed against his...oddly clammy body? He voiced his findings without tact or hesitation, ignoring the question and the worry in his voice, "Why do you feel cold and clammy?"

"I was working out, if you can believe it," he laughed. "Don't worry, I showered. Still damp, I guess. So what's up? Why are you hiding in here?"

Sylvain nuzzled his face into the crook of Felix's neck and shoulder, arms tightening around his waist. Despite his brother's ominous presence on the base, he'd been holding up relatively well. It was comforting, in a grotesque sort of way; Sylvain had grown up constantly looking over his shoulder so if anything, Miklan's arrival felt almost like a return to normalcy. The same, however, could not be said for Felix.

"Talk to me," he said again, his voice low and soft. "What happened?"

Felix curled his head down, rounding his back against Sylvain, curling in on himself. 

"I talked with Miklan today. " He started, unsure of how to characterize the admittedly short interaction that had seemed to span a timeless, indefinite duration, "It was weird."

Sylvain's jaw clenched at the name. When it came to Miklan, 'weird' could mean a thousand different things, and none of them were good. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm for Felix.

"Weird how, Fe?" he asked, dreading the answer. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" His hands instinctively began to wander Felix's body as if searching for injuries.

Felix went to answer with ‘He didn’t touch me,’ but that would’ve been patently incorrect. He remained silent a moment longer focusing on the odd fact that there had been quite a lot of entering and invading personal space as well as contact on both sides. It truly had been an odd fucking interaction.

Finding and covering Sylvain's wandering hands, Felix grabbed and pressed them firmly to his body where they were. 

"I'm fine, Sylvain. It’s odd when anyone brings up Glenn anymore, especially outside of him piloting.” 

Felix let his voice trail off at the end, still trying to make sense of the information he had yet to fully internalize and process.

Sylvain's heart stopped for the briefest of moments at the mention of Glenn, his brow furrowing with confusion. 

"Fe..." he trailed off, unsure what to say. The memory of Felix holding him against the wall while he told the whole awful story came back, and he suppressed a shudder. It was a small comfort to know that Miklan hadn't touched him physically, but Sylvain felt rage bubbling within him at the very idea that Felix had been hurt emotionally--and terribly, at that.

He pressed a steady stream of kisses  to the top of Felix's head, his cheek, anywhere he could reach. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

No, he didn’t want to talk about it because if he thought about it too much, he would think about how terrible Miklan was regarding Sylvain and how fucking idiotic and braindead the big fucker was because his Sylvain was perfect and the best Sylvain he could be right now and-

...but he did want to ask about something that was said.

Felix turned his head, kissing Sylvain back with a peck. "I don't really want to talk that much about it, but I did want to ask." 

He shifted, turning on his back, rolling to his opposite side, now facing Sylvain. 

"Did you know anything about Miklan knowing Glenn? He said...they were close and had sex more than once and..." He paused. "He said Glenn wanted more."

Looking up into Sylvain's eyes, as if they were up past their bedtime, Felix spoke quietly under the covers. 

"You know Miklan. Do you think there's any truth to what he said?" He knew Glenn and he knew he couldn't rule it out.

Words failed Sylvain and his eyes widened in something rapidly approaching horror as the words sank in. 

"No, Fe, I had no idea," he responded softly. "I didn't even know they knew each other. Glenn never came around and to be honest, the first time I saw him was...was the funeral. The only time."

Miklan had been notably absent that day, though he'd been a bastard for years at that point so Sylvain hadn't given it a second thought. The idea of his older brother touching anyone like that made him feel ill, but to know it was Felix's older brother felt like betrayal. But if he knew his own brother--and he did--everything Felix said, tracked.

Knowing Sylvain as he did, watching him as closely as he did, there was nothing Felix would miss. Brows furrowed, there was no mistaking it, he told the truth, his reactions, words, and tone all lining up in nothing but utter symmetry. 

"Yeah," he intoned quietly as he listened. When Sylvain continued speaking on what should have been just a small detail, a  simple throwaway comment, Felix's eyes glazed over, his features and body all going slack.

Of course, the funeral was likely the place where most people who weren't around had seen Glenn without his visor. Copious amounts of pictures had lined the funeral parlor's halls. A multitude of pictures, more than Felix had ever seen of both Rodrigue and Glenn were blown up and pasted all around for all to see. By their twin coffins there had been a large poster-sized picture of the two in their dress uniforms. Were it not for the thin mustache Rodrigue had refused to shave and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, they would have looked identical. And now, were he to dress similarly, he might have mirrored Glenn even more convincingly.

But it was the pictures.

Both nearly covered with large casket sprays, the twin caskets sat closed and empty.

It took over an entire week for the triple occurrence to be cleared and the subsequent recovery efforts to be completed. Anyone watching their transmission would tell you outright that there would be no body to recover for the pilot in the right hemisphere. One moment Rodrigue was there and the next, only splattered blood and scattered gore.

But Glenn? Oh they had found a body. Wrist broken, still tethered and trapped within his left hemisphere, there was no question. Yet, procedures were still procedures. When Felix had to confirm the identity, much to the absolute horror of the others present, he had laughed. He laughed wildly in the coroner's office, suddenly struck by the idea that for the first time ever in his life, the only time he wouldn't be confused with his brother was also the last.

Glenn's body was nigh unrecognizable. In life, he had an arresting face and striking eyes. In death, his plump, rosy lips as well as his amber eyes were gone, eaten away. Putrefaction having long set in, the corpse and what amount of remaining flesh had turned a gnarled green and sickening black. The corpse was a bloated mess and the smell... oh the smell.

Felix had managed to pause his fit of laughter long enough to do as he was requested, identifying the husk-if something so waterlogged could be referred to in that manner-once again overtaken by his laughter all the way back into the foyer of the morgue. By the time he made it out of the doorway, his manic laughter had ebbed away.

He vomited in the parking lot.

Sylvain sensed more than saw the horrible transformation Felix-- his Felix--was undergoing as he waded through a sea of memories. While he knew the story and had seen flashes in the Drift, Felix had been completely in control each time. But now? When he looked down into the lovely amber eyes he adored, there was something restless behind them, as if all the humanity had been stripped away and something else was looking out.

There was nothing he could do but murmur soft, reassuring nothings in Felix's ear as he held him tightly to his chest. A nagging feeling of guilt began to creep up on him; how many times had he wished his own brother dead? And yet here they were--here Felix was, desperately wishing he could have his big brother back.

"It's okay," he soothed. "I'm here. You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but...please don't go where I can't follow you."

The pressure at his back and the compression of his chest caused him to take a sharp inhale of air. Somehow, it allowed a breakthrough through the miasma that was his subconscious, alerting Felix to the present. He nestled in close, his arms, once at his sides, now clung tightly around Sylvain. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, a shuddering breath, shaking him. “Fuck.”

He bent his head down in a sad attempt at grounding himself in the present, in this moment with Sylvain. And again, here he found himself staring back at a familiar darkness between their pressed bodies.

Felix wanted to laugh. And Miklan had called Sylvain broken.

"There you are." 

Sylvain's voice was uncertain; he wasn't sure if the increased contact was a good sign or not, and it was the not knowing that unsettled him most. While he longed to lift Felix's chin so he could see his face, Sylvain knew that what the man needed was to hide, at least for a little while. He began to hum softly under his breath while the lyrics from the shower danced to his consciousness : scared to death.

He both did and did not want to know the full extent of whatever Miklan had said to fuck Felix up so badly. But more pressing than that was a persistent desire to hunt him down and properly fuck him up. Sylvain took another deep breath to calm himself while he rubbed small circles on Felix's back.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a rushed whisper. “I’m sorry, I just…” he broke off, no words coming out. “…was out in the weeds.”

Grasping onto Sylvain harder, Felix was appreciative for his effortless muscular build. More than aesthetics or anything he found attractive about his physique, Felix loved having a hard, solid foundation against him, something he could grip and hold onto with gusto…and a desperation as if turned out. He tilted his head up as his resonant voice and tone hit him in a familiarity that was all their own.

Looking into Sylvain’s eyes, all he found was care and tenderness. 

“I don’t talk about Glenn a lot and it just reminded me of some of the reasons why.” 

He didn’t know how much he was willing or could share, at that, but at least he could do this much.

"I know," Sylvain soothed. "It was something that never should've happened. You should never have had to see that."

It occurred to him that for the first time, he was more disturbed by Glenn and Rodrigue's deaths than by the ruthless beatings that had ensued in his own home. With his free hand, Sylvain reached out to cup Felix's cheek with a delicate touch. He had decided from day one that he would never press Felix for details; he deserved the courtesy and care that Sylvain himself had found lacking after the incident with Ruined Sky all those years ago. All he could do was try to impart adoration and safety into every movement, every gaze.

After his dissociative spell and complete breakdown in communication, Sylvain only responded with patience and a tender hand. Felix gazed up at the man as his cheek was cupped, listening to the gentle voice that served only to pacify, not patronize like so many others before.

Never before had Felix ever felt so cared for and so secure, as if he were something precious and something special to protect. His gaze turned watery as his vision began to blur. A small, strangled hiccup escaping from somewhere in the back of his throat. 

"I want to share it with you," he said, voice watery. "The fear and the pain, I want you to know my everything. But I can't do it yet," he croaked miserably. "I'm so sorry I can't...I'm not strong enough." 

Tears began streaming down his face in earnest.

Sylvain continued to make soft, comforting sounds as he watched Felix cry. While he had initially felt helpless and despondent at not being able to take away Felix's pain, a sense of comfort had set in--they loved each other enough to be vulnerable, and Sylvain of all people was able to console him. For just a moment, Sylvain allowed himself to think that maybe he wasn't as broken as everyone thought.

He continued to brush the steady stream of tears away with slow passes of his thumbs across Felix's cheeks, tangling his fingers in his hair and kneading the way a cat might. 

"I've got you," he murmured. "You're so much stronger than you know. I wish I could carry this for you but I can't." The words tasted bitter. "But I can be here. And I will, for as long as you want me."

The skillful presses along his scalp and against his cheeks were calming in a way Felix had no way of describing. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced and for once in his life, he wanted to be selfish with another. Sylvain and the support he gave so willingly and freely made Felix want to monopolize his time and it was an ugly thought, but for now at least with no other demands of him, maybe he could be selfish and bask in all that Sylvain saw fit to give to him.

“I don’t want you to carry it. And I don’t want to carry it alone either.” It was a self-centered complaint that he expressed, one broken man to another. “But if that’s an offer, you’re staying with me until I die.” Felix tucked his head down as a dark chuckle shook his chest. “You’ve had practice with it. Almost did it once already.”

"I know." Sylvain's mind spun with the awful memory of Fulcrum, of seeing Felix in the infirmary for weeks, very much near-death. "And I'm not going to let that happen again. I promise you, Fe."

And he meant every word. He would sooner be injured, maimed, torn limb-from-limb if it meant keeping Felix safe. He slid his thumbs down to Felix's jawline and guided his face upward with a gentle touch, following it with an equally gentle kiss. That he-- Sylvain --of all people could have this was more than he'd ever dared to hope for. After a lifetime of being told he was unworthy, that he was fucking up, that he was useless, he felt incredibly selfish. He would fight tooth and nail to hang on to what they had, because it was worth having.

There was no resistance as Felix welcomed the gentle press and pull that guided his chin higher. He shut his eyes when their lips met, imprinting the memory of how Sylvain felt in this moment. He whimpered, features faltering momentarily before pressing himself up higher and more firmly into the kiss.

After a moment, he pulled back, speaking with a tremulous voice. 

“I love you, Sylvain.” 

Felix felt overwhelmed. Never had he thought he could say those words or would even have a care or desire to say them at all. But now? He could barely get them out, nearly overwhelmed with the nearly suffocating feeling of absolute adoration he had for the man at his side and just how fucking lucky he was for it. 

The whimper tugged at Sylvain's heart and he reciprocated the increased intensity, passing his tongue over Felix's lips in an attempt to provide comfort, contact, instead of to seduce. He gave a slow, contented sigh and rubbed at the back of Felix's neck, noting the tension of his muscles with displeasure.

"I love you, too, Fe. Always. And nothing will change that. Nothing. I love your light and your dark," he added, parroting what Felix had said when Sylvain himself had fallen to pieces in his arms. The expression of gratitude pained him and he drew Felix even closer, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against his chest. "Forever. Endlessly. Nothing will tear us apart, ever again."

With Sylvain’s chin on his head and pulled in close, Felix let out a contented sigh. He had learned quickly that while many of the things he had discovered with Sylvain were amazing, there was little better than this-being held so thoroughly, so completely, physically and emotionally wrapped in comfort and love.

And yet, even as his body reacted to Sylvain’s warmth, nothing was expected or demanded of him. Felix simply laid their as his heart hammered in his chest, finally slowing to a regular pace, once again, at Sylvain’s steady guidance. Nuzzling ever closer, Felix repeated in agreement, “Nothing or no one.” 

Whether they were living or dead, it made no difference. “Partners to the end.”

Chapter 66: Second Most Dangerous Game

Summary:

Sylvain was not surprised but entirely pleased to learn that Felix was a brat. He'd long suspected that his fiancé had a sassy side, but to get to actually witness it? It was a goddamn praise and Sylvain was more than happy to remain on his knees in reverence.

But first, he planned to take Felix apart.

Chapter Text

Nice Cock. Perfect. 12/10.

Sylvain texted Felix from across the room, grinning all the while at the low-resolution meme he'd found, courtesy of the spotty Internet connection they had access to at the base. He looked over at his fiancé and winked boldly. While the rating was his own addition, he didn't regret it in the slightest. In fact, he gazed brazenly over at Felix, eyes scanning him head to toe.

"Hey, Fe," he began casually. "We haven't really had a bachelor party yet. And since we're both men, maybe we could have a joint one. You have anything in mind?"

The vibration of Felix’s phone directed his attention from the book he had been nodding off to while reading for the past ten minutes. Picking it up, his eyes scanned the screen, to Sylvain, and then conveniently back again to his screen. Were he closer, the stupid meme might get him a swift smack followed by some flirtatious action. But since that wasn’t the case, Felix split the difference.

Eyes dead set on Sylvain, he grabbed his crotch, cupping and stroking the outline of his soft length dreadfully slow. A sly, devious look fell across his features before he shrugged and turned his attention. 

“A joint bachelor party might be fun. But I don’t have any ideas. I figured we could drink and I’d just sleep where I fell. Something fancy like that.”

Sylvain bit his lip to hold back a whimper at the visual, unconsciously flicking his tongue out to wet the plump flesh. His eyes locked on Felix's hand and he shivered lightly. Seeing his partner enjoy himself, whether at his hands or Felix's own, never failed to get him extremely riled up.

"That doesn't sound half bad," Sylvain responded, casually drifting a fingertip up the midline of his abdomen. "But what about before you inevitably pass out?"

Felix shrugged, his eyes clearly lingering on Sylvain’s far too casual draping of his hand. “I didn’t think you’d be opposed to the idea.”

Not one to be outdone, he turned his eyes back to the book, a general ease and nonchalance about his actions that were anything but. Felix’s hands grazed over his waistline, down his inseam where he felt himself from root to tip. 

“Before? I don’t know. I didn’t really think about having one to be honest. I’ve never gone to one either.” He shrugged his shoulders, unbothered. “What about you?” At this, his question drew Felix’s bright amber eyes to Sylvain’s gaze. “What do you want it to look like?”

"I just want to see you have a good time," Sylvain answered honestly. While he knew that Felix was only pretending to be absorbed in his book, he still felt a small, sharp stab of annoyance. He crossed the room and sat down next to Felix's feet and looped an arm behind his calves to draw him closer.

"And," he breathed, pressing a lingering kiss to Felix's knee, "I thought that maybe we could pick up where we left off with Dimitri."

Easily giving up the farce of reading in the face of the man’s arrival, Felix put the book aside before reaching down, tangling his fingers in Sylvain’s thick auburn locks. 

A look of surprise, followed by a smirk spread across his face as he finished speaking his piece. “Is that something– someone,” he corrected, “that you’d like?” His bright eyes were inquisitive and sharp as he curled his fist in Sylvain’s hair.

Sylvain whined softly in the back of his throat at the gentle tug to his hair, meeting Felix's gaze with dark, liquid eyes. 

"Yes," he breathed, walking his fingers up the inseam of Felix's pants. "You know I've been curious about him for a while now. And I know you've been thinking about it ever since we scared him off."

He mouthed at Felix's clothed knee, not breaking eye contact, as he contemplated his next move. "Am I wrong?"

Felix spread his legs incrementally as his breath hitched with Sylvain’s wet mouth warming the spot on his knee through the thick fabric of his pants. He swallowed hard before speaking.

“I’ll stop you when you’re wrong.” 

And Sylvain on his knees was never wrong.

“So,” he continued, curling his fingers, fully scratching Sylvain’s scalp as he knew his fiancé loved. “Since we already scared him off once, what do you think we should do about it then?”

Sylvain's lashes fluttered and he exhaled with a slow, shaky sigh, leaning into the scratches the way a cat might. 

"Well, I'd say that he has a pretty good idea of what we want now," he began. "And he's certainly had some time to think about it. If what you said was true, he's probably been doing plenty of thinking about it."

His fingers stopped just shy of Felix's crotch, hand splaying wide to wrap around the back of his upper thigh. Not breaking eye contact, he purred, "What do you think we should do about it?"

The idea of Dima thinking of them late at night combined with the fingers wrapped around, dimpling into his thigh was enough to send a shiver through his system. Felix took his lip between his teeth, not quite stifling a breathy inhale.

“I think,” he began shakily, pressing into the hand at his thighs. “We should invite him to our celebrations…and end the night with him.” 

As the fantasy began to take shape into a viable idea, a ghost of a smirk curled at the corner of Felix’s lips. He lifted his leg, notching his foot between Sylvain’s legs, not stopping as the top of his bare foot brushed against Sylvain’s crotch…and then again, if anything was misunderstood, ensuring the movement wasn’t anything but purposeful.

Sylvain shivered in response and subtly shifted his hips forward, seeking further contact. He began to knead into the hard muscle of Felix's thigh as he chewed at his lip, pretending to be deep in thought. Though his expression remained innocent and unassuming enough, his free hand began its treacherous ascent, coming to rest lightly against the bulge of Felix's cock.

"I like that idea very much. But we should probably come up with a plan for what we're going to do with him, don't you think?" 

It was probably the first time in his entire life Sylvain had made preparations for anything, but it was certainly worth it.

“You’re right,” Felix agreed. That he moved his hips slightly, his length fully in Sylvain’s hand now was mere coincidence and definitely not an acknowledgment of the man’s wandering touches.

Felix hummed softly, eyes lifted, seemingly lost in thought as his foot shifted forward and back underneath Sylvain. 

“I’ve never done anything like this,” he began as a subtle red came to his cheeks as he recalled his crash course introduction to the idea. “But, I think I would really enjoy the feeling of both pairs of hands on me.”

"I'm sure you would," Sylvain responded, the hand on the back of Felix's thigh moving up to his hip to stroke at his tattoo. "I was with you when you got this, after all. It looks good on you...I can't wait for Dimitri to see it properly."

As far as foreplay went, this was pretty goddamn weird even for Sylvain, and he couldn't remember doing anything like it before. Fortunately, Sylvain more than enjoyed 'weird,' so he continued to think aloud, voice resonating dark and sultry in the small room. 

"Why don't you tell me how you'd want us to touch you?"

Felix’s muscles contracted nearly curling immediately under Sylvain’s touch to his shield. His grip on his hair loosened, sliding down to stroke at the side of his cheek as he looked adoringly at the man.

“If Dima likes it half as much as I think you do, it’ll be worth it.”

Felix darted his tongue out, wetting his lips as he continued the repetitive motion and pressure of his foot. 

“Just to touch first…the places that I like you at the most.” He kept his eyes on Sylvain as he spoke. “My thighs,” he pressed against Sylvain’s hand for emphasis. “My chest,” he breathed as his free hand snuck up under his shirt, pinching at his budding nipple.

Noting with keen interest how strongly Felix had responded to the simple contact, Sylvain repeated it, more firmly this time. Watching Felix touch himself--and react to his own touches--nearly took his breath away. He drifted his hands lower to grip Felix's upper thighs, fingers digging in deep, then stretched out on top of him to capture a nipple in his mouth.

"Like this?" Sylvain's lips and teeth and tongue worked over the sensitive bud, coaxing it to full hardness. In his mind's eye, he allowed himself to picture what it might be like to actually share Felix, and with a common goal at that. "Or do you want more?"

As Sylvain’s head rose, so did Felix’s hand, gathering and pulling his shirt up allowing him unfettered access. And yes, Sylvain knew that he enjoyed it quite like that. But Felix refused to respond to that prompt when another took precedent.

He moaned softly as he arched his back, voice breathy. 

“More, yes. Hands, lips, tongues…” 

He took his bundled shirt in his mouth—as he had once done with one of Sylvain’s—as he opted to direct both his hands to Sylvain, kneading at the taut cords of muscle at the back of his neck and down his shoulders. Voice warm and muffled, he practically purred in contentment from his well-practiced ministrations.

Never had Sylvain longed to have extra hands until this moment, with Felix pinned beneath him and moaning so sweetly in response to his every touch. 

"Well," he breathed, moving slightly to capture the other, neglected nipple between his teeth, "I guess we might have to push up the timeline a little bit."

He drifted his hands inward, thumbs pressing in at either side of Felix's cock. He wondered at how each time they joined, he learned more about the other man's body. And he thought he'd never tire of it. The steady stroking motions of the tip of his tongue grew more insistent and he let out his own soft whimper at the sensation.

Like plucking at an instrument, under Sylvain’s skilled ministrations, Felix immediately responded to further stimulation. Arching and pressing his chest against Sylvain’s mouth, he let out a hiss of air.

With Sylvain’s firm press, Felix likewise reacted, canting his hips upwards, direly seeking friction. 

“What do you mean?” Felix panted, eyes down at Sylvain glazed over in lust as his fingers curled, kneading deeper into his solid muscle.

"I meant that you seem pretty desperate for it, ever since you got a little taste." 

Sylvain arched his body backward, denying Felix the friction he desired. He fully planned to give him what he wanted...but not yet. He licked a long stripe down the center of Felix's abdomen with a quiet moan, then looked up at him with a devilish gaze. "But maybe I want to make you beg just a little bit."

The tip of his tongue was joined by his mouth as he sucked a vicious bruise onto Felix's unmarked hip, lips working expertly against his flesh with the slightest hint of teeth. When he was satisfied with his work, he moved to Felix's navel, where he flicked his tongue against the dip.

Oh, how Felix hated the pitiful whimper that tumbled out of his worthless throat when Sylvain pulled away from him. A look of worry, of guilt, of annoyance, all followed in the other’s stead, finally being replaced with one of uncertainty.

He had been fully prepared to offer any assurances he needed to Sylvain that there was nothing beyond their discussion and that wanting Dima in this manner wasn’t anything beyond when the word ‘beg’ registered. It was at this point that Felix realized they were playing a new game, a different sort of test of wills. Now, it should be noted that Felix himself knew he wouldn’t outlast Sylvain, but he knew he was stubborn enough to try.

Sylvain’s talented tongue, as always, drew out a groan from Felix as he sunk down lower on his seat, watching a master at his craft. But as part of his response to Sylvain’s desire to make him beg, he removed his hands completely, ceasing all his own purposeful contact. 

“All right,” he said as he folded his hands behind his head as he inhaled and exhaled a shuddering breath. “Go on, then. Make me beg.” 

Felix’s amber orbs were trained on Sylvain’s roguish smirk as he tightened his grip. He would need all the restraint he could muster.

All at once, several things happened: Sylvain's breath caught, his pupils blew, and he tore his mouth away to pant lightly, involuntarily at Felix's bossy tone. This was not what he'd expected, but having the tables turned on him like this? It was intoxicating. He lifted a hand to thumb at Felix's lip briefly, looking into his eyes.

"Demanding, aren't we? Especially for someone who's completely at my mercy," Sylvain mused, his other hand moving between Felix's legs to cup his balls, thumb rubbing lightly at the side of his covered shaft. He leaned closer, still keeping a careful distance between their bodies, and bit down at Felix's lip to worry it between his teeth. The movements of his hand remained soft and steady, barely a whisper where he knew Felix wanted it most.

Through a herculean effort, he somehow managed to stay still, nonreactive when he wanted to practically swallow Sylvain whole as he took his lips into his mouth. With his mouth slack, Felix extended his head, leaning further back until his lip pulled out of Sylvain’s pearly white teeth with a pop.

Setting back down, Felix grit his teeth together in an effort to tamp down his normal… everything. He settled, able to give Sylvain a particularly unaffected look as he thought of the coldest of showers and all the way back to the day he saw The Miracle of Birth in school. In tandem concert, he was able to ignore Sylvain’s expert touches.

“Completely at your mercy?” Felix arched a brow as he asked the question. “That’s not half as persuasive as you want it to be.” 

He made a show of looking Sylvain up and down, from his dilated pupils, to his parted lips, to the length outlined against his zipper. 

“Especially,” the word rolled off his tongue as he licked his lips, focusing back at his nearly blacked-out gaze, “coming from a man on his knees.”

Sylvain was not surprised but entirely pleased to learn that Felix was a brat. He'd long suspected that his fiancé had a sassy side, but to get to actually witness it? It was a goddamn privilege and Sylvain was more than happy to remain on his knees in reverence.

But first, he planned to take Felix apart.

He sat back on his heels and slid his hands down Felix's thighs to stop at a decidedly unsexy body part: the knees. The only problem was, even Felix's fucking knees were sexy. And even worse was the fact that now, Felix knew it, knew exactly what power he had over Sylvain. He nibbled his lip and thought about the ugliest woman he'd ever slept with, keeping his own legs together to resist the temptation to rut against Felix, their game be damned.

"I've made you beg before," Sylvain reminded him, tutting softly under his breath. "And you were so good for me, so obedient. What happened?" His lips curled upward in a lazy smile.

That Sylvain was putting any space between them annoyed him to such a degree that he had to remind himself that this was still part of their unspoken game. So, Felix played his part.

With Sylvain’s hands back only on his knees, Felix looked down at him disinterestedly. And with his sharp features and even more pointed brow raise, generally speaking, he was rather convincing. 

“That was then,” he said dismissively. Felix crossed his legs, “I don’t feel like being obedient tonight. And I see no reason why I should be.” 

As petulant and idiotic as it was, acting out like this felt like a secret thrill.

Sylvain immediately pushed Felix's legs apart again, sliding his hands inward to hold his knees apart. He felt a flash of annoyance and realized just how good Felix was at baiting him. But while Felix had the drive, Sylvain had more than ample experience in teasing a partner.

"If you don't feel like it, I guess I'll have to make you, won't I?" 

Sylvain briefly removed one hand to pop the button on Felix's pants and unzip his fly, only to return them to his knees, his eyes a challenge.

At the unexpected, yet welcomed intrusion, Felix forgot to tamp down the smirk that curled at his mouth, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Invigorated, Felix felt more confident and comfortable than he ever had in their shared endeavors. He drawled, “Make me, was it?” 

He squeezed his thighs a bit, only to be shifted apart at Sylvain’s desired press. He met the man’s determined gaze with one of his own. 

“I guess you should probably get started on whatever you have in mind before I get bored and fall asleep.”

Sylvain had to bite into his lip again to keep a sly half-smile at bay, not wanting to show his hand just yet. 

"It's cute that you think you'd be able to fall asleep like this." 

He inched his own knee closer until it was nestled firmly against Felix's cock...and then held perfectly, maddeningly still.

Meanwhile, his hands began to wander again and he traced the outline of Felix's newly-healed tattoo with a fingertip and a smirk. His other came up to wind Felix's hair firmly around his fingers and roughly jerked his head back. 

"Try to fall asleep now." 

His fingers twitched deep within the silky strands and he gave another tug for good measure.

Felix’s eyes lazily followed Sylvain’s movements as he made his way up and above him. The knee slotted against him was a welcomed sensation that he would have moved against but for the coy answer that accompanied the motion.

When Sylvain ripped back his head, a gasp was equally ripped from his throat as he groaned, settling into the tight, insistent tug of his hair. As if it wasn’t true enough before, no, he definitely wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep.

Hands now cast out to his sides, and against every fucking instinct he had, Felix stopped himself from grabbing at Sylvain in any material way. Instead, he looked down with dark eyes as he let his hands wander his own body. One hand circled the new, soft skin of his healed tattoo, the other, back to his pert nipple. 

In a bratty voice Felix wished didn’t come so easily to him, he commented mildly, “You have my attention, so now what?”

Were he not so laser-focused on his mission, Sylvain might have made some sound in response to the breathtaking visual before him: Felix stretched out long and unashamed on the bed, touching himself in all the ways Sylvain knew he liked. He shifted forward under the guise of getting a better grip on Felix's hair and gave another yank, then began to move his knee in a subtle back-and-forth motion.

"I better have your attention," he murmured. "At least that pretty mouth of yours is finally acknowledging what this is doing." 

The smirk intensified as Sylvain cast his eyes down at Felix's straining erection, then met his gaze once more.

When yanked back, Felix arched more with Sylvain’s harsh pull. With each tug, he felt himself strain more and more against his pants, silently grateful for the pressure that rocked against him giving him the slightest bit of relief.

Though thrilled with the results, Felix had no intentions of dropping their game right in the throes of it. He watched Sylvain study him lasciviously as he met him easily with defiant eyes. 

“Oh please,” he sighed as he strained to keep his features as calm as he could. “You act as though you’re not getting the same thrill.” 

Felix shifted forward, hands crawling up Sylvain’s shirt circling both nipples, brushing lightly over the stiff buds.

Sylvain wanted to shudder beneath Felix's skillful touch, to show him exactly how much of a thrill he was getting, but doing so would mean conceding defeat. Instead, he grabbed Felix's wrists firmly and pinned them above his head to the bed, not unlike their very first time.

"No touching," he said sternly, lips tightening. "Or I'll turn you over my knee and then turn your gorgeous ass red." 

He pressed forward more insistently and leaned down, abdomen curled to prevent Felix from seeking further contact. Then he dipped his head and closed his lips over Felix's collarbone, fully intending to leave another bruise.

He clamped down, grinding his teeth together as Sylvain anted up and rose the stakes even fucking higher. At his newest restraint and even less touch, actual annoyance started to slip into his conscience.

Held down and not allowed to touch, but only allowed to be feasted on, the inequity of it all made Felix’s eye twitch. He chomped down harder, refusing to voice the whimpers and groans that Sylvain was drawing out of him as he spoke through his grit teeth. 

“No touching ‘cause you can’t handle it. Got it.” 

Sylvain’s head by his face, Felix couldn’t help the needy lean and quick nuzzle into his lovely hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp against his cheek.

"No touching because you're being a fucking brat and you don't deserve to touch me." 

Sylvain nipped cruelly at the darkening skin as he sat back up. He released Felix's wrists but gave him a dangerous look in exchange that was both a warning and a challenge.

Rising to his knees, Sylvain peeled off his shirt and ran his hands down the length of his body, fingertips dancing over each hard ridge of muscle. Touching Felix was too close to giving him what he wanted, and it was perilous for Sylvain as well. He figured the next best thing was to give Felix a show, and he took a nipple between his fingers and rolled it, moaning lightly for effect.

The whimper that Sylvain’s words pulled was masked with the timing of his teeth biting down on what was sure to be bruised skin. The same, however, couldn’t be said about the look of shock that passed his face at the words spoken.

‘No touching because you’re being a fucking brat and you don’t deserve to touch me.’

The dark tone replayed in Felix’s head until another one, a familiar one he had heard only days prior joined in with a chorus all on its own. Miklan’s voice and his words resurfaced all at once, joining in the cacophony.

‘Your pathetic brother wanted more…as if he was worth loving.’

‘Chased after it relentlessly, almost until the day he died.’

‘Always wanting more, more, more, whether in or out of bed. Did you have any idea how needy he could be?’

Felix’s eyes turned glassy. Even looking at Sylvain, who was obviously playing a part in their continued game—clearly not saying horrible shit for cruelty’s sake—yet, that knowledge did nothing in the moment to the stem the deluge of nastiness that echoed through his head. It was all too familiar. And right then, in that moment, it was all too real.

With his arms freed, Felix shielded his face turning away as he unsuccessfully tried to curl in on himself, legs and hips caught under Sylvain.

At first, Sylvain mistook the way Felix's eyes glazed over as a sign that he was gone, that victory was within his grasp. But when his arm came up to cover his face, Sylvain realized that something was horribly wrong. He sprang off of Felix immediately to lie beside him on the bed, gathering him into his arms.

"Fe, look at me. Are you okay?" 

It was a stupid question, to be sure; Felix was clearly most definitely not okay. He pressed a triad of worried kisses to the other man's forehead and tried again. 

"I love you. I'm here. Please come back to me."

When he felt the weight lift off him, Felix continued to curl into himself, pulling away from the broad expanse that Sylvain left completely open, just for him. Even with Sylvain’s quick actions, Felix was well on his way to allow the harmful thoughts in his head to continue to snowball.

Even through the kisses, Felix was alone in his mind. His muscles contracted as he let out a sob. Assaulted by the voices that replayed in his mind, he was sad and embarrassed and only had himself to blame. It was fucking pitiful. No, better yet, he was pathetic.

In the darkness of his closed eyelids, Felix saw Miklan’s sneering face…until it turned into Sylvain’s, their voices melding into one, making their words indistinguishable.

Pathetic, undeserving, needy.

Everyone did always say he was just like Glenn, right?

Chapter 67: Fragile Feelings

Summary:

“I can touch you, right?”

Sylvain's heart shattered into a million little pieces at the hesitant note in Felix's voice and he made a pained sound at the back of his throat.

Chapter Text

Something was horribly wrong.

While Sylvain had seen Felix break down before and even turn inward, he had always been able to get him back. But now, it seemed like every movement he made, every word he said only made things worse. As Felix curled into himself, Sylvain followed, arms tightening around his trembling form. He craned his neck forward and down until he felt the strain, seeking further contact.

"Felix," he said softly. "I love you, Fe. I'm here. It's okay. I want you to come back to me...please?"

Sylvain hated how ineffectual he was, how his own voice broke on the final word. He hated how he couldn't do anything to help and above all, he hated himself for inadvertently causing this breakdown. He rubbed Felix's back slowly and counted his own breaths, keeping the rhythm slow and steady.

Turning his face to the side, Felix felt fat teardrops roll freely down his cheek as he moved, focusing on the man beside him. The awful amalgamation that had been Miklan and Sylvain wasn’t the person that laid at his side. No, it was just Sylvain, his Sylvain, wide-eyed with trembling lips.

As if confirming the reality of his visual, Felix reached out hesitantly, fingertips extended, yet not quite grazing Sylvain’s chin.

“I can touch you, right?”

Sylvain's heart shattered into a million little pieces at the hesitant note in Felix's voice and he made a pained sound at the back of his throat. He leaned toward Felix's hand, closing the distance and nuzzling his chin against his fiancé's palm.

"You can always touch me," he said softly, soothingly. "Always, Fe. And...you deserve the world, okay? Please believe me when I say that."

As Sylvain closed the distance he couldn’t, wouldn’t span, Felix let out a choked sob as he pulled Sylvain greedily to him. As if he needed the contact to survive, Felix clung to Sylvain like his life had depended on it. Needy.

“I’m sorry,” Felix said into the scant space between their chests. He repeated the phrase over and over again, some broken with sobs that wracked his body, other times, strung together without breath; a broken mantra for a broken man.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," was Sylvain's only response, over and over as he pulled Felix close to his chest and began to rock him gently. Though he had some idea now of the content of what Miklan had said, the effect clearly went beyond mere words. He felt his blood boil as he recalled his brother's cruelty and took several deep breaths to calm down; Felix needed him to be anchored now, not preparing to dig two graves.

“I ruined this and…and I didn’t want to. I was enjoying myself and you were too.”

Felix felt himself flag heavily under his words as the reality of the situation crashed down upon him, crushing his eagerness and self-respect. Felix had let the words of another affect him so profoundly that he, in turn, affected Sylvain.

Clinging to Sylvain, now more than ever through the tears that rolled down his cheeks, Felix pressed his lips into Sylvain’s heated skin, peppering kisses to his clavicle.

"You didn't ruin anything. If anything, he did."

Sylvain's arms tightened protectively until he was nearly crushing their bodies together. His expression turned to something dark and murderous and he pressed his cheek to the side of Felix's head to conceal his face. But he kept making the same soothing sounds, brought back to the moment by the shivering kisses and trail of steady tears.

Felix wiped awkwardly at his eyes, a combination of practically fruitless swipes and Sylvain’s protruding pectorals.

All of Felix’s breath left his lungs in Sylvain’s slow, all-encompassing, backbreaking squeeze. He looked up only to find Sylvain’s turned face.

“Look at me,” he commanded in a breathless sigh.

Sylvain did as he was told, features relaxing as he looked down at his partner with gentle eyes. His brows knitted together and his lips parted for a moment as though he were about to say something, but his words failed him.

Instead, he bent his head to brush his lips over Felix's forehead with a sigh of his own.

"I'm here."

Felix reached up, tilting Sylvain’s head down even further towards him.  He couldn’t tell what exactly had gone through Sylvain’s mind, but Felix knew one thing for certain: it was no place he wanted Sylvain to remain.

“I love you,” he said, raw with sincerity as he pressed harder against Sylvain’s larger body. Entwining their legs, Felix continued, “I want to be good for you.”

"You are, and you always will be."

While the statement felt hopelessly inadequate to express the true depths of his feelings, Sylvain meant every syllable. He curled his legs around Felix's and rubbed them gently together, his lips curving upward into a smile. 

"And I love you back."

Chapter 68: Lady in Red

Chapter Text

Edelgard von Hresvelg stood primly in the entrance of the transportation convoy. Calm, inexpressive visage, her lavender eyes were unfocused as she looked forward. She wore her snow white hair pinned back in a tight array of twisted braids, her delicate wrist in the holding strap dangling from the roof; her knuckles, white and taut as she gripped unforgivingly at the leather loop as the vessel came to a gentle stop—she had arrived.

The return orders were set. It had been just over three years since she was reassigned to the Southern front of the jaeger program’s division. It had been two years, one month, three days since she had last received correspondence from one Dorothea Arnault; it had been two years, seven months, and two days since Edelgard had penned back a response.

Beyond that…it had been two years, ten months, and fifteen days since she had been told, assured by Dorothea in a sonorous voice—that never failed to sway—that this reassignment was a boon to her career; this was no setback, just another necessary stepping stone on her journey to success. And in the moment all those years, months, and days ago, Edelgard hadn’t cared.

Yes, a multitude of successes had found her. But for what? Achieving her ambitions in the jaeger fleet by climbing the ranks becoming the youngest fleet captain felt hollow at each rung. Yet, when the opportunity for advancement came at a new post opening on the Pacific? Edelgard didn’t hesitate to offer her name for consideration.

The position in the Pacific was truly a promotion, but Edelgard would be remiss if she credited her profession with being the driving force behind her application. Questions regarding Dorothea swam in her mind as Edelgard was brought back to attention as the airlocks  on the door hissed into life, opening to her waiting retinue on the bridge, greeting the base’s newest commander.

Releasing her tight fist, Edelgard returned their salutes with a mild look as she stepped forward, on to the base.

Meanwhile, one Dorothea Arnault was anxiously stalking the hallways near the bridge, though she considered herself excellent at remaining calm. Top-notch. Certainly  better than Sylvain Goddamn Gautier, whose mind had always been, remained, and would always be an absolute shitstorm to deal with. At least the flirting had stopped, she thought to herself. Especially since...

She took a moment to straighten her clothing--she'd opted to wear civilian garb today, as she had the afternoon off--and inhaled long and slow before stepping onto the bridge. She knew she stuck out like a sore thumb among the recruits in their drab uniforms, but that was precisely the point. For all her surprise, she wanted to look her best--but not too good, nothing to indicate just how hard she was trying.

Surreptitiously slipping in, she made her way through the crowd and ended up somewhere roughly in the middle, slightly toward the front. Her breath caught in her throat and she raised a hand to her chest involuntarily at the sight of her former lover. Edelgard hadn't changed much in the years they'd been apart; her lavender gaze remained as cool and impassive as ever, and it was unnerving to be unable to read her expression.

So instead she waited patiently as the fleet captain began to speak.

Edelgard took a cursory glance at the recruits, offering a nod. 

“Good evening. Thank you for meeting me here. I appreciate the receiving party, but unless the wings of the base have all been rearranged,” she added with a small elegant smile as she spoke, now regarding each with pointed eye contact. “I assure you all, I recall…” 

Edelgard’s voice paused the moment her gaze fell on a tall, statuesque figure that she had known quite well.

“…it all very well.” 

Somehow, she managed to string a cogent thought together without much hesitation. Though it didn’t show on her face, Edelgard felt her pulse quicken as she took in those emerald eyes that had haunted her for so long. She could not afford her gaze to linger, lest she make another mistake. Edelgard continued speaking, shifting her attention to the others.

Though Edelgard's glance was little more than a flash of the beautiful eyes she'd missed so much, Dorothea suddenly found it almost impossible to breathe. She reached up and patted at her hair to cover the telltale flush rapidly spreading over her cheeks, pretending to be preening--far less unusual for her than a blush.

She continued to inch forward throughout Edelgard's speech, ending up slightly left of her five o' clock. When the white-haired woman had finished, Dorothea approached cautiously, though she longed to throw her arms around her and never let her go.

"Edie!" She beamed radiantly, her voice warm and rich. "It's...been a while. How've you been?"

"Ms. Arnault, hello. Yes, it has been a while."

Three years, eighteen days.

When she stopped addressing the crowd, dismissing them with another salute, the cadets slowly dispersed, some lingering as Edelgard approached the brunette.

"I've been busy, but well. And you?" 

At her words, Edelgard did not hide as she looked Dorothea down and back up again. Being 5'2 and in a position of leadership, she was accustomed to taking the measure of people and she did so unabashedly.

"I was unaware they had updated the dress code." That she found her current observation completely pleasant, she did so with no complaints.

"That or,” she offered Dorothea no smile, but there was a mild playfulness in her eyes, "you seem to be off duty."

The use of her formal, government name didn't bother Dorothea in the slightest; during their time together, before it was cut short, she had become accustomed to and even fond of Edelgard's brusque, no-nonsense nature. It made the rare, secret smiles, the brushes of their hand, the wholeness they'd experienced during the Drift worth it.

"Off-duty," she chirped, eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Do you like it?"

Dorothea turned in a slow circle, looking coyly over her shoulder at Edelgard and arching her back just a little. She wondered if it was too forward, if her former lover still felt the same, but Dorothea preferred to live by the motto "fortune favors the bold."

Letting her eyes track Dorothea's deft twirl, Edelgard tilted her head slightly, allowing a slight acknowledgment. 

"Your choices in attire remain lovely."

Shifting in her short boots, Edelgard stood, awkwardly, unsure of how she was supposed to act. The woman who had...not so plainly spurned her, but certainly pushed her away to supposedly bigger and better things stood looking at her with those shimmering eyes, that pleased look, that ever-so-subtle curve to her back...Edelgard shook herself from the trajectory her thoughts were taking her.

"It was kind of you to come see me in person. Seeing a familiar face is...nice."

Dorothea felt her blush deepen at the meager praise, which she knew was monumental coming from Edelgard, who had always been plain-spoken. She turned shimmering emerald eyes on the other woman and pouted her lips into her most appealing smile.

"I missed you terribly," she said simply, getting straight to the point. "But I'm so proud of you, I can't even find the words. If you're willing to take me back, Edie...I'm more than willing to have you.”

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

Though plain-spoken, Edelgard was never one to be at a loss for words as she now found herself. She missed her? Dorothea would take her back? What? Would it truly be so easy? Did...what did that mean? Why did she push away?

Questions abounded, but reality caught up with Edelgard as she realized her mouth had parted, remaining open for the words and the flies that, luckily or not, had yet to come.

"This...how can you..." 

Edelgard sputtered inelegantly as she felt the blush of embarrassment and frustration bloom on her cheeks. Eyes darting to the side, she saw the cadets that had yet to vacate the premises lingering ever closer within earshot.

As if it were a switch, Edelgard spoke in an icily authoritative voice. 

"We will discuss this later. I...please enjoy the rest of your day off." Looking over at the others, she shifted her bag onto her shoulder. "Take me to the General."

Dorothea nodded, disappointed but not at all surprised by the other woman's directive. For as long as Dorothea had known her, Edelgard had been one-minded and resolute in her convictions, always choosing a goal and pursuing it relentlessly until she had achieved it. It was one of the countless things that Dorothea found attractive about her, and so, she began to lead the platinum blonde down the hall to the General's office.

Chapter 69: Old Habits Die Hard

Summary:

No one had used her pet name in...Edelgard did know whether to classify it as the last time she had heard it or read it...but either way, it stung hard.

Chapter Text

"I really have missed you, El," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she used the pet name she had never uttered before in public. "Every day I didn't hear from you was torture." Her intent was not to make her former lover feel bad, but merely to express her true feelings.

No one had used her pet name in...Edelgard did know whether to classify it as the last time she had heard it or read it...but either way, it stung hard . Nor did Edelgard miss the significance of using it in public, outside of the room that they shared, that scant space between Dorothea's plush curves and her own pale, scar-littered skin. She did her best to keep her head straight, eyes forward as they walked down the corridor. But what Edelgard couldn't do was ease her words.

"Is that so?" Edelgard stepped ever-forward; her tone was icy. "Is that why you pushed me away? You certainly look as though you've been leading a tortured existence."

"Yes," Dorothea responded, her lovely voice barely above a whisper. "I waited every single day for a response from you, but I didn't hear anything. I figured it was because you were doing great things, and I felt proud of you every time I thought about you."

Her intention was not to make the other woman feel shame or guilt, but to express gratitude for her willingness to sacrifice their relationship to further her career. Dorothea had recognized long before Edelgard that she was destined for greatness, and that their relationship would only hold her back.

"Is...is it all right if I touch you?" she asked with uncharacteristic shyness. It had been almost two years since they had last seen each other or communicated in any way, and the last thing Dorothea wanted to do was rush things and destroy whatever bond remained between them.

The soft, sweet voice that now spoke to her had filled her mind for years as both a source of inspiration and one of anger. Edelgard wheeled on Edelgard grabbing her by the arm, though not unkindly, leading her into a door from the main hallway...a scenic maintenance closet as it were.

Her eyes were sharp as she spoke. 

"What are you doing, Thea? Are you trying to torment me?" 

The familiar name came easily and Edelgard couldn't afford to focus on it. "I wanted to stay with you, but you convinced me to keep away just for you to continue to reach out."

Edelgard looked up at Dorothea with shining eyes. "Why do you ask such things of me when you...why are you making this difficult?*"

In the dark of the small room, Edelgard looked up at her with a scowl that was more hurt than anger.

"Touch me if you will, but let that be it. You decided things would be this way long before I was ever even given a chance."

"I'm here to put things right," she said matter-of-factly, raising her hand to grip at Edelgard's bicep, considerably more toned now than when they last saw each other.

Dorothea resisted the urge to place her free hand at the other woman's waist to see if she had gained muscle there, too, and instead slipped into the pocket of her own dress.

"I didn't think we'd ever see each other again," she whispered, daring to lean close enough for her breath to ghost against Edelgard's ear. Then, hesitantly: "Do you still feel the same way about me as I feel about you?"

Edelgard's reaction was to lean closer to the sweet puffs of breath at her ear, but with all that had happened and with all that had changed? Her instincts weren't to be trusted.

Edelgard leaned away, pressing Dorothea back, steeling her voice.

"No."

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. 

"You hurt me. I don't see how I could feel the same, much less why you feel anything for me."

Encouraged by the lack of resistance, Dorothea leaned closer, allowing the faint scent of carnation perfume to waft over the shorter woman. But the answer was wholly unexpected and she quickly drew back, hurt evident in her deep green eyes.

"I did it for you,” she said in a low, somber voice. "I wanted you to fly, Edie. And it's been killing me ever since, but...look at you now. I couldn't possibly be more proud, and to have you back here, in the same space as me, even if you're not mine anymore...it's worth it to me."

The scent of carnation filled Edelgard's senses. The perfume had been one of her favorite florals. Had Dorothea remembered? Edelgard allowed the question to linger momentarily before she responded to the devastating words, each one carving a deeper canyon into her heart.

Although shorter, Edelgard had an indisputable presence that made the tallest man feel small. "And I wanted you, Thea." Her voice was uncharacteristically ragged as she spoke, full of emotion, her fists shook in tight fists. "We could've had it all, or at the very least, each other. But you had to go and make a sacrifice I never asked you for."

She regarded Dorothea with nothing but hurt and pain in her eyes.

"I'm glad it was worth it to you at least."

"I know," Dorothea said softly, meeting Edelgard's eyes. "I know that now. And as soon as you left, I immediately regretted it...but it was too late. It would have been selfish for me to ask you to come back, to hold you back."

She took a chance and reached out to graze her fingertips across the shorter woman's face, eyes now watery with unshed tears.

It wasn't what she wanted, but Edelgard turned away from the fingers that Dorothea somehow managed to keep soft and supple after all these years being a pilot. After such decisions and after she had been so cruel, her softness now was the biggest cruelty of them all.

"And this now? Asking me to after you fervently pushed me away without a thought for how it was for me?" Edelgard regarded Dorothea with a hard gaze. "You're being selfish and you've forced my hand now."

Edelgard shook hear head, "Step aside, Ms. Arnault. We are done here."

Chapter 70: Party Planners

Summary:

“So,” he added, amber eyes looking expectantly at Sylvain, “what’s the plan?”

Chapter Text

The brunette's heart broke a little at the rejection and she stepped back, not in cowardice at the blunt tone and words but in defeat. She cast her eyes downward, unable to look at her former lover.

"I know I'm being selfish, Edie," Dorothea said, not abandoning the pet name despite the coldness she was receiving in return. "I should've taken your feelings into account. But...if you want me, I'm here. My heart is yours," she added quietly.

When Edelgard felt the sharp stab to her heart, she internalized the familiar pain, one she knew quite well. She had to turn away. The soft pleading, her quiet voice, those eyes, filled with unshed tears …it was all too much.

Edelgard hitched her bag’s strap tight around her shoulder as she moved past Dorothea with a curt nod. 

“If you’ll excuse me, then.”

She gave herself a moment to look pained in the instant before opening the door back into the main hallway.

Dorothea nodded in resignation and watched Edelgard's retreating back, longing to follow her but knowing from experience that it would be the completely wrong move. Her restless feet took her in the direction of the courtyard, meager though it was.

As she strode amongst the wilted flowers, which hadn't been cared for in ages, she pondered the strange turn of events. The universe was cruel, she decided, if it was to bring them back together only to keep them apart. She sank down onto a nearby bench, shoulders sagging.



*

Once again, Sylvain found himself sitting across the table from Felix in the mess hall. He poked half-heartedly at his food: what the pilots tended to refer to as 'sweat meat,' anemic broccoli, and a hard chunk of bread. He sighed and leaned in on one elbow, gazing at Felix.

"Think we're ever going to get food that doesn't suck?" 

Despite his gloomy thoughts, his tone and expression were light, as they usually were around Felix these days.

“We might get lucky one of these days,” Felix said with a degree of optimism that wasn’t always present, “but until then, probably not.”

He hadn’t even bothered with today’s offering of sweat meat. There was no way he would’ve been able to stomach it, so why even bother, he thought as he crunched down on the blunt-force object that was being kindly referred to as bread.

“So,” he added, amber eyes looking expectantly at Sylvain, “what’s the plan?”

Sylvain leaned in, meeting Felix's gaze with playful eyes. He pushed his food around his plate a few more times, shaping the mushy vegetables into a half-assed S before giving up and gently moving the tray aside.

"Not a clue," he said, reaching out to gently touch Felix's forearm. He eyed the bread skeptically as though mentally threatening it not to break Felix's teeth...or his soul, and based on the apparent age of the 'food,' it seemed likely. "What's your plan?"

"No plan, really. Thought you were supposed to be the one good at planning things."

Felix arched his brow only to be interrupted by the awkwardly loud crunch that—and the point cannot be stressed enough—the *not toasted bread* had in his mouth.

He grimaced, looking at Sylvain. "I thought you'd want more input at your own bachelor party." 

It was a statement, but Felix posed it curious enough in the moment.

“Me? Good at planning things?"

Sylvain was genuinely shocked, though his expression quickly turned to a sympathetic wince at the unnervingly loud crack. He wasn't sure if it was just him or if the sound had actually echoed in the mess hall, but it didn't matter. He reached across the table to thumb at Felix's lip, concerned.

But the change in topic changes his mood, and he feels his face shift into a sly smile, lashes slightly lowered and molten hazel eyes ripe with suggestion.

"I mean, we're going to invite Dima, right? And Dorothea. And I hear Edelgard's back on base...maybe we could play matchmaker for those two?"

As if it had become habit—and perhaps it had—Felix swallowed with no little effort before capturing Sylvain’s thumb in his plush lips. Yet, he immediately released the small hold he had when Sylvain described their proposed guest list.

“I like the sound of that.”

And he did, though he liked the Dima and matchmaking portions for very different reasons. Felix had seen their newest commander in passing as she was getting reacquainted with her post. Knowing her only through the regretful lens of Dorothea, the small, severe woman wasn’t what he envisioned when he had been told the story of their passions running free. But…neither had *he* thought he would fit the bill either, rendering that observation quite moot in the moment.

Felix regarded Sylvain curiously.

“Do you know Edelgard? I’m wondering how we’d successfully invite her to a private event like that.”

Despite Felix doing this more than once before, Sylvain's reaction was the same as the other man took his thumb into his mouth: his pupils blew and his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed once before answering the question, focusing more on giving his fiancé his most brilliant smile instead of how said fiancé's lips had felt on his hand seconds before.

"Aw, Fe, that's easy--we just invite everyone! And as a new fleet captain, she'll definitely want to make at least a brief appearance. Good optics to connect with the common folk and all that, you know."

Sylvain lifted his thumb to his own mouth and pressed it against his lips, giving Felix a meaningful glance.

Felix’s eyes grew wide even in light of Sylvain’s genuine look. He had thought this was going to be a small thing…how could everyone be there or invited? But, logistics aside, that would likely be a sure fire way to force the new commander’s hand and make attendance more compulsory and less of a choice. Swallowing hard, Felix nodded. 

“Alright. We can do that. It’s the best bet we have for them.” He paused for a moment, watching Sylvain. “Why do you want to play matchmaker for them?”

"Because we almost ended up like them," Sylvain responded softly. "And Edelgard's back now after who knows how long, so we have to at least try, Felix. We have to at least try to get them back together. You talked to Dorothea about her...she keeps it together, but she's a wreck. I know how she feels, and I don't want her to feel that way anymore."

His expression remained thoughtful as he considered the logistics of actually inviting everyone. "We could make flyers, I guess."

“Flyers, yeah. That would be easy enough. I think it’s a good idea.”

But frankly, Felix didn’t much care for the planning. No, he was much more focused on the answer to the question he had posed. And with most things, his Sylvain did not disappoint.

Bolder than he had been on even their first shared dinner, Felix stood and leaned over the table, pulling Sylvain into a firm kiss. The corners of Felix’s lips curled upwards into a small smile that radiated contentment.

Sylvain's hand came up to lightly grip the back of Felix's neck by pure muscle memory, not pulling him in but simply holding him there as he returned the kiss. Reluctant though he was to break the comforting pressure of lips on lips, the sight of Felix's smile was worth it.

"Well, damn, a good idea? Me? You sure you're okay?" he joked, sliding out of his seat and stepping around Felix to drape his arms over his shoulders from behind. "What should the flyers say? C'mon, we have to think of a snappy tagline."

The hand at the back of his neck was a welcomed habit they had long since perfected. And with the heavy arms and Sylvain pressed up against his back, Felix was…

“More than okay,” Felix answered with a contented breath as he grabbed at Sylvain’s linked hands.

“Out of the infirmary and into the fire?” Felix huffed out a dry snort and  turned into Sylvain’s cheek, pressing his nose into the soft skin behind Sylvain’s ear.

“What about ‘Double Occurrence’?”

Sylvain linked their fingers together easily with a dark laugh at the suggestion. It seemed fitting, to name a celebration of their union in honor of the event that had nearly ripped them apart forever.

"I like it," he murmured, tilting his head to allow Felix better access. "Should we have a theme, or just a shitload of alcohol? Maybe we can get our hands on our old pal Jackie D."

Felix took the extra inches given and pressed further, ghosting his lips, just flicking the tip of his tongue against Sylvain’s warm skin.

“Do we have enough different clothes for a theme?” 

It was supposed to be a joke, but the truth of their situation was far bleaker that underlined their reality.

“What if it’s just dress to impress?” Felix looked up earnestly at Sylvain. “That way, people could wear stuff they don’t normally have a chance to.”

A shiver ran through him at the flick of Felix's tongue and he tightened his grip on the man slightly.

"Dress to impress...but, Fe, don't you think you should wear some clothes?" Sylvain asked with a smirk, the fingers of one hand dancing down to circle Felix's nipple through his shirt. Reminding himself that they were still in public, he kept his tone light. "What would you wear?"

Felix’s cheeks warmed at his fiancé’s sly compliment earning Sylvain a nip to his earlobe that was cut short by a silent inhale as Sylvain thumbed near his now pert nipple.

“Only some clothes,” Felix answered, also, painfully aware of their surroundings and where this (he hoped) was going.

“I have some dress clothes in the back of my closet.” Eyes trained up at Sylvain, Felix attempted to telegraph his ulterior motives to get Sylvain to his *bed*room through not-so-subtle nonverbal cues.

“You could help me pick something. I want to look my best for my fiancé. And,” he paused, his tongue unconsciously wetting his lip, “whoever else you want to share me with for the night.”

Now fully convinced that Felix knew exactly what he was doing, Sylvain bowed his head even closer to murmur his next few words, fingers finding their mark and twisting the hardened bud beneath rough fabric.

"Is that so?" His other hand began its descent, the flat of Sylvain's palm gliding down Felix's torso and ending on his upper thigh. He pressed down lightly under the guise of balancing himself, only to graze his thumb over the hipbone where he knew the secret tattoo lay. "Maybe you should take me back to your room so I can take a look at what we're working with."

Felix whimpered in response to the rough tug at his chest. He loved the way that Sylvain somehow managed to feel everywhere around him all at once. The firm weight to his back, the pressure on his shoulders, the pinch to his nipple, and now, wandering placement of his thumb… It was everything he wanted and more, and Felix wanted all of it.

In a series of swift motions, Felix managed to lean down and scoop up the bulk of Sylvain’s weight, hefting the taller man onto his back. Felix facilitated Sylvain’s hold, wrapping his long legs at his narrow waist.

Not allowing another moment to spare, Felix lumbered towards their quarters, huffing out, “No time like the present.”

Chapter 71: Two Happy Campers

Summary:

The use of a very unFelixlike phrase falling from his lips, let alone in that voice, never failed to get Sylvain going. He ground his hips up once in a slow drag, making sure to press just enough for his partner to see just how happy he was.

Chapter Text

Sylvain's eyes narrowed slyly at the whimper and was about to repeat the movement that had prompted the delicious sound when he was being lifted up. He looked around for a moment, eyes going comically wide in confusion, then looked down to see the top of Felix's head.

"Didn't know you were that strong," he rasped, voice hoarse with desire. He tightened his legs around Felix's waist and ground his hips into his back, cock already beginning to stir with interest.

When they reached Felix's room, Sylvain bowed backward at the waist within Felix's firm hold to turn the doorknob, knocking the door open with his elbow. Not releasing his iron grip on Felix's waist, Sylvain righted himself and slid a hand into dark hair, tugging it loose from its tie.

There had been no mistaking Sylvain’s breathy tone as Felix stepped into his room. Feeling his hair fall loose around his shoulders, Felix turned and kicked the door closed. In the smaller quarters it was an easy move to then turn towards the bed and fling Sylvain, bouncing onto the mattress with Felix close behind.

Felix climbed on top of him in an instant. His palms pressed into the polyester material as he moved, hands at either side of Sylvain’s head, Felix’s thighs bracketing his hips.

Looking down at Sylvain, Felix’s voice was low. “I guess I wasn’t being completely honest. I do want your input, but later.”

"Oh, yeah?" Sylvain asked breathlessly, allowing himself to be manhandled and thrown about any which way Felix desired. "Looks like you got me here under false pretenses, then."

He lay captive beneath Felix, eyes wide and eager and dark with lust. While he longed to reach up and pull him down, Sylvain rarely got to see Felix's truly feral side and if his fiancé wanted to jump him, well, he certainly wasn't about to complain.

It was impossible for Felix to miss Sylvain’s dark eyes. While he did love the soft caramel brown, there was something to be said for the enticing look Sylvain had in the face of their trysts. Eyes nearly blotted out by his dilated pupil, save for a small light ring, Felix was entranced.

He lowered himself, just keeping above Sylvain. Felix’s lips ghosted against Sylvain’s brow, the tip of his nose, stopping at his lips; a smirk was clear from Felix’s low, rough tone.

“You make it sound malicious. I got you here by carrying you.”

Sylvain whimpered low in his throat, craning his neck upward in search of a proper kiss before lowering himself once more. In lieu of resisting, he chose to fix his gaze on Felix's handsome features, or what little he could glimpse of them from this angle.

"You did," he agreed, voice slightly choked. "Which I didn't know you could do, but...I might want you to do it again." That the display of strength had gotten him more than a little curious about what else Felix might be holding out about went unsaid, and Sylvain licked at his own suddenly dry lips.

Pleased with the answer, Felix practically purred. “I could carry you more. You know I like you on top of me.”

Even from the hard angle, Felix saw Sylvain’s pink tongue dart out, wetting his lips. Following suit, Felix extended his tongue, drawing across the dip of Sylvain’s bottom lip. From under his dark fan of lashes, his eyes lidded as he looked up at Sylvain with a coy smirk.

"I really do," Sylvain purred in response, lifting a hand to caress Felix's hip. "But...I think I like you on top of me just as much."

He bent one leg at the knee to press it gently into the other man's side, chasing Felix's tongue by sheer force of habit and giving a disappointed whine when he pulled back just out of reach. Unable to retaliate the way he so desperately wanted to, Sylvain settled for nibbling at the corner of his bottom lip, tracing the path Felix's tongue had just taken with his own.

As if always seeking out contact with the other, Felix cocked his hip, leaning and brushing against Sylvain’s bent leg.

Felix lowered himself, his lips next to Sylvain’s ear; his words rolled slowly off his tongue in an attempt to tantalize.

“So you must be a happy camper right now, aren’t you?”

He followed his rhetorical question with a warm press of his lips to the spot behind Sylvain’s ear that he had focused on earlier in the mess hall.

The use of a very unFelixlike phrase falling from his lips, let alone in that voice, never failed to get Sylvain going. He ground his hips up once in a slow drag, making sure to press just enough for his partner to see just how happy he was.

"I am," he said unnecessarily, tilting his head to one side with a shuddering sigh. "Aren't you?"

By his ear, Felix captured his lip between his teeth as he felt the agonizingly slow roll of Sylvain’s hips. Felix took a shaky intake of air and shuddered through an exhale through his nose pressed up against the long column of Sylvain’s neck.

Lips ghosting the soft skin, Felix interspersed his words with a dull scrape of teeth, followed by a lap of his tongue.

“Very much so. My big fiancé,” Felix dropped his hips, mirroring Sylvain’s slow drag, “under me. How could I not be?”

Sylvain practically purred at Felix's reactions, though his own breath hitched at the pass of a deft tongue against the sensitive skin of his neck. Noting the response he'd just gotten, Sylvain rolled his hips upward again, then pressed his knee more firmly into Felix's side to hold him close as they made contact.

"Mm, I can tell," Sylvain replied in a sonorous rumble. "Eager, too. Not that I'm complaining." Despite his growing desire, Sylvain felt a cocky little smile form on his lips.

Felix chased that cocky smirk with his mouth, pressing eagerly into Sylvain’s lips. In Sylvain’s tighter grasp, Felix again rolled his hips as he moved to pepper kisses and a drag of teeth down Sylvain’s defined jawline.

“Very eager,” Felix agreed, his hot breath ghosting Sylvain’s flushed flesh. “What do you want to do about that, big boy?”

As always, the praise, delivered as seduction, got a reaction from Sylvain: a low rumble of a groan, followed by the desperate scrabbling of his hands at Felix's hips. He resisted the urge to grind upward for now, deciding to let Felix take charge.

"Whatever you want to do to me," he responded coquettishly, though the breathless note in his voice betrayed how affected he already was.

“What do I want to do to you,” Felix repeated, looking off askance. There were an unlimited number of things that Felix wanted to do to Sylvain. The hardened length rubbing at his crotch made up a few of those ideas, but one stuck out as he moved his hand, cradling Sylvain’s face.

“I want to make you my husband. Officially.”
Felix bit his lip, fighting back the grin that threatened to split his face.

Sylvain reached up and stroked his cheek, eyes shining soft with affection in the low light. He shifted only slightly beneath Felix, brows contorting with pleasure for the briefest of moments at the friction.

"I want that more than anything," he breathed, thumbing at Felix's bottom lip and pulling it away from his teeth. "But I don't know if we can do that right now...can we?" His mind swirled with a curious mix of lust and overwhelming tenderness that he wasn't quite sure what to make of, but he didn't mind one bit.

Felix smiled, nipping at Sylvain’s thumb. “I don’t know if we can or not but, I like thinking about it. You and me.”

The heat that rose to his face likely colored his cheeks, but Felix remained holding Sylvain‘s gaze. It was a tenderness that Felix never imagined himself capable of until he met Sylvain and suddenly, it was as natural as breathing.

Felix dipped down, all his mass against Sylvain as he caught him in a languid kiss, moving his entire body with his movements. Moaning into the kiss, his heart felt full to burst as desire pooled at his core.

"So do I."

Sylvain wasn't sure whether or not Felix knew just how much he thought about it--certainly enough to annoy Dorothea during the Drift--but made a mental note to tell him. But later, because Felix was descending upon him and grinding down, subtle and gentle and falling just short of enough.

He began to subtly move his hips with Felix's rhythm, slipping his tongue into the other's mouth and flicking it teasingly across his soft palate. The ease with which they drifted in and out of playfulness and passion never failed to amaze Sylvain and he gave a small moan of his own in response, wrapping his arms fully around Felix to hold him close.

Felix broke their kiss in an effort to nuzzle closer, never halting the cant of his hips. They rocked back and forth in a familiar grind that never failed to send sparks down Felix’s spine.

Being held close and tightly against Sylvain’s chest was constricting in the best possible ways; never more secure, Felix relished the pleasant squeeze as the sounds of their soft breathy moans filled his quarters.

“I love you, Sylvain Fraldarius.”

Chapter 72: Manoeuvers in the Dark

Summary:

Sylvain's voice was dark as night and smooth as silk and he dropped his hands to press into Felix's hips, cupping his inner thighs just shy of where he knew Felix wanted him most.

Chapter Text

A short, helpless, lovestruck whimper escaped at the sound of his new name and Sylvain steepled his knees to hold Felix close while still allowing him to move however he wanted. He tipped his head back with a gasp at a particularly good stroke, looking up at Felix with heavy-lidded eyes.

"I love you, too, Fe. More than words can possibly say."

Rolling up further onto his knees, Felix hummed in contentment as he bent Sylvain over that much more, hands scratching down the underside of his hamstrings.

“What do you want? I want to do what you want.” 

Felix’s eyes locked on Sylvain’s lidded stare as he snuck his hand down between himself and Sylvain. With the flat of his hand, Felix palmed and stroked the rigid length through the rough fabric of Sylvain’s trousers.

Each time Felix touched him, regardless of how or where, it felt as though every nerve in Sylvain's body lit up at once. His eyes shot wide at the sudden contact and he instinctively bucked his hips up once, lips parting in a silent moan.

Regaining at least a fraction of his senses, he responded, "I want to take care of you." He reflected on the last time they'd attempted anything sexual and how badly he'd upset Felix; he had no desire to repeat that. "So, I guess you want me to do that, then. If I may," he added, cracking a smile at the unnecessary politeness.

Felix quirked a smile at the odd formality…but didn’t appreciate it any less. The last time they had gotten together it had gone left in a very, very material way. Neither of them wanted to repeat whatever *that* was, perhaps the strange answer was just what they needed.

“You may.” 

The words dropped from Felix’s mouth easily; he trusted Sylvain with his life. He already had and it had proven to be in good faith and a good decision. Here, there was no hesitation. Felix pressed up on the mattress keeping their scant friction as he left his hips dipped and stared down at Sylvain, eager to please and eager to be under his care.

Sylvain gently rolled them over and climbed atop Felix, hovering just out of reach. Leave room for Jesus, his lust-addled mind spat at him and he cracked a smile. Those two words were precisely the ones Sylvain didn't know he wanted to hear, and a feeling of warmth spread through him.

"So, Fe...if I'm going to take care of you properly, you'll have to tell me what you want. What you need." Sylvain slipped his hands up beneath Felix's shirt to tweak a nipple before walking his fingers down slowly, so slowly to tug at the waistband of his pants.

The sound that Felix emitted was less word, more liquid contentment as Felix gave himself over to the pleasure that was Sylvain. The warmth from Sylvain’s large hands as they walked up his body were a comfort and a pleasure all their own, even without the spikes of pleasure from their deft twists.

Instinctually, Felix lifted his hips to facilitate removing his trousers, springing his length free from its confines.

“I can do that,” he panted, “I need you on me. Touch me, please.”

"Touch you where, handsome?" 

Sylvain's voice was dark as night and smooth as silk and he dropped his hands to press into Felix's hips, cupping his inner thighs just shy of where he knew Felix wanted him most.

He focused all of his attention on Felix's face; watching him slowly come undone had always been one of his favorite things, and he hoped that never changed. Moving slightly inward, he brushed just the sides of his thumbs across Felix's cock.

Felix whined out frustratedly at the praise and the pointedly not-purposeful touches. Felix’s hips stuttered up at Sylvain’s deft hands.

“My cock. Please, Sylvain.” 

Felix dropped one of his hands to his chest, pinching the stiffening pink flesh. Felix’s eyes lidded in reaction and attempted seduction as he sat back watching Sylvain, waiting for the man to move as he knew how to.

Felix's plea went straight to Sylvain's own cock and he moaned wantonly as he felt himself stiffen and throb. Of all of his countless partners, Felix was the only one able to elicit such a response with only a few simple words. His eyes locked onto Felix's nipple with laser-focus and he bit down into his bottom lip to stifle a groan at the sight. 

"Fuck, Fe," he breathed, as usual unable to resist giving him everything he wanted--and then some. He slid his right hand inward torturously slowly and brushed his fingertips over Felix’s sensitive head one by one, eyes fixed on his partner's to monitor every reaction.

Felix let out a harsh gasp as the smallest of touches grazed his cock. He tried to hold back, stilling his hips from bucking in search of more of that pleasurable pressure that Sylvain always gave him.

“Sylvain.” 

Already feeling himself throb with untapped desire, Felix whined his name plaintively. As he looked down at the man, Felix didn’t remove his hand from his chest, pinching and slowly circling the stiffening bud.

"Yes?" Sylvain's tone was teasing, although his breath caught in his throat at the sight and he felt himself throb again. He bit hard into his bottom lip, rolling the flesh between his teeth as he tried to compose himself. "What do you want? Tell me and I'll give you everything."

As if he didn't already know good and goddamn well, but Sylvain was never able to resist making Felix ask for what he wanted--and occasionally beg. He placed the palm of his hand over the head of Felix's cock and squeezed gently, massaging in slow circles--not enough to satisfy, just enough to tantalize and torment.

The teasing touches were driving Felix mad. Just barely enough to register as contact, not nearly enough to satiate. Felix let out a groan of frustration before regarding Sylvain with a blacked out stare.

“I want you naked and your hands and mouth all over me.” Felix’s words came out more as a ragged demand, staring at Sylvain. “And then, I want you to ride me.”

It felt odd asking for all the things he wanted. It felt more like a demand as he knew Sylvain wouldn’t refuse him but, hadn’t he been asked to do so? Wouldn’t it have been against Sylvain’s wishes if he didn’t? That logic was the only thing that saved Felix from a self-induced guilt trip.

Sylvain whimpered at the demands and pulled back from Felix to hastily strip; while he'd normally put on a show, he was aching and desperate to give Felix everything he wanted and more. He grazed a hand over his own nipples and bit his lip before shoving his partner's legs apart and settling between them on the floor.

"Like this?" he asked with a coy flutter of his lashes as he licked a single, long strip up the underside of Felix's cock from root to tip. He repeated the motion twice more, brown eyes locked on amber ones, and gripped the insides of Felix's thighs firmly.

The rough tug to his thighs tore a gasp from Felix’s throat as he sat up to watch Sylvain go down. Sylvain was many things: tall, built, charismatic, clever, bold. And on his knees, looking up at Felix, Sylvain was his.

Felix rolled his lip back, capturing it within his teeth. Threading his hand through Sylvain’s dark auburn hair, he gave the strands a tug.

“Just like that,” Felix purred, moving his hips, his cock bouncing against Sylvain’s plush lips, “go on.”

The encouragement and praise drew a low keening sound and Sylvain eagerly took the entirety of Felix's length into his mouth in one go, immediately beginning to suck with diligence he rarely displayed in any other area of his life. His fingertips massaged small circles into the taut muscle of Felix's thighs as he worked him over.

Sylvain took in the glorious sight above him: flushed cheeks, wide dark eyes, lip firmly between sharp teeth. He flicked his tongue over the head experimentally, wondering just how much he could tease Felix before he inevitably snapped.

As Sylvain descended over his length, Felix let out a low appreciative growl. Whether other people were like this as lovers, Felix couldn’t rightly say because his only experience was with Sylvain. But the dedication and the intensity that which Sylvain sought to provide pleasure was immeasurable and something special that Felix felt lucky to behold.

Felix’s hips canted up into the teasing flick of Sylvain’s tongue, searching for that momentary bliss when he found his slit. Pulling his hair, Felix tilted Sylvain’s head back, baring the long column of his neck.

“God knows you’ve got a talented mouth.” Felix guided Sylvain’s head down, lips just brushing his cockhead. “Give me that with your hands, too.”

Obedient as ever, Sylvain slid one of his hands up to grasp and stroke in time with his mouth while the other slipped back to stroke at the cleft of his cheeks, palm cupping and brushing against his balls. As he continued to look up, his gaze was eager: Like this?

His own cock, harder than he'd even thought possible, throbbed dully between his legs. He squeezed his thighs together with a pathetic whimper, trying and failing to stop thinking about how good Felix would feel inside him. Sylvain whined a broken version of his partner's name around the length in his mouth, cheeks flushing a soft rose.

When Sylvain looked up at Felix to gauge his work, all he would see was the bottom of his jaw. Felix’s head fell back as he let out a hiss of pleasure from Sylvain’s masterful ministrations. The amazing feel of Sylvain’s lips and hands were next to only his cock and each time, Felix felt lucky to be in his immediate attention.

Felix pressed down on Sylvain’s head and tug at his hair on each subsequent fall and rise of his bobbing motions. The invasive finger and warmth of Sylvain’s palm sent shivers through his body ending in a breathy string of curses followed by mindless praises.

The tugging at his hair only served to spur Sylvain on and he redoubled his efforts, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard as though he were trying to pull Felix's soul out through his cock. Though he couldn't see Felix's face from this angle, Sylvain knew from experience exactly what he looked like.

Slowly, carefully, Sylvain circled his fingertip around the outside of Felix's hole, pressing in one moment only to pull away the next. All the while, he ignored his own body in favor of his goal: making Felix feel as good as possible.

Out of rote habit, Felix scooted his ass lower giving Sylvain full range to do as he pleased. The obscene slurping noises and smacks of Sylvain’s lips did nothing but drive Felix wild. His hips canted up weakly as they stuttered to keep still.

“Fuck, Sylvain,” he breathed out. “You’re so good for me, so damn good.” As his eyes rolled back in his head after a particularly vicious suck, Felix sat up, looking down at Sylvain, eyes nearly blackened. “If you keep that up, I’m going to want you to fuck me instead.”

Never before had Sylvain wished more desperately that he had two bodies than in this moment, with Felix writhing and moaning so sweetly beneath him. With a soft groan and a slow drag of his tongue, he pulled away and sat back, panting lightly as he studied Felix.

"I thought you wanted me to ride you?" Sylvain asked playfully, sliding up the other man's body to straddle his hips. He reached out for the lube with well-practiced ease and dangled it between them with a mischievous smile. Then, he rocked his hips back to grind his ass against Felix's cock in short, deliberate motions.

The instant Sylvain moved, Felix’s answer came out more groan than words, laced with frustration and desire. His hands went immediately to Sylvain’s hips, holding him tight and flush as he rolled up against his ass.

“I want you to do anything and everything to me, Sylvain.” Perhaps at another time, the statement could’ve come off as coquettish and playful, but in this particular moment? Felix was nearly at his limits, whimpering out softly as he rubbed his rigid cock along Sylvain’s cleft.

“I want you so bad,” Felix breathed, rubbing firm circles into the juncture of Sylvain’s hip bones.

Hearing Felix beg always brought Sylvain a special sort of thrill--the man was pissy and aloof and no-nonsense to the world at large so to see him like this, wide-eyed and desperate and barely holding himself together, was nothing short of intoxicating. And though he loved to make Felix beg, Sylvain himself was becoming increasingly impatient.

He slicked up his fingers with a casual air, careful to keep his eyes from betraying how badly he wanted this, too. With a slight shuffle, he lifted himself on his knees and spread his legs, hips canted forward. Then, gaze never wavering from Felix's face, he slid first one, then two fingers into himself, lips parting in a silent moan.

While it took restraint not to reach up and claim Sylvain’s open mouth, Felix instead whispered heated breaths of encouragement as Sylvain readied himself. Calls of gorgeous, you’re doing so well, keep on, all filled the dark room as Felix couldn’t and wouldn’t take his eyes off Sylvain.

Arm opposite of the one used to stretch himself out, Felix curled forward and reached out gripping Sylvain’s opposite cheek, kneading into the flesh. With his free hand, Felix freely palmed Sylvain’s hard length, setting a slow pace of strokes.

Sylvain's next few breaths came in gasps and stutters as Felix added his hand, torn between thrusting forward into his grip and down onto his own fingers. He bit down into his lip to muffle a whine as he continued working himself open, allowing just the tips of his fingers to flutter over his prostate.

"Fuck, Fe, I need you," he whimpered softly, dropping his other hand to grasp and stroke Felix's cock. He hissed under his breath as he worked a hard-fought third finger inside himself, unable to take his eyes off the man beneath him.

Seeing Sylvain rapidly losing his composure was one of Felix’s favorite sights. Seeing his normally put together and confident visage unravel in front of Felix, because of Felix sent a pulse of desire  through him. Like this, Sylvain was only for him.

“How bad to you need me, Sylvain?” Felix practically purred as the balance shifted slightly back to an equilibrium. Not losing his gaze, Felix squeezed at his cheek and twisted his wrist in an only-slightly malicious twist at Sylvain’s cock. Bucking up into Sylvain’s hand, Felix was already leaking precome as he was falling into their fevered motions.

"So bad, please?" Sylvain groaned loudly at the twist and thrust forward hard into Felix's hand, nearly forgetting his own damn name at the sharp flash of pleasure. He squeezed at the base of Felix's cock once, then passed his thumb over the slick head before lifting his hand to his mouth to lick it clean.

With a soft cry of frustration, he uncapped the lube and poured it haphazardly over Felix's length. In his haste, he nearly spilled the bottle but managed to fumble it upright at the last second. He lifted himself up on his knees to place it on the nightstand, then positioned himself atop Felix's cock and slid down in one smooth motion with a long, satisfied sigh.

As always, the wanton and desperate moans from Sylvain made Felix weak. Shifting with Sylvain’s quick movement, Felix hovered his hands as he watched Sylvain pull haphazardly at the nightstand, preparing himself. Breath escaped his throat as Felix watched him reach back and prepare himself.

When Sylvain sheathed himself on Felix’s cock, everything went white. For a moment, there was only the insane pressure of Sylvain’s walls as Felix settled into him.

“Fuck,” Felix hissed out as Sylvain seated himself. Hands stuttering, Felix continued stroking Sylvain’s cock as his other hand moved to squeeze harshly within the juncture of Sylvain’s hips.

A series of increasingly desperate, high-pitched sounds escaped Sylvain at the relentless stimulation and for a moment he held perfectly still, too overwhelmed to move. He reached up with a trembling hand to brush a lock of hair away from his brow, eyes locked on Felix's face. While he longed to make a proper mess of the other man, Sylvain found himself captivated by his expression, caught in a weird borderlands of lust and emotion that he wasn't quite sure how to navigate.

"H-how do you feel so good?" he whined under his breath, beginning to move his hips in a slow dip and roll. "Every fucking time, Fe, god..." 

His hands scrabbled for purchase along Felix's torso, wrapping around his waist for support as Sylvain began to fuck himself in earnest.

“No god, fuck, just ‘Fe.’”

The cheeky comment lost some of its sarcastic bite when Sylvain began to move in earnest. Felix was lost, focused on the breathy tone of his voice, the way his muscles rippled under his skin, the way Sylvain’s flush spread across his flesh…so enticing, so amazing, and somehow? All his.

With his hips pinned and held down, Felix gripped at Sylvain’s biceps as he threw back his head. Hissing out in pleasure, Felix attempted to still himself allowing Sylvain to take exactly what he wanted, exactly how he wanted.

The frantic snap of Sylvain's hips paused for a moment at the hiss and he lifted a brow, looking down to take inventory with a wicked little half-smile.

"Why don't you show me what you want, too?" he purred, leaning in close to drag his tongue across the pulsing vein in Felix's neck. He began to bounce lightly, tempting his partner to react and play off him in a way Sylvain had never experienced with anyone before.

Out of habit, Felix extended his neck, shivering under the long pass of Sylvain’s talented tongue.

An almost feral growl tore from Felix’s throat as he replaced his hands on Sylvain, one cradling and palming his taut sack, the other stroking up his bouncing cock. Looking up at Sylvain’s handsome face, Felix bit his lip as he worked his hands in a fervor wanting to bring as much pleasure to Sylvain as he could.

Though this was far from their first time, Felix never failed to elicit new reactions and sounds from Sylvain. He moaned a long, loud, broken version of Felix's name at the touch of talented hands and thrust forward with renewed fervor, chasing his own pleasure with abandon because he knew how much pleasure his partner derived from it.

His eyes laser-focused on Felix's lip and he leaned down to bite it briefly, tugging it away from his teeth and sucking on it with another sound, this one hovering just beyond the edges of description. He felt himself throb once in Felix's hand and sucked in a harsh breath of his own, taking his lover to the hilt and slowing his movements to a sultry grind right where he wanted him most.

A completely fucked groan tumbled out of his throat as Sylvain nipped his lip. Every time it was like this. Each time, Sylvain somehow drew more and more reactions out of Felix, each slightly more reactive and slightly less put together.

Under Sylvain’s talented mouth and given pressure, Felix let out a moan, redoubling his efforts with Sylvain’s cock. Felix barely had time to voice his own pleasure as Sylvain began a sequence of solid grinding against Felix’s physique and driving him lower onto the deepest part of him.

“Slow, fuck. Deep like that,” Felix called out, licking his lips. “You’re so good.”

"Yeah?" Sylvain panted, stirring his hips in a languid circle, exactly the way he knew Felix liked. He suppressed a low moan at his fiancé's response to his motions, preferring to take them in as allowed, consequences be damned. However, he allowed a loud, completely genuine moan to escape at the praise and redoubled his efforts, thrusting hard and slow and deep as if he were touching Felix's very soul.

Sylvain reached out and stroked Felix's cheek tenderly with a soft, adoring sigh, then whimpered as Felix's cock rubbed insistently against his prostate, drawing a series of short, brutal thrusts to enhance the stimulation.

With Sylvain’s expert motions, Felix canted his hips up, attempting to repetitively meet the place that made Sylvain call out. Moving his hand from Sylvain’s cock and balls, Felix latched on tightly to Sylvain’s hips, holding him in place. With a moan and touch that seemingly made Sylvain’s eyes roll back in his head, feet on the mattress, Felix held him in place and bucked up into him at a savage pace.

The softness in which Sylvain showed him as he touched his face was next to nothing. Felix whimpered at the contact as he continued to fuck up into Sylvain.

“Close, Sylvain,” he breathed on an especially pointed thrust as Felix was quickly approaching his limits.

"Fuck, Fe..."

The force of Sylvain's release took him off guard and he gave a harsh, wordless cry as his back arched, body clenching and spasming wildly around Felix's length as he painted their stomachs white. He fought to keep his eyes open and locked on his lover's as he continued to ride him with the same punishing pace even as he approached overstimulation himself.

"Need you to come for me, want to feel you fill me up..." 

He reached out unconsciously for Felix's hand, linking their fingers tightly.

If Sylvain was frustrated that their coupling was always so good, then Felix could be frustrated with it in the same vein where he couldn’t focus on the sensation of coming in Sylvain. As always, Sylvain’s body was muscular and built perfection, pleasure came naturally to the man. But fuck, was it overwhelming.

Felix’s eyes likely rolled back in his head when he came. Sylvain pulsing and tightening around his length assured the white hot pleasure coursing through Felix’s body as he came hard in pulses, thrusting up haphazardly, squeezing Sylvain’s interlaced fingers as if they were his only lifeline, lest he be lost to the morass of his pleasure.

All higher thought failed at the first telltale pulse of Felix's orgasm and Sylvain fell silent, watching reverently as one of his favorite sights unfolded beneath him. He leaned in close to pepper Felix's flushed face with tiny kisses in clusters of three, their secret code, his other hand rising to stroke through dark hair. Despite the intense physical pleasure, he found himself more overwhelmed by the sheer closeness, the connection between them.

A soft whimper tore its way loose from Sylvain's throat and he pressed his lips to Felix's, shocked to find that his eyes were prickling with tears.

As his chest heaved, Felix moved his hands to thread through Sylvain’s hair, holding him close and answering his kisses. Pressing back, Felix’s brows furrowed as a strangled sound was smothered behind his locked lips. Felix never operated in half measures. It was the type of person he was and always had been; never giving anything less than his all. But with Sylvain? Everything with the man was just so intense; happiness, anger, sadness, pleasure, all felt and experienced at the pinnacle of each respective emotion.

Ignoring the mess they shared between their bodies, Felix hummed in deep contentment as he held Sylvain close to him, perfectly content in their mutual mess. He separated from Sylvain for a moment, pressing his forehead roughly to Sylvain’s as if to convey the only thought in his head before Felix claimed his mouth again; his I love you, unspoken.

Sylvain hummed in quiet contentment as they lapsed in and out of languid kisses and meaningful glances. If someone had told him all those months ago when they were first assigned together that Felix was capable of any softness, let alone this much, Sylvain would have laughed them out of the damn jaeger program. But now, he couldn't imagine the man any other way.

"I'm not scared anymore," he murmured abruptly. "That this will get taken away from us. It won't. I won't lose you, and you won't lose me." The words were spoken with tender confidence and he looked deep into Felix's eyes, hoping to impart the same comfort.

Chapter 73: Arts and Crafts!

Summary:

"Ignatz with the big nuts," he sang merrily as he strode into the artist's studio, uninvited and without warning, and set the jars down. "Mind if we use your supplies? I'll pay you. But we're making flyers for our bachelor party--everyone's invited!"

Chapter Text

Sylvain had somehow (likely through his own particular brand of wily charm) managed to procure a shocking amount of glitter from Linhardt, who he was now absolutely certain must have a guy on the outside. Or at least, a guy who knew a guy. He shook his head and focused on the two jars of glitter, one a horrible pea green and the other shade of orange that should have been left in a hot car decades ago.

"Ignatz with the big nuts," he sang merrily as he strode into the artist's studio, uninvited and without warning, and set the jars down. "Mind if we use your supplies? I'll pay you. But we're making flyers for our bachelor party--everyone's invited!"

Ignatz swallowed hard and nodded, attempting to project confidence with his response.

"I appreciate that, Sylvain. What do you need?"

"Got any glue?" Sylvain hopped up onto the tattoo chair and eyed the door, waiting for his fiancé to arrive.

“G-glue? I think I should have a hot glue gun in the…why are you making flyers again?”

The tattoo artist stammered out his answer, looking back to his portfolio, pointing blindly to the back of the makeshift studio. Ignatz called after Sylvain’s retreating figure, “How is your piece healing up?”

It was at this point that Felix walked into the swinging door. Not seeing the quick departure of his fiancé or anyone else for that matter, Felix looked around, surprised at the quick loaded question. 

“Uh, hey. Yeah, it’s good. Here, look.” 

Felix approached the low rolling stool Ignatz sat perched on, pulling down the waistband of his pants baring Ignatz’s well-inked work, the dark ink design a standout from his pale skin, nearly matching the contrast of the dark trail of hair just peeking out.

“You did great work.”

Though Felix in his entirety was always a vision, Sylvain's eyes immediately locked on the strip of exposed skin with laser-precision and he bit back a whimper at the dusting of hair leading down to one of his very favorite things. He cleared his throat and straightened up, blowing Felix a kiss and throwing a wink in his direction before turning his attention back to Ignatz.

"You really did, Iggy," he said casually. "And it looks great from all angles, if you know what I mean."

Perhaps it was a little mean to tease him, Sylvain thought, but he couldn't resist. Not when he was so clearly worked up by their mere presence. He grinned and reached out to grab Felix's hand, practically pulling him into his lap.

"Don't you want to see mine?" He gave a mock-pout and his best puppy-dog eyes.

Felix fidgeted in his seat, pressing his ass down a bit more than absolutely necessary as he situated himself on Sylvain’s lap. Felix’s hands moved surreptitiously behind him, falling low on Sylvain’s sides.

“Yeah, Sylvain’s is healing real well, look.” 

In a series of swift movements, Felix curled his fingers under the cotton-poly blend of his shirt and he pulled it up and off his head. Now standing with shirt in hand, Felix walked to Ignatz, placing his palms on his shoulders and pressing into the lean muscles of the artist’s back, wheeling him close to Sylvain.

“Come look at it.” Head low, lips by his ear, Felix continued gravelly as they approached his shirtless Sylvain, clear vantage to the well done piece. “Impeccable work.”

Sylvain moved obediently, following Felix's every motion as flawlessly as a ballroom dancer. He shimmied his shoulders to slink out of his shirt, shivering lightly as the air hit his exposed skin. Seeing Felix take charge and literally manhandle someone other than him should not have been hot, and yet it was.

He rose from the chair and turned slowly, flexing well-defined muscles just a bit--not enough to brag, but just enough to entice and arouse curiosity. When his back was fully turned to the shorter pair, he threw a coy glance over his shoulder and purred, "What do you think?"

“So good, right?” Felix intoned at the side of the artist’s cheek; Felix’s vision never leaving Sylvain, especially when the man deigned to perform and show off a bit.

Ignatz’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the toned muscles twitch to life under the taut flesh. They were nowhere as big as his  boyfriend’s and with Raphael on all fours, bulky in all the right ways, Sylvain looked like a reed blowing in the wind. Yet, somehow with the voice that purred at his ear, coupled with the still pleasant, albeit, different physique, made Ignatz bite his lip, nodding at the perfectly healed piece.

“It’s healing well. Yes, very.”

The subtle change in Ignatz did not go unnoticed and Sylvain suppressed a cheeky grin. Instead, he turned around and eyed the men before him, one brow slowly and steadily creeping up toward his hairline as a smirk spread across his lips. He'd secretly been hoping for something like this to happen, for Felix to display each and every technique Sylvain had inadvertently taught him over their time together. Seeing him act as predator instead of prey made his breath catch in his throat and he rested one hand on the chair behind him to steady himself.

"We've been taking good care of it. I can't reach it by myself, so...Felix helps."

Sylvain rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flashing from Ignatz's steadily flushing face to Felix's and lingering there.

Felix moved slowly around Ignatz, trailing his fingertips around his shoulders up to his defined jaw; the slight lean was impossible to miss, Ignatz chasing his thin fingers as they were directed towards Sylvain. With scant, light touches, Felix traced the darkened outline of Ignatz’s work on Sylvain’s back, enjoying the rippling skin under his nail.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” Felix breathed, still somehow in awe of Sylvain. Felix cast an easy look back at Ignatz before his voice lowered into a honeyed tone. “We won’t ever forget that you were the one who brought us together like that.”

"I appreciate that, Felix, really, but..."

Ignatz gulped audibly and his voice failed. He scrabbled desperately for images of Raphael to pacify him and get him through...whatever fresh hell had appeared before him. The first encounter, which he'd hoped would be their last, was distinctly uncomfortable, to the point where he had yet to mention a single detail to him other than *I tattooed Felix and Sylvain today.*

Sylvain, meanwhile, moved toward them and reached over Ignatz's shoulder to cup Felix's cheek. Tilting his head to one side, he brushed his lips over his fiancé's before whispering in the artist's ear, "See? Told you he likes it. And we are grateful, Iggy. You have no idea."

As always, Felix moved easily in Sylvain’s hands, tilting his head, meeting his lips, regardless of the man between them. The mere proximity made the air around them crackle with an underlying current. Felix looked to the possibly impassioned *dispassionate* artist before relenting, shooting a pointed look at Sylvain.

“But we don’t mean to be distractions if you don’t want. Thanks for letting us use your supplies for our little get together. We’ll clean up any messes and go from there.”

Pulling away, Felix’s eyes darted from Sylvain to the table.

Ignatz visibly shivered as he breathed a shaky breath of relief when Felix removed himself, nodding as he walked behind the sectioned glass counter, separating himself from the pair.

“Yeah, help yourselves. I’m going to be just, over here.” Ignatz focused on his phone as he began thumbing away on it, a new text message to his Raphael:

I’m closing shop early. Be in bed.

 

Sylvain grinned at Felix as the artist bustled away and sat down at a nearby table, sliding a piece of paper across the surface. He grabbed a pen, pressed it to the paper, and then paused with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What should it say, Fe?" he asked, waving the pen in the air as though it might help him think. It did not.

Still searching in vain for inspiration, Sylvain lifted one of the jars of glitter and shook it, eyeing the way the microscopic particles danced in the light. He inclined his head toward the other chair, eyes dark and playful, and watched his fiancé.

Felix nodded as Ignatz more or less scurried away as he joined Felix at the table, taking the seat left for his distracting and demanding derrière. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, Felix held his face as his cheek scrunched.

“Something simple. ‘Base Bachelor Party.’” Felix offered a grin that was a bit more saccharine than intended at his next idea. “‘Come Get Fucked up with the Future Fraldariuses’?”

Felix dipped a long finger into the glitter, raising it to Sylvain’s cheek, marking a lovely iridescent fingerprint on his high cheekbone.

Sylvain's grin softened into something sweet and tender, meant only for Felix, and he tilted his head into the touch to encourage a generous streak of glitter. Then he gave a quick wink and turned his attention back to the page before him, picking up the pen once more and staring down with intense focus, tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he drew.

"Why not both, Fe?"

His handwriting was far from perfect, but it was passable enough and he managed to keep the lines mostly straight and even. Once it was finished, he held the work up proudly before them: "COME GET FUCKED UP WITH THE FUTURE FRALDARIUSES. OPEN INVITATION. ATTENDANCE MANDATORY."

Sylvain canted his head to one side. "I think it's missing something. How about some glittery dicks?"

From behind the counter, the artist flinched delicately but did not look up from his phone.

Felix snorted at the silly, salacious suggestion. He smiled down at Sylvain as he spied his fiancé working judiciously in the exacting strokes of his penmanship. Leaning to the side, Felix nuzzled close against Sylvain’s cheek, sharing in the streak of transferable glitter.

“I think it’s definitely missing some glittery dicks.” The smile was evident in his voice as he pressed his soft lips against Sylvain’s jawline. Something so simple and silly, that it could make him feel so intently…it was a wonder—as was his fiancé. Felix gathered some glue, getting to work on smearing a translucent dick, primed for sparkles.

Lost in their own world, neither saw the artist moving behind them, packing up his items, answering what was now an increasingly large amount of texts.

Sylvain slung one arm around Felix and watched him intently, making small noises of approval under his breath. After Felix finished outlining an impressive phallus, Sylvain trailed a fingertip through the glue to create a glorious fountain of 'semen,' then tapped his finger against the page in an irregular rhythm for drops.

"Now it's truly art," he snickered as he took the two jars of glitter and handed one to Felix. He shook his own in the air in a mock handjob, wiggling his brows suggestively as he did so. "On three, we'll glitter this dick, all right?"

Neither of them noticed Ignatz turning his back and sliding his shirt up with one hand to snap a quick picture of what lay beneath the fabric, pressing *send* and looking around with a guilty expression.

“On three,” Felix agreed as he swirled the glitter container in the air, thousands of particles all collapsing one over the other in a sparkly quicksand-like maelstrom.

1…2…3!

Shaking the contents in time with Sylvain, the awful, awful amalgamation of burnt orange and forest green glitter formed into a nascent blob with only the promises of phallic possibilities to be unearthed. Despite himself, Felix leaned in just a bit more towards Sylvain as he laughed, knocking against his broad shoulder.

The short bout of laughter didn’t phase Ignatz nor the trance he had on his phone. Lip bit and curled into his teeth, the large, flesh-toned image received in response from his previous picture had his complete attention.

Sylvain bumped Felix's shoulder with his own in response, leaning heavily into his fiancé's space with a satisfied hum. He reached up to brush a dusting of glitter away from Felix's face but only succeeded in smearing it across the bridge of his nose, tacky green standing out against pale skin.

"Hey, now you have freckles, too!" Sylvain nosed at Felix's cheek with a smile, one hand coming up to cup his face. "You look cute."

The soft, intimate banter was getting under Ignatz's skin just as much as the picture he'd just received from his boyfriend. He shivered and began tapping out a response on his phone, only to erase it multiple times. The telltale sound of Sylvain's lips making contact with Felix's neck caused the artist's face to flush brilliantly and he locked his phone with a loud sigh, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he turned to face the pair.

"That, uh, looks great, you guys. But really, I've got to get going...let yourselves out?"

Head already tilted to the side to allow Sylvain free space for his neck, Felix turned towards Ignatz who had made himself known behind them.

“Uh, yeah we can do that.” Narrowing his eyes in legitimate concern, Felix asked, “Are you feeling okay, Ignatz? Really. You look a little flushed.We can walk you to Med Bay and th–”

“No!”

The shouted response more than took Felix aback. Literally recoiling, Felix’s eyes grew wide as he looked over the man who nearly had one foot out the door already. 

“I mean, I’m fine, really. I don’t have any appointments for the rest of the day. So, just take your time, you have what you need, right?” Ignatz nodded with a thin smile as he picked up his bag and swung it across his shoulders, “Artistic endeavors should never be stifled!”

Blinking hard doing nothing to aid in the confusion, Felix nodded dumbly.

“Okay then. We’ll lock up. Thanks for the help.”

Sylvain's lips slowly formed into a catlike grin and he wrapped his arm around Felix's shoulders, giving the artist a knowing look...and a wink.

"You're damn right about that one, Iggy," he said casually. "Now go and unleash your own 'artistic endeavors' on whoever you've been texting for the last half hour."

Chapter 74: All That Glitters

Summary:

Sylvain, meanwhile, picked up the piece of paper and tapped the edge on the table to shake the loose glitter free. He held it aloft before them, more or less pleased at the result.

"Thoughts, future husband?"

Chapter Text

Ignatz sputtered something nonsensical in response and hurried away, the door clanging shut behind him. Sylvain, meanwhile, picked up the piece of paper and tapped the edge on the table to shake the loose glitter free. He held it aloft before them, more or less pleased at the result.

"Thoughts, future husband?"

The ferocious blush at the title was completely unnecessary—Felix wanted his skin to know that—but blush, he did. Turning his attention to Sylvain, the question of what that whole thing was about died on his lips the moment he saw the tapped reveal.

“Oh, that’s real bad, Sylvain.” 

Felix’s eyes lit up as his low register strained at the description of the large orange and green phallus that was more fire hose than sprinkler system. His hand went to the nape of Sylvain’s neck, thumb pressing and rubbing against his skin.

“We need at least twelve more.”

"Fuck," Sylvain sighed, all the air leaving his lungs in a gasp as he relaxed his neck and released all the tension he didn't realize he'd been carrying. His next words came out in a breathless chuckle and he slid his own hand to Felix's lower back, kneading gently at the muscles. "Twelve more...that's a lot. Might need to take a break, find some inspiration to make something that looks a little better, maybe..."

He swiped his finger through the pile of glitter on the table, now blended together to make an even more hideous shade of cat-vomit-brown, and held it aloft to study the way it shone in the light.

"I hate to say this, Fe, but I'm pretty sure this color palette isn't 'it,'" he added, feeling uncomfortably like Dorothea. "I'm open, as always, to ideas."

Pausing for a moment with Sylvain’s curse, Felix smiled gently and continued his kneading at the back of Sylvain’s neck. For the easy-going and carefree persona he showed, the man held the weight of the world and then some…mostly in his neck and trapezoids.

As always, Sylvain’s hands remained deft with exacting touches that made Felix arch his back. The delicious pressure never failed to elicit such feelings of relaxation; Felix nuzzled into Sylvain’s side, some integral part of him recognizing that integral part of Sylvain.

“We could always just do one solid color for each or make multiple designs if this isn’t…” Felix paused for a moment, smirking at the very un-Sylvainlike wording, “it, you know.”

The response Felix received to his careful ministrations was a dark, throaty purr and Sylvain leaned hard into him, half-bracing himself against his fiancé's side. He added his other hand to the mix, glitter be damned, to get a better grip on Felix's own tense muscles...or so he told himself.

"Multiple designs, huh...sounds complicated and like a lot of work, but definitely more interesting than drawing the same half-assed dick over and over again until my hand falls off. What kinds of designs are we talking, here?"

Sylvain leaned back just far enough to gaze down into Felix's face, now thoroughly intrigued by the endless creative possibilities stretching out before them.

Being pulled and grabbed, as if he was something to be held when beholding wasn’t enough, Felix easily moved closer as if the fabric and the skin separating their bodies represented the most heinous of sins. Turning his head upwards, Felix wordlessly met Sylvain’s gaze. That Felix could still be reduced to speechlessness when he met those caramel eyes was an issue all on its own. Felix wrapped his other hand at Sylvain’s neck, mirroring his kneading motions.

“Uh…if you wanted to do body parts, we could…or, just you know, just draw random…” Felix opened and closed his mouth with little effect. When did his mouth go dry?

“…squiggles.”

While Sylvain always found Felix's sudden speechlessness at the subtlest of touches beyond adorable, he refrained from telling him just how cute it was. He sighed again, body practically going to putty beneath the gentle movements of Felix's hands. In response, he began to press his fingers in just a bit harder as he contemplated the suggestion.

"Squiggles work, I guess. And I feel like they represent our relationship pretty well...ups and downs, but hopefully mostly ups from now on."

His smile softened and his gaze turned tender and full of adoration, finding himself utterly content at the prospect of a happy, stable future.

That Sylvain could look at him with such tender sweetness set an ache at Felix’s soul. He had never put much stock into romance nor even the idea of having a relationship. But yet, even after the highs and the lows experienced with Sylvain, Felix could never imagine going back to anything else.

“Mostly ups,” Felix echoed before shifting. Pressing Sylvain back to sit balanced on his own, Felix stood from his chair. Fingers now interlaced behind Sylvain’s neck, Felix gingerly stepped over each of Sylvain’s thighs. Now seated and facing him, Felix continued to work his fingers at his nape. From his upper back to his hairline, around to the back of his jaw, Felix’s caressing hands didn’t leave Sylvain.

“I think squiggles will be a good artistic interpretation.”

Sylvain choked back a whimper as Felix settled himself atop his lap as though he belonged there--which, of course, he did. He pulled his partner toward him, long thick fingers splaying across the taut expanse just above the curve of his ass.

"You know," he murmured, "I think this isn't quite the ideal position for productivity. At least, if we want to work on the flyers..."

Sylvain most certainly did not want to work on the flyers--in fact, he thought to himself, fuck the flyers. The shittily-made one had been created with love...or at least, not resentment. In a silent effort to convey his lack of caring, he twitched his fingers and winked.

“No, it really isn’t,” Felix agreed, fingers rubbing deeper into the thick cords of Sylvain’s neck. Feeling the fingers spread at his back, “How productive do you want to be?” Felix tilted his head down, as Sylvain gathered him closer against his lap, nosing close at Sylvain.

“We could finish them and then you could finish me. Or,” Felix purred, “we could make photocopies.” 

A smirk curled at his lips as he caught his lower lip in his teeth. They could play crafts with each other. Whichever it was, Felix was more than content to go with Sylvain on this.

"Photocopies sound good," Sylvain said dumbly, mouth slightly agape at the vision before him. For all Sylvain loved it when Felix played prey, it was always guaranteed to be more than a good time for both of them when he turned predator. "I, uh, don't know how well the glitter'll copy, but we can try..."

His hands and mind were elsewhere, now shamelessly roving up and down the full length of Felix's back in alternating firm and light touches. He braced one hand on the shorter man's hip, pressing his thumb firmly into the now-healed tattoo that lay just beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Then he paused, looking deep into Felix's eyes for the briefest of moments before leaning forward and sweeping his tongue generously over his fiancé's bottom lip.

Any words that Felix might’ve responded with melted with his resolve to do anything that didn’t have Sylvain’s hands on him. Where Sylvain’s hands traveled, Felix arched and bowed his back. When Sylvain tongued at his lip, Felix whimpered softly at the warm touch, chasing his mouth with his own.

“We can sprinkle glitter in the papers as we put them up.” 

The statement was an afterthought as Felix had to bring himself to even string the cogent thought together. He curled at his waist dragging his ass downwards against Sylvain.

The graceful, obscene bend in Felix's back would have been enough to do him in, but the whimper that followed practically destroyed the last of Sylvain's willpower. He shifted his own hips up, grinding subtly against Felix. The perverseness of the situation did not escape him, but as usual, he couldn't bring himself to care; mustering up any semblance of dignity was damn near impossible when he had Felix on top of him and looking down at him like that.

"Good idea." The words came out through slack lips and he bit at the lower one, rolling it between his teeth with a meaningful glance before releasing it. "My clever fiancé... future husband. Always so full of good ideas. Why don't you show me more of them?"

Felix purred under the acknowledgment and praise, meeting the sensuous roll of Sylvain’s hips with his own, Felix’s ass down against him. The title alone set a flutter in his chest that he had just acknowledged as pleasurable…but the term husband still took him aback, his cheeks flushing enough that he couldn’t hold Sylvain’s gaze. He leaned forward, his forehead against the crook of Sylvain’s neck as his hands went straight to both their waistbands.

“Your future husband wants to touch you.” Felix turned into Sylvain’s neck, pressing lingering kisses to the soft skin to his defined jaw. “You can touch your future husband too if you want.”

“Your future husband wants you to touch him," Sylvain countered, voice cracking on the last few words as Felix began attending to his neck--another area he'd never known was sensitive until their first time together. Dimitri's ugly taunt about firsts, back in the shower, threatened to overtake his mind; he busied himself by sliding his hands up Felix's shirt and down the waistband of his pants.

From there, he let pure instinct take over: fingers walking down over the smooth expanse of taut skin and hard muscle, languidly tracing each ridge before moving to the next. He leaned in and up to brush his own lips over Felix's pulse, brushing his tongue against it with the lightest of touches.

Chapter 75: Closed for the Day

Summary:

Raphael hadn’t even swallowed the last bite of his sub sandwich as he took quick, heavy steps throughout their small galley kitchen through the curtained divider to their bedroom. The double cabin had served as his and Ignatz’s home for nearly the last three years, but never once in their relationship had Raphael gotten a demanding text, a secret picture, and Iggy to close the shop early—much less all in one day!

Chapter Text

Raphael hadn’t even swallowed the last bite of his sub sandwich as he took quick, heavy steps throughout their small galley kitchen through the curtained divider to their bedroom. The double cabin had served as his and Ignatz’s home for nearly the last three years, but never once in their relationship had Raphael gotten a demanding text, a secret picture, and Iggy to close the shop early—much less all in one day!

His boyfriend was rarely demanding in any aspect of their life, which had always been a point of worry for Raphael. Ignatz, the great guy that he was, would rarely ask for anything of his own. It had been a few weeks since the last time Ignatz had come home and fallen into the place of demanding love. They had gone all night and into the early morning; Raphael’s hips had ached to the bone.

Which is now why Raphael saw and reacted so eagerly to the possible signs. In an effort to revisit his demanding Iggy, he took proactive actions to further the cause. It had been a long, long time since he had taken a picture of his ass and he hoped the uncommon sight was something that would entice and draw his demanding Ignatz out. Now he was left lying on their larger bed waiting excitedly.

Ignatz burst into their shared quarters haphazardly, throwing his bag of sketch pads and supplies to one side and kicking the door shut with one foot. His trembling fingers fumbled at the buttons on his military-issued shirt and by the time he made it to the door to their bedroom, he was stripped naked to the waist.

"Raph," he breathed, flinging himself onto the bed and atop his significantly larger lover. "You won't believe the day I've had..."

Ignatz nuzzled into the thick corded muscle of Raphael's shoulders and bit down gently with a low hum. His hands, nimble and strong from countless hours wielding a tattoo gun, traced along Raphael's pectorals, then his biceps, then back to his abs and lower still until they were resting solidly on the deep V's of his hips.

Not expecting the projectile that was Ignatz, but reacting to his lithe love, Raphael caught him as he jumped atop him. The blonde man’s hands went to sweep a strand of green back behind his ear as his other large hand slid down his body. Small in stature, Raphael couldn’t get enough of Ignatz’s physique, the copious amount of tattoos that adorned his body, just a bonus.

“What’s that, Iggy?” Raphael looked at his bespectacled eyes with a genuine contentment even as he felt himself stir with interest. “Tell me something I don’t know!”

"Well," Ignatz began breathlessly as he spread his legs to settle atop his larger lover's lap, promptly closing his knees to bracket his hips, "Felix and Sylvain came in, wanting to make some flyers for their bachelor party. We're invited, by the way."

The addendum was spoken almost shyly and Ignatz's overall affect could be interpreted as "coy"...were it not for the steely, commanding hand that slipped below the belt to grasp firmly between Raphael's legs. "I liked the picture you sent, by the way. Very much."

Excitement of a different brand flashed through Raphael’s brain at the mention of a party. A bachelor party! That meant food and drink were going to be free! That the two men had found love, well that was a feat in its own regard.

“That will be so fun, Iggy! We can go and…” A contented sigh escaped Raphael’s wide, plush lips as Ignatz sat above him, domineering as he bracketed his hips, a sight Raphael had never once tired of. But the second statement was what truly caught the large man’s attention.

“You did?” Raphael asked almost shyly. “It was something different, yeah? It wasn’t too much?”

"I loved it, Raph," Ignatz responded instantly, leaning down to breathe the words into his lover's ear. "I think you should do it more often." After a moment's hesitation and a fierce blush, the artist asked tentatively, "Did you like mine? Or did I not show enough?"

Contrary to the bashfulness of his words, Ignatz shoved a hand down Raphael's pants to grasp at his length, smirking to himself against the other man's neck. It was a side he rarely allowed himself to display and yet with Raphael, for all their complicated history, he felt free.

“No!” Raphael responded instantly, his large hands moving to cup and cradle Ignatz’s head at his neck. “It was so good! I love seeing you! You know I do! It was just so surprising and you know I always like to see you more, but it was perfect, Iggy!”

Raphael’s face remained contorted in concern until Ignatz grasped him, morphing into one of lazy contentment, moaning loudly. With a learned restraint, Raphael resisted canting his hips up. His large frame, a man made absolutely bulky everywhere, remained on the bed, his hands only moving so far to rub at Ignatz’s form.

As usual, Raphael's enthusiasm brought a tender smile to Ignatz's face. The man often came across as an oversized, overeager puppy, which led many to think he was simple. But over the years he'd gotten to know Raphael, Ignatz had learned that it was far from the case.

He pushed the sentimental thoughts away for the moment as he pushed Raphael's shoulders down to the bed with his free hand, pinning him there with unexpected strength.

"Yes, I could tell you loved it," he murmured, looking down at his boyfriend. "Do you want to hear about why I sent it?"

“Yeah! Whatever it was, I wouldn’t mind it happening again.” Raphael‘s deep voice ebbed into a resonant chuckle that moved Ignatz where he sat straddled atop him.

Raphael loved when Ignatz let his strength be known. Always one to shy away in public, to know that Ignatz felt safe and secure to exert as much control and power here in private made Raphael’s heart sing. He was big and bombastic and he could be the one to let his Iggy have exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. Raphael carefully stroked Ignatz’s forearms, up and down, looking up expectantly at whatever he was going to have to duplicate to get the same result.

Ignatz smiled again, a light blush rising to his face just as it had back in the shop when he'd not-so-secretly observed the two men. He released Raphael's length to remove his glasses with one hand, placing them on the nightstand before leaning in close to look into his lover's eyes.

"Well," he began, "you know how Felix and Sylvain recently got matching tattoos, right? They came in looking for art supplies today, but then Felix, of all people, wanted to show off how they're healing, and..."

He swallowed hard and pressed his hips down into Raphael's, unsure how to phrase the rest without hurting him or making him jealous.

"I think it was something about the way they are with each other that made me want you," he finished softly.

Raphael leaned up and ran his hands on Ignatz’s thighs, his extended grip damn near covering the entire expanse of his boyfriend’s leg. If Raphael’s grip got a little tighter upon the mention of Felix showing his tattoo, it went unremarked. But he did, however, roll his hips forward in a natural rhythm when Ignatz pressed down against him.

“And was it healing nicely? I know you always do a fantastic job!” Raphael gave a bright, lopsided smile that turned into a pensive, curious look as he resumed his passes over the fabric at Ignatz’s thighs. “I’m not complaining, but what were they doing that made you want me?”

“Very nicely, in fact."

Ignatz's eyelids fluttered at the skillful passes of large hands; despite his size and strength, Raphael was also exceedingly careful with him, to the point where Ignatz had had to sit the man down and tell him that he wasn't going to break. He noted the miniscule tightening of the blonde's fingers at the mention of Felix and continued.

"Just...the way they touched each other, like I wasn't even in the room. How they looked at each other. All that skin..." He traced a fingertip around one of Raphael's nipples before grabbing a generous handful of muscle. "You'd look good with a tattoo here, you know."

Raphael recalled, with some ease, that the tattoo Iggy had done on Felix had been below his belt. He also recalled well that was the night he had been given no quarter, in perilous danger of dehydration from a loss of fluids… That his fleshy chest was pawed at and grabbed now—as opposed to the space at his hip—as an ideal location for another piece of art filled the beginnings of insecurity that had seeped into his mind. Raphael pressed his burly chest upwards into Ignatz’s exploratory reaches.

“Yeah? I mean, I love your art, but it’s just so, permanent. My tastes change almost weekly. I don’t know if I could pick just one thing there.” 

And that was the heart of it. Besides, it hurt! Raphael loved all of the artwork that adorned Ignatz’s body. But as it stood, Raphael only had the one himself, and even that had been arduous. But…the happiness that it continued to bring both of them had made it worth it. Maybe it was time to think about something else?

Raphael continued his hand’s patterned passes, but brought the opposite one to the unhandled nipple, where he thumbed calloused pads around his areola. Coaxing his nipple to stiffen, he watched the clear, lovely green eyes above him sharpen.

“So, did you watch them and want to touch me?”

"Yeah," Ignatz breathed, leaning down to gently trail his lips over warm skin, replacing his firm grip with kisses. "It reminded me of what we have, and I just...wanted it. Is...is that okay?"

Old uncertainties and insecurities were beginning to creep in, and he suspected that he'd made a misstep somewhere along the line. He busied himself with peppering Raphael's skin with more kisses, creeping steadily up to the firm, proud line of his jaw.

"I love you, Raph," he whispered in his ear, stilling the increasingly frantic motions of his hips to simply lie on top of his larger partner, cheek pressed against his thrumming pulse.

Raphael’s strong brow furrowed for a moment, stalling his hands where they were as Ignatz spoke. That this man, his man, had such a question hurt his soul. It had confused him when they had met that Ignatz would even ask the question, Was it okay to want?  It made no sense. There wasn’t a lot that Ignatz shared about his past, but whatever it was, it had conditioned him to ask questions that need never be answered between lovers. And Raphael was going to fix that.

With an overly-large, easy smile, Raphael encircled the smaller man in a big embrace; his hand wrapping easily to the opposite sides of Ignatz. Holding him tightly to his chest, they moved together with every intake and exhalation of breath and each of his words.

“That’s more than okay! I want you to want things so I’m glad you told me you want that.” His breaths fluffed strands of green hair tucked at his chin. “Because I love you too, Iggy. More than almost anything!” Raphael tilted his cheek, leaning firmly against Ignatz’s head. “I think that’s only fair since pizza was technically here first. But you’re a very close second.” 

Raphael was a simple man and that someone could even come close in his esteem as pizza was? Boy, there had to be something special there.

Ignatz chuckled softly at the description--while some might be offended by being outranked by pizza, he found it hopelessly endearing and so essentially Raphael that he couldn't imagine living without it. The ugly split between Felix and Sylvain had pained him deeply and made him even more determined to hold on tightly to what they had for as long as possible.

He reached up to stroke his nails through short blonde curls and shifted atop his boyfriend, nuzzling into him. Then, a mischievous smile began to creep onto his lips.

"So, what were you thinking about when you sent me that picture?"

To feel Ignatz's body fall less rigid against him was very much welcomed. Less stiff and closer than before, Raphael held him until whatever squall had passed behind those verdant eyes. Face still away from Ignatz's, Raphael felt his cheeks warm in a major way.

"I uh...what was I thinking about?" 

Raphael repeated the question asked slowly in a futile attempt to buy him some time to think about a good answer to the question he had been asked, literally seconds ago, right against his ear, that he couldn't have possibly misheard, that definitely needed an answer, that definitely wasn't a lie, that definitely was okay...

"Well, when you sent yours, I was in the kitchen getting that leftover sub, right? And, well, I got it and the first thing I saw afterwards was the olive oil...and, you know, it reminded me of when we were out on the reconnaissance mission and it lasted longer than it was supposed to and…we didn’t have any lube…and you got creative."

Ignatz blushed again at the memory and nodded, smiling at how Raphael recounted it. His hands slid slowly down Raphael's sides to grip his waist. He felt himself begin to stiffen once more against the larger man's well-muscled hip and closed his eyes, picturing the scene being described.

"I did," he answered, recalling their utter desperation for each other that had led to the pair of them rummaging frantically through the cooking supplies to find something, anything that would facilitate what they wanted most. He'd been about to give up and settle for pleasuring his boyfriend-slash-copilot in other ways when Raphael had spotted a generous bottle of olive oil.

As if by rote memory, Ignatz's hands crept inward to stroke at Raphael's lower abdomen, reluctantly arching his body away to make room for his touch.

The hardness at his hip only served to entice. Almost as if a direct and natural response, Raphael wound his hips against the growing secret that Ignatz hid from most of the world. Clocking the downward trail of his lover’s hands, Raphael laid back, his core tightening in anticipation of those deft and talented hands.

“I…” he began with an unnatural timidity in his voice, not oft heard. “…may have tried it. Again. Myself.” The deep scarlet that showed on his freckled face clashed incredibly with his blonde curls as he looked down at Ignatz as if asking for forgiveness.

“I thought it was maybe a thing and you weren’t actually closing the shop early! That, maybe that would be a fun next picture and I had plenty of time to stretch out and take some more pictures for you and also finish the sandwich before you came home and…!”

"Oh?"

This time, Ignatz was genuinely taken aback by Raphael's shy confession, eyes focusing on the smattering of freckles on his face, which as far as Ignatz knew largely went unnoticed. He leaned in and dusted light kisses over both of his cheeks, reflecting on how, although it was cliché, the freckles on his lover's earnest face reminded him of stars in the night sky.

He pulled back just enough to look deep into Raphael's eyes, his own full of a mixture of lust, amazement...gentleness. Wrapping his fingers lightly around the other man's length and giving a single stroke, Ignatz asked, "How was it for you?"

The light, sweet kisses to his cheeks sent a flutter through his chest. Still after all this time, Ignatz somehow still had the same effect on him, an effect that Raphael hoped never would fade—he'd miss the butterflies.

When Ignatz palmed and stroked his length, Raphael groaned, arching his back into the pillowed mattress.

"It was good, it always is, right? Slick and, like I said, I was thinking of you and that's always a good thing. But you know," he paused looking at Ignatz, "I just wanted to stretch out for you…”

As always, Raphael's coy, almost bashful tone drew a full-bodied shiver from Ignatz. He flexed his fingers one after the other in quick succession, dancing along the rapidly-hardening flesh. His lips turned upward at the corners in the slightest suggestion of a smile, and he leaned in close to whisper his next words.

"You know, when I texted you to be in bed, I wasn't expecting you to go quite that far," he murmured, voice steady and confident and close to a purr. He pulsed his grip once, then slid his free hand down to probe at Raphael's already partially-stretched hole. "Looks like you've done a good job for me, Raph...should I reward you for it?"

Raphael bit his lip as he stifled another long, groaned out noise at Ignatz’s deft touches. Breath already catching, turning haggard, Raphael somehow managed to whine with bass in his voice as he wriggled within his half on, half off pants

“I did what you wanted, right though? I’ll always do that for you. And, well, not that, but, also yeah, that.” 

Raphael did his best to push his hips away, pressing them back as he nodded, watching with wide eyes, this side of pitiful as he dangled the prospect of a reward in front of him. “Please, Iggy? I can be so good for you, you’ll see!”

At that, Ignatz whimpered fully and wantonly, sagging forward to bury his face in the broad expanse of Raphael's neck. He bit down hard and purposefully on his trapezius, closing his lips around the hard muscle and giving a vicious suck with the intention of leaving a brutal bruise.

To the south, his fingers twitched as his grip tightened little by little, the movements of his wrist picking up speed until he was rewarding Raphael with full, firm strokes.

"Just a minute," he said softly, slipping a hand down to probe at Raphael's entrance. Ignatz moaned and cursed under his breath at the sensation of relaxed muscle beneath his fingertip and slid two fingers inside, crooking them just-so.

Raphael guided Ignatz down to his chest when he fell forward, cradling the back of his head as he felt the pleasant sting to his ever-tight trap. In a shared, well-trained movement, Raphael bucked into Ignatz’s hand as he stroked his large stiffening member to life.

“Iggy, there. Want you there.” 

Raphael‘s voice came as a low wine as he ground his hips against Ignatz’s probing fingers. Already having stretched out his hole with a sloppy and eager enthusiasm, the exacting touches from his lover were something he absolutely craved.

Ignatz groaned softly and he tore his hand away abruptly to fumble for their oft-used lube, fingers trembling. He looked down at Raphael's expressive face with owlish eyes as he hastily slicked up his own cock, nudging gently against his partner's waiting hole.

"I think you're ready...we both are," he murmured, watching the other man intently as he began to slowly enter him. One hand fell to Raphael's hip while the one still on his cock continued to move steadily.

“Yeah,” he panted, looking up at Ignatz as he rushed through their well-practiced movements, “both of us. Give it to me, please?”

Raphael’s eyes grew large as his bushy eyebrows tilted upward in the middle. He pleaded plaintively as his hands went to his chest, pinching at his chest. When Ignatz slipped his rigid cock into his waiting hole, Raphael keened back and pinched at his rosy buds, giving himself over to the sensations.

“Iggy…my god,” Raphael called out low, looking down his body at the love of his life thrusting into his waiting hole.

"Yeah," Ignatz stammered in response, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasurable warmth and pressure as well as the sense of comfort and familiarity. When he opened them again, he stared down at Raphael, pupils blown, and began to move his hips in slow rolling motions.

With a light shiver, Ignatz dipped his head to capture Raphael's mouth, barely pulling out with each thrust. The large man was always surprisingly, pleasantly pliant, more than willing and eager to be moved however Ignatz desired...which only made him more determined to take care of his partner. He squeezed the turgid length in his hand with a soft moan and a sigh, content with their mere proximity.

“Mmm, just like that.”

Raphael moaned deeply at the first roll of Ignatz’s hips, and then the second, and the third… The man had such a deftness with his motions that were completely focused on him. Over the years, Raphael had gotten spoiled by the ways in which Ignatz treated him. In public and in private, he couldn’t imagine anyone taking better care of him. The manner in which Ignatz desired to treat him with such care and concern dipped into something that seemed like he enjoyed. Who was Raphael to take that away from him?

His thrusts were closer to a deep, grinding sensation and it was the one Raphael craved. To feel Ignatz inside him, at his very core was to feel bliss. The big man whined into Ignatz’s mouth as he was once again caught relishing the stimulation he was treated with from all angles.

"Raph..."

Ignatz's voice was a breathless whine as he continued to carve himself into his larger partner's body, canting his hips up in a slow glide to grind soundly against his prostate. He splayed his free hand across the other's hip, squeezing into the firm muscles at his side.

"How do you feel so good?" he whimpered, pleasure already beginning to build at his core. "Every goddamn  time..." 

In stark contrast to the tenderness of his other ministrations, Ignatz caught Raphael's lower lip between his teeth and drew it into his mouth, suckling hard at the plump flesh.

Humming contentedly at the sweet praise, Raphael was taken out of his focused concentration when Ignatz captured and suckled vigorously at his lip. It was like this that Raphael loved the most. The contrast of his Iggy’s sweet and demure nature juxtaposed with his harsh and unforgiving movements sent a sick thrill up his spine every goddamn time. 

Raphael whimpered pathetically into Ignatz’s mouth as he pulled the man closer, desperate for that harsh command that Ignatz had always possessed over him. His thick, uncut length pulsed in Ignatz’s grasp, throbbing as he moaned wantonly.

Ignatz, already perilously close to the edge himself, came hard inside his lover with a low groan, all the breath escaping his lungs and going into Raphael's waiting mouth. His hips snapped almost violently as he pulsed his release, his strokes on Raphael's cock matching his desperate pace.

"Fuck, Raph," he rasped as he rolled the other man's foreskin up and over the sensitive head for just a moment. Though Ignatz wasn't running from anything anymore, he still found himself utterly lost in not only the other's body but his entire being.

“Iggy, please. Come inside me, please, please, pl–-”

Ignatz refusing or unable to restrain himself when he climaxed was one of Raphael’s favorite things. The man came hard and violently, body working at a fevered pace chasing his pleasure. Everything got a little bigger, a little harder, a little messier and Raphael ate it up. With the haphazard snap of Ignatz’s hips, his length probing directly at his prostate, and the tighter grip on his cock, Raphael tipped over the edge following right behind Ignatz as he was filled.

With a deep, low wail, Raphael groaned into Ignatz’s mouth, ravenously pressing the two together as his climax surged. His hole quivered around his lover’s length as he painted their hands and chests in an impressive built-up load.

The force and volume of Raphael's orgasms never failed to surprise Ignatz, even after all these years. With what little strength he had left in his body, he tensed his muscles and twitched twice in response to the maddening clench of Raphael's walls before collapsing onto the large man's well-built chest.

"That was...it was incredible. Incredible,” he repeated softly, tilting his head to cast a loving gaze on Raphael. “You’re incredible, and I love you."

It felt important to continue to give reassurances, given that they'd slept together under nearly identical circumstances twice now. Ignatz placed a lingering kiss to the hollow of Raphael's throat, humming under his breath.

Raphael whimpered as he came down, grasping at Ignatz—already collapsed on his chest—in needy tugs, pulling him ever closer and tighter as if he could somehow consume and merge with the smaller man.

“I love you so much, Iggy.” Raphael busied himself with iterations of his pleas of love as he laid sloppy kisses to the crown of his head. Adorning Ignatz’s verdant strands with plush presses of his lips, Raphael relished in their closeness and in the overwhelming feeling that welled in his heart.

…maybe he could love something even more than pizza.

Chapter 76: Flyers, Glitter, and the Wedding Singer

Summary:

She calmly released Felix and strode to Sylvain's other side, tilting her head as she studied the flyer. "You know," she began, with the gravitas of a fine art critic, "I thought these colors wouldn't go together at first. But now? So ugly, it's fabulous. And I mean that as a compliment. They're...strange. And it suits you."

Chapter Text

Stack of photocopied flyers in hand, Felix stood back as Sylvain closed the door to the tattoo shop, ensuring the door latched securely. Mess, well, both messes cleaned up, tattoo parlor and none of the chairs within much worse for the wear…they pair were off. News had to be spread and flyers had to be placed!

“We should be able to hit up the main posting boards at each branch division of the base.” Felix looked back at Sylvain with a raised brow. “You good?”

"Mm, I'm more than good," Sylvain purred, scanning Felix's body up and down with a lascivious gaze. "And ready to put these things up and get it over with, so we can move on to the real fun."

Sylvain dropped a hand to quickly grope his fiancé's ass firmly, fingers kneading into the taut muscle just long enough to tease before he pulled away. Then, he busied himself with stabbing an ugly faded green thumbtack into the top of their makeshift flyer. It was one of the less fucked-up ones, the penis mostly straight and the distinct print of Felix's supple ass in all its glittery glory mostly defined.

He backed up to study his work, slinging an arm easily around Felix's shoulders to draw him close.

"What d'you think of it, Fe?"

Felix rolled his eyes fondly at Sylvain’s lingering gaze and the pleasant firmness of his grip.

“I think,” Felix started, taking his finger and dipping it into the small twist pot of glitter, “it’s beautiful and will get the job done. But as for the first part,” Felix looked up at Sylvain’s face, just at his temple with a coy tone and look, “the real fun, huh? What’s that, hmm?”

 At the hummed question, Felix rose to his toes, lips ghosting the shell of Sylvain’s ear.

"The real fun," Sylvain responded easily, "is me sucking you off until you pretty much black out."

He slid to his knees between Felix's legs with astonishing ease, harnessing his considerable previous experience. With one hand, he reached up to pop Felix's fly open and free his cock, flicking his gaze hungrily between the turgid length presented before him and the generous expanse of mirror behind him.

Felix's breath caught in his throat at the salacious idea that he had all intentions of claiming for himself after they placed the flyers. That imagery of Sylvain taking him back to his place and getting on his knees, popping off his jeans, and grabbing his cock, beginning to work it in only the way Sylvain could...

"--ay, hey!”

Pulling himself—and possibly them both—back from the precipice of no return, Felix took a step back, readjusting and tucking himself back. Already responding to just that initial touch, Felix breathed out hard, trying to ground himself and think of decidedly unsatisfying things, like the awful pot pie filling that they had been served three weeks ago... eugh.

Felix reached out and hefted Sylvain back to his feet.

"I believe you, okay? And I will take you up on that literally the second we get back to our place. But, let's get this done first."

Sylvain pouted playfully and rolled his eyes, then zipped Felix's pants back up. Rising to his feet, he threw a cheeky grin before turning his attention once more to the flyers.

"Yeah, yeah. Work before play and all that. Damn, Fe, you're a real taskmaster, you know that?"

His tone was light as he stabbed another thumbtack into the flyer, whistling merrily under his breath. Then he stepped back and cocked his head to survey his work.

"This one looks...mostly straight." Sylvain's lips quirked upward in silent amusement. "Where else do you think we should put them up? Only eleven more to go..."

Felix breathed out a sigh of relief and a huff of laughter under his breath. He stood back, side to side with Sylvain crossing his arms and looking at their work.

“Not too bad, not too bad. I think they should go on all of the bulletin boards. There's one on about every corridor. Feel like going on a walk around the base with me?”

"Always," Sylvain responded warmly, linking his arm through Felix's. He gathered the remaining stack and tapped the edges of the flyers against his thigh to straighten them. "But we gotta save the first one we made for the jaeger bay, deal?"

The very idea of hanging up a piece of paper decorated with a gaudy, glittery penis tickled Sylvain, and he chuckled at the prospect of Miklan stumbling across it. Then his expression grew somber and he looked down at Felix with concerned eyes.

"Hey...what do we do if my brother shows up to our party?"

“Deal,” was Felix’s immediate answer. The best and original flyer should obviously have a place of honor. Felix was ready to continue their familiar back-and-forth when he saw Sylvain’s countenance darken. Before he even spoke, Felix’s hands went to his waist, looking up and meeting his gaze.

“Then we see how he acts. There’s going to be a lot of people there and it’s an open invite.” Felix’s lip twitched, “He’d be really stupid if he tried to pull anything. But otherwise, just try to enjoy yourself with your future husband, yeah?”

At his last word, Felix pulsed an encouraging squeeze at Sylvain‘s waist, an unspoken I’ve got you.

As soon as Felix touched him, Sylvain felt all the tension drain from his body. His shoulders sagged and he tightened his arm around his partner with a short nod, then leaned down to brush his lips against Felix's forehead.

"He's a fucking idiot and he might try...he doesn't have anything left to lose, after all." This time when Sylvain chuckled again, the sound was humorless. "But you're right. Let's just focus on us, okay?"

He smacked a kiss to Felix's cheek before straightening up again. Though the feeling of unease lingered, Sylvain did his best to put it out of his mind; it had been several days since he last saw Miklan, which meant he'd either left or was avoiding him. The latter sounded good in theory...were it not for Sylvain's extensive experience with the absence, which typically meant his brother was up to no good.

When they turned with the purpose of continuing their path around the base, Felix only moved away enough to walk at his side, grabbing Sylvain‘s hand as they continued their mission.

As they continued walking, it wasn’t hard to tell or for Felix to know that the unease Sylvain felt had lifted slightly, but was still omnipresent. Knowing that, he did his best to allay any other worries by offering a distraction for the moment.

“The mess hall has a few bulletin boards. We should put a few there. Speaking of,” Felix paused for a moment, “since we can’t really do free booze, maybe we can buy some food for everyone. You know, have someone from the kitchens make a shit ton of french fries or hotdogs for the night. I don’t know. What do you think?”

"I think Linhardt can definitely hook us up. Very appropriate choice of foods, Fe, by the way. Very phallic."

Sylvain glanced down at Felix with a toothy half-smile, pulsing his fingers around his fiancé's.  If Felix's intention had been to distract him, it had worked, and Sylvain was eternally grateful for it.

"You know," he added as they continued to walk, "we should have a hotdog-eating contest. I'd give, like, five whole dollars to whoever could eat one without using their hands. Do you think we could get Lorenz to do it? Bet we wouldn't even have to pay him...just taunt him until he freaks out and decides to do it just to prove us wrong."

The squeeze to his hand was more comforting than anything else could’ve been in the moment. There was a short sigh of relief that escaped his throat when his carefree Sylvain came back in full force with the suggestion of the hotdog eating contest. 

“I think that’s something we could swing. And maybe,” Felix looked up at Sylvain, his smirk curling at the corner, “maybe even Lorenz would do it. We could say it would be our wedding gift.”

"Oh, man! If it's going to be our wedding present, we should ask him to eat an entire packet. It'll be hilarious. Especially since he has this whole thing about not putting penises in his mouth."

'I eat with that, Sylvain!'  

Lorenz's pompous, scandalized voice rang in Sylvain's head like it was yesterday and the corners of his mouth lifted just a little. Though multitasking was never one of his strong suits, he managed to dip his head to kiss Felix's temple without tripping over himself or dropping their flyers.

Felix managed to both press up into Sylvain’s lips as he kissed his temple and shook with laughter at the on brand imitation of the lavender-haired pilot.

“I don’t know about that whole thing he has,” Felix nearly snorted as he had no issue believing the words as spoken, “but there’s no harm in asking for more, is there? Worst thing he can say is no, right?” Felix gave Sylvain a sly smile that morphed into something easier and natural.

"Worst he can say is 'no,'" Sylvain agreed. "And then we get to make fun of him for it either way, so win-win."

The mess hall was noisy as ever, new recruits clamoring among themselves as they wolfed down what passed for food and grizzled, battle-hardened pilots staring into murky cups of coffee. Still clutching Felix's hand, he hurried over to the bulletin board as though it would run away--and if it had any sentience or semblance of self-preservation, it would have, because no sooner had Sylvain approached than he was moving papers around to secure the best spot for their flyer.

He pulled a tack out of the cork and held it out to Felix, holding the flyer up to the board with one hand.

"Want to do the honors?"

Felix didn’t move as much as he was pulled along, cutting through the crowd of people at the mess hall. But even if dragged, it would be only a step behind Sylvain’s long strides.

When they approached the board, Felix held out one of the flyers expectantly as he watched Sylvain rearrange the papers already affixed to the board. It was then that Felix felt a warm sensation in his chest. To see Sylvain so eager and seemingly so happy was a balm to any other feelings of anxiousness he had. The man deserved to be happy and to see him now, Felix felt lucky to play a part of it.

“Definitely.” Felix took the tack and the paper tacking it right in the middle where Sylvain had cleared space on the board. “Perfect placement.” Admiring his work, Felix gave a nod of approval and turned, looking at the taller man, “You’ve got an eye for this, Sylvain.”

"Nah," Sylvain said quickly, instinctively deflecting the praise, "I just like to make a spectacle, which is exactly what we should be doing with these, don't you think?"

He fell silent for a moment to admire his fiancé and soak up their shared exuberance, lips parting in a soft, lovesick sigh. But his reverie was quickly interrupted by his co-pilot bouncing up to them, eyes shining with excitement.

"Felix!" she cooed. And then, more tersely: "Sylvain." She reached out with one well-manicured hand to touch Felix's shoulder, stroking her fingertips gently along the seams of his shirt. "I hope I'm invited to the party?"

Felix just gave Sylvain a satisfied smirk as an answer before they were joined by Sylvain’s co-pilot. With a sonorous call of his name, Felix turned around, hanging his hand lightly on the slim arm that came to his shoulder.

“Dorothea.” Felix addressed her flatly. “I doubt a non-invite would be enough to stop you from joining.” 

His deadpanned speech only lifted at the slight curl of his lips as he couldn’t hide the smirk he wore.

“You better be there.”

The dissonance of Felix's tone and body language made Dorothea smile, and she twitched her fingers playfully.

"Well, that's not very nice." She pouted prettily, then winked. "Like you wouldn't want me there. Anyway, you boys did...an interesting job on these."

She calmly released Felix and strode to Sylvain's other side, tilting her head as she studied the flyer. "You know," she began, with the gravitas of a fine art critic, "I thought these colors wouldn't go together at first. But now? So ugly, it's fabulous. And I mean that as a compliment. They're...strange. And it suits you."

Dorothea moved as did Felix. Tilting his head up with a small smile, Felix set his chin on Sylvain’s shoulder. He spoke softly, more for Sylvain in the moment.

“Toldja you did well.”

Turning into his side, Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain, toeing the line between a possessiveness he had come to treasure and a pride that would always rest with the man.

“Thanks. It’s kind of like us, huh? Strange and wouldn’t think to put us together, but somehow it works.” Felix squeezed around Sylvain’s trunk before speaking again. “Glad it passes your muster and that you took notice of it. That’s the idea.”

Sylvain murmured his agreement and wrapped his arm around Felix in kind, pressing back against the smaller man's body. One of the many things Sylvain had come to know and love about Felix was the way he always found some small way to assert his dominance, whether he was aware of it or not, and Sylvain was more than happy to be Felix's trophy.

Dorothea eyed the pair wistfully and nibbled at her bottom lip. "So...what festivities do you have planned? And I'm assuming you're going to post more than one of those, if you really want it to be a rager. You do, don't you?"

Content with Sylvain not deflecting this time, Felix shifted his attention back to Dorothea. Nodding mildly, Felix answered in kind.

“You get the idea. We’ve made a few of these and are going to post them around base so everyone knows. We’ve been to a couple of places already, and the last one will go up at the Jager bay. As for festivities…” Felix looked up at Sylvain with a questioning look. “Other than having food, I didn’t think of that, did you?”

Sylvain's lips twitched for a moment before he let out a short burst of laughter.

"We were trying to think of ways to trick Lorenz into going face-first into a pile of extruded pig assholes," he chuckled, fixing his gaze on Dorothea. "But we'll probably have music or something, I don't know. You sing a little, right?"

Dorothea rolled her eyes almost fondly. "Yes, Sylvain. I 'sing a little.' If you're asking me if I'd like to perform, well...as long as the bar is adequately stocked, I think I could be persuaded."

But while the prospect of singing in public had never failed to make her smile in the past, the knowledge that Edelgard was back on base dampened her enthusiasm just a bit. The opening bars of the song she'd sung to Edelgard on their last night together began to worm their way into her mind and she stubbornly pushed the melody away.

Felix managed to shake off the disgusted wrinkle in his nose at extruded assholes when he keyed in on Sylvain’s words. Felix’s eyes darted from Sylvain and then to Dorothea for clarification.

“You actually sing? And you’d do that for us?” 

Equal parts stunned by the revelation and the generous offer, Felix found he couldn’t stop himself from blurting the words out—equipped and ready to feel embarrassed at his faux pas at a later time.

Both pairs of eyes fixed on Felix at the question. Sylvain smiled warmly and nudged him with his hip, while Dorothea practically glowed, preening at the sudden interest.

"It's how I used to pay the bills before I became a pilot," she said coyly. The owlish, disbelieving look on Felix's face was adorable, and she couldn't resist reaching out to pat his cheek. "But yes, I'd be happy to do that for you. Do you have any requests?"

“Do you know HIM?”

It should be noted that Felix knew who he was. Never under the misconception that he was the most charismatic or the smoothest person on the face of the planet. But never was it more obvious than right now. Rather than ask any follow up questions on the previous life Dorothea led, he instead chose to again, blurt out an answer that made no sense even with the meager context provided.

“I mean, HIM, the band. There’s…there’s a song I like there and, everything else, anything would be good. Thanks. That’s…thanks.” Felix wanted to turn himself inside out as he physically cringed.

"My dear Felix," Dorothea purred, leaning in close, "I love HIM."

She flashed Sylvain a devilish look and lingered there for just a moment before straightening up and pulling back to a more respectful distance. Sylvain stepped in immediately to take her place, wrapping both arms around Felix's waist and drawing the shorter man's back to his chest.

"I shouldn't be surprised you're such a big fan, Fe," Sylvain chuckled, resting his chin atop Felix's head and beginning to hum to him under his breath.

“No, probably not.” Felix shrugged his shoulders as he leaned into Sylvain’s wide chest. “I’m nothing if not consistent.” He turned his attention back to Dorothea, addressing her, “If you could sing Scared to Death, I’d really appreciate it. The rest, all you.”

Dorothea nodded with a small, secret smile in response to Felix's observation about himself. But his request sent a tiny shiver down her spine and back up again; it was the same song she'd sung to Edelgard the last time they saw each other.

"I know that one well," she said softly, averting her eyes for the briefest of moments. "I'd be honored. I'm glad it's special to someone else."

The admission came out unconsciously, and its effect on Sylvain was immediate. He tightened his grip on Felix and nodded solemnly, mind drifting to their secret plan to reunite the former lovers.

He didn’t understand the reason behind Dorothea’s averted eyes nor in the statement she shared next. But upon the pulse in Sylvain’s arms, Felix knew whatever had passed the woman was something that had hit rather close to home. Reflexively, Felix wound his arms around Sylvain’s own, squeezing, finding home right in his embrace.

“I can’t wait to hear you sing, Dorothea.” His voice was small, choked with a sudden emotion Felix couldn’t quite place. “I think you’ll be the only one able to do it justice.”

Fully aware that they were in a very public place and choosing not to give a shit, Sylvain dipped his head down to place a tiny, fluttering kiss on the shell of Felix's ear. He mouthed a silent I love you against his skin, then turned his attention back to the woman before him.

"So, I guess we'll see you there, 'Thea," he said with a sly smile. "But right now, we've got some more work to do. No rest for the wicked, and all."

Sylvain reluctantly loosened his hold to return to their former position, fingers laced together. He swung their joined hands between them as he led Felix through the corridors, guided as always by pure instinct, toward the jaeger bay.

Chapter 77: Their White Whale

Summary:

"Behold, The Dick," he announced proudly, holding it before them with one hand and gesturing grandly with the other. "If this can't bring them back together, nothing will."

Chapter Text

The soft press of Sylvain’s lips never failed to send a chill down Felix’s spine and when he did it now was no different. Felix adored the manner in which Sylvain openly showed his affection. As they had very much discovered, tomorrow wasn’t promised; no sense in saving something he could say or show today. They loved, fought, and acted with an abandon all their own and Felix would change none of it.

When moved, Felix took Sylvain’s hand echoing his thanks and appreciation for Dorothea as they walked on to spread word of the upcoming festivities. When they had put some distance between the mess hall, Felix looked up at Sylvain

“You going to take a guess at what caused Dorothea to look like that?”

"I don't know, but if I had to guess, I'd say that song means something to her...and it probably involves Edelgard."

Sylvain's grip on Felix's hand tightened and he kneaded into the back of his partner's hand with anxious fingers. The omnipresent reminder that what had happened to the two women could easily have happened to them was sobering, and he began to feel the old, familiar panic rise up in him.

Fortunately for both of them, they reached the hangar before Sylvain could spiral into a full-on existential crisis. He raised Felix's hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles before releasing it to shuffle through the remaining flyers.

"Behold, The Dick," he announced proudly, holding it before them with one hand and gesturing grandly with the other. "If this can't bring them back together, nothing will."

Silent at his side, Felix stood, his mind running and active. That a song held meaning was one thing, that it might’ve been a shared one, well that was strange, but not unheard of. But the amount of disruption it had caused in her otherwise unflappable demeanor spelled out something else entirely. Felix only stirred from his thoughts when Sylvain kissed his knuckles and released his told to produce their original work, their masterpiece with a flourish.

“You’re absolutely right,” Felix agreed as he guided Sylvain’s hand back, tacking the handmade, yet still somehow remarkably gaudy, flyer to the cork board. Standing back, looking at the flyer, Felix felt pressed. The idea of a brand new, just transferred captain seeing this masterpiece and going to the event seemed less likely and less likely the more he looked at ‘Come get fucked up with the Future Fraldariuses!’ Maybe approaching Edelgard with a personal invitation wasn’t completely unadvisable.

“Sylvain,” Felix placed his hand at the man’s side, “If we do want to help Dorothea out, we should make sure Captain Edelgard is properly invited.”

Unbeknownst to Felix, Sylvain was having the exact same thought. Not that he didn't stand by their craftsmanship or phrasing, but because it felt a bit too casual, a bit too impersonal, considering there was more at stake than the Captain's attendance at their party, debauched though said party would be.

"You're right, as always, my dear future husband." Sylvain cast a playful glance at the shorter man. "I say we finish hanging these up, then find her and invite her personally. But...maybe we shouldn't mention anything about Dorothea."

He was secretly pleased by the turn of events, particularly Dorothea's generous offer to sing for them. And if the song held special meaning for her and Edelgard, as they suspected, well, that was an added bonus to further their plot.

Felix caught Sylvain’s coy glance as his face warmed, still moved by the newly minted title. He nodded in agreement; Sylvain and he back in their lockstep, finishing where the other began. Their time alone could wait a bit longer—this was important to them.

“That’s a good call. No need to complicate things that might already be…complicated.” Felix grimaced before looking at his watch and checking the time. “If she’s still the on duty captain covering the night shifts, she should be leaving for her the rotations in the next half hour.” Looking at Sylvain with wide eyes and a certain eagerness, Felix added, “Want to see if we can catch her and invite the captain ourselves?”

"Absolutely!" Sylvain responded immediately with an enthusiasm he absolutely did not feel. In truth, Edelgard von Hresvelg scared the absolute shit out of him, and he marveled at Felix's ability to maintain composure at the mere thought of the tiny yet formidable woman.

He nodded roughly in the direction of their destination, though he remained still with his feet planted firmly in place. His grip on Felix's hand tightened ever-so-slightly, and he thanked the universe and everything in it that Edelgard was probably the one woman he hadn't propositioned.

"Lead the way."

“Relax, Sylvain.” Felix implored through his words and (hopefully) through his reassuring squeeze as they walked down the connective corridors of the the base’s perimeter. “Worst thing she can say is no, right?” He arched his brow as he looked at his tall fiancé. “And I bet even you have been told no a time or two.”

That could be total bullshit. Hell, Felix himself hadn’t said no, but this was neither the time nor the space for such. But, what did they really have to lose? They were allowed to have social functions, to speak with superior officers, and to try and do nice things for their fellow cadet. So what did they lose from offering? Just some time. What could they gain? A whole hell of a lot more.

"The worst she could do is yell at me, I guess, but she doesn't have any reason to--we've never met," Sylvain mused aloud, already feeling calmer from the mere act of talking it out with his partner. He caught Felix's eye and gave one of his signature winks, an adoring, lopsided smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

They wound through seemingly endless hallways and passed enough machinery that Sylvain had stopped taking note of it before they glimpsed the telltale flash of red and white that heralded their intended target. Taking advantage of the fact that they were still out of sight, Sylvain hastily grabbed Felix's chin in one hand and pushed him against the wall with the other, holding him there firmly. Then he lowered his mouth to the shorter man's in a brief, brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue.

"Okay," he panted lightly. "I think I'm ready for this now."

Many things about Sylvain stood out to Felix. But it wasn’t ever his obvious good looks nor his self-assured, practiced and perfected actions—it was always the cracks in between. That genuine, lopsided smile that seemed to only form in private, the worried eyes that looked to his for reassurance, and the physical connection that offered any and all tangible confirmations.

When Sylvain looked at him and smiled, when he was grabbed and pressed to the cold metal wall, when Sylvain pressed himself against him, sharing the same breath, Felix had never been so wild for the man. Felix moved pliantly with the strong movements, accepting the contact and any and all things Sylvain was willing to give him.

The harsh kiss was over as soon as it began, stealing Felix’s breath, leaving him only with a breathless grin. Grabbing his hand, Felix walked towards the woman with stark white hair.

“Captain Edelgard?”

Not necessarily startled, but not expecting to be addressed, the woman turned towards the pair with a raised brow. 

“Pilots Fraldarius and Gautier. Yes? What is it you require?”

"We're getting married!" Sylvain gushed, grabbing Felix's hand and holding it up so Edelgard could see their rings. Then, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his enthusiastic outburst, he added, "We're having a little celebration soon and just put flyers up. But we wanted to invite you personally, since you're the Captain and all."

He lowered Felix's hand and laced their fingers, flicking his gaze anxiously back and forth between the shorter pair.

"There will be refreshments," he said awkwardly, feeling strangely intimidated.

Being pulled forward and upwards, Felix felt like a champion box fighter. Undefeated and on top of the world, Felix felt himself blush and smile in spite of himself under the outburst. He met Edelgard’s lavender gaze before looking askance.

“Yeah, like Pilot Gautier said. We are getting married and since we don’t know when we actually could, we are having a small celebration.” Felix gripped Sylvain’s hand hard in his own, not faltering under her stoic gaze. “We hung posters and wanted to invite you if you were free.”

Though she was surprised by the outburst, Edelgard’s expression remained stoic as the two spoke. Equal and opposite measures, the two now reflected what she had seen in their status report. When transferring, she had made it her goal to go through all personnel files within her division prior to her transfer. And for the litany of reports, pilots Gautier and Fraldarius had stood out in her memory—and why wouldn’t they? Everyone knew of the Fraldariuses, less so regarding the surviving member of the family’s fabled history. And Gautier, the name itself was renowned for a multitude of reasons. Beyond that, after pilot Blaiddyd, Gautier had been her replacement.

“You both have my gratitude for the invitation.” She offered the two a mild look of cool professionalism, aware how her stature belied the power and command she held. Edelgard shook her head, “I can’t promise attendance, but I have been known to enjoy refreshments. If I can attend, I will do so.”

Felix's stilted phrasing and delivery thoroughly cracked Sylvain up, but his fear of the tiny, formidable woman before them kept his face perfectly neutral, not a trace of his usual flirtatiousness present. He smiled politely and resisted the urge to bow at the waist, which suddenly seemed appropriate.

"We appreciate your consideration," he said, reluctantly recalling the etiquette training of his youth, which he'd fought like hell to slough off since breaking free of Margrave's brutal grasp. "Fe, shall we? I don't want to take up any more of the Captain's time, and we have a few more flyers to go."

“You are fine, I promise.” Edelgard smiled politely, nodding her head. “But I won’t keep you two. Thank you for seeking me out and the personal invitation.”

Felix cleared his throat looking between Edelgard and Sylvain before nodding, stepping back. Before either could say another word, Edelgard spoke again.

“And soldiers,” she stood to her full height, still inches even below Felix, Edelgard commanded an air of unquestioning authority, “congratulations. Truly. Celebrating good times together is something that should be held onto with both hands. Cherish it.”

Felix nodded, something wistful and almost sad seemed to cross her features. When he answered, his voice was smaller than anticipated, hushed and timid.

“Thank you, Captain. We…hope to see you there to celebrate with us.”

Chapter 78: Practice Makes Perfect

Summary:

"What about Dima," Sylvain repeated, pausing for a moment to think. "I feel like we should maybe broach the subject of...you know, with him before the party. I don't want him to feel pressured or put on the spot. And we should probably figure out, uh, logistics. Who's doing what to whom and all that," he finished awkwardly.

Chapter Text

With the remaining nine flyers all hung and tacked in places of prominence around the base, the two found themselves turning down their familiar residential quarters.

Once back in the sanctity of Sylvain’s room, Felix flopped on his bed, back bouncing and settling on the mattress. He let out a deep sigh, chest heaving to the swell of his belly, bringing his hands up, scrubbing at his eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting today to go like this. ‘Least the flyers are all up.”

Sylvain joined Felix on the bed, lying close enough for their shoulders to touch. He slung one long leg over Felix's thigh with a long, deep sigh of his own.

"No kidding. But yeah, I'm hoping we get a pretty good turnout. Do you think we should personally invite anyone else, or will the flyers be enough?"

He crooked an arm behind his head to cushion his neck, turning a little to face his fiancé. It had been tedious work indeed, but it was something they would (hopefully) have to do only once.

The warmth Felix felt was emblematic of his Sylvain. For a person who always ran cold, Sylvain’s mere presence warmed Felix thoroughly. Their points of contact, shoulder and thigh, served as conductors of the circuit of their pleasant, shared heat. Pressed down into the mattress, Felix turned his head, facing Sylvain.

“I think the flyers will get us plenty of people to see the first ginger Fraldarius.” In a move that was all Sylvain, Felix winked with the hint of a smirk at his lips. “I think we did well and it’ll be…good. Good for everyone.”

Felix bookended his answer with a nod as if punctuating the sentiment before he stilled, eyes cast just past Sylvain’s gaze, momentarily lost in thought. Unable to stop from voicing his mind’s wanderings, Felix sighed into the silence of the room.

“What about Dima?”

The smirk did not go unnoticed and Sylvain felt a little surge of pride run through him at the similarity to his own mannerisms. Perhaps, he thought to himself, it was true about how married couples began to look and act alike over time. They seemed to be going through the process at warp speed, but he certainly wasn't about to complain.

"What about Dima," Sylvain repeated, pausing for a moment to think. "I feel like we should maybe broach the subject of...you know, with him before the party. I don't want him to feel pressured or put on the spot. And we should probably figure out, uh, logistics. Who's doing what to whom and all that," he finished awkwardly.

Felix’s eyes never left the gaze he had come to know better than his own. He watched Sylvain closely for any of the tells he had come to know his fiancé to show when doubt and anxiety seeped into his lovely expressions. Though, it was perhaps overkill as uncertainty was plain in his voice as it was on his handsome face. Giving him metaphorical space as they laid next to each other, Felix looked up to the ceiling as he snaked his hand down, grasping and patting at Sylvain’s outstretched thigh.

“I don’t know anything about doing this, much less planning it, but, I know I want to keep your comfort as my primary concern.” Felix pulsed a firm, hopefully reassuring squeeze to his muscled thigh. “So, yeah. I agree with both. What do you want? And, I guess, not want as well?”

The question was far from unexpected--Sylvain had spent countless hours mulling over the topic himself, thinking of every possible act and combination thereof. He rolled over onto his side to properly face Felix, resting one hand atop his fiancé's firm, well-defined abdomen. Looking into the amber eyes he so adored, Sylvain finally formed a proper response.

"I want you to do whatever you need to bring you closure." While he wasn't a fan of Dimitri being inside Felix--his Felix--Sylvain also recognized the importance of things coming full circle between the two men. "And I mean that sincerely. You can ask for anything, and I will give it to you freely. No guilt or shame. Okay? I love you, Fe."

As easily as Sylvain had turned, Felix delicately laced the tips of his fingers with the hand that now rested atop him. To his side, Felix gave a soft smile. In times like these, Felix was reminded that his Sylvain, his bombastic, larger than life, charismatic Sylvain was the last to ask for himself.

“Thank you, Sylvain. I appreciate you trusting me enough for that.” Felix watched Sylvain with pointed interest when he made to add, “Trust me when I tell you it’s not closure. It’s an opportunity to do something I want with a man I’ve known for most of my life and the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Felix brought their combined hands to his mouth, pressing a hard kiss into the scarred, freckled hand.

“I’m not doing this without you and I’d never want to. I love you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain positively melted at the tender kiss and even more tender words, eyes growing slightly moist. He blinked hard twice, then focused his attention on Felix's face once more. For a moment, his gaze flitted down to the other's lips and though he yearned to pull him into a kiss, he forced his eyes upward to take in the face he loved so much.

"I love you, too, Fe. So, now...what did you have in mind? What do you want? I want to be good to you, more than anything...you know by now that making you feel good makes me feel good, so, indulge me? Please?"

Whether or not Sylvain had always been an attentive lover with all of his partners would go unremarked upon, but Felix only had experience with this current Sylvain. Treated with dedication, passion, and patience, Felix was spoiled from the outset with everything that Sylvain deigned to show him. As time went on, Felix became more aware of just how lucky he was to have a man of Sylvain‘s caliber. He was never more aware than at this zenith of their relationship—which is what led Felix’s internal drive to please Sylvain and in the process, himself as well.

“Indulging you is to indulge myself,” Felix began, warmth already beginning to pool both at the passionate and prurient implications of his words, “that being understood…I want you to watch me. Watch how Dima handles me and then you show him how you handle your Felix.” Every instance where Felix had blushed before this moment literally and figuratively paled in comparison; he felt his cheeks damn near sizzle when an odd idea came to mind.

As hot as his face felt, Felix didn’t want to drop Sylvain’s gaze in this moment where he brought an unspoken curiosity to life. “I don't want to have Dima inside me by himself. Would,” he began, dredging up all the confidence he could muster to finish the question that came to his mind, “it be possible for me to take both of you at the same time?”

Sylvain listened raptly as Felix began to speak, describing all the things he knew his fiancé had been thinking about for quite a while now. The coy words, combined with the intense and almost troubling flush on Felix's face, set something inside Sylvain alight. But it was the final suggestion that drew a low, involuntary whine from deep within his chest.

"How?" he asked breathlessly. "Where would you want us? Be specific, Fe."

Sylvain splayed his hand across Felix's abdomen, fingers working subtly at the fabric of his shirt. His eyes shone with something almost predatory as he continued to gaze at Felix, silently reflecting on just how damn lucky he was--how lucky they both were, not only that they'd found each other but that they appeared to mesh so flawlessly.

The breathy quality of Sylvain’s words caught Felix’s attention in a manner that was oh-so pleasantly familiar. That familiarity did little to allay the ferocious blush at his cheeks, but spurred him on with an albeit small, but growing confidence.

“I don’t know if it’s possible or the dynamic positioning, but both of you fucking me at the same time.” Felix caught Sylvain’s gaze as his fingernails scratched idly at the back of Sylvain’s splayed hand. “If not, maybe he can have my mouth and you can be inside me? Or,” he paused, “if it was wanted, I could take one of you and the other could be of service?”

"Like, trade off?"

Despite the verbal dance Felix was currently doing, he'd brought up having Dimitri inside him more than once, and Sylvain planned to make it so...even if the idea of his old rival being inside his fiancé made his skin crawl and his protective hackles raise. He palmed at Felix's chest as he considered all the possibilities; letting Dimitri go first meant getting it out of the way. And even though it would absolutely suck to watch that, at least Sylvain could show him up on his turn.

"Maybe he could start off...I can show him how to get you nice and ready, then suck your cock while he's inside you?" Sylvain's fingers began to knead, catlike, at the flesh and muscle of Felix's torso. "I don't know what should come after that, though. Any ideas?"

“I mean, we could.”

The idea of being fucked with the addition of Sylvain’s talented mouth if he thought about it, Felix could likely come just at the mere idea…

“But...” Felix looked to the side for a moment before finding Sylvain again, “I didn’t think you’d like that.” He huffed out a breath of frustration directed at only himself; he wasn’t being clear and it was affecting the conversation that seemed to be of a growing and vital importance.

“I meant if you and Dimitri could be inside me at the same time. In my ass. Is it possible for me to be stretched out like that.” Felix deadpanned the crude, crude image that had seeped into his brain as he felt the growing pressure of Sylvain’s fingers dig into his chest. Unease began to drip into his consciousness as he searched his fiancé’s face.

Sylvain's mouth immediately went dry and his pupils blew at the suggestion. As though it had a mind of its own, his hand began to creep steadily downward, stopping at the waistband of his pants. For a moment, his brain short-circuited at the thought of not only sharing Felix in general but being inside him along with the man he had so violently hated.

He nodded, forcing himself not to move too enthusiastically, and a sly smile began to creep onto his lips.

"I don't know what Dima's working with, and you're pretty tight, but...it's part of our party, and we can take as long as we want to." His thumb curved down in an arc, expertly popping the top button of Felix's pants. "I mean, he was naked that one time but I wasn't exactly looking at his dick."

Felix blinked once and then again at the instant change upon clarification between them. With the haze of misunderstanding gone, Felix was pleased with the reaction of clarity he received.

Felix canted his hips up into Sylvain’s hand that had surreptitiously slid down his body, feeling himself beginning to stir. Threading his hands to Sylvain’s shoulder and side, Felix turned on his side, now mirroring Sylvain as his hand slipped down to palm at Sylvain’s crotch. He leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper, but the smirk that curled at his lips was unmistakable.

“You’re bigger.”

This time, the sound Sylvain made in response was positively feral. He immediately thrust his hips forward into Felix's hand in a slow grind, ego singing at the praise; while it was far from the first time a lover had remarked on his size, the words, as always, hit differently coming from Felix.

"You really think you could take both of us at once?" he murmured, leaning in to ghost his lips over Felix's. Further south, Sylvain busied his hands with jerking Felix's pants down and wrapping his fingers around one thigh to hold him in place. "I'm still not sure, but I'm more than happy to try..."

More than pleased with the vocal and physical responses received, Felix practically purred in satisfaction as Sylvain moved. Felix let himself get lost in the moment, relishing the desire he felt from Sylvain. At any time, the two were raw and without judgment; they were as they were without apology and together, somehow it just made sense. Following Sylvain’s fluid motions with practiced ease, his question gave Felix a moment of pause.

“I don’t know. And if I can’t, I guess I can’t, but…” He paused for a moment, biting his lip, “I’d like to try it.” Looking at his fiancé, Felix stroked at his cheek meant to impart as much tenderness as he could—his words never capturing the true measure of what he felt.

“I feel safe with you to try anything.”

Sylvain tilted his head to nuzzle his cheek into Felix's hand, marveling at their uncanny ability to blend tenderness and passion and the way even now, when they were literally discussing Sylvain helping another man dick Felix down to within an inch of his life, he felt cared for. Safe.

"I love you, Fe," he said, chest feeling overwhelmingly full of emotions he was now able to name, thanks to the man before him. "But...we might wanna practice a little, if that's really what you want."

With a roguish grin, Sylvain twisted to grab their well-used lube out of the nightstand, placing it on the bed beside them within convenient reach. He returned his hands to Felix's legs, content to merely stroke the tops of his thighs and gaze adoringly at him.

 

“Love you back.”

There was a rush of emotion that was intrinsically linked with what he felt for his Sylvain and every time, it felt more and more like a return to form, like home…as was the glint in his eyes as he moved further.

“Practice?” Felix repeated the word dumbly back at him when the lube was brought out. “You want to help me practice for that possibility?” Felix’s eyes shone, suddenly stinging with moisture. “Really? You’re good with the idea?”

"I mean...only if you do. No pressure!" Sylvain added hastily, wondering if by some horrible twist of fate he'd misinterpreted Felix's intentions. He raised his free hand to brush his thumb gently over Felix's cheekbone, both touched and perplexed by the tears welling up in the beautiful amber eyes he so adored.

But the follow-up question was more than reassuring and he allowed himself to relax, the fingers of the hand on Felix's thigh gradually creeping inward to push his legs apart.

On the flat of his back, Felix looked up at Sylvain, suddenly overwhelmed with the light passes over his cheekbones. Tears that had threatened to spill out finally gave way, sliding down the side of Felix‘s face.

“Help me be the best I can for you.” 

His voice came out in a choked whisper as he scrubbed his eyes. Felix widened the stretch of his thighs, feeling himself stir under the sweet pull of his muscle.

Without removing his hands, Sylvain leaned up and over Felix to kiss the tears off his cheeks in little clusters of three--their secret code for I love you, I've got you, everything will be okay. He rubbed the tip of his nose playfully against Felix's and smiled a soft, comforting smile.

"Help me be the best I can for you,” he responded, thumbs rubbing small circles on Felix's inner thighs.

In the moment, Felix was yet again taken aback by the emotional surge he found within Sylvain‘s grasp. They had shared many intimate moments and would continue to, and this was to be another. The fact that it took place in a state of preparation to introduce another into their bed was an odd thing…but it followed the regular course of things between them, somehow mixing tenderness with passion.

“Alright.” Nuzzling up into Sylvain, Felix nodded with closed eyes as he laid his head back. Upon opening and blinking away his blurred vision, Felix breathed deeply and exhaled, suddenly nervous. “Let’s do this. What do I need to do?”

Sylvain chuckled softly, warmly, at the almost businesslike determination in Felix's voice. Unlike every other time he could imagine, the subtext of his tone seemed to suggest that the next part was more of an inconvenience, something to be tolerated and finished as quickly as possible.

That was the opposite of what Sylvain planned to do. He slid his hands further up and inward, sides of his fingers just barely brushing Felix's balls. He kissed his partner long and slow before murmuring the answer against his lips.

"First, you need to relax and let me take care of you. This is just exploring, okay?"

He reluctantly moved one hand away to grab the lube, pouring only the smallest amount on his fingertips before lightly tracing Felix's hole with his index finger as he swept his tongue over the other man's bottom lip.

The languid kiss and the fleeting touches to his stiffening flesh did nothing to make Felix want to relax. As always, Sylvain’s most innocuous touches lit a fire inside him imploring action, yet, that wasn’t the point here, was it? And he wanted to be good for him, right? Rhetorical questions asked and subsequently answered, Felix met Sylvain’s pass of his tongue with his own before furrowing his brows, willing himself to relax.

“Just exploring, he says,” Felix chuckled as he pressed his lips up to Sylvain’s nose as his rim was circled, resisting the desire to grind down on the exploratory touch. “No one can take better care of me.”

"Yep, just exploring."

Sylvain's response was just this side of breathless and he found himself already getting hopelessly worked up. He turned his attention to his lover's body with laser-focus, effortlessly intuiting what he wanted most. Ever eager to please, he began to slide the digit into Felix's more than waiting body, counting a second or two between each incremental push.

"So, that's one," he whispered, then flicked his tongue against Felix's earlobe. "Think you can handle another?"

Felix sighed in almost relief at the pressure when Sylvain inserted the first finger. His breath came out shakily as he exhaled, willing himself boneless, unclenching his toes, spreading his thighs wider, tilting his neck left and right.

At the question asked, Felix barely held back the indignant scoff that threatened to tumble out of his throat. Rather than answer immediately, he worked his hips slightly, readjusting for the shallow pressure, grinding against the digit.

“You know I can.”

With a low, pleased hum, Sylvain leaned back on his heels to admire Felix while he repeated the process, working his middle finger in alongside the first.

"I do know you can," he purred. "I just wanted to hear you say it. Ready for a third?"

As he awaited a response, Sylvain crooked his fingers exactly the way he knew Felix liked, stroking long and slow across his prostate. This, Sylvain realized, was becoming a game of sorts. He bit back a whine as he felt himself twitch once between his legs and drew a breath to recenter himself.

With Sylvain’s deep and resonant answer, a self-satisfied smile curled at Felix’s lips. It was their history, their time together, the trust and knowledge they shared between each other that prompted such certainty and cockiness that only they could revel in. Yet, that smug satisfaction was abruptly cut short by the mere flick of Sylvain’s singer.

The leisurely come hither stroke of Sylvain’s fingers caused Felix to arch up with a slow roll of his body to match as his nerves alighted. He hissed out, hands at his sides, finally grasping at Sylvain’s muscled physique.

“Fuck, yes. Another, Sylvain.” 

Felix’s voice was dark and low, entrenched in lust as he thumbed over Sylvain’s pert nipples, waiting to be filled.

"Another?"

Sylvain's own voice was slightly incredulous and dripping with desire. He reached out with his unoccupied hand and poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, eyes closing in pleasure at the teasing strokes to an oft-neglected yet very sensitive body part that Felix never failed to lavish with attention.

With some effort, he began to work a third finger in alongside the other two, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to hold back a gasp. While Felix was always pleasantly snug, the clench around the added intrusion was like anything he'd ever felt before. He quickly picked up the curving motion with all three digits and a whimper.

Never mind the sweet stretch of his hole, Felix whimpered in response to Sylvain’s breathy exclamations. How someone could have an attractive gasp was fucking insane, yet Felix was absolutely lost in the addled haze of desire when Sylvain reacted to him. He matched Sylvain’s voice, joining with a litany of moans, breathy as he sought to focus his attention on his lover who held him in such careful, yet dexterous fingers.

“God, every time.” Felix caught Sylvain’s gaze as he shook his head, on the verge of writhing. “How do you always know how to touch me?”

Felix’s fingers kneaded into the raised muscles of Sylvain’s shoulders as groans of filth tumbled from his mouth as he focused on keeping his breathing level.

Sensing Felix's struggle to keep still, Sylvain planted one hand firmly on his hip bone, directly on top of the tattoo, and pressed him down to the mattress. He looked up with simmering eyes and placed a kiss so light it was barely there to the head of Felix's cock.

"I know how because I know you,” he answered, nearly overcome by a sudden swell of emotion. Then he asked, as though he weren't equally affected, "What should we do next?"

And with one look, Felix’s breath all but escaped from his lungs. His cock throbbed, pitifully leaking against his raising and falling abdomen. At the question, momentary panic set in.

What next?

What next indeed. By this time, they had long, long given in and Sylvain was balls-deep in Felix. But here they were, practicing, yet at a standstill. Panic just at the edge of his consciousness compelled him; this wouldn’t be all for naught as a thing between them, but if it was for the sake of practice? Felix’s eyes darted from Sylvain and then quickly to each side.

“Flashlight! It should still be on my belt!” Felix’s voice was urgent as he was determined to make this practice bear some sort of unorthodox fruit.

"Holy mother of god,” Sylvain swore under his breath at the suggestion. "I don't...is it even clean?”

He rifled through the nightstand and, thankfully, was able to locate both the condom and the aforementioned goddamn flashlight of all things. Somehow, he hadn't forgotten his technique and was able to sheathe the plastic beast in latex, wrinkling his nose slightly at the scent, just as unappealing as he'd remembered.

"I'm going to pull my fingers out now, okay?" Sylvain flexed his fingers one last time before slowly withdrawing them. He held the flashlight aloft between them and slicked it up generously with lube. Then, flicking his eyes between Felix's flushed cock and his face, he began to stroke it slowly and deliberately.

“Well! You said…! I panicked oka–”

Felix shut up immediately when he unsheathed the metallic beast from its holster and began to slide the condom over its bulky, unforgiving shape. Sylvain’s warning words barely caught his attention as he was focused on the latex monster Sylvain now wielded. He leaned forward, gasping as he felt the fingers leave him, instantly reverting to that familiar feeling of emptiness…

Felix didn’t remember his mouth having gone dry previously, suddenly excruciatingly aware of it as he watched the scene before him. In Sylvain’s large hands, he stroked the bastard in a maddeningly slow pace as he lay there, empty and throbbing.

“Sylvain.”

 His tone was meant to be sly or dangerous, hell, at least annoyed. But no, what came out was an utter whine full of pitiful begging.

"Yes, Fe?” Sylvain responded, squeezing the handle of the flashlight near where the tip would be if it were Felix's cock instead. He moved his hand up and down in a languid twisting motion, though his eyes remained on Felix. They gradually drifted lower and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to occupy it and keep himself from stuffing it full of dick.

He reached out and dragged the tip of his index finger along Felix's inner thigh, beginning just above the knee and traveling up to stroke lightly over his fiancé's taut sack.

"You want it bad, don't you?"

The whimper that fell from Felix’s lips was buttoned by an audible shiver from the drag of Sylvain’s finger against the soft skin gif his inner thigh. Eyes cast upwards in a desperate need, Felix nodded heavily at Sylvain.

“Real bad.”

Reduced to choppy sentences, Felix wanted to slap himself and hide away, yet the power that Sylvain had over him generally and at this very moment was nothing he could remove himself from.

“Please?”

Holy fuck, here we go was Sylvain's last coherent thought, which fluttered aimlessly through his mind before vanishing completely as he pressed the very end of the flashlight to Felix's waiting hole.

"I guess we're doing this," he muttered with a cheeky smile. With his free hand, he reached down to push Felix's cheeks apart and massage his rim with his thumb. Then he began to put it in, very gently, and was met with incredible resistance. He kept the tool in place but fixed keen eyes on Felix, looking for any sign of discomfort.

Felix’s eyes widened to comical levels as he opened his mouth, gasping fruitlessly and silently at the massive intrusion pushing ever so slowly into his opening.

Balling up his fists, Felix felt his nails dig into the palms of his hands as the unrelenting pressure continued. He hissed out air with a tumble of curses that rolled off his tongue mindlessly.

Prayers came in the form of moans of god and Sylvain and at times, the two were merciful and at others, they were nearly cruel. Felix reached out to Sylvain looking, begging for a connection, anything to help ground him in familiarity.

At the first hiss, Sylvain immediately stalled the forward motion of his hand and held perfectly still, looking to Felix's face with concern. What he found there was a perplexing, intoxicating mixture of pain and pleasure, and in that moment, Sylvain wanted to eat him up.

"Relax," he murmured. "Just let me know when I should start again, okay?"

With an impressive curl of his spine, Sylvain arched forward to take Felix's cock fully into his mouth, slowly sucking in until his hollowed cheeks were pressed against either side of the impressive shaft. He allowed his eyelids to flutter, lashes dark across freckled cheeks.

As if set by clockwork—and perhaps it was—with the natural rhythm of his body’s well-established habit, Felix extended his arms out to Sylvain, threading his fingers through the thick mop of auburn hair.

The touch that Sylvain had was next to nothing…that was a lie. Sylvain could give head like a fucking champion. Of course Felix didn’t have anything to compare it to, but he didn’t think that anyone could be better. When Sylvain took him in his mouth once again, Felix forgot to clench as he pressed back into the mattress with a low moan.

“Fuck, yeah. So good, goddamnit.” 

The string of breathy exclamations and curses were no literal orders, but conveyed all together, hopefully, a clear go ahead.

Satisfied--no, pleased– with the reaction he got from Felix at the first contact, Sylvain began to alternate long, hard sucks with shorter, lighter strokes of his tongue. That Felix could be so wanton and trusting by turns was quite unlike anything Sylvain had seen before in his life.

"So good for me," he murmured as he briefly came up for air before he was at it again. He began to press forward anew with the flashlight, this time gaining a hard-fought inch.

Felix was now reduced to varying pitches of moans and groans. He pressed his teeth into his lower lip, biting down into it, stifling his desperate sounds and his attempt to focus at remaining as loose and relaxed as he could. In the incredible stretch, he tilted his hips up in a meager attempt to  find any way to open himself up further for the large intrusion.

“Yeah,” he panted, “want to be good for you.” Felix clawed and threaded his fingers at Sylvain‘s hair pulling at the roots and scratching his nails against his scalp.

In lieu of attempting further penetration for now, Sylvain dropped his free hand to rub gently at Felix's stretched rim. He closed his eyes and released his own moan at the sensation of Felix's blunt nails scratching and tugging exactly the way he liked, a light shiver running through him.

Unwilling to miss even a second, Sylvain forced his eyes open again to focus on the incredible sight before him. For all the many times he'd taken Felix completely apart (and vice versa), he'd never before seen the man look even half as wrecked. He closed his lips around the tip of Felix's cock and suckled hard, swirling his tongue across the slick, heated flesh.

Felix was quickly losing his grip on his control as he was assaulted from all angels with such agonizingly pleasurable experiences. With the extra sensation of the finger at his rim and the insatiable mouth at the tip of his sensitive cock, there was no way Felix could last. With his arms nearly going numb, he pulled feebly at Sylvain’s hair to tug him off his dick to little avail.

“Shitshitshit–”

With zero ceremony or warning, Felix came abruptly, hands twisting further into Sylvain’s hair, grinding down against the wide implement as his hole spasmed through his orgasm.

Sylvain was honestly impressed with how long Felix had managed to last--he doubted even he would have had the stamina, which was only further testament to just how badly Felix wanted both him and Dimitri at the same time.

His eyes flew wide in surprise at the first powerful wave of Felix's release and he swallowed hard, trying to catch every drop. Meanwhile, he moved his wrist in short, rapid pulses, not trying to push the tool further into Felix's body but to tease him as he rode out his pleasure.

Felix whited out for an instant as his body writhed in that moment of ecstasy. Slowly coming down from the exceptional high, Felix whimpered, voice coming back in needy rises that now came in time with the flick of Sylvain’s wrists.

“Sylvain,” Felix whined plaintively, “you didn’t pull off. I tried to tell you.” At some point, his hands had left Sylvain’s head entirely and were in tight, balled fists to his side.

"Oops," Sylvain said cheekily, drawing back to lick his lips. "Sorry, Fe."

But the mischievous glint in his eye implied that he was anything but sorry. He paused the movement of his wrist and reached up with his other hand to tenderly stroke Felix's cheek. Then he glanced down at the flashlight, finding himself completely out of his depth as to what to do next.

"Do you want me to pull it out, or keep going, or...?"

Even wrecked beyond all belief, Felix still had the presence of mind to roll his eyes fondly at Sylvain's response. Rather than presence of mind, maybe it was something closer to habit, something so natural that it took no extra processing. This was his Sylvain and Sylvain would always and forever assuredly remain Sylvain.

Reaching down, Felix swatted at Sylvain's wrist. 

"Never mind that fucking thing right now." Felix curled up and weakly tugged at Sylvain's side. "You. I want you inside me. Come here."

Despite his concern over causing Felix pain, the begging--always so demanding, even when the voice in which it was delivered was weak--snapped the last of Sylvain's self control. He eased the tool out as gently as possible, then positioned himself between Felix's legs.

"Good choice," he muttered. "I was starting to get jealous of it."

Sylvain held his breath for a moment as he lubed up his long-neglected cock with trembling fingers, then massaged Felix's stretched entrance. He exhaled shakily at the sight, then lifted his gaze to Felix's as he began to slowly thrust in.

"How the fuck do you still feel tight?" he whined under his breath, sliding his hands up to dig his fingers into Felix's hips.

When Sylvain removed the tool, the wide stretch, wider than he had ever experienced before lessened to nothing leaving Felix with a huff of air. Though the stretch was gone, there was little in comparison to the empty feeling he had come to know and expect. Felix might've lingered on this difference had he not been completely focused on Sylvain.

A terrible, awful, no-good part of Felix reacted with a distinct pleasure upon hearing of Sylvain's jealousy. Of course Felix wasn't interested in being malicious and weaponizing those strong feelings, but it didn't make it any less pleasurable. Even when only said in passing, there was a part of Felix that leapt at the idea Sylvain could feel such things simply because he wasn't the one directly affecting Felix. That selfish pleasure plus the actual feeling of Sylvain's cock pressing into him made Felix's back arch as his equally needy hands reached to Sylvain's wrists.

"I told you," he panted out, voice cracking as his lips spread into a coy grin, "you've shaped me to you and only you."

The familiar, welcoming heat of Felix's body was nearly overwhelming. Almost immediately upon initial entry, Sylvain pulled back and thrust in again hard with a low, helpless moan. The sly statement sent a thrill throughout Sylvain from head to toe and he whimpered softly as he looked down at his partner.

"Guess that's too bad for Dima, then, huh?" he panted, leaning down to tug at Felix's bottom lip with his teeth. "So...which do you prefer? Me, or the flashlight?"

The sudden thrust sent a surge of nearly painful overstimulation throughout Felix’s body as he groaned loudly, their voices joining together as they reverberated off the metal walls. With Sylvain falling forward and suckling at his lip, Felix hooked his ankles behind his hips, holding Sylvain close, fully sheathed.

“Guess it’s too bad, then.”

Pulling back, Felix pressed down into the bed as he could to look at his lover. Sylvain in all his glory, heated muscles flesh, dotted in perspiration with a look of hunger that never failed to affect Felix in the best of ways.

“It’s not even a competition,” Felix ground his hips up, feeling every goddamn inch of Sylvain. The brush against his prostate made him whimper, throwing his arms around Sylvain’s broad shoulders. “You. Always you.”

The pressure at his back only served to spur Sylvain on; while he wasn't able to draw back enough for a proper thrust, he relished the closeness, the way Felix clung to him in every way imaginable. He moved his hips in a slow, deep stirring motion, hands sliding down to cup his partner's ass and draw him even closer.

"Yours," he managed to grit out, struggling to form words as pleasure built in his core. "Hah, fuck…yours, Fe."

Sylvain's expression turned to something soft and sweet and affectionate as he continued to grind into Felix, his eyes full of admiration and slightly damp.

With Sylvain’s hands on his ass, Felix had never felt more filled than he now found himself. Felix rocked slowly at a torturous pace with Sylvain, moan after moan escaping his lungs and lips. Limbs entwined, the differentiation between the two became even slimmer as they moved closely in concert.

When Felix looked up to Sylvain, this close, he could see the telltale glassiness in the man’s soulful eyes. With a tremulous quiver in his lip, it was a natural reaction that Felix leaned up placing twin kisses at each eye’s edge and a third, soft press at his lips. As he pulled back, Felix was unsure of the face he was showing Sylvain, but he knew it was one fraught with emotion.

Sylvain sank short, blunt nails into the supple flesh of Felix's ass and sighed into the gentle kiss to his lips. With each of his innumerable past partners, he'd feigned tenderness and intimacy, and he'd gotten so good at it over time that he began to think the emotions themselves didn't actually exist.

But as always, with Felix, none of it was for show. He leaned down more, now practically folding Felix in half, and sealed their lips together.

"Close," he gasped into his fiancé's mouth, the formerly smooth movements of his hips becoming shorter and more choppy. "Fuck, you feel incredible. Like you were made for me."

From the extreme angle, Felix’s hands moved desperately against Sylvain’s back, his nails digging and clawing at the taut muscle.

“I might’ve been,” Felix rasped out in one rushed breath. He wasn’t a spiritual man by any means, but damn if Felix didn’t have a religious experience every time he was with Sylvain—that had to mean something.

“I love you, Sylvain.” His declaration of love was followed by a sharpening of his features as he clenched down, eyes narrowing in mischievousness. “Now ruin me.”

The fierce clench--entirely intentional, judging by the delivery and the cheeky look on Felix's face that accompanied it--sent Sylvain toppling over the edge with a muffled shout of Felix's name. He bit down hard into his own lip until he tasted blood, nails nearly breaking the skin as he fucked him ruthlessly into the mattress. He angled his hips down to trap Felix's cock between them, his own throbbing heavily in his partner's body as he came hard enough that he actually felt lightheaded.

"Fe," he slurred, rolling onto his side and pulling the smaller man into his embrace. "God damnit.”

The sounds of effort, pain, and pleasure that Sylvain managed to pull out of Felix defied all rationality. Deep into overstimulation territory, Felix’s voice rang out in come combination of the three and he couldn’t fucking care less. As he clung to his fiancé for what seemed like dear life as Sylvain set to work doing exactly what Felix had demanded. He nearly saw stars when he felt Sylvain’s cock pulse inside him, filling him in a way the large tool could never.

Rather than stay a moment longer at the severe angle, when Sylvain rolled to the side, Felix was dragged with him, easily slotting to his chest, head under his chin. Other than Sylvain’s explicative, the two remained silent, both with labored breaths with the rapid rise and fall of their chests. This duality was emblematic of their entire relationship: one moment they were rough and feral, the next, soft and gentle—never once lacking for passion.

“Yeah?” Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain, nuzzling under his chin, relishing the tight, possessive embrace.

"Yeah," Sylvain agreed, running his hands slowly up and down Felix's back in a display of care and tenderness he'd never given to anyone else. "Yeah."

It was all he could say; as far as he knew, there was no guidebook for what to do after you'd literally put a household implement into your partner's ass. Sylvain nuzzled his face into Felix's hair, smiling as the silky strands tickled his skin.

"So," he said after falling silent for a long moment, content to merely listen to their breathing as it slowly evened out, "that was something. I was not expecting it to be that hot, honestly, but seeing you like that, desperate and asking for more even when you weren't sure if you could handle it? God damn,” he repeated, voice full of something like awe.

“You know I like a challenge. So why wouldn’t I like something like this?” 

Felix’s answer came off a bit more defensively than originally intended. Only now after their heart rates had fallen could Felix truly take account of his feelings and only then did he realize the spike of anger and disappointment he felt. Felix took not being able to perform better with the metal tool as a slight against his entire person. For all the adoration and adulation Sylvain gave him on a regular basis, this was entirely a personal hang up.

“At least you didn’t have to watch yourself tease and jack off a flashlight.” Felix tilted his head up towards Sylvain. “You have any idea how fucking good you look stroking a damn Maglite?” Felix shook his head, “That shouldn’t be a thing.”

"Do I?" Sylvain asked with a coquettish bat of his lashes. He knew damn well how good he looked--Felix told him often enough that he was starting to think even devouring an entire plate of spaghetti with his bare hands would be attractive to the man and god damn, was he ever grateful for it. "I feel like it made you jealous..."

And he was also grateful for that. He pecked a tiny trail of kisses from Felix's forehead down to the tip of his nose, smiling softly against the warm skin. One hand traveled up and over Felix's shoulder to stroke the side of his neck, doing his best to impart all the love he felt for the man into one simple touch.

"So, do we, uh, keep practicing, or...?"

“Only you could make me actually jealous of an inanimate object.” Felix huffed an indignant breath of air at Sylvain’s statement. “Fucking black magic…”

Felix grumbled tamely, moving his head compliantly with the kisses Sylvain deigned to trail down his face. When his next question came, however, Felix felt at a loss.

He busied himself with twisting the curl at Sylvain’s nape as he force himself to take account of reality. “I don’t know,” Felix responded both reluctantly and honestly. “I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

"If it's worth watching me do some excellent foreplay on a flashlight, or something else?"

Sylvain practically purred at the gentle fingers toying with his hair and leaned into the sensation slightly. He forced any and all anxiety back down to where it belonged--out of sight and out of mind--and began to stroke his own fingers through Felix's hair as he pondered the meaning behind his fiancé's words.

“No!” Felix’s fingers paused their motions as he answered with an alarming vigor that was unexpected even to him. He shook his head under Sylvain’s chin in an attempt to clarify. "God, no. I’m always here for any foreplay, you know that. And now,” Felix nodded his head towards the latex monster, “now we know that’s very true.”

Felix paused for a moment to gather himself. He didn’t want to linger on his own self-disappointments, no one did. But in the light of miscommunication—especially where Sylvain’s worry and doubt could seep in—he had no desire to leave things vague.

“I meant if it’s worth practicing more. If I should even do that.” Felix felt the weight of his words and the implications that followed. If he tried and couldn’t, that would be a failure on his part. He looked up at the side of Sylvain’s face trying to gauge his reaction. “I don’t want to disappoint.”

Sylvain's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before a slow, sly grin began to spread across his lips. But it stopped midway at the tiny, timid confession and he held Felix even tighter, instinctively trying to impart comfort.

"Uh, don't know if you realized just how much of that beast went into you, but honestly? I was impressed. And I didn't want to hurt you...it's not something that'll happen overnight. But..." He paused to kiss the top of Felix's head, followed by a brief nuzzle. "If you don't want to, that's okay, too. I love you, and you're never a disappointment, Fe."

 

The care was obvious in Sylvain's words, but his tone and actions as well. That the man could be rough and dangerous but gentle and sensitive in turn never ceased to amaze Felix. It was that his partner was always so deft and multifaceted that gave Felix the confidence to be as open and vulnerable as he was. And time and time again, he was rewarded for his faith in Sylvain.

"Thank you."

His words were hardly more than a whisper as he pressed up, impossibly closer to Sylvain. Though his mind had yet to be cleared from his own self-laid doubts, Felix was well on his way to understanding that Sylvain wouldn't lead him astray.

The hand on the side of Felix's neck slipped back and down to cup the nape, fingertips scratching gently against his scalp as though his partner were truly an oversized cat, as his namesake suggested. Sylvain's eyes half-lidded in contentment and he marveled at how the simplest act of care could make him feel good, too.

"You're welcome," he responded in the same whispery tone. "I will never, ever force you to do anything you don't want, Fe. Swear it on my life."

Felix nodded slightly under Sylvain's chin. How someone could be so confident and elicit such a feeling of trust in his speech without hardly saying a word. Were Sylvain Gautier not one of the best jaeger pilots the world had to offer, he could make a damn fine living with his mouth...well, that way, too.

A small smile curled at Felix's lip.

 "I know you won't. I was trying to push myself,” he admitted out loud as he sniffed, his voice dipping lower and softer, "I want to be the best I can for you."

Sylvain once again leaned even closer, this time to press his cheek firmly against Felix's, enjoying the warmth and closeness. He sighed a happy sigh at the smile--though both he and Felix were prone to dark moments, some of them extremely dark, they always seemed to find a way to bring the other back.

Come back to me. Felix's voice rang in his ears and Sylvain clutched him even tighter.

"You already are," he murmured warmly. "I don't want you to try to be anything you're not. I fell in love with you. And even if you change over time, I'll still love you. I...didn't think I could love anyone before we met, Fe." His own voice dropped lo and he spoke slowly, deliberately to quell the emotion behind his words.

Felix was unable to smother the strangled noise that escaped his throat at Sylvain's emotion-filled words. The sentiment tugged at his heart. Instinctively, reflexively, everything in his body curled around Sylvain. It wasn't until they had been together that Felix had wanted to be so close to anyone. And with Sylvain, he couldn't be close enough.

"You could. You've always had this in you, I know you have." Not minding their mutual mess now cooling into stiff splotches on his skin, Felix clung against him, voice low and intimate. "You could, but...I'm glad you're discovering it with me."

In response to Felix's silent request for further contact, Sylvain slung one long leg over the shorter man's hip and drew him close. The rapidly-cooling stickiness against their skin, while something he would normally find distasteful at best, now only served to reinforce the connection they had with each other.

"Fuck, you're amazing." He retracted his head enough to seal his lips over Felix's in a slow, sensual kiss unlike any of the ones they'd exchanged earlier. When he drew back, he glanced between them with a light laugh. "And we should probably get cleaned up."

Chapter 79: Behind the Glitter and Veneer

Summary:

"Good!" she chirped, drawing up a rolling stool topped with a red velvet pouf. She gently pushed Felix's legs apart and placed her hands on his knees, head cocked, studying her new canvas. After a moment, she began to hum and sing lightly under her breath as she selected shadows and brushes.

"First time being made up, Felix?"

Chapter Text

Though they now practically lived in the same room, Sylvain had opted to go back to his own to dress for the party. He was eternally grateful that he'd burned all of his suits immediately after enlistment, right before he left for basic training. As such, his outfit was understated but scandalous...if you looked at it properly.

He turned this way and that before his mirror, smoothing down the almost-indecently snug black satin shirt and tugging at his jeans, cut to display some of his very best assets. He raked his hands through his hair a final time, lips pursed as he attempted to arrange a curl just-so to drape roguishly over one eyebrow.

Finally satisfied, he went next door to Felix's room and politely knocked. While he could have just barged in and been welcomed with warm open arms, Sylvain felt that given the nature of the evening, knocking would only be proper.

Hours before their party was to be held, Felix stood alone in his room staring at himself in the mirror. The man wore a rictus grin that was forced beyond all measure, a sad attempt at correcting the grimace that formed. The only suit Felix had in his closet was the one he had bought for Glenn and Rodrigue's funeral. And lo and behold, a handful of years later, it still fit. Hooray.

This wasn't it. Not by a fucking long shot. If this was going to be a day of celebration, and by fucking God it was going to be, this wasn't the look, not any of it. Felix stripped and changed back into non-descript clothes as he racked his brain. He knew good and goddamn well that Sylvain was bound to stun. There was something he could wear, something he could do to stand out or at least be in the same ballpark as his fiancé. And when he thought of looks and careful presentation, he thought only of one person.

Jumping up, he left his room in a hurry down the opposite corridor to one, Dorothea Arnault's room. Raising his fist, Felix knocked on the door.

Dorothea had been smack-dab in the middle of her long, leisurely process of getting ready for the day when a knock interrupted her reverie--and her music. She wrapped her short, silky red dressing gown more firmly around her and paused the playlist, fully prepared to be irritated by the intrusion.

To her surprise, her doorway was darkened by none other than Felix Fraldarius, notoriously spiky and secretly soft jaeger pilot. She stepped aside and gestured into her room, fixing him with a dazzling smile.

"Felix!" she exclaimed in her usual velvety, effervescent tone. "What brings you here? Pardon the mess...got in a little late last night."

That she'd gotten drowned her sorrows in booze and then pussy--namely, pussy belonging to someone who remarkably resembled Edelgard, except her eyes were all wrong--went unsaid.

Walking into Dorothea's room was a trip. For as similar as she seemed to Sylvain, the similarities stopped at their personalities and the walls they put up. Definitelynot their housekeeping. Over their time together, Felix had become comfortable with the meticulous cleaner and organizer that Sylvain was. Everything had its place and everything was spic and span. Dorothea however...everything was clean enough but the messiness, the likely, precise chaos that surrounded her gave Felix a shock.

"Thanks, sorry for barging in...I needed to," Felix shook his head, grumbling, "I didn't need something I just...". Rolling his eyes at himself, Felix looked at Dorothea beseechingly, "Can you help me figure out what to do for the party?" Felix's eyes cast down the silky sheen of the red gown she wore, nearly in awe at the immense beauty held in such ease.

With a low voice, he continued. "I was thinking about some kind of makeup..."

"Ooh!" She practically squealed, bringing her hands together in delight, palms inward. "What kind of makeup at you thinking? Maybe a subtle, smoky eye? Or some kind of fun design...you have lovely eyes, Felix."

Dorothea leaned in close to purr her final words. While she had no plans to intrude on his relationship with Sylvain, she had noticed over the time they'd known each other that something about her presence seemed to fluster the pilot in a way no man had ever responded before. God knew her ego needed a boost; she'd take whatever she could get.

"Anyway," she called over her shoulder as she began to rifle through her vanity table to find some cosmetics, "you look good without, but with the right makeup? Sylvain won't be able to keep his eyes off you. Or his hands, for that matter." She punctuated the statement with a cheeky wink.

“Uh…”

Felix stuttered as the woman swept past him like an unseasonably harsh torrent. She was one way and then the other, never ceasing, never easing, her presence omnipresent and undeniable. And Felix was just a buoy in her ever shifting seas.

“I don’t know anything about makeup  and definitely have no idea what you just said, so I would defer to you.” He shook his head quickly, “I’m not looking to really stand out, just…accentuate and highlight?” Felix finished on a questionable high note. It had been many years, but he thought he remembered Ingrid mentioning those two things. Though at this point, he could just be making this up; it wasn’t like she knew what she was doing either. He watched Dorothea with a look of pleading.

In lieu of bringing the cosmetics to Felix, she guided him over to the table with a soft, gentle hand on his back, easing him down onto the vanity stool and flicking on the circular lights. He suppressed a mild grimace at what she saw: while Felix, more than plenty good-looking on his own, looked positively sallow and ragged. With a perfectly-manicured nail, she reached out and tapped at the lighting controls until it was a more natural hue.

With that settled, she pulled up another chair, pressing her knees together and leaning in close enough for the final dying notes of last night's orchid and musk perfume wafted into his nostrils.

Dorothea deftly uncapped an eyeliner crayon. With well-practiced ease, she quickly outlined sharp amber eyes, the line slim at the inner corner but gradually extending to a subtle flick at the outer corners.

"What do you think?" she said, wrapping an arm around his waist and feeling proud of both of them. "And we can always do more, if you want. Why not? Have fun!

Guided by Dorothea’s hands, Felix moved easily into the seat and was subsequently blinded by the obtrusive light of her vanity. Blinking hard, one eye and then the other, he jolted, becoming rigid as Dorothea immediately invaded his space. Felix sat stock-still as she traced the line of his eye; his hands curled and gripped tightly against his leg, willing himself not to flinch or move until she sat back.

“Uh,” Felix’s lashes fluttered as he blinked in an attempt to adjust his vision. “That was quick,” he remarked before leaning forward to examine the woman’s work. 

And what fine work it was. The smooth darkened lid brought out the amber properties in his eyes, seemingly elongating his lashes, and somehow both softened and defined his already angular features. Felix hadn’t realized if, but at some point, his hand had moved to cover Dorothea’s arm as it laid on him.

“I like it a lot. A lot.” Felix busied himself by turning his head every which way in the mirror, viewing her work. “What else is there?”

Dorothea's skin tingled lightly at the touch and she smiled, clearly pleased with Felix's response. Without removing his hand, she reached up and touched the high angle of his cheek gently, stroking the pad of her thumb over the outer corner of his eyes.

"What do we think, a little glitter? Since you boys had so much fun with it...you know, Felix,” she added, dropping her voice into the silky timbre she knew he liked--"I bet Sylvain won't be able to take his eyes off of you. Or his hands, for that matter."

Felix swallowed hard, his stature becoming rigid again. Whatever sweet smell Dorothea wore was stronger now, on the cusp of intoxicating. Up this close, her dazzling emerald eyes were deeper, somehow even more complex—like Felix could get lost in them—and perhaps he did.

The touch to his cheek alerted him, shaking him from her verdant trance. Though, it didn’t stop him from sighing, leaning ever so slightly into her touch. Her touch was gentle and perfectly pleasing…but it was too small, too soft. From somewhere deep within him, he missed Sylvain’s  large calloused pads, slightly scratching against him with each pass. And if glitter was the avenue he had to traverse to get that touch, to get those rough hands on him, he was indeed interested.

“If you think glitter’ll do all that,” Felix blinked slowly, his eyes lidding, “then I say yes.”

"Good!" she chirped, drawing up a rolling stool topped with a red velvet pouf. She gently pushed Felix's legs apart and placed her hands on his knees, head cocked, studying her new canvas. After a moment, she began to hum and sing lightly under her breath as she selected shadows and brushes.

"First time being made up, Felix?" 

She tapped the brush's handle against the side of her lips to remove excess pigment before lifting it. Then, in a stroke of genius, she set the olive green glitter aside entirely and began to work shades of teal and crimson into Felix's pale lids, expertly blending out to the edges.

She sat back and smiled at her own work. She had so few opportunities to play these days and with such a beautiful canvas? Anyone would be pleased. She took up a small dotter, poked it into some silvery shimmer, and dabbed at the very inner corners of Felix's eyes.

Holding a hand mirror aloft, she asked, "Well? What do you think?"

Felix sat still with a bit more ease in their renewed, closer positions as she worked her magic. And magic it was. When Felix opened his eyes, his mouth dropped.

“These are Adder’s colors. Our colors.” 

Somehow, she had melded teal into crimson with a fluid ease, even the glitter offering the glint of chrome that they had become intimately familiar with. His eyes darted to hers as if for confirmation. The second statement sank in as a warming sensation pooled at his core at with gratitude, with sentimentality, with a desire to share that good feeling.

"They are," she said softly. In truth, she'd been enviously eyeing both men's rings since their introduction into this wild, wicked world, and she often found herself wishing she had one with Edie...and what theirs might look like. In a voice that was uncharacteristically small she asked, "Do you like it?"

The expression on his face, of course, said it all; Dorothea had succeeded, had atoned for one 

more of her multitude of sins by doing good for others instead of herself---even if she enjoyed it. 

Felix grasped her hand over the mirror, setting it on their laps. Once again face to face, Felix met her gaze and asked with a genuine sincerity, “What are your and Edelgard’s colors?”

The expression on Dorothea’s pretty face turned distant and wistful at the mention of her ex-lover's name.

"I liked lavender. She liked red."

Suddenly self-conscious, Dorothea began toy with her robe's silken tie, though her eyes remained on Felix all the while.

“You did an amazing job, Dorothea.” 

And truly, she did; the woman was an artist at heart. Her voice was sonorous and her skills with a brush were enviable. And here Felix was, in her presence benefitting from it all, simply due to an impulsive whim and her generosity alone.

Yet even as he could sing praises that she would revel in, he saw the shift in her demeanor upon Edelgard’s mention. There was undeniably something there. Felix had wondered in the days since they invited the captain herself if they had made a miscalculation. But from that day so long ago in the mess hall, albeit with remorse, how gently and reverently she had spoken of her ex-lover to her anxious display now? Felix was positive—there was something that had remained.

Leaning forward himself, Felix took the red satin sash she was toying with in his hand as he held her left. In a swift motion, Felix pulled at the sash’s slack, folded it, and wrapped it around her left finger—a stark, bright mirror of his own crimson band. Looking up at her, Felix didn’t notice the way the fabric had shifted on her person, but only stayed holding her gaze and now, her hand.

“Red suits you. And lavender would compliment the Captain just as well.”

Though Dorothea and idle flattery were old friends by now, there was something about the absolute, undeniable sincerity in Felix's words that drew a fierce blush to her cheeks.

The comment about lavender, however, shook her to her core and so she defaulted to her native coping mechanism, which she had learned was not at all unlike Sylvain's.

"Would you like to find out how it responds to various activities? How all my hard work holds up and so on...could be an experiment. Whatever you want."

Though it was a higher pitch, it was no less breathy. The way Dorothea leaned, the way she purred, no less seductive and to Felix's now trained ear, no less put-on. Maybe he didn't pull away because of the familiarity between she and Sylvain. Maybe it was that he now knew both the bark and the bite that came with the territory. Regardless of the reason, despite the blush that literally paled in comparison to her own, Felix didn't shy away from Dorothea, quite the opposite.

Felix moved forward, closing the distance as he raised Dorothea's chin with a light touch. He looked at her evenly, not losing her gaze.

"I trust your hard work. I need no test. But you." He paused for a moment, his hand grasping her left on their slotted legs. "What do you need?"

"Well, a handsome young man such as yourself touching me like that isn't hurting anything," she simpered, throwing Felix a coy smirk. "And, as always, if you boys are looking for a third of the female variety..."

But the stark knowingness behind his words put Dorothea on edge. In lieu of flinching, she ran the edge of one delicately manicured fingernail along the seam of her dressing down, purposely avoiding eye contact.

Even in the odd situation he found himself in, Felix found himself resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the answer that was oh-so-Sylvain. Before his tone turned to one of annoyance, where frustration would seep into every aspect of his speech, she relented in her façade for a moment.

Felix slid his hand back, gently cupping Dorothea's soft, pristine, warm cheek. His voice matched his touch, gentle, supportive, soft. He recalled meeting the captain...and her unique eyes.

“What's the significance of lavender?"

"Never mind," she said just as quietly, though she didn't pull away from the touch, lifting her eyes instead to Felix's. Her own emerald gaze silently telegraphed You already know. Please don't make me say it.

Dorothea raised her hand to cover Felix's and all the artifice fell from her expression like a veil tumbling down, leaving only raw emotion in its wake. Her lips twitched curiously but she said nothing, caught in the borderlands of memory...and admiring her handiwork.

When she answered Felix with a deflection, the pleading look in her eyes spoke volumes. An understanding that hadn't been there before formed when emerald met amber. His hand now held, Felix didn't remove their positions and swiped his finger at her high cheekbone.

"I think you should wear lavender."

With the silent trepidation she showed, the thought of mentioning their personal invite to the Captain all but disappeared from his mind. All that remained was ensuring Dorothea's, whether it was confidence, security, or what, Felix didn't know. He wanted her to be stronger for those memories and for that association that she clearly held so dear.

Dorothea's eyes watered and she blinked fiercely, long sooty lashes sopping up the beginnings of tears before they could fall. She nodded once, stroking her fingers thoughtfully over the back of Felix's hand.

"I guess I could...I might be able to throw a little something together." She smiled wanly and sighed. "Thank you, Felix. I'm...glad you and Sylvain found each other. Everyone deserves a chance to have what you have."

"Thank you." The corner of Felix's lips turned upwards as he smiled softly. This close, this raw, he felt as if he was finally, truly seeing Dorothea—and he was all the better for it. Unsure of himself, but letting the moment take him, Felix leaned forward, tentatively resting his forehead against her own. "I don't doubt that you can."

Whether the statement was in reference to her ability to throw a look together or a reminder that she was indeed among those deserving and able to have such happiness went unsaid.

Dorothea's eyes widened at the unexpected physical contact. While her previous conversations with Felix suggested that the man had a soft side, it was apparently more pronounced than she'd first thought.

"You're a good man, Felix," she murmured. "Sylvain's lucky to have you." Her eyes scanned his makeup once more, checking for any flaws now that she was up-close. Finding none, she gave him a gentle peck on the cheek and drew back. "Now behave yourself. You're a soon-to-be-married man."

Huffing a dry chuckle, the red that bloomed from where her lips pressed against his cheeks were no coincidence as he mirrored her movements, sitting back in his seat. From their slotted knees, Felix took up the hand mirror again, admiring her deft work.

“Do you think you could do this for me on the night of?” Felix’s eyes darted to Dorothea. “I could come over as early as you wanted and pay you whatever’s fair for your time.”

"Of course, Felix. No charge."

Dorothea watched him admire her work with a smile, hand gently stroking his knee. She wondered if they'd let her do their makeup for the actual wedding, or if it was even possible to have a wedding on the base. She hoped so, but they were living in strange times and with new threats appearing seemingly every day, the future seemed impossible to plan for.

"You look stunning,” she breathed, forcing herself to focus on the here-and-now. "Those lips. Those eyes! Sylvain will be wild for you. Not that he isn't already."

“Really? You’d do that?” Felix pulled up the mirror again to look at his eye makeup to set it down quickly again, just to look back up at Dorothea. Felix’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open into a slight o.

Felix’s already red cheeks darkened even further as he sat a bit further back, shrinking away from Dorothea’s heavy compliments.

“It’s the eye crayon and shadow.” Felix shook his head, waving away her words. “It did a lot. But,” he looked up at Dorothea under his elongated lashes, “you think he’ll like this? It’s not too much?”

"Well, I had a pretty nice canvas to start with," Dorothea responded flirtatiously with a wave of her hand. "But thank you, Felix. It was all a matter of choosing the right colors."

She arched a well-manicured brow in disbelief at the follow-up question and made a soft tutting sound under her breath. "'Too much,' please. Have you met Sylvain? The man is the very definition of 'too much.'"

But there was a smile in her tone as she said it, and her mind was already whirring with possibilities for making Sylvain up, too. "What's your  favorite color?" she asked suddenly, reaching out to brush her fingertips across Felix's cheek.

Despite himself, Felix let out a dry chuckle. Yes, he had indeed met Sylvain and he’d be hard pressed not to equate Sylvain with anything but excess in that regard. The genial tone she used was light and airy, not emblematic of any hidden meaning or sarcasm.

Taking a moment, when her hand went freely to his face, Felix realized in that moment the absolute ease he felt. There was a camaraderie or bond between Dorothea and he that felt natural. As such he remained, enjoying her gentle touch that grew less foreign by the moment.

“My favorite color is actually teal.” He offered a softer smile, something vaguely remorseful, “Just how Adder’s chassis was.”

Dorothea's soft smile grew sly and she leaned into Felix's personal space again, close enough that the faint peony notes of her perfume wafted into his nose. She gave a little sigh and a half-nod, closing her eyes for a moment to picture it.

"Yes, Sylvain would look wonderful in teal eyeshadow, don't you think? He has the prettiest brown eyes..."

Dorothea opened her own eyes again and offered Felix a mischievous smile, one fingertip trailing down the bridge of his nose to press at the center of his lips.

"We used silver glitter on you...gold on Sylvain, or something else?"

Felix watched Dorothea as she moved closer, almost wishing he could be in whatever vision her headspace had created in the moment before her eyes fluttered back open.

Suddenly close again, Felix swallowed hard as Dorothea’s face fell from angelic to devilish in an instant. Felix felt as if his skin was burning at the edge as her fingertip trailed down his features. He swallowed hard before turning his face, necessarily dragging his lips across her finger.

“Sylvain would look great with anything.” Felix’s voice came out quietly. “Especially gold.”

"Mmhmm," Dorothea echoed, dragging her finger down and pulling Felix's bottom lip with it. She felt as though she were dancing on a minefield, given that she'd fucked the man they were discussing, but her life's philosophy was always to go until the director pulled her back--and then some.

She lifted her other hand to trace dainty fingertips over one of Felix's cheekbones. 

"What do we think about some gold sparkles here, to go with his freckles? And then maybe a little lip stain..."

Her other thumb caressed Felix's bottom lip as she thoughtfully studied his face, simultaneously admiring his handsome visage while creating plans for his partner.

Felix swallowed hard as the space around him began to feel heavy and fraught with possibilities…and danger. In this moment, Dorothea was equal parts boon and bane and Felix hadn’t been prepared to experience something so thoroughly out of his league. Her hands now caressing his face were soft and lovely, but they were hers, and she was not his. He mouthed a peck to her finger at his lips. 

“I think only you’d make my Sylvain even more beautiful.”

"Well, good," she purred. "I want to make both of you beautiful for each other."

Thumb still pressed to Felix's lips, Dorothea extended her fingers to brush at the dark strands near Felix's temples. She made a contented sound and slid her hand back to toy with the band holding his hair up, green eyes inquisitive.

"May I?" Her voice was low and sweet as she leaned in, gaze locked on his. "As a trial run. I'd like to see how you look with your hair down, if you don't mind."

Felix was hyper aware of how  they were situated, but the why they were situated thusly completely evaded him. So close to Dorothea, his senses were inundated with her florally laden scent, again, finding himself trapped in her gaze.

Rather than answering the question at hand, Felix remained silent. His eyes never left hers as he nodded, leaning his head into and pulling against her traveling hand as his dark, silky strands fell around his shoulders.

Dorothea held her breath and her eyes widened slightly as Felix's hair fell. She suddenly felt as though she were seeing something private, something not meant for her, and a subtle flush rose to her cheeks.

With careful hands, she began to arrange Felix's hair, moving it this way and that before weaving it into a loose braid over one shoulder. After a moment of fussing with his bangs, she finally positioned them over one eye in a way she liked and smiled, satisfied with her work.

“Stunning,” she purred.

Felix extended his neck, eyes cast down as Dorothea's hands went to work. Weaving his dark strands to and fro, a thick braid began to form at his side, down his neck. His gaze remained trained on her hands that refused to rest, falling over his opposite side, brushing his bangs in front of his face from the braided collection.

With the announcement of her assessment, Felix pushed back his gathered bangs behind his ear in a rare form of timidity. Looking from under his lashes and partially frustrated at the copious compliments, Felix spoke quickly, trying to beat the red flush that threatened to overtake his face.

"I'm okay. If you want stunning, you should look in the mirror."

Dorothea smiled at the uncharacteristic display of shyness and brushed the backs of her knuckles over Felix's flushed cheek. She fussed with his bangs a moment longer, admiring his features, and then leaned in and planted a chaste, careful kiss to one cheekbone.

"Thanks, handsome," she said, drawing back. "So, have you two made any actual plans for the wedding?"

Taking and fraying the end of his braid, Felix spoke idly, “Not really. Don’t really know the base’s policy on wedding ceremonies.”

There was a small building in the base that served as a house of worship that catered to the most basic tenants of different religions. It sufficed for those that practiced or those that attempted to find solace in praying at something in the dark days that had been heralded since the first breach. But neither he nor Sylvain were particularly religious so…

“Actually,” he began, “if we were to get married here it would be in the courtyard.” 

The memory of being wheeled out into the open air after weeks of his unmoved stay in the medical bay. Sitting on the wrought iron bench, leaning against each other, making a promise never again to separate…

Felix’s features rounded, softening in the moment at, what felt like, the distant memory.

The unexpected softness that passed over Felix's face at what was clearly a cherished memory warmed Dorothea's heat. She closed her eyes briefly, picturing what their wedding might be like--despite the rowdiness planned for their joint bachelor party, she suspected that the ceremony itself would be a more intimate affair.

She also secretly hoped that Edelgard, being their commander, would be in attendance at both events and that she might have an opportunity to reconnect and even potentially regain what they'd lost, damn the consequences.

"You're going to make a gorgeous groom," she fawned, reaching out to toy with Felix's hair. "Both of you."

Felix huffed a dry chuckle as she took his braid, meeting Dorothea’s gaze. “I don’t think Sylvain can even manage to look less than gorgeous.”

Again, he picked up the mirror and turned his head this way and that, admiring the shifting tones that highlighted the sharp lines of his features.

“If we do get married here, I’ll need you to work your magic.” He offered Dorothea a small smirk. “You can even have a plus-one to the ceremony.”

"That, I can do."

For as much as Dorothea fundamentally disliked herself, she did have the utmost confidence in her abilities and talents. Already, her mind was buzzing with ideas for the ceremony, preparing for any and all possibilities.

"So, ready to go meet your future husband?" She offered a small smirk in return, taking one last opportunity to admire her work.

“Down, girl,” Felix playfully chided, shaking his head. “He doesn’t get to see your art until tonight. Only I get to revel in your expert work right now.” Felix paused a moment, deciding to push a little further.

“Unless,” he started, “you want me to go find another subject for you to practice on.” Felix’s eyes narrowed incrementally, studying Dorothea’s reactions. “Like a high-ranking official.”

Chapter 80: The Death of Two Bachelors

Summary:

Soon enough, they reached the massive metal doors leading to the mess hall. Sylvain slid his hand down Felix's back to briefly cup his ass, then placed his palm flat on the door.

"You ready for our big debut?"

 

Happy birthday, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.

Love, kelashe

Chapter Text

Sylvain fussed over his hair for the fifteenth time as he continued to obsessively check the time. For all he favored being fashionably late, it felt like poor form to do it at his own bachelor party.

From the corner of the room, Dorothea clicked her tongue and eyed him appraisingly, one brow arched, chin in hand. To complement Felix's makeup, she'd chosen a smoky burgundy blend for Sylvain's lids with the promised smattering of gold glitter across his cheeks, coating his freckles.

She strode toward him and straightened the sleeves of his tight black t-shirt, then wheeled him around by the shoulders and shoved him out of her room.

"Go get your man," she said playfully, and blew him a kiss.

Moments later, he was knocking at Felix's door, feeling more nervous than he ever had in his life.

*

Standing in the mirror, painted again by Dorothea's deft hands, a melding of teal and crimson, accents of chromatic silver; hair made to look sleek and silky in a fine woven braid. Rather than anything formal like the suit that remained at the back of his closet, Felix opted for something a little less formal, a little less stuffy, a little more them. Not giving up his combat boots, black jeans and a dark blue turtleneck clung to his slim figure as he threw on his leather jacket , slinging it over his shoulders, one arm at a time.

Felix fussed with his bangs. There was one strand that refused to cooperate, separating just so from the natural swoop of his dark fringe. Giving up on the hairbrained attempt, Felix sighed in annoyance, cracking his knuckles. Why was he so nervous? This was just like it had been before. It was just a gathering and Sylvain was Sylvain. That wasn't anything that would change.

When the knock came, Felix felt a chill roll down his back. This would be fine...he would be fine...they would be fine. What's more, seeing Sylvain would calm him and likely they could then have a laugh about how ridiculous he had been being nervous for no reason. Taking in a deep breath, Felix hissed out the air as he opened his door...only for it to escape him again upon seeing his Sylvain. Alluringly handsome, gorgeously gold-flecked, Sylvain was...his.

"...hi."

Good one.

Upon receiving his first glimpse of his fiancé, Sylvain was similarly awestruck. He brushed a lock of hair away from his brow and slid his hand back to cup the nape of his neck, something he hadn't done in a long time.

"Hi, yourself," he said, just a tad breathlessly. Then, resisting the urge to shove Felix back into his room and slam the door and take his time examining every bit of him, Sylvain wrapped his fingers around his partner's own and tugged him into the hallway.

"Dorothea was okay with you, right?" Sylvain looked down, concerned, and slung an arm around the shorter man's shoulder. "I know she can be...intense."

Immediately, with the very real weight of Sylvain's large hand, Felix felt centered even as he was tugged out into the hallway. Gazing up at his fiancé, there was no missing the concern written on his face. Grabbing the hand that now slung heavily over his shoulder, Felix pressed a firm kiss into the soft spot of skin at Sylvain's wrist before looking up, meeting his look with a contentment he had only known with Sylvain.

"Have you met my fiancé?" Felix smirked, patting the hand down at his chest. “He’s intense. Anyone else is a breeze in comparison." Felix nodded as they began walking down the hall. "She was more than okay with me."

"She said you were a joy to work with," Sylvain beamed, remembering a time not too long ago when he'd used her to nearly tear them apart. And yet here they were all the same, walking to their bachelor party after she prettied them up as if nothing were amiss. "You look..." His breath caught in his throat and he found himself unable to finish his sentence. "Did you choose the colors and designs yourself?"

How Sylvain managed to continually impress Felix with his charm and with the brilliance of his dazzling smile was something to marvel at. So easily the man made Felix feel as though he was something special, someone to be cherished. The feedback he had apparently been given was complimentary, but it was Sylvain's hushed incomplete statement and question that made Felix blush.

"So you like it? I went to Dorothea and she made it all possible." Felix looked up warmly at Sylvain's gold-flecked freckles, "She did well, didn't she? You look breathtaking, Sylvain."

Sylvain chuckled and wiped a flake of glitter from the corner of his eye, then playfully dotted it on the tip of Felix's nose.

"She did an awesome job on both of us. I even got her agree to gussy us up for the wedding--maybe not glitter, though.”

He raised a hand to gently caress Felix's cheek, admiring the way the contrast of his hair and eyes set off unmistakably vibrant tones of Adder's hull. After a moment he added, "Do you think Edelgard will be there?"

"We can only hope."

Soon enough, they reached the massive metal doors leading to the mess hall. Sylvain slid his hand down Felix's back to briefly cup his ass, then placed his palm flat on the door.

"You ready for our big debut?"

The squeeze at his rear made him jump with a clear look of shock. His surprised look was replaced after a moment with a sly, confident smirk. With a quick motion, Felix pressed Sylvain against the door, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes and an arched brow, hand at his side, thumb kneading into the jut of his muscled hip.

"Let's get past the bachelor party before we start in on wedding plans." Felix's look eased into something softer as he matched Sylvain's gaze with a fond smile. "I can't wait to marry you."

Grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers, Felix was nearly overwhelmed in the moment—his voice, barely above a whisper. "You with me?"

"Always," Sylvain whispered back, adding a tender peck at Felix's temple for good measure. He knew his partner wasn't fond of large gatherings but after all they're been through, it felt perverse to not have become widowers. He craned his neck forward and down, as was his custom, and smacked a solid kiss on Felix's face directly to the left of his mouth. "And now everyone will know. C'mon."

He snatched Felix's hand in his own once more, this time holding so tight that his fingers were beginning to grow cold. He knew part of what awaited them--well-wishers and other cadets who had become friends after Fulcrum. But the unknown--his brother? That terrified him.

Just before pushing open the doors, he leaned in close to Felix to whisper softly, "No matter what happens, I'll keep you safe."

Felix didn’t have time to voice the question that rose to his throat before the doors were pressed open. Immediately, the two were met with thunderous applause and cheers from base staff and personnel alike mingled. Felix’s hand flexed and tightened in Sylvain’s grip as his eyes grew wide.

The mess hall had been transformed. Only a portion of the normally starch lights that illuminated the mess hall were on, dimming the area. Some tables were broken up and moved to break up the long rows of seating they normally found themselves in. A makeshift stage had been constructed with a karaoke machine that was playing instrumental versions of popular songs from years past. At the back wall, there looked to be a line of buffet containers. Contents unknown, but with the steam that rose above the guests heads and the actual good smell? Felix made a point to find out. Beyond that, around the room, coolers of beer were spread around, encircled by people milling about.

And the people…mechanics, grunts, and higher ups alike all mingled in their finest. Individuals never seen without their uniform or covered in grease, were dressed to the nines. At a distance, were it not for the mop of green hair, Felix could barely make out Ignatz in a sharp, well-tailored mocha suit, notably with no shirt underneath displaying his intricate chest piece.

Felix was dumbstruck. In a haze, he nodded and shook hands with the people that approached them on a social autopilot. Sharing in their well wishes, not only for their handling of Fulcrum and his subsequent hospital stay, but their newly announced nuptials.

Sylvain's eyes shot wide as they entered the hall, packed wall-to-wall with their colleagues decked out in their best. He hadn't expected their guerilla advertising for their party to go as far as it had, though perhaps he should have--they'd certainly been through enough high-profile incidents to draw plenty of attention, and he wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if the majority of them were curiosity-seekers, waiting to see the next shitshow go down.

He waved across the room to Ignatz and greeted their guests with his most brilliant smile, his vise-grip on Felix's hand the only indication of his nerves. As they made their way through the crowd, Sylvain felt himself gradually begin to relax. It had been a long damn time since he was last in a party atmosphere, and he'd forgotten how to utilize his tried-and-true fuckboy persona. Floundering, he looked down at Felix with furrowed brows.

"Where to now?" he asked quietly, feeling unusually on edge.

More than ever before, the white-knuckled grip they shared was a source of grounding for Felix—likely as it was for Sylvain. They were immediately inundated with people and calls and raucous congratulations; Felix had never experienced anything quite like it.

Meeting Sylvain’s gaze, Felix shrugged, already beginning to feel at the edge of overwhelmed.

“Something to drink?”

Sylvain nodded and exhaled sharply, noticeably relieved. When they reached the makeshift bar, he was slightly dismayed to see actual Jack Daniels instead of Felix's beloved Jackie D, but he grinned and motioned for two shots all the same.

He lifted his between them in a toast gaze soft and intimate despite the crush of people around them.

"To us. The future Fraldariuses."

“To the future Fraldariuses. You and me.”

Mirroring Sylvain’s moves, Felix lifted the dark liquor and clinked the shot glass against the other. This was done with no tact nor finesse, but from that, an ease came over him as he gazed up at Sylvain from the tilt of his head. The deep smokiness of the liquor trickled down his throat, warming his system. But even so, that warmth traveling down had nothing on the warmth that Sylvain, and Sylvain alone, made Felix feel.

Felix smiled, eyes rounding in fondness, “There are a lot more people than I ever thought would come.”

"Right?" Sylvain chuckled, setting his shot glass down on the bar and reaching out to caress Felix's cheek, once again admiring Dorothea's handiwork. "I guess we're kind of infamous now...that, or our flyers worked."

He stretched his arms behind his head and glanced around the hall, taking in the turnout. For a moment, Sylvain was struck by a feeling of unreality; the realization that he was not only alive but a successful jaeger pilot and about to be married nearly bowled him over. To steady himself, he looped both arms around Felix's waist from behind and pulled him close to his chest.

"We almost lost each other," he whispered, voice tight with emotion. Then he pressed his lips fiercely to the top of Felix's head and held perfectly still for a moment, allowing the party to go on around them.

Looking out at the crowd, Felix was overcome with a small revelation. Everyone looked happy. There were no sour faces, no bored, drained faces that formed when attendance was mandatory. Just smiles, laughter, dancing, merriment—not a tactical vest or other military-issued attire in sight.

Felix‘s hands immediately covered the large arms that wrapped around him. Pressing against them in return, Felix leaned heavily against Sylvain‘s chest, nodding slightly.

“We did,” he admitted softly, “but through those odds, we’re here still.” 

Felix swallowed hard as the din of the crowd faded around him. The thrum of Sylvain’s heart became the underlying cadence, his breathing became the only sound.

“No one and nothing could keep me away from you.”

"That's right," Sylvain murmured, giving Felix a tight squeeze before releasing him and returning to his side. Though he hadn't let his guard down since he'd first caught sight of his brother's sneer on the base, he was feeling more at ease, relaxing into the ancient comfort of safety in numbers.

He spotted Lorenz's telltale lavender head bobbing among the crowd gathering near the stage and nudged Felix with a dry chuckle.

"Do you think he tries to get his head to look like a dick, or did he just come out of the womb like that?"

Felix wound his arm behind Sylvain, holding him close as they parted. Through that sinfully tight shirt, Felix felt Sylvain's muscles relax from what had been their stiff, contracted position. Knowing Sylvain was well on his way to a clear conscience did wonders for Felix—the playful bump to his hip and question were both further balms.

"I'm not sure," Felix chuckled into his fist, "But I can't see him just waking up and not spending a good chunk of time on his looks." Felix followed Sylvain's gaze and sure as shit, there he was. To his credit, the man cleaned up well. Long, tall, and elegant he swept through the crowd with grace in a violet and cream suit. Felix held up his thumb, closing one eye. He was in the clear from the thumb-shaped atomic bomb that was Lorenz.

"I think it might be both," Felix could barely get it out before cracking himself up, dropping his arm as he cackled.

Sylvain bent his knees and crouched to position himself behind Felix, snickering to himself as the violet-haired man moved perfectly in line with his fiancé's thumb. He racked his brains again for any memory of his tryst with the pompous pilot and came up empty.

"He does know how to dress himself," he admitted begrudgingly. "I guess we all have our crosses to bear, and having an unfortunately-shaped head happens to be Lorenz's."

Well, that, and his personality. Sylvain rolled his eyes and glanced around the room, smiling warmly at the partygoers and noting that for once, not a single face held even a trace of animosity toward him.

Chapter 81: Scared to Death

Summary:

“Thank you for your congratulations and your attendance. But,” he turned to Dorothea with expressive, wide eyes, “are you going to sing now?”

Chapter Text

Edelgard paused to crack her knuckles as she forced a calming breath. The music behind the doors boomed, the bass picking up in a faster beat. She had been back for a number of weeks, her new post as captain now feeling closer to routine. All her subordinates worked diligently and all her direct commands, even more so. Yet, no matter how she threw herself into her work, all the fluidity and order in the world could not keep her distracted all the time.

Edelgard hadn’t gone out of her way to avoid Dorothea, but perhaps she should have. She saw Dorothea everywhere. Whether at the jaeger bay, lecture hall, late night in the hallway with an otherwise lovely platinum blonde… Seeing her again, Dorothea had been so willing, so earnest in her welcome…and Edelgard had spurned her. It was selfish and she had regretted it almost immediately afterwards…but seeing her thrive in all aspects, as always, Edelgard knew her place and her role.

Which was obviously why she found herself in her emerald green pantsuit that matched her ex-lover’s gorgeous eyes…

Edelgard gritted her teeth, cocking her head to the sides as she pushed open the doors. In bloody-bottomed stilettos, she strode in, immediately commanding attention. She wore a well-fitted emerald green suit over a black satin bandeau. Her makeup was minimal, long white hair was braided and cascading down her back. Meeting the shocked looks of those under her command and waving off the salutes she received, Edelgard immediately felt out of place.

It was an easy decision then that she would nurse a beverage while she mingled for an appropriate time before giving her congratulations to the happy couple. She would then excuse herself, leaving them and the rest of their guests to their event. This was her appearance and that would be enough.

Though she had been not-so-secretly hoping to encounter her former lover at the party, Dorothea was wholly unprepared for the breathtaking sight that awaited her from across the crowded room: pale skin and paler hair set off by a stunningly tailored suit in a very familiar shade of green. She raised a slender, well-manicured hand to the base of her throat in an attempt to calm her thrumming pulse.

She hesitantly made her way through the crush of bodies, hands anxiously smoothing at the snug satin pencil skirt of her maroon dress, generously cut in a sweetheart neckline to show off what she cynically considered to be her best assets.

Her courage failed her when she was three feet from Edelgard and she drew her red-stained lip into her mouth to worry it between her teeth, holding her glass up to half-cover her face as she looked shyly at the other woman.

Taking a champagne flute with a grateful nod, Edelgard turned to the crowd. Holding the flute in front of her chest, her eyes scanned the room. She was stuck in her place when she laid eyes on the vision that was Dorothea. The woman was always a stunner, but tonight across the room, words didn't do her a lick of justice.

A small curl at her lips, Edelgard raised her flute, tipping it towards Dorothea. Taking a large gulp, she moved fluidly through the mingling crowd half way in Dorothea's direction. Edelgard wouldn't force the interaction, but she would do her part to show she was open to...something, hopefully.

As if drawn by an invisible thread suspended through the aether, Dorothea advanced toward Edelgard step-for-step, falling seamlessly into pace as if they'd never parted.  She reached out with trembling fingers only to drop her hand halfway to the shorter woman's face, unsure what to do with her body for the first time she could remember.

"Edie," she whispered, voice cracking slightly on the second syllable. Then she took a sizable gulp of her drink as though it were a lifeline, face going pale. "You came."

Edelgard held her breath as she watched Dorothea's delicate hand rise and fall; her eyes went up to Dorothea's wide gaze. There was a pause when Dorothea next spoke, Edelgard stood still, confused.

"I did." Edelgard chuckled softly, "I had seen the, well, creative flyers, but I was invited." Edelgard shot a glance scanning the room, eyes falling on the couple of the hour. Her eyes fell back to Dorothea with a soft gaze, "This seemed like too much of a good thing to miss. Such a happy occasion should be celebrated."  After pausing a beat to truly take her in, she added softly, “You look wonderful.”

"So do you."

Mustering up what little remained of her nerve, Dorothea closed the gap between them and placed her hand gently on Edelgard's shoulder, thumb stroking slowly over the crisp seam of her jacket. Her gaze remained deeper and more sincere than was strictly necessary or appropriate, given the setting, but she couldn't help herself. The moment she'd laid eyes on Edelgard, she'd fallen under her spell.

"Are you having a good time?" she purred, attempting to sound like her usual self. But her brows remained the slightest bit tense, the line of her lips just a bit firmer than normal.

And there was that look. The gaze that she recalled so vividly for months and months while she pushed herself, wallowing in self-doubt, those emerald eyes looked as beautiful as she recalled. Yet here, in this moment, Edelgard faltered under Dorothea’s gem-toned gaze.

“I would have a better time if everyone didn’t treat me as the commanding officer right now.” Edelgard looked down and grasped the touch to her shoulder delicately. “You’re the only one that has spoken to me as if I weren't going to give out compliance violation notices.” 

With a small huff of laughter, Edelgard’s lavender gaze rose to meet Dorothea, raising her brow at her features.

“And you? You seem…tense.”

Ironically, Dorothea relaxed at the blunt observation about her physical state. Her grip tightened as she continued to gaze down into Edelgard's eyes, fingers beginning to make slow passes.

"I...it's been a while." She paused for a long moment, reflecting upon her conversation with Felix the night after they'd gotten engaged and she'd nearly helped Sylvain tank something beautiful before it had even begun. At the time, she'd resigned herself to the bitter fate of a loveless future.

But now, seeing the one and only object of her heart's desires standing before her again, Dorothea's will crumbled. She threw her arms around Edelgard, damn the consequences, and pressed her cheek to the side of the white-haired woman's neck.

To say Edelgard was taken aback by Dorothea’s sudden hug would have been accurate. To say that she relished the feeling of Dorothea against her was an under exaggeration. The tight squeeze, her soft cheek pressed against her own, the sweet, floral scent…

“You still use Daisy.”

It wasn’t a question; there was no mistaking the perfume they had bought together.

Edelgard bookended the abrupt statement with an even more abrupt movement of her own. Keeping the flute steady as she could, she wrapped under and up at Dorothea’s arms, her hands touching tentatively at her back. Arms in an embrace, Edelgard slowly eased into Dorothea’s touch. Edelgard released a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding as they held each other.

Dorothea had been expecting so many different possible reactions to the contact that she froze. Her own perfume, to which she was more or less noseblind at this point, seemed to steam up from the rapid rise and fall of her chest, sending the delicate floral notes directly into her sinuses...and her memories.

"You always liked this one, didn't you?" Dorothea asked softly with a sad, wistful sigh. "I liked how it smelled on you, too."

"I still do," Edelgard whispered as she pulled back from her embrace. Any longer and it might've seemed of a questionable nature. Perhaps no one was studying them, but Edelgard was nothing if not careful—especially now with her elevated position, cries of nepotism were everywhere and Edelgard would rather resign than have that shadow on Dorothea. "Were we hugging for longer, some might've worn off on me." 

After a pause, she took a generous sip of the sparkling wine, "Are you close with men? I know you were reassigned twice, the latter with pilot Gauti–... future Fraldarius?"

Edelgard's eyes went wide as she became entranced with the bubbles in her glass. It was standard operating procedure for a transfer captain to be familiar with pilots under their purview, but a deep dive of their personnel file? How she had just blown that specific detail was beyond her...but as more things changed, the more they stayed the same. The woman had such an effect on people that logic ceased and all that remained was Dorothea.

"Yeah, actually. It's been...kind of a crazy ride, to say the least." Dorothea held her tongue, unsure how much to say about the, well, everything that had occurred since Edelgard's return to base. "Believe it or not, Edie, I think they're good for each other."

“I believe it.” She chuckled softly, eyes wandering to where the pair stood wrapped in each other’s arms. “You’d have to be made for each other to go through such lengths here of all places.”

Dorothea took another tiny, hesitant step closer until their shoulders were brushing, longing to feel some of the warmth of the woman she'd missed so desperately. Then, she looped a slender strand of pale hair around one finger and lifted her gaze to Edelgard's.

"You look well."

Although Edelgard kept her upright stature, she basked in the close proximity of the once well-known curve of Dorothea’s hip next to her. She took another silent sip as she looked sideways at the delicate finger that wrapped her hair.

“I am well. I could say the same for you.”

Made for each other.

Dorothea's lips twisted in a bittersweet smile and she turned to face Edelgard in full. She kept close for now; the room was so crowded that even the most disapproving officials would buy that there simply was no room for Dorothea to resist pressing snugly up against her former lover.

"I am glad you're here," she said, her voice low and soft and just for them. "I was... frightened we'd never see each other again."

“I told you if I got transferred I’d find a way back, did I not?” 

It had been a promise that Edelgard had staked on her entire career and more…and that had seemed one-sided for not an insignificant time. But as for the rest, Edelgard had to laugh, chuckling politely as she nodded her thanks for a refilling pour.

“I’ve certainly never held that worry. I feel like I’ve seen you everywhere here.”

"Can we go somewhere more private to talk?"

Dorothea traced the rim of her glass with a shining fingernail, green eyes glowing as she carefully watched the other woman. They'd parted on bitter terms and she was surprised Edelgard was even willing to be in her presence, let alone speak to her.

"I've had a lot on my mind," she added quietly.

Edelgard cocked her head as a fine brow raised towards Dorothea. She looked to the side as if searching for an answer in the ether before her gaze eventually ran up Dorothea's figure and her earnest pleading was heard.

"If you've had a lot on your mind, yes." Edelgard shook her head, sighing. "We haven't had a chance…” I didn’t give us a chance. “...to catch up. I would be amenable to that.

If you’ve had a lot on your mind.

As if Dorothea's mind hadn't been occupied with her former co-pilot every waking moment since they'd parted nearly three years ago. She pursed berry-stained lips and held the shorter woman in an unwavering green gaze while she tried to plan an appropriate escape for them.

"Let's go out to the observation deck," she said calmly, ignoring the electric current that ran through her palm and up her wrist when she wrapped her fingers around Edelgard's forearm. "I think it's mostly empty out there."

Dorothea’s touch at her forearm threatened to send a shiver down Edelgard’s system. But even had the insistent touch not been persuasive, the gaze that Edelgard once again found herself captivated in had already sealed, if not her fate, but immediate actions.

“The observation deck it is.”

Edelgard held her arm at a bend, leading the two through the crowd, thinning as they approached the back. Her heart beat at a hummingbird’s pace as the warmth of Dorothea’s hand imbued her sleeve’s fabric. Edelgard ground her teeth, steadying herself as they moved further from the populated gathering.

The salt air was cool on the damp nape of Dorothea's neck as they stepped out into the dusky purple evening, and she shivered lightly. Three years had led up to this moment--three years of lying in bed alone or under someone else and lamenting what she'd given up. Three years of planning that should have given her even an inkling of how to begin the conversation, and yet she was coming up blank.

"Edie."

She set her glass down on the railing and placed both hands on the commander's shoulders, thumbs pressing lightly into her clavicles. Her mind buzzed madly with memories from Drifts past--hers with Sylvain, with Dimitri, with Edelgard. Sylvain's half-assed laughter bubbled up from the depths of her mind and she shoved it aside petulantly, suddenly furious that he could have everything he wanted, and yet--

Dorothea closed the gap between them and cupped Edelgard's jaw tenderly, flashing frightened eyes at her for the briefest of moments before pulling her into a kiss.

Whatever hang ups, excuses, or reasonings Edelgard had come up with as she had prepared for her transfer all vanished in the moment that Dorothea’s plush lips dipped to meet hers. Her arms swayed limply at her side for a moment as her mind went blissfully blank. The touch to her collarbone, the comforting manner her cheek was cupped, and the tender press of lips, they were nothing new—a nostalgic return to form; in Dorothea’s arms, she was home.

Three years apart was nothing to Edelgard’s well-practiced motions. Her hands rose tentatively in simple muscle memory to the swell of Dorothea’s hips, one sliding to her cinched waist and higher up her side, the other to her lower back as Edelgard pressed back against her lips.

Emboldened by the easy response, Dorothea crushed Edelgard's smaller frame to her, letting her heart beat wildly against the other woman's chest. She tipped her head slightly to one side to get a better angle, the familiar, subtle leather notes of Edelgard's perfume mixing with the natural scent of her hair and the cool ocean breeze

"Edie," she whispered, lips gently caressing her former lover's as she murmured all the things she'd thought about and had waited so long to say. The solid warmth of the other's waist beneath her trembling hand brought sharp, sudden tears to her eyes and she sighed long and slow, the beautiful reality of the situation slowly settling in around her.

“‘Thea.”

The utter relief and satisfaction in Edelgard’s affected voice sounded foreign to her own ears. As slim as she was, to feel Dorothea’s ample figure crash against hers was less of a welcomed sensation and more of one that she achingly missed.

Pulling back, Edelgard threaded her hand through Dorothea’s tumble of chestnut locks, breathing hard, not from their kiss, but from the choking emotions that threatened to spill over any second. Her second hand came up easily, gently wiping at the tears that now streamed down her face. Pale lavender eyes looked on from under a tense, worried brow as Edelgard spoke in a low, firm tone.

“It’s alright. I have you now.”

"Do you?" Dorothea asked in a small, trembling voice. She clutched Edelgard even tighter until she swore she could feel bones creaking beneath her grasp but even then, she couldn't bring herself to let go. "Do you, really?"

She stayed like that for a long while, cheek pressed to the side of Edelgard's head, eyes closed, listening to their breath and the occasional, improbable seagull crying on the night wind. When she finally drew back, her eyes were dry, her gaze soft and resolute.

"So, where do we go from here?" She didn't dare to allow herself to hope.

"Don't start doubting me now." 

Edelgard nodded as her eyes took on a glossiness that had been a foreign sensation to her. Crying and showing weakness wasn't something she could go to in her station nor in her personal life. That had been her mantra, her guiding principle over the years...all up until she met her assigned Drift partner.

"From here," she began, "it would be a disservice to our time apart to say we pick up where we left...no matter how hard it was." Her amendment, while it could have been laced with malice and bitterness, only a sad resoluteness could be found. "I say we start here." 

At this, Edelgard leaned back, taking hold of Dorothea's hands. 

"Now having experienced as many triumphs as failures, the best days by myself were nothing compared to the worst with you." It was here that her voice wavered and her eyes threatened to dart away. "I don't want to go through those without you anymore...and you?"

"I don't want us to ever be apart again."

This time, Dorothea's tone was firm and resolute and she squeezed Edelgard's hands in response, then laced their fingers together until her knuckles turned white. She leaned in and down to brush the tips of their noses together, then straightened up to meet her gaze once more.

"Wherever you want to pick up, I'm here. Wherever you go, Edie...I'll follow this time. I swear it."

Dorothea had a way with words. Edelgard had the opportunity to bask in her sonorous operettas on more than one occasion, but never had she sounded quite like this. It was only after the small nuzzle that the tears that had threatened to fall now fell freely as Edelgard mirrored the vice grip at their intertwined fingers.

In an instant, Edelgard dropped their combined grip and encircled Dorothea’s waist, lifting her in a tight embrace. In the silk fabric of her outfit, Edelgard closed her eyes tightly, willing away the possibility that this was some cruel and improbable dream. With Dorothea. Together. That’s all she had ever wanted.

Dorothea cooed soft, sweet reassurances in Edelgard's ear, secretly amazed at the other woman's strength as she was lifted to her toes and then some. She felt telltale wetness on her bosom and nudged Edelgard's chin up with her cheek, nuzzling the tears away.

"I love you so much," she murmured quietly, closing her eyes to bask in the moment. "I'm sorry I split us up."

Edelgard spun them around, walking the few steps to the metal wall of the observation deck. Lowering Dorothea back to the grates in the floor, Edelgard’s hands cupped her cheeks as she leaned into the woman’s figure.

“Say it again.” Her brows were upturned in a hopeful desperation. Rather than the apology, hearing her confession, the feeling that hadn’t faded over the years…Edelgard had longed to hear it. And hear it again, as it were.

“Please.”

"I love you," Dorothea purred as she swept the other woman into a crushing embrace. "I missed you, and I'm sorry, and I love you. I never stopped loving you, Edie. Never.”

Dorothea's voice cracked on the final word and she averted her eyes, glancing up and slightly to the right in a well-practiced maneuver to ward off tears. Then, remembering who she was with, she dropped her glistening gaze back to Edelgard's face, allowing all of her emotions to be laid bare across her features.

Upon seeing Dorothea’s sweet face fraught with emotion, Edelgard clenched her teeth. She went easily into Dorothea’s embrace, missing that unrestrained squeeze that only she could manage, finally relaxing her muscles drawn tight. Resting her head in the crook of her neck, Edelgard’s breath puffed against her neck as she breathed in the florals that she had so missed.

“How could I ever not love you?” Whether the whispered question was something to be answered or simply an inner monologue given life, Edelgard bookended it with a firm press of her lips to the long column of Dorothea’s neck with just a dart of her tongue.

At the tender, dearly missed kiss, Dorothea tipped her head back with a shuddering sigh. How something so simple and so chaste could also be so longed-for surprised her, but she'd felt mostly dead inside since their parting years ago.

But soft, sentimental thoughts went straight out the window at the mischievous lap of Edelgard's clever little tongue and she responded with the tiniest of moans, pushing her lush bosom into the other woman's and gliding a hand into her long, silky locks.

Shorter than Dorothea even in her heels, Edelgard had never let her diminutive stature dictate anything. Neither the short moan nor the insistent press of Dorothea’s ample bosom went unnoticed by Edelgard.

Again, back to muscle memory, Edelgard leaned back into the delicate fingers at her hairline as she snaked her hands to Dorothea’s sides, thumbs grazing against the swell of her breasts. In an instant, Edelgard pressed her lips with purpose against her heated flesh, suckling hard at the skin. It was but a moment and then another of lavishing at her skin before she pulled away, eyes wide, darting from side to side, her cheeks a scarlet red.

“I…I’m sorry. I think I’m getting carried away here.”

Dorothea immediately went weak in the knees at the subtle display of dominance, now clutching at Edelgard for support as well as out of overwhelming passion. But the moment was over as soon as it had begun and she found herself back where she'd started, wide eyes and flushed cheeks and heaving breasts.

"I think we're getting a little carried away for where we are," she said after a moment, voice heavy with suggestion. "But we've made our appearance, and the dorms are empty..."

Edelgard felt the curl of her fingers and the bite of her nails through the fabric. Each press and dig took Edelgard closer and closer to that desire that had laid dormant since the woman in front of her had last touched her. The heavy, laden tone that Dorothea answered with did absolutely nothing to temper those feelings. Stepping back, flushed cheeks notwithstanding, Edelgard regarded Dorothea with a subtle warning tone.

“I’m a captain, Dorothea.” Edelgard tugged at the hem of her suit jacket, straightening her posture. In that instant, her eyes took on a predatory gleam as she regarded Dorothea, “Captain’s Quarters are isolated.”

Dorothea allowed a full-bodied shiver to run through her, pressing her shoulders, her hips, her thighs against the other woman, instinctively seeking the warmth she knew lay just beneath the stony exterior.

"Lead the way," she responded playfully with a mock salute. "...Captain."

She ran one finger down the center of Edelgard's torso before drawing her hand away, eyes shining in the moonlight.

Edelgard shuddered at the plush body against her own. Lingering a moment further, enjoying the feel against her, she stepped back. A sly smile curled at the corner of Edelgard’s lips as she held out her hand to Dorothea.

“Come on. Let’s give our congratulations to the couple.”

Dorothea pouted, but only for a moment--if she knew her Edelgard well, and despite the years that had passed between them, she did, there was a wonderful surprise awaiting both of them at the end of all the pageantry. She squeezed the slender dip of the shorter woman's waist with a giggle and led them, flouncing,  back into the main reception hall.

It took but a moment to locate the happy couple--Sylvain with his eye makeup smeared at the corners and shirt half-undone, standing with one foot atop a table loudly recalling war stories while Felix looked on in starry-eyed embarrassment. Dorothea took the opportunity to sneak a tiny kiss to the corner of Edelgard's lips and squeezed her waist again.

"You ready?"

“Always, Thea.”

Edelgard’s gaze followed Dorothea’s fluid pass and intertwined their fingers as she followed her made path. Cutting through the crowd, Edelgard gave polite, definitive nods to those that surrounded her looking for acknowledgment until they made it to the happy couple–one who looked as if he were crossing the Delaware and the other like his war-torn bride.

“Excuse me,” Edelgard cleared her throat, masking the stifled chuckle, “pilots Fraldarius and the future Fraldarius?”

"Speaking!" Sylvain flashed the pair of women a goofy grin and a generous expanse of chest as he stumbled down from the table. "Dorothea, Commander...you're both looking as lovely as usual. What can my future husband and I do for you?" Leaning in, he dropped his voice to a confidential whisper and added, "We've never done anything like this before."

With an expression of fond disgust, Dorothea pushed Sylvain's face away with the flat of her palm. "We've just come to pay our respects and wish the two of you well, that's all." After a pause: "You certainly look like you’re having a good time."

Edelgard stood fast in her spot as Sylvain ungracefully stumbled down close to them. When Dorothea pushed him away, her neutral visage cracked, lavender eyes crinkling at the side. Though the only laugh came from the man to her side that grabbed Sylvain by the collar in a natural extension of Dorothea’s move—the oddest baton pass Edelgard had seen.

“You better not have been engaged before.” 

Grabbing at his collar, Felix brought Sylvain into a tight embrace from the back, poking his head from underneath his arm. It was at this moment that Felix realized he might be a bit more inebriated than he thought. Though, that thought alone didn’t stop him. He nodded respectfully at the young commander.

“Thank you for your congratulations and your attendance. But,” he turned to Dorothea with expressive, wide eyes, “are you going to sing now?” His arm snaked up patting Sylvain on part of his exposed chest. “I’ve been telling this one I was waiting to dance with him for your songs.”

Sylvain grinned lovesick grin at Felix and swooped in to plant a messy kiss on his cheek, lips missing their mark and veering off course to smear along his jawline.

"Yeah, Thea!" he blurted out with the excitement of an inebriated child in a grown man's body. You were gonna sing Scared to Death for us!"

He placed his hands on Dorothea's waist and led her toward the stage, casting a grinning backward glance at his fiancé.

Felix smiled wide as Sylvain left his immediate grasp leading Dorothea towards the stage. Glancing to the side, he saw the commander’s wide eyes and her jaw slightly slack.

“She’ll be back in one piece,” Felix promised, eyes never leaving Sylvain as they made their way to the mic stand. Not turning to face the commander directly, Felix commented mildly, folding his arms. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Regaining any semblance of her senses, Edelgard cleared her throat, going into her rote, formal tone. 

“I’m not worried about Ms. Arnault, she is more than capable of handling herself. And of course.” She added with an almost approving nod, “You two have shown such strength through adversity. Attending this celebration is the least I could do.”

At the diplomatic answer, Felix shook his head, eyes narrowing. 

“While that’s a polite gesture, you know that’s not why we invited you specifically, right?”

Dorothea flounced her way onto the stage and bowed grandly to the drunken crowd. She herself was still sober enough to stand upright without the help of the microphone stand, though she planned to remedy that--among other things--the second she was done.

"To our handsome, lovable idiots," she said warmly, gesturing to Sylvain and Felix as she pushed a series of buttons on the antiquated karaoke machine. After a brief pause, the soft music came up and she began to croon.

"In the biblical sense and sensibility just let me know you, I'll kiss that smile off your face, just say when."

Sylvain reached instinctively for Felix and pulled him in, chest-to-chest, arms slung lightly around his shoulders and a smile on his face.

The semi-sharp tone took Edelgard aback as Felix turned from her, extending out his arms to Sylvain as he pulled the shorter pilot in close. The woman had been left stunned. Stunned at the song choice, stunned at Fraldarius’ tone, and now, stunned at the beautiful melancholy melody that drifted throughout the hall.

Dorothea had often sung in their room, but it had only been soft melodies under her breath, never before had Edelgard seen her perform. It was something Edelgard had lamented never seeing her work in her previous life as an actress before she joined the resistance and became a pilot.

Slack-jaw shut tight, Edelgard’s eyes watered as the lyrics to one of her still-most played songs washed over her in Dorothea’s sonorous voice.

Meanwhile, Felix’s arms drifted along Sylvain’s hips to his waist, embracing him lowly, resting his head on his chest as he hummed along, content.

Through the verses, Dorothea's hands rose slowly to her chest to cover her thrumming heart. Though she was technically singing for the happy couple, she was also belting out her apology to her former love, all emotions laid bare.

"All these pick-up lines from hell," she twanged with a note of irony, casting a fraught gaze at Sylvain, who was staring deeply into Felix's eyes as though they were a lifeline for him--and she suspected they were.

She focused her glimmering green gaze on Edelgard--scanning the crowd of onlookers had been just for show, and she'd been counting each second until the could meet those lavender eyes she loved so much and coo the final words:

“I'm scared to death, and you're sweet like poison.”

Edelgard’s gaze scanned from the happy couple as they were lost in a world of their own. But soon, her eyes were locked onto Dorothea’s enchanting emeralds.

As the last syllable was snuffed out, Edelgard released a shaking breath as her scarred knuckles went to scrub at her eyes. She whistled, joining the chorus of applause and cheers that heralded Dorothea’s exit off stage.

Dorothea's heart was nearly pounding out of her chest as she left the stage. While this was far, far from her first performance, it was the one that had meant more to her than any other time she'd stepped out under the spotlights. She patted at her cleavage, gasping for air and darting her eyes which way and that in search for the only person she wanted to see.

That the cheers and applause went on long after her departure would normally have warmed her heart, but in its place was a heavy leaden feeling of dread. Had she said too much, shown too much of her hand? Only time would tell.

Edelgard moved quickly around the enamored crowd next to the service entrance near the stage. Her heart, fuller than she could recall, felt as if it could burst at any moment. From Edelgard’s eclectic tastes in music, this, along with a handful of other songs, had been adopted as an unofficial anthem for the two. And now, to hear it again sung with such passion and expertise by the woman of her heart? It was almost too much to bear as she waited.

When Edelgard saw Dorothea step down and met her gaze, she stepped in the doorway, holding one of the sides open, waiting on her songstress.

The shouts of merriment from the crowd had drowned out nearly half the final verse, leaving Dorothea smiling beatifically from the stage as her former co-pilot began to viciously suck face with his future spouse. Taking her cue as effortlessly as ever, she stepped backstage to the sight she'd secretly been longing for.

"Edelgard," she breathed, one hand coming up to loosen the full bow at the dangerously low neckline of her dress. Her other arm reached out to loop around the pale-haired woman's waist, drawing her firmly to her side. "Felix asked me to sing them their song. Our song."

Their song? So it was indeed still theirs? How fortuitous was it then that they shared it with another pair. In the dim light, Edelgard felt herself flush as she was pulled into Dorothea’s side.

“You sang,” she began breathlessly, “you were wonderful.” Her gaze was resolute and steady as was her voice now, “My quarters.” There wasn’t a question. The two had been apart for too long and Edelgard would not let Dorothea or herself suffer a moment longer than necessary.

"Your quarters," Dorothea responded, matching her matter-of-fact tone. It had been long for them, far too long, and even the short walk to the captain's quarters seemed an unfathomable distance.

Chapter 82: A Little Bit Closer

Summary:

“And now?” Edelgard took their combined hands and pinned them on either side of Dorothea’s head on the mattress. She leaned lower, her posture solid, her voice resolute, yet her lavender eyes gave her stoic façade away.

“What would you do?”

Chapter Text

She swung the door open just the same as she had when they were together, as if all her things were in their proper places. Once the door was open, she swooped a single arm around Edelgard's waist to hoist her into the air, shuffling mid-step to lock the blonde's legs securely around the small of her back.

True to form, Edelgard's quarters were sparse and orderly, and Dorothea already knew she'd enjoy thoroughly making a mess. She practically threw Edelgard onto her mattress before slithering atop her and latching small pearly teeth onto the buttons at the front of her outfit, gaze cast upward.

Dorothea was practically a hurricane, same as ever. As she swept through, literally sweeping Edelgard off her feet; the commander was at ease allowing the woman to do as she pleased. Back pressed against the bed, Edelgard leaned back on her elbows watching with keen interest as Dorothea crawled up the mundane stretch of her body, licking her lips at the sight of teeth that bit at her suit button.

“You looked beautiful tonight as you well know.” Edelgard let out a particularly breathy sigh as she spoke. “But Dorothea,” she shook her head as her tone lowered, “but I had forgotten what a picture perfect minx you are from here.” 

Edelgard widened her legs, kicking and sending her red-bottomed shoes scattering.

"Oh?" Dorothea responded mischievously, laving the flat of her tongue over one glossy black button. "I'd considered you sparing you the teasing since it's been so long, Edie, but if you insist..."

She slid slender hands up and underneath the hem of Edelgard's slim-cut suit, grazing the very tips of her fingernails over each hard ridge of well-hidden muscle. With each touch she silently whispered I missed you, mentally willing the other woman to respond in kind.

Edelgard shuddered at the sight of Dorothea’s very talented tongue and the rake of her trimmed nails against her abdomen. That she missed Dorothea’s ability to make her eyes roll back in her skull was obvious, yet their close contact and her touch was all she wanted.

“Thea,” her voice unusually heavy with emotion and perhaps no less commanding, “come here.” Her hands went to Dorothea’s shoulders before pulling her close with a gasp of relief as she crashed their lips together.

Dorothea's lips parted willingly with a sigh as she melted into Edelgard, tongue slipping into her mouth and stroking gently against the other's. She breathed in deep with a soft whimper, her fingers continuing their ascent until they were lightly cupping Edelgard's breasts.

"El," she breathed, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. "I missed you so much."

A woman in her own proverbial desert, tasting Dorothea after so long was bliss. Edelgard moved hungrily against her as if this would all end if she conceded by succumbing to her need for oxygen.

Soft groans of desire sounded in the room, low and heavy. As Dorothea’s hands reached their destination, Edelgard arched her back pressing her chest encouraging her wandering grasp. Edelgard’s encouraging gasp of pleasure masked the whimper that escaped her in a guttural response to Dorothea’s breathless statement. Taking advantage of their momentary pause, Edelgard, one who had never been comfortable with vulnerability, felt more raw than she had in her life.

“I’ve missed you as well. I…I’ve done so much but…” Edelgard reached up, tucking a lock of her chestnut hair behind her ear, “It’s meant nothing without sharing it with you.”

The soft, sweet sounds Edelgard was making in response to her every ministration were swiftly driving Dorothea's senses to a fever pitch. She clung tightly to the smaller woman, torn between the desire for unrelenting closeness and the drive to take her completely apart.

"Tell me what you want," she purred in a low, velvety voice, fingertips plucking at the fabric of her lover's bra and teasing at her nipples. "We have a lot of lost time to make up for."

Dorothea’s deft hands could be gentle and rough in equal parts when required. And now her touch was gentle and slight, coquettish as only she could be. Edelgard’s mouth opened in a silent moan at the slight touches. As always, Dorothea’s low, seductive voice went straight to Edelgard’s core, a burning desire simmering within her as she suckled at her own lip, stifling a smirk.

Her hands traveled down Dorothea’s plentiful curves, edging her hands to the pencil skirt’s clasp and zipper. Snaking her hands into the fabric and around the rounds of her asscheeks, Edelgard squeezed possessively.

“I want you to sit on my face.”

At the first firm touch, Dorothea's back arched and her hips dipped, body going pliant beneath Edelgard's hands. She nodded slowly, a high flush rising to her cheeks, and squirmed eagerly into her lover's grasp. While the nature of the request itself was a surprise, the way it was delivered with the same confidence and gravitas as everything else the commander said went straight to her core.

She shimmied up the bed, pulling the hem of her skirt up as she went, and positioned herself daintily over Edelgard's face. Unable to resist, she ground down just once, shivering at the pressure of Edelgard's mouth against the already-sodden fabric of her panties.

With her initial dip and grind of her hips, Edelgard made a muffled noise of surprise approval as she opened her mouth, laving her tongue against the wet fabric made wetter; the same could be said of Edelgard. Her mind was blank but for one objective: erasing Dorothea’s desire for another partner ever again.

Happy to be under Dorothea again, Edelgard was in no rush and was planning to savor every moment she was given. Squirming against the mattress, Edelgard wrapped her hand under and around Dorothea’s left thigh, holding her solidly into place; Edelgard’s left hand splayed wide against the flat of her stomach and began a slow descent. She mouthed at the sodden fabric, hot breath melding with the red that flooded her cheeks. Tasting Dorothea’s anticipation, Edelgard moaned, clenching her own thighs tightly together as her fingers reached within the layers of fabric. Edelgard licked languid stripes up her underwear as she raked her fingers gently among Dorothea’s trimmed curls.

A shocked, shrill gasp escaped Dorothea at the initial lap of Edelgard's tongue and she bit down into her lip, a jolt of pleasure running up her spine. For all she got around, it was rare that anyone was this attentive to her body, and no one had ever been more attentive than Edelgard herself. Her mind flashed briefly back to the disastrous night of Sylvain and Felix's engagement party and she brushed the memory away, more than a little annoyed.

“Fuck,” she sighed happily, angling her hips down to facilitate a better angle. Her fingers wound their way into pale silky locks and she hummed under her breath, tipping her head back. "Missed having you like this."

Edelgard moaned out in acknowledgement and agreement as her fingers dug into the plush meat of Dorothea’s thigh. Something unnecessarily prideful leapt at Dorothea’s aside; yet, no matter how many other partners she had in this very position, no one ever held a candle to this woman. A prurient thought rose somewhere in the back of her mind; Edelgard was willing to do whatever she had to do just to get Dorothea to sing for her as she always had…

Edelgard’s hand tilted with Dorothea’s hips as she was gifted with a generous angle. Not to waste any opportunity, Edelgard snaked her fingers around her panties and pulled them slowly to the side, her tongue following, finally Dorothea’s wetness against her tongue.

Fabric around her knuckles, pressed against her pelvis, Edelgard licked up into Dorothea’s folds. The heat and the taste on her face were all uniquely Dorothea as Edelgard relished the sensations as her tongue flicked and curled against her.

The cadence of Dorothea's hips picked up to match Edelgard's pace, one hand sliding up her own torso to grasp at her breast. Her thighs tightened on either side of her partner's head and she made a long, sonorous ah at the first full lap at her dripping folds.

"Just like that," she murmured, using the scantest pressure to guide Edelgard's movements. Though it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus her vision, Dorothea forced herself to keep hazy green eyes locked on the other woman. Her body trembled with the first tiny waves of pleasure and she whined low again, utterly lost.

Dorothea’s coaxing, moans, and her roving hand along with the squeeze around Edelgard’s head were all hallmarks of her pleasure; that knowledge alone sent pulses of pleasure to Edelgard’s core making her writhe under Dorothea.

As a habit, Edelgard was used to taking her time, teasing and going with her own timeline as she made her partners come undone. But here and now, Edelgard was running away with the passions this woman never ceased to bring out.

Tightening her grip on Dorothea’s thigh, Edelgard essentially used it as leverage to pull herself up, deeper into her cunt. Keeping with her gyrations, Edelgard followed where she led. Tilting her head, Edelgard buried her nose in Dorothea’s hair as she licked with vigor. She splayed her fingers and pressed against her mound, watching as she flicked her tongue experimentally at Dorothea’s clit.

Dorothea sagged forward at the precision with which her talented lover worked, now bracing her hands before her on the mattress for support. Her teeth sank ever-deeper into her bottom lip, now nearly drawing blood. It took only the briefest of moments for her to realize that attempting to stifle her cries was useless and allowed herself to moan out wantonly without a care for who might be in earshot.

She thought she could die happy like this, with Edelgard's face planted firmly between her legs, and fought to hold back her release in favor of losing herself to pure sensation. But it took only a few deft flicks against her clit before she was coming hard, a myriad of melodic sounds increasing in volume and pitch as she drenched the other woman's face.

A grunt of surprise was the only reaction Edelgard had time for. She didn’t relent, tonguing against the sweet spot she had rediscovered as Dorothea serenaded them with a herald of her sonorous orgasm. A surprised choked chuckle tumbled from Edelgard’s throat as she tapped Dorothea’s clenched thigh at her ear as she rolled to the side gasping. Face glistening, Edelgard’s chest heaved as she wiped languidly at her lips.

“I’ll never get tired of how you sound.” 

The sentiment was real, and so was the earlier worry that their coupling would somehow have been different, that too much had happened, too much had changed, that they would no longer work.

Where they stood after baring long-standing emotions was one thing…but on a physical level? Edelgard licked her lips and hummed as if Dorothea’s come was ambrosia, that was never an issue.

Any admission from Edelgard, always so stoic, was immediately stored among Dorothea's most treasured memories, and this time was no exception. She smiled softly, desire momentarily eclipsed by affection, as she rolled off the smaller woman and drew her fully into her arms.

"I want to hear you," she murmured in the other's ear before capturing her lips and licking deep into her mouth, moaning at the taste of herself on Edelgard's tongue. Her hand slipped down between Edelgard's legs to cup her still-clothed mound with subtle pressure.

“Is that so?”

The question had barely left her lips before Dorothea sealed them with her own. Edelgard closed her eyes as she was moved to roll on top of Dorothea. Licking down and moaning into her mouth, Edelgard planted her hands at the side of Dorothea’s head.

The hand that slipped down between them found its target. Without hesitation, Edelgard ground into her roving hand.

With a series of quick, subtle movements, Dorothea worked her hand into Edelgard's snug-fitting pants, though once inside she slowed the steady descent of her fingers. She mouthed silent adorations against Edelgard's lips and gently stroked her fingertips through the well-groomed hair, index finger easily finding her clit.

A slight bend of her wrist, and she'd slipped two fingers down to circle the other woman's entrance, probing curiously at her folds as though it were their first time.

Edelgard gasped into Dorothea’s mouth as her fingers dug into her pants. Tangling her hand in Dorothea’s hair, she ground down on her deft fingers, tilting her hips and chasing her pleasure.

“Thea,” Edelgard moaned as she turned her head, her lips trailing as she peppered slow kisses to her face. Edelgard’s free hand went underneath Dorothea’s blouse to cup at her breast. Her muscles clenched as she felt that desire pool at her core more profoundly.

Dorothea continued the slow, gentle massaging of her fingers as she languidly explored Edelgard's body, effortlessly following the trail of kisses with her own lips.

"Edie," she breathed in response, curling her fingers and stroking along the tight walls. "You feel good."

Edelgard ran her teeth against Dorothea’s neck. Her breath ghosted against her flushed skin as Dorothea’s nimble fingers sent pulses of pleasure throughout her system. Edelgard moaned at Dorothea’s acknowledging coos.

“Just there,” she moaned, rocking with Dorothea’s slow motions. “I’ve missed this.”

Dorothea sighed softly, heated breath puffing pale strands of hair away from Edelgard's flushed skin. She closed her eyes and dipped her head to capture the other woman's earlobe between her teeth, flicking lightly over the flesh with the tip of her tongue.

Though she was more than a little curious what Edelgard had been up to--and with whom--Dorothea refrained from asking, focusing instead on drawing every sweet sound she could out of her partner and committing each one to memory. She hoped they wouldn't be parted again, but knew better than to put her trust in anything.

Edelgard’s eyes went wide at the sharp nip to her ear as she let a hiss of air out. For as long as they had been apart, the woman still knew exactly which buttons to push that were sure to send her over the edge.

Gasping as if she hadn’t enough air, Edelgard’s breath became shallow and quick; her hip movements increasingly more erratic as she rode Dorothea’s curling fingers. Finally with a choked intake of air, she came harshly, her walls tightening as waves of pleasure came over her.

Dorothea bent her wrist forward in a graceful arc to press the heel of her hand against Edelgard's clit as she came, murmuring small hushed reassurances and every expression of affection and adoration she'd been holding in her mind since they were last together.

"Love you," she whispered, pressing a series of fluttery kisses to the line of Edelgard's jaw, her free arm wrapping around her partner to pull her close.

Going boneless, Edelgard turned in Dorothea’s grasp as she was pulled close. Barely over the constant pants from her heaving chest, Edelgard heard Dorothea’s affirmations and her own admission.

“Truly?” Curling against the taller woman, Edelgard bracketed Dorothea’s hips as she came down, nosing at her warm curls dragging her lips lazily against Dorothea’s pristine nape.

"Truly," Dorothea repeated warmly, nuzzling into her. She withdrew her hand and lifted it to her mouth to lap her fingers clean before grazing her lips lazily over Edelgard's. Then she fell still and silent once more, listening to the sounds of their breathing.

After spending a moment rearranging words in her head, Dorothea took a deep breath and spoke again.

"I didn't expect to see you again after that day."

Tasting herself on Dorothea’s lips, Edelgard reared back on her thighs poised over Dorothea. Although her reflexive question was answered, she remained silent as she watched. The woman was talkative and energetic, her mind never at rest. And in the silence, Edelgard saw there was something on her mind and gave her the space to speak on it. Though when Dorothea finally did, her words pierced through Edelgard.

“…And you were okay with that?”

Edelgard’s hands had come to rest between her thighs in the scant space of Dorothea’s abdomen. She withdrew and held them closer into herself as she looked down at Dorothea.

The question tore at Dorothea's very soul and she stifled a whimper, hands grasping instinctively for Edelgard's in an attempt to bring her back from wherever she was disappearing to.

"No," she whispered, lacing their fingers tightly together. "No, it almost killed me. But I couldn't hold you back, Edie. Even if what I wanted most was to keep you here with me."

Edelgard’s breath left her all at once at Dorothea’s response. Both the dire tone of her voice and the possessiveness of the pull of her hands seemed fraught with sincerity. Edelgard had a knack for reading people, but with Dorothea, she had met her match. So much she would never know went on behind those big green eyes. But right now, she was moved by the genuine display from the actress. And for once, Edelgard had no question as to whether she was acting or not.

“And now?” Edelgard took their combined hands and pinned them on either side of Dorothea’s head on the mattress. She leaned lower, her posture solid, her voice resolute, yet her lavender eyes gave her stoic façade away.

“What would you do?”

"Now?"

Dorothea paused again, looking up at Edelgard with wide green eyes and willingly allowing herself to be pinned. There was something invigorating about the way her lover could switch so easily between vulnerable and self-assured, even dominating. She flexed her fingers around Edelgard's and allowed a wry smile to form on her lips as she leaned up to whisper in her ear.

"I'd hold you close and never let you go, in whatever context necessary. Even physically, if I had to."

Or even if she didn't have to, just because, but she allowed that to hang in the air between them, unspoken.

The words were like music to Edelgard’s ears. The coquettish conviction that Dorothea managed to employ was a brand of her own and it practically sang in all its glory.

“You’ll never have to.” Edelgard’s voice wavered as she finished the thought, shaking her head. “Dorothea,” she began, her voice choked with emotion, “I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

Tears Dorothea hadn't noticed rising to her eyes began to fall freely down her cheeks and her next inhale came harsh and fast and shallow. She tightened her grip on Edelgard's hands until she could feel the tendons roll just beneath her skin and let out a shuddering sigh.

"It was torture being away from you. I wondered about you every day, missed you every single day. But I knew...I knew it was for the best, you going away. Look at you now..."

Torture…had she shut herself away? Had she cried nightly, unable to show her face for fear of questions? Had she found solace in others? Under others? Better yet, how many others?

Edelgard blinked hard on an attempt to clear her mind; that line of thought was folly. A hard grip to the back of her hands shook her from her thoughts.

“Look at me now,” Edelgard echoed as she returned the twin squeezes. She lowered her head and traced the trail of tears from Dorothea’s cheek with her tongue. Maneuvering slowly, Edelgard slotted herself between Dorothea’s long dancer’s legs, pressing down against the other woman as she closed the distance, snuffing out any worries, spoken or not.

“I see nothing better than this right now.”

Chapter 83: The Best Laid Plans…

Summary:

“And what if we welcomed your interruption?” Felix practically purred the question as Dimitri clenched his jaw.

"Mmhmm," Sylvain agreed, drawing each syllable out long and low. "Maybe we've even talked about this a time or two..."

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, Sylvain had long since removed his shirt, which was arguably snug to the point of questionable taste, and was currently standing atop one of the long cafeteria tables with his back to the gathering crowd. He flexed to better show off his tattoo, proud to bear the combination of his and Felix's family crests and thanking a god he didn't believe in for his natural build, because he still hadn't even come close to matching his fiancé's devotion to working out.

"Fe," he called over his shoulder with a wry smile, "take off your shirt and get up here. Show off a little."

Unbutton your pants and show off your ink remained unspoken, but Sylvain hoped to transmit it through his heated gaze as he ran one hand up his own torso, casting a simmering glance back at his partner.

Tight black shirt hanging from his neck, Felix looked up with a bleary-eyed grin at Sylvain. To see him this animated and this happy without any worry, it truly was a moment Felix reveled in.

Reaching up, Felix extended his hand, shaking his head and stifling the laugh that wanted to follow. A man of peak physical performance, men wanted to be him, women wanted him. A charismatic figure with a sensitive heart. A bastard who hid behind bravado and had an untold capacity for care and affection. How had he become so lucky?

“Come down here.” 

Felix met his eyes with a come hither finger curl.

Sylvain slunk toward Felix, swaying his hips every step of the way and biting his lip suggestively. He plopped himself down on the edge of the table and extended a pair of long legs to wrap around his fiancé's slender hips and draw him closer, squinting one eye slightly to see straight.

"I'm down here," he said simply, voice dropping a note lower with each syllable until he was leaning forward and purring directly into Felix's ear. The coyness with which the request had been made was more than enticing, and Sylvain was more than eager to see what would come next. "Now what?"

Felix moved easily with the strong pull of Sylvain’s legs, his hands bracing against the taut muscles of Sylvain’s thighs. Conditioned by the actions and sensations that always followed his breathy voice, Felix didn’t suppress the shudder that moved up his spine. He smirked at Sylvain and wrapped the shirt around his neck, pulling it down and keeping him close. Felix’s eyes scanned his fiancé’s well-built form before darting his gaze to the fabric in his hands.

“I think you misplaced this.”

"Did I, now?"

Sylvain, never one to shy away from attention, practically preened under Felix's intent and almost predatory gaze. He arched forward a little more and wrapped his hand around the back of his partner's neck to pull him closer and tilt his head up to look into his eyes as he breathed his next words.

"If you're complaining, I can put it back on..."

“Who says I’m complaining?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it as Felix moved with Sylvain, ever-closer. Looking down into Sylvain’s honeyed eyes, Felix’s own amber gaze turned sharp. He whispered low and rough, barely loud enough for Sylvain’s ears.

“Seeing you flexing like that is getting me all hot and bothered. And then I see all the people watching you.” Felix opened his mouth, darting his tongue against Sylvain’s earlobe, “It does wonders to know I’m the only one that gets to go home with you.”

"Oh, yeah?" Sylvain countered, voice dropping to match Felix's pitch. He whimpered darkly in his throat at the lap of Felix's tongue and allowed himself a full-body shudder, skin breaking out into goosebumps and nipples instantly hardening against his fiancé's heated flesh.

Meanwhile, his fingers instinctively wove themselves into Felix's hair and subtly pulled near his scalp, jerking his head back to suckle at his neck just behind the ear.

“Yeah,” Felix’s voice was dark as he clenched his teeth in direct response to the tug at his scalp. Felix felt his blood begin to boil at the wet press of lips against his sensitive skin. He leaned into Sylvain, his fingers surreptitiously grazing Sylvain’s hardened nipples as he lowered his hands, gripping hard against his muscled thighs.

“It isn’t fair when you just tease me like that and do nothing about it, you know?”

"What do you want me to do about it, Fe? In case you hadn't noticed, we're in public..."

Sylvain silently marveled at the transformation the other man had undergone since they first met, from shy and almost prudish to...whatever the hell this was but by god, was he ever thankful for it.

Bet he's a good little whore after two weeks with you.

The ugly words echoed in his mind but this time instead of getting upset, Sylvain tightened his legs around Felix's waist and snaked a hand down in between them to palm his cock roughly through the fabric of his pants.

Felix’s eyes widened in shock at the bold grab. Subsequently, he cut off a weak whimper at the pulse of desire that coursed through him from Sylvain’s deft grasp. Felix leaned heavily into Sylvain, allowing him to be their shared support.

“I’ve noticed.” 

Face turned away from Sylvain, there might’ve been some chance he didn’t pick up the petulant notes from his statement. Felix’s face was red from the celebratory drinks, but seeing some of the hungry looks Sylvain pulled with little issue, well, notes of jealousy and possessiveness were only portions of the bouquet.

Sylvain purred against Felix's neck at the pathetic little whimper, one of the many sounds Felix made that he adored most because he knew it meant he had him,completely and irrevocably. He pulsed his grip once, twice, before sliding his hand to a relatively more chaste position at the crook of Felix's hip and thigh.

"You like it," Sylvain said matter-of-factly with a sly smile. "People watching us. Envying you. Envying me.”

He recalled the way Felix had reacted in the jaeger bay just before their first time in Adder and let out a soft groan of his own, grazing his teeth over Felix's skin.

The music swelled around them as others seemingly began to fall under the same effect as the two. Everyone’s movements were a bit more languid, a bit more sensual as Felix’s attention narrowed immediately to his own focus.

“I love it,” Felix corrected, only to nose at the side of Sylvain’s head. 

And that was true. The way people looked at Sylvain with envy was a treat and everything to Felix. Nuzzling close, Felix turned in and pressed against the bite of Sylvain’s teeth. He found Sylvain’s lips with no lack of haste, as he kissed him soundly only to pull back to pout more effectively.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The next sound Sylvain made was dangerously close to a growl, and he nipped at Felix's bottom lip before pouting as the other man pulled away as abruptly as he'd moved in.

"Elaborate?"

He leaned forward again to capture Felix's mouth and busied himself with flicking his tongue over his bottom lip, lazily tracing little S ’s.

Felix remained tasting Sylvain for a few self-indulgent moments before separating his searching tongue and pressing a finger to Sylvain’s lips.

“It riles me up. And that’s good and bad.” Felix looked from under his thick lashes at Sylvain, “It makes me want you something fierce… but I can be jealous too, you know.”

"Mmhmm...make you wanna stake your claim on me?"

Sylvain shivered again, this time at the hungry look Felix was giving him. It, like every other expression that crossed his face, was intense as ever and Sylvain lowered his lashes in response, twisting his fingers deeper into his hair.

As if the question offered Felix a moment of clarity through the haze of his inebriation, he met Sylvain’s eyes, unflinchingly.

“You’re my partner. Mine.”  

Beyond the simmering gaze he wore, Felix moved forward, blatantly going for Sylvain’s bare neck, sucking a fast bruise into his flesh as if the display of their rings nor the gathering were enough on their own to show just that.

Sylvain gasped at the suction, the sound harsh and loud enough to turn multiple heads in their direction, some of whom promptly looked away in embarrassment, while others stared on in fascination, or lust, or both. Still, he clung to Felix, the hand between his legs sliding inward once more to cup his length almost possessively.

"Yours," he repeated, the s trailing off into a low hiss that was a perfect, seamless blend of pain and pleasure. "But now...what are you gonna do about it?"

Before Felix had a chance to answer, thus raising the ante yet again, a familiar, resonant voice cut in with a clinking of glass.

“I’m not sure a live demonstration of what you do elsewhere was expected, but do go on.”

Dimitri’s smile was made wide and easy by the pleasant buzz now rolling through his system. Heads taller than most everyone, he wore fitted black pants with a midnight blue dress shirt, the obsidian-like buttons hanging on for dear life across the wide expanse of his barrel chest. Extending his arm, Dimitri held three beer bottles by the necks.

“Bottoms up.”

Sylvain paused for a moment to eye the man now standing before them, larger even than he was himself and impressive even while clearly shitfaced. He took the bottle gratefully and ran his tongue over the rim with a heated, meaningful gaze at the blonde.

"Was that a pun you just made?" he asked with a wink, keeping his legs locked around Felix's hips but lifting the hand from his crotch to trail his fingers along Dimitri's well-defined forearm.

“It is what you want it to be. And if the shoe fits…” 

Although deep, Dimitri’s voice took a notably light lilt as he ran his own beer bottle down Sylvain’s arm, meeting Sylvain’s coy gaze.

“Give me that.”  

Felix took the beer bottle from Dimitri with a petulant look. Knocking it back, Felix chugged the dark beer. Eyes scanning between the two, Felix wiped at his lips, wriggling unhelpfully in Sylvain’s tight hold. “Should I leave you both to it?”

Dimitri’s eye went wide, as he timidly reached forward, large hand curling at the nape of Felix’s neck.

“Well, no? I’m sorry. I was…” 

Dimitri’s voice trailed off as his mind was catching up to his inebriated decisions as he stood close to the two men.

Somewhere along the way, gradually enough that it had escaped his notice, there had been a turning point with Dimitri. Sylvain suspected it had begun with their confrontation with Miklan and found that he was actually somewhat grateful to his brother--although that could have been the alcohol speaking.

Sylvain's other hand, still on the back of Felix's neck as well, subtly twitched as he stroked the larger man's fingers, giving him a meaningful glance.

"What are you sorry for, Dima?" he murmured, looking through his lashes as the gold shimmer adorning his eyelids caught the light.

“If I,” Dimitri stuttered, “if I interrupted anything.” 

He looked at Sylvain when he felt the fingertips dance over his own. The gold glimmered in the scant light as he felt the breath leave his chest.

Staring right at the man, Felix saw his flabbergasted reactions and knew them well firsthand. Maybe this was the time where he could facilitate that experience further. Still in his tight grasp, Felix leaned away from Sylvain, turning into Dimitri within his outstretched arm.

“And what if we welcomed your interruption?” Felix practically purred the question as Dimitri clenched his jaw.

"Mmhmm," Sylvain agreed, drawing each syllable out long and low. "Maybe we've even talked about this a time or two..."

While his ego was mildly bruised by Felix turning away, Sylvain only felt the discomfort for the scantest of moments before it was replaced by another feeling he knew more than well: desire, or more accurately, lust, running white-hot through his entire body as he watched the pair of long-time friends before him. He loosened his grip on Felix just enough to facilitate his fiancé's movements, keen interest evident in his gaze.

Dimitri swallowed hard as his arm reflexively curled around Felix’s small form, effectively squeezing the shorter man between Sylvain and him.

“You’ve both spoken of me? That was no lie?” Dimitri’s tone was ragged and hushed as he leaned closer, the conversation only for the pair.

“Sylvain’s right, you know. We’ve thought about this.” Felix spoke easily, following his fiancés tempo. “More than once. What do you think of us?”

Facing and held in front Dimitri, Felix surreptitiously arched his hips back against Sylvain as his hands went to his co-pilot’s broad chest.

Taking Felix's cue, Sylvain curved himself forward to meet his hips, easily forming himself to the smaller man's shape. He used the positioning to his advantage and captured Dimitri's earlobe between his teeth, then tugged lightly.

"Felix actually brought up the idea of taking both of us. At the same time," he breathed. "What do you think of that idea?"

At the sharp tug and the accompanying words, Dimitri audibly wheezed as his lapis iris was overtaken by his enlarged pupil. His fingers dug into Sylvain’s at the back of Felix’s neck.

“You want to,” he started, his voice nearly cracking, “try to have us at the same… can you?”

It was at his incredulousness and the familiar weight at his back that Felix felt his cheeks warm past the point of alcohol.

“Ideally,” he said, only the slightest bit affronted as he recalled the time they spent practicing with that very idea in mind. “Listen, if you’re not interested, just say it so we can stop–”

“No!”

The sharp interruption took Felix aback, literally recoiling, back flush against Sylvain’s chest as he looked on with wide eyes. Dimitri followed, one hand on Felix, the other on Sylvain.

“I’m sorry, but,” Dimitri started, “I’m interested. Very.” His words were quick as he towered over the pair. “I was shocked, is all. Can we, can we discuss this elsewhere?”

Sylvain's lips, now halfway down the blonde's neck, began to curl into a sly grin at the way his words stuttered and rushed by turns. He flexed his fingers one by one in slow succession, each movement perfectly controlled.

"I think," he began in a low rumble, "that it might be a good idea. After all, we don't want to start anything here that we can't finish."

He parted his lips ever-so-slightly to press just the tip of his tongue over Dimitri's pulse, now thudding heavily beneath skin flushed by liquor...among other things.

Felix bit his lip as he took an odd pleasure in seeing someone else be in the same tizzy he had fallen victim to time and again with Sylvain (and as far as Felix was concerned, he’d freely continue to do so).

Letting Sylvain have his own way, Felix tapped at his long-legged prison, finally freeing himself as he moved quietly through the crowd, trusting Sylvain would follow.

Sylvain ran a single fingertip down the center of Dimitri's chest, pausing briefly at the third button down to pop it open and pull it away to peer mischievously down his collar with a grin. Then he hooked his other index finger through the man's belt loop and pulled him down the hallway, closely trailing his fiancé.

The confused looks he received from Ashe and Dedue—the pair he had grown awfully close to—were missed completely. Dimitri was beyond autopilot as he was led by the britches to…Felix’s quarters. Gulping, he closed the metal door behind him as he watched Sylvain slink on the bed, languid and confident, encircling and settling behind his co-pilot.

When they arrived at Felix's room, he slipped off his shoes and hoisted himself up on the bed, gathering his knees to his chest while he tried to focus on his breathing through the nervousness settling into his bones. Sylvain similarly kicked off his shoes and stalked, pantherlike, toward the smaller man who was perched almost timidly on the bed. He moved behind him to pull him close to his bare chest once more, spreading his legs just enough to position Felix between his thighs, and fixed Dimitri with an intense gaze over Felix's shoulder.

As ever, Felix moved pliantly with Sylvain; his touch a calming agent as Felix let out a shuddering breath, expelling the nerves. If he had Sylvain, he was safe. This was something they wanted. Out of reflex, Felix reached up, tangling his fingers in Sylvain’s fringe as he scratched at his scalp.

Dimitri crossed the simple room in a stride and a half where he stood stock still as if he were waiting for permission, and perhaps he was.

Sylvain made a soft sound akin to a purr deep in his throat at the feeling of Felix's fingers in his hair, his own hands sliding forward to splay across his partner's chest.

"Come here," he said simply with a jerk of his head in case Dimitri needed further confirmation, given his current lust- and liquor-addled state. He thumbed across Felix's clothed nipples as he paused for a moment, watching intently with eyes now nearly blacked out with desire. "He wants you. I want you."

And god damn if Sylvain Gautier didn't (nearly) always get what he wanted.

Chapter 84: Sharing is Caring Pt. 1

Summary:

It would be a lie if it was said that Felix hadn’t thought about what it would be like to see another with Sylvain. And it took only a split second for Felix to know his fantasies hadn’t done it justice. Dimitri pressed into his chest, pinning him against Sylvain, all Felix could do was watch in slack-jawed awe at the two men clashing their lips together.

Chapter Text

When Felix’s chest pressed out momentarily as Sylvain’s fingers found his already stiff nipples, Dimitri lumbered onto the bed one knee at a time, sitting upright, looking down at the men tightly slotted together.

“I can just go. You two look like you…”

“Dima.” Felix’s voice was sharp, cutting through the minutiae of indecision. “I want you to watch.” 

Felix turned and placed a gentle hand (that likely had no business being as soft as it was for what they were about to do) on Sylvain’s cheek, meeting his lips in a soft press, yawning into his mouth.

Sylvain eagerly met the kiss, sliding his tongue deep into Felix's mouth and drawing it forward from his hard palate to the backs of his teeth in one languid stroke. Though his eyelids fluttered closed at the first contact, he forced one open to watch Dimitri, closely monitoring his every reaction.

One hand traveled downward from Felix's chest to tease at the waistband of his pants for a moment before popping the button open. In lieu of reaching inside for what he already wanted more than anything in the world, he continued downward to stroke at Felix's inseam, still making pointed eye contact with the blonde.

Felix moaned into Sylvain’s mouth with little affect at his fiancé’s deft, teasing strokes. He only opened his eyes when he felt the mattress shift from under him. Other than it being awkward to kiss with his eyes open, Felix first noted Sylvain was looking just past him. There was little guesswork at what that was when a large hand joined his at Sylvain’s shoulder. When Felix pulled away, he watched as Dimitri pressed against him, his mouth finding Sylvain’s lips and pressing them together seamlessly.

It would be a lie if it was said that Felix hadn’t thought about what it would be like to see another with Sylvain. And it took only a split second for Felix to know his fantasies hadn’t done it justice. Dimitri pressed into his chest, pinning him against Sylvain, all Felix could do was watch in slack-jawed awe at the two men clashing their lips together.

The force of Dimitri's kiss took Sylvain off-guard and he gasped lightly, then nipped at the other man's bottom lip before drawing it into his mouth and sucking hard. At a pace that was infuriatingly, frustratingly slow even for him. Sylvain began to grind his hips forward against Felix's lower back, moaning freely into the larger man's mouth.

Feeling suddenly selfish, Sylvain gently guided Felix forward and swept his tongue over both pairs of lips, then pulled back to watch what he knew would be an incredible show.

"I want to see what you would've done all those years ago," he rasped, keeping his hand in the middle of Felix's thigh to allow Dimitri access, if he wanted.

The forceful nature of Sylvain’s voracious kisses spiked something competitive inside Dimitri as he met his lips with a fervor. Tongues and lips clashing, Dimitri moaned as he pressed harder in feeling Felix’s still-familiar shape.

Felix, himself was caught unawares and staring when Sylvain moved his face, open to Sylvain’s exploratory touches. The smaller man had made it so he was focused on the show and pressing back with each grind of Sylvain’s hips. When his words registered however, Felix snapped out of his haze as he turned his eyes up only to find Dimitri staring unwaveringly back at him, chest rising and falling in deep passes. Felix swallowed as his eyes darted from Sylvain back to Dimitri before nodding.

Still against Sylvain, Felix placed his hand on Dimitri’s cheek and the other on his chest as he led him down with a soft press of his lips. They parted momentarily, Felix looking at Dimitri for any sign of discomfort, only to be met with a lazy, wide smile as he pressed their lips together, moaning into Felix’s mouth. Dimitri’s hands roamed his slender form, pulling Felix against him as they deepened the kiss.

Sylvain watched with no small amount of thoroughly hypocritical jealousy as the pair before him moved seamlessly together with an ease borne of literal decades together, time that he realized they would never have themselves.

He pushed the bitterness away, focusing instead on rocking his hips more insistently against Felix and fighting the urge to let his hands wander his body. He was too focused on watching the sight unfolding before him.

"Yeah, like that, he likes being grabbed like that," Sylvain panted, reluctantly guiding Felix forward to nestle his body snugly against Dimitri's.

“Like that, huh?” Dimitri barely separated their mouths to breathe life into his words before diving back down, tasting Felix as his hands threaded through the silky hair he recalled.

Felix was confused, overwhelmed, and loving the overstimulation he was receiving. Sylvain’s incessant rocking at his back kept time as Felix stole Dimitri’s breath with languid movements of his own. But as he was pressed forward by Sylvain, Felix was confused, but understood that was his cue to engage more.

“Grab me.” In an attempt to perform better, Felix clung onto Dimitri letting him maneuver him in his strong grasp. Being pushed further, Felix spread his legs and pulled himself up using Dimitri’s brute form to curl himself, legs locking around his hips. Dimitri didn’t miss the command where he cradled Felix close, hoisting him up as they moaned into their heated kiss.

"Pull his hair, you know he likes that."

Sylvain's tone was almost pleading as he pushed forward, more firmly this time, until no space remained between the other two men. He leaned in with the full length of his body, the hard muscles of his torso pressing against Felix's back as well as the backs of Dimitri's hands.

The jealousy had begun to abate and he found himself far more concerned with facilitating whatever the pair wanted to do--he and Felix would have the rest of their lives together, and he deserved to be spoiled like this at least once.

Feeling Sylvain’s movements, Dimitri pressed hard forward effectively sandwiching Felix between them. Felix whimpered at Sylvain’s instruction as Dimitri jerked his head back in a long, slow pull, arching his neck against Sylvain’s shoulder.

As Dimitri pulled, he did not slow in his relentless assault, he slid his lips down the column of Felix’s stretched neck. The pull and the hard sucks of Dimitri’s mouth was sending pulses of pleasurable pain throughout his body, electrifying his system. Felix cradled Dimitri’s head as he whimpered and panted.

“Oh fuck… Right there, Dima.”

Sylvain whimpered in response to Felix's reaction and thrust his hips forward hard against the smaller man's ass one final time before holding perfectly still, surprised at how quickly he was already starting to get worked up.

Not wanting to be completely left out, he dropped his hands to the mattress before slipping them beneath the larger man now lying prone under them to grab his ass and pull his hips up roughly at the same time he bucked forward again, effectively grinding Felix between them.

Remaining still, even here, even now, Felix managed to be impressed with Sylvain’s strength. Flipped easily with Dimitri, Felix looked back over his shoulder at Sylvain at his back. I want to see you went unsaid as he felt Sylvain’s length. Felix moaned as he moved his hips back against Sylvain when Dimitri caught his chin turning his face and capturing his lips. Felix whimpered against Dimitri’s lips as he thrust forward experimentally between his legs.

If he wasn’t preoccupied, Dimitri would compliment Sylvain on his position switch. But preoccupied he was. Tasting Felix and feeling the stiff press to his own turgid length made Dimitri moan. Dimitri reached around and squeezed at Sylvain’s cheeks making more friction between their lengths.

“Dima,” Sylvain whined at the firm grip, more than a little impressed with the man's passion...once he loosened up. He ground against Felix more insistently, moving in slow dips so they could both relish the feeling of Sylvain's length between Felix's cheeks.

Sylvain hooked his fingers once more into Dimitri's belt loops, just as he had in the dining hall, and began to guide his hips up and down in the same gentle rocking motion, making bold eye contact with both men by turns.

Felix whimpered in direct response to Sylvain’s call. There was a part of him that wished it was his name that Sylvain was sighing. But this was no time for wishful thinking, just action. Felix pressed back, wriggling his ass against his fiancé’s thick cock. He lowered his mouth to Dimitri and captured his mouth, sucking savagely on his tongue.

Dimitri, all the while, had no idea his name could sound like it did from Sylvain’s throat. He canted his hips up as he dug his nails into the fabric at the seat of Sylvain’s pants. He exhaled shakily directly into Felix’s mouth feeling himself grow painfully hard.

"Think you guys are overdressed?" Sylvain teased, though the breathless undercurrent in his voice betrayed his own, equally nearly-overwrought state. He nipped playfully at Felix's shoulder, pulling lightly at the fabric with his teeth.

With one final, harsh tug at Dimitri's pants, Sylvain released the loops of fabric in favor of snaking his hands up his fiancé's torso and unfastening the buttons of his shirt one by one with painful leisure. When the offending fabric was finally out of the way, he reached down and did the same for Dimitri, taking a moment to gaze, awestruck, at the almost offensively well-defined muscles of his torso.

Free of his shirt, Felix rolled his shoulders, pressing up into his fiancé letting Sylvain’s hands roam Dimitri’s form, divesting him of his own shirt. And-

“Goddamn, Dima. How do you have even more muscle now?” Felix ran his hands up Dimitri’s bare torso as he palmed at his muscled pectorals in awe. His roving hands and comment were met with a deep chuckle.

“Part of the territory, right? But look at you.” After shrugging out of his shirt, Dimitri’s hands fell completely on Felix. “You’ve always looked good, but now,” his voice trailed off as his rough fingers grazed Felix’s stiff nipples, knuckles tracing down the lines of his abdomen. “You look incredible, Fe.”

Another awful undercurrent of jealousy surged through Sylvain at the mutual compliments, less due to the words themselves than the way in which they were spoken--reverently, nostalgically. He remained behind Felix, though he moved his hands out of the way, feeling like a petulant child being forced to share his favorite toy.

"Doesn't he, though?" he breathed almost possessively, trailing kisses in little sets of three along Felix's bare shoulders. "You both do."

And although it hurt like hell, Sylvain was also grateful for the opportunity to watch.

Though his hands were preoccupied, Felix longed for a sign of their connection, a sign they were fine and that he wasn’t alone in this. And then, there they were. Three kisses, all in sets, dappled across his shoulders. Ignoring the praise from both men, Felix immediately arched his back and reached behind him, capturing Sylvain’s head.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Felix’s voice was breathless as he pressed hard against Sylvain’s lips in an uninhibited, open-mouth kiss. Licking desperately into his mouth, Felix damn near wanted to swallow him whole.

The positioning of the unrestrained kiss allowed Dimitri an unfettered and unobstructed view. Both pilots, skin against skin, twisted around each other, all while writhing on top of him. The sight alone would’ve been enough for Dimitri. Instead, he rocked against Felix, chasing the friction.

“We do,” Dimitri agreed, his tone dipping lower, “let me see what you can do to him.”

"If you want to see what I can do," Sylvain answered, the playful lilt returning to his voice, "you'll have to give him back to me first."

Though he longed to continue the kiss until both of them died of asphyxiation, he knew that breaking it was a sacrifice he had to make for the greater good. Sylvain slid one arm around Felix's waist to haul him up and back as he sat back on his heels, his other hand dropping to shove Felix's legs apart. He made a small sound of displeasure at the realization that his fiancé was still wearing his pants but made no attempt to remove them, deciding it was best to tease both men for now.

He kept his eyes locked on Dimitri even as he began to tongue and nip at the side of Felix's neck, breath puffing up tiny wisps of hair. The hand between Felix's legs moved steadily upward until he was fully cupping his cock, giving the occasional subtle pulse with his palm and fingers.

There was something in the way that Sylvain spoke that reignited the flicker of competitive hunger within Dimitri. Watching as Felix was pulled back in Sylvain’s grasp, making the sweetest moans and gasps with his every move, Dimitri felt himself rock against his taut zipper.

“I’m watching.” 

His voice was low as he sat up knees against Sylvain‘s knees pressing against Felix’s chest. His hand covered Sylvain‘s on Felix‘s crotch as he watched with a close attention at the suction at his neck.

Sylvain raised a satisfied brow at the immediate reaction from the man pinned beneath their combined weight. He flicked his darkened gaze down for a glimpse at Dimitri's straining zipper...and decided to leave it closed for now, just because he wanted to tease. And also be kind of an asshole, because despite what he wanted to believe, Sylvain had to admit to himself that he wasn't quite over their...everything.

What he did do, however, was lift Felix off his lap just enough to pull his pants down to his knees. With a dominance in his eyes that for once in his life wasn’t for effect, he boldly stared into the one remaining blue eye as he wrapped his fingers around Felix's cock in a slow but steady rhythm.

Dimitri watched hungrily as Sylvain stroked Felix’s length; he met Sylvain’s combative gaze as he palmed himself, licking his lips as he took in the sight.

Felix moaned, stretching and extending his neck allowing more room for Sylvain’s voracious lips and tongue. His voice rose to a higher pitch as he felt Sylvain palm and begin to stroke his cock. With his insistent touch and the intense stare from Dimitri, Felix whimpered helplessly as he leaned back, using Sylvain as his support. He grabbed Dimitri’s hand and pulled him to grasp at his stiffened nipples.

Not needing to be told twice, Dimitri tweaked Felix‘s pink nipples as he moved closer; the back of Sylvain‘s hand rubbed against his own strained cock.

Sylvain, indulging the blonde just a little, dropped his left hand to press his thumb just to the right of his cock, occasionally rolling inward to stroke against his zipper. The objective, from what he surmised through the thick hazy desire his mind had become, was not only to make Felix feel as good as possible, but to ensure that Dimitri remained interested enough in him to help make that happen.

And sate Sylvain's ego, which he further pursued by drawing the ever-crescendoing chorus of cries from his partner's mouth. He began to twist his wrist the scantest bit each time he reached the tip of Felix's cock; Dimitri had asked--no, demanded--that Sylvain show him what he could do, and he planned to do precisely that.

Felix’s eyes threatened to roll back in his head from the barrage of sensations he was experiencing. Grabbing blindly behind him, Felix held Sylvain’s head close to him as more gasps and moans, sounds of all types were pulled from his throat. The noises that Felix let out were music to Dimitri’s ears as he practically tuned the man with a tweak of his fingers.

“You sound like you’re enjoying yourself.” Dimitri’s voice sounded with a dark satisfaction that ended in a wet smack as he bent, latching onto Felix’s pert nipple with a vicious suck.

"Oh, he definitely is," Sylvain panted against Felix's neck, switching to one of the few unmarked spots left on the pale flesh. He silently reminded himself that he'd need to change sides before long and wondered what that change in position might feel like.

He thumbed over Felix's leaking slit at the same time he slid his other hand over to grip Dimitri firmly through his straining pants. When he opened his eyes after a slow blink and a short series of even slower dirty grinds against Felix's ass, they were full of mischief.

"You're curious to know what it's like, aren't you." It was stated as a fact rather than a question because all three of them knew it was true. "What it's like to have me stroke your cock so nicely..."

Dimitri nearly growled in response to Sylvain’s words as he bit around the flush flesh. Felix whimpered as he bowed back from Dimitri’s greedy mouth. Pulling from Sylvain he fell forward, his face in the crook of Dimitri’s neck. His hips were poised back searching for more of Sylvain’s sensuous grinding. Cradling the blonde’s head both for support and continued contact with his chest, Felix laved at his ear and neck—whatever skin he could get to.

“Sylvain,” Felix panted and mouthed into Dimitri’s flushed flesh, “I want to see. Do it.”

Without needing further instruction or encouragement, Sylvain finally unfastened Dimitri's pants and freed his cock, peering around Felix's lithe form to take a good look for the first time. He was far from disappointed--in fact, he found himself slightly envious of the thick length. He consoled himself by recalling the memory of Felix saying he was better than the flashlight, which appeared to be roughly the same girth as the blonde's length.

"How do you want to see me do it, Fe?"

Sylvain grasped the thick length lightly and gave a series of rapid, delicate strokes. After a few passes of his fist, he paused to grip it firmly at the base.

"More importantly...what do you  want, Dimitri?"

Dimitri’s one eye widened at Sylvain’s ministrations as he broke Felix and canted his hips forward into his grasp and subsequent strokes. Dimitri let out a loud sigh of pent up want as he focused on the deft strokes he was treated to.

“The tip, focus there” he breathed before adding, “and my sack.” Again, he canted his hips forward pressing into Sylvain’s grip.

Felix, internally begging for a moment’s reprieve, was granted a pause from the outstanding pressure and other bouts of pleasure he had experienced by Dimitri’s answer. Without knowing the specifics, Felix removed the rest of his clothes and moved to help facilitate just that. In a couple of swift movements, Felix was on all fours, cupping at Dimitri’s taut  balls with an expectant look towards Sylvain as if to say on your go.

Sylvain obliged almost immediately, sliding his hand down Felix's cock in one smooth stroke. Hand now freed up, he cupped Dimitri's balls roughly in his opposite hand and squeezed, a challenging and borderline feral smile on his face.

"This good enough for you?"

Sylvain pulsed his grip over Felix's slender hand and continued to work diligently at the blonde's cock, doing exactly as told and paying special attention to the head.

“Keep at it, Gautier.”

Dimitri hissed out at the harsh, yet pleasurable squeeze. His hand shot up, gripping Sylvain by the back of his neck and pulling into another aggressive kiss, matching Sylvain’s feral energy.

Felix, for his part, was more than happy to be out of the way as the two men clashed. Though his cock pulsed in interest at the sight of the moaning pair. Moving low to the side, Felix palmed Sylvain’s clothed, untouched cock in one hand, the other palming and rolling Dimitri’s taut sack in the other.

Sylvain practically snarled at the sound of his surname, diving into the kiss without hesitation and drawing Dimitri's bottom lip into his mouth to bite down hard. He still wasn't quite sure how he felt about the other man, or if he even liked him at all, but one thing was perfectly clear: Sylvain wanted him, and desperately.

His next breath broke off into a long, filthy moan as he felt Felix's hand finally drift to where he wanted it most and he bucked forward harshly. All the while, he continued the pace of his own strokes, pressing his thumb to the underside of the blonde's cock and rubbing hard at the tip on each pass.

Gasping from the immense pleasure of the hands on him, Dimitri remained tethered to Sylvain as his hips stuttered. He gripped hard at Sylvain’s nape when his teeth claimed his bottom lip in a vicious bite. Being with Felix was something on its own that Dimitri had yet to parse out, yet this particular interlude with Sylvain Gautier was unlike anything he had ever experienced—something he was loath to stop.

Though there was a chorus of grunts and taunts from above him, Felix focused more than ever on his own actions. Kneading Dimitri at the same pace with Sylvain’s strokes, Felix grasped firmly at Sylvain’s rigid length tracing its large shape. The delicious sound of Sylvain’s moan prompted Felix further; he’d do whatever he had to do to bring about that sound again. In an instant, he bent and latched on, suckling hard at his sensitive nipple.

This time, the sound that escaped Sylvain in response to the brutal sensation of lips and tongue at his nipple was positively obscene,  trailing off into a weak, desperate whine breathed directly into Dimitri's mouth. He pulsed his grip on both men's lengths and shivered, back arching dramatically.

"You should do that to Dima," he gasped, breaking the brutal kiss. "He should get to see what it feels like, too. Fuck, Fe, your mouth feels so good..."

He writhed between the pair--bulky and slender, light and dark--and allowed his eyelids to flutter shut, losing himself to the sensations of being spoiled by the man he loved and the man he hated slightly less now.

“Yeah?”

Yet to release his hold at Sylvain’s nipple, Felix laved at the tender flesh of his chest. He abandoned his hand motions for a moment to yank Sylvain’s pants haphazardly down his thighs, freeing his erection.

Felix looked up at his fiancé with wide eyes. The man was thoroughly in the throes of passion. That he was so willing to engage in this manner because he cared so ardently sent a pulse of affection and desire throughout Felix’s system. Desperate to please, Felix gave a hard suck before dragging his teeth and lips up as he stroked Sylvain’s rigid length.

Dimitri stayed as still as one could with a pounding heart, chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. He watched the pair with bated breath, his hand sliding along Felix as if to facilitate Sylvain’s wishes.

The undeniably primal hunger with which Dimitri was now watching them sparked new desire--and pride--within Sylvain. The instant his cock was freed from its confines, Sylvain thrust his hips up in search of contact, meeting Felix's wide-eyed gaze with his own lustful stare.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You should show him what I've taught you...don't you think?"

He released Dimitri's cock and guided Felix's hand to take his place, flicking his eyes between them to better watch. Then, in silent reassurance, Sylvain reached up and slipped his fingers into Felix's hair, twining them in silky strands and kneading gently at his scalp.

Following Sylvain’s directives, perhaps a bit too well, Felix’s eyes glazed over in a lust-filled haze as his head fell back lazily into Sylvain’s well-practiced touches, nodding his assent. Even in the dim light of his room, the silver pigments shone as his eyes lidded, showing his best come hither look before turning his look towards Dimitri, his hands following.

Face already red in effort, the blonde man felt his face flush under Felix’s gaze. Dimitri’s strong, broad features softened as he moved his hand to Felix’s silky strands, mirroring Sylvain’s kneading as he reverently muttered Felix’s name. His mouth opened in slack jaw awe as Felix’s lips fell just to the right of his mouth, peppering his jaw with lazy kisses. Sucking lightly against the pulse at his neck, he worked his way down to Dimitri’s stiffened nipple as Felix’s hands twisted, rolling his sack and palming at his sensitive cockhead.

Sylvain watched the sight before him unfold with a dizzying mixture of awe, envy, and desire as Dimitri and Felix moved seamlessly together. He recognized that he was helping them find closure, in his own uniquely fucked-up way.

With a series of subtle shifts, Sylvain managed to take both Felix's cock and his own in hand, hips undulating forward with each stroke. He kept his gaze focused intently on what his partner was doing, and where, attempting to anticipate his every move and return the sensations to him double.

"That's so good... you’re so good," Sylvain murmured, subconsciously trying to make his presence known to the pair who appeared to now be thoroughly enjoying each other. "Like that..."

Dimitri’s resonant voice joined Sylvain’s in agreement, moaning hushed acknowledgement, intimate or not, that he knew Felix craved. Still tangled in his hair, held Felix’s head close to his chest. The other snaked down Felix’s solid side grazing over the swell of his ass as he squeezed, his cock beading with precome.

In conjunction with the men’s affirmations, as could be expected, Felix moaned wantonly as Sylvain began stroking him, humming contently around Dimitri’s pink flesh. His humming cut off into a sharp gasp as the large hand grasped at his cheek, whimpering at his tight hold.

Content with Felix's current positioning--and more than pleased with the chorus of moans, words, and sighs coming from the two men--Sylvain gently removed his hand from Felix's hair and slid it down to cup the unattended cheek. He groaned softly in response to Felix's whimper and walked his fingers gradually inward to probe at his cleft.

While he certainly could have planned better for the occasion and bothered to locate their lube, Sylvain decided there was no harm in teasing Felix just a little, opening up the opportunity for what he knew his fiancé truly wanted.

"Fe," he breathed heatedly against Felix's skin as he began to circle his hole with the tip of his middle finger, other hand still stroking them both with the same slow motion.

With Dimitri, everything Felix did with him sent a bolt of pure lust through his system. And why wouldn’t it? Dimitri was handsome, built, and accomplished. How would it be anything short of amazing? But with Sylvain? There was no comparison. Being with him was second nature. Being with Sylvain was being himself. When Sylvain spoke into his heated flesh and walked his fingers down his oversensitive skin, Felix felt like he was on fire and he handed Sylvain the lighter fluid.

Felix moaned at the touch, turning away from Dimitri, instinctually turning towards Sylvain with a needy mewl of his name as he arched his ass into the grip.

With Sylvain pressed to his side, Dimitri turned his head to watch the two men as his pulse began to race. The two were more in tune than any pilots he had ever seen, much less any lovers. Dimitri’s already farfetched desire to make Felix his ebbed ever further away as he leaned into Sylvain and clutched Felix tighter.

Sylvain's heart (and cock) swelled at the way Felix said his name; it was slightly different each time and yet it always felt familiar, like coming home. Despite their current, very prurient circumstances involving another, Felix was still his.

He pressed in lightly, teasing at his rim with a low moan of anticipation. He turned his head just enough to look into Dimitri's eye, the blue now almost completely blacked out.

"He's always so tight, Dima," he whispered, just loud enough for Felix to hear. "Every goddamn time. Have you thought about what he feels like before?"

Sylvain's tone was gentle, but he knew that his commentary was bordering just on the edge of cruelty...and he didn't care.

“Sylvain.”

His whine was one of clear desperation. Felix fell forward, leaning against the wall that Sylvain and Dimitri created. Away from either of gazes, his cheeks burned with the unnecessary commentary Sylvain sought to provide. Felix’s hips canted forward the slightest amount at their own will, bucking up into Sylvain’s hand.

Hand moving to catch his back, Dimitri’s vision stayed locked on Sylvain. He wasn’t sure, but the gentle tone that he said the most salacious things…this felt like bait. And Dimitri was too far gone to care about it now. He reached down, stretching Felix’s cheek apart as Sylvain’s teasing finger remained, now with more clearance.

“I knew he’d be tight.” Dimitri’s voice came out in a gravelly whisper. “I bet you’d fit so snug, so perfect, Fe.” He turned to nip affectionately at Felix’s ear, earning him another whine, this time, followed by a generous lave of his tongue as his arms wrapped around their necks.

Sylvain had expected at least mild contempt no matter the response he received, so he was incredibly shocked to find that the opposite was true: hearing another man describe his filthy fantasies about his fiancé was more of a turn-on than he ever could have imagined.

"Like this."

Sylvain's tone remained velvet-soft as he began to instruct the other man. He scissored his middle and index fingers around Dimitri's and guided their joined hands forward. Then, he pressed lightly on Dimitri's nail bed, indicating for him to be firmer with his touches.

"He won't break, Dima...he likes it kinda rough. Don't you, Fe?"

Head over his shoulder and nestled deeper against Sylvain, Felix watched Dimitri, nodding.

All the breath escaped Dimitri’s chest as he followed Sylvain’s dexterous fingers. How he could be so affected by mere words and such small movements was news to Dimitri when he would routinely be six inches down someone’s throat to reach the same level.

“Like this?” The question came out low and uncertain. Again, yet another difference…

Sylvain reluctantly released Felix's cock and bent backward in an impressive arch, one long arm fumbling for the lube they kept in the nearby nightstand. It was a stretch and he barely managed to reach it, but soon he had his prize in hand and was impatiently popping the top with his teeth.

"Let me show you first," he murmured to the other man, guiding his larger hands to Felix's cheeks and spreading them wide. "You should learn how he likes it, after all."

The statement was one born of possessiveness disguised as generosity, and Sylvain smirked inwardly as he slicked up his fingers and pushed just the tip of his index finger inside, up to the first knuckle. Then he held perfectly still, awaiting Felix's inevitable reaction.

Dimitri practically held his breath as he watched Sylvain’s, apparently, practiced movements. And for what he experienced next, he was glad for it.

Between them, Felix leaned and arched his back as Sylvain sunk his finger home. He moaned out, gasping at nothing, extending Sylvain’s name into a languid prayer.

“More.”

In Felix’s deceptively strong grip, he pulled at Dimitri, leading him into a desperate and sloppy kiss.

Though he once again felt a tiny twinge of jealousy, Sylvain decided to sacrifice his ego at the altar of Felix's pleasure and gripped Dimitri's hair with his free hand to shove him closer to Felix, effectively roughening the kiss.

Withdrawing his finger for just a moment, Sylvain grasped Dimitri's hand more firmly and guided his index finger into Felix's opening alongside his own, this time as deep as he could. He allowed himself a small whimper, feeling himself twitch and throb in anticipation, but forced himself to be patient; he knew it would be more than worth it in the end.

Between the rough kiss and the deep insertion, one of those alone would probably have done it. Without warning, without ceremony, Felix came abruptly, coating their stomachs in white. In the face of what definitely should have been a longer, more drawn out task, Felix wilted under his own perceived failure.

Collapsing forward, he exhaled against Dimitri, turning towards Sylvain.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed in the scant space of Sylvain’s skin, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin this.”

"You didn't," Sylvain purred, rutting his own profusely leaking cock against Felix's body. He knew that it was the novelty of the situation and not his fiancé's (relative) inexperience that was the cause, and it pleased him. "You held out a lot longer than I would've, Fe. But...can we keep going? Do you want us to keep making you feel good?"

He twitched his finger subtly, bending his middle finger at the knuckle to stroke against Felix's entrance, now stretched the smallest amount, and cast Dimitri a meaningful sideways glance.

Dimitri froze with the sudden action or reaction. Pausing in the moment caught between the pair, Dimitri took the rumpled sheet, wiping off the majority of the evidence.

Catching Sylvain’s eye, Dimitri followed suit, extending and curling his finger, scissoring Felix open. It wasn’t that he was lost in the pair’s flow, but that the pair flowed so well together. Dimitri wasn’t feeling overwhelmed, but surprisingly, felt like an equal participant. And as that equity led, he played his part. Wiping spend from Felix’s thigh, Dimitri began to coat his own cock as he worked in conjunction with Sylvain.

“Let us take care of you for once.”

On Dimitri’s shoulder, Felix nodded weakly at the twin sentiments. His assent carried into a weak moan that raised and fell with the curve of Sylvain and Dimitri’s fingers.

Sylvain continued to slowly, methodically work Felix open with Dimitri's help. He had to give it to the man; he was certainly a fast learner, though Sylvain suspected (and took perverse comfort in) knowing that much of what appeared to be instinct was probably the result of countless late-night fantasies.

He winked at Dimitri just as he began to slide another finger into his partner's waiting body, though his composure and control faltered as he remembered the night they'd spent preparing for this moment. His lips parted in a silent moan and he pressed kisses all over Felix's skin, anywhere he could reach. At some point, unbeknownst to him, his wandering mouth made it to Dimitri's shoulder and while it startled him, he didn't pull away.

Working in a perfect tandem towards a shared goal, Dimitri barely missed a beat when Sylvain slid another finger into Felix.

“More.”

To say the small pleading shocked Dimitri was an understatement. Even with only one eye, he conveyed his need for concerned clarification to which Felix spoke up again.

“More, Dima.” Felix’s words were slurred as his head lolled from one chest to the other, getting lost in the buffet of sensations. “Like m’Sylvain.”

When Sylvain’s lips fell on his shoulders, Dimitri leaned heavily into his side and slotted another finger along with his Sylvain. Nearly baring his teeth, Dimitri latched onto the pristine skin of Felix’s neck.

Taking Dimitri's cue, Sylvain leaned in to run the flat of his tongue up the other side of Felix's neck, occasionally suckling in a suggestion of what he wanted to do to his cock. Upon feeling Dimitri's second finger join his own, Sylvain found himself utterly intrigued. He scissored his fingers twice more before sliding his left ring finger to wrap around Dimitri's own, furthering the stretch.

"Like this, Fe?" Sylvain purred against his neck in between generous strokes of his tongue. "Or do you want even more?”

As if he was on fire, all of Felix’s sense were alight and pushing the upper limits of oversensitivity and if this was how he needed to die, so fucking be it. Felix whined out, voice grounding out into a low groan, nodding at Sylvain, somehow able to still nuzzle against the cheeks and temples that surrounded him as their lips never parted with his skin.

For all of Dimitri’s focus, he was falling into a hazy state, painfully aroused for such a sustained time. But with the man to his side and the man in front of him—his fantasies made even better in the flesh—Dimitri wasn’t going to miss a single moment. In a deep voice, Dimitri spoke at his marked up throat.

“You can do more, can’t you?”

The next sound Sylvain made began as a competitive, borderline primal snarl that turned into a low, drawn-out whine at the gentle nuzzling. Given that Dimitri was taunting him into giving Felix even more pleasure, he couldn't find it in himself to be jealous of the blonde receiving those very same nuzzles.

"You fucking know I can," he responded, but his tone was closer to a breathy groan than a cocky snap. He slipped his hand between them to grab the lube and awkwardly slicked his hand up, again circling Felix's entrance before inserting the digit in to the last knuckle as gently as possible, biting down hard into his lip at the incredible stretch and pressure.

Now Felix was impossibly full, stretched beyond anything he had experienced thus far. When Sylvain circled his ring of muscle and pressed inside, he jolted. Worried wide eyes shot to Sylvain.

“Kiss me. Now.”

Felix’s quiet command surprised even him but he needed it. He needed that connection; Sylvain was his tether in the unfamiliar. He scrabbled and clutched against their chests, his nails digging into their skin leaving only traces of red.

Distracting himself from the call of one lover to another was easier than Dimitri had intended. His fingers were squeezed with the spasm as he sought to temper Felix by laving attention to his skin, his free hand stroking his body in what he hoped were calming passes.

A powerful wave of concern washed over Sylvain at the demanding tone in Felix's voice; while he was used to his fierce fiancé being bossy in bed, he'd never heard him sound quite like this.

"You okay, Fe?" he asked softly, pausing the forward press of his fingers in favor of curling each digit up to stroke against his prostate. "If you want to stop, it's okay. I understand."

Secretly, Sylvain was slightly proud of Felix for not only being able to endure, but want to, experience this. With them. With him.

Were Felix not being held and propped up by the two men, the expert curl of his fingers would have buckled him. He visibly shook as he whimpered in ecstasy. Stretching, penetrating, and curling. That flashlight couldn’t have done that.

“That’s not what I said.” Through the spark of pleasure that Sylvain’s fingers tickled, Felix immediately gripped low at his thick red strands of hair and pulled, meeting Sylvain’s lips with a desperate abandon, groaning into the movement.

Dimitri’s cock had wept continuously as soon as they had embraced Felix, yet at the sight of Felix kissing Sylvain so fervently, he felt he could’ve come right then. Getting impossibly closer, Dimitri straddled Felix’s thigh where he began to rut his swollen length.

On Felix's other side, Sylvain similarly straddled his thigh and began to grind roughly into it. His cock, neglected for far too long and painfully hard, glistened with precome as he felt himself throbbing not just at the pressure and pleasure, but at the sudden realization of what they were doing.

He moaned into Felix's mouth, tongues tangling together as Sylvain delved impossibly deep. Though he remained acutely aware of Dimitri's presence, he found it difficult to care; it appeared that the man was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Felix was breathless as he leaned back, losing himself in the deep kiss and erratic movements of the two men practically in his lap. In an attempt to get some amount of balance back, Felix bit at Sylvain’s lip as he pressed back on their combined fingers.

Dimitri’s thrusts had slowed down to long, languid passes over the length of Felix’s lean thigh. If he took a moment, he would admit to being content with finding orgasm on Felix’s hip. But, if there was an opportunity for him to reach it elsewhere? Dimitri would find a way to hold out a bit more.

Not wanting to be beaten at his own game by Dimitri of all people, Sylvain slowed his own pace, breathing slowly steadying as he calmed himself just enough to focus on his partner.

"Fe," he breathed against the other man's lips in a display of intimacy that disregarded the third man's presence in the room. "Do you think you can take both of us? And...how do you want it?"

Sylvain's mind spun with a myriad of possibilities, each one better than the next: Dimitri first, then Sylvain (which, if he was being honest with himself, had the potential to provoke a near-homicidal fit of jealous rage); vice versa; both of them entering at the same time, as slowly as possible. He groaned softly and thrust forward once, then squeezed his thighs around Felix's leg.

Leaning his head close against Sylvain’s, Felix shook his head.

“I don’t think I can have you both at the same time.” The flashlight being what it was and the men with sweat dotting along their temples and clenching their teeth for the last while…Felix didn’t have an optimistic outlook.

He looked up at Sylvain, recalling his suggestion when they were alone.

“After seeing,” Felix’s eyes darted to Dimitri’s thick cock bouncing at his thigh to Sylvain’s known length, “I think one at a time is what I can do.” Forehead against Sylvain’s, Felix spoke low and soft, just to his fiancé.

“Are you okay with this?” Felix paused for a moment. “Really. If you aren’t, we stop right now.” There was no affect, no double talk, only genuine sincerity.

After a moment of sincere consideration, Sylvain decided that he utterly loathed the idea and would probably feel awful about it for a long time. But it was important to Felix, so he nodded with a warm, gentle smile as he lovingly stroked the other man's cheek.

"More than sure, Fe. My Fe," he added, not to make Dimitri jealous but to reassure Felix that everything was fine and that nothing between them had to change. "Now let's get Dima ready for you, hmm?"

Chapter 85: Sharing is Caring Pt. 2

Summary:

Sylvain lifted his eyes to take in the sight before him: Felix, dark hair damp and falling around his face and shoulders in a silky curtain, thick lashes fluttering, arching against and moving with the other man in a way that seemed so natural…

Chapter Text

Sylvain leaned back and slicked both hands in lube, rubbing them together with the ghost of a devilish smile dancing across his lips. Then he reached out and wrapped them around Dimitri's cock, barely able to cover it from root to tip, and began to stroke slowly.

Felix watched Sylvain with wide eyes, nodding as he went about prepping Dimitri. There was always something behind his smile. This was no case of disbelief or of accused lying. No, he thought, this was just Sylvain being Sylvain. Felix believed in what he said, but it was clear that there was something else to it, there always was, especially when it came to him.

The reassuring touches, the possessiveness of his address gave Felix the insight needed. While Sylvain prepped Dimitri, Felix busied himself with preparing Sylvain. Whispers of affirmation, of love, of loyalty all tumbled from his lips in the form of kisses onto Sylvain’s fevered skin behind his ear.

Watching Sylvain and Felix interact was something that seemed holy. There was a symbiosis between the two that called and answered in exact even and opposite manners. But the truth of the matter was that Dimitri and Felix shared something similar. It was undeniable from the quantitative results of their Drift compatibility, but also of their past and the present of how they moved about each other. Their compatibility was evident by everyone. And Dimitri felt it—he had for years. If this was to be their one chance, he wouldn’t squander it.

Dimitri moved one hand to Sylvain’s shoulder and the other to Felix. He moaned compliantly and eagerly at each pass of Sylvain’s deft hands.

Sylvain's breath caught in his throat at the softly spoken words; as always, Felix knew exactly what to say to reassure him, to serve as balm for old wounds he didn't even realize he had. He murmured countless I love you' s against Felix's fever-hot skin, giving him his near-full and undivided attention even as he expertly worked Dimitri's cock.

"Say when you're ready," he murmured, remembering what Dimitri had asked for earlier and cupping his taut sack in his opposite hand as he guided the larger man forward. With his hand near the middle of Dimitri's shaft, he began to draw circles around Felix's hole with the slick head, leaning back to carefully watch his fiancé's reaction.

Dimitri moved forward, unhindered under Sylvain’s careful guidance. His hands dropped to Felix, turning his face towards him. Flushed, kiss-swollen lips, hazy eyes, Felix had never looked so enticing. Bending forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to Felix as his hands found his lithe sides, lifting and moving him atop his lap where he nodded at Sylvain angling his cockhead against Felix’s entrance.

A flash of annoyance crossed Felix’s face as his face was directed away from Sylvain. He was being spoiled in the most exquisite manner and somehow, still managed to be a brat about it. No matter the pleasure he felt between the two men, Felix felt cheated any time Sylvain’s hushed, heartfelt words were cut short.

“Ready.” 

The insistent circular presses to his entrance made his cock stir. Hovering over Dimitri’s solid lap, Felix brought his arms to drape over his shoulders as he met Dimitri’s lips with a small press.

Sylvain gave a brief nod, feeling slightly grim about the whole thing. While it had seemed hot in theory, the reality was proving to be more painful than expected. He paused for a moment as he watched the pair kiss, heart twinging, and gave Dimitri's cock a hard squeeze and stroke in the secret, vicious hope that he'd finish before Sylvain had to watch him fuck his partner.

But he knew how selfish that was; both men clearly needed this, so Sylvain slipped back into his seductive persona and guided Dimitri forward until the head of his cock was just inside Felix. Then he released the blonde's cock in favor of grabbing Felix's, not stroking, simply holding it.

Dimitri hissed out a quick breath of air at the hard squeeze to his engorged cock. His dark look over to Sylvain was interrupted by Felix’s soft kiss in return.

“Focus, Dima.”

Dimitri blinked in quick succession as fanning the disagreeable emotions away. As asked, his gaze instead, focused on the man in his arms and the narrowed, searching amber eyes that for once, weren’t behind a reflective visor; amber eyes he had long missed looking down into—that now, he looked up at with a familiar adoration.

“Yes, Felix.”

For his part, Felix looked on with a look of satisfaction at Dimitri’s immediate compliance. That look, however, was replaced by one of shock as his own length was grabbed and the simultaneous insertion of Dimitri’s cock. He moaned wantonly as he tightened his grip on the muscled shoulders in front of him as he sank down, piercing himself.

Sylvain, finding himself unable to bear watching another man enter his fiancé, averted his eyes and focused his gaze on the tip of Felix's shoulder until his vision began to blur. He kept the hand on Felix's cock perfectly still, his other coming up to gently stroke between his shoulder blades.

"How does it feel?" he murmured softly, this time to his partner instead of Dimitri; the time for goading and foreplay had long since passed. "Are you all right?" He placed a series of tender kisses to Felix's shoulder and gazed up at him adoringly.

That Sylvain wasn’t over his shoulder or against Dimitri giving him a simmering stare not only confused, but served to concern Felix. The soft questions of comfort and the gentleness that accompanied them were unexpected.

Felix was preoccupied with Sylvain’s strange behavior when Dimitri’s hands brought him down, fully seating him. Felix gasped loudly as he drew back to look at Dimitri’s face. Pale skin made red, blonde hair beginning to mat against his forehead, pearly white teeth biting into his plump lip, sweat beading at his muscled chest, falling down the hard swell of his pectorals; it was a good fucking look.

As Sylvain had been his first and only, Felix never had anything else to truly compare him to in a multitude of aspects…until today. And already with several observations and decisions made, even in his pleasure-addled brain, Felix was sure to save those for later.

“So good,” Felix moaned as he rolled his hips, feeling every inch of Dimitri’s cock inside of him. As the last syllable rolled off his tongue, Felix turned to Sylvain, capturing his head and awkwardly attempted to move him over so that he was squarely at his back as Dimitri swore, tilting his head down against Felix’s chest.

“I’ll be better if I feel you. Come here."

Rather than bratty, the demand that Felix made was one out of a sense of shared desperation. They needed to be together for this.

Sylvain lifted his eyes to take in the sight before him: Felix, dark hair damp and falling around his face and shoulders in a silky curtain, thick lashes fluttering, arching against and moving with the other man in a way that seemed so natural…

He gave a soft whimper at the pull and demand and, as if on cue, moved behind Felix on his knees. He spread his legs wide and resisted the urge to drag Felix back toward him, choosing instead to shuffle forward until his own cock was pressed firmly between his stomach and Felix's lower back.

Sweeping Felix's hair aside, Sylvain pressed his lips firmly to the nape of his neck and began their silent code once more. He wrapped both hands around Felix's cock, covering it completely, and began to pump in the exact rhythm he knew his partner liked, taking comfort in his secret knowledge.

"I've got you, Fe," he whispered as his kisses traveled up to the crook of Felix's shoulder.

Sylvain’s immediate move and weight pressed against Felix’s back was precisely what he wanted and what—he hoped—they needed.

Felix leaned his head back and against Sylvain’s in open-mouthed ecstasy as he felt the triple tap of their telltale sign. Felix sighed in contentment as he held Sylvain’s head steady against him. At the same time, he weaved his fingers through Dimitri’s hair wrenching back his head, catching his widened eye as he rose up and back down again in an even motion.

“Don’t make me do all the work.” Felix’s voice was breathy with just a hint of playfulness.

Dimitri groaned loudly, his voice reverberating in the room as the sharp tug to his roots nearly made him spill right then. He rolled his hips fluidly with Felix’s and Sylvain’s motions, his voice now as an undercurrent for them all. Smirking as he could, he snapped his hips up in two rapid thrusts, only the hint of maliciousness as he breathed out, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The force of Dimitri's thrust jolted Felix back against Sylvain and he moaned, pressing forward and tightening his grip.

"Do that again," he hissed, lifting his head from Felix's shoulder to fix Dimitri with a simmering gaze filled with a mixture of lust and contempt. "He liked it. So did I. Do it again."

Then he returned to showering every available inch of Felix's skin with kisses and sucks and little nips, murmuring to him all the while. Sylvain couldn't remember ever being confused about what to do during sex, but he was dancing dangerously close to it now. He thumbed over the tip of Felix's cock and tried to focus on the sounds of his partner's sweet moans and pants and ignore the man beneath them who was drawing them out.

Felix’s voice rang out in a high-pitched whine as he let go of Dimitri’s hair. He grabbed at the man in front of him, head bobbing as Dimitri shifted his hands at the swell of his thighs.

Over Felix’s shoulder, Dimitri caught Sylvain’s lust-blown gaze as he grit his teeth and repeated the motions. Two in rapid succession followed by three at a punishing pace, between the exquisite physical feel of Felix, his long awaited desire come to fruition, the disdain and desire that he felt when he looked at the man holding Felix, Dimitri was quickly approaching his limit.

Sandwiched between the two and being three steps past rammed into, Felix could neither lean forward nor lean back. He stayed upright, moaning in suspended pleasure as he mumbled incoherent praises: some general, others specific to the man at his front or back.

Sylvain planted one final, lingering kiss on Felix's skin before resting his chin on the shorter man's shoulder to fix Dimitri with a simmering gaze. The use of three thrusts instead of another two thoroughly pissed him off, as though the blonde were trying to stake his claim, and Sylvain responded with three of his own and a low moan at the friction.

"Come for us, Dima," he panted, biting into his lower lip in the most enticing way he knew how. He allowed his lashes to flutter at the pleasure and gripped Felix's cock tighter, now simultaneously rutting his own shamelessly against his back.

He already knew Dimitri was probably going to be a bastard and not pull out and he appeared to be close, so Sylvain wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

Seeing and feeling Felix and thrusting as hard as he was directed to, Dimitri was coming up to tipping over the edge fast. His movements were rapid and brutal as he held onto Felix like this would be the last opportunity to do so. And even here, balls deep in Felix—moaning wantonly, he knew it to be true. His harsh grip matched the manner in which he had held onto the fantasy of being with the young Fraldarius  ever again and it was coming to an end.

“Fe…Felix. I’m almost there. So good, so close…”

The novelty of a threesome had completely vanished from Felix’s mind. From the pleasurable pain of overstimulation, to the changing pace of both sets of thrusts, Felix was more than satisfied with this experience and fine checking this experience as a one off for a multitude of reasons. Chief among them was his now-active concern about Sylvain and maybe that he was experiencing a similar feeling.

Not wanting to prolong this any longer than needed, Felix slipped a hand to Sylvain’s at his cock and patted the familiar hand with an urgent collection of three taps. He then gripped at Dimitri, eyeing him with a lidded look that had yet to fail to elicit a reaction out of his fiancé as he stilled his motions.

“Let me finish you with my mouth, Dima.”

Immediately recognizing and taking minor comfort in their signal, Sylvain withdrew his hands. He sat back on his heels, stroking his cock at the same pace he'd been using on Felix's own. But he felt an icy shiver of dread run down his spine at Felix's request--spoken not as a timid request, but a demand,  as though he wanted it. He realized and regretted that they had utterly failed to address this particular act during their discussion, and then the unthinkable, the unspeakable, the unprecedented happened:

Sylvain Gautier went soft.

Chapter 86: Good Intentions

Summary:

All the while, Sylvain kept repeating to himself that it meant nothing, that it was just the one time...but it felt like a lie.

Chapter Text

Sylvain kept his hand where it was and stared at Dimitri in a near-glare, refusing to acknowledge what had happened. Not when his fiancé, the love of his life, had just taken another man's even larger cock into his mouth and was sucking away as if it were the only thing he ever wanted. He bit his lip and forced his gaze down to Felix's ass in hopes of distracting himself, only to remember exactly where that ass had been only seconds before.

Defeated, he placed a gentle hand on Felix's hip and began kissing his back.

With Felix’s demand, Dimitri was rendered speechless as he stood higher, his erection painfully at attention as Felix took him in hand and mouth. Closing his eye in ecstasy, Dimitri placed his hands on his hips and let Felix do as he pleased.

In theory, Felix’s practiced motions shouldn’t have felt different, but in practice, they were anything but. Having Dimitri inside him wasn’t an unpleasant experience, but as he was coming undone, the thought of him being filled by someone other than Sylvain was unsettling. Maybe at a later time Felix could consider the hypocrisy of it all, but right now, that was what made sense and what he acted upon.

Clambering down the bed, Felix was on his knees with wrapped hands around Dimitri’s length. Setting to work and showing what Sylvain had taught him, Felix swallowed his engorged length in tandem with his hands. Although far more gentle than needed, the touch to his hip was a calming agent as he worked.

When Dimitri opened his eye, all he saw was Sylvain glaring at him over Felix’s back, which upon closer inspection, might’ve had something to do with his flagging member. But Felix gagged, taking in more than he could handle, pulling off Dimitri’s cock at the least opportune time. Dimitri’s orgasm came over him in an instant. He cried out in a deep baritone pulsing as he painted Felix’s panting face.

Sylvain could only look on in a mixture of awe, nausea, and jealousy as he watched the man come harder, it seemed, than any human should be capable of. He jerked back just in time to see Felix taking the shot directly to his face and, seemingly, loving it. He reached around and gave Felix's cock three quick, rough strokes, pressing his lips hard to his shoulder with a low whimper.

All the while, Sylvain kept repeating to himself that it meant nothing, that it was just the one time...but it felt like a lie.

To say Felix was caught off guard by the load to his face was the understatement of the century. Blinking in stunned silence, Felix was shocked and reflexively licked at his lips tasting the bitterness that was Dimitri.

The blonde groaned as he stroked himself to completion, the last drop of come landing on Felix’s lip. He looked down at his face, admiring Felix’s sharp features covered with his essence as he tilted Felix’s head from side to side and then finally up at him as Dimitri wiped his thumb across Felix’s lip.

“Let me see you show some attention to your fiancé.”

The kisses to his back and Dimitri’s words served as a hard reset for Felix. Immediately, he turned around, pressing Sylvain onto his back as he wiped messily at his face.

“Sylvain?” Felix called out questioningly.

The way Dimitri seemed to be admiring his work did not help matters, and Sylvain reflexively drew back from the pair with a small hiccupping sound. He hastily covered his mouth, eyes going wide, and rolled halfway onto his side after he was pushed backward.

Felix had worried earlier about ruining the experience, but he was the one who'd done it. A sharp pang of self-loathing shot through him and he swallowed hard, then took one long, deep breath to steady himself.

"Fe," he answered, brows knitting together. Dimitri had missed a spot when he'd wiped Felix's face, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out and touch it--it'd make it too real. He made a subtle sweeping motion at the corner of his own mouth with his thumb, hoping Felix would take the hint.

Felix furrowed his brows at the foreign body language as he hovered over Sylvain. When he did finally look up, Felix mirrored his actions confused until he felt moisture, wiping furiously at the corner of his mouth.

Instinctually, Felix leaned down to kiss Sylvain but stopped just short of making contact before pressing back up; the hardness that he should’ve felt, expected to feel was noticeably missing.

Eyes wide, Felix made a small noise at the back of his throat. In that moment, Felix felt lower than low. Allowing for such a display had obviously affected him and it fell squarely on Felix’s onus. Instead of pressing down on Sylvain as he wanted, Felix lowered himself on his side, facing his fiancé.

“Can,” he began softly, “can I touch you?” All thought of the other man at the other end of the bed disappeared as he focused on Sylvain as he should’ve from the beginning.

Sylvain nodded, feeling slightly numb, and curled into Felix. The jealousy had all but evaporated now, replaced by a deep sense of shame--that he'd not only allowed but encouraged this, that he'd been unable to control his inevitable reactions, that he'd thoroughly ruined the experience. That Dimitri of all fucking people was the one seeing him like this.

"Please, Fe."

His voice came out a whisper and he closed his eyes, reaching out and curling his fingers around Felix's bicep. In the moment, all the buildup, all the desire, all the pleasure was forgotten. All he wanted was the warmth of Felix's skin, to lie close and listen to the sound of his breathing. To let Felix touch him, however he saw fit.

Already flagging under his own guilt, at the first sign of Sylvain’s consent, Felix moved closer. He embraced Sylvain, threading his arms through the crook of Sylvain’s neck, cradling his head under his chin. Felix’s lips were pressed hard into the crown of his head, hoping to impart safety and security, all things he had failed in communicating when it counted most.

Holding him tightly, chest to chest, Felix’s heart raced as his mind raced with how to right all his wrongs. Yet the only thing that he could think to do was hum the song that had been their guidance throughout. His lips buzzed as he hummed, focusing on bringing his Sylvain back.

Sylvain made an odd strangled sound in the back of his throat at the gentle, familiar touch, and he nuzzled, catlike, into Felix. He felt his own heartbeat begin to slow, falling into rhythm with Felix's as though his partner were a pace car...and perhaps, in that moment, he was.

"I'm here, Fe," he murmured in a low voice meant only for them. He wasn't sure whether or not Dimitri was still in the room with them, and he didn't give a fuck. He tightened his grip on Felix's arm and moved closer, pressing a delicate kiss to the base of his neck.

Felix’s fingers kneaded in a constant pattern, the slowing of Sylvain’s breath a balm to his own anxious heart.

“You’re here with me,” he repeated, whether or not that was meant to pacify himself or further aid Sylvain, he couldn’t tell. His eyes darted to the side as he felt the mattress lift seeing Dimitri’s form rise. The movement only served to cause Felix to hold closer to Sylvain and the gentle kiss he received at the base of his throat was a boon. Felix stretched his leg, intertwining with Sylvain’s, anything to be closer, to provide that all-encompassing contact imparting: You’re safe here, you’re not alone.

"I'm with you," Sylvain repeated. He felt the mattress lighten and his mood with it. Snuggling into Felix possessively, he draped an arm over his side to draw him in close.

It still hurt like hell but here in Felix's arms, the pain was starting to abate. He tipped his head up to capture his lips in a slow, gentle kiss as the world  started to feel okay again.

Felix’s lip trembled as he met Sylvain’s mouth with a tentative press. Not wanting to rush Sylvain or make him more uncomfortable as he had obviously done, Felix resisted the urge to deepen the scant touch. Though, the almost possessive clutch at his side did wonders.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he lifted his leg and hooked it at Sylvain’s waist. “I’m so sorry.”

"Why are you sorry?" Sylvain murmured back. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Fe."

None of them did; that it had ended this way was unfortunate, but even through his agony Sylvain knew that it was no one's fault. He placed his hand firmly against the side of Felix's thigh, holding it close to his body.

"I love you," he added simply, unsure what else to say.

“I love you back.” 

And he would for as long as Sylvain would let him.

With the firm grip at his side, Felix subconsciously canted his hips up, stuttering to a halt just as his semi-rigid length ground against Sylvain’s flaccid member. Felix swallowed the  urge to mutter ‘sorry’ as he squeezed Sylvain tighter. These were uncharted waters and Felix was lost at sea.

Contrary to Felix's timid stop-and-start, Sylvain found himself swiftly becoming very intrigued, though he had to admit that it was due less to their proximity than the simple fact that Felix had chosen to return to him. Even after taking a goddamn cumshot to the face from someone who Sylvain still, for all intents and purposes, hated. In fact, he decided, he wouldn't piss in Dimitri's mouth if his teeth were on fire.

But the sensation of Felix grinding on him made his own cock stir back to life and he pressed forward against Felix, grip on his thigh tightening until his fingertips dimpled the skin. Then he slid his hand up to give the smaller man's ass a firm squeeze, playfully nipping at his lip to show him that everything was, indeed, okay.

A small whimper was pulled from Felix’s throat that ended in a strangled gasp as Sylvain took his lip in between his teeth. There was no mistaking the firm grab at his cheek; this time when Felix dragged his hips forward, he did so with no hesitation.

He looked down at Sylvain, his dark lashes lowered, as he looked at his fiancé with more adoration than he would have ever imagined possible. Felix’s voice was soft and earnest as he undulated against him, his hardness slowly rocking against his muscled form. 

“More?”

"As much as you can give me, Fe. Or...as much as you want to."

Sylvain's voice was still uncharacteristically small and he looked at Felix with the wide eyes of a deer caught in a crossbow the moment it realizes it's thoroughly fucked. Then, without prompting, he began to rock back and forth with Felix, effortlessly matching his rhythm in a way he knew Dimitri, as much as he wanted to, never could.

Now fully hard against Felix's hip, Sylvain tightened his grip on his partner's ass, fingers splaying up to press in at the subtle dimple on his lower back. All the while, he kept his eyes on Felix's face, his expression slowly transforming from one of uncertainty to one of desire.

With the firmer grip at his cheek and lower back, Felix arched into Sylvain, pressing his ass well into his hand. As Felix had began his motions, Sylvain met and matched them seamlessly, serving to reinvigorate both parties. Yet, there was still one variable out of line. The soft, timid, fearful voice that addressed him didn’t match the confidence in which he moved. And while it didn’t surprise Felix that Sylvain’s body was the first to return to form, he wasn’t satisfied with just that.

Holding Sylvain close, Felix didn’t separate their bodies as he turned the both of them over, rolling Sylvain on top of him. Sylvain above him, Felix wrapped both legs, locking his ankles at his back.

“I want to give you my everything.” Felix’s amber eyes never wavered from Sylvain’s gaze. “And you already have it.” The pad of his thumb stroked Sylvain’s high cheekbone, “You have for a long time.”

Just like that, Sylvain's confidence returned. When he smiled down at Felix, his mouth curved at the corners in its usual mischievously seductive way and he leaned down to suckle at the other man's earlobe.

"And how do you want to give it, Fe?" he purred, taking immense comfort in the fact that he smelled like Felix, his Felix, with no trace of Dimitri whatsoever. He drew back his hand and gave his fiancé's ass an experimental slap as he rutted his hips forward, grinding their cocks between them.

How they were able to blend everything so effortlessly never ceased to amaze Sylvain, and he never wanted it to. He trailed kisses down to the sharp angle of Felix's jaw, licking and nipping and contemplating just how lucky he was all the while.

Felix’s fingers threaded contentedly through his thick auburn mop as he descended over him, his Sylvain. From somewhere far away, Felix heard the gentle opening and shutting of a metal cabin door.

Turning his head, he held Sylvain carefully and close as he moved down his body. At this moment, Felix was content to have Sylvain cover every inch of his body, to mark him up, do whatever it was that Sylvain needed. Felix moaned out as the sting at his assuredly red cheek mellowed to prickly tingles.

“I want to give it like only a fiancé can.” Felix moved his hand to the side, pointedly admiring and speaking at the burnished crimson band; a coy smile played at the corner of his lips.

"Then do it," Sylvain whispered as he dipped his head to kiss the smooth metal band, warm from Felix's finger. He smiled softly against his hand and when he looked up again, his gaze was a mixture of simmering and sincere.

After gazing up into his fiancé's face for a long moment, Sylvain once again tightened his grip on Felix and began to slowly grind their hips together, mouth dropping open in an o of pleasure.

“Make me.” Felix grinned coquettishly as he replaced his hand, returning the crimson ring to the fiery forest of strands it was forged for.

Felix pressed his head back with a soft groan of pleasure at the expert roll of Sylvain’s hips. Felix mirrored his motions as they fell into their natural cadence. His hands kept his fiancé close, guiding Sylvain’s perfect open mouth to a languid kiss, fraught with emotion.

The challenge lit a fire in Sylvain that had been completely snuffed out only moments before. He slipped a hand between Felix's legs and probed gently at his hole, trying to focus on the fact that he was the one to stretch his fiancé out and not Dimitri.

"What do you want me to make you do?" Sylvain purred, leaning into the hand now buried in his hair. He reached up to grip Felix's jaw firmly, a small smirk on his lips as he looked down into his eyes. "All you have to do is ask, Fe."

The initial stretch at his entrance took Felix by surprise as his eyes grew wide, automatically grinding down to facilitate Sylvain’s fingers. The firm grip to his jaw pulled a feral grunt from Felix as he looked up at his fiancé with a mixture of lust and adoration.

“Make me come.” Felix lidded his eyes, giving Sylvain a simmering gaze, sincerity just underneath the surface, “Like only you can.”

Sylvain whined low in his throat and thrust his hips against Felix's once. It occurred to him that the balance was mildly unfair--even Dimitri had gotten off, while Sylvain himself was still high and dry.

But hopefully not for long, he thought to himself with a wicked little grin as he slid his index finger into his fiancé up to the last knuckle, groaning at the pressure and grateful that no trace of the blonde had been left behind.

"Fuck, you're still tight," he murmured, returning Felix's gaze.

A high-pitch whimper tore from Felix’s throat at the sudden intrusion followed by a greedy grind of his hips, searching for more. Felix dug his fingernails down, pressing red half moons into the skin at Sylvain’s tanned back.

“I told you,” he began, already panting hard, “you’ve made me into the shape of you, of course I’d still be tight for you.” There was an unmistakable tone of petulance within his voice that Felix despised. But in the moment? He was powerless to alter it.

There was a feeling of incredulousness that Felix couldn’t shake. He had just had Dimitri in him for a short time…what if it had been longer? But what if there had been a difference? Would Sylvain be through with and abandon him as used goods?

As if sensing Felix's discomfort, Sylvain captured his lips in a brief but gentle kiss before drawing back to look deep into his eyes. One finger became two, and his smile softened to something familiar and comforting.

"You'll always be perfect for me," he purred. "No matter what. Now tell me when you're ready..."

Sylvain began to gently scissor his fingers, preparing Felix with the same reverence he'd shown before. He rutted his own aching cock down against Felix's with a low whine, then curled his fingers by rote memory in the way he knew Felix liked--but Dimitri had not, he thought smugly to himself.

Felix whimpered out, unsure if it was from the perfect curl of his fingers or the palliative reassurances he received. Felix rocked against him as his toes curled with Sylvain’s pointed presses. He was a man of passions, as was Felix, but somehow, he was at his gentlest when it came to the matters of his heart.

“Now,” he whined, “I need you now, inside me, Sylvain.”

Felix looked up from furrowed brows under long, dark lashes. His eyes were wide and glassy, unclear of when tears had first appeared. He ran his hands reverently over Sylvain’s form, in awe of the man.

Sylvain responded with a whimper of his own as he gently spread Felix's legs and slid deep inside him, passage eased by the copious amounts of lube they'd used earlier. Another whimper tore free of his throat once he was fully seated and gazing down into Felix's eyes, feeling his own well up with unshed tears.

"I've got you," he whispered, reaching up with a shaking hand to thumb at the corner of Felix's eye and brush delicately at his damp lashes. Then he began to move, slowly and steadily, nothing like the frantic pace at which Felix had been taken before. As they had so many times before, they took each other apart and would put each other back together again.

Felix smiled and nodded; he did have him well in hand. The tears that fell were immediately wiped to the side by the gentle pass of Sylvain’s pad. Felix let out a choked gasp as he was finally entered. His arms immediately grasping around Sylvain’s torso holding him close as he began his slow and sensuous rock.

With every thrust, Felix let out moans of pleasure mixed with soft affirmations, breathy coaxes, and sincere calls of affection with every iteration of Sylvain’s name in his register.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Sylvain groaned, though he managed to restrain himself and kept to the pace they'd set together, collaborating as with everything else.

He leaned in close and showered Felix's tear-stained cheeks with tiny pecks as he gave three hard thrusts, determined to erase any memories of Dimitri from his fiancé's mind. With a soft sigh, Sylvain dropped his head to nibble at the shell of Felix's ear and whisper softly to him, all the while undulating his hips against the other man's.

"Are you mine, Fe?"

This is what he wanted. And even after experiencing another and finding it not even close to being wholly unpleasant, this right here? Sylvain inside, over, and against him, this was what he longed for, this is what would satisfy Felix.

Felix moaned wantonly, his voice rising sharply at the triple thrusts. He shuddered violently through his whole body at the lips at his sensitive ear. But nothing produced quite the desperate call like Sylvain’s heated question.

“Yes,” he whispered softly, body extending with his motions. “I’m yours and only yours, Sylvain.” Felix held him closer leaving a small set of three kisses at the juncture of Sylvain’s jaw. “I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, no one else’s.” 

And Felix would do his damnedest to ensure that it had no expiration date.

Sylvain, well past the point of desperation and dizzyingly hard, gripped Felix tighter and whined at the kisses. Their code never failed to reassure him, and he found immense comfort in the knowledge that no one could ever take it from them.

"Fe... my Fe," Sylvain panted, skin flushed from exertion and gleaming in the low light. He wrapped his arms fully around Felix's torso and a few thrusts later he was crying out against Felix's neck as he came hard and deep inside him.

Whenever they came together, sex with Sylvain was always amazing. But this, the desperate possessiveness of his movements and of his voice touched Felix’s very soul. To every call of his name, Felix answered with a reciprocal Sylvain or yours as he clung to Sylvain moving at a feverish pace.

Felix hadn’t realized he had come again with the mess between their torsos, but had instead devoted all his attention to his lover. Sylvain’s breath was ragged as Felix held him close in a vice grip, keeping him against his neck as he focused on the full sensation he had missed and wanted—only from Sylvain. Felix offered him hums of affirmation and contentment and they rocked against each other with the last pulses of effort.

Sylvain's moans broke off into a soft gasp as he felt Felix release between them with a rush of pride--despite Dimitri's punishing pace, he had been the one to get Felix off by fucking him, and the thought was more than comforting. He clung tightly to Felix, peppering the side of his neck with a series of tiny kisses in triplets.

"Love you," he murmured, finally stilling his motions and rolling onto his side to cuddle Felix close to his chest, mess and all. “So fucking much, Fe. And nothing will ever change that. Ever."

As painful as it had been to watch Felix and Dimitri together, Sylvain realized it had ultimately been for the greater good. His partner had, as always, come back to him in the end. He dragged a hand lazily through Felix's hair, smoothing it away from his face, and kissed his cheek where some of the glitter had drifted down.

Pulled into his grasp, Felix moved easily with Sylvain, wrapped in each other’s arms. As if on instinct, Felix nosed and nuzzled into the peppering of Sylvain’s kisses, murmuring his affections in return.

“Love you back.” His words sounded paltry in the face of Sylvain’s declarations, but there they were nonetheless. It was through Sylvain’s deft hand and gentle guidance that Felix understood that that was okay. That he wasn’t long-winded with flowery prose was fine with Sylvain; he was Sylvain’s chosen person and that was enough.

“I’m with you,” Felix intoned as his heart rate began to even out, gazing into Sylvain’s beguiling golden eyes. “You’re not getting rid of me now.”

Chapter 87: The Margrave

Summary:

Margrave approached the pair with heavy, purposeful steps, face contorted in its usual permanent scowl. He grabbed Sylvain roughly by the arm and glared down at Felix. After taking a moment to ensure that his presence was adequately felt by both men, he boomed a single word.

"Explain."

Chapter Text

Margrave Gautier appeared in the jaeger hangar like a veritable storm cloud, temper already flaring. He'd been in a foul mood since receiving the call from Miklan two weeks ago, which was worsened by the fact that he'd been unable to get to the base sooner; apparently, his younger son was equally good-for-nothing and had been sticking his dick in not just the Fraldarius runt but a Blaiddyd. At the same time.

'I saw Dimitri sneaking out of the room, Father. But before that...damn, you have no idea what Sylvie's been getting up to, do you?'

The side of Margrave's lip curled upward in an ugly sneer and he stalked over to a banged-up old Mark-3, its once-brilliant green paint now faded to the color of winter grass. As if on cue, his worthless son stepped from the cockpit, brushing sweaty hair out of his eyes. He watched as Sylvain extended a hand to the younger Fraldarius--the only one still alive--to help him down the stairs, and his ire intensified. But he chose to wait to be noticed rather than approaching; he knew his oppressive presence would be felt soon enough.

Felix took Sylvain’s hand as he would take another step, natural, one foot in front of the other—what should’ve been hand in unlovable hand—was anything but. Being reinstated with his original partner had been a shocking turn of events for Felix, but one he was eternally grateful for.

Things didn't necessarily go back to normal between Dima and himself, but a new level of their relationship had been achieved. There was a respect that was now formalized, forged in the fires of young love that had tempered into a grown understanding. What came of this, however, was a petition of reinstatement. A petition that was filled and then locked behind bureaucratic red tape without transparency. But much to their surprise, their petition, supported their proven performances, sworn testimonies of character witnesses: Pilots Blaiddyd and Arnault, along with a surprising recommendation from Captain Hresvelg, was approved within the week.

Already, Felix and Sylvain had attended retesting and drills to ensure the neuro-handshake was still operable between the two. And somehow, to the chagrin of any doubting members of the board, their results were even higher with a non-quantitative result of error. And after their first mission back, successfully felling a category three kaiju with no losses, Felix was again proven wrong: They don’t make mistakes. And damnit, he was a believer now.

Stepping along the grates as he removed his helmet, something struck Felix as odd. Usually, crew and technicians were busy milling about on the bridge, but now? They all seem sequestered to the sides, nearly part of the machines or the walls themselves. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“I wasn’t expecting a welcome wagon, but, do we have an audit or something? Why is no one just out?”

Sylvain glanced around the bay curiously, wondering the exact same thing. He shrugged indifferently, though his posture stiffened the moment he turned to his 5:00 and saw his father's looming figure.

Margrave approached the pair with heavy, purposeful steps, face contorted in its usual permanent scowl. He grabbed Sylvain roughly by the arm and glared down at Felix. After taking a moment to ensure that his presence was adequately felt by both men, he boomed a single word.

"Explain."

If Felix was immediately on guard at the large man’s approach, then he was ready to rip his throat out when he roughly grabbed Sylvain.

In a flash, Felix stepped between the two, his hands immediately going to his wrist and Sylvain’s arm. He stood to his entire height, still more than a head shorter than the interloper he had only seen in the Drift with Sylvain, not deterred in the slightest. Felix met his glare, practically spitting venom.

“We can talk without you touching my copilot.” Leaning over his left boot with his hidden knife, Felix’s voice rumbled into a vitriolic hiss. “Unhand my Sylvain. Now.”

Margrave's scowl twisted into an ugly mockery of a smile and he flexed his fingers around Sylvain's bicep before releasing him--not because of the command, but because of how utterly disgusted he felt by his own flesh and blood.

"Fraldarius," he said, voice stern. "You and my son. Explain."

Sylvain shifted from foot to foot nervously, unable to keep his gaze on anything for too long. He found himself splitting his attention between Felix and his father, anxious hazel eyes darting back and forth between the pair. He wasn't sure exactly how this would go down, but he knew it wouldn't be good.

“What do you need explained, Margrave?” 

Still keeping himself squarely between the two, Felix stepped back, further separating himself and Sylvain from the man.

“Our leading Drift compatibility? Our sterling record for on-site dispatches and confirmed kills? Our engagement? Which one?” Were they not already tense with an even more dangerous air about them, Felix’s tone might have been missed as something genuine.

“Or is there something else you need spelled out?” 

Now, however, there was absolutely no mistaking the vicious relish Felix took in the syllables that tumbled from his throat.

Sylvain tensed at his fiancé's hostile tone and inched closer to him, mentally curling inward on himself like a small, frightened child. He placed his hand on Felix's lower back in hopes of calming both of them, but he already knew that once Felix got going, he wouldn't stop until something stopped him.

Margrave looked stunned for a second, then laughed, the sound ringing harshly in the air. For a moment, he almost respected the small man.

Almost.

"All of those, but perhaps we can start with the fact that my son has made you his whore. And brought someone else into it."

When he'd found out, Margrave had damn near had a stroke and dropped the phone, practically apoplectic with rage. And now, looking down into the defiant, sharp-featured face, he felt the blood rising to his own. He clenched his hand into a fist at his side and smiled dangerously.

"I wonder how long you two thought you could keep this a secret," he mused aloud, eyes narrowed to slits as he surveyed the pair.

Felix’s eyes widened at the derisive laughter and the man’s choice phrasing. He was mad at Sylvain for…bedding a Fraldarius and then pissed off that there was another person? All to then be pissed that it wasn’t a secret?

No one else around the base had spoken nor even hinted about their tryst—and with a base simply primed and waiting  for something juicy, if it was known, it would be known. This then led Felix to believe that the information was funneled somehow directly to him…which didn’t take long to surmise how or who leaked their goings-on.

“So?” Felix’s expression was open in his confusion of the man’s rage. “What business is it of yours with who your son chooses to engage with?”

Sylvain made a strangled whimper at Felix's defiant words as a sharp stab of anxiety radiated through his entire body. He bit into his lip and glanced sideways at his father with wide eyes but remained silent.

Margrave, for his part, continued to glower at the pair.

"I'm surprised you're even asking," he said, and genuinely looked it. "Tell him, Sylvain. Tell him why it matters."

Sylvain blanched and stiffened, swallowing hard before he responded.

"Fe, my father is a majority shareholder in the jaeger project." 

His voice was a husk.

"That's right, Sylvain," Margrave responded, giving his son a patronizing pat on the shoulder. "Which means there are standards. Decorum. Neither of which, unfortunately, you have, and therein lies the problem."

He fell silent again, choosing to let his looming presence take over where his words left off.

Felix’s countenance wavered momentarily at the reluctant tone Sylvain choked out. His heart ached to hear him so clearly affected by the beast of a man—the observation of which made Felix’s blood boil.

With a raised brow, Felix’s gaze spanned between the two men, taking them in. Standing next to his behemoth of a father, Sylvain looked downright wiry. Margrave Gautier was bulk personified. Standing eye to eye with Sylvain, the man had biceps that were damn near the size of Felix’s thighs. All their features were shared in the broadest of senses. It was as if all of Sylvain had been morphed, made to look mean, cruel, and unforgiving.

“And as a majority shareholder,” Felix continued, blatant recalcitrance in his voice, ”you are invested in who one of the program’s highest ranked and valued assets sleeps with? Where can I see the meeting minutes where last you and your fellow members inquired about the sex lives of the jaeger pilots?”

If Sylvain thought he couldn't go any paler, he was mistaken. His entire body felt cold, lips going numb as he watched Felix stand up to his father in a way that made him feel pathetic; he'd had decades himself to say these very same things, and yet his partner was saying them upon their very first meeting.

"I don't care who's fucking whom," Margrave said with a dismissive, irritated wave of his hand. "What I care about is your intent to become a Gautier, Pilot Fraldarius.”

There had been no love lost between Margrave and Rodrigue from the moment they met. Fraldarius seemed a competent enough pilot, as did his son. But it was his son that was the entire problem. Margrave felt an intense headache coming on as history began to repeat itself.

"The last thing we need is another fucking Fraldarius," he muttered to himself, lost in thought.

Rather than be irritated with the dismissive attitude Margrave had, apparently, perfected, a coolness came over Felix when his words registered.

“I have absolutely zero desire to ever become a Gautier, Mr. Shareholder.” Felix didn’t stop the wrinkle that came so easily to his nose. “Of that I can promise you.” 

No, he had heard and seen enough of what came with that name from Sylvain and the Drift to last him a lifetime. 

For as open and blunt as he wanted to be with the man, he could take the brunt of his ire. But the second something could be placed on Sylvain? That was the line where Felix curtailed his sharp tongue.

The absolute lip on Rodrigue's runt astounded Margrave and he looked at Sylvain incredulously, as if to say, Why don't you have your bitch under control? But the expression of surprise was quickly replaced by his usual stern mask and he cleared his throat.

"This is neither the time nor place to discuss this. We'll have dinner. I expect you to be there-- both of you. You'll get details later. I have other things to attend to."

After shooting his son a final dirty look, he stalked away, leaving Sylvain huddled against Felix like a frightened child.

The youngest Gautier exhaled so long and hard that he felt as though his entire body were deflating. The hand he'd tentatively pressed to his partner's back slid and Sylvain wrapped both arms fully around him, clinging to him for comfort and shaking lightly even after the older man had vanished from sight.

Felix glared at the large man’s retreating figure until he turned out of his line of sight. Automatically, he let out a breath he had unintentionally been holding as he was pulled into Sylvain’s tight embrace.

“Hey,” he whispered urgently at the first indication that the tremors he felt were not due to a singular shiver.

“You with me?”

"Yeah...yeah, Fe, I'm with you."

Sylvain's voice was still shaky and uncertain and he clutched Felix tighter, not caring that they were in public. He held on until the tremors subsided, then gradually loosened his grip and stepped in front of his fiancé to look into his eyes, his own full of concern.

"Are you okay?"

How someone could look so scared themselves but show dire concern for another…it boggled the mind. Sylvain, only moments ago shaking like a leaf, was now in front of Felix, pleading for him to be the one unscathed. Felix grabbed and raised Sylvain’s hands bringing them to his lips. Never leaving Sylvain’s deep gaze, Felix pressed a kiss to his large hands.

“I am fine.” He looked at Sylvain imploringly. “I want to know about you though. And it’s okay not to be okay.”

Felix pressed his hands with their unspoken code hoping to impart the comfort he couldn’t hope to convey through his words.

Sylvain closed his eyes, grounding himself in the sensation of Felix's soft, plush lips pressing against his skin. He inhaled deeply and gave a long, shuddering sigh. When he opened his eyes again, they were clear and concerned.

"I'm not okay. Never have been. And I'm fine with that, because I feel okay when you're here."Which definitely wasn't healthy, but it was all he had. Sylvain tipped Felix's chin up to replace his hands with his own lips in the softest, tenderest kiss he'd ever given in his life.

Chapter 88: Shower Thoughts

Summary:

He gathered Felix's sodden hair gently in his hands and squeezed the water out, careful not to pull or tangle it. Then, he bumped his nose against Felix's and grinned.

"Tomorrow then."

Chapter Text

Once inside, at the steel lockers, Felix stopped Sylvain and stepped around him lightly as he began undressing him. Beginning with unhooking the high clasp at the back of his neck, Felix unfastened the rest down his back.

It was clear that his fiancé was clearly preoccupied and shaken from the interaction with Margrave and Felix had yet to discern what was the right thing to say. Never strong with his words, he felt utterly useless in the moment not being able to help Sylvain. Staring at the peek of skin he had drawn back, he did the only thing he could to try and impart his support. Leaning forward, Felix trailed small kisses down the uncovered skin, his breath ghosting over clusters of freckles and silvered over scars as he continued undressing Sylvain.

Sylvain responded to each tender touch with shivers and sighs, letting his eyes slip shut and his head loll forward. He reached out with hands that were no longer trembling to hold Felix's shoulders, stroking his thumbs across pale skin and hard muscle.

"He can't do shit, you know," he began in a low voice. "Margrave, I mean. He's all bark and no bite. I mean, scary as hell, but..."

Sylvain no longer felt weak admitting that his own father was terrifying--everyone thought so, as far as he knew. Even his own mother, to the point where she'd rented herself a beach cottage under the guise of 'taking a few days for herself here and there' but ended up living there damn near full-time.

He stepped closer until they were pressed firmly together and he could feel the thrumming of Felix's heart against his own chest.

“He can’t do shit,” Felix echoed, underscoring Sylvain’s own words. That the sentiment came from Sylvain was a relief to hear, but the reiteration of fact was paramount to solidify the idea in his mind.

Felix nodded and pressed up against Sylvain as he pulled down the suit. Turning the sleeves inside out, the top portion hung loosely peeled at Sylvain’s waist. Felix pulled close again, rapid heart against rapid heart as he looked up and thumbed at Sylvain’s cheek.

“You have me now. Pound per pound, I’m scarier.”

"You are," Sylvain chuckled. "You're absolutely terrifying. I think there was a second where you actually might've shaken him up a little. It was incredible. And hot."

He slid his hands up the sides of Felix's neck and around to the back to begin unfastening his fiancé's drivesuit, realizing that he was being terribly rude. Once he had it open, he pulled the suit down to Felix's waist, taking his time and admiring the other's body.

Felix gave a smile that was more teeth than anything. Something feral and prideful rose in Felix at Sylvain’s comment. Margrave Gautier. Asshole in reputation fucking awful in person. And to know that he might’ve gotten under his skin? Priceless.

Standing compliantly when Sylvain’s hands went to his own suit, Felix let out a small sigh. He would never tire of the reverent way Sylvain watched him—as if he were something special, something priceless.

Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain’s middle in a tight hug before kneeling and lowering them to the floor, raising his feet out one at a time. Of their passions, there was a clear reverence Felix felt with Sylvain that was unlike anything he had felt previously or since.

Sylvain went easily to the floor with his fiancé, wriggling out of the last bits of his suit and similarly divesting Felix of his. He wound his arms tightly around the smaller man and pulled him into his lap, holding him close to his chest.

"I would've hated to be him," Sylvain continued. "Man, I remember when we first got paired together, and then found out we shared a wall. I slept with one eye open for, like, the first three nights."

He dipped his head to speckle Felix's face with quick, light kisses and an adoring sigh.

Turning into Sylvain’s kisses, Felix squinted as he felt a budding happiness well up within him. Like this, they could do anything. Together, they were in love and  unstoppable. Whatever Margrave was after, they wouldn’t give him the fucking satisfaction. Overwhelmed in the moment, Felix curled around Sylvain in his lap.

“I’m sorry to have made you feel like that.” He hid his head in the crook of Sylvain’s shoulder, “thanks for giving me a chance.”

Something about Felix's shy, careful tone and the way he curled into him broke Sylvain's heart. He made a wordless, soothing sound low in his throat and tugged Felix's hair loose of its tie to begin combing his fingers through it, nails scratching gently against his scalp.

"Thanks for giving me a chance. Like Dima said, my reputation definitely precedes me...and I know it's not a stellar one. But hey, like I said--they don't make mistakes, Fe. Well, except for when they split us up, but they fucked around and found out for sure."

Sylvain shifted to better cradle Felix in his arms and lap, fully engulfing his partner in his embrace.

Letting himself be moved by Sylvain had never served him wrong before. And like this? Felix was loath to change that. Wrapped around Sylvain, he was the one meant to show strength and control in the situation, yet here Sylvain was once again, doing all the heavy lifting.

“They don’t make mistakes,” he echoed, breathing into the crook of his neck, somehow getting even closer, widening his thighs around Sylvain.

“Still haven’t if you ask me.” He gave a quick pulse before leaning back.

“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up. I want you all to myself.” 

Without letting go of Felix, Sylvain stood and moved toward one of the showers, cupping Felix's hands in his ass to hold him up. 

"Help me out and give us a reach around?" he joked, nodding in the direction of the tap. 

Sylvain remembered how awkward he'd felt when he first arrived for recruitment; being observed was nothing new, especially being observed naked, but his father's terrifying reputation had preceded him and made the other recruits even more curious. The looks, he could deal with just fine. It was the comments, the way every other shower in the room was vacant and yet the one directly beside him always seemed to magically end up occupied.

"Love you, Fe," he murmured, planting a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead to dispel the memory.

When Sylvain looked like that, where his mind’s eye went was anyone’s guess. But when he looked elsewhere, those hazel eyes guarded everything. In the end, all Felix could do was be there when he returned as he always would.

“I love you back, Sylvain Fraldarius.” He let the pointed name roll off his tongue and he turned the knob of the shower. A spike of cold, splash of hot, finally mellowing to a comforting warmth, the water fell around them as Felix squeezed Sylvain tighter yet.

“And you know I don’t lie.”

Sylvain melted into Felix at the comforting sound of his new name, and he nodded against Felix's forehead before planting three tiny kisses there. 

"Fuck, that's cold," he hissed under his breath at the initial stream of water, though his muscles quickly relaxed and he sighed deep and long. "Woke me up a little, though. But I might need to be warmed up..."

“Oh?” Still higher and held, Felix questioned, looking down at Sylvain as a smile curled at his lips.

“I thought you were the one that ran hot?” Felix nosed at Sylvain, bumping his lips and nose and cheek against his face as water cascaded around them.

“I have some blankets back at my quarters.” Felix slid off Sylvain, standing in front of him. “Maybe we could see if that’s do the trick.” 

Sylvain scratched short, blunt nails through Felix's hair, gently untangling it as he went. Such small acts of tender care and affection no longer felt strange or uncomfortable to him; if anything, doting on Felix in even the most minor ways was a comfort--perhaps the only one.

"Too bad we don't have a TV in your room, or we could have a movie night while we snuggle. Maybe even a pillow fight...piss off the neighbors."

Sylvain had barely been in his own room lately; even most of his clothing had migrated over to Felix's, and he liked it. He wondered how long it would take before another cadet was assigned, and didn't particularly care...as long as they were okay with more than a bit of noise.

Felix leaned into the dull scratches as he looked up dreamily at Sylvain. How he had managed to find himself like this, skin to skin and absolutely love drunk with his copilot…Felix couldn’t have retraced the trajectory if he tried.

“You’re my neighbor. Have I pissed you off enough?” The question rolled off his tongue as he grabbed the soap and began working sudsy circles into Sylvain’s back.

"At first, a little, I guess," Sylvain admitted sheepishly, leaning into Felix's soft touch with a satisfied groan. "But then I decided it'd be way more fun to actually fuck you than fuck with you, and then you touched my wrist in the dining hall, and the rest is history."

He reached behind him with one awkward arm to stroke at Felix's lower back, kneading into the tense muscle as best he could given their current positioning. Craning his neck to look over his shoulder at the shorter man, he flashed a fond smile.

"If I've said it once, Fe, I've said it a million times: they don't make mistakes. And I'm glad."

“Is that it?” Felix cast his eyes down, his eyes falling on Sylvain’s wrist before picking it up and holding it, patting his hand.

“What about now,” he drawled out. Is that all that it would take?” Hair plastered down at his face, Felix’s hands roved the soft expanse of Sylvain’s wrists.

“Would you choose to come with me again?”

The image of that moment in the dining hall came instantly flooding back and Sylvain closed his eyes with a satisfied sound that bordered on a purr. He turned his wrist in Felix's grip, both to feel the familiar touch and to press his thrumming pulse to Felix's palm.

"Not even that," he answered with some difficulty, swallowing hard. "But...are you saying I'm easy?"

Sylvain’s purr was expected, though when his tone changed, Felix’s ears rang as the discordant stream of water splashed around them. Felix swallowed dryly as he tried to will his words forth.

“Only for me and even then, I won’t ever stop working hard for you.”

He spoke quickly, his pulse rising rapidly.

"I was just playing around, Fe."

Something had changed in his fiancé's voice, and Sylvain didn't like it. He turned to face the shorter man and planted his hands firmly on his shoulders, kneading catlike into the muscles there.

"Only for you, ever," Sylvain clarified, his gaze turning from anxious to warm once more. "And I promise to keep working just as hard for you as you do for me, okay? Even though you don't have to work at all, hard or otherwise."

The look of relief that flooded Felix’s face was no small thing. Features rounding, breath released, stature buckling, he was a man without worry…but not without shame.

From the switch came a pout. Lower lip jut out, eyes narrowed, Felix peered up at Sylvain with puffed cheeks.

“I’ll work how and however hard if I want to.” Felix spoke pointedly as he lathered Sylvain’s chest. “And that’s especially for you.” 

"Heh, almost sounds like you want to make this s competition to see who can work harder," he responded, capping off his innuendo with his trademark wink. "But Fe, you're it for me. I've got you, and I won't let go until you say when.”

Sylvain leaned his head back with a low groan as his fiancé's skillful hands wandered across muscles that had already been sore after their drill, but had grown exponentially tenser since they'd encountered his father in the jaeger bay,

Hearing the appreciative groan, Felix worked his fingers more intently, this becoming more purposeful massage than wash. He moved his hands up through the suds, creating over Sylvain’s powerful shoulders that were clenched and bound in the stress of the day.

“No competition there,” Felix chided as he shook his head, his eyes darting to water trailing down over his pec to his built abdomen below.

“You’re not going to hear me say that.”

Sylvain felt Felix's eyes on his body before he actually looked down and caught sight of it for himself. He stood entranced for a moment, lips slightly parted, then closed the gap between them and sealed their abdomens together.

"Why waste soap and water?" he purred cheekily in Felix's ear. "Times is hard, or something like that."

In truth, there had been whispers of a concerning uptick in Kaiju activity and it seemed a natural consequence that there would soon be strings cut any and everywhere. But for the moment, it was nothing more than a convenient excuse to get as close to the one person he loved as he possibly could.

The press of Sylvain’s solid muscles against his own smaller form was a sensation Felix had long come to equate with comfort and security. Paying no mind to the cheeky comment, he held on close, feeling the water rush away from them, falling down their sides.

“I missed piloting with you.” Felix spoke just over the crash of water against the tiles as he bowed and leaned his forehead against Sylvain’s shoulder, “We’re partners and that’s what’s right.”

"You're goddamn right about that, Fe," Sylvain murmured soothingly, even as unwelcome flashes of his father's visit flashed through his mind. He held tighter to his partner and pressed his cheek to Felix's wet hair, closing his eyes as the water gently washed over them.

After a long, pensive moment, he finally spoke again.

"So...when's the wedding?"

Since the whole fucking family's here, and all went unsaid.

“You tell me.” Since you’re my whole family went unsaid. Felix had murmured his response immediately within Sylvain’s all-encompassing embrace before raising his head, meeting Sylvain’s gaze.

“You tell me when,” he repeated with zero levity. “I’m ready.” It was a simple truth that somehow bore into his consciousness, now an inconvertible truth that was of no question to Felix.

"How about right now?" Sylvain half-teased. "I mean, it wouldn't be official, but we already basically live together and are, you know, madly in love with each other."

His heart began to race at the thought, thudding against Felix's chest. He'd never expected to get married--at least, not to anyone he liked, let alone loved. Sylvain craned his neck back to look down at his fiancé's face, eyes full of warmth.

The thud against his chest was palpable as he looked up at his Sylvain. Water at the back of his head, Felix raised his hands along his fiancé’s side, a fond smile curling at his lips.

“How about tomorrow?” As Felix watched Sylvain for a reaction, he figured the shower spray would mask the glassy sheen of his eyes.

"Tomorrow it is," Sylvain responded as all the air left his lungs at once. "We won't need to bother inviting anyone--pretty sure they'll all be hanging around anyway, after how wild our bachelor party got."

He gathered Felix's sodden hair gently in his hands and squeezed the water out, careful not to pull or tangle it. Then, he bumped his nose against Felix's and grinned.

"Tomorrow then."

Felix leaned forward facilitating Sylvain's grasp as he padded the suds off their bodies. The smile that curled at his lips was clear and unabating.

"How many other weddings do you think there'll be coming up?"

"At least two?" Felix left the statement as a question. He had no idea what things were like or planned, if anything, for either Dorothea and Edelgard or Ignatz and Raphael. But from what he had seen, the wistful looks the two women shared, the secret smiles Ignatz unsuccessfully tried to hide...with what Felix now felt with Sylvain, why should they be the only ones reveling in each other?

"Sure hope so," Sylvain murmured in response; even though he'd been nearly blackout-drunk at their bachelor party, he hadn't missed the exchanges of glances between several pairs of their fellow cadets. "It's nice to see something good coming out of all...this."

He reached behind Felix with a smile to turn off the tap, then enfolded his fiancé in his arms to keep him warm as he shuffled them toward their towels.

"Anyway, we can probably pull some strings with Linhardt to get halfway-decent food to celebrate, and I'm sure people will bring more of that bootleg shit that passes for alcohol these days. Any dress code?"

The two shuffled closely to wrap themselves in the large, scratchy towels. Regarding Linhardt, Felix shrugged his shoulders, "If you think we could swing it, sure. Do you think he'd officiate it?" Felix didn't know how many officiants there were on the base, but the one he knew had at least put up with a portion of their antics previously. What was one more?

"No dress code." Felix shook his head. "I want to marry you. I don't care who or who isn't there. To hell if I'll care what they're wearing to our ceremony." 

The emphasis he used surprised even Felix, biting back his own lip after the offending gusto had already been given life to.

Chapter 89: Dinner with Destiny

Summary:

Sylvain grabbed Felix's hand and linked their fingers together as he pulled him out the door and down the hallway, moving at a brisk pace toward the private quarters his father had temporarily commandeered. He gave Felix a weak smile before leading him inside, where he was surprised by the sight of Margrave looking...almost happy. Or at least, scowling less than usual.

Chapter Text

"So, do we poison him, or...?"

Sylvain was only half-joking as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair in the scratched-up mirror, lamenting the fact that he hadn't owned a comb in years. He'd thought about 'dressing for dinner' per his father's standards, but decided that since he was going to stage the biggest Fuck You in Gautier history, he might as well go full-on against the grain.

He tugged at the hem of his far-too-tight shirt, lovingly pilfered from Felix's closet, and turned to face the shorter man with spread arms and a broad grin on his face.

"How do I look?"

Felix sat behind Sylvain on his bed as he laced up his boots. They had showered and returned to their quarters with the desire of once again finding comfort in each other and they certainly had. Hips sore and hair missed, Felix answered with an arch of his brow as Sylvain turned to him.

“You look like you’re about to turn into the Incredible Hulk.” Felix put his boot down on the floor as he leaned forward, taking a closer look.

“I like the look.” 

"If he starts any shit, I just might," Sylvain said, just a touch of grimness in his tone. It wasn't something he particularly wanted to contemplate, but after nearly three decades with his father, Sylvain knew the old dances well and was prepared for any outcome.

He knelt before Felix and flashed a mischievous smile as he finished lacing up his boots, taking a moment to slide his hand up the length of the other's leg. After pressing a kiss to Felix's knee, he sat back on his haunches and looked up.

"We'll be fine, Fe. Right?"

“We are fine,” Felix repeated as he leaned forward reclaiming the space Sylvain left. He cupped his chin, tilting it up and finding his eyes. “We will be fine, Sylvain.” 

He looked into the hazel eyes he had come to recognize as home. “It’s you and me.”

"Yeah," he breathed. "Just you and me. Well...fate awaits, I guess."

Sylvain grabbed Felix's hand and linked their fingers together as he pulled him out the door and down the hallway, moving at a brisk pace toward the private quarters his father had temporarily commandeered. He gave Felix a weak smile before leading him inside, where he was surprised by the sight of Margrave looking...almost happy. Or at least, scowling less than usual. 

Rather than put Sylvain at ease, it filled him with an intense feeling of dread. He squared his shoulders and sat down at the table directly opposite his father, eyeing the empty plates and full glasses of wine.

"We're here," he said flatly, fingers twitching on the cloth-covered tabletop.

Felix walked step by step with Sylvain to Margrave Gautier’s temporary lodging. Once inside, Felix kept close to his fiancé and took the seat next to his. Felix’s eyes darted from Sylvain’s and back to his father.

“Thank you for having us.” Felix intoned the sentiment he was made from rote muscle memory of etiquette teachings long since past. He sat, his hand immediately went to Sylvain’s thigh, pulsing a quick set of three.

The Margrave, true to form, gave no acknowledgement of the pleasantries, though his keen gaze did take note of the way his disappointment of a son seemed to relax at the covert touches, and his mood further soured.

"You realize, of course, that you won't be getting married," he stated matter-of-factly, then let the words hang heavy in the air before speaking again. "The Coalition frowns on...fraternization. They will never allow a marriage. Nor would I allow my son, useless though he may be, to marry a Fraldarius."

Beneath the table, Sylvain flinched and gripped Felix's tightly.

Felix returned Sylvain’s grasp with a tight hold of his own. Though it was accurate to say Margrave Gautier’s words did cut too close to the quick, jarring him. But as the two already made up their minds on the topic, there was only one thing that required response.

“Your sight is worse than Sylvain’s.” Felix scowled down at the table before lifting his gaze at his in-law to be. “Professionally and personally, he has been an asset to all those lucky enough to be around him.”

The Margrave struggled in silence for a long moment, face growing redder and redder until he was practically apoplectic with rage. He raised his hand above the table as if he meant to strike it in anger but instead wrapped his fingers one by one around the handle of his butter knife, the gesture controlled and vaguely menacing.

"I know all that," Margrave intoned with a dismissive wave. "That's not the problem. Much as I hate to admit it, despite his drinking and whoring, we at least have one good pilot in his family. The same, Felix, cannot be said for your brother. Or your family name? Is this making sense now?"

While Margrave's tone was annoyed, his eyes were haunted at the edges, and Sylvain felt as though he were looking at yet another person's ghosts.

Felix warily tracked the man’s giant hand as it curled around the knife for the food that had yet to appear. Instinctually, he scooted his leg slightly closer to his hand poised underneath the table on Sylvain.

In his limited experiences with the man, Felix had written him off as a shit human being. But now? With the blatant vitriol he spewed? Felix had been too kind in his estimation. There was nothing human about him. He ground his teeth, nearly snarling.

“You had two good pilots until you set them both up for failure.” 

The words that careened out of his mouth didn’t register as he spat them. Though his voice never rose, the intensity of his words was nearly palpable. He had too many thoughts and feelings to parse through them now—the only alternative being to give them life. Felix’s cheeks puffed out as the anger rose in him.

“It’s a wonder Sylvain has accomplished so much despite your best efforts to sabotage both your sons.” Felix sneered at the man, “They were children. Even if you never saw yourself as a parent, you’d still be a shit commander.”

For just a moment, a feral glint flashed across Margrave's face, only to be tamped down by slit-eyed malice.

"Easy enough for a Fraldarius runt who grew up in an area that was safe...and who do you think kept it safe, Felix?" he spat, leaning in just slightly.

Then, regaining his composure, he sat back in his chair and leveled the pair with a cool, detached gaze.

"Besides, where were your men, Fraldarius? They're unreliable at best, Sylvain--all of them."

Without him realizing it, this unintended and half-assed approach had become the one and only piece of fatherly advice in his entire life.

Unreliable.

Felix inhaled to respond, breath catching in his throat. Who kept them safe? Where had they been? Those points had always been valid. The Fraldariuses had received flack for initially holding resources, personnel included, when the kaiju threat began. It was all too new, too unpredictable for the insulated power. They did, however, join the resistance shortly after, though the time they waited as lives were lost was not forgotten—least of all, apparently, by one of the first to respond, the Gautiers.

That had been then...and even so, an argument could have been made for the soundness of their decision. However, that wasn't him. The man didn't know him and yet, the swing that Margrave took was one that hit them all in their core and since Felix was the only one left, he assuredly felt it.

He sat silently, eyes cast back down to his empty plate.

Sylvain's ire began to rise the second his fiancé's name left his father's loathsome lips, and he squeezed Felix's hand tightly in an effort to restrain himself. Fingers and lips trembling, Sylvain took a healthy swig of wine, so expensive that it tasted unfamiliar and foul--and swallowed hard before glaring daggers at his father.

"Felix has been nothing but reliable, Margrave." Sylvain's voice was steely. "Maybe you should just come out and say it. Say why you really hate the Fraldariuses. Might as well get it out in the open, since I'm about to become one."

As silence threatened to swallow them, Felix turned wide eyes to his side when he heard Sylvain’s pointed tone. Other than the immense pride he felt at Sylvain’s insistence that he was to become a Fraldarius, Felix did feel confused. Why did the Margrave hate the Fraldarius family?

Felix was under the impression that Sylvain’s father, as unpleasant as he was, simply had an awful and repugnant streak that informed his personality. But from the way that Sylvain spoke, he sounded as if there was something else causing that intense hatred…but what?

Though Margrave's glare remained unwavering, a curtain of old memories descended over his eyes.

"I had to listen to him cry for your brother," he said in a low, flat voice,  staring at Felix. "For weeks. Do you know how distasteful that was? How embarrassing? Your father's lucky we were able to sweep that scandal under the rug, but now here you are, trailing along after another Gautier, just like your brother did."

The deep baritone of Margrave’s voice might have other wise been soothing. However, just by the simple words he spoke, each cut further and further into the valley in Felix’s heart he had filled time and time again.

Pathetic.

He wanted more. Chased after it relentlessly.

Needy.

This time, instead of Sylvain’s voice melding into Miklan’s, it was Miklan’s merging with Margrave. Weren’t these things Miklan had said of Glenn? Of him? And instead of feeling the barbed words or being confused over the revelation of his brother’s clandestine, one-sided relationship, Felix’s heart ached to learn the truth. His hand went slack in Sylvain’s grasp as he whispered.

“He actually cared.”

Sylvain was stunned by his father's words and held Felix's hand tighter, alarm bells screaming in his head when he felt the other's grip go slack in his own. He swallowed hard again, feeling simultaneously hot and cold. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to comfort Felix, but Margrave wasn't finished.

"He did care, Felix," the older man continued, voice close to a coo. "And that's why he only has one arm now. If your idiot brother hadn't--"

The plates and silverware clanged together as Sylvain rose as if on autopilot, knees slamming against the underside of the table. He released Felix's hand in favor of slamming both of his onto the tabletop before his father, leaning forward into his space in the traditional Gautier way.

"Shut the fuck up, old man," he hissed, the world around him fading away until all that was left was his father's sneering, hateful face. "Miklan lost his arm because you were a fucking idiot and decided to swing your pathetic dick by sending your thirteen-year-old and his brother up against a Cat 3."

It was the first time Sylvain had ever referred to Miklan as his brother without even a touch of derision or regret; at the moment, all of his ire was reserved for their father. He loomed over the older man, breathing hard and trembling lightly.

Felix flinched at the tremendous outburst at his side. Though he had seen Sylvain in the throes of anger with Dima, what he saw now was different. The low, warning tone nearly reverberated his bones as he looked from one red head to the next.

When Sylvain had spoken about his father before, it had never been with anything but fearful disdain. But here and now, it was so much more. Hurt, righteous indignation, anger, all of it, years and years in the making all just to be laid bare here. Who was Felix to get in the way of that long-overdue processing? And so he sat, raising his hand, placing it feather-light at Sylvain’s side as he leveled a steely look at Margrave.

Sylvain's lips, drawn tight into a thin line, quivered with rage as he looked between his father and the glass of wine on the table. Felix's touch at his side felt like a ghost's caress and he shivered. Then, reaching out with a hand that was not quite his own, Sylvain grabbed the wine glass and slowly poured it over his father's head, watching with sick pleasure as the man's features contorted in anger behind a sea of red.

When the glass had only a drop left in it, Sylvain upended it, extending the long column of his throat to suck the last bit dry. Then he held it contemplatively between their faces, bending the stem until it snapped. He glanced down, unbothered, at the pinprick of blood that had begun to well where the glass pierced his skin, and dragged the injured digit down the side of Margrave's face, leaving a bloody track.

"I guess you can go die now, or something," he said blandly, stepping back from the table. "You don't have any sons anymore."

Eyes wide and wild, Felix stared at the scene unfolding in front of him. Rigid against his chair, he watched as the red from the wine clashed with his fiery locks, only to then again clash with the small, dappling of blood drawn down the man’s face. Felix swallowed hard as he stood shakily, moving towards Sylvain.

“Sylvain,” he called softly as he wrapped his hand over his shoulder. More words likely should have been said, but Sylvain was his own man and Felix would offer support in any way it came. He pulsed three small, surreptitious squeezes into his arm, guiding his backwards movement.

Sylvain went easily with Felix's gentle guidance, though he turned his head to continue to glare daggers at Margrave even as they retreated. Then, in another pique of childish rage, he flipped his father the bird, then briefly unlinked his arm from Felix's to jam his forearm into his opposite elbow in another universally-accepted gesture meaning fuck you sideways and back again.

"C'mon, Fe," he said quietly, features softening. Once they were back in the corridor, the door sealed securely behind them, Sylvain turned to Felix and placed his uninjured hand on the shorter man's cheek, eyes full of concern. "Are you okay?"

“Am I okay?” Felix parroted looking  up incredulously at Sylvain. Time and time again, the man had surprised him both in his care and concern, but also his selflessness. Had he not just faced the original bane of his and his brother’s existence? Yet, here Sylvain was worrying over how he felt? Felix cupped the hand at his cheek, pressing against it.

“If I’m worried, it’s only because I’m worried about you.” He closed his eyes momentarily, breathing in the peace they had between them. “I’m fine,” Felix emphasized, gaze finding Sylvain’s again. “How are you holding up? That was,” he paused, “…intense.”

Sylvain grounded himself in Felix's eyes and pressed his hand more firmly to his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips. After a series of gentle passes with his thumb, he slipped his hand to cup the back of his fiancé's neck with a light sigh.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Any time I deal with that motherfucker--and I am literally allowed to call him that, because it's literally true--it's always intense. Just can't wait 'til the day he dies, that's all. I think another party might be in order when that finally happens."

While his tone was jovial, Sylvain's expression remained serious. He pressed a lingering kiss to Felix's forehead as he held him close.

Felix remained silent as Sylvain spoke, moving easily to him when he pressed a firm kiss against his forehead. Eyes closed, Felix let his harsh words flow over him for what they were. Felix knew there was no love lost between father and son before he had ever stepped foot in the base. In the Drift, more than seen, Felix had felt those intense feelings. It was, however, a different experience all together to bear personal witness to it.

Under his extended chin, Felix spoke to Sylvain’s chest, “Let’s go.” He stepped back, tugging at his wrist. “Away from here.” When the words left his mouth, Felix didn’t know if he meant the doorstep or the base itself. What were they doing anymore? What kind of life were they living if this threatened power was held over them in perpetuity?

"Your room," Sylvain said quietly, finally letting the mask slip as a mildly gloomy expression washed over his face. "I just want us to be alone together right now. But don't worry, Fe... we'll figure this out somehow. I promise."

He stepped back and took Felix's hand in a soft, intimate grip, mind working in monotonous circles the entire walk back to their quarters.

Chapter 90: To Hell and Back

Summary:

"I could stand to stay here for the next thousand, if it means we'll be together. But even if we can't stay here, worst-case scenario, there are plenty of places we can go."

Chapter Text

By the time he'd opened the door and flopped down on the bed, Sylvain was dismayed to realize that he'd found no more clarity than he had before. He lifted his head off the mattress, beckoning to Felix.

Not needing additional prompting, Felix removed his boots before moving to the bed. He scooted next to Sylvain, lying at his back as he slid his arm under his neck and pressed his own forehead to the nape.

“I could stand to stay here for the next hundred years.”

Sylvain instinctively wriggled back against Felix, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of the rise and fall of his partner's chest against his tense and aching back. It was beginning to creep up into his shoulders and neck, and he made a low, pathetic whine as he twisted his head to look at Felix's face.

"I could stand to stay here for the next thousand, if it means we'll be together. But even if we can't stay here, worst-case scenario, there are plenty of places we can go."

“What do you mean?” Felix's brows furrowed gently in confusion as he stroked at Sylvain’s turned cheek. “Where else? When? What would we do?”

Of course Sylvain had likely meant it as some turn of phrase, not literally in the way Felix’s heart ached for it to be. But even so, he spoke, giving his question life.

"I dunno, jack a Jaeger or something and just blow this popsicle stand, I guess." The playful lilt that had begun in Sylvain's voice finally reached his face, dimples showing and hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. Though it had begun in Sylvain's mind as a late-night fantasy that only occasionally involved sex in the world's weirdest three-way, it had steadily taken root since Miklan arrived, and it had nearly burst into full bloom and consumed everyone half an hour ago. "But seriously, Fe. We could get married, see how the party goes, and then just...sneak down to the jaeger bay while everyone's distracted and fuck off outta here."

A slow, genuine smile curled at his lips as Felix saw the light return to Sylvain’s eyes.

“That would be something.”

There was something wistful in Felix’s voice as his eyes cast over his shoulder. Just like the thought of jumping from a high place when on a balcony, there always was that wild, non-actionable impulse at the end of a mission. When just staring at the expanse of space in front of you, stories high, Felix had often wondered the impossible. What if he just left? What if they just left? Felix had to laugh.

"Who's gonna stop us?" Sylvain continued, just a touch of euphoria racing through his veins. "We've got each other, money, and a murder machine."

Sylvain rolled over on the bed to see into his eyes better, now lying side by side. His eyes, while still solemn, showed traces of his old self coming back, and he pressed his hand to Felix's chest, just above his heart.

“Not even a Cat. 5 kaiju so far.” When phrased as such, the answer itself was completely true. Who or what could? Felix squeezed Sylvain’s hand as he leaned forward, lips brushing his forehead in a light kiss. “I’ll follow you anywhere, partner. One foot in front of the other.”

"Even if our destination is literally hell?" Sylvain quipped, though it wasn't really a joke. They'd faced death together countless times now, and once, the worst had almost happened. He gave Felix a long squeeze and blinked hard against the sudden wetness in his eyes, which he chalked up to it being from the frustration of a very rough day. He surreptitiously dabbed his face on Felix's hair and then nuzzled into him, hoping to throw him off the track. Sylvain followed up the actions with a soft, slightly wavering, "I'm okay now."

Biting back a retort that would have called Sylvain on his self-assessment, Felix focused instead on the small movements that gave all the information he needed to know. Wrapping his arms around Sylvain, Felix held onto him tightly.

“It’s okay to not be okay. I’m with you to hell and back again.” Felix pressed his cheek into Sylvain’s thick locks as he sat enjoying the tandem rise and fall of their chests.

Chapter 91: Untold Truths

Summary:

Even after all this time, Miklan couldn't bear himself to speak Glenn's name into existence and looked across at Felix with a silent plea in his eyes.

Chapter Text

Despite his growing feelings of uneasiness, Miklan's scowl deepened and his strides grew longer as he made his way to the younger, lesser Fraldarius's quarters. Margrave had just given him Hell Incarnate, and it had only gotten worse when Miklan pointed out the blood on his face, genuinely surprised. His response had been a swift, fierce backhand, far more powerful than a man his father's age should have been capable of, but Miklan had had worse; of course he had. His fist hovered in the air just above the battered metal door for a moment and he glared at his hand until it had stopped trembling completely. Then, without ceremony, he burst inside, not giving a damn who or what Felix was doing. When he caught sight of his younger brother's fiancé, with his hair half-up, half-down, and looking fully fucked, Miklan's rage flared...and was promptly snuffed out. Though his shoulders threatened to sag, he forced them up and out, broad as always.

"You," he said simply, though his voice came out a worn rasp rather than a brutal, commanding tone.

With some nonsense about not being able to see the bride, Sylvain had left, calmer and far more at ease than when they had arrived. It was a few hours later after talks of wild ideas and saccharine plans that Felix had returned from a much needed scalding shower. Fresh leisure clothes slung back on, the dark fringe of his hair made dark spots where the water wicked away into the fabric of his shirt. He turned when the door opened behind him. Eyes wide, Felix’s mind quickly dismissed the bulky figure as Sylvain, thankfully eliminating Margrave, leaving only one.

“Miklan,” he answered automatically, furrowing his brows.

Miklan took a few short steps forward but stopped abruptly, face paling as though he'd seen a ghost--and perhaps, for a moment, he had. He blinked at Felix once, twice, the tension in his brows lifting.

"You're Felix," he said softly. Then, the brusque note returning to his voice, he added, "Obviously. Where's Sylvain? What, are you two fighting or something?"

But instead of intending to goad, there was mild concern behind Miklan's words. He lifted a hand to the darkening bruise at his own cheek, the unscarred corner of his lip lifting in a silent snarl not so much at the other man as at his father--and himself.

Felix’s head cocked to the side as he arched a questioning brow. Of course I’m Felix, who else… the silent thought remained unspoken as understanding cut through his consciousness when he caught his reflection. They had always looked the same. He cared. He was distraught. He cared too much. His pointed features softened momentarily with understanding as his eyes tracked Miklan’s large hand to his newly shadowed cheek. Moving on impulse, without care or concern for himself, Felix walked towards the intruder-turned-guest.

“No, we’re not. Never mind that. What happened?” Felix answered the question dismissively before posing his own as he leaned in close with his arms still at his side.

Miklan flinched as Felix approached, guard still up and firmly in place. But he held his ground, not turning to show or conceal the bruise. Instead, he slid his hand up his face and rubbed hard at his tired eyes before dropping it limply to his side, his empty sleeve dangling where his left arm should have been.

"Margrave happened," he said with a particularly dark, dry chuckle. "Came and found me after you two fucked off, covered in blood. I asked what happened and he did this." Miklan shrugged; though the backhand had hurt, it not only paled but became translucent as he recalled the time just after Ruined Sky, when he'd been beaten mercilessly with an iron rod the day he got out of the hospital. "Anyway, Sylvain apparently gave him a hell of what-for. Kind of...I'm kind of proud, I guess. Don't tell him I said that."

A flash of anger passed Felix’s face momentarily as he surveyed the damage before turning with a hiss of air. He bent to the small freezer at the side of his metal desk as Miklan spoke. As he shifted frozen goods searching for his prize, a small, secret smile curled at his lips at the heretofore unheard pride evident in the man’s words and tone.

“I’m not going to say shit,” Felix answered with no bite as he turned around with the ice pack he had sought. Reaching over on his bed, he grabbed his stretched shirt that was nigh unwearable after Sylvain’s use. Wrapping the cold pack, Felix spoke with thinly veiled disdain, “I’d say bad timing, but I can’t see there ever being a good time with that man.”

He held the wrapped ice pack carefully in his hands. “I’m sorry he took out his anger on you. And so is Sylvain.” Felix shook his head as his fiancé’s words had yet to leave him. Miklan lost his arm…by sending your thirteen year old and his brother…. You don’t have any sons anymore. “He said some things that were long overdue for you both. But,” he began as he extended the pack to Miklan in offering with a regretful look, “you getting hurt for it wasn’t intended.”

Miklan paused for a moment, caught as always between resentment and honesty. He silently took the ice pack from Felix and pressed it to his cheek, wincing at the sudden cold and giving a curt nod of thanks.

"Shit happens," he said with a long, defeated exhale. "Can't change it. I guess I thought I always took the brunt of it and Sylvain got off mostly scott-free, but now I know..."

He trailed off again, feeling a foreign and unwelcome stab of something unnamable awaken within his chest. He cleared his throat and shook his opposite shoulder, readjusting his jacket not to emphasize the missing limb but for his own comfort; despite having ample money and access to the best medical care, it still hadn't healed quite right, and his shoulder constantly ached where the arm had been wrenched from its socket and devoured by a kaiju.

"I know what you lost, too. And I'm sorry."

Felix stood in shocked silence at the apology he hadn’t needed nor expected. Thunderstruck, he stared at the man who had still been an unmitigated terror, but who had lost so much in his own right.

“…I’m beginning to understand what you lost. I’m sorry as well.” The voice that answered was soft and reproachful as he gestured for the man to take a seat. Felix, with the help of his that had gone the way of jelly, lowered himself to the threadbare rug, pulling a pillow to him, resting it within his grasp on his lap. “Sit?”

The softness in Felix's voice was unlike anything Miklan had ever heard before in his life--from Felix, or from anyone else, aside from Glenn. He winced delicately as he sat down on the floor across from Felix, awkwardly folding his legs beneath him. He also couldn't remember the last time he'd sat on the floor that wasn't part of a punishment, sexual or otherwise.

"I know you understand," he said with some difficulty, "because you almost lost it, too. Double, I guess. Sylvain and...your brother."

Even after all this time, Miklan couldn't bear himself to speak Glenn's name into existence and looked across at Felix with a silent plea in his eyes.

Felix’s eyes widened in embarrassment and softened in understanding. He had clumsily offered Miklan a seat on his bed or the stiff chair to his side, but Miklan, in maybe his search for some kind of mutual understanding chose to meet Felix on his level.

“I haven’t talked about…Glenn to anyone but Sylvain…and now you.” There was a heartbeat of a pause before speaking life into his name, but Felix had wanted to see Miklan in that moment. For as harsh and brusque as the man had been even when speaking about him, he had yet to say Glenn’s name outright. Felix wanted to see if that was merely by chance; he was beginning to believe that was a very cognizant choice. “You haven’t talked to anyone about him either…have you?”

Miklan's laugh was booming but joyless and lasted for only the briefest of moments before his face returned to its usual serious demeanor, though he wore considerably less of a scowl than usual.

"Who the fuck would I talk to about him, Little Frald--Felix?" he asked, mentally catching the derisive nickname before he could finish. "My father is the one who caught us that night. Tore us apart, literally."

He fell silent again; better to divulge the information in tiny, easy-to-digest pieces, for himself as well as the other man.

The wince at Miklan’s words rippled throughout Felix’s body, his entire being recoiling with the visceral visual. “I’m…I’m sorry. That’s awful on so many levels.” Gritting his teeth, Felix’s fists gripped his army-issued pillow tighter, white knuckles blending into the fabric. “How long was that before…” he allowed his voice to trail off.

"Six days." Miklan's voice was hollow, a mere shadow of its former self, as he uttered the two terrible syllables. He cleared his throat and swept his eyes around the room to quell the sudden rush of emotion that was, for once, not masked by blind rage. He still couldn't bring himself to look directly at Felix, who looked so much like his brother that upon their first meeting, Miklan had left and vomited into some poor first-year cadet's helmet the second he'd taken it off. "I'll spare you the details, but when I say 'caught us,' I'm sure you know what I mean. You know my brother, after all. I guess that was the last straw for the old man, but the point is, I never saw Glenn again."

Miklan swallowed hard and glanced down at his hand in his lap.

“Yeah…I got that.” Felix mumbled the words down to the pillow he clutched. It was all so quick, fraught with several opposite and even more overlapping emotions…how was anyone expect to deal with them, much less process any of them? Faded memories played in Felix’s mind. Terrible gnashing of metal on metal, high-pitched heretofore unintelligible screams that suddenly rang with a clarity that had not been present before. 

“Do you,” Felix began, unable to keep all the bitterness out of his voice, “…so you didn’t take him back after that?”

"Thought he wouldn't want me. Not like this." Miklan blinked against the vulnerability and furrowed his brows in an attempt to hide his emotions. "And it took a long time to heal, you know. This shit happens so fast, but they don't tell you how long the part after is. Pretty sure Margrave wouldn't let him visit. And by the time I got out and was...okay enough to find him..."

Righteous indignation flared up within Felix as he attempted to tamp it down to little success.

“You do him a disservice if you think something like that would deter my brother.” Felix looked across at the slim side of Miklan’s missing arm. “He’d want to be there more for you if that were the case. Not out of pity but love and how deeply he cared.”

That old, familiar flare of anger returned and Miklan had to physically grip at his knee in a hard-fought battle to hold his tongue. Then, without warning, his eyes began to water and he shrugged his left shoulder up to dab discreetly at his face.

"I...we never got the chance to say that." Miklan's voice quivered almost imperceptibly, though he made his best attempt to remain as stoic as ever. Another pause, and then: "I was so pissed when I saw you with my brother. Like ghosts."

Out of habit, Felix averted his eyes from Miklan’s dabs, allowing some semblance of space in an ever-uncomfortable situation. However, when he looked back, when he connected Miklan’s words, he let out a long breath. For the first time, rather being saddened or angered at the comparison to his brother, Felix, instead, felt guilty. No, of course it wasn’t something he could help, no one could stop the family resemblance nor how he and Sylvain fit together perfectly. But did he regret the hurt he had unwittingly caused? Yes.

“You had to know he did though. Even if it wasn’t…you had to know.” Felix’s voice cracked as he swallowed his own emotion, again hearing that telltale break.

Miklan knew Glenn had loved him fiercely, once promising that he'd continue to do so even beyond death, which hurt even worse when he actually did die. It seemed a cruel irony to Miklan that he would experience such a brief moment of indescribable joy, only to have it ripped from him forever mere days later.

"I loved him," he said quietly, uttering the words for the first time in his life. Then, meeting Felix's eyes, he repeated, "I loved your brother. That's why Margrave is so pissed. That's why...that's why Glenn's dead." Miklan's scowl returned, though he made no attempt to stand. "And that's why I keep my distance."

For the first time since the man had entered the room, Felix’s grip went slack. As the pillow slipped from his grasp, his mind whirred with things to say, responses that would somehow reach the broken man, for that was what he was, missing arm notwithstanding. The first that tumbled out of his throat came from that logical place that had no effect when emotions were heightened.

“That’s not why he died, Miklan.”

Initially, Felix’s voice was small as he whispered the words. Swallowing hard, he spoke again, “Why Glenn is dead is no more your fault than your injury was Sylvain’s. You aren't to blame.” He furrowed his brows, features taut, ready to defend if necessary, but hoping he would see the logic. Felix shook his head, eyes cast down before finding familiar hazel. “Glenn wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. I think you know that."

Miklan winced at the words; never before had he been spoken to with such kindness, such understanding, let alone coming from a person who should hate him and want him dead. And maybe Felix still did, but for now, Miklan sensed an uneasy truce between them.

"I know I'm not," he said with a long sigh, rubbing his face. "But you're the first person who's ever said that. And...I appreciate that."

“Sometimes even assholes deserve the truth.” Felix meant the thought with more bite, but he wasn’t unpleased that it was nowhere to be found. He looked down at the wide space between their opposite-facing folded legs. Never in his most wildest of dreams could he have ever imagined speaking to Miklan like this, much less glad for the opportunity to do so. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Miklan shrugged, sleeve flapping at his shoulder, then glanced down at the offending garment in annoyance.

"Probably trying to avoid Margrave as much as possible. No idea yet. Why?"

In truth, Miklan had found himself adjusting quickly to a mostly-nocturnal schedule, sleeping or making himself scarce during the day and wistfully prowling the jaeger bay at night, when he was certain the only people around wouldn't recognize him. It always felt the same: nostalgic, pathetic, horrifying. Each time he tried to reach out to caress one of the machines' beautiful, battered hulls, only one hand made contact, and it burned.

“Come to our wedding.” Felix blurted out the non-response, all command all at once. He raised his eyes, forcing himself not to look away out of embarrassment or otherwise. “Sylvain and I are getting married tomorrow. It’s not big or anything like that…but it’s ours.” Felix swallowed, willing himself to continue. “Things are definitely shit between you both and Margrave. And it’s not okay between you and your brother and it probably won’t ever be.” Felix’s voice never wavered, but did dip in volume, forcing rapt attention for the next part.

“But you’re family. You need to be there.”

Family. The only thing Miklan knew of family was resentment, violence, disappointment, and the last thing he needed was any more of that. He rose abruptly to his feet and turned on his heel, back to Felix, shoulders rigid.

"My family is dead to me," he said simply, then shoved the door open and let it slam shut with a clang.

 

Chapter 92: Truce

Summary:

Dimitri moved closer, mirroring Sylvain’s stance against the railing. “You’ve been standoffish towards me and it’s getting noticeable.”

Chapter Text

With long strides, Dimitri reached the end of the long hallway that led to the outer perimeter in search of one person. Dimitri had assumed it had been long enough of a time since the announcement and celebration of Felix and Sylvain’s engagement and their personal celebration that things would have returned to normal. And largely, they had. Felix had gone about the transition of their piloting partners without a hitch as he made time to still train and help with the realignment of he and Dorothea as Drift partners once again. Sylvain was also there to help facilitate, yet, there was something off. It never deterred nor halted any progress, yet the way he never met his gaze or the quick, bitten off responses, this wasn’t the Sylvain he had come to expect. So here he was, stalking the man to get to the bottom of it. Hand over hand, he gripped the rails and climbed up the bases easternmost watch tower where a certain redhead was last seen.

“Hello, Sylvain,” he grunted as he pulled himself up from the ladder, light eye shining in the low light.

Sylvain had been staring out into the roiling sea, arms draped over the rusted wrought-iron railing of the watchtower, when he heard an all-too-familiar voice coming from the left--his bad side, acutely tuned like a dog's ever since Ruined Sky. He blinked hard and took a breath, willing himself to be civil before turning his head to look at the other man.

"Dimitri." Sylvain's voice was curt but not unfriendly. "What's up?"

Sylvain himself had no idea what the fuck was up, but if his suspicions were correct about the 'why' of Dimitri's sudden visit, he was most assuredly not looking forward to the inevitable conversation. They'd gone from trying to murder each other to civility to jealousy to fucking, and now? He wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that he'd taken Felix from Dimitri not once but twice, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest twinge of sympathy for the man.

That he was greeted might have been a low bar, but it was still one that Sylvain had managed to clear, giving Dimitri an iota of home for whatever conversation this turned out to be.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Dimitri moved closer, mirroring Sylvain’s stance against the railing. “You’ve been standoffish towards me and it’s getting noticeable.”

"I watched you fuck the man who will be my husband in less than twenty-four hours, and come on his face," Sylvain snapped, unable to hold his resentment and feeling like an absolute goddamn hypocrite because he'd been so gung-ho on the idea--and had been the one to introduce it to begin with. That he found it incredibly hot only complicated things.

He raked a hand through his hair but made no move to stand or beckon Dimitri closer. Then, stalling for time, he chewed on his lip.

Gripping the bar, Dimitri recoiled with a thinly veiled scowl as he turned to face the man who had just let loose his outburst.

“Did you want to see me come inside him? Or how about not see it at all and know we fucked under your nose and out of sight? Which would be best for you out of those alternatives?”

His voice was a harsh whisper as he gripped at the metal railings. What was this even about? He was done trying to make anything happen with Felix. He didn’t need to understand their relationship, but he did need to respect it, and he had come to that ultimate decision. Ever since their coupling, or tripling, there had been a sense of some sort of closure between Dimitri and Felix which he felt was a shared consensus. But obviously that wasn’t the case as the man to his side seethed.

“Well?”

"I...don't know," Sylvain admitted, taken completely off-guard by the unexpected challenge. He swallowed hard and cast his gaze to the side for a moment before meeting Dimitri's remaining eye. "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't, I guess." And while he was running at the mouth and the truth overflowed, he added, "I think the worst part is how fucking hot I found it. But it seemed like it helped you guys, so that's my shit to deal with. Sorry."

“The devil you let in. You practically invited me,” Dimitri stressed as he let his hand rise and fall from the railing. He kept looking ahead as he stared out towards the horizon line. “Even though I obviously thought about it, I chalked it up to some weird foreplay in the hall that first time.”

He rolled his eye and sighed, exasperation seeping at the seams, “And when I thought you both were good, like you said you were, I took the opportunity.” It was here that Dimitri lost the battle between confusion and composure. “I don’t know why you think that’s a bad thing to have found it that way. We’re all attractive. You wanted it. I wanted it. Felix wanted it. So why,” he turned towards Sylvain, “are you the only one caught up by it?”

"Because I fucking despised you when we first met, and I think I still do." Sylvain's tone was casual, teetering precariously on the edge of friendly and dangerous. He pulled one long leg up and steepled it in front of his chest, wrapping his arms around his shin and resting his chin atop his knee. Looking the other man up and down, he was met with the same old mixture of desire and loathing as the very first time he set eyes on him. "Probably that stupid enemies-to-lovers trope-y shit, I don't know. Fe hasn't said anything about to me, honestly, and neither have I. But I'm curious...what's the aftermath been like for you?" Whether it was an expression of concern or yet another way to gloat remained unspecified.

The question took Dimitri aback, his one light eye widening. He turned away from Sylvain, leaning over the railing.

“It’s not been great, but it has been enlightening.” From his broad back, a careless hand waved to the side. “Not that I was still trying to get Felix back. He made his decision quite clear. But, you need him just as much as he needs you. Maybe even more.” Dimitri hadn’t intended to share that particular observation, but this was no common conversation to be had. He shook his head as it hung, “You’re not alone in feeling that particular way. I wanted to stay, you know. Being with Felix was better than I ever imagined, but I wanted to stay afterwards. But, alas.” A dry chuckle escaped his throat. “I had obviously overstayed my welcome.”

Sylvain felt a twinge of pity for the other man as he spoke his own truth. He maneuvered his legs out from beneath the railing and stood, noting with mild annoyance that Dimitri was just slightly taller than him.

"That sucks," he said helpfully, leaning into the railing beside Dimitri and looking out into the night. He paused, listening to the waves roiling far beneath them, and winced as an old memory threatened to come in with the tide. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, warmer. "I think all three of us needed that. Seeing you two together hurt, but hey, it was fun working with you to get Felix off. I guess that makes us copilots, right?" Sylvain capped the statement with a wink, feeling better now that Dimitri seemed to finally know his place.

Dimitri arched a light brow, confused at Sylvain’s response. On the one hand, Sylvain seemed to be concerned for his sake, but in the same breath, he seemed to breathe life back into that competitive hatred that they both shared. And perhaps that was the case. Why couldn’t it be both? Their feelings for Felix had both caused their clashes and brought them together. This ever-shifting duality was perhaps to be their lot. While shifting sands did not a strong foundation lay, that they were of the same understanding was comforting.

“I suppose that does.” Dimitri snickered, bringing his fist to his mouth. “Felix as some ornery and horny kaiju sounds just right.”

Sylvain wasn't sure he particularly cared for the way Dimitri described his fiancé, but he kept his expression benign and refrained from telling the man how he truly felt. After a moment's consideration, he turned his head and torso to face the other pilot. "Hey," he began casually, "what d'you think would've happened if you and I had been assigned together?" It was an extremely loaded question, and Sylvain couldn't wait to hear the answer.

The other pilot's words again, took Dimitri aback. "What do I think would have happened if we were assigned together?" Dimitri chuckled as he looked out again over the churning waters below. "Originally or after the reassignment I imagine would be the same thing. Bedlam or synchronicity. No in between." He looked over at Sylvain, tilting his head. "What say you?"

Sylvain kept his gaze locked on the slightly taller man and ran his hand through unruly wind-whipped auburn waves. For the first time since their whirlwind romance had begun, he took a moment to reflect on just how it had begun--bickering in the jaeger bay, mean-mugging each other in the halls. "Probably would've ended up fucking you at some point," he said finally, allowing himself a small, sly smirk. "Which I guess we kinda did. Past that? I don't know. Think we'd be good copilots?"

“I’d fuck you for sure.” Dimitri corrected probably a bit too quickly.” And a version of that was done. “Too bad it ended like it did, but,” the large man heaved a sigh as he shrugged his shoulders, “there’s a time and a place for everything and that wasn’t it.”

“Beyond that, if we managed to communicate clearly, we would’ve been good pilots. But, communication doesn’t seem to be either of our strong suits.”

Sylvain's brows shot high at Dimitri's sudden outburst and he laughed openly, shaking his head. Whether the man meant it as a display of dominance or an admission that he'd fantasized about Sylvain before didn't matter; without even realizing it, he had gone from tense and angry to slightly amused and almost relaxed. "It would've been worse for you if you had stayed," Sylvain said quietly, apologetically, as he recalled how tightly Felix had curled up around him, how he himself had stayed awake long after his fiancé had drifted off to admire the softness of his features in sleep and listen to the sound of his breathing. "You know that, Dima."

Dimitri pursed his lips, the urge to quip back and argue passed after only a moment. His muscles went slack as he nodded in reluctant agreement. “That’s why I left. I started feeling like an intruder, less a guest.” A feeling of lonesomeness as well as an ebbing-but-still-present bitterness rose in his belly. “Was everything alright afterwards? For you two.”

"Yes," Sylvain responded, opting for brevity not out of spite but a desire to protect his partner's privacy. "Everything was, and remains, just fine." He straightened up slightly and wrapped his fingers around the railing as he pondered his next move as carefully as though he were playing a particularly high-stakes game of chess. In a way, it was; though Sylvain didn't much care for the man, he was important to Felix, and he wasn't about to take that away from the one person he was actually capable of loving. "I'll take good care of him, you know. You don't need to worry."

And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? Dimitri met the redhead’s gaze as he stared long into his eyes, searching. Yes, Dimitri had feelings for Felix. Yes, much remained, but chief among them was a love he had for the man as family. He was the only family he had known for years and when Glenn and Rodrigue died, that he couldn’t be that for Felix when he needed it most? It had broken him. He wanted to be and offer the support he had received and he had not been able to do that. But this man. With their placement, with Sylvain, it seemed like Felix had found his family.

“I know.” Dimitri's whisper was low and gentle. “I know you will. I cannot say I won’t worry—it isn’t in me not to. But,” he paused, “I know he cares for you deeply as you do in return.”

Sylvain nodded in grim understanding, taking a moment to consider Dimitri's words the way one might solemnly bow their head at a funeral. Then, just as quickly, he brightened up and clapped a friendly arm to the blonde's shoulder.

"Hey, it's all good," he said cheerfully. "You're coming to the wedding tomorrow, right? I mean, you came to the bachelor party, and then came, so it'd be rude not to. No dress code, no plans. Just pure chaos. You in?"

The clap to Dimitri's back and Sylvain's easy smile was met by one of his own as he turned into him, grasping his opposite with a firm squeeze.

"Couldn't stop me if you tried," he joked. Kind of. To ensure his tone remained light as it was mostly intended, Dimitri continued, "I'm in. Thank you." He nodded his head down at Sylvain with a grin. "It will be a fine day for a wedding."

 

Chapter 93: Goin' to the Chapel

Summary:

A soft, almost shy smile and the faintest hint of pink rose to his cheeks as he gazed down adoringly at his fiancé. "Fe, you clean up... so fucking well. And if we weren't about to get married...I'd take those off you," he added with a wink.

Chapter Text

Much like the night of their bachelor party, Sylvain stood alone in his now-seldom-used room staring into the mirror, albeit far more nervously this time. He'd tugged a comb through his hair earlier; promptly deciding he hated how it looked, he'd spent a full fifteen minutes trying to artfully muss it.

He buttoned his shirt and vest with a surgeon's precision, glancing briefly at his cuffs and lamenting that he hadn't thought of--or had time--to have something custom made in their colors. The thought of anything being his and Felix's made Sylvain's heart flutter incessantly and he smiled at himself in the mirror at the sudden flash of warmth and affection that shot through him.

When he was more or less satisfied with his appearance, Sylvain made the arduous journey one room over to knock on Felix's door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets.

*

Over, under, over, under…

Knuckle over knuckle, Felix stared into the mirror willing his fingers to move with exacting precision as Dorothea had demonstrated the night before. Of course when she did it, it was effortless. Her fingers rose and fell as they weaved through his hair as though she was flawlessly playing an instrument. His experience, well, they weren’t the same. Bemoaning his haphazard braid, he tied the end strands together as it fell back at the nape of his neck. Hair left long and French braid on the crown of his head, the rest of his braid fell down the middle of his head.

Standing in front of the mirror, Felix took in his overall look. He wore shiny patent leather shoes and dark blue pants with a form fitting thin knit, long sleeve black turtleneck. His crimson ring shone at his left side sending a whole new bout of butterflies through his gut. The wedding was last minute, but as with anything with Sylvain, as he had learned, it felt like it was a long time coming—an inevitability, and Felix, for maybe the first time in his life was excited for it.

The knock at the door gave Felix a jump scare, taking him out of his pre-wedding bliss and jamming him right into the jitters. Throwing on the jacket, he flung it around himself, forcing his hands through the arm holes as he moved to the door. Buttoning the suit with one hand, he flung open the door to his quarters.

“I’m here, I’m here. You’re…” Felix’s voice stuck in his throat as he took in his dapper fiancé. Hair, carelessly perfect, vest cutting and hugging every muscle and dip of his chest and torso…

“Are…are you doing anything later?” The uncharacteristically cheeky question was nearly whispered as Felix felt a giddiness well up inside him, taking over and banishing all other feelings of anxiety.

He was going to marry Sylvain.

The sight of Felix all gussied up stole Sylvain's breath away and he let out an audible gasp followed by a shaky exhale as he let his eyes shamelessly wander his very soon-to-be husband's form from head to toe and back up again. When he met the beautiful, fierce amber eyes he so loved, Sylvain smiled and raised a hand to touch Felix's cheek.

"Oh, not much," he said casually. "Just marrying this really hot guy, and then I don't know what."

He took Felix's hand gently in his own, thumb sweeping over his knuckles before landing on the band. A soft, almost shy smile and the faintest hint of pink rose to his cheeks as he gazed down adoringly at his fiancé. "Fe, you clean up... so fucking well. And if we weren't about to get married...I'd take those off you," he added with a wink.

If he had ever done so in his life, he did it now, Felix practically preened at Sylvain’s response and praise. Never one to focus on his appearance for the sake of others, that his husband to be was more than satisfied with his efforts sent a pulse of secret pride through his system.

“I’m glad you like.” The words were soft, any coyness that he aimed for was sorely missed by the sincerity of his words. Clearing his throat, he felt warmth rose to his cheeks. “I’m booked the same, but if you’re not doing anything after…” Felix stepped closer, bringing their combined hands up and placed a soft kiss at Sylvain’s knuckles.

“I’d like to see you in me in that.” Amber eyes looked up from beneath thick, dark lashes. “Or me in you. Whichever. You look incredible, Sylvain.

Sylvain shuddered at the suggestions and stepped closer, one hand pressing to the small of Felix's back to pull him forward while the other tenderly cupped the sharp line of his jaw. He glanced down at his own clothing, then looked back up with a crooked grin.

"That can probably be arranged...been a while since I had you in me," he said, tone as light as though they were discussing the weather. He brushed a non-existent piece of lint from Felix's shoulder before adding, "I've missed it."

Though he wasn't in the habit of wearing a watch, Sylvain's sense of time remained sharp as ever, and he figured they could steal a moment or two. He dipped his head as he tilted Felix's face up, sealing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

Arching his back as Sylvain’s hand slotted just so at the dip of his back, Felix tilted his head up and met Sylvain’s lips with a soft press. Pulling back after a beat, and then another, Felix nosed up at him.

“We can fix that later.” Ever aware of their impending appointment, Felix snaked his hand up the nape of Sylvain’s neck. Threading his fingers, he lightly tugged at his favored auburn locks as he brought their lips together again. This time, he ran his tongue along the seam of Sylvain’s lips as he sought out more of the man that completed him.

"Later," Sylvain agreed, just a tad breathless as they parted once more. "But I'm hoping that's a promise, future husband."

He punctuated the label with butterflies in his chest and a firm squeeze to Felix's ass that lingered, one large hand cupping a small but supple and pleasingly rounded cheek. He nosed back at Felix, then pressed three tiny kisses to his forehead, eyes shining.

"We don't want to be late for our own wedding, now, do we?"

That was indeed a promise, Felix though as he shook his head, Sylvain’s lips still pressed against his forehead.

“I’ve never been late to anything in my life.” Felix’s cheeks burned as he stepped back, interlacing his fingers with Sylvain’s as he met his gaze. “I’m not about to start now.”

Stepping onward, they retraced the dreadfully similar path to the medical bay, only for this time, to pass the starchiness of the area and arrive out in the verdant central plaza. They were to be married here where they had found each other again. Nothing and no one would stop that.

Sylvain looked around the plaza with a small smile that broadened gradually until he was wearing an honest-to-god grin. He slung an arm around Felix's shoulders, much as he had at their very first meeting--the only difference being that he wasn't met with a scowl, a snarl, and a shove this time. With his free hand, he reached down and tugged nervously at the hem of his vest, clearing his throat.

"Well, here we are," he said softly, turning his head slightly to the right to glance down at his breathtakingly gorgeous fiancé. "You ready for this, Fe? I am. Never thought I would be, but..."

Sylvain's words trailed off and he nuzzled his cheek into Felix's tightly-wound braid, his contented sigh puffing out a few loose strands of dark hair.

In the quiet Sylvain's positioning afforded him, Felix was allowed a moment of reflection. Did he ever think he would be married? Never. It just wasn't in the cards for him. There was never to be anyone that would see him and wish to be tethered to the good and the bad and the prickly. Yet here he was—more in love than he could ever hope to be with a person that saw him for all he was and could be. How ever much a lifeline Sylvain called Felix, Sylvain offered the same deft hand to Felix.

"...But," Felix continued, exhaling a labored breath as he swallowed more of his nervous energy, "here we are. Just you and me." Felix nuzzled back against Sylvain, ambivalent of the eyes that followed their path or watched now. He lifted their tightly intertwined fingers as he pressed a purposeful kiss to their nearly white knuckles. Eyes shining, Felix hadn't realized the strength of the emotions that now filled him.

"Ready if you are."

Chapter 94: Dearly Beloved

Summary:

“Are…are you doing anything later?” The uncharacteristically cheeky question was nearly whispered as Felix felt a giddiness well up inside him, taking over and banishing all other feelings of anxiety.

He was going to marry Sylvain.

Chapter Text

Much like the night of their bachelor party, Sylvain stood alone in his now-seldom-used room staring into the mirror, albeit far more nervously this time. He'd tugged a comb through his hair earlier; promptly deciding he hated how it looked, he'd spend a full fifteen minutes trying to artfully muss it.

He buttoned his shirt and vest with a surgeon's precision, glancing briefly at his cuffs and lamenting that he hadn't thought of--or had time--to have something custom made in their colors. The thought of anything being his and Felix's made Sylvain's heart flutter incessantly and he smiled at himself in the mirror at the sudden flash of warmth and affection that shot through him.

When he was more or less satisfied with his appearance, Sylvain made the arduous journey one room over to knock on Felix's door, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet with his hands in his pockets.

*

Over, under, over, under…

Knuckle over knuckle, Felix stared into the mirror willing his fingers to move with exacting precision as Dorothea had demonstrated the night before. Of course when she did it, it was effortless. Her fingers rose and fell as they weaved through his hair as though she was flawlessly playing an instrument. His experience, well, they weren’t the same. Bemoaning his haphazard braid, he tied the end strands together as it fell back at the nape of his neck. Hair left long and French braid on the crown of his head, the rest of his braid fell down the middle of his head.

Standing in front of the mirror, Felix took in his overall look. He wore shiny patent leather shoes and dark blue pants with a form fitting thin knit, long sleeve black turtleneck. His crimson ring shone at his left side sending a whole new bout of butterflies through his gut. The wedding was last minute, but as with anything with Sylvain, as he had learned, it felt like it was a long time coming—an inevitability, and Felix, for maybe the first time in his life was excited for it.

The knock at the door gave Felix a jump scare, taking him out of his pre-wedding bliss and jamming him right into the jitters. Throwing on the jacket, he flung it around himself, forcing his hands through the arm holes as he moved to the door. Buttoning the suit with one hand, he flung open the door to his quarters.

“I’m here, I’m here. You’re…” Felix’s voice stuck in his throat as he took in his dapper fiancé. Hair, carelessly perfect, vest cutting and hugging every muscle and dip of his chest and torso…

“Are…are you doing anything later?” The uncharacteristically cheeky question was nearly whispered as Felix felt a giddiness well up inside him, taking over and banishing all other feelings of anxiety.

He was going to marry Sylvain.

The sight of Felix all gussied up stole Sylvain's breath away and he let out an audible gasp followed by a shaky exhale as he let his eyes shamelessly wander his very soon-to-be husband's form from head to toe and back up again. When he met the beautiful, fierce amber eyes he so loved, Sylvain smiled and raised a hand to touch Felix's cheek.

"Oh, not much," he said casually. "Just marrying this really hot guy, and then I don't know what."

He took Felix's hand gently in his own, thumb sweeping over his knuckles before landing on the band. A soft, almost shy smile and the faintest hint of pink rose to his cheeks as he gazed down adoringly at his fiancé. "Fe, you clean up... so fucking well. And if we weren't about to get married...I'd take those off you," he added with a wink.

If he had ever done so in his life, he did it now, Felix practically preened at Sylvain’s response and praise. Never one to focus on his appearance for the sake of others, that his husband to be was more than satisfied with his efforts sent a pulse of secret pride through his system.

“I’m glad you like.” The words were soft, any coyness that he aimed for was sorely missed by the sincerity of his words. Clearing his throat, he felt warmth rose to his cheeks. “I’m booked the same, but if you’re not doing anything after…” Felix stepped closer, bringing their combined hands up and placed a soft kiss at Sylvain’s knuckles.

“I’d like to see you in me in that.” Amber eyes looked up from beneath thick, dark lashes. “Or me in you. Whichever. You look incredible, Sylvain.”

Sylvain shuddered at the suggestions and stepped closer, one hand pressing to the small of Felix's back to pull him forward while the other tenderly cupped the sharp line of his jaw. He glanced down at his own clothing, then looked back up with a crooked grin.

"That can probably be arranged...been a while since I had you in me," he said, tone as light as though they were discussing the weather. He brushed a non-existent piece of lint from Felix's shoulder before adding, "I've missed it."

Though he wasn't in the habit of wearing a watch, Sylvain's sense of time remained sharp as ever, and he figured they could steal a moment or two. He dipped his head as he tilted Felix's face up, sealing their lips together in a chaste kiss.

Arching his back as Sylvain’s hand slotted just so at the dip of his back, Felix tilted his head up and met Sylvain’s lips with a soft press. Pulling back after a beat, and then another, Felix nosed up at him.

“We can fix that later.” Ever aware of their impending appointment, Felix snaked his hand up the nape of Sylvain’s neck. Threading his fingers, he lightly tugged at his favored auburn locks as he brought their lips together again. This time, he ran his tongue along the seam of Sylvain’s lips as he sought out more of the man that completed him.

"Later," Sylvain agreed, just a tad breathless as they parted once more. "But I'm hoping that's a promise, future husband."

He punctuated the label with butterflies in his chest and a firm squeeze to Felix's ass that lingered, one large hand cupping a small but supple and pleasingly rounded cheek. He nosed back at Felix, then pressed three tiny kisses to his forehead, eyes shining.

"We don't want to be late for our own wedding, now, do we?"

That was indeed a promise, Felix though as he shook his head, Sylvain’s lips still pressed against his forehead.

“I’ve never been late to anything in my life.” Felix’s cheeks burned as he stepped back, interlacing his fingers with Sylvain’s as he met his gaze. “I’m not about to start now.”

Stepping onward, they retraced the dreadfully similar path to the medical bay, only for this time, to pass the starchiness of the area and arrive out in the verdant central plaza. They were to be married here where they had found each other again. Nothing and no one would stop that.

Sylvain looked around the plaza with a small smile that broadened gradually until he was wearing an honest-to-god grin. He slung an arm around Felix's shoulders, much as he had at their very first meeting--the only difference being that he wasn't met with a scowl, a snarl, and a shove this time. With his free hand, he reached down and tugged nervously at the hem of his vest, clearing his throat.

"Well, here we are," he said softly, turning his head slightly to the right to glance down at his breathtakingly gorgeous fiancé. "You ready for this, Fe? I am. Never thought I would be, but..."

Sylvain's words trailed off and he nuzzled his cheek into Felix's tightly-wound braid, his contented sigh puffing out a few loose strands of dark hair.

In the quiet Sylvain's positioning afforded him, Felix was allowed a moment of reflection. Did he ever think he would be married? Never. It just wasn't in the cards for him. There was never to be anyone that would see him and wish to be tethered to the good and the bad and the prickly. Yet here he was—more in love than he could ever hope to be with a person that saw him for all he was and could be. How ever much a lifeline Sylvain called Felix, Sylvain offered the same deft hand to Felix.

"...But," Felix continued, exhaling a labored breath as he swallowed more of his nervous energy, "here we are. Just you and me." Felix nuzzled back against Sylvain, ambivalent of the eyes that followed their path or watched now. He lifted their tightly intertwined fingers as he pressed a purposeful kiss to their nearly white knuckles. Eyes shining, Felix hadn't realized the strength of the emotions that now filled him.

"Ready if you are."

Sylvain nodded and took a deep breath, scanning the courtyard once more for a brief headcount. He noted with some relief that neither his brother nor father were in attendance, though it was quickly replaced with a vague uneasiness; he knew they were both around somewhere.

"At least they're not here," he murmured softly. "But damn, Fe, look at this turnout!"

It seemed as though the entire base had shown up to celebrate with them: Lorenz, looking prissy and disapproving as always; Linhardt, practically falling asleep in his seat; and, what was perhaps the most gratifying sight of all, Dorothea and Edelgard sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

Sylvain drew a long, slow breath and bounced nervously on the balls of his feet, clutching Felix's hand.

"All these people, Fe...here, for us."

Felix swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat as a surprising mixture of nervousness and gratitude overcame him. To think that these people, mixed company in social gatherings across all base personnel, to think they would deign to spend their time celebrating them.

"Yeah," he stuttered out, "I guess they are."

Felix's eyes darted around the, admittedly, crowded courtyard scanning all those in attendance. His features softened for a moment as he saw a lovely rose and lavender seated next to each other. Though, that he didn't see Dimitri nor Miklan...Felix's countenance fell. Of course attendance wasn't mandatory but he thought he had pleaded his case well enough with Miklan, reaching some sort of a tenuous truce or understanding at the very least.

But Dima?

The man was nowhere to be seen. Felix had readily assumed he would be present. Besides Sylvain, Dimitri was the closest thing to family Felix had left in the world. And that he wasn't there...hurt.

As if sensing Felix's dismay, Sylvain tugged the smaller man even closer to his side as they made their way to the center of the pavilion. He kept his mouth firmly aligned in a smile, though he was becoming increasingly concerned, both at Felix's reaction to the crowd and the noted lack of their one-time third party.

"It's okay," he soothed under his breath, rubbing his thumb across the back of his fiancé's hand in slow, small circles. "I'm sure he'll be here. People like to show up fashionably late to things, after all."

Sylvain himself wasn't entirely convinced that was the case, but there was no point in worrying about it now. When they reached their destination, he took Felix's other hand in his own and turned to face him full-on with a warm smile meant only for them.

He?

Felix looked up questioningly at Sylvain's answer from nowhere. In the scant moment between them, an understanding came over him that should not have surprised him as much as it did. His fiancé knew him better than anyone. Of course Sylvain would know the worry and concern in his heart. That knowledge alone, like so many times before, served as a balm to his worried heart.

Gripping tightly at his hand, Felix nodded as they stepped onwards to the first row, stopping at the base's snoozing minister.

"Lin," Felix nudged at his chair leg, "you got two grooms here."

Linhardt was jarred from his slumber and slowly blinked large, sleepy blue eyes up at the pair. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn and leisurely rose to his feet, expression thoroughly unapologetic.

"Of course," he said, smoothing his hands down the front of his dark green suit jacket. He cracked his neck and sighed, not out of frustration but contentment. While he wasn't necessarily one for the spotlight, Linhardt was perfectly happy to help the pair yet again; he found them fascinating, like a preserved specimen or a set of particularly unruly animals at a zoo.

He made his way to the small pergola in the center of the courtyard and took his place at the podium, glancing at the guests. It was quite the turnout indeed--more than Linhardt had ever seen at the smattering of other weddings he'd officiated on the base, and he chalked it up to the drama and gossip that seemed to constantly surround the happy couple.

Sylvain gripped Felix's hand tightly and led him forward, keeping his eyes trained on his fiancé and only his fiancé. It occurred to him how strange it was to be getting married, as someone who had been staunchly commitment-phobic until Felix had suddenly appeared in his life and turned everything upside down, undeniably for the better.

"Love you, Fe," he murmured softly, unable to resist planting a tiny kiss on his forehead.

Felix walked slowly to the center with Sylvain, their grip never faltering. Almost as if breathing, he leaned his forehead naturally in, closing his eyes in contentment as Sylvain pressed a kiss just below his hairline.

"Love you back," he answered as his eyes fluttered open, treated with the sight of Sylvain's own stark gaze.

Even after so long and so much, Felix still felt his cheeks warm under his stare before turning his attention to the mellow, yet melodic voice of the heretofore comatose Linhardt. With his heart as full as it felt, he could deal with the disappointment of Dimitri and Miklan not showing. It would take some time, but with Sylvain at his side, he had all the family he truly needed. They both did.

"Dearly beloved," Linhardt began to drawl in his soft, soothing voice.

Sylvain heard only half of the sentence; as soon as the words left the green-haired man's mouth, the world faded away and all that was left was Felix. He listened with half an ear as the officiant spoke of their initial assignment and how they'd fought like rats; all the battles; how they'd nearly lost one another...

He swallowed hard and squeezed Felix's hands, a light flush rising to his own face. Despite often being the center of attention, he didn't care of being put on display and tried to ignore the feeling of dozens of sets of eyes burning into him. He stroked his thumb over the back of Felix's hand before lacing their fingers together, rings clinking, and smiled broadly.