philancer | Inbox: Abraxas

So.

What are the chances you've seen a monster with a mouth the size of a ravine before?

[ There's a brief pause when Claude thinks about how that sounds out of nowhere, so maybe an attempt at reassurance - ]

It didn't eat us, for the record.

[ Close enough. ]

I'm pretty sure I had dinner with one once. I definitely didn't let it eat me either.

...Do I want to know why you're asking?

Edited 2022-09-26 12:40 (UTC)

[ It's a good thing he has infinite practice keeping a straight face because he definitely needs it when that reply comes back. ]

Well, I'm glad you made it through that ordeal. Sounds like it must've been a struggle.

There's a ravine that appeared, or seems to have appeared, on our way here since it wasn't on any of the military's maps. We investigated it on the way back, and let's just say there WAS something lurking in there after all.

You have no idea.

[ And you probably really don't want to. ]

...is it STILL lurking in there or did you deal with it?

Wait, you weren't exaggerating were you? This thing's MOUTH was the size of an actual ravine? That would make the entirety of it at least mountain-sized Claude.

...I don't think you packed enough arrows. I'm not sure there ARE enough arrows for that.

[ He doesn't. Also, it's becoming clear he might have miscalculated something else about sharing this information. ]

Sylvain. We're all okay, I promise. The mouth being the size of the ravine might've been a slight exaggeration, but whatever it is - it's definitely the size of multiple demonic beasts, if I had to guess.

It's still there in the ravine. We, uh - [ hm ] - fed it a different monster to see what'd happen. Let's just say what resulted was a convincing enough reason to keep moving.

I knew we should have sent Petra with you just in case.

Please stop playing with things that probably want to eat you, Claude?

Also, no, I have definitely not seen anything like that and I am definitely going to be watching to make sure I don't thanks.

What, so more than one of us could've been eaten? Pass on that. But look, we weren't playing! It was an important experiment. The extra important part being that there's a 100% chance monsters hanging out in ravines here do want to eat whatever passes by.

...Maybe something to keep in mind when walking around the desert by Cadens, though. Just in case.

Clearly you haven't been hunting with Petra lately. Pretty sure she'd do the eating.

...No, not literally. Although...

[ No, he doesn't want that mental image in his head, actually. Nevermind. ]

I haven't actually wandered outside the city much yet. Too much to explore inside of it, still. Plus, it wasn't somewhere I wanted to venture until I could get a lance here. Or at least some sort of weapon.

I think Petra's more equipped than either one of us when it comes to anything to be hunted, yes. But in terms of something hunting us? I can't say I'm very eager to repeat this, safety in numbers or not.

I didn't do much wandering without a weapon either, and that also seems like it was also a good plan on all our parts. The others have told me that besides monsters - for the most part not canyon-sized like whatever this was, thankfully - there's plenty of bandits around. Apparently they like to attack supply caravans, so that's something else just like old times.

[ Well - ]

Assuming that much was also the same for you, that is.

Yeah, I've fought more than my fair share, to be sure. Maybe something we can look into, once things from this attack calms down. If it does. I hope it does, anyway.

How long till you reach Libertas? I think I'm a few days behind you still.

You and me both.

[ In regards to things calming down, and if only. His faith in that actually happening is low, and Claude is pretty sure he doesn't have to voice it aloud (or in the equivalent) to confirm both of them are thinking the same thing. ]

We're also a few days out if I had to guess. There was a bit of a delay in getting the meeting point with Solvunn because of the ravine and, well. Various monsters deciding to be our welcoming back committee certainly added time we weren't planning on. It shouldn't be too much longer now so long as the roads cooperate.

[ There's a substantial silence following where it might seem like that was all he had to say. In reality, Claude's contemplating this, that, and the other. And then: ]

I know Cadens is dreadfully boring without me, but don't get into too much trouble on your own.

I'm on my way to Libertas, actually.

[ The thought comes accompanied by a sheepish sort of confession. ]

Cadens really WAS dreadfully boring without you. At least in Libertas, I might be able to be useful to someone.

[ That. That is - huh. He expected a joke or some other variety of teasing back instead of what he gets, and Claude stares at the handwriting until it disappears. Certainly something to think about, but maybe later. ]

In that case, don't get into too much trouble in Libertas. Actual trouble. You'll be useful, that I don't doubt. But that means don't burn yourself out there either.

Otherwise Cadens will be out of luck for any trouble from either of us once I'm back, and then what?

They might actually like that, you know.

[ There is the sense of playful teasing that Claude was no doubt expecting. ]

But either way, I make no promises. Trouble DOES love to find me, after all. I can't help how attractive I am.

[ It's expected, but now he's going to (mostly) ignore it. ]

To be clear, which part: the lack of trouble or us teaming up to cause it?

[ Come on, Claude, you know it's true. You can't even deny it. ]

Probably the former. But that's okay, we'll grow on them enough that it will be the latter eventually.

[ Where's the option to not incriminate himself?? ]

Maybe if we're lucky eventually will be sooner rather than later. Somewhere Seteth's getting a headache and has no idea why, but Teach would support us if he knew. Or join in, which might be even better.

[ As if he'd ever give you an out like that. It's like you don't know him at all. ]

Yeah from what I could tell, she did delight in annoying him too, so I definitely think she'd be in on it.

One day we should probably sit down and figure out the weirdness that is the Professor. I haven't even thought to ask Petra about it. Have you?

[ LOOK - ]

No, I haven't. But that's only because she volunteered that information first, and also remembers Teach as 'she' so it seems I'm the odd one out.

[ And there's more. Gods, he doesn't want to talk about this, but this is his own fault, isn't it? Claude takes a minute to sort through what he can share and what might be better coming from Petra herself. There's one part he can. ]

Besides that, Petra told me the Empire marched to Derdriu, we fought, and I surrendered. She thought I'd also... come from there, for lack of a better way to put it.

They... what.

[ Okay but what the actual hell? As if the weird thing with the Professor weren't confusing enough. ]

That sounds... unlike you. Unless things really went to shit THAT badly. Although considering they likely would have had to go through us to get to you...

Maybe. Depending on what the situation was, it wouldn't be that difficult to catch the Alliance off guard, so that could've been part of it.

[ Probably not a secret, he thinks, given how the Alliance is organized so pointedly differently than either the Empire or the Kingdom. That's even before the struggle of getting the Roundtable to align without arguing for hours upon hours first. Sylvain has a point, though - where does the Kingdom factor into this? ]

I didn't ask about Faerghus. But if we're being realistic in what that means from a strategy standpoint: wouldn't you rather take out the weaker nation first?

[ He pauses to think about that, but then shakes his head, even if Claude can't see it. ]

Not if it would come with the high risk of being flanked by the stronger one and having your army caught between two enemies. There's no way Dimitri would have let an opportunity like that pass. [ He's pretty single-minded in his goals, even if they are all focused on vengeance. ]

Of course, that's assuming Dimitri isn't different, too. I think? [ This makes his head hurt. ]

Assuming the Kingdom would've come to our aid, which - without knowing what happened, might've been a big ask. Or bigger than usual, anyway. [ Or had he even asked at all? And is Sylvain implying the Kingdom would have responded to such a request? Curious, all of it. ] Because as you said, why take the risk otherwise?

Maybe - just to make it even more fun - none of us are the same. Except that can't be true, since I think the... [ the handwriting trails off for a moment, because what's even the best way to put this - ] Dimitri we know is... similar.

Look, I have a feeling Edelgarde's idea of 'risk' is very different from what Dimitri would have considered risk. If he'd known? He would have come. It wouldn't have been that big an ask. [ Which makes him hesitate a moment, recalling something else, something he'd wanted to ask before but hadn't. ]

We sent messengers, you know. Before Gronder. To meet with you, to discuss an alliance on that field to stop the Empire from moving any further. The messengers were found the morning of the battle with their throats slit. Dimitri said your answer was pretty clear but the Professor was more inclined to believe the Empire might have stopped them from reaching you at all. I'm more inclined to believe her, considering you never struck me as the slitting throats kind of person, but... WOULD you have considered it?

[ He wondered how differently that day would play out, if the Alliance and Kingdom could stand united against the Empire's conquest? Wishful thinking on his part, he knows, but he can't help but wonder.

There's a lot of telling information in that pause and if this messenger can figure out how to convey Sylvain's deep, deep sigh, Claude sure will get that reaction. ] You mean 'fucked up and obsessed with vengeance beyond all reason'?

That's one way of describing him, yes.

[ He'll let that go by with that equivocal response as Sylvain knows Dimitri far better than he does. Claude can't exactly contradict that from what he saw of Dimitri at Gronder, but agreeing beyond that feels like stepping onto treacherous ground of what he hasn't shared.

Far easier to respond to that first than the rest of what Sylvain's said. Something startling, not only because of the idea of the Kingdom reaching out after all but somehow the Alliance - or rather him, specifically - blamed for the demise of those messengers. Then there's the matter of being asked if that's something he would do, and for a fleeting moment Claude can't help being affronted. But the feeling passes as quickly as it came with a bitter truth left in its wake: it was war. What reason did they have to believe he wouldn't? ]

As far as I knew, the Kingdom fell when Cornelia claimed power after Dimitri's execution. None of us knew he was alive until he appeared at Gronder. And I never received any messengers, so I haven't the slightest what happened to them.

You're right, though. If anything, I would've used poison though that would've been a gamble of whether they made it back to you first since not even I'm omniscient enough to predict travel delays.

[ Sylvain's no stranger to treading dubious ground when it comes to Dimitri. Although Felix has always been much worse. The hazard of growing up as childhood friends, rather than the enforced roles of liege and vassal. ]

Yeah, Cornelia is a whole different issue, I suppose. Although I think the rest of the Kingdom would argue that any of us fell. Just disagreed strongly over whose head should hold the crown. I'd think the Alliance, at least, would understand such arguments - even if not over the same topic.

[ He might not know as much about Alliance politics as he does his own, but the impression he's always gotten was that there was little they ever agreed on. Or if they did, only after a great deal of yelling. And the occasional bloodshed. Honestly, Sylvain's not sure how anyone kept any of them in line. He doesn't envy Claude in the least.

He can't help but scoff at Claude's confirmation over killing methods, at least. Yeah, poison does seem far more likely. Or, if he were trying to make a statement, something very public and pointed where there could be no room for guessing or assumptions in his answer.

...He should probably be a little concerned over the fact that he can guess at this in the first place. ]

I meant confirmation on whether you would have been open to the possibility joining us on that field, instead of facing against us both.

[ There's a lot to unpack in that first block of handwriting that appears - but most of all that Sylvain thinks the Kingdom disagrees about it falling. Does that mean things are different from what he knows? Were things not as they seemed with Cornelia in charge? Did the surveillance reports he'd received now and then not tell the full story of what happened in Faerghus?

Interesting. ]

You mean like the lords being led by someone at least a couple of decades younger than basically all of them? Don't worry, they loved it.

[ The sarcasm is real. They'd cooperated enough in the end and that's what Claude tries to remind himself of whenever thinking about the lords. Well, minus Holst. They've always gotten along and that helped.

But that still leaves Sylvain's next comment, and that is something Claude wants to avoid. The thought of there being three sides all along instead of just the Alliance, the Empire, and the sudden appearance and equally abrupt end of the Kingdom's continent at Gronder: it's enough to give him a headache if he thinks about it for too long. There's just no end to the what ifs. ]

I wouldn't have necessarily said no to an alliance. [ That handwriiting is sent slowly, less to draw out an answer than to choose each word very, very carefully. ] It would've all depended on how it was asked and what it would've meant, I suppose.

[ It's amazing how much sarcasm can be conveyed in a message like this. Or maybe he's just coming to know Claude very well. ]

I guess that's fair. I was mostly thinking it meant that it might keep the Empire from traipsing their feet all over both our territories, but I know there's more to it than that.

[ Does that mean the Kingdom was the Empire's target more so than the Alliance in what Sylvain knows to be true compared to what he does? That's even more interesting as he considers it. Not something for right now, however; it's not the kind of thing he'd write in a letter so this is no different. And when in doubt, yank the subject back from the brink of being far too serious instead. ]

Well, you know. If things really became bleak, there was always the option of stationing Lorenz at the bridge of Myrddin and he would've blustered them back into submission. I'm a little sad I didn't think of that earlier, actually. That could've been a far more effective defense than just about any other strategy I had.

[ Sylvain just scoffs at that. ]

Just so Edelgarde didn't take inspiration from that and send Ferdinand out with a similar strategy. Then again, that wouldn't work the same at all. He was far easier to distract than Lorenz.

[ They've gotten wildly off-topic now, but at least it's been nicely distracting in the meantime. Sylvain's grateful for anything to keep his mind off of what they might find in Libertas upon arrival. But he can already see the smoke rising over the horizon and suspects they'll arrive before sundown. ]

Will you be heading back to Cadens or Libertas on your return trip?

Well, maybe they could've had a stalemate. They would've been too busy scolding each other about the decorum of nobility and how it should be best applied, or whatever else their tea conversations used to be about.

[ Among other things. He might've overheard this a time or two while eavesdropping which resulted in his eyes nearly rolling out of his head. Still entertaining, and so is the opportunity to be flippant once more. ]

This specific portal's supposed to bringing us to Cadens so most likely there. Unless you're suffering deeply from the deprivation of my delightful company, and then it could be Libertas.

You cannot conceive the depths of my suffering right now, Claude.

[ Dramatic much? ]

You're right, I absolutely can't fathom what a void that must be. If only there was a colorful enough description or two for it.

I'd regale you with many a verbose description but honestly I've been in the saddle enough days now that my ass hurts too much and I just don't give a damn.

[ That response, at least, is the first thing that gets him to laugh in what feels like days. And it's relatable, because - ]

You know, fair, since we're both suffering from that. Can't say I missed this about traveling by horseback, including the days on end of it part, but flying's rather out of the equation these days. Hopefully you'll make it to Libertas soon enough and be cured of it.

There's still a trip back at some ominous point in my future, but hopefully I've recovered enough to be optimistic about it again by then.

Look, just keep in touch, okay? Then I can at least not worry about the ground literally opening up and eating you.

Careful, if you leave it open-ended like that I might just take it as free rein to bother you whenever I feel like it.

In all seriousness, I will as long as you do the same while in Libertas. Don't think I'm above annoying you from afar, as mentioned, because I'm absolutely not.

And if that's exactly what I'd like?

Don't worry, I'd never doubt something like that.

Have I got some good news for you then. Still contingent on you staying in one piece, however, so keep that in mind. I'll do the same.

You'd better. I'm not the one out there tempting things to eat me.

Well. Not at the moment, anyway.

[ If there's such a thing as a read receipt for the mind writing or a facepalm emoji - not that either one of them know what those are - it'd be a good time for one or the other. Maybe both.

But even the mental eye roll and deep sigh for now won't keep him from still bothering Sylvain now and then over the rest of the travel time, though. A promise is a promise. ]

[ooc: continued from here]

[ Jesper smirks knowingly back when Sylvain's voice goes husky, the promise of what they both suspected was coming in his eyes. He has never had a problem with distracting himself with sex, it's his favorite distraction, especially as it's not as harmful as gambling or violence. He's wanted the man since the moment he saw him and did plan on maybe leading up to this someday. More flirting or bonding, a lot of innuendo, they moved that way during the playful banter at the hot springs, and he doesn't mind building toward something fun. But he really has no patience at the moment. They understand one another very well.

It's telling that he doesn't even bother to talk back or joke, Jesper simply leans into the kiss with a hungry moan. The crashing of their lips together, the burning shoot of lust through him, gives him exactly what he needs. He opens his mouth immediately and draws Sylvain into a deeper kiss, his hands unable to stop moving. Through Sylvain's red hair, over his shoulders, down his chest, under his shirt to run hot fingers over his bare skin. ]

Saints. [ His head drops back against the door heavily when he needs to breathe. ] Take off your clothes or I'm going to tear them off you.

[ This is no joke, Jesper is worked up and he has the ability to melt Sylvain's clothes off his body like it's nothing. ]

[ He gives a breathless chuckle when Jesper's head thuds back against the door behind him, taking a moment to catch his own breath. His own eyes are dark and hooded as he smiles, having thoroughly enjoyed the slide of Jesper's hands over his torso, already craving more of that. And to be able to return the favor in turn.

His smirk only deepens at that demand, nipping at Jesper's lower lip before pulling back just enough to start unbuttoning the plain white shirt he wears, shrugging out of that and the deep blue jacket he often wears here these days. ]

If I had more where this one came from, I might take you up on that dare, just because it sounds exceedingly hot. But it's also a very one-sided demand here and I think you're wearing too much, as well.

[ Jesper may be on the edge of desperation at the moment but he can always find reasons to laugh through it, and considering he's getting what he needs, he can find some space for humor and life outside of that pulse inside him. He chuckles and immediately puts his hands on Sylvain's chest. His broad and beautiful chest. ]

If it helps, I can put your clothes magically back together after. A little less hot, but more pragmatic.

[ Jesper is already shucking off his green jacket, it's actually seen better days considering he's been hiding in the streets, so he'll have to clean it up once most of this is past. He frankly has too many layers for a desert, a gold vest over a black shirt, but he cares about looking good more than most things. He drops all of it hastily, he sees no need to waste time. He's very long and lean.

He kisses Sylvain deeply again, hands caressing over his newly bared skin, and this time when he breaks to breathe, he drops right to his knees, still framed between Sylvain's body and the door. ]

Do you want me to show you?

[ Sylvain takes advantage of that kiss, a low groan of appreciation muffled against Jesper’s lips as he lets his own hands begin to roam and explore. Over Jesper’s lean torso, fingertips tracing along ribs and muscle, even as he relishes the man’s caress on his own skin. It sends a shiver of anticipation sliding down his spine as he makes a quiet, eager sound against Jesper’s lips.

And then Jesper pulls back for air and… drops right to his fucking knees in front of him and Sylvain can’t quite bite back the husky curse that slips free from his kiss-reddened lips. ]

Goddess. You have no right to look as good right now as you do. [ He braces a hand against the door over Jesper’s head, watching him with a dark, hungry gaze. ]

I can think of a lot of things I’d like you to show me at the moment and absolutely none of them include clothes.

[ The high of lust is always good for him but it feels even better at the moment, like a genuine drug, and that could be Sylvain just as much as it is their affliction. It's not as if wanting him is new, quite the opposite. He already suspected that the moment they kissed it would only be a matter of time before clothes would be thrown off, and it's exactly as he wanted. Jesper never does anything in half measures. He wants it all. ]

Trust me, then.

[ Jesper looks at him with a smirk and Saints if he doesn't look just as good the way he is drinking Jesper in. His hands go for Sylvain's pants and his fingers curl into the fabric and while a rip would be satisfying, they instead seem to melt into his hands as if they're made of silk and liquid, all of it dripping away. To prove that he can be trusted, Jesper simply puts the strange cloth soup on the ground and just as easily it regrows, threading together, abandoned on the ground as if it was removed the right way.

He really is talented in more ways than one. He arches an eyebrow playfully after that but he is far more interested in his prize. Showing off is well and good but Jesper sighs, nosing at Sylvain's cock right away, breathing in the desire for it. His hands firmly hold Sylvain's hips and he runs his tongue and lips down the length of him. ]

[ This is more like the highs he's accustomed to chasing, even if this one has a flavor completely unique to everything that is Jesper. His lips quirk at the other man's statement, head inclining slightly in agreement. ]

That's probably a terrible idea on both our parts, but I do.

[ Although his eyes go wide at Jesper's little trick, blinking down at the pile of clothes now discarded on the ground, having not had to step out of them at all. ] Goddess. That's weird. Useful, but weird.

[ He might have had more to say on the matter or, worse, questions, but Jesper presses his advantage and proves his distraction techniques are more than successful. So much so that Sylvain makes a choked sound, forehead thudding forward to thump against the door over Jesper's head - quite possibly the only thing holding him upright right now. A visible shiver slips down his spine as his cock jerks at the contact, another hushed sound escaping him at the first heated slide of Jesper's lips and tongue on sensitive skin. He reaches down with his free hand, tangling fingers in Jesper's hair - not pulling or guiding, just needing to be able to hold on to him.

Goddess, why did they wait so long to do this again? ]

Shit.

[ Transmutation is definitely strange to look at, especially when it isn't clear what exactly is happening, but they can talk about it later. Much later. Jesper's far too busy taking advantage of Sylvain's very sudden nudity to think about anything else. Now that he's getting exactly what he wants, he's letting the familiarity wash over him, the perfect feeling of lust mingled with confidence. Jesper gets completely lost in sex, enjoying how easy it is to focus on the taste and sounds of his lover and let the rest of the world fall away.

Jesper laughs quietly when he hears that thunk on the door, knowing what it is, his mouth still traveling over Sylvain's cock. He can be a real tease when he wants to be, but right then he just wants to drown in Sylvain. His hand wraps around him at the base to hold him steady. ]

Pull the hair all you want. [ Jesper kisses the tip and glances up for a quick wink. ] Gag reflex isn't a thing.

[ Jesper loves this too much to have any limitations on either of their pleasure. That's how simple it became to him after quite a lot of experience. There is a playfulness in his tone but he wastes no more time. He takes Sylvain into his mouth and the only reason he goes slow is to enjoy it, humming once he's closed over the head and curling his tongue along the underside. ]

[ That admission gets a deep, raspy groan from Sylvain as his eyes slam close in realization. That grip in Jesper's hair tightens for a moment, but he lets Jesper set his pace before taking him up on that offer. ]

Fuck. I'm really regretting not suggesting we try this the last time we got naked together. [ Because trust him, it had certainly been a consideration at the time.

But as Jesper settles into it, he does test what the other man is comfortable with. Still testing to see with Jesper is more comfortable with control or surrendering - or what he might need in the moment. Sylvain is accustomed to adjusting accordingly and he's getting the sense Jesper might be, too. Which can be a bit of a conundrum sometimes when you put two of them together like this, but Sylvain thinks he can make it work easily enough. Especially with the state he found Jesper in earlier and how eagerly he'd sunk into this.

So he's watchful as his fingers tighten their grip, maneuvering Jesper's head back a little more as his hips rock forward, testing his words as he thrusts a little deeper into the glorious wet heat of the other man's mouth. ]

[ Jesper makes a noise that is probably agreement about them having done this sooner, especially considering it would have been very naughty (and sexy) if they hooked up at the hot springs. He is no stranger to the thrill of public locations. That will come up as they adjust to being lovers, since Jesper has no plans on letting this delicious man go regardless of the problematic reasons it began. It simply moved up the timetable of when they'd hook up. No harm in that.

He informed Sylvain about his lack of a gag reflex because he wants it to be tested out. He wants the sharp grip of fingers in his hair to hold him still and for Sylvain to take advantage. He is so eager as he lets Sylvain take charge of his head and he moans around him when he slides in, deeper and deeper. Jesper is a man of his word, his throat is soft and his mouth hot around him, putting his free hand on Sylvain's ass and squeezing, pulling him forward in shameless encouragement.

The hand on his cock rewards every thrust forward by stroking him a little faster than his movement. Jesper sucks in his lips as a tighter suction on Sylvain's head ever time he pulls back for extra sensation. He knows what he's doing and drops his hand from Sylvain's ass to undo his own pants and slip inside to touch himself. ]

[ It would be all too easy to lose himself in that decadent wet heat completely, chasing the pleasure that Jesper has so much expertise in offering. Except he hasn’t forgotten how they got here and has no intention of losing his head when he wants to focus on Jesper just as much. So he doesn’t miss when the other man’s hand falls away from him, vanishing lower, and its enough to drag his dark gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of Jesper’s pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. ]

No. [ There’s a hint of hoarse breathlessness in his tone, the strain from gathering his focus enough to speak when another slide of Jesper’s tongue has him wanting to moan instead. He fixes a dark gaze on Jesper’s face, lips twitching into a sardonic smirk as he holds his gaze, anticipation and hunger written in his expression. ] Hands off. Tonight that belongs to me. And when you come, it will be because I told you to.

[ Jesper's gaze flicks up to Sylvain's when he speaks and he'll see that same spark of hunger in them. The wave of lust that creates only makes him harder but he obeys without hesitation. If that's the way Sylvain wants to play it, he's all in. He knows he makes a good image and Sylvain's every movement and sound is doing it for him. There are few things better than the high of sex, but every detail of it he loves. But he's not going to make it easy for him to do anything other than give in.

He smiles around him and then goes right back only this time he decides to be mean. Jesper moves both of his hands to Sylvain's ass to hold him there and then he goes aggressive on him. He bobs his head forward and effortlessly takes Sylvain's cock all the way to the back of his throat, not ending it there but starting his own pace in and out, relentless and confident. ]

Fuck.

[ It's official, Jesper is way too good at this. Not that he's complaining, but it's clear to see he's going to have his hands full. Not that he minds that in the least. He sees that smile the moment before Jesper takes him deep and he can feel the way his throat works around the tip of him, ripping a choked-off moan from his lips as his hips rock him deeper. The hands on his ass draw him in but he's still braced against the door so he manages to pull back a little, his fingers still gripping in Jesper's hair as he doesn't let the man chase him. Smirking, he gives a chuckle as he drinks in his face before taking a step back, even though his cock aches at the denial. ]

Cocky bastard. Get up. As pretty as you are on your knees, I can't reach enough of you down there. And I have a perfectly comfortable bed to take advantage of.

[ Jesper outright whines when Sylvain pulls his prize away but he is playing the obedient role tonight so he lets him go. He does give him a pretty pout but gray eyes are amused as he stands back up. Jesper takes a moment to look over his beautiful bare body, having gotten rid of his clothes and then gotten distracted, sighing in open appreciation. ]

Saints, you're gorgeous.

[ Everything about him is pretty. Jesper could spend a lot of time covering all of his perfect skin with his mouth and he is considering it, although that is more for a lazy exploration round than the needy desire setting him aflame. He leans back against the door and grabs Sylvain's hips, pulling him firmly against him, tilting his head back to look up at him. He licks his lips. ]

Or you could fuck me right here.

[ He rocks his still clothed hips forward into him, his pants undone but on. ]

I would have let you fuck me against that wall, love.

[ When Sylvain manhandled him off to the side and pushed him hard. When he put his knee between Jesper's thighs to distract him. He means it too, there's no mistaking the knowing smirk. ]

[ That gets a throaty chuckle from him as he slides one of his thighs between Jesper’s legs once more, taking advantage of the friction from the fabric still between them. Sylvain is muscled and toned all over, something not always obvious when he’s dressed or in his armor. But he’s had years to hone himself into a weapon and it shows. He’s also got a few nasty scars from some past battles, although not as terrible looking as they could be, thanks to the efforts of the healers he knows. ]

I did notice you liked that. [ He gives a faint smirk as he slides his hands up along Jesper’s sides, pushing him back against the door once more. His thigh grinds up against Jesper, teasing him. ] Was it the manhandling, the chance of being caught like that, or a little of both?

[ Jesper groans when he puts his thigh there again, hard as a rock himself and seeking friction but rubbing himself against it. Jesper is very thin himself but compact, lean muscle the only thing on his skinny bones. He doesn't really have many scars himself, his extraordinary good luck usually keeping him out of harm's way, outside of the harm he does to himself. In all the fights he's had and close calls, it's usually him internally injured, all those years refusing to use his abilities. Now he does them to melt clothes off a hot man. An excellent choice.

His breath catches when Sylvain pushes him again and he runs his hands over his chest, scratching lightly, curling a hand into Sylvain's bright red hair. Sylvain already knew that it turned him on before, considering he got him out of his gambling obsession with a well-timed seduction. ]

Both. Sometimes I crave being pushed around.

[ He suspects Sylvain may be like him, someone easy to adapt to whoever is with him, open to most things. Jesper sees no reason not to be open about what he desires, what he likes. Right now, he does want to be pushed around. Maybe to get out of his head and stop obsessing over what he can't change, maybe because it's a guaranteed way to chase something just out of reach.

He surges up to kiss Sylvain, all passion and hunger again, wanting nothing more than to hear the race of his own heart, the breath knocked out of him, not come up for air until spots are in front of his eyes. He wants and wants and wants. ]

[ The feeling of nails raking lightly against his scalp as Jesper tangles fingers in his hair gets a visible shiver from Sylvain and a soft hiss of enjoyment a moment before he kisses him back, hungry and demanding. He keeps him pinned there against the door as he lets his own fingers roam this time, exploring and teasing his way along heated skin, his own now flushing with arousal.

He’s achingly erect after Jesper’s efforts and he can feel how hard the other man is as well as he shifts in against him, teasing him with that friction. One hand slides down the slim planes of Jesper’s stomach, sliding the remaining fabric away so he can curl fingers around the man’s cock, giving him a slow, lazy stroke, even as he nips roughly at his lower lip. ]

Is that what you’re craving tonight, Jesper? To be pushed around? [ Sylvain watches his face with a dark, hooded gaze, giving his cock another torturously languorous stroke, drawing out the sensation. Wanting to see what reactions he can draw from the other man with differing approaches. ]

[ This is exactly what he needs and his lips are busy so all he can do is think yes, yes, yes as Sylvain pins him with his weight, whimpering against his mouth as his fingers move down and he knows he's about to be touched. Jesper pulls out of the kiss when Sylvain touches him, his head knocking back on the door with a loud bump, sucking in a ragged breath. He feels a shoot of lightning up his spine and he gets a moment of dizziness from it, shuddering. ]

Yes, I want you to fuck the thought right out of my head. And then I want to do the same to you until neither of us can move.

[ It really would solve his problem, at least for a little while, of wanting to crawl his way back to the cards and dice. If Sylvain's mouth is on him and they're still losing their minds to each other, it spares him time. If he aches all over from sex, it'll make him focus on that instead. It's perfect. He caresses Sylvain's nipples since they're there and pretty and locks eyes with him. ]

Do you have anything? [ If no that puts a damper on things but it doesn't mean the end either. ]

[ Another soft groan and the way his cock jerks between them is probably pretty clear proof that he is here for all of those suggestions. One more teasing stroke before Sylvain steps back abruptly, depriving them both - even though fucking him against the door really is tempting. Maybe they’ll try that later. ]

What a silly question. [ He flashes a smirk at Jesper before he heads for the small chest of drawers next to his bed. He opens the top drawer and retrieves a small dark bottle. ] Lose the rest of your clothes. Since I don’t yet know that handy magic trick of yours.

[ They can always go back to a seedy street another time in the middle of the night. Who knows. Jesper moans and he likes a little roughness with a dry hand, not for the entire thing, but for stimulation yes. It is a silly question but he's relieved all the same, he really means it when he says what he wants. He wants to be split in two, he wants that cock he lavished with his mouth inside of him.

He does want the door but he follows Sylvain to the bed, stripping as he goes. He is very quick about it, eager, pushing his clothes gingerly over his hardness and kicking shoes off before making it to the bed. Jesper flops onto it and makes a big show over showing off his body, confident and cocky for a reason. He then wraps a hand around himself and lazily strokes, gaze moving over Sylvain's body. ]

How do you want me, love? Move me.

[ He's already admitted to the hotness at the manhandling so when he stretches there is a challenge to a raised brow at him. Jesper wants to be pushed around as he said, he wants Sylvain to put his hands on him and take what he desires. ]

[ He has every reason to be confident and cocky - he’s fucking gorgeous. Sylvain doesn’t even bother to hide the way he drinks in the sight of him, eyes hungrily raking over every beautiful inch. Although he arches an eyebrow as Jesper reaches down to start stroking himself again. ]

What did I tell you about that?

[ He tosses the bottle at Jesper, at the very least giving him something to do with his wandering hands as he, too, crosses back over to the bed. He presses a knee down into the mattress between Jesper’s legs so he can crouch over him, hands sliding up the man’s thighs, then his hips, then higher, until he can push Jesper’s arms up and pin his wrists to either side of his head as he smirks down at him. ]

I want you in so many different ways that it’s a downright struggle to decide where to start. But I think like this is winning. I want to see every reaction, every emotion, play out across this gorgeous face of yours. I want nothing muffling ever moan and whimper I wring free of your lips.

[ Lips he bends down to capture once more as he keeps Jesper’s wrists pinned to the mattress. The only point of contact except for Sylvain’s mouth on his. ]

[ Jesper enjoys the attention, glowing under it, even if he knows he is attractive he still likes to be looked at. He has a feeling Sylvain is made in the same mold so he's openly appreciate the same way. His muscles are outrageous, he could trace every one of them with his tongue, he plans on doing exactly that. Jesper's reply to Sylvain warning him is a cheeky smile; he is testing his authority because he likes being put under his lover's control. He needs that tonight, he wants the power out of his hands, to feel helpless in a way that gives pleasures.

He catches the bottle and puts it next to him for easy access, spreading his legs when Sylvain slips between them and longing for touching him. It has been a few seconds and he is dying for it. Jesper's breath catches when Sylvain pins him to the bed and he openly groans, pushing his hands up just to feel how good that force is against him. He loves being trapped and arches his hips up against him, craving that friction. ]

Yes, you can have all of it, you can have everything, Sylvain. Just please give it to me.

[ Jesper's voice is raspy as he begs without hesitation, lifting one leg to hook over Sylvain's hip to open his legs in blatant invitation. He kisses him back with a desperate edge and strokes their tongues together, his hands curling underneath his grip. He was already hard and hot for it but he is clearly strained, needing more. ]

Come on, sweetheart. [ He whispers into his lips. ] Open me up, I want you inside of me.

[ He doesn’t let up on that pressure on Jesper’s wrists, letting him test the strength that restrains him. He knows what he’s doing, has done it himself before. There can be something freeing in trusting control over to someone you know won’t use that vulnerability against you. And he can already feel the way Jesper has relaxed since he’s given his mind something to focus on beyond the unhealthy cravings and addictions.

Although he’d tugged his magic awake a little while ago, just to keep monitoring things in the background. He didn’t want to risk missing anything. ]

Goddess. Already begging so prettily and I’ve barely touched you. [ There’s affection in his tone as he nips at the corner of Jesper’s lips. He shifts Jesper’s hands upwards so he can pin them there with one of his own hands, freeing the other one to slide down one trapped arm and cup against Jesper’s jaw as he tips his head back, deepening the kiss again. ] Greedy. I like that. I’m going to enjoy watching you come undone.

[ His hand reaches for the bottle and he uncorks it with his teeth before eyeing where he has Jesper’s hands pinned. ] I really need to learn if there’s a spell for this. [ He mutters the words under his breath, then glances down at Jesper again. ] Keep your hands above your head for me. Just like this. If you drop them, I’m going to stop touching you. And that’s not what you want at all, is it?

[ He only waits for any sign of acknowledgement before freeing his hand and leaving Jesper’s wrists there and spilling some of the oil into the palm of his hand so he can warm it. ]

[ Jesper likes sex in any mood or approach, there is no real limit to the types of sex he's enjoyed over the years, and here he's dabbled in anything from sweet soft sex to passionate handcuffed threesomes. It really does depend on his mood and Sylvain has targeted the mood he is in right now with ease. He feels a loss of control in his mind, he's been struggling and unable to clear his mind, so having Sylvain be a safe place to put his vulnerable body and mind into is integral. He trusts that they both will be enjoying this particular game, and he will get Sylvain back later.

He's very responsive and all his reactions are genuine. He sinks into the kiss with a happy sigh and arches up against him, the sting of the bite settling in so well with the same type of stinging pleasure. ]

A spell? Saints I love that you're impatient.

[ Jesper has to laugh at that. He agrees though, if there was a spell in order to make lube or move things faster, he would absolutely learn it as well. He is always eager to get down to it. Nothing can ever compare to the sensation of being filled and sometimes it's all he can do to keep himself from demanding it dry. He knows it's a bad idea but he gets so impatient. Even now he is getting to a mindless state where he just wants Sylvain inside of him. ]

No, I'll be good.

[ Well, that is mostly a lie, but Jesper doesn't want to test Sylvain's resolve on that, even if he suspects he could make the man break regardless. They are both too turned on for it to be easy to pivot away. But he still obeys, leaving his arms over his head, fingers curling into the sheets so he isn't tempted to fight back. Even if he would love to get his hands all over Sylvain's body right then.

He makes certain to keep his legs spread so Sylvain has easy access, heated eyes looking up at his new lover. ]

Fuck, you're so hot. I should've crawled into your lap in the hot springs.

[ Something in Jesper's words has Sylvain's gaze darting to his face again as he slicks his fingers. His lips quirk faintly as he gives Jesper's cock one more heated - and now slicked - stroke of fingers before his hands move lower. His hands cup up against his balls, playing with him, eyes dark and hooded as he watches Jesper's face and lets his fingers trail lower, circling slicked fingertips around that tight ring of muscle. Possibly dragging this out on purpose, despite his impatience. ]

I know you will be.

[ The murmured words hold layers of meaning in them and not all of them necessarily innuendo. But he casts Jesper a wink a moment later, playful mischief back in his amber gaze. ]

And if you're not, I'll just tie you to the bed. [ Although he suspects the other man might take that more as invitation than threat.

He chuckles and attempts to interrupt whatever retort he knows will follow that statement by sliding a pair of fingers past that tight ring of muscle to start stretching him. He's careful, but he suspects Jesper is even more impatient than he is right now so he pushes a little more than he normally would. Keeping the man distracted, breathless, his nerves under constant assault of pleasure and stimulation. ]

Fuuuuuck.

[ Jesper says on a moan when Sylvain's slick hand moves along his mostly neglected cock and he shivers as he touches his balls and starts to tease him. Sometimes Jesper doesn't mind being teased but he is definitely on the edge at the moment and wants to try to get him to move already. He plans on pushing toward that finger in a demanding way, but he is distracted by the threat that isn't a threat about tying him up, and his pupils dilate. That's how much he's into that idea. ]

Oh baby, you have no id---

[ The end of that sentence is unknown to him because Sylvain's finally sliding into him. Jesper relaxes almost immediately, there's no tension or need to go slowly, he is very down for this at all times. He can tell that Sylvain is being a little more forceful and he's so grateful for it, eagerly moving down into Sylvain's fingers. Since he is so easy it feels good right away, all he needs is more of it. He grips the sheets in his fingers and catches a breath, looking right at Sylvain with glowing hazy gray eyes. ]

Please, Sylvain, I don't need much, I promise, I like it rough.

[ That is an understatement. When he's in these moods he wants bedframe banging against the wall, bruises, bites, the ache that he'll feel for days, he is climbing up to that starving place. He is struggling to keep his hands where they are, wanting so much to reach out and pull him in, drive him crazy with his hands and mouth until all they can do is give in. He isn't allowed to do any of that so he has to entice with his looks and words, smooth as silk.]

Come on, you know you want to be inside of me. You know you want to make me scream.

[ Another chuckle, this one strained as Sylvain presses his fingers deeper, giving just enough strokes to feel Jesper relax around he intrusion. A third finger is added, because he know despite the words that there’s still a careful line between pleasure and pain and while he doesn’t mind straddling it, he prefers to still lean towards the pleasure side more than the opposite. ]

Oh, I do. And I want to feel you tight around me. Now who’s the impatient one?

[ It’s said teasingly, but the answer is still very much both of them. Satisfied by how his three fingers slide in and out of the tight grip of Jesper’s body, he spares a moment to slick his own cock before grasping Jesper’s hips and maneuvering him closer. The tip of his cock rubs against his entrance, teasing him for what is to come as he settles between the other man’s legs, watching him. ]

Alright, Jesper. You can let go now if you want.

[ Not that he gives him much time to digest those words, as he starts pressing into that tight, clenching heat with a soft hiss of pleasure. ]

Of course I'm impatient, look at you!

[ Compliments fall from his lips as easily as anything else but it's because he means them, full-heartedly. He already has gotten to kiss and touch Sylvain, who is outrageously beautiful and sexy, but he wants all of him. Jesper understands intellectually Sylvain is doing the right thing, and he's being far more thoughtful than Jesper himself is, but he moves against his fingers trying to get more out of them. Nothing will satisfy him though.

Not until Sylvain positions and Jesper's heartbeat skyrockets, he immediately cradles Sylvain between his legs as he settles in. He whines when he can feel him but he simply rubs and swears under his breath, so needy right then and not even sorry about it. The permission is given at the exact right time because Jesper might not have been able to help himself. He groans loudly as Sylvain fills him, one hand diving deep into Sylvain's hair, the other to his shoulder to dig in fingers. ]

Yes, thank you.

[ It's relief that floods him first because he was very much on the edge and getting desperate, and now he can focus on how intense it all feels. The burn is both too much and perfect and he is so swelteringly hot. Jesper's breath runs a little ragged the deeper Sylvain goes and he hooks a leg around him, trying to pull him in. That is how bossy he can be. He is completely past worrying about gambling or anything else, completely wrapped up in this instead. ]

Sylvain.

[ He says his name like a caress, looking up at his face, smiling. ]

[ Sylvain’s skin is flushed and a breathless moan works its way free as he stretches Jesper the rest of the way on his cock. He’s so tight around him that Sylvain’s a little worried but the noises Jesper is making makes it obvious that none of this is too much for him.

He feels those legs hook around behind him and he rocks a little deeper, a little rougher, changing up the angle of his next thrust as his hands slide to Jesper’s hips and yank him closer, sinking deep as he holds the other man’s gaze, his own dark and hungry. ]

I’ve got you. [ He repeats his earlier words, lips forming them against Jesper’s mouth before he kisses him deep once more. But the tone he calls his name with has him chuckling and thrusting deep again. ]

Not quite begging yet, but it will do for a start. You’re the gorgeous one here, Jesper. I could watch you like this for hours.

[ Jesper is only tight because he wants to be and he proves that when Sylvain goes deeper inside of him by purposely clenching tighter around him, a smirk on his face that shows he knows exactly what he's doing. He waits until Sylvain's sunk in and moving in him to hook his legs more intentionally around his hips, flexing them to hold him locked in. He encourages him to thrust with squeezes of his legs and he is easily out of breath, glad that Sylvain isn't going easy on him.

He leans up into the kiss and sucks on his tongue, fingers curling in Sylvain's hair and then jerking his head back with his grip, grinning. ]

Mmm, we're going to have hours, darling. Hours and days and weeks and months.

[ He tugs Sylvain's head down to take another hungry kiss from him, biting on his lip. Jesper doesn't even think about this in terms of limitations. It wouldn't occur to him that this would be a one night thing. Why would it? Jesper likes to keep his lovers, first times can be fantastic, but twentieth times even more so. Perhaps he shouldn't assume that it would be welcome, but he also doesn't think like that. He feels it, he wants it, he says it. ]

Though you really need to stop playing around and fuck me.

[ Sylvain’s rhythm falters for a moment as something flickers in his amber gaze. But its there and gone so quickly, it’s easy to miss. And he makes up for it by fucking Jesper a little rougher, a little deeper.

His hand delivers a playful smack to one ass cheek in silent chiding as he nips at Jesper’s lip. Fingers tangle in his hair and this time it’s Jesper’s head that’s held back, exposing his throat, tugging his body taut as Sylvain changes the angle of his thrusts once more. ]

Greedy bastard. That really didn’t sound like begging at all.

[ There’s amused affection in his voice however and he lets one hand slide up around Jesper’s hip to trail a single fingertip up the underside of Jesper’s leaking cock, swirling his thumb over the swollen head of it. ]

[ Jesper laughs out loud at the slap because there is never a time he is so intense that his playful spirit doesn't thrive. Besides, he loves playing around in bed, just as much as he likes being slammed into a mattress. It's fun to see that Sylvain's the same, although he already suspected that about him. Banter is natural.

The laughter however dies when Sylvain jerks his head back instead and goes at a different angle. That is exactly the right angle as he hits Jesper's prostate and he nearly comes off the bed, making a choking sound. Humor is replaced with clinging as a hand press into Sylvain's back and nails dig in sharply to hold on. He rocks his hips forward into Sylvain's hand and suddenly every nerve ending on his body is on edge. ]

Please, just like that but harder, please.

[ The bite of nails into his flesh earn a soft hiss from his, his eyes darkening, but the way Jesper moans and arches beneath him is beautiful to watch. And with those ‘please’ uttered in a desperate tone, Sylvain doesn’t mind giving him exactly what he wants.

He keeps Jesper’s head tipped back, holding him in this pose as he begins to rock into him, maintaining that angle but making the pace faster, rougher, deeper. His hips snap up into that warm supple body and he hisses out a breathless curse of his own as he bites down on his lip and struggles not to get lost in the chase of his own pleasure. ]

Fuck, you feel so fucking good, Jesper.

[ There is something so satisfying about simply surrendering to sensation and feelings, to focus only on what Sylvain's body is like as it presses into him, filling him with heat and pleasure. Jesper's legs try to lock Sylvain in, heels digging into his thighs, going from encouraging to simply holding on for dear life. All he can do is grip onto Sylvain with his limbs and let him take control of the situation, his cock hitting places that make him see stars. ]

Yes, Saints, Sylvain, fuck me.

[ He is sounding less demanding and needier, breathier, now, everything outside of this room is completely unimportant. No gods even exist in here, only Sylvain's mouth and body and the way they move together. His hand scratches from Sylvain's shoulder down his back and digs in at the center, his other fingers tightly wound in Sylvain's red hair. ]

You said to wait ... until you told me I could ....

[ Jesper groans and tenses up, he is very close to the edge with every time Sylvain drives into him, looking up at Sylvain with desperate eyes. ]

Come in me, I want it, please.

[ He strains up against Sylvain, his cock hard and seeking friction and permission. ]

I did. [ His voice is hoarse and strained, a breathless rasp as he maintains the rough rhythm that was driving them both closer and closer to that edge. ] And you’ve done just as you were told. See? I knew you’d be good for me.

[ He’s done teasing now. He can feel in the way Jesper shudders around him, by the desperate lookin his eyes as he holds the other man’s gaze. He’s close - they’re both close. ]

Let me feel you, Jesper. Let me feel all of it. I want to fee you come undone around me. [ And he frees one hand to wrap it around Jesper’s cock, fingers still slicked slightly from the oil earlier, just enough to keep the friction smooth and heated as he strokes Jesper in time to his own deep thrusts as he buries himself deep. ]

[ This is why at a point Jesper realized he needed this more than anything else. He is caught up in a storm of agonized pleasure and dizzy, simply holding on for the ride now, and it's beautiful, it is the best way to go crazy. The only thing that exists for him is the man inside of him, hearing his words but they feel a mile away, he's floating in that second on the edge before it all comes back into focus. He holds onto Sylvain and their eyes meet so they feel very connected in that moment, sweaty and desperate and full of unrestrained lust.

The roughness of Sylvain's body slamming him into the mattress is a complete contrast to the electrifying touch of his hand to Jesper's cock and that is what sends him over the edge. His body is loose and open and taking in everything Sylvain is giving him. If Sylvain wants to feel him it is right out there, Jesper is not a restrained person, all he's feeling is good and that any ache or pain only makes it better.

He cries out when a thrust hits him at exactly the right time a hand stroke goes and he comes, still moving through it, clenching very tight around Sylvain as he does, wanting to hold him inside. Jesper surges forward for one more kiss as the ecstasy crashes and whites everything out in the room to him. ]

[ He only makes it a thrust or two more before it’s too much and he’s burying himself deep with a hoarse cry. His lips crash against Jesper’s as he pushes him back to the bed and loses himself in echoing pleasure, tumbling over that edge right along with the man beneath him.

Panting for air, his kiss softens, stolen and quick between breaths as he waits for his pulse to stop pounding deafening in his ears. But his amber eyes flutter open again, warm and liquid like honey, and he doesn’t do anything to hide the fond smile splaying about his lips as he brushes a finger against Jesper’s cheek. ]

Wow.

[ This all started because of Sylvain pinning him against something, but the best possible end of that is being crushed into the mattress like now. Jesper feels a rush of pure joy and he is filled to the brim, they're connected, breathing each other's air, feeling each other's pulse through their joined bodies. This is why he's never really satisfied with one night stands; why give up after one or two excellent tries when you haven't perfected it yet?

He manages to come back to himself, a little drunk on lust, and smiles back at Sylvain. His fingers release their death grip on his hair and he caresses it instead. He remembers to also remove his nails from his back, although Jesper keeps his arm around him. ]

Wow times two.

[ He chuckles and pulls Sylvain down to kiss him. This one is sweet and tender although it lingers, there's promise in it. It shows the genuine care he feels. ]

Mmm, don't move yet, you feel fantastic.

[ That gets a muffled laugh from him as he kisses him back, the sound rumbling in his chest as he shifts just enough to make sure he isn’t crushing the guy completely. ]

I don’t think I could at the moment, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t, for the record. [ He smiles into the next kiss, brushing Jesper’s hair back off his face. He’s pretty sure his is tousled all over the place by now too. ] It’s been a while since I’ve had that much fun.

[ Jesper doesn't mind the weight on him, unsurprisingly it's one of the benefits of being in this position. He likes how steady it feels, how real it is, grounding him in the moment. He is feeling wonderful though, still floating, endorphins everywhere, his breath finally starting to slow but he can't stop smiling. The reasons for them needing to come here are far away, for now.

Sylvain's hair is messy and Jesper definitely made it worse, but it looks really good. He cups Sylvain's cheek. ]

Darling, it's just begun. There's so much more fun left to have.

[ Jesper is never satisfied so easily and they are both healthy and young and passionate. He is liking these sweet moments though and he always leans into them. He loves being wanted, but he craves being liked just as much. His other hand runs down Sylvain's back and to playfully cup his ass and squeeze it. ]

You are so gorgeous.

[ Sylvain chuckles, eyes sliding shut as he turns his face into that touch against his cheek, grinning. ]

Gorgeous enough to have you coming back for more, then? Good, my evil ploy has succeeded. [ Playful and lighter than he's felt all week, he squirms a little, which has him shifting within Jesper but also playfully pushing back against that hand he can feel on his ass. ] Or maybe I'll just keep you in my bed for the next week...

Oh yes, love, you're mine now. I never let go of my good partners.

[ Not when he can have them many more times! The only exception is when he devoted himself to Wylan, but that is something that made sense for everyone involved. Jesper is far looser with his affections since coming here and Sylvain is making it easy. He gasps a little at the squirming as it makes Sylvain move inside of him and it feels good. Oversensitive maybe, but so good.

Jesper hooks his leg around Sylvain again at a good angle and then with a quick push, rolls them over, Sylvain still inside of him. He is graceful at this, he's done it many times before. Now he gets to look down at that pretty face, his hands moving along Sylvain's defined muscles. ]

I'll bring lube with us next time we're in that area, I really do want you to fuck me against that wall.

[ It'll be fun when it's them intentionally planning it rather than it being a stressful situation. Jesper kisses the tip of Sylvain's nose. ]

[ Sylvain has long thought himself far past the stage of blushing - he honestly can’t remember the last time it happened. Compliments and flattery rarely brought it on after all. But Jesper’s earnest expression of intending to enjoy all this again?

That means more than all the pretty words and flattery he could ever think of. He can feel the tips of his ears redden and he’s a little relieved when Jesper flips them, hoping the movement will give him time to hide the way his skin has flushed slightly.

He can blame it on the breathless groan he makes as Jesper shifts above him now, his hands sliding over sensitive flesh. Yeah, he’s at the brink of oversensitive, too, but he does nothing to stop Jesper’s wandering hands, or the delicious tightness of his body around him, above him. ]

You’re not planning on getting us arrested, are you? Do they have rules about that I need to be worried about here? Otherwise, sure. [ He smirks, rocking his hips up tauntingly. ] I’ll fuck you against any surface you like. Or beg you to fuck me, I guess. That works, too.

[ Jesper does see the blush and it's adorable, although he assumes it has more to do with lust than embarrassment. Sylvain doesn't strike him as that type. It would be very sweet to know the reasons for it, but he is far more focused on just how everything feels right now. Which is great, fantastic, lovely. A little sensitive but sometimes the edge of that can be delicious. It's a wonderful view too, Sylvain all flushed and sweaty beneath him. ]

They definitely have rules against it, but that's why it's fun.

[ Don't ask him why he knows that. Or rather, you don't have to ask. It's pretty obvious. Jesper getting arrested for having sex in public is probably better for him than the other reasons he could be, like stealing or getting aggressive during gambling. He doesn't want to think about that now. He groans when Sylvain moves against him and scrapes his nails on his chest. ]

I do like the sound of that. Sorry about this.

[ The sorry is because Jesper rises up off of him. It's not ideal, he would really rather keep Sylvain inside of him as long as possible, but the angle makes it difficult for him to do what he wants. Which is adjust between Sylvain's legs and actually take the time to explore his body. Jesper was on a one-way track to Sylvain's cock earlier, now it's clear he just wants to have fun. His mouth travels down the curve of his neck, down to tease one of his nipples and suck it into his mouth. ]

Fuck!

[ The curse comes out as half-groan and half-whimper as Jesper stretches out more comfortably against him and then lets that devious mouth of his start to explore. He shivers when he feels Jesper pause to tease one of his nipples, skin sensitive and nerves still all too alight after their shared pleasure.

He strokes a hand down Jesper's spine, still craving as much contact as he can steal for himself, fingers tracing their way down the man's torso as he gives Jesper free reign to do whatever he likes. He's still catching his breath anyway. ]

I don't think you're sorry at all.

[ Jesper loves the journey to learning everything about his lover's body and needs, cataloguing every reaction as he goes. It's the perfect time between rounds to explore and Sylvain's body is the type of thing that should be thoroughly appreciated. The sorry was actually about getting Sylvain out of him, but he's making up for that soon enough. He moves his body down so he's the one cradled between Sylvain's legs, their positions reversed from before, but that's the fun of being with someone as easy to switch around. ]

How can I be sorry when your body is this sculpted?

[ Jesper runs a hand down Sylvain's side and curls around his thigh, squeezing as his mouth enjoys moving all over his chest. He spends more time teasing and licking each nipple, knowing it's on that line of too much, so he's not being rough about it. He sits back for a moment and turns his finger in a circle. ]

Flip over, love. I want to see all of you.

[ Sylvain had groaned, one arm flopped over his eyes as Jesper turned his full attention to exploring and teasing. He doesn’t bother to hide his reactions from the other man. In his own way, he knows exactly what Jesper is doing - he’d done the same, after all. Learning him, exploring him, cataloguing everything he could learn from the reactions and sounds he teased free. Turnabout was fair play and all that.

Besides. He hadn’t been lying when he’d stated it had been too long since he’d indulged like this. The warzone back home hadn’t exactly set the ideal atmosphere for seduction. And even then, any dalliance he took part in was a careful balance of what he could allow and what he couldn’t. And rarely did he find anything so equal in give and take as this. No, back home it often fell into one of two categories: those who wanted to impress him and those who wanted to use him.

Neither really made for all that satisfying an encounter, all things considered. Oh, that didn’t mean he abstained, of course - he had a reputation to maintain, after all. But it had certainly made his skirt-chasing something far closer to Jesper’s draw to gambling than any real enjoyment of the game.

This, though… This had felt different from the moment he’d first met Jesper and he was still trying to figure out why. And what he should do about it.

He peers out from beneath his arm when Jesper sits up, however, lips quirking in amusement at the statement as he considers being difficult or not. But that feels like it would take far more effort than indulging him, so playfulness aside, he gave a rather dramatic huff as he rolled over, flexible enough to slide his legs around where Jesper still knelt, so that he could stretch out on his stomach instead. ]

Better?

[ Here, there were a few more scars more visible than on his front. The puncture marks of a pair of arrows on the back of one shoulder. A long gash low on his ribs that curved around his side. Something that looked like a burned starburst on one hip. He’s not overly self-conscious about any of them, doesn’t really give them a second thought anymore, in fact. ]

[ When Jesper first arrived here, he had just agreed to a monogamous relationship where they were living together, and he was excited to see what his life had in front of him, as a kept boyfriend of a rich boyfriend. Why not, for a change? This entire situation was a let down for quite some time, and he had his share of heartache. It didn't take long for him to find comfort in sex, but it was only recent that he changed his Horizon so it no longer resembled the Van Eck Mansion. It took him a long time to actually get past the idyllic life he thought was his.

Sex for Jesper has always been something he could hide in, that he could enjoy without needing to be burdened with anything else. His relationship to sex and his lovers has always been a healthy thing, so frankly, he's the right person to be with when delving into longer-term affairs. And he is always happy to pull sexy people with him. Selflessly, of course!

Jesper waits until he turns and his hands go immediately back down to touch him, although now he has some scars to trace. He knows Sylvain's a warrior and assumes they each have a story. He leans down to right beside Sylvain's ear, nuzzling it.]

Perfect.

[ He murmurs and kisses his ear before moving his mouth down the back of his neck. Jesper admires the long length of his back, the powerful muscles defined even here. It is clear what he's doing when his lips touch the puncture marks on the shoulder and then the gash by his ribs. His hands run down to the curve of his ass and he squeezes it, sliding down the bed. He playfully nips one of Sylvain's ass cheeks, not too hard, smiling. ]

Is this okay?

[ Consent is key even after they've had an enthusiastic round and his question is clear when he gently spreads his legs and places a kiss very deliberately between them. ]

[ The curse is in his head this time, but still just as vehement. There's a visceral shudder that slips down his spine as Jesper's lips and fingers explore their way down his torso, lingering on old wounds that have long since lost their sting. Muscles twitch each time he finds a particularly sensitive spot and the nip to his ass gets a husky chuckle from him as he props his cheek on his arms and lets Jesper play however he wants.

The man spreading his legs and leaning down to kiss him again has a strained groan slipping free of his lips this time, teeth catching his lower lip in a bite as his breath audibly hitches in his throat. ]

Jesper, I'm pretty sure there's not a single thing you could do to me right now that I wouldn't love and give you absolute permission for. This is very okay and I am very invested in not stopping you from doing whatever it is you want to do.

All you had to say was yes, but I appreciate that extra enthusiastic consent.

[ Jesper laughs and honestly, what better way to reward someone who saved him from his worst habits with sex, his favorite thing in the world? It's a distraction that will make them both happy for a short time within all the madness. He's going to grasp it. He settles down on the bed right behind Sylvain, laid out much the same way but with his head in a far better place. He uses his elbows to put them right behind Sylvain's thighs and encourages him to spread them a little to make room. ]

Feel free to keep talking though.

[ Jesper doesn't only like to talk, he likes to listen. And Sylvain sounds particularly lovely when he's barely able to breathe. He uses his hands to hold Sylvain's cheeks and part them so he can move in for the kill. The first thing he does is a slow lick against his hole. Jesper has already proven how good he is with his tongue but he has a new layer to show off as he teases his opening with an experienced curl and then sweeps it inside. ]

That is going to be...

[ Yeah, he can't even get out a complete sentence when Jesper starts doing that. An attempt was made? Sort of?

Goddess, the man is far too talented with his tongue. ]

...very difficult with you back there.

[ Jesper is passionate in everything he does which Sylvain has learned tonight and will keep learning. He starts out slow because he is enjoying the unfurling of arousal and thirst between the two of them again. He runs his hands up and down the globe of his ass, holding him in place, firm and confident. And then he lets go of the leash and leans into it, plunging his tongue inside, stroking against his walls. He is tasting him with the single-eyed mission of plunging them into madness.

He knows where the bottle of lube went after their first go and releases one hand off him to get it wet. Jesper removes his tongue to give Sylvain a break from his intense unraveling to rub his fingers up against him. ]

And what if I said you won't get any more of this unless you talk?

[ It's a threat with no teeth, Jesper would never stop here. It's just for fun. He played the submissive well but now it's his turn. He slides a finger in, kissing right about him but not going in again, not without a little persuasion. ]

[ His eyes slam shut as Jesper leans into the teasing, breathless moan escaping between his bitten lips. It's a struggle not to push back against the slide of that tongue, seeing more, but Jesper's hands gripping his ass help keep him anchored in place. But he doesn't do much to stifle the noises Jesper drags from him, encouraging more, even if it's not with actual words.

Although his groan takes on a note of protest when that tongue withdraws. He's breathless, skin flushed with arousal now, and when he feels that finger rub against his entrance, he can't help but try and push back against it, seeking more. Wanting to feel Jesper inside of him. ]

What do you want me to say? Because it's really hard to focus on anything past how badly I want you to fuck me right now? [ There's amusement in his voice, but it can't quite disguise the strain in his voice as he shifts beneath Jesper slightly, muscles stretching as he rocks back shallowly in invitation. ]

[ Every noise is beautiful to his ears. The breathy moans echo for him and he is very pleased. If there is one way to build them back up to arousal, this is an easy route, and one he clearly loves doing considering his enthusiasm. Sylvain makes it worth it. He's so eager as he rocks back into Jesper's finger and he smiles. He graciously goes up to two to give him more and at first he lets Sylvain's body chase it, but he uses his fingers to hold him open and goes back to licking deeper into him. He laps at him like he's a five-course meal and then he shifts to aggression, firmly thrusting his fingers into Sylvain.

He pulls back his head when he can tell he's worked him up enough and still slides his fingers smoothly in and out. ]

Up on your knees, darling.

[ Jesper's other hand curves on his ass and then to his thigh, encouraging him up as he requested. Once that is satisfied and Jesper can settle in closer behind him, his hand runs over the beautiful skin into Sylvain's hair. And with a very forward move, he curls his fingers into his hair and pulls up, a demand that if followed would get him onto his hands as well as his knees. They are still playing around and learning each other, but Jesper is back on edge.

He opens him enough to feel comfortable and slicks himself up, hard as a rock all over again with no real need for lead up, but he only rubs himself against Sylvain for now, teasing the same way he had. ]

Turnabout is fair play, Sylvain. You know what to do.

[ Beg him, just as Jesper had done the same. ]

[ Sylvain loves the rough edge to the play as much as Jesper had, something he's sure is easy to pick up on as Jesper teases and torments him. There's a soft hiss at the stretch of muscles, but he loves the faint burn of it. Craves even more of it.

His eyes are dark and hazy when Jesper urges him up on his knees and Sylvain doesn't struggle against this. It's clear he has no hesitation about switching between the roles they've played so far and when Jesper grips him by his hair, his body bends into the hold, sinuous and limber, letting himself be guided and maneuvered just how Jesper wants him. It even gets a breathless little whimper from him, eyes sliding shut once more as he revels in the sensations assaulting his nerves, letting himself lose himself a little more deeply in it this time around with Jesper in control of what they're doing.

A whimper that turns into a breathless whine when he can feel that cock tease against his entrance but not push its way inside yet. The absence of Jesper's fingers stretching him open is already an ache he badly wants filled. ]

Fuck, Jesper, please fuck me? I want to feel every fucking inch of you.

[ It's always a pleasure to find someone as bendy as he is in the bedroom. Jesper likes playing any role, he is very adaptable, but he isn't really in the mood right now for something soft and sweet. Maybe later. There's too much buzzing through him, too much strain and hunger, and he wants to continue to try to purge it this way. In the best possible way. Sylvain is going right along with the shift, moving his body up at Jesper's physical demand. He holds his hair firmly to keep him arched just like that, at the ready for him.

Jesper settles behind Sylvain, his knee pushing his thighs open just a little wider so he has more access. He is up higher on his knees, pushing his thighs behind Sylvain's to frame them, taking himself in hand to guide himself. ]

Of course, darling, anything for you.

[ That sweet message given, Jesper snaps into him a little faster than he ordinarily would, but he sensed that rough edge turned Sylvain on, so he's playing into it. They could both enjoy it at the moment. He thrusts in entirely and groans loudly, that tight hot heat so perfectly wrapped around the whole of him. He swears and takes a good moment to simply shiver and let it overwhelm him. ]

Saints, you are perfect.

[ He is all rippled muscle and beauty at the moment and Jesper decides to take his time now that he's in him. The cry for immediate release is in the back of his mind but he starts a slow but hard pace, sliding all the way in and out with each stroke, snapping into him roughly each time. There's room so that Sylvain can push back against him if he wants to, but Jesper's mostly in control, taking and giving to his liking. ]

[ Jesper, if you keep praising him like this, he's going to get a big head. Bigger head? But he finds Jesper's continued use of pet names as he does adorably endearing at the same time.

Reacting to the mood he's picking up off Jesper, Sylvain's more than happy to meet him in the middle, adapting to offering the same. If Jesper needs to vent whatever he's feeling or struggling with, Sylvain's more than willing to let him use him for this. He's not even going to try to deny that he finds the whole thing ridiculously hot, but that seems to be anything involving Jesper, he's found. So he capitulates, gives himself over and lets Jesper take the control as much as he likes.

He bends for him, held taut by the grip in his hair, and he can only imagine what that looks like for the man behind him. It must be good, considering the way Jesper curses and then pushes into him without warning.

He can't help but arch with a strained cry at that - it's sudden and deep and his body shudders around the abrupt intrusion. Muscles burn in the attempt to accommodate Jesper's length as the man sinks deep and then hesitates there to adjust and enjoy. Sylvain can't help the instinctive clench around him, relishing the burning stretch and craving more of the same.

It's what has him rocking back against each of Jesper's thrusts when he starts to move, eager for more, encouraging him on. The hard pace has his breath coming in ragged gasps for air, moans slipping free when Jesper's hips snap in to bury himself completely, over and over again. It's relentless and dizzying and perfect. ]

Jesper, fuck, I think you're the perfect one here.

[ Jesper loves using pet names for his lovers, it's little displays of affection to him. He waits after Sylvain's initial cry out to make certain it's of the good kind and also to give him a few seconds to adapt before he moves again. Besides, he enjoys those precious seconds of being fully sheathed, the power of this position making him feel particularly good about it.

Once Sylvain starts to move with him though he is reassured it's what he wants and the many noises he's making in obvious pleasure only egg Jesper on more. The clenching around him makes him choke for a second, sucking in breath. He changes up the pace for fun, going from his thorough and deep thrusts to shallow but fast, jerking Sylvain back onto him with the grip on his hair. His whole body feels like it's on fire and Sylvain's hot and welcoming. ]

You sound so good, love those moans.

[ Jesper moves his free hand around and curls it around Sylvain's hard cock. He strokes him far slower than the movement of his sharp hips. He releases Sylvain's hair but holds onto his shoulder instead to keep him in place, digging fingers in to keep him there. Jesper abruptly stops the movement of his hand and holds him Sylvain under the head so he can't release without his permission. ]

Look over your shoulder at me, sweetheart, I want to see your pretty face when you beg me to let you come.

[ Turnabout really is fair play when Sylvain insisted on it himself. ]

Fuck. [ That's just cruel, Jesper! Luckily he loves it anyway, even though his muscles shudder and clench around the thickness of Jesper's cock, trying to taunt him into more anyway.

But at the playful demand, Sylvain takes a deep, shuddering inhale and glances back over his shoulder at the man behind him. His eyes are dark and hazy, pupils blown wide with lust, and there's a visible flush on his skin from how much he aches to come. Jesper knows exactly how to tease and Sylvain is thoroughly enjoying that fact.

But he manages a hint of an impish grin, even as he rocks back to take Jesper deeper. When he speaks, it's not to beg, even though his voice is strained and breathless as he focuses long enough to get the words out. ]

I don't want to come until you do.

[ Sylvain looks like a full-out wet dream in that moment, and it's definitely something Jesper will lock away when they're not together. The flush of his face and his dark eyes and the sweaty need between them. He is beautiful and there will probably be times when they're together in public and Sylvain will look at him similar to this and Jesper will get hot from it without needing anything else.

Jesper is flushed too, eyes almost a pure silver now in the heat of things.]

So pretty. And yet, not listening.

[ Jesper grins right back at him and he does allow him to push back and does exactly what he wants. He fucks into him hard and deep again, his hand sliding down his shoulder to his hips and firmly holding Sylvain in place so he can't try to move back anymore. He applies pressure so he's somewhat pinned at the hips and has to accept what Jesper gives him.

He waits until he can feel that he's managed to thrust into his prostate, having been changing up his thrusts and angles specifically to get that sweet spot, and the moment he does, he stops. That's right. Stops. He's deep inside of Sylvain but not moving, his hand holding him from coming at the same time, and he raises an eyebrow. ]

Did you say something?

[ This isn't easy for him either, his entire body is screaming, but Jesper has enormous control over himself. ]

[ It should be a little consolation that Jesper is also torturing himself at the moment.

But it’s not, really. Not after that purposeful stroke over his prostate that had sent his nerves lighting un in reaction, pleasure sparking blindingly through him. And then… nothing.

As much as he enjoys being difficult, as much as he’d relished the way Jesper had pinned him down to keep him from moving, the stillness that follows was all the worse for it. The breathless whine of protest escapes him before he even realizes it’s happening and while the temptation to be a brat a little while longer is strong, Jesper depriving him of everything now is a far stronger motivation.

Besides. He’s already figured out he’s going to be very bad at denying Jesper Fahey anything he wanted. ]

Fucking… please, Jesper! Fuck me. Make me come on your cock. Please, please, I’ll beg you as much as you want. [ His body shudders caught torturously there on the edge, his body clenched tight around Jesper’s cock. ]

[ It is torture but it is obviously worth it to him. Jesper can tell he's found someone right for his specific type of tastes and since most of his lovers are on the Horizon, it is very nice to have something so very real for him to touch and enjoy. They both were seeking relief tonight, but they got more than that. He actually laughs at Sylvain, he's so mean really, but he knows it turns them both on to play like this. ]

Oh I should make you beg until you can't speak, baby. Another time.

[ There is so much promise in that and Sylvain now knows that Jesper can back up his words. Luckily they are both so close to the edge that he can give them exactly what they need right away. He immediately starts moving again, driving himself directly against Sylvain's prostate relentlessly, slamming into him without any pity or remorse, but that's because they don't need it. They need release and they need it now.

His hand starts stroking him exactly as fast, going from zero to a hundred in less than two seconds, pumping him demandingly and rubbing his thumb along the head, spreading precum all over him, preparing to get him to come. Jesper doesn't deny himself anything either, the clenching around him and the rise to pleasure snapping him well past it and tumbling over the edge. He doesn't stop moving into Sylvain through his entire orgasm, dragging it out, wanting to get them both strung out of it. ]

[ Even if he’d intended to try and hold back until he could feel Jesper come, when Jesper does start to move again, he shatters what’s left of Sylvain’s control in the process. A keening cry escapes bitten lips as Sylvain’s body arches back, the repeated strokes against his prostate whiting out his vision and making his body tremble at the relentless stimulation.

The hand resuming its strokes around his cock is what sends him over the edge though, muscles clenching down tight as he cries out something that might be Jesper’s name as he spills over the other man’s hand and down over the bed. His body is still greedily tight around Jesper’s however, as he feels the rush of heat as the other man chases his pleasure.

In the aftermath, he’s breathless, gasping raggedly for air as his forehead rests on the back of one arm. His legs are trembling and he’s pretty sure Jesper can probably feel that. Along with the tremors that shudder through him in aftershock of the intensity of that orgasm. He’s sore, but in the best way, and he relishes every ache he can feel. ]

Fuck. You’re right. We are definitely doing that again.

[ Gun to his head, Jesper would probably say that the rush of lust is far better than anything else. Adrenaline is amazing no matter what, and sometimes he is definitely in the mood for a fight or trouble, and gambling is a rush but it makes him feel sick too. Lust is always good, or maybe it's just always good for him. Maybe there are times he shouldn't chase it, but times like now, he is oh so glad that he did.

Jesper is also gasping for breath, unable to stop from sagging his body on top of Sylvain's and resting much of his weight on him for a few seconds. His hand drops from his cock to try and get some purchase on the mattress to hold himself from completely dropping on top of Sylvain. He moans in response considering he's definitely orgasmed the hell out of his brain for a few seconds as his brain cells try to reboot. It's only sensation at the moment and he loves it.

He has the good sense to pull out of him before he actually does collapse, instead merely collapsing next to him helpfully, face down into the mattress next to him. He deliriously smiles and groans as he pulls up his arm to rest his own forehead on it, turning his head to look at Sylvain. His body aches from both rounds now and the thing is, his fire is usually only simmering. ]

Gimme five minutes.

[ Jesper says and then laughs. Well laughs and gasps for breath at the same time. ]

Edited 2022-11-17 22:50 (UTC)

[ Sylvain doesn't even try to bite back an answering laugh, collapsing onto his side with a groan a moment later. He's close enough, however, that he can roll near enough to press a kiss to the back of Jesper's shoulder, where he's sprawled beside him.

He loves the sight of that smile. He can't help but return it, reaching out to flick a damp strand of hair off Jesper's forehead. ]

Have I told you how beautiful you are? Because I feel like I really need to. Although you've been excellent at making me forget just about every train of thought I've had tonight.

You have but I never get tired of hearing it.

[ Jesper turns on his side facing Sylvain and immediately lifts a hand to his cheek, snuggling in close without a moment of hesitation. Perhaps other people aren't so affectionate in the afterglow, but Jesper loves contact. He slides his leg between Sylvain's legs and leans in to kiss him slowly, sweetly. His fingers caress through his hair much more gently than the rest of tonight. The sharp edge is off but the desire is far from gone. ]

Thank you, love. I could use a night free of my demons.

[ He won't be able to escape it forever, but he feels less afraid of being sucked back in as long as Sylvain's body is in the way. ]

[ Sylvain’s lis quirk faintly at that and he leans in to meet that kiss, slow and lazy now in sated bliss. His hand slides up to cup at the nape of Jesper’s neck, touch warm and gentle. It’s not often he has someone like this that he wants to linger and enjoy the afterglow with, so this is a delightful novelty and he intends to indulge it to the fullest. ]

Trust me, I understand. [ Another slow kiss before he rests his forehead against Jesper’s and smiles at him crookedly. ] We could all use one of those, every once in a while. And I’m happy to provide it, whenever you need one.

Oh don't worry.

[ Jesper grins and kisses him again, running his hand down his bare back. He playfully pats his ass because he can, and they're both in a good mood.]

I plan on taking full advantage of you. Most of my lovers are in the Horizon and while that's lovely, and I look forward to fucking you there too, it's still nice to be in the flesh.

[ The Horizon is very fun in terms of what creatively you can come up with. Jesper has learned about a whole lot of toys and fun things that he's incorporated into his cabin, so he is always for fooling around. And it's far easier to clean up and there's never a need to stop really, unless you feel like it. But it's still not technically real.

Little does he know that Nocwich will open permanently and that will change, all that will mean is that he can try to have sex with Sylvain in the hot springs next time. ]

[ They really do need a redo of the Hot Springs Date, with way more sex this time. Sounds very relaxing. Eventually.

But for now, he just laughs and nips playfully at Jesper’s shoulder, teeth scraping lightly against the warm skin before he drops a kiss on the same spot. ]

In that case, I can’t wait to be taken advantage of in all the best ways. And return the favor in kind. I guess I really did luck out, to land in the same city, hmm? [ He’s teasing him, but that doesn’t make the words untrue. ]

[ Jesper's breath catches just a little at the bite, he does really love those, and then he's chuckling. ]

Eh, we would've ended up here no matter where we were. As if I could resist a sassy redhead built like the dream of any man-lover.

[ They still would have met at Nocwich no doubt, Jesper would have been drawn to him no matter what, and then just seduced him in the Horizon instead. He knows himself. It's always a matter of time when he sees someone he wants, within reason. He does have an instinct for who he can and cannot have. ]

But I consider myself very lucky right now.

[ There’s the faintest hint of a flush that creeps up the back of his neck. It’s still such a novel feeling, to be wanted for himself here. He could count on his fingers the number of times that had happened back home. And then still probably have fingers left over to spare. ]

I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one, since you apparently find redheads irresistible. [ His smirk is amused as he teases him. ] I’ve never been so happy not to have been born a blond. The sassy, though… Yeah, that’s just a hazard of me, I’m afraid.

Well I like them all, but I do have a weakness for redheads. Redheads, dominant women, and sad soft boys.

[ Jesper wouldn't say he has a type though, he really just likes who he likes, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't know the things that get to him the most. Sad soft boys being the particular worst. Wylan was two out of three! No wonder he was putty in the merchling's hands. ]

But I would have wanted you whatever the hair color, love. I might adore handsome faces, but I like personalities more than anything else.

[ Jesper is arguably oversexed and he openly admires the beautiful people around them, but he's never had sex with a boring person in his life. He wouldn't even be attracted to them if they had the prettiest face and nothing in their head. No fun! ]

[ That gets a wry chuckle from him, however, even as he lets his legs tangle with Jesper’s, his lips slowly trailing along one bared shoulder as he soaks in the warm affection. ]

Oh, well, in that case, I may have to take it back. Apparently your taste is questionable after all. [ He’s laughing though as he gives Jesper a playful wink. ] Although as far as weaknesses go, those are good ones to have.

[ He even shares some of them. Well, not the redheaded part, but the rest? ]

Edited 2022-11-18 01:38 (UTC)

I do have questionable taste, but it's always the interesting kind.

[ Jesper likes bad boys and bad girls too, he's been attracted to many people he probably shouldn't. Really who even knows what works for him at the end of the day. What matters is who he does have in his bed, and right now it's Sylvain. He grins though and steals a kiss from him, playfully biting his lip and tugging on it afterward. ]

I also love threesomes, so if you ever want to invite someone, I am a permanent yes. You don't even have to ask me, just bring them.

[ That has Sylvain bursting into laughter, smirking impishly at Jesper. ]

Oh? Have someone in mind, do you?

[ Jesper's grin would be called a Cheshire Cat grin to anyone who knows the reference, otherwise it really is just very big and full of mischief. ]

I did say anyone, and I mean anyone, but also, Claude.

[ Now he’s just laughing harder, burying his face against Jesper’s shoulder. ]

An important inclusion, always. Have you coerced him into a twosome yet, before trying to lure him into an adventure with all three of us?

[ He actually has no idea how Claude might react to that proposition, actually. They should find out. ]

[ Jesper laughs with him because he is absolutely shameless but it's working for both of them so he has no reason to be worried about it. He caresses fingers through his hair. ]

Not yet, although I did really wow him with my fighting skills on our quest, so I was hoping that would earn me some points. I'm not really a planner, I was waiting for my in.

[ Jesper's seductions can take anywhere between ten minutes and ten months. He has no problem playing long games with some people. It's not his usual way, but he does love a challenge. There's no harm in aiming high! Jesper never takes easy bets, always hard ones. ]

It is fair, we probably should try to get him to hook up with one of us separately before sliding that idea in there.

Claude likes a challenge. [ Sylvain just smirks as he rests against the other man, comfortable. ] Give him a puzzle to solve, a mystery to unravel, and you’ll have his undivided attention.

[ A pause, before he snickers, recalling their time in Nocwich. ] Or you just dare him. He does seem to have a weakness for those.

[ Which he still found a little surprising, honestly. Not that he was complaining. ]

Oh damn, I am not much of a puzzle or a mystery, as you can tell, I'm very straightforward.

[ Jesper laughs and kisses his jawline, it's so sharp, he loves it. ]

I am, however, very daring.

[ He bites down on Sylvain's neck. ]

You have slept with him then?

I wish. [ Is that a note of wistfulness in his tone? It’s hard to tell, and he’s back to chuckling a moment later anyway, brushing any of that away. ]

There were some students at the Academy that I considered very much off limits and Claude was certainly one of them. He ever tell you he’s basically a prince? Or he would be, if the Alliance did things like rulers instead of governing by a council. His House heads it, though, and he’s the heir.

…Of course there was never any harm in flirting. And here… well. Politics and old traditions don’t really apply here anyway.

I know he was high-ranking, he told me about the Crests. It was very I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

[ And now that Sylvain has seen that Jesper can literally melt the clothes off him and fix them back up in a second, he knows what the 'show me yours' was in that conversation. He does know a thing or two about class differences, being the scoundrel who moved into the fanciest merchant house in Ketterdam. ]

Leave all your world's baggage where it is, Sylvain. It doesn't apply here.

[ Jesper caresses his cheek affectionately. ]

If you want him, get him.

[ He doesn’t deny there’s baggage. In fact, the dry note to his answering chuckle hints at just how much their might be. But he leans into that touch, eyes sliding closed as he just soaks up the contact for a moment. And then he leans in to kiss Jesper once more, slow and deep.

And maybe just a little needy. ]

I’m not so sure it’s that easy. But I’ll take it into consideration. [ Lips quirk in amusement as he nips at Jesper’s lip. ] But in that case, what’s stopped you?

Nothing stops me. I haven't felt the mood shift yet, I'm not in a hurry.

[ Jesper's in tune with how people look at him. When he notices that change, then he'll do something about it. Sylvain and him were always on this tune together though. They were only a matter of time. He senses that shift, for example, when Sylvain became a little needier, and he kisses him intently. His hand slides down the front of Sylvain's bare chest, down down down, and playfully runs up his fingers toward Sylvain's cock. ]

Round three with you, though, I'm in a hurry for that. How about it?

[ Sylvain just laughs, not bothering to hide the shiver that sweeps through him at Jesper’s touch, body already reacting.

He reaches out, hands grasping again as he rolls to press closer, grin turning sly and pleased. The kiss he drops on Jesper’s lips time has more intent behind it than just idle, lazy affection. ]

Mmm. I can be persuaded…

[ …As if he doesn’t set out to do his own persuading a breath later. They still had plenty of hours to fill with distraction yet. ]

[ At some point after Sylvain and Claude had returned from their little desert excursion, Hilda had put a plan into motion. Call it boredom, call it a really good joke that would have happened sooner or later, call it whatever you want - but Hilda affectionately called it looking out for a dear friend. She hummed to herself as she finished tying a complicated looking blue bow (the closest thing she could find to Faerghus blue) around the cream box and made her way towards the boy's room. With a quick rap on the door she gave it a moment listening for anything that could have been going on behind the closed door before calling out - ]

Sylvain!

[ Fortunately, Sylvain is alone for the moment and not involved in anything that would have Hilda blushing. Although he does hastily swing the door open with a puzzled expression as he blinks down at her. ]

Hilda? What's wrong?

What makes you think something is wrong?

[ The expression on her face is genuine bewilderment as she wiggles the box in front of face. ]

Do you not see the gigantic box I have with me? [ And then with more genuine concern: ] Are you sure you didn't get heat stroke the other day being in the desert with Claude?

[ He squints at the box suspiciously a moment before giving her a bemused look. ]

If that's a hat, I'm going to start filling both you and Claude's beds with sand.

[ Not really, but the fact that they've both picked up this running joke now means he can tease both of them about it. ]

[ Her eyes glint right back with a mischievous quality but she gasps as if offended before moving the box away just out of his reach. In reality though Sylvain's arm reach alone could probably just pluck the box from her without much effort considering he has a full foot on her. ]

You'd really say that to someone that's gifting you something out of the goodness of her own heart? Is this how you normally react to having presents given to you?

[ Instead of reaching for the box, Sylvain reaches out and snakes an arm about her waist, lifting her with an easy strength and pinning her against his chest as he then turns and spins her inside his room with a smirk. ]

I'm sure it's just the heat exhaustion talking.

[ The noise that leaves Hilda's mouth is a mixture of surprise and protest as her stomach swoops at being lifted from the ground. A flush colours the apples of her cheeks as she's suddenly brought much closer to Sylvain's face than she was before. She would have instinctively hooked her arm around his neck to steady herself had it not been for the box.

She huffs and wiggles in an attempt to be put back on the ground but there's the undeniable hint of a smile on her face. ]

Aw Sylvain, if all you wanted was a hug you just had to say so. I wouldn't have had to go and spend my time and money on getting you this.

You shouldn't be spending your money on me anyway. [ Sylvain just chuckles, not setting her back on her feet until he carries her over and lets her drop to sit on his bed, since Claude's been on a binge and there are books covering most of the free seats in this place. Sylvain's about to pitch them all out the window. ] But I will always take a hug.

[ He casts her a playful wink before casting a skeptical look at the box she holds. ] What did you get anyway? And why?

Consider yourself lucky then. I don't just spend my own money on people that are already using their money to buy me things.

[ Hilda doesn't even spare a glance towards Claude's bed as she's placed gently onto Sylvain's. By process of elimination it has to be his - it's not covered with books or swords after all. Her fingers drum across the lid of the box that's now in her lap, the same mischievous glint back in her gaze. She pats the spot on the bed beside her motioning for him to sit beside her. ]

All of those can be answered if you open up the box. I promise it won't bite. But I know you kind of like that so maybe that's a bad thing.

[ He obliges her, sinking down to perch on the mattress beside her. But her words get an amused laugh from him as he casts her a smirk and a playful wink. ]

I do indeed like that sort of thing, but I'd prefer it from you rather than a box. [ But he holds out his hands and makes grabby motions with his fingers all the same. ]

I'll keep it in mind for next time, maybe.

[ The box is exchanged between hands and she can't help but eagerly cozy up to him to watch him open it. As much as Hilda enjoyed receiving gifts (maybe enjoyed wasn't the right word to capture it, she loved receiving them), she enjoyed giving them just as much. There's an art form to gifting that she'd like to think she's mastered. Even though gift boxes and paper were eventually tossed away, the thought that went into the presentation of a gift was just as important as the gift itself in her mind.

This gift to Sylvain is no different. When Sylvain removes the lid, swathes of tissue similar to the colour of the ribbon covers the gift, enveloping it in a perfect nest. And underneath it? Well, Sylvain probably guessed what it was before he unearths it. Either way, Hilda can't hide the absolute delight and laughter in her eyes when he's holding it in his hands. As ridiculous as the hat may look, Hilda took the time to personalize it for him. On the inside of the hat at the back is a meticulously embroidered outline of a lion's head and Sylvain's initials beneath it. ]

Well? What do you think?

[ He shows ample appreciation for her excellent wrapping skills. Or maybe he's just delaying the inevitable, because that smile on her lips spells all kinds of trouble. And when he finally tugs out... is that a hat? He's not entirely sure, actually. ]

Hilda. You shouldn't have.

[ No, really. ]

It's very blue. And excellent shade, I'm sure.

[ Her enthusiasm should have been a dead giveaway that she knew exactly what she was doing when she had picked out the hat. Hilda knew it looked silly, but that was kind of the point. In the same breath, the hat was also extremely practical for someone as fair skinned as Sylvain who had come back from his desert excursion a little more than pink than he usually was. ]

There was a red one but I figured that this suited your complexion a little better.

[ Her grin widens a fraction, her eyes shining. Oh, she was loving this. ]

Are you going to try it on?

[ He is going to get even for this. He doesn't know how yet. But he will find a way.

At her sparkly-eyed look, he sighs deeply. And then smirks as he plucks the hat out of the box. ]

Oh, but then I won't be able to see it to admire it. Here, you model it for me instead.

[ And he promptly tugs it down over her head. ] Oh my. What a good look for you.

Wha - Sylvain! It took me so long to do my hair this morning.

[ Her whine is partially muffled by the hat. All that remains of her pout is a pair of pink eyes glaring at Sylvain through the slit between the brim of the hat and the neck cover.

This wasn't going the way she wanted to at all. In one fluid motion she tugs the hat from her head and launches herself at him with a surprising amount of speed and force in an attempt to get the hat onto his head. How successful she is is anyone's guess though. ]

[ He just laughs as he’s suddenly toppled over by a pink hurricane, landing on his back on the bed as he tries to fend her off from returning the favor. ]

But you make such a darling model, Hilda! Don’t be so shy!

[ She's somehow managed to straddle him, pinning him between her thighs as she tries to find a way through his flailing arms to get the hat onto his head. It's a bit of a tougher feat with his head against the bed though. Her words come out through some gritted teeth here and there as she struggles against Sylvain's own strength. ]

Oh, I'm not shy Sylvain. I love modelling things but I think you have to get over your fear of being a fashion icon! Nothing says fashion forward like being sun aware.

[ He's still fending her off, but he doesn't pass up the opportunity to smirk up at her while he does so, his lips curving in a sly grin. ]

Well, if you'd offered me this while straddling me earlier, I might have taken it better.

And I don't have a fear of being a fashion icon. Maybe I'm shy.

[ He is definitely not shy. ]

[ Hilda can't help but laugh at his paper thin lie despite being in a somewhat compromising position that would make a more modest person blush. ]

I feel like I'm getting mixed messages here. A shy Sylvain would never be caught dead in this position, give in and try on the hat if I was straddling him. [ She huffs again in frustration missing the slight gap in his arms and therefore her brief window of being able to tug the hat onto his head. ] Did I mention that I got you this hat with my own money?

[ He won't tell if you start blushing, Hilda, it's okay. ]

Technically you're the one that manhandled me here, so I'm not responsible for my current position in the first place. My poor scandalized virtue!

[ As if he'd ever had any of that to begin with.

He does cast her a playful scowl as he catches her wrists, however, and easily holds her above him. ]

You shouldn't be spending your money on me, you just got here.

Excuse me? You made the first move!

[ The first move being forcing a hat onto her that was clearly his.

Caught wrists definitely make trying to force a hat onto someone more difficult and her brows knit together again. They had been been taught scenarios like this before in hand to hand combat - not that she's had to do this very often or in a while - but muscle memory is a powerful thing. Hilda lets the hat drop onto Sylvain's face, pushing her hands down and around so her wrists were on the outside of Sylvain's arms. With a force that she claimed she didn't have, she broke free from the hold before snatching his wrists and forcing his arms over his head. ]

But you've taken mostly good care of me while I've been here. It's the least I can do. So when you think about it, it's really hurting my feelings that you won't just try on the hat for me.

[ He's too busy grinning that she'd broken his hold to even mind that she'd dropped the hat smack on his face. But he turns his head enough so that it slides off to the side as he lets her pin his wrists above his head. And tries very hard not to stare at how close that brought her breasts to hover over his face. ]

Maybe if you had your wicked way with me, we'd both feel better. [ As suggestions go, it's offered in the sweetest, most innocent tone possible. ]

[ She can feel you staring Sylvain. Despite that she lets out another sigh that sounds suspiciously like a laugh along with an eyeroll. When she does reply her voice is just as singsong-yy as Sylvain's innocent tone. ]

Maybe if you accepted my gift we could talk about wicked ways later.

[ Skillfully she snatches both of Sylvain's wrists in one hand before grabbing the hat and dangling it above his head with a smile. ]

What do you say?

[ That just has him laughing, although he sighs a very deep, put-upon sigh. ]

I'd say that sounds very much like you avoiding the topic entirely. [ He states this with mournful disappointment. ] But if it will make you happy, Hilda, fine, I will accept your hat.

[ Hilda’s smile is nothing short of brilliant. It’s the smile she gets when she’s gotten her way and it's like all the work the wrestling she had to earlier is a distant memory. With her victory in hand, she shuffles backwards slightly to help Sylvain into a seated position before placing the hat on his head with such reverence that you’d think that it was sacred. ]

How do you feel in it?

[ Personally, she thinks it looks perfectly ridiculous. ]

Edited 2022-12-20 21:43 (UTC)

[ He bites back a sigh and humors her, although there's amusement glinting in his gaze at her smug satisfaction.

Also she's not wrong in her observation. He absolutely feels ridiculous. ]

Muffled.

[ Hilariously, he also sounds muffled. ]

[ It helps being perceptive in moments like these although knowing someone definitely helps too. Hilda catches the glint of amusement in Sylvain’s gaze which only serves to tug her grin wider. ]

But protected from the sun, right? Go on, you can say it: thank you so much for protecting me from the sun, Hilda. I know that your kind heart is going to be the reason my handsome face stays unmarred by the harsh desert sun.

I don't need to say it when you've summed it up so accurately. [ His voice is still dry, if amused. ] Thank you, Hilda.

[ He guesses. ]

[ Delighted laughter finally escapes Hilda's lips. ]

You're welcome, Sylvain. But now that the present is out of the way, I was hoping you could do me a favour.

[ There’s a weighted silence beneath the blinding blue of that hat before Sylvain reaches up to peel the lower half up over his forehead, almost like someone would visor a helmet.

He gives her the most baleful look possible. ]

You mean to tell me this wasn’t the favor???

[ His expression is only greeted with the sweetest of smiles. It would take a lot more to deter Hilda than a baleful look from Sylvain. ]

No, that was a gift. [ And then to breeze onto her next important item - ] I was wondering if you'd teach me how to bartend. You seem so good at it and I figure it couldn't hurt to pick up a new skill while I'm here.

[ Realizing how it sounds she hurriedly rushes to add on a last bit in case he got any ideas. ] And to be clear, this is more of a hobby. I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm starting to get bored doing nothing all day.

[ You're so lucky he's so fond of you right now.

But when she rushes off to explain, his expression softens a little and he offers her a crooked smile. ]

No, I know what you mean. It's odd, not having so much to fill our days that we feel we'll never keep up with all of it. I thought it would be more relaxing, but it got pretty old pretty fast. I don't mind teaching you what I've picked up here. Mag's always grateful to have an extra set of hands around here.

You had things to fill your day at home?

[ It’s mostly a joke. Mostly.

The smile that flutters to her face is a relieved one. She didn’t think that Sylvain would say no – but it wasn’t like she was going to push the request if he did. This wasn’t something she’d typically push or even ask, really. Not unless there was something else for her to gain. ]

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves – no one said anything about working. Who knows if I’ll even be able to pick up those heavy trays full of beer?

[ She’s spent enough time in the bar to know that those looked heavy. Not that she was admiring Sylvain while he did it or anything – or if she did, she hadn’t been called out on it quite yet. ]

If you stay behind the bar, you're just filling glasses, not toting trays. [ Although he's done his share of both in his time here so far. ]

And believe it or not, I had plenty to fill my day back home. Too much, some days.

[ ...he'd still take his days here over that though, he thinks. ]

Will I actually get to stay behind the bar though?

[ The scepticism reads plainly on her face. Mags was kind but she ran a tight ship. If she had to, Hilda knew that she’d have to do more than just pour some drinks and flirt – which is what Sylvain seemed to do when she had met him in the Sarstina the first time around.

She stands, holding out a hand to pull him up from the bed. ]

Like what? Tell me while you show me how to bartend.

Maybe you should start out focusing on the bartending part before we add in storytime. [ He casts her a playful grin despite the words. ] And we'll see what we can work you up to. Don't worry, I wouldn't toss you into the deep end without making sure you know how to swim first.

[ When Sylvain returns to his room on the 14th, he'll find a pink gift box perched on his bed. Inside the nicely wrapped box, resting on white tissue paper, is a flower made from resin and wire. Its petals are in various shades of light blue each one made by Hilda herself. Underneath the flower is an envelope addressed to Sylvain written in Hilda's meticulous handwriting. The note inside is written on handmade paper, and the front will read: ]

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯,

𝘙𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘺!

𝘹𝘹 𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘢

[ If he flips the note over, he'll find another message. It's not clear if she expected him to find it, but either way, it looks like it's written a little more hastily than the note on the front. ]

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵? 𝘖𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦?

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 — 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯 — 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦? 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦, 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯!

𝘞𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩. 𝘞𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦, 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥.

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺? 𝘐𝘧 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.

( day two )

𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘺.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺. 𝘞𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘴?

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯?? 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦.

𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐.

[ Worried? Not Hilda. Worrying caused wrinkles. ]

𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘖???

𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘉𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺!

( week two, sent shortly after Petra and Hilda return from the desert )

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘫𝘦𝘳𝘬. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯.

[ She has a feeling this won’t go through, but she has to hope it will. ]

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺.

Edited (ADDING A TIME STAMP DON’T LOOK AT ME ) 2023-02-20 06:58 (UTC)

( Continuing from here )

[ The little coastal city is dark, an almost-full moon still fairly low in the sky, but bright enough to cast an easy illumination over everything as Sylvain leads Claude away from the restaurant. And away from the town itself, guiding him down the boardwalk that stretches out along the edge of the beach until he comes to one of the stone jetties that jut out over the water. The sound of the tide against the rocks is a soothing pattern as he carefully guides the both of them out to the end of the jetty, until all that stretches out before them is the sea and the moonlight on the water. ]

Here.

[ He offers his hand again with a slightly sheepish grin as he helps Claude sit down on the smooth rocks piled here, knowing his outfit and boots weren't exactly made for something like this. But the whim had struck, and he'd wanted to show Claude the place he'd found earlier because it had been peaceful and quiet. He wondered if it would remind Claude of home, and whether that was a good thing or not. But either way, they didn't have to stay long, if it wasn't something Claude ended up liking.

But in the meantime, it made for a pretty view and they still had half a bottle of wine to share. He sinks down on the rocks beside him, stretching his legs out in front of him as his shoulder bumps lightly against Claude's. ]

Sorry. I know it's a little random, but...

Edited 2023-02-27 04:01 (UTC)

[ This is not what he'd expected.

Sure, he'd rolled his eyes over being told he hadn't been paying attention on their way out of the restaurant - the eye roll also being valid on multiple levels in his mind - but. File this under another part of Sylvain he hadn't accounted for, perhaps seeing signs for it in the past which start to click into place as he's now led towards the jetty. It only takes Claude a second to piece everything together before he looks back to Sylvain in confirmation and in time to take the hand offered to him to get settled. ]

Maybe more than a little.

[ If it wasn't already clear he's teasing, the grin prominently on his face while he takes a seat on a particular rock to look out at what stretch of sea can be seen in the moonlight lightening the way before them might do it. A sight he's missed, he suddenly realizes, and not part of what he'd recreated in the Horizon while choosing to focus on other parts of home. ]

It works, though, considering this is as close as we can get to Derdriu any time soon and Cadens isn't exactly known for this view.

[ Speaking of that, kind of: he leans his head back to look up at the sky next and doesn't even notice the smile on his own face this time while surveying the stars above. ]

Not terrible at all.

[ That's approval. ]

[ Sylvain doesn’t heave an audible sigh of relief, but it’s a near thing. He hadn’t been sure how this part of his invitation would go over at all. But the sight of that smile on Claude’s lips is more than answer enough.

He curls one leg up and props an arm atop his knee, although he’s watching Claude instead of the water. ]

Glad you like it. [ There’s a grin in his own voice as he watches him a moment and then lets his gaze drift back to sea, wondering if he should ask the question that lingers on the tip of his tongue. ]

…Do you miss it?

[ Aware though he is of Sylvain's gaze on him, Claude doesn't move his own from the stars above as he notes which ones he now remembers the name of from studying constellations and astronomy books to match them to a new set for this new place. Odd, he thinks, that now it takes him a second to concentrate to remember the ones over Derdriu, and even further concentration to remember how the night skies where he'd grown up looked.

Time is a strange thing, and maybe that's what's also on Sylvain's mind when he asks his question. Claude waits until he can tell the other's eyes are elsewhere before shifting his own to look over without lowering his head. There's a strong temptation to answer that question with another one of his own, and even as he considers it he still could. It wouldn't be difficult.

But that'd be yet another deflection, wouldn't it? Trying something different can't hurt. ]

There's parts of Derdriu I miss, yes. I think that it's what I chose in the Horizon when I didn't have my memories probably makes it pointless to lie and say otherwise.

[ Since he'd thought about it for a second all the same then decided to not do it, and now he looks back up at the sky once more. ]

These days, sometimes it feels farther away than it probably should. What about you, regretting your choice to be stuck in the desert?

I’m pretty sure the desert chose me, actually, not the other way around.

[ It’s a flippant reply, almost automatic as he keeps gazing out over the sea. But he’d expected Claude to shoot the question back at him, especially after he’d answered it honestly, so he sighs and fidgets with the edges of his jacket. ]

No. [ As far as answers go, it’s short and blunt and maybe not what Claude expects. Then again, he has no idea what Claude does and doesn’t know of his past at this point. Or if his past was even the same, where Claude is from. ] No, I don’t miss it at all.

[ There’s a few people he misses. Felix, even though he’d had him briefly. Mercy. Dedue. Dimitri’s… complicated. Ingrid’s either relieved he’s gone or furious about his irresponsibility, regardless of whether or not his sudden absence was voluntary. But the rest of it…

He hadn’t been all that startled to discover that homesickness had never set in, in his time here. He’d wondered if it would, back in the beginning. He felt a lot of things about his home and what his absence meant. But mostly it was just guilt. ]

[ Sylvain's answer isn't entirely surprising, nor is the fact that he finds it so quickly when the question is volleyed back his way. A few moments go by where Claude contemplates that, still tracing over constellations with sight alone as he somewhat unintentionally lets that hang out there without a response in return.

There's a few things he could say to that including some platitudes which would be entirely meaningless. And there's much he doesn't know about Sylvain either which keeps him from prying into that answer, but there is part of it he can relate to. ]

When I left where I grew up, I felt the same way. I was so ready to leave that ever missing the only place I'd ever known seemed like an impossibility. But there were things that crept in over time when I least expected them, small as they were, and tallied up more than I thought they would.

[ Claude finally stops looking at the stars alone to look over at Sylvain even if the other man's still considering the sea, one corner of his mouth quirked upwards with a wry smile. All partial truths with calculated omissions, context deliberately waved away, something complex distilled into something simpler to offer. ]

That's not to say it'll happen here. And then again, maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing if it didn't.

[ He's never heard Claude say a word about where he'd spent his youngest years. He'd heard all the scandalized gossip, of course, when he'd just shown up in the Alliance, the Duke's new heir, and had always wondered about how that had come about. But it wasn't something Claude talked about, ever. And he knew all about pasts you'd rather leave buried and forgotten. He didn't know if it was the same, but he didn't feel right prodding into it, either.

So he'd waited for Claude to bring it up in his own time, if he wanted. And while this was close, he focused on the time period Claude's really addressing here, no matter how many more questions his statement had raised.

He pulls his gaze away from the sea to find Claude watching him, that faint hint of a smile playing about his lips. He searches his face, his expression thoughtful and curious. ]

Did it ever come to feel like home to you? House Riegan, the Alliance? The Deer?

[ There's a risk in telling Sylvain this, much as it barely scratches the surface of any truth. Claude's distributed a number of cover stories himself over the years with each one meant to misdirect more than the last. A tapestry of lies, all repeated enough to seem true enough, and something he'd started to slowly unravel over the war. But not anything Sylvain would know - it's not even something Hilda knows though he once again pushes away that familiar ache that's lingered since that realization hit him. Telling Petra had lessened it in some ways, and he has to consider what Felix told him when he'd found him in the inn for what it might mean elsewhere. What a strange predicament it is to be in of trying to protect some other version of yourself.

Still. All of that aside there are some things difficult to answer, and when Sylvain asks his next questions Claude's smile turns deliberately enameled in place. ]

Kinda think Derdriu being in the Horizon answers that one too, don't you?

[ He could leave it there. It'd be easy enough. To start brushing it away Claude reaches over for the wine but once the bottle's in his hands he does nothing more than roll it between his hands, still thinking as he looks down at it. ]

It did in some ways that I wasn't expecting. Mostly thanks to the Deer and Teach more than anything else.

[ Sylvain’s lips quirk faintly as he watches Claude’s reaction. ]

I dunno. Maybe. Sometimes it’s hard to tell when what you show is real, or when it’s just what you want everyone to think is real. [ Which is a little hypocritical of him, he knows, but Claude’s always been such a master at it that it puts even his acting skills to shame. ] But yeah. The Professor was pretty good at that. I mean, I’m assuming yours had the same effect on those around them that mine did.

[ Honestly, he’s not sure if he would have made it through those years at the Academy without her and her willingness to listen. To understand. Sylvain’s pretty sure she understood all of them better than they’d understood themselves. He lets his gaze drift back out to see again, staring at where it became the horizon in the far distance. ]

The Monastery was always more of a home to me than anywhere else. But even back then, I knew that wasn’t going to last forever. I’ve already had a long time to miss it, even before they dragged me here. It makes it easier, in a way, I guess.

[ That’s not something he’s admitted to a lot of people. Like Claude, ‘home’ isn’t an easy topic for him. But considering he’d poked at it - and the way Claude’s smile had frozen had told him he’d probably jabbed something he hadn’t meant to - it was only fair he give an honest answer back. ]

[ The question - he thinks it's a question even if it's not directly said as one - of what he shows to others gets a slight smirk while he keeps his gaze on the wine bottle, but that's the extent of his reaction. Nothing else is volunteered to that either, though at the mention of Teach that smirk softens into a fond smile. ]

To say the least. He was always good at getting others to open up to him even if he didn't always say much himself. Not at first, anyway. Teach opened up after a while himself though with all the chatterboxes in our house he didn't stand a chance to not, but that didn't stop him from spending a lot of time staring at us more than anything else.

[ Teach isn't really the focus here much as Claude does want to know more about the similarities and differences between the professors they know. That topic can wait for another time since he stops fiddling with the bottle to look up at Sylvain again. The other's expression doesn't offer him many clues beyond those statements he considers while pulling them apart and putting them back together again. There's more hidden in there, he's certain of it, even if he's been told to take things at face value.

After a bit he leans over to nudge Sylvain's shoulder with his own. ]

For what it's worth, you're not the only one who felt that way about the monastery being a home. Or a haven of sorts, which might be a better description and despite everything that happened there and after.

[ His lips curve faintly at that as he nudges Claude’s shoulder in return, pressed up against his side. The contact is comforting, even though the topic makes his stomach tighten into knots. He’s used to that, though, and ignores it like he normally does.

Reaching out, he steals the bottle back since Claude’s clearly not drinking it. Uncorking the top, he takes a long draw before offering it to Claude again with an arched eyebrow. ]

Yeah. I know it became that to a lot of people. Pity things couldn’t stay that way. [ He sighs, staring back up at the stars now as he leans back on his hands, braced behind his - and Claude’s - back. ] I do miss the people, though. Some of them. But here’s not so bad. When things aren’t, y’know, going all crazy and shit.

You mean you don't miss Hubert dearly? I'm sure he'd be absolutely crushed.

[ Things have veered a bit, not in a way that Claude finds unpleasant even if he's skirted around some of it (most of it) and Sylvain's done the same. This feels like that again, and, well - Hubert and all his glowering is always been a convenient target for jokes. Or was, he thinks, and then he does take a drink of the wine after all over all they're pointedly not mentioning before passing it back.

With a short laugh for good measure to go along with a glance back over his shoulder, since: ]

Don't say that too loudly and give the supposed old gods any more ideas. If I end up suddenly spilling more secrets don't think I won't blame you for it immediately, Gautier.

[ Sylvain can't help but give him a smirk at that, even if the secrets Claude had spilled last time... hadn't been ones Sylvain wanted to hear. They'll just skim over that part for now, okay? Okay. ]

Maybe spilling more of your secrets would be good for you, Riegan. You should try it sometime.

[ Taking back the bottle of wine, he takes another sip. And perhaps keeps a hold of Claude's hand instead of letting him take that back, too. ]

[ The usual instant retort is there, as it always is, about Sylvain will have to work harder than that to pry a secret, any secret free. But then Claude realizes - Sylvain's heard that plenty by now, hasn't he? And yet here he is, willing to suffer through being told to try again likely again even after hearing it so many times before and still asking. 'Asking' in the most abstract sense of what's admittedly a playful line, and yet he's still here and reaching for his hand.

Hm. It takes Claude a second to wipe away what he just knows has to be a dumb, too genuine smile before he looks up with a faux quizzical expression set into place. ]

And what secrets might those be, hm? Sounds like you have have a list of things you're waiting to check off there.

[ Maybe at any other time it'd be a dismissal if it was paired with wandering away like Claude might usually be tempted to do or if he changed the subject instead. But instead he just keeps his gaze trained on the other man, possibly expectantly, like he'd consider letting one slip now if asked.

Provided Sylvain chooses wisely. ]

[ It's not the dismissal or quipped diversion he's so used to Claude tossing his way when they talk about this, so it catches him off guard for a moment. He finishes swallowing it and looks over to search Claude's face and finds him watching him in turn. Waiting.

He freezes for a moment, because yes, he's likely collected a thousand questions by this point. Things Claude alludes to, or tries to hide, or just closes the door on entirely. Put unexpectedly on the spot, he doesn't even know where to start.

And considering how tonight's been, the last thing he wants to do is send the whole night careening sideways by prodding somewhere he shouldn't have. Which is why he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to answer, before meeting Claude's gaze again, something hesitant and sheepish in his gaze, although the smile he offers him is warm and honest. ]

...I do. But is it a copout to say I don't want any you're not ready to give me? [ And he has no idea where those start and stop right now. ]

It could be if you want it to be one. But it absolutely is if it's because you think I wouldn't just lie to you or change the subject if it was something like that.

[ Blunt, but just saying. It probably doesn't really need to be said since Sylvain knows that every bit as much having been on several receiving ends of just that. That there was some surprise from Sylvain about the offer is interesting - partially because Claude can only guess at what that means beyond some assumptions, and because there was that pause where it seemed to be under deep consideration rather than simply grabbing the first or any old question off that list. (Because now Claude knows there's definitely a list.)

When Sylvain rubs the back of his neck and sends him a look that is something else entirely, something honest even for the course of the night and sitting here together by themselves, that is - charming. Too charming, especially in the hands of someone skilled at being just that.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, so - ]

I'm not fragile, if that's what you're also asking me.

Trust me, that thought never even crossed my mind. [ In fact, he's chuckling at the very idea.

But he struggles to find the best way to describe it anyway. ]

It's more that... I know there are things you don't talk about, but I don't know where those lie among everything else. So rather than tripping blindly through a forest I'm not supposed to be trespassing in, as it were... I'd rather you guide the way where you've decided it's safe for me to be.

[ That's probably not the best metaphor, but it made sense in his head. ]

[ If asked, Claude couldn't say what he was expecting in response. One or more of those questions lobbed out anyway, probably, or anything along those same lines. He'd opened the door for it and so there's nothing to do but wait for whatever it'll be with what'll be needed to counter it waiting at the ready.

But by the time Sylvain finishes talking, Claude feels seen. To his surprise - though he really shouldn't be surprised at all - it's not the awfully unnerving variety of that feeling usually paired with when someone pries a layer loose he's not ready to reveal. This is different. This is careful consideration of wanting to do the opposite in a way which certainly suggests Sylvain's thought this through in more than this very instant. Something thoughtful and not in a way he thinks is anything but the truth because it speaks to care. Or caring, something that's impossible to feel anything but affection over.

Whatever the expression is on his face given that even Claude doesn't entirely know at this point, he's certain it's entirely too honest when he didn't have a way to prepare for this. It's a masterful way around his defenses. But one thing he does know is that he's going to overthink it and everything else if he sits with the chance for that to happen too much longer.

And so, in the spirit of something else from Nocwich all those months ago and entirely too much fondness he doesn't have an outlet for, Claude lifts his free hand to place it on the side of the other man's face to turn it more towards his own. There's no hesitation, no second thought when he leans in to kiss Sylvain a second later. That's a better answer than anything else he has to give. ]

[ The moment drags out long enough after his answer that he's beginning to wonder if he's stumbled somewhere he shouldn't despite the care he'd taken choosing his words. He's not sure he knows what the expression on Claude's face means, but he thinks Claude's not all that sure either.

He's just about to open his mouth to say something else, to apologize, to take it back, to do anything to somehow fix whatever he'd fucked up when he feels Claude's fingers on his cheek. He has a moment to blink, and then there's warm lips on his own.

His breath hitches, an audible inhale around his surprise, but considering how long he's thought about this, imagined it, he's quick to recover, leaning into that kiss. Meeting Claude in the middle, lips parted as he tastes him. His own hand lifts, sliding around to cup at the nape of his neck, fingers warm on exposed skin. Tangling in dark hair. The quiet sound he makes is muffled into the kiss, soft want mixed with pleased satisfaction. ]

[ The noise Sylvain makes cuts through everything else since he hadn't missed that flicker of something before he'd leaned in. Not with enough time to change his mind about what he was going to do after committing to not debating with himself, and if there was any question about anything, well. It's answered by the indelible fact that Sylvain is kissing him back.

Some of this might be easier if he, say, let go of Sylvain's hand. But rather than that he threads his fingers through the other man's to keep that contact on top of everything else, even while turning more in place to pull Sylvain a bit closer while deepening the kiss. There's the threat - a positive one - of getting swept away in everything since he can feel it starting between the other's hand on him, in his hair, simple as it is with the promise of more to come.

But. That would be too easy, wouldn't it? After a bit longer he breaks it but doesn't go far, what with pulling back just enough to grin against the other's lips with his thumb tracing over his cheek. ]

Might've been worth waiting several months for, [ is what he finally settles on murmuring, a rather severe understatement offset by pressing a kiss to the corner of Sylvain's mouth. ]

Might?

[ There's a playful note of indignation in that word as he nips at Claude's bottom lip in chiding for the insult. But there's warm laughter dancing in his dark eyes as his fingers stroke against the nape of the other man's neck, not pulling away. Reluctant to relinquish any of this closeness now that they've ventured this far. ]

Pretty sure this is the longest bout of flirtation I've ever participated in.

[ He almost said foreplay, because that also feels accurate here, but he's not jumping to assumptions just yet. Despite everything Claude had teased at dinner. Besides. He's pretty comfortable with finding out what pace they're both ready to move at together. Claude's already the exception to too many of the rules he's always lived by. ]

Edited 2023-03-04 18:56 (UTC)

Are you saying it should've been longer? Don't worry, we could can just pretend this didn't happen to take it back and draw it out some more.

[ Even if someone happened to be walking by just then with no further context, they wouldn't find Claude's teasing tone believable. Sylvain set himself up for that one even if there's no such thing as taking this back. Or there probably isn't, anyway, not without some concerted ignoring on both of their parts. It's not something Claude's planning on doing, but that doesn't mean he's not going to use it to tease all the same. ]

I wouldn't want to deprive you of truly setting a record after all.

[ One that'll have to only be in theory, further evidenced by shifting his hand to tuck longer strands of Sylvain's hair back behind his ear rather than pulling away even as for the umpteenth time tonight he puts on a faux thinking expression. ]

Another half a year might round it out nicely, wouldn't it?

Nope. Too late. You made the fatal mistake of admitting you liked me. You're not getting rid of me now. No take-backs.

Besides. You've pretty much broken every record I've had. [ It's confessed with a sheepish chuckle, but it's true enough. Sylvain never would have put so much effort into a mere flirtation back home. None of them had been worth weeks of pursuing, let alone months. ]

I have every faith that you will think up new and inventive ways of driving me mad, however, so it's not a complete loss on your part. [ His grin is cheeky as he lets his fingers smooth through Claude's dark hair, tugging lightly. But the echoing brush of Claude's fingers have his resistance crumbling again and he leans back in to steal another kiss. It's slow and deliberate, savoring the fact that this is real. That Claude hadn't pushed him away, or laughed, or just dismissed him entirely.

He could still kick himself for not pressing for more that day in Nocwich, but at the same time... it made this more special somehow. More important. This wasn't some potion-induced misadventure that Claude would come to regret when he sobered up again. It wasn't an impulsive indulgence that could turn into a wedge, or worse, a weapon.

...That doesn't mean he's not still resisting the urge to pinch himself, all the same. ]

That just makes it sound like there's still records left there to break. Maybe I was wrong and you're really just telling me to redouble my efforts.

[ Or - that really sounds a bit more like what Sylvain says following that more than anything else Claude's cobbled together to wedge into that meaning all of the sake of teasing the other. That's easier, to spin a meaning into something else, than to think for longer than a second about how endearing that chuckle had been. Like it was supposed to underscore what sounded like a truth even if Claude has nothing to compare it to and no one to ask if that was really the case.

Maybe that doesn't matter; it's not like the past affects anything they do here in ways they can control. The past is the reason they're sitting here, all those tangled paths centered around one mercenary with a sword and a gift and all those paths fading away to differences. All of it had to lead somewhere, didn't it?

But the present is Sylvain's mouth on his again after he leans in once more, and it's the pleased noise that escapes Claude when that hand in his hair pulls ever so slightly. It might've been muffled by the lips on his without much of a chance to reverberate since he's a little too distracted by this. All of it. The outline of something new and something else he's still figuring out and deliberately not looking at any closer to just let it exist.

It's with that in mind that it's Claude who breaks the kiss again after a little while and this time to lean his forehead against Sylvain's, a decision reached. ]

Not that your decision to bring us out here wasn't a good one, [ tacit approval once more as he keeps his tone light to prevent himself from changing the second half of his sentence, ] but there's also a rather nice hotel room not far from here.

I think you’ve safely moved on from breaking old records to making ridiculous new ones.

[ The words are smiled against Claude’s lips as he lingers in the kiss, dragging it out, fingers brushing slightly against warm skin and dark hair.

But Claude doesn’t pull away, even when he breaks the kiss this time and Sylvain allows one eyebrow to arch in playful inquiry. ]

That’s true. A very comfy one, at that. Don’t tell me you’re getting sleepy already?

[ The question is asked innocently enough, but the mischief dancing in his eyes likely gives him away. ]

[ Noted about the records, he thinks, though curiosity as to what they are doesn't end there. It can wait since Sylvain's just asking for it with that next part, really, so without further ado he tips his head back a bit for a well practiced and extremely fake yawn so that it's not completely in the other's face. But close enough. ]

You caught me. It took about a day and a half to put this dress on so it'll probably take that long to take it back off. We'll both need a nap by then.

[ It did no such thing - plus whatever struggle there was to get it on had been entirely Claude's fault due to a temporary lack of common sense, so logically the removal process will go smoother. That's also not completely the response he expected and the longer he thinks about it, the more a thread of doubt begins to creep in despite his best efforts to keep it away. Maybe he'd misread something somewhere along the way. He won't let that show on his face though, instead raising an eyebrow to return the teasing that's clear on the other man's face. ]

Or if that's your way of saying you're tired, then 'no thanks' is always an option. Sounds awfully boring for me, though.

Don’t worry. [ Sylvain’s voice is teasingly deadpan now. ] I happen to be an expert at removing dresses. I’ve got you covered.

[ Still there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips, like he’s fighting back a smirk. He pushes to his feet, however, before holding out a hand to help Claude up as well. ]

And no. Tired is the absolute last thing I am right now. [ He pauses, trying to gauge how much to say, before shrugging and deciding on trying honesty again. It seemed to be working alarmingly well for him tonight. ] I just didn’t want to assume how far you were comfortable going beyond kissing.

[ That he can laugh at, both because of the statement and the utter dryness with which it's said. ]

Alright, point taken. Maybe I should've said your outfit instead since I think it has considerably more layers.

[ Maybe; Claude didn't pay that much attention to the finer details of what he was putting on. That or any other clothing issues don't actually matter to him as he takes Sylvain's hand to get up and doesn't let go afterwards. But he does pause to run that next statement through his head a couple of times while they walk, because while he's sorely tempted to tease Sylvain about this - it still says something, Claude thinks, that the assumption wasn't made. He wouldn't have cared either way in the sense of taking offense, and yet. ]

So showing off these boots several times over wasn't direct enough, was it. [ Claude's trying to smother a grin without much success even if it's the maximum amount of teasing he's allowing himself. For now. ] Don't worry, I have ways of fixing that. But they still have to wait for a hotel room, so good thing we're headed there.

I happen to be almost as skilled at taking off men’s clothing as well. [ This time he is smirking playfully, since that was just a ridiculous statement in general.

Claude doesn’t release his hand and he finds he doesn’t mind that at all as they make their way back up the jetty towards the beach. Their fingers remain entwined, shoulders occasionally bumping as they walk together.

But he sees that grin anyway, Claude, and he just laughs softly, purposefully nudging into Claude’s side this time as they hit the boardwalk once more and he turns them back in the direction of town - and the inn awaiting them.]

Look, I don’t even need to make assumptions to know you’re the world’s biggest tease. And considering it’s me saying that, that’s really impressive. You’ve been tossing innuendo at me since the first night you found me here and I’m pretty sure you weren’t actually ready to tumble into bed with me all the way back there.

[ That's another point in Sylvain's favor - not that Claude's going to say as much in favor of a tsk as though he's somehow been offended by the implication (accurate statement) of teasing (a thing he was very much doing). Claude shifts his mouth to one side like he's thinking, possibly, if it wasn't for it being an attempt to hide yet another smile. ]

Maybe I was just waiting for you to be as fully skilled at taking off men's clothing in the meantime. Or, more accurately, [ definitely more accurately, ] I was trying to figure out if you were planning on killing me or not. Well, at first, since even I can't pretend that part lasted for more than a month or so.

[ Saying it nonchalantly makes that truth more palatable, right? Probably not, but he's not planning on giving Sylvain too much time to dwell on it with the inn drawing ever closer. Not when there's something better to add to that, too. ]

Nocwich had something to do with in there, too. And if we're reaching that far back to point things out, then might I also remind you I'm pretty sure I've mentioned I like when the odds of something are in my favor. Playing them certainly worked out well for this.

[ His steps stumble in an uncharacteristic moment of clumsiness, and were it not for their fingers still entwined and the fact that Claude was still walking, he might have stopped right there on the boardwalk to gape at him in shock. ]

Wait, you thought I was gonna kill you?! [ He is so… very confused right now. ] For a whole month?!

…Man. I really need to rethink my flirting technique with you entirely, don’t I?

[ Sylvain's surprise practically shifts the air between them even before that false step telegraphs it through their linked hands. It's expected. Here's where he should respond with a shrug and play it off as something else. In on the joke, like it is one. Instead there's a long moment - too long of a moment - where Claude says nothing and continues to look at Sylvain sidelong in silence. Cynicism and skepticism certainly are difficult habits to shake and they come to the forefront again momentarily.

He could just laugh. It'd take all of a second to do it, ready as that reaction among all the others always is. But they've been trying at honesty here and there, and Claude's not ready to undo that. All of that is a series of quick calculations shifting one factor here and another there before he finally says, ] Let's just say it wouldn't be the first time someone wanted me to put my guard down for their own reasons.

[ Claude's smiling while he says this as he looks back ahead of them again, but that smile doesn't extend anywhere past its edges. That's all the explanation Sylvain gets. ]

[ But Sylvain tugs him back, holding tight to his hand, his other arm snaking around Claude’s waist as he glances down at him with a slight frown. He searches Claude’s face, the moonlight casting long shadows across his features.

There’s so much layered in those words, but again, he’s not sure how much of it -if any - is safe to prod at. But he can guess. He knows too much not to be able to piece together some idea of what Claude’s referring to. Which is infuriating, honestly, and he wishes he knew who it was so he could return the favor with a blade through their cowardly guts.

Lifting his hand, he slides his fingers along Claude’s jaw this time. Struggling with his own emotions, but pushing it aside for now. The fact that Claude hadn’t laughed this off was telling enough in itself. ]

I guess I can’t blame you, in that case. Although usually when I get accused of having my own motives, it’s often for far more scandalous reasons.

[ He wishes he could give Claude promises to reassure him, but despite everything, he’s not sure how much weight his word actually holds. Besides, when it comes to loyalty, he’s always thought actions spoke louder anyway. Promises were all too easily broken. ]

For what it’s worth, I’m far more likely to pester you with terrible innuendo about weapons than actually using one on you. [ Not wanting to completely ruin the mood, he lets his hand drop away from Claude’s cheek as he gets them walking again. ] Then again, between your shaft and my spear, the possibilities there are conveniently endless.

[ It's the pull back that makes Claude think, mistake even if the expression on his face doesn't change from something pleasant. As a result he's looking at Sylvain without realizing seeing the other, already planning five steps ahead for something to say to brush it off when whatever reaction it'll be is just another version of whatever else he's already heard when mentioning some smaller piece of this rather than this particular secret he's chosen to trust Sylvain with.

Except that reaction never comes, and when a hand that's quickly becoming familiar finds his face Claude has to blink Sylvain back into focus after all. Whatever he was going to say about it obviously being some reference to the war only is forgotten when he registers the look on the other's face. It's not what he expected; in fact, it seems almost like understanding if he looks close enough.

Guess I can't blame you, Sylvain says, rather than what most people would do: be upset they were even tangentially accused of something nefarious or upset over being grouped in with those who're capable of it. Claude's not going to ask about that either even though he could. The opportunity to do so is right there. Sylvain doesn't question him more about what he meant so he follows that lead, but not without feeling like he's been handed something valuable. Something he'll hoard away to think about for a while, something that feels like a gift.

Aside from terrible not quite puns - this, at least, is something far more familiar and easy to slip back into with a predictable groan and roll of his eyes to wash that prior conversation away. At least his smile this time around is less of an act. ]

Please tell me you aren't about to put one of the collapsible swords in your pockets in hopes I'll ask if there's something in there or if you're just happy to see me. Don't think I won't kick you out of bed for that particularly terrible innuendo if it's on your list of them.

Pretty sure you have to get me into your bed before you can kick me out of it.

[ It's easy enough, to slip back into old teasing habits. Lighthearted banter. As if something deep and dark hadn't just been shared and acknowledged between them. Old wounds that may never completely heal over. He's not surprised to find Claude has them, too. Maybe he'd recognized that in him from the start.

But he'll deal with the implications of that at another time. Tonight's not the right time for that. And with the inn coming into sight ahead of, windows brightly lit from within, it has him tugging Claude along with him again, like an overeager child. ]

And no, that wasn't what I had in mind at all, but considering it would annoy you that much, I may have to reconsider it on principle.

That's the whole point of where we're headed now, isn't it? C'mon, Gautier, keep up.

[ As if there's anything to chide over - as if Sylvain's actually somehow forgotten despite being the one pulling him along to their destination (and as if there's any resistance on his part, which there isn't). It's more fun to play up something that feels inevitable what with how every path they've been on for months now led here like they were meant to in the end. ]

Unless you're implying you won't be kicked out of my bed at any point. In which case - I'll take that into consideration depending on how tonight goes.

[ With a smirk over one shoulder just because as they reach the inn's front doors and Claude grabs the nearest handle to pull it open for them to lead both through. Or, well, maybe one of them. ]

Gentlemen first, since you're being one despite that I never claimed I would be myself.

I'm always a gentleman, thanks.

[ That's such a lie that it's impressive he manages it with a mostly straight face as he precedes Claude into the quiet lobby beyond the front doors. It's growing late, so he bypasses any of the workers here and tugs Claude immediately towards the stairs that leads up to their room on the third floor. He might have splurged on it, getting them a comfortable one with a balcony that overlooks the sea. If they were going to make a Trip of this, might as well make it memorable. ]

And I don't plan on getting myself kicked out of your bed. Does that count?

[ That just gets a snort of laughter from him since even if Sylvain's keeping it together, Claude's too entertained to pretend like there's any other reaction he's going to have. Not that any of it matters to him anyway, what with how manners and etiquette from Fodlan's tight grip on how things should be done matter here. All of that's left behind.

Speaking of pretending: he is going to do just that while they walk up the stairs, using the ascension to look like he's very seriously contemplating this with the appropriate amount of time needed. Even if there's a good chance Sylvain's rather familiar with this particular antic of his by now, what with how often it's used, but. Once they make it upstairs and while Sylvain handles the door, that's the perfect time to shrug. ]

I suppose it could count for something. That'll have to remain to be seen, don't you think?

[ Circular answer time: everyone's favorite. There is actually a point he's going to make in there, probably, but when the door opens it's replaced by Claude raising his eyebrows. Maybe earlier hadn't been the only thing planned for if this is anything to go by, and after a glance at the bed he approaches the doors leading to the balcony to peer out them curiously while making no move to actually go back outside. ]

Interesting you decided to forego this view for the one from the harbor. Or, [ with great deliberation as Claude turns in place to lean his back against the door and without bothering to hide his smirk, ] maybe you have a better view in mind.

I'm pretty sure you've already been providing that all evening.

[ Claude's comment is countered easily and with a cheeky grin as he playfully gives the other man's form - still clad in the bet of the evening - a pointed once-over. He nudges the door shut behind him, leaving them in the quiet privacy of the room, and takes a few steps towards him where he waits at the balcony doors. ]

But I could have you thinking my reputation was all just idle gossip now. Besides. If I want to coerce you into a second date, I wanted to make a good impression. I seem to recall you being way out of my league, after all.

[ That hadn't had anything to do with it, actually. He'd just thought Claude would like the view from the jetty. It's also the reason he'd picked this room at the inn, as well. He'd wanted it to be... special. ]

No, this, [ as he lifts one hand to wave it along his body in the exact path Sylvain's eyes had just traced, just to emphasize he'd noticed that and each and every other gaze like it, ] is just one view of many. And when I say 'many' I mean think of all the possibilities.

[ For a second he almost says aim higher, but that aligns a little too closely with the rest of what Sylvain's said and for that Claude needs a little more time to parse through whether it was supposed to be a compliment with an edge where the blade of it's something Sylvain's using on himself or if it simply sounded like it.

But. Now's not the time for that when the room's door is properly closed and Sylvain, despite dragging up his reputation once more, seems to be contemplating walking this way. And really - even as someone prone to overthinking anything and everything - Claude thinks that won't do. ]

If you need some help narrowing it down, let's start with this: you can either get on the bed, or you can sit here. [ Said paired with a gesture of his hand to each place in question, the latter being an oversized armchair in the nearest room corner with a nice view of the sea outside, not that he plans on either of them enjoying it for that right now. Maybe later. ] Your choice.

[ Sylvain's eyebrow arches upwards as his feet stop, giving him a moment to debate those possibilities. And while the chair looks plenty comfy...

He moves to sink down on the edge of the bed closest to Claude, leaning back to prop himself up on his hands as he grins at the other man. ] Figure I'd save future!me the delay of moving here eventually anyway. More possibilities over here. Although the chair does sound like fun. Maybe we can try that one out later.

More possibilities on the bed, huh. Don't write the chair off so easily even with a 'later' thrown in there.

[ Teasing aside, that's all Claude needs to push off from where he'd been leaning against the balcony doors, smirk still as present as it has been through this exchange. Easy then to step forward himself, to use his hands to part Sylvain's knees if needed so he can stand between them.

And here might be where a pithy comment would fit or be expected, but instead Claude places both hands on Sylvain's jaw again to tilt his head up to kiss him as he leans down. Sight's not needed for this next part as he trails fingertips down Sylvain's neck towards his chest to remove his overcoat in one practiced motion to set it aside on some other part of the bed.

Next is the vest, ready as he is to get his hands beneath it despite undoing the buttons in no particular hurry one by one. Until the last one which seems to be sturdier than the rest for whatever reason and he breaks the barely started kiss to frown down at the particularly troublesome button. If it wasn't such a nice outfit - or someone's besides his own - he'd be tempted to sacrifice it to a fate of being sewn back on later. On second thought: anticipation works both ways. Making Sylvain suffer some of his clothes for a while longer isn't the worst idea.

To the belt buckle it is, though Claude lets his one rest there without any particular intent. Yet. The other hand goes to the back of Sylvain's head to tangle in his hair for a light tug in case his attention had wandered. ]

Your turn to share something, by the way.

Maybe I’m just building more anticipation for the ‘later’.

[ His grin is still cheeky, but then Claude is crossing the room towards him and he sits up a little straighter. Legs spread to accommodate Claude moving in between them and his hands slide up over his hips to rest at his waist as those clever fingers tip his head back for another kiss.

There’s no resistance in him, only a soft sound muffled against Claude’s lips as he chases them. And then the other man sets about stripping him out of his jacket and vest - or mostly, and he can’t help but grin a little impishly when one of the buttons proves uncooperative.

He doesn’t have time to laugh, however, because Claude’s hand shifts down over his belt instead and he gives a stuttered inhale, faint shiver slipping down his spine. One that repeats itself a moment later at the feel of fingers tangling in his hair, tugging. It has his eyes darkening a shade as he looks up at the man leaning over him.

Don’t worry, Claude, you have every bit of his attention right now. Although if you were expecting a clever retort to that response, he’ll end up disappointing you, caught off guard by the statement that didn’t match the rest of what he was currently paying attention to. ]

Huh?

[ Sturdy hands coming to rest on his waist as certainly appreciated. That skip in the other's breath is very interesting, far more so than whatever avenue Claude was about to proceed down though when it seems like Sylvain doesn't follow it either - for whatever reason, since Claude can't say he truly cares in light of this - but he allows himself another smirk all the same rather than the chuckle that's threatening to slip out instead. ]

Not paying attention, are we? Hm. [ That's not the case and Claude knows it, apparent as it is that Sylvain's gaze is entirely focused on him. ] Don't worry, I can help with that.

[ No more belt as a resting place for now as he moves to set it on Sylvain's knee in another temporary measure. Now to clarify that prompt a little bit more. ]

I think you've already told on yourself about imagining this what with bringing up bending me over this or that at dinner. [ Because Claude certainly hadn't forgotten that either, and just to make his point he slides that hand on Sylvain's knee slowly along the inside of his thigh heading north. ] That's what I meant about sharing, considering I know that can't be all you've pictured.

[ More of a guess than a 'know' but if Sylvain's paying attention: Claude's telling on himself in terms of imagining things as well. ]

Oh, don't worry, I'm paying very close attention.

[ Claude's hand sliding up his thigh really doesn't make it any easier to get out anything coherent, but he manages it. Faint smirk lingering on his lips, his own hands shift, one sliding forward from his hips to rest against the outside of Claude's thigh, just below his hips. Where there just happens to be nothing between his palm and warm skin as he slides it up higher, under the blue fabric of the skirt.

It was only fair, after all, considering where Claude's hand was sliding. ]

You know that, huh? [ Amusement colors his voice as his thumb slides against warm skin he can't see, letting his hand slip back to playfully tug Claude a little closer. ] Not saying you're wrong, but since when did you pick up mindreading?

[ He's pictured a lot, Claude. Hazards of you having spent months being a terrible tease. Fortunately, he has a very vivid imagination. ]

Of course you are.

[ Even if Sylvain somehow wasn't - Claude's not going to offer a chance for anything but complete attention. Of course, there's an obvious destination at the end of his hand's path. Which is also why Claude, in a different and likely equally predictable move, veers off the course at the last minute to trace the seam of where Sylvain's thigh meets his hip back along the outside of it after deciding fabric in the way won't do.

He's pulled a bit closer which gets another smirk from Claude before he leans in to steal an intentionally short kiss to cover up taking another step forward of his own. That hand of Sylvain's on the move is distracting, but not enough to throw him off from his mission yet. All the better for Claude to tug that offending and still mostly unbuttoned vest up enough to slip a couple fingertips beneath Sylvain's waistband to conveniently brush what little amount of skin is there.

Not enough for his liking since he'd rather the shirt wasn't in the way, but he can be patient. His hand once in red hair drops to the back of the other's neck to study him while sliding his fingertips along the inside of the waistband, and this time the belt buckle gets undone. ]

Who says it's mindreading when we've already been over what you can learn from watching someone? And trust me, I already know I'm right. [ The closure to the pants goes next and now with extra room to work, Claude slips his hand inside but no further and waits with his hand now resting on Sylvain's lower stomach. ] Might as well spit out whatever it is since you might like what you're rewarded with.

[ His stomach sucks in a little on an inhale as Claude's fingers tease against warm flesh but his dark eyes never leave Claude's face, a hint of a smirk still lingering on his lips. His hand slows, but only because it's slid around the back of Claude's thigh and rests there for a moment, heated and steady and out of sight. Teasing in the same way Claude's own fingers are - with the anticipation of what next? ]

You want me to start listing things now? We might be here a while... [ You shouldn't be shocked he has an entire list, either. ] At the moment, I want your hand to move a little lower. And for you to lean back down here so I can kiss you again.

Implying that we aren't going to be here for a while anyway, I see.

[ There's a hum from him after that like he's actually disappointed or anywhere close to it since Sylvain's good as confirmed something else without him even having to ask. It's hardly a standoff that they're in with hands paused on each other, but Claude's well aware he could draw this out more.

The temptation to teach Sylvain to be a lot more specific in what he asks is certainly there given that 'a little' could mean a lot of different things and not just the obvious implication. Maybe he'll save that for later since for now he slips his hand down as requested to wrap his fingers around the base of Sylvain's cock in compliance but no further - yet - while leaning in with a smirk. ]

Better?

I hope we’re here for a very long time, but there are better things to be doing with our mouths.

[ Starting with kissing, at the very least. Even if that gets interrupted by the very audible inhale as warm fingers curl around the base of his half-hard cock. Hazards of Claude being a tease all night and his own anticipation getting the better of him. ]

It’ll do for a start.

[ He knows Claude means to keep dragging this out, so instead, his hands slide up to cup against the other man’s ass - one atop the skirt while the other is very much still beneath it. A short yank, meant to drag the leaning man the rest of the way between his legs and against him as his own thighs tighten slightly to trap him there. Freeing the hand on the outside of the skirt, he lifts it to thread fingers through dark hair… and then not so gently tug Claude the rest of the way down for that kiss.

It’s less soft and gentle this time. Now there’s a hint of demand, of impatience, as teeth scrape lightly against Claude’s lip as he delves deeper. That smirk really is going to drive him crazy before the night’s out. ]

[ That inhale is gratifying in more ways than one but particularly how it undermines Sylvain's attempt at sounding casual about it being a start, or how Claude hears it as that anyway. It seems less so when he's yanked forward in a way which just makes his smirk grow wider, too content with that reaction of insistent hands and strong thighs around him. A start indeed and far from a bad one. ]

If you've been this hard for a while already, I think I'll just have to do something about that eventually.

[ It's probably for the best the decision he can't keep running his mouth is made for him. There's a pleased hum that escapes him though it ends up muffled against Sylvain's mouth on his and slipped into a kiss he much prefers. Being treated politely is nice and all, but the teeth against his lips as a warning, an invitation, maybe both, are much nice. He'll take it as an invitation, leaning forward more to meet Sylvain with just as much demand and enthusiasm as he pushes the kiss deeper yet.

And as for his hand: he'd meant that, and they've reached 'eventually' when a delay was more of a suggestion than any reality. At first he'd kept it still but now Claude moves it in an unhurried stroke along the length of Sylvain's cock to let the other harden in his grasp. He'll take his time, less to tease (for now) than to let Sylvain enjoy the sensation if he does, and the return stroke from tip to base is just as slow in anticipation of more attention to come. ]

Eventually, huh?

[ There's a wry note to his tone as he murmurs the words against Claude's lips, unwilling to break away from the kiss. He keeps him held close as he kisses him, tongue pressing in to taste and explore. It's rougher than before, than when they were in public. A little wilder, a little less controlled. The impatience is still lurking underneath, along with the curiosity, the need to explore every inch of him, to learn him.

The hand sliding against his cock has his breath stuttering again, skin sensitive beneath the heated touch, although he resists the urge to buck up into it, chasing the delicious friction of it. Instead, he shifts a leg and a moment later, he slides it in between Claude's legs and tugs the other man down to straddle his thigh. It spreads Claude's own legs enough for him to slip that hand beneath the skirt around to tease fingertips in over the line of his hip and down to the inside of his thigh, questing upwards from there. Exploring by touch alone, wandering up until he found what he was seeking in turn, with the intent to tease Claude in the same way. ]

[ A grin's there and gone in a second after Sylvain speaks, the longest it's allowed before he's drawn in for another kiss. Something he doesn't mind at all since Sylvain is a good kisser, Claude's quickly discovered, or more like an excellent one.

And while he hadn't planned on taking a seat on Sylvain's lap quite yet, Claude puts up no resistance to being pulled down. Something his back will thank him for rather than continuing to lean, as fun as it had been to keep a distance for the purpose of teasing. Convenient that his hand's still on the back of Sylvain's neck since as much as he'd like to wind his fingers right back red hair, he'll forego it now to run his fingers down the side of it, along a collarbone, and then to take hold of the tie still helpfully in reach. ]

Is eventually not specific enough for you?

[ With another slow stroke of Sylvain's cock to make sure all of that focus is still on him as he trails a thumb across the head in what Claude knows isn't nearly enough. Before he can commit to something more, Sylvain's hand finds him and now it's time for his own breath to hitch. The benefit of wearing a voluminous skirt is that it'd hidden all of those noises from Sylvain had gone straight to his cock, but there's no concealing how hard he is now. And one of them might've exercised some restraint, but Claude doesn't bother as he shifts his hips to find more of Sylvain's touch with no hesitation while pulling away from the kiss again. ]

Maybe if you'd - [ pause to swallow back whatever noise Sylvain nearly dragged out of him - ] asked me about my plans for you are, you would've liked that answer better.

[ Sylvain hums, but its hard to tell if that’s in consideration for Claude’s words or in pleased surprise to have found him already hard and ready under his skirt. Feeling the other man press more firmly into that touch, shifting in against him, has his lips quirking up, pleased, as he finally breaks the kiss. But only to trail his lips back along a stubbled jaw, occasionally nipping at the warm flesh beneath his mouth.

He slips the fabric of Claude’s smallclothes out of the way to stroke fingers along the underside of his cock. Not missing the way his own breath hitches in response, or that his words stutter over what he’d been about to say. Although he’s disappointed you didn’t let him hear that noise, Claude. He’s going to have to make sure to drag the next one out of you.

Still, by the time Claude gets that sentence out, Sylvain’s lips are already curving into a smirk once more. An echoing stroke of his fingers as they curl about the base, a slight twist of his wrist to tease with further friction. ]

Oh, you must have had some very entertaining plans indeed. Now I’m curious. [ Shifting his thigh slightly to rub up against Claude from beneath him, he continues to stroke him slowly, watching his face. ] What have you been plotting, Claude?

I dunno why you're talking about my plans in the past tense when I'm not. They haven't changed unless you're asking because your deepest desire is to only come once.

[ This feels important to mention even if there's a chance Sylvain hadn't meant that quite as literally as Claude's taken it. They are, after all, doing their best to distract each other. Why not add as many layers as possible to it?

The touch he's offered isn't enough even if it's fair payback for the languidly slow pace at which he's been stroking Sylvain. As much as he'd like to shift again to follow the contact Sylvain gives him, Claude wills himself to stay in place though the fingers he curls into the other man's shirt likely give something away. That'd be too much of a reaction even if he looks down at the other man with eyes half-lidded after leaning back to catch his gaze, though that contemplation's reserved entirely for Sylvain as he pauses with his hand halfway up the other's length. ]

I could always make you guess what they are since you're the one who mentioned there being so many possibilities for the bed. Maybe I'll even let you try whatever it is if you guess correctly.

[ While he's pretending to give Sylvain time to think it over, Claude resumes moving his hand and this time at a faster pace - but also with a far looser grasp so at least half of those touches are too light for anything other than letting Sylvain know the proximity of where his hand is. Or could be. ]

Oh, I think between the two of us, we can come up with way more ideas than that.

[ His thumb traces over and around the head of Claude's cock, adding to the stimulation as he strokes him steadily. Taking in that half-lidded gaze with a curve of lips, the way Claude keeps himself from moving, just as Sylvain had earlier. But as Claude goes on to prompt for him spilling more of those possibilities, he gives a low, husky laugh and shifts once more.

But this time it's a twist of his torso as he brings Claude with him, toppling the other man sideways onto the mattress until he can reverse their positions. Claude on his back on the bed with Sylvain leaning over him, one knee presses to the mattress between his thighs. And the skirt of the damned dress riding up to show even more skin. Although his hand never moves away, distracting all in its own as he smirks down at the other man. ]

If you're still thinking this much, I'm clearly doing something wrong. [ His gaze is already flitting down the sight now splayed out before him in appreciation. And maybe calculation on where to start. ]

[ He'd been toying with tipping them back further onto the mattress, what with it seeming like all the space around them going to waste being a shame, but Sylvain beats him to it. The second the other twists he's already following with a grin that grows a little wider since the sight of Sylvain over him is certainly a nice one.

One eyebrow's arched at the mention of thinking this much but before Claude can make some comment about now which one of them is lost in contemplation given how he can practically see those calculations written across Sylvain's face. But then, there's always something else first with how that gaze is trailing over him. ]

There'd be a much better view if you got me out of this dress like you'd promised.

[ Promised in the loosest sense of the term, that is, and not that he's going to really give Sylvain a chance to think about it. He might be somewhat pinned in place - not that he minds that at all - but with enough room still free, Claude wraps a leg around Sylvain's waist to pull him closer. One hand goes into the other's hair to keep him there and he brings the other to join Sylvain's, except now he wraps it around both of their cocks for a faster pace than before. All followed by rocking his hips up for even more friction which gets a noise in the back of his throat while watching Sylvain's face. ]

Think I'd rather have you on your back at some point. Or on your hands and knees.

Did I promise that?

[ There’s a grin in his words as Claude hooks a leg around him to draw him in closer and he lets himself be pulled, although he’s still bracing his weight on his arms and a knee, keeping Claude’s thighs helpfully spread.

The feeling of Claude’s fingers stroking both of their cocks together is enough to get a husky moan from him, as well, eyes going dark as he rocks down into that friction, grinding down against the other man. The fingers in his hair hold him in place, but he strains enough against it to steal another hungry kiss, relishing the tug and pull of it. The feeling of Claude keeping him right where he wanted him. It’s a surrender of control he rarely allows. Not without a lot of trust. Which, unfortunately, is something he could rarely afford in the bedroom.

He smirks against Claude’s lips, however, another teasing rock of his hips down against the man’s own arousal. ]

We’ve got all night. Pretty sure there will be plenty of time for you to have me in as many ways as you want me.

[ At the question of a promise there's a roll of his eyes though it's not much of one. Mostly because it's interrupted by that moan that makes it impossible to think of anything else but Sylvain and more so when there's hips meeting his before he can lift his own again.

There might've been an expletive on the tip of his tongue but it's cut off by lips on his and instead it goes into that kiss along with a moan due to that friction both being good and not enough. At that smirk afterwards his grip in Sylvain's hair tightens for a second, but then he considers what's said while catching the other's bottom lip between his teeth for a second. ]

Is that a promise? [ Claude steals an intentionally lighter kiss this time, though afterwards he doesn't drop back right away to instead grin against Sylvain's mouth. ] I'm not gonna say no to getting what I want.

[ Even if the implication's as clear as it could be - or maybe isn't really at all, given that those hips are entirely too distracting - getting what he wants will certainly benefit Sylvain or so he intends. More than Claude might want to think about, really, were he capable of following any other train of thought besides more contact, another roll of hips to match a hand in a more insistent pace.

Except. There's still one idea tied to all of this equally pressing in his mind. ]

Which way to start then eventually in that 'all night' mentioned, you on your back so I can ride you or you on your knees so I can fuck you?

Somehow I didn't think you would. [ That smirk is very audible in his voice now as he gets the words out between nipping kisses and the teasing rock of his hips, driving them both to distraction with the sensation. ] And I suppose I could be persuaded to give my word on that one. It is mutually beneficial, after all.

[ Reluctantly tearing his lips away, he only moves far enough to trail kisses back along Claude's stubbled jaw and then down his throat, lips and teeth leaving faintly reddened skin in his wake. He groans at the suggestions Claude breathes out, hips stuttering as his hands move to roam once more, sliding down over Claude's hips, shifting the angle of his own movements the next time he rocks down onto him. ]

All good options. Let's not forget still bending you over the nearest convenient surface. And if I don't feel you spilling down my throat at least once tonight, I'm calling the whole night a loss. Fair warning.

[ Persuasion gets a laugh from him since - to Claude - it sounds like all that's needed is a little nudge that direction. He means to go in for yet another kiss but then there's teeth against his neck that earn Sylvain a shiver when they pass over a particularly sensitive spot. Whatever comment Claude had is lost to that groan from the other man, the stutter he can feel, and that there's hands moving over him and he's never been quite so dismayed to have fabric still in the way. Impatience has him arching slightly in search of more. ]

Well, what are you waiting for? [ That is decidedly not nearly as nonchalant as he'd aimed for it being, but Sylvain can have that small victory since he can't think of a way to make it less so. ] Time to put your ideas and your mouth to use since I'd hate to throw away the whole night otherwise.

[ He withdraws the hand stroking them both to place it on the duvet beneath him as further encouragement. But then one more realization strikes Claude first, and before Sylvain moves or before he gets too far away that hand in the other's hair is abandoned to take ahold of his chin to hold his attention in the briefest flash back to the desert. ]

Don't touch yourself. I want to be the one to get you off.

[ Normally, there'd be a 50/50 chance on whether or not Sylvain would actually let that slide. Too used to controlling the situation when he was in the bedroom, he was far more accustomed to being the one giving the orders. But there was something in the way Claude holds his gaze, his fingers warm along his jaw, that has him stilling, the instinctive retort that had jumped to the tip of his tongue dying before he could give it voice.

He licks his lips, throat working around a thick swallow, before he manages a faint nod and a quirk of his lips. As if that hadn't been the hottest command he'd ever heard Claude utter. ]

I think that can be arranged.

[ Okay, so maybe his voice gave away a little more than he liked over how much that had affected him, but his fingers have dropped to tease against Claude's cock once more in a hopeful distraction so maybe he won't pick up on it.

Still, there's something amusing in sliding the soft fabric of the skirt higher up on Claude's hips to get it out of his way as he shifts back down the bed, still kneeling between Claude's legs. Hands follow his progress, skimming a light caress down over hips and then along the inside of his thighs as Sylvain bends to trail kisses up the inside of heated flesh. Teasing closer as he goes.

It's only fair, he thinks.

Still, when he does reach Claude's very obvious arousal, there's no hesitation in him as he slides his hand away and leans in to lick a hot stripe up the underside of his cock, pausing to swirl his tongue around the tip as he glances up the length of Claude's body. ]

[ Oh, it was noticed. Even though Sylvain's hands on him and all of those touches are distracting in the best ways, they aren't enough for Claude to forget that telltale swallow or the change in his voice that pointed to something different than 'I think' suggests alone.

Those details are filed away for later but still within easy reach to pull out again with all the others he's picked up. For now it's enough to watch the hands moving over him with far too light of a touch for his liking as Sylvain works a trail with his mouth to a destination. The end isn't quite the obvious but the tongue working over him more than earns a moan as his thighs tense in lieu of lifting his hips again. At first, because when Sylvain's tongue moves across the head of his cock there's the slightest shift suggesting it's barely being resisted.

And just as importantly: that heated look he receives is a problem because he knows Sylvain knows exactly how effective it'll be, and now the smallest groan of frustration escapes him even if he might regret giving that way. ]

Now who's being a tease?

[ Claude knows that's the point. It's not going to stop him from lightly complaining to spur the other on like they both aren't enjoying this, or from winding his fingers into the fabric beneath his hands rather than putting them into Sylvain's hair again. Not without more first. ]

[ Lips curve into a smirk as he torments sensitive skin with his tongue. Watching what reactions he can catch play out over Claude's expression, feeling the faint shudder that shivers through the thighs he presses down to the bed. His gaze remains locked on Claude's face, enjoying the sounds he drags from Claude's lips, frustrated or not. He doesn't miss the way he fists his fingers in the sheets rather than reaching for Sylvain once more and hmm. Still way too much control then. Time to do something about that. ]

Turnabout is fair play and all that.

[ Not that he intends to continue to drag it out, not just now. Which is why his lips part further and he sucks Claude's length into his mouth, working him deeper at a deliberate pace - not too fast, but certainly more than the teasing would have indicated. His tongue laves along the underside of his length, adding to the sensations as he focuses all his attention - and considerable skills - on seeing just how well he could unravel Claude's dearly-held control. Fingers curl at the base of his cock, stroking shallowly, layering stimulation atop stimulation, even as he keeps Claude's hips pinned to the bed. Only letting him take what Sylvain is willing to give him right now. ]

[ He's got a retort for that, he does, but it and most other thoughts are cleared away like they never existed when Sylvain's teasing (mostly) ends. Instead it's replaced by a choked off swear even as he props himself up an an elbow for a view which certainly delivers every bit as the mouth and tongue working over his cock with all of that expertise, with every touch incrementally fraying a bit more of his composure with each building upon the last. It's too much to hold back any moans, so that's the first holding back to go.

The hands on his hips certainly prevent him from going anywhere, but that doesn't Claude doesn't still try to follow the other's mouth up to the point where it's prevented. That's enough for him to roll his head back on his neck for a second in fleeting frustration again, but once Sylvain's hand moves along his length it's right back to enjoying the view. ]

Remember what they say about payback, Gautier.

[ Threats don't sound like much of one at all when you're far past breathless from enjoyment, it turns out. His hands have crept closer, Claude realizes suddenly when the texture beneath them changes, but now it's the skirt he'd been cursing mere moments ago that he holds onto. Convenient, at least, for a stopping place in between where they were and where they might yet go, but stubbornness surfaces in not letting control be wrested from him so soon.

Or - more accurately, he's holding onto the last strands of it. ]

[ Lips curve into a smirk around Claude's cock as he bobs his head, taking him deep in response to that comeback. Threat? Whatever. That's the least threatening thing Claude could have offered him, anyway. In fact, he's counting on it. Looking forward to it, even. Even if he knows Claude will likely have him cursing and moaning just as much.

His thumb rubs over the vein at the base of his cock as he pulls back enough that only the tip of him is still encased in tight wet heat. His tongue swirling around sensitive skin, tracing under the head and along the slit before he shifts and takes him deep again. All the way this time, feeling the tip of him nudge against the back of his throat, which works around him in a tight, convulsive swallow.

His eyes are dark and hazy and locked on Claude's face, enjoying this torment as much as the other man. Memorizing every reaction. What makes Claude moan, makes his hips stutter under the press of Sylvain's weight, makes his fingers curl and struggle not to reach for him. He catalogs them all, committing them to memory. His knack for observing details has always come in useful, but nowhere is it more lethal than here. ]

[ It's probably for the best Sylvain chooses to not respond to that with words since it might inspire Claude to keep going himself, and that'd mean on missing out on Sylvain taking him into his mouth even deeper after that slow pull back. It's a good thing the other man has him pinned in place since the sight of it and the look flashed his way nearly undoes him then and there. ]

Fuck, you're so good at this.

[ File under things which don't really need to be said, but it feels imperative to give some kind of verbal compliment regarding it. Or, well: one formed as an actual thought and not all the other noises Sylvain's worked and is still working out of him. Those can just fill in the remaining blanks. So can the hand he finally lifts to tangle in Sylvain's hair for a good pull, only vaguely attempting to mind his manners and make it not too hard without more specifics on the level of enjoyment there. Here's a small gamble to find out considering Sylvain had certainly enjoyed what lighter grip he'd offered earlier, one Claude offers now in return for the spoiling being unleashed on him with all that considerable talent.

All of it dragging him closer to the familiar edge of unraveling, so his next tug on the other's hair is slightly less feedback and more for attention. Sylvain's attention in a different way, specifically. ]

If you keep this up much longer, you're going to get your wish.

[ But that'd been the whole point of Sylvain's request, after all, so it's less a warning and more a promise. ]

[ There's a warm rush of pleasure at the praise, eyes warming slightly as they watch his effect on the other man. Which is praise enough in itself, if he's honest, but it's still nice to hear the words.

He's intent on continuing, enjoying pushing Claude. And then those fingers finally reach and tangle and grip and he can't help himself. His eyes slide closed and a moan rumbles in his chest, vibrating around the length in his mouth in a way he's sure Claude can feel. Suspicion likely confirmed on Claude's behalf, since Sylvain really doesn't seem to mind that at all. In fact, it has his rhythm stuttering, pushing to take Claude a little deeper, throat working around the head of his cock before he can pull back enough to ease up in response to that second tug.

His gaze flits upwards again to Claude's face before he pulls back just enough to release him. His cheeks are flushed, eyes dark and lips reddened and wet as he smirks faintly. ] Is that you trying to say you want me to stop?

[ That vibration that leaves Sylvain and surrounds him sends a spark through him like nothing else yet, and Claude regrets - for a second - getting his attention when it would've been far easier to offer another tug of red hair as a reward above anything else.

Whatever regret he'd had for an instant fades immediately when the other sits up. Sylvain is a sight. A beautiful one, though the thought fades from his mind nearly as soon as it crosses through it as something he might recall later. Something to summon up later, more like, in a sight he won't forget any time soon and now has a vested interest in seeing again. Causing again. If he wasn't more preoccupied by something else, Claude might be able to properly appreciate that.

However. ]

If you stop right now, I might actually cry. [ He'd attempt to summon some quasi-believable tears just for the effect and maybe to also make Sylvain laugh, but see also: preoccupation. It's a handy block against thinking about anything else. ] But if you're saying you want to stop...

[ He'll just let that trail off since there's an obvious enough conclusion to that. Easier still to goad Sylvain by lifting his free hand like he's about to take matters into his own hands (literally) and finish himself off. ]

Oh, that is the absolute last thing I want, trust me.

[ Sardonic smirk lingering, he playfully smacks Claude's hand out of the way before he can so much as touch himself. ]

If I'm not allowed to touch, neither are you. Hands off.

[ But there's also no hesitation after that as he returns to where he'd been, sucking Claude just as deeply as he'd been before the interruption in one long, smooth slide of motion. Swallowing him all the way down and wrapping him entirely in sucking wet heat, a hum of satisfaction coming with it, since Claude had reacted to that faint vibration so well last time.

He's not opposed to making Claude cry right now, but for far different reasons. He'd settle for begging too, however. ]

[ His hand being smacked away just gets a laugh since, well - it'd been part of the reaction he was hoping for. And it's maybe also because having his own instruction turned around him might be just as effective as that smirk, but Sylvain will have to figure that one out for himself. Not that he likely hasn't already.

Either way, Claude's weak attempt at needling Sylvain into doing what he wants works in his favor. As soon as his mouth closes around his cock there's yet another mostly choked curse from Claude, only for Sylvain to earn a properly enunciated one immediately following thanks to the hum. If there was a chance he was supposed to finally stop talking with that - it was successful.

Much as he'd be content to continue enjoying all of this for even longer, he'd meant it about Sylvain's many talents since those combined with his own double edged sword of anticipation are his undoing. With one last pull of red hair in both appreciation and a warning Claude comes with a loud moan before he has to lay back again. ]

Did I already mention how good you are at that? [ He did - and he remembers it though really, that hadn't felt like enough so more praise feels justified while he's trying to catch his breath. ] Give me a minute and I'll make up your waiting patiently to you.

[ There's a faint flush on Sylvain's cheeks as he pulls back, having swallowed every drop - and then licked Claude clean on his way up for good measure - but he's pretty sure it can be blamed on exertion. Or arousal. Both? Certainly not from the quiet rush of pleasure at Claude's words again.

Smirking faintly, he pushes himself up on his elbows to peer up the line of Claude's body a moment before moving to slide up and stretch out alongside him. He reaches out, sliding fingers against Claude's own flushed cheeks, eyes dark and fond. And still smug. So very smug. ]

There's no rush. We have all night, remember?

Careful, you're just going to make me want to test your infinite patience.

[ As though he wasn't doing that already in multiple ways, but now he means a very specific variety of it. That's paired with a smirk for good measure since Claude knows that wasn't Sylvain's intent - well, beyond the things they'd both enjoy, that is.

Easy to roll onto his side then, annoying rustle as he drags (an exaggerated) fifty pounds of dress fabric rustling with him in the process to first study that smug - and well-earned - look before leaning in for a kiss. It'd be easy, far too easy, to be swept up in it if he didn't have another mission in mind that has him ending it before too long to trace the pad of his thumb along the edge of Sylvain's bottom lip. ]

I think I was also promised getting out of this dress, which would really make my plans for you much easier.

[ Sylvain just chuckles into that kiss, leaning into the touch with an impish grin. He's half-tempted just to drag this out to exasperate Claude, but it's getting to the point that Sylvain really wants the thing gone, too. ]

I suppose you have a point.

[ He lets his hands skim up along Claude's sides, the curve emphasized by the corset portion of the dress. Letting his fingers slide inwards, he starts deftly undoing the small clasps down the front, even as he leans in to kiss him again, deeper this time. It's both playful and distracting until a moment later, he has the top undone and is sliding it out of the way from beneath him. It left Claude in just the shirt and the skirt - both of which were far easier to strip off - and the boots. Which he hadn't decided yet if he wanted to get rid of at all. ]

Better?

[ Sylvain gets a scoff for that, one that says I clearly do and might've been the preface to something else, but those hands are distracting. More so is the fact that there's still a corset impeding being able to feel them fully, and while he hadn't entirely minded its restraints at different points it's still overstayed its welcome in his mind.

Easier still to help with shimmying out of it when their kiss breaks and Claude pulls his hands away from where they'd tangled in Sylvain's hair again to sit up with a dramatic sigh. ]

You have no idea.

[ As if he's really been suffering here. The reaction's meant more for Sylvain's entertainment as he takes a second to stretch. And speaking of entertainment - a second later he swings one leg over Sylvain's hips to press a knee on either side of the other's waist to keep him right there. Nothing like a semi-captive audience as Claude reaches for the buttons of his own shirt to undo them one by one while letting Sylvain enjoy being dressed for a while longer. Claude will get to that - in time - but for now Sylvain gets a front row view to the removal of that shirt and skirt. ]

This isn't a bad sight either, for the record. [ Is he smirking? He's definitely smirking. ] One I could certainly get used to, and that's while you still have your clothes on. Or, well, mostly on. I imagine it's even better without them.

I can assure you, it is.

[ Since Claude is now straddling his hips and basically keeping him pinned to the mattress now, Sylvain just settles comfortable on his back, stretching his arms up above his head to use as an impromptu pillow, and grins up at the sight of Claude stripping above him. If he’s going to give him a show, Sylvain is definitely here to enjoy watching it. Not to mention Claude is currently perched atop the evidence of how much he’s enjoying it, not that he’s drawing attention to that just now. ]

Although if you’re not used to the sight of me with my clothes still on by now, I think I need to be a little worried about your eyesight.

I meant you on your back as the sight, smartass.

[ Claude's grinning in return as he drops his hands away from his mostly undone shirt, deciding it can wait for a minute in favor of getting rid of the skirt instead. Something he probably should have done before, but it's easy enough to slide off with maybe a few too many convenient brushes against Sylvain's arousal as an all too convenient bonus. ]

I've already seen you with clothes on plenty over the last however long. [ Months. A lot of them. ] Now's the time to find out if reality matches, I suppose.

[ Off goes Claude's shirt as it's tossed haphazardly to the end of the bed where the skirt already rests. The boots can wait, he decides, in favor of reaching for Sylvain's shirt he'd let get the better of him before.

But not now - now Claude leans down as though he's going in for another kiss but instead swerves at the last second to ghost his lips along a chiseled jaw before dragging his teeth down along sensitive skin. He lets his hands slide beneath the fabric, that stubborn button finally giving way to let the shirt slip free as he worries a none too easily hidden mark into Sylvain's neck. ]

I mean, if you were so curious, you could have just asked.

[ He's still smirking as he watches appreciatively as Claude sheds the skirt and then the ruffled shirt after it. He doesn't miss the fact that Claude's also chosen to leave the boots for the moment, and that just has his grin widening. His hands slide up, over bared hips now as he drinks in the toned lines of Claude's body, fingers following where his eyes graze.

He might have teased him more, but Claude is bending close, hands working that final button free and shoving fabric out of his way as he leans in for... not a kiss, Sylvain realizes at the last moment. He tips his head back as lips tease back his jaw and then teeth scrape their way down his throat, sending shivers of pleasure along his nerves. His breath hitches and then melts into a low moan, fingers convulsing momentarily against Claude's side as he holds him close. He knows there's going to be a mark there in the morning and at the moment? He doesn't even care.

Part of that rush might even be over the fact that Claude's leaving a visible claim on his flesh in the first place. ]

Trust me. [ His voice is more hoarse than he anticipated, raw as he rocks his hips up teasingly against where Claude is still perched atop him. ] I would have accommodated you in just about anything.

[ That is a good noise. A very good one, Claude thinks, as having his lips and teeth attached to Sylvain's throat means he gets to feel that moan's reverberations in time with the steady hands on him fluttering in time with it. It feels like a trophy for winning something, or like a stubborn lock yielding to the turn of a key even if there's still more to go before it's fully undone. At the rock of hips upward Claude tightens his knees around the other's waist to keep him still. More of a promise than anything else, but right now Sylvain's neck is more preoccupying than anything else.

Then again - ]

Is that so.

[ Claude doesn't phrase it as a question. It's a statement to match the surety of what Sylvain's said, and he considers this while sliding the sleeves off the other's shoulders and down his arms to expose more skin before he frees the garment and tosses it aside with the rest of their clothes. After a light bite to the other's nearest collarbone as he moves down, trailing a kiss here and there before leaving another mark on his chest. Visible enough to be seen when getting dressed but nowhere else unlike the first one, and with the bonus of Claude turning those words over and over in his head. ]

Consider this, then. [ He'd meant to continue his descent but instead lets a hand finish that path to take Sylvain's cock in hand with another slow upwards stroke, lightly twisting his hand around his length as he goes to make the contact last since he has more in mind than teasing alone. ] I still want you on your hands and knees to fuck you, preferably sooner than later, because it's something I've imagined.

Your choice of what happens next, but since we're sharing, [ since Claude is sharing, anyway, as he pauses to let his thumb circle around the head of Sylvain's cock to tease the slit momentarily, ] I'd rather make sure you feel it tomorrow. And the same goes for me, in case you were wondering.

Hnng, fuck.

[ Fingers reach up to tangle in dark hair and Sylvain gives a sharp tug, yanking Claude down for another kiss, teeth making it a sharper one than before as he nips at the man's lips. His cheeks are flushed and eyes dark, pupils blown wide with arousal as catches Claude's gaze. His breathing is ragged, his cock jolting at the tormenting touch and the stimulation sent along his nerves, combined with mental image Claude's words paint. ]

Are you going to tell me what else you've imagined while you fuck me?

[ Either way, his answer is most definitely 'fuck yes'. ]

[ Another satisfying reaction, and there's maybe (definitely) a smug grin which would've lasted for far longer if it wasn't for that tug. It gets an equally sharp inhale from him before whatever noise he'd started to make is swallowed up into the kiss he eagerly returns. Sylvain earns another stroke to his cock, this one with more intent than teasing, and followed by another while he contemplates something. Not with his whole focus since he steals another kiss. ]

I'd threaten to tell you all of it now, but I don't think that's the definition of 'being here for a while' that you had in mind. [ Another grin with teeth against Sylvain's lips. ] I'm not gonna say no to a chance to run my mouth if you're asking for it to happen. You'll have to let me up to get some oil first, but only if you promise to put your hands in my hair again later.

[ Because Claude's certainly not complaining about that grip, not even as he shifts to pull back a bit. It isn't to leave despite saying so, but more to take in the entirely too alluring sight beneath him. ]

Gods, you're entirely too fucking handsome.

I'd apologize, but I'm bad at those and I wouldn't mean it anyway.

[ He shoots Claude a cheeky grin at that, but reluctantly releases his grip when Claude pulls back. He groans, not wanting to let Claude move away at all, but oil's going to very much be a necessity here. There was feeling it tomorrow and then there was that. ]

I think that's a promise I can keep. When, y'know, you don't have me on my hands and knees. Little difficult to do both. [ He lets his hands slide down over Claude's torso instead, now that there's bared skin for him to explore and no more clothing in the way. ]

There's oil in the nightstand drawer, though.

[ So he came prepared. So what? He could be hopeful and optimistic sometimes, okay. ]

[ Sylvain gets nothing but a fond roll of the eyes to apologies or lack thereof. Claude's more occupied with sitting up, because that also means he can run his hands down Sylvain's shoulders, chest, stomach - anywhere within reach. Slowly, and with blatant admiration (and appreciation) behind it since he'd missed the chance to do so before.

Once his hands reach hips he's starting to lean back to grab his skirt in what might seem like an odd choice for what's next, though it's not an action he completes when Sylvain speaks. Instead he stops to look at the other for a second, not in judgment or anywhere close to it but sheer amusement, plain and simple. And for good reason. ]

Huh. I suppose this is where I mention the dress has a couple of secret pockets and I might've stashed a vial away in one of them.

[ Since, as it turns out, they were both planning ahead. The nightstand will be considerably easier to get to than digging through a bunch of fabric so with a grin he leans over to tug the drawer open. One second of rifling around to locate it, and then he sets the oil down to wait for a moment. ]

Time to also get you out the rest of the way out of these while I'm at it.

[ Hands back to Sylvain's waist so he can tug lightly at the waistband of the other's pants just once before getting a better grasp to slide them down. Admiration of what's revealed is about to continue, considering Sylvain was right about looking even better without clothes, but then Claude's gaze falls on ink he wasn't expecting. Operation pants removal pauses when he reaches forward to run a couple fingertips over the design curiously. ]

Oh, good. Then we can be extra prepared. [ Looks like he didn’t have to worry about Claude judging him for making assumptions after all. Not when he’d apparently made the same ones. Or hoped, at least.

Claude has to lean up over him to reach the nightstand, and he might cheat a little to lean up and kiss and nip at the skin displayed over him, leaving a reddened mark along Claude’s ribs before he manages to settle back once more. He just grins cheekily as the other man starts to tug down his pants, helpfully lifting his hips for him. But he pauses when Claude does, a little confused, until he glances down to see what had caught his attention. The sun tattoo on the inside of his hip. ]

Ahh, that. Hazards of our first weekend in Nocwich.

We all left with souvenirs that weekend, I take it.

[ Better tattoos than what followed after he thinks as he finishes tracing over the ink. He's still curious about it and the meaning behind it, but, well. Realistically speaking Claude's not willing to share about his own beyond the crafted cover story he's made for it, so who's to say whatever Sylvain says if he asks is his to know?

Besides. The tattoo's hardly the important part here - and it's not what he should be focusing on, so back to tugging off the pants to discard them. More skin to run his hands over as he glides them back up Sylvain's legs. As much as he'd like to spend more time on those thighs in particular, that'll have to wait for another day. There is, surprisingly, a limit to how long he wants to make Sylvain wait, so Claude parts the other's legs to kneel between them. One more reach and the oil's back in his hands. ]

When I said earlier you on your back was a nice sight, I lied. Slightly. [ The smirk's back as Claude tips some of the oil into one hand before warming it between his palms for a second. That limit on too much teasing, after all. ] Only because this view's even better.

[ The statement has his gaze dropping to Claude's forearm, where his own tattoo rests. His lips quirk faintly as he reaches out to trace it. ] I guess we did.

[ He wants to ask about it, but he doesn't. Doesn't want to risk sending the mood somewhere they can't come back from. So he focuses on Claude's face once more instead, enjoying the touches, the brush of familiar calloused fingertips along his skin. When he parts his legs, Sylvain slides one upwards, bending his knee and propping it up against Claude's side. He's going to need to move here in a minute anyway, so he's not worried about getting in the way. Besides, he can hook his foot around behind Claude this way, since he's too far away to really reach for him otherwise.

Still, he's chuckling at the man's words as he watches him spill the oil into his palm,licking his lips in anticipation, gaze dark and impatient. ]

I did tell you that. It's not my fault you didn't believe me. [ Sylvain is all too aware what he looks like. Had long since honed it into a weapon in its own way. One he's wielded just as often and as long as his spear. Longer, maybe. Which should really prompt a terrible comment on his partner, but he'll let that pass for now. ] I'd say you're about to get a better one, but as nice as my... assets are, I happen to think this is usually a better angle. Not that I mind either way.

Who says I didn't believe you?

[ Look - it's not his best comeback, but Claude's trying very hard to fight a losing battle of not being distracted by that gaze, the leg now propped up against him, everything. Still, the game they're still playing with each other calls for him looking thoughtful, eyes roaming over Sylvain from head to toe(ish) like he really needs a second appraisal to determine something he already knows: Sylvain looks good like this, and they're both aware the other respectively knows it. This is really just a poor excuse for one last full length appreciation before other things take precedence. ]

You do make a good case, I suppose. But - I think I'll save that longer view for another time. Like next time and maybe even on another night since you've already threatened me with a second date.

[ Gotta stick with the plan, after all, which includes leaving any teasing to words alone and sliding an oiled finger into Sylvain carefully to begin on working him open. And, with a kiss pressed to the inside of that knee leaning against him when Claude pulls that leg closer because it's too difficult to resist, ] something tells me the short view will still be more than worth it.

I'm pretty sure you don't believe anything anyone tells you without verifying it first yourself.

[ The words are offered in all teasing, even if he knows that doesn't make them untrue either. But he can also take advantage of the fact that this gives him a chance to keep admiring Claude as well, gaze sweeping over exposed flesh, flitting over a few of the visible scars he can see and wondering at them. But really just wishing he'd come back into reach so he could go back to touching and tasting his way along the length of his body. ]

Does that really count as a threat, though?

[ He might have teased more, in fact, but Claude proves to be very distracting as he starts to open him up and Sylvain lets his head fall back to the mattress again with a groan, making himself relax. But he does open one eye enough to peer up at him with a faint smirk. ] You don't have to be that careful, though. I'm not fragile.

Well, you know what they say about making assumptions.

[ To everything said since Claude feels like it stands for all of them, and for good measure where his lips are still pressed against Sylvain's skin he flashes a smirk before setting that leg back down. Mostly, since he also has his free hand braced against the other's thigh. It's not enough contact when it comes to what he wants or his patience being further eroded by that groan, but there's a way around that.

Fragile's the last word he would've associated with Sylvain no matter what's at stake or which assumptions he's joking about. The request is clear enough so he slides in another finger, this time pausing only for a couple seconds before moving them both deeper into and out of Sylvain at a speed not quite meant to be satisfying. Not just yet. It's a few steps above careful, both to comply with the unvoiced part of that request and to seek out what it is Sylvain likes in more precise terms. Call it his own curiosity - or something else from his imagination, or something more to add to it later. ]

Better?

Mmmm, it's a start.

[ His eyes are closed again, if only so he can focus on the sensation. Lips quirk faintly, that fond smirk lingering, as he keeps himself relaxed, giving another low groan as Claude starts to stretch him deeper, opening him up. There's no resistance in him and other than the occasional clench or shiver of muscles around the press of those digits, he does seem to be relishing the touch. His leg shifts, sliding against Claude's side almost absently and there might the faintest hint of an aborted rock of his hips, chasing the brush of fingers within him at one point. ]

A start?

[ Claude says this with exaggerated mock offense if Sylvain's wounded him deeply. As if this wasn't meant to be a prelude all along, and as though there's not plenty of other quieter compliments being given in return to different movements tried that he's cataloging away. There are, and his ego is just fine, but that's not as fun as being difficult.

He did notice that lifting of hips, subtle as it was and easily missed if he hadn't been watching and waiting for just that. And, with paying close enough attention, it's easy to find that same angle again that caused it for a firmer press in hopes of giving Sylvain more to rock against or to bring it out again. ]

Hm. I could always move slower if that's what you're angling for.

[ He intends to say something snarky there, but the press of those fingers deeper and in such a way that it sends sensation searing along his momentarily distracts him. Which is impressive, actually - he's not so easy to distract. Hips arch in truth then, muscles clenching tightly around Claude's fingers as he exhales in a quiet hiss, fingers curling in the sheets, before the sound melts into a hint of a moan. ]

Fuck. If you slow down, Claude, you're going to have to postpone your fantasy, because I will fucking flip us over and ride you myself.

[ Sylvain's right: this is a better sight as he arches and the blankets fall prey to his grasp. For a split second Claude almost regrets his choice to flip them over at some point, even as resolved to it as he is. Best to make sure he can appreciate it now as he slips his fingers back for a second only to drive them back to the same spot again with any luck and then to repeat it.

Not slowly either despite what he'd said, because while watching Sylvain was more than enough on its own that request - more like an order - is effective as it sends a ripple through him that goes straight to his cock. If he wasn't hard already, he certainly is now. ]

I'm failing to see where I'm supposed to protest that happening.

[ There's more than a little breathlessness underneath that smug response. Claude still doesn't slow, even if he really wouldn't protest that though it's destined to be something else on the list of next times. In the here and now multitasking helps; he lets go of Sylvain's thigh where his fingers had been digging into it unnoticed by him to retrieve the oil. A bit more needed, this time to prepare himself by slicking his own length while ready to withdraw his other hand, since - ]

Roll over when you're as ready as you sound.

Fuck, I was ready eight months ago.

[ Part of it's said teasingly, because while he might have been ready for part of this eight months ago... it's becoming something much more than he would have been ready for back then. More than he even imagined he could be ready for. Even if that's dangerous territory to let his mind wander, ever.

But there's no hesitation in him as he shifts back, reluctant as he is to lose the thrust of Claude's fingers within him, especially when he'd honed in so quickly on what Sylvain liked and where he was sensitive. The roll over to his hands and knees is surprisingly graceful, legs parting to either side of Claude's thighs. And the glance he shoots over his shoulder at the other man is both cheeky and filled with hungry impatience. ]

Better? Or do you need me to start begging next?

[ Eight months being referenced again right now gets a laugh from him. There's something to that, maybe, where Claude might be able to find the thread of if he considered it and pulled the matching one from his own thoughts running unseen through all of them. If he could think about anything besides watching Sylvain roll over, or that look back over one shoulder and towards him that is absolutely going to etch itself in his mind, or memorizing more skin as he runs a hand down the other's spine lightly. ]

I think I'll also save making you beg for another time since you're promising me both.

[ Definitely not because of his own impatience that mirrors Sylvain's in every possible way, which means that as much as he'd like to draw this out a little bit longer in the name of anticipation: instead he grips the other's hips. Easy to take a second to line himself up before thrusting into him carefully, moving slowly this time to ensure Sylvain feels everything as he sinks in.

A moan leaves him that might've been a word once, some swear word that'll forever remain a mystery now as he also pulls Sylvain's hips towards him to push into him the rest of the way. And then to wait for a second to give him a second to adjust, and though Claude had been joking about that promise earlier, there was one he'd actually (sort of) made regarding sharing some other things. Easy to lean down then as close as he can get to the other's ear to murmur into it. ]

When you do beg, it'll be because I tied you up first.

[ Claude can no doubt feel the visceral reaction to those words, one that sweeps through him with a force that leaves him breathless, and then muttering a choked-sounding curse a moment later. ]

Fuck, why do I get the feeling you'll be making me beg way before then, anyway? Although if that was meant to be a threat, you failed horribly. [ His fingers are curled in the sheets beneath him, head lowered slightly as Claude presses in and it's tight, but he relishes the stretch of it, the edge of just enough strain to have him rocking back against him. Taking him deeper. It has the line of his spine arching with the movement, muscles trembling just under the surface with the effort of holding himself still and not chasing more of that friction. Especially when Claude's breathless moan washes over him, half-curse, and feels the bite of his nails at his hips. Smirking - though the expression's lost with his head tipped as it is - he purposefully tightens up, knowing it'll clench snugly around the press of Claude's cock into him.

Two can tease like this, after all. ]

More of a promise than a threat, really.

[ Everything about Sylvain taking him in is threatening to derail his mind. From that rock back, to the curse, to the arching back, and that's before Sylvain tightening around him successfully gets another almost (but not really) choked back noise from him.

That's well-played, but Claude's not ready to stop there - not when one little description went over so well and he has more left. For a brief moment he slides his hands up Sylvain's sides slowly to appreciate the skin beneath them, but then it's right back to holding the other's hips to to hold him in place so neither of them move, impatience or not. Perfect timing then to offer one entirely too shallow thrust that's more of the start of one and which won't offer Sylvain much of anything and intentionally so. Just a reminder of what could be happening as he leans down to brush his lips against the nearest shoulder blade. ]

I wouldn't complain if you wanted to start now, but maybe you're too comfortable. In that case, think of what you're missing out on until next time when I tie your wrists back before fucking you like this.

[ One more barely there press into him for good measure. ]

[ There's another shiver that sweeps down his spine as Claude leans over him, brushing his lips against heated skin, a scattering of freckles over his shoulders and down his back.

Those murmured words might as well be pure torture, especially when Claude keeps his thrusts deliberately shallow. He groans in frustration, pressing back anyway, trying to take him deeper despite the man's grip on his hips. ]

Claude, I swear to the Goddess. You can tie me up however you want, just fucking move already.

[ His voice is strained and breathless, fingers still curled in the sheets, but his own impatience is swiftly unraveling the longer Claude teases and at this rate, he's seriously considering flipping them over and taking what he wants. Or at least force Claude to make good on his threats. Promises? Whatever. ]

[ Those breathless words might as well be music to his ears even if he wasn't truly aiming for them this time around, and it's enough to get a slight laugh from him. Of enjoyment only and nothing more or less, since that's also rather nice and far better than continuing to run his mouth.

Sylvain has been very, very patient. It's with that in mind he straightens back up for the moment to make good on other unsaid promises with hands shifting to the other's lower back for time being. Easy to stop stalling and to pull out enough to thrust back into him quickly followed by the same. No teasing this time as he continues on with another half-formed curse falling from his lips.

It's not yet the pace he'd promised for feeling it tomorrow. It's getting there, but he's busy looking for the same angle again that'd sent Sylvain arching against the bed even if this time - for now - he doesn't get the pleasure of seeing it written across the other's face.

But. Sound is certainly gratifying, too, and with that in mind Claude aims for one slower but far deeper and firmer thrust than the rest. ]

[ And Claude does get the sounds he wants - a moan that slides into a curse and then back again when he finally starts to move, Sylvain's body shuddering at the friction beneath him. He arches into that touch just from the sheer enjoyment of Claude finally doing something, his own cock aching but ignored for the moment - and that's okay, because he's wholly focused on the sensations he's getting from Claude's movements, making everything else fade into the background.

And then he shifts the angle, giving a deeper, firmer thrust and those moans take on a different pitch as he does indeed find that spot he'd brushed with his fingers earlier. Another curse, more vehement this time, and Sylvain drops forward to his elbows instead, if only so he can rest his forehead against the mattress as he presses back, chasing more, encouraging Claude to take what he wanted. ]

Fuck...

[ When Sylvain drops to his elbows he instinctively grabs the other's shoulder to keep him close even if Sylvain's doing anything but moving away. That request for more has him tipping his head back for a moment before thrusting into Sylvain again. ]

Sylvain.

[ It's more of a gasp than anything else, but it's a whole thought encapsulated in the other's name. The simplest truth to what's unvoiced is that what he wants is what'll make Sylvain swear again, to chase it down in full pursuit.

There's more to it than that - it isn't actually that simple given that in most any other situation he'd care considerably less. Eight months probably factors in there somehow; if it'd been less time, if it really had been after Nocwich, then maybe it'd be simple to write off with nothing else attached.

But that's the kind of thing Claude will have to study for longer at some point to figure it out, if he ever does either. Right now nothing crosses his mind except answering that request by keeping the same angle that's been found again with a faster pace, something more insistent with attention meant solely for Sylvain's enjoyment. ]

[ Hands are fisted in the sheets now as he gasps in soft ragged pants punched out of him with each deep thrust of Claude's hips, purposefully aimed now with the full intent of seeing Sylvain unravel beneath him. Which he is far too adept at, apparently - something Sylvain'll be both thrilled and annoyed at later when he can think again. Moans slip free between gasps of breath as he shifts enough to redistribute his weight better, rocking back to meet Claude's thrusts, body tight and shuddering around him as the friction sends pleasure coursing through him in endless waves.

The sound of his name uttered in that tone, though. It's not that he hasn't heard his name spoken in the heat of passion, but not by Claude and never quite like that. It holds more than he anticipated, although there's no way to pick that apart right now. Not when he's as deeply caught up in this now as Claude is himself. He's made it impossible to focus on anything except the movement and pleasure building between them, and honestly, Sylvain's okay to lose himself in that.

Even if that's a rare experience in itself. He's even a little surprised to find he trusts Claude enough to completely relinquish his control in this. He'd known it would be amazing if they ever got this far, but he might have still underestimated it. It's all he can do to remember how to use his own current position to his advantage to torment Claude just as much - the way he rocks back to meet his thrusts or when he tightens around him in a shuddering clench. The breathless moans that break free, often interrupted by curses and, as they progress further, harder, faster, Claude's name and please mixed in among them. ]

[ Each moan of Sylvain's is met with one of his own, each please with another thrust to bring more of all of it. His name on Sylvain's lips is addictive, one more reason on top of already so many to keep driving it out of him - to make sure he sets every nerve ending within them both on fire with each roll of his hips and every time Sylvain shivers beneath him punctuated by every exhale from them both that doesn't quite make it into anything discernible.

There's so much Claude wants to memorize to hoard as memories for later even as his mind spins and leaves no space for anything but the present. No space for anything but Sylvain and what he's been granted in what they've both surrendered to get here. But - he hasn't forgotten a promise made in the form of something between a request and an order, and it's one Claude intends to keep. He lets go of Sylvain's lower back to lean forward and brace himself on the mattress with one hand, taking a second to make sure he still hits the right angle and rhythm that's been undoing the other little by little without interrupting it.

It also means leaning his weight slightly on Sylvain with the added contact only serving to add to everything for Claude as he leans down to brush his lips against where he can reach of the other man's back. Only a small delay before he slides his other hand around from his grasp on his shoulder and down to wrap his other hand around Sylvain's neglected cock, because - ]

Come for me.

[ His own voice is ragged, like maybe he has to remember how to speak after neither of them have said anything more than what they've managed, but there's time for talking later. The strokes he offers have no teasing behind them this time around, deliberate and sure as they are while trying to time them with his thrusts to hopefully bring Sylvain closer to if not up and over the edge. ]

[ He'd already been unraveling before then, although he'd been holding back by sheer force of will. Not ready to come yet, not until Claude was close, too. Not wanting this to end, even if he was fairly certain they were still far from done with tonight.

But he knows it's inevitable, even before Claude shifts behind him, stretching out along his back as he braces a hand near Sylvain's own. It gets a keening whine from him, because Claude still brushes repeatedly over sensitive nerves with each thrust, but the new angle still manages to take him deeper. And yeah, he's definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow, but that's the most delicious acknowledgement he could possibly make right now and he craves that with a fierceness that overwhelms his own need to come.

Of course, then he feels Claude's lips trailing up the back of one shoulder as he maintains that rough, devastating rhythm. He shifts a little more to make room for him, keep the angle just right between them. And one hand shifts sideways slightly to grasp overtop the one bracing Claude's own weight atop the mattress, because it's the only piece of Claude in range for him to grasp onto, to ground himself with. Wanting, needing to touch him, even if it's a faint a cling as this.

And then fingers wrap around his cock, stroking him with a firm, sure stroke and it has his vision whiting out at the added stimulation, overloading his senses and sending him spiraling. The words uttered in his ear in that breathy, husky rasp are the final nail in the coffin, as it were. He's caught between all of it, the sharp thrusts of Claude's cock, relentless in its torment, clever fingers drawing even more pleasure out of him after having avoided his cock all this time - and that familiar voice in his ear, sounding just as wrecked as he feels.

He doesn't know which to chase, can't, his hips stuttering as he cries out, sharp and broken for a moment before his body spills over the edge without even his permission. Not that he needed it, apparently, with Claude's command echoing in his ears. He spills over those fingers, body clenching tight in reaction, the shudder of orgasm shivering through every inch of his body, pleasure leaving him blinded and dizzy with the intensity of it for a moment. ]

[ When Sylvain's hand brushes his Claude reaches to link their fingers on instinct to wind them both back into the sheets, one more connection between them despite all the others ongoing. It's not - if he was able to think about it - the kind of thing he would normally do. The sort of thing that's intimate, especially given that it's such a small gesture to start with that could slip unseen between grander ones. That there's no hesitation means something beyond trying to give Sylvain what he wants.

Something that'll stay an unknown because all he focuses on is the sounds the other man is making, to keep his hand moving over his cock up and down his length to match thrusting into him again and again even as those hips stutter in indecision. Sylvain's name slips from his lips again, a small plea for him to let go, that he'll catch him in the fall. That cry drags another moan from him even before the other's body tightens around him in a telltale sign as Sylvain comes over his hand.

Claude fucks him through it to make whatever aftershocks he can give last as long as he can manage, but feeling Sylvain come fully undone beneath him is enough for Claude to let go of his last bit of willpower he'd been holding onto as tightly as the hand over his. He'd held onto it to make sure Sylvain came first, an unspoken promise even if it was made only on his end, but the sounds and feeling around him is more than enough to push him to his own orgasm when Sylvain's pleasure only adds exponentially to his own.

It's not that much longer before he comes as well, spilling inside of him with a last few thrusts and a cry of his own. The intensity of it makes everything narrow to the two of them alone with everything else forgotten and falling away, and Claude has to drop his forehead down to press it between Sylvain's shoulders so he can catch his breath once he remembers to inhale. An exhaled curse - an entirely pleased one - goes with it that Claude feels really sums up everything for now.

There's probably a smart remark coming just as soon as he remembers what sentences are again. Or how to think. Maybe both. The same goes for moving since that'll also have to wait. ]

[ The aftershocks are only more drawn out when Claude doesn't stop moving and Sylvain relishes that, too, even when nerves are sparking, overloaded with stimulation, muscles trembling. It's a good thing he's already braced on his forearms, forehead resting against the mattress, because he would have likely faceplanted in the aftermath.

Even now, he gasps raggedly for air, sharp inhales yanked into his lungs in between the final few thrusts Claude makes before he can feel the other man coming as well. He groans out a curse of his own, weight braced so that when Claude slumps against his back, they don't both go tumbling. His body still shudders and clenches as the aftershocks continue to roll through him, no doubt setting off a chain reaction, since he knows Claude will be sensitive after his own orgasm. But he doesn't want to move yet, either, because this is perfect. ]

Yup. I am definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow, in all the best ways.

Told you.

[ There it is. Or there part of it is since that's far and away from what else could be said, but for once - Claude goes with the first thing that comes to mind. That's easier when they're both still sensitive and all those movements around him cause his breath to hitch with each one making it all the more difficult to catch.

Not that he minds in the least. Claude has to smother a grin against Sylvain's back next when he finally moves enough to press a proper kiss to the skin beneath him rather than settling for far smaller brushes here and there which he can admit - to himself - weren't nearly enough. With that in mind, one leads to another as he moves across freckles slowly, working his way up and across wherever he can reach, only stopping when it comes to the point where either Sylvain will have to sit up or he'll have to pull out to reach him which doesn't sound as appealing as staying like this for a while longer.

That doesn't mean he can't still tease. Just a little. ]

Hopefully you're still going to do the same to me. In a while, that is, since a wise man said there's no rush since we have the whole night. Or something like that.

Maybe when I can move again. Although moving sounds like the worst possible option right now.

[ There's a grin in his voice, but a moment later he manages to turn his head enough to peer back over his shoulder teasingly at Claude. ]

Not that I could anyway. Comfortable?

Now that you mention it, I could go for a nap.

[ Maybe it's a hint, maybe it's not, but Claude is going to take the chance to use Sylvain's shoulders as a pillow and shut his eyes now that the other can (kind of) see it happening. That's complete with leaning the rest of his weight on him just to add to the act.

Something he keeps up for all of two seconds before sitting back up. The plan - not that there was much of one - hadn't been to keep Sylvain in place, but faking sleep for thirty whole seconds or less was enough of a confirmation that even if neither of them want to move, lying down hardly counts for that. Easy enough then to sit up first to help Sylvain up to do just that before stretching out next to him. ]

It's not as comfortable as before, but I suppose this'll do for now.

Oof.

[ Sylvain drops his head back to the mattress, as if he needs the extra support beneath Claude's suddenly increased weight. Which isn't that much more at all, really, but he'll play along anyway.

But when Claude pulls out - something he doesn't bother to bite back a disappointed whine over - he rolls onto his side and reaches for him, dragging him back against his chest to let him use that as a pillow in replacement instead. ]

Are you saying I've worn you out already?

[ Claude's sort of attempting to stretch his back, mostly by doing so in place, and is about to prop an arm behind his head when suddenly: there's arms around him moving over. A flicker of surprise crosses his face though it's gone a split second later, since - well. It's unexpected, but it's not unpleasant at all. There's maybe a slight sort of smile to go with it though it's (probably) mostly lost to get comfortable against Sylvain's chest. ]

I'm not the one who said they couldn't move. [ If it'd been a slight smile before, now he's just grinning and there's no disguising it in his voice either, especially as he tilts his head back for a kiss to where Sylvain's neck meets his shoulder. ] Not to mention one of us requires a lot less sleep than the other if the last few months are anything to go by.

[ Yes, he's counting that in his favor. ]

That would be me. Since I actually sleep. Someone else has an awful lot of that napping to catch up on.

[ His smirk is audible in his voice as he chuckles and combs his fingers through Claude's dark hair, letting him do whatever he wanted. He doesn't mind teasing Claude about this. Even if Claude only gets half the joke, he's pretty sure. He doesn't think the other man has figured out yet that sometimes Sylvain "helps" him get to sleep.

What he doesn't know about, he can't yell at Sylvain for. ]

Sleep's overrated.

[ Or something like that, just another line tossed out as expected. Claude's less interested in defending his insomnia now that Sylvain's seen its extensiveness and including that Abraxas has become a place where he can actually catch naps now and then that are actually restful. Strange, since he didn't see that coming upon arriving and it'd taken a while to happen, but if it means more time to read or roam late at night while everyone's asleep: he's certainly not going to complain.

And since Sylvain isn't complaining about the lips on his neck, Claude's going to take that as permission to advance again. Here's one kiss a bit further up followed by another in short order before something occurs to him and he lifts one of his legs slightly just enough to be noticed since there's some all important boots there. ]

Besides, I didn't leave these on just to sleep in, fun as that might be all on its own.

[ Seriously, if he thought he could get away with it, Sylvain would be spelling him to sleep every eight hours. But Claude's way too observant for that, so he still uses is sparingly - and carefully - to instead keep getting away with it as long as possible. He's not sure how Claude would react, honestly. On one hand, he seemed to be doing better with the snatches of sleep Sylvain helped sneak in. And on the other, Sylvain was a little worried he'd be furious for putting him in a vulnerable potion like that or something. Even if it was in their shared room. He'd rather not risk it.

So he just hums noncommittally and picks his head up enough to watch the movement of Claude's boot-clad foot behind him, a grin curving across his lips. ]

And here I thought you were just worried about getting cold feet...

You know... you're right.

[ First he pauses, lips still sort of pressed against Sylvain's neck as he says this like a very worrisome epiphany is occurring to him. Which it has, in some ways, considering Claude's going to run with this opportunity. Next he shivers dramatically as if there's even a remote chill in the room (and that even if there was, as if it wouldn't be offset by being pressed up against one very warm Faerghan) before leaning back enough in said Faerghan's grasp to make sure his face can be seen.

What's on his mind is an awful line. He knows it - Sylvain is about to know it - and yet: Claude schools his features into a perfectly pleading look he'd perfected long ago. It's all capped off with putting on his best doe eyes he might've just learned from Hilda and her own set of tactics. ]

You'll keep me warm, won't you?

[ He knows Claude is winding up to something, that dramatic pause building up the silence he lets hang between them as he picks his head up

The culmination, combined with the look Claude shoots him, has him blinking down at him for a moment, even as his brain stutters and stumbles over that request.

The sound that escapes him a moment later is more snicker than giggle, but a moment later it's blossomed into full-fledged laughter as his head falls back to the pillow, the sound rumbling through the chest Claude is currently sprawled across. ]

Oh, that's it, I've clearly been the worst sort of influence on you. We're all doomed.

[ He rolls them over, however, pinning Claude to the bed beneath him, now sprawled across the other man's chest and in between his legs. Feeling the leather of those boots against his thighs. He smirks down at him, all impish humor and playful confidence. ]

Although I'm pretty sure I could manage that much, at least.

[ That reaction is more than worth it considering the whole point was in hopes of garnering it. Something small to toss out for laughs and here's the proof it worked as after a moment where Sylvain looks at him with deserved incredulity he laughs so hard he has to lie back. It's not the first time he's made Sylvain laugh, not by far, but somehow it's more satisfying now.

Or maybe that's all due to something else when they're rolled over and he has to try not to grin in the process. It'd ruin the whole effect. ]

Are you a bad influence, or did I just get you to do what I wanted? Hm. [ Hold that thought for a chance to put on airs like he's reflecting upon this at great length as he reaches up to brush red hair back from the other's face. ] Maybe I wanted you to put me on my back as part of my plans all along.

[ That's yet another line of a different variety, but the shift in position sure is helpful for wrapping his arms around Sylvain's shoulders with a smirk to pull him down for a kiss. ]

Ahh, yes, one of your infamous clever plans. [ Sylvain just grins down at him before letting himself be pulled down for another kiss. ] Well, considering how much this particular one benefits me, I suppose I’ll allow it. Just this once.

[ That’s absolutely a lie. Claude could probably talk him into just about anything, after all. But for now, he presses Claude back down against the mattress once more, pinning him there beneath him as he kisses him slow and deep. Some of the earlier haste and impatience has abated, but none of his hunger as he tastes and explores and claims the other man’s mouth for his own. ]

Edited 2023-04-06 04:01 (UTC)

[ There's a hint of a grin at Sylvain's words, over just this once being not much of a threat or not one he's going to take seriously, though any trace of it's gone by the time their lips meet. The weight over him is nice as the other settles, and being pinned there certainly isn't anything he's going to complain about.

The same goes for Sylvain deepening the kiss before he can that has Claude letting a pleased noise reverberate out into it. There's no rush to the rest of the night. He could certainly draw things out. Yielding to that exploration is so much better as is winding a hand into red hair to encourage Sylvain on.

It flits through his mind briefly that beyond being pursued - something the last few months was full enough of - there's something else to feeling wanted. But that's something that doesn't belong here; maybe it's still a game. Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about it at all.

Better to move one of his legs he'd absently draped over one of Sylvain's without noticing it until now to trail the leather of that boot slowly against skin moving upwards with the intent of winding it around the other's waist. ]

[ The move earns Claude a husky groan, the sound muffled into the kiss. The slide of smooth leather against his thigh is a different sensation than what's come before, a delicious contrast to the heat of flesh pressed against heated flesh.

He nips at Claude's lower lip, playful, and lets one hand slide up to tangle in dark hair as well, tipping his head back as he trails nipped, sucking kisses back along his jaw. ]

I think I've found a flaw in our otherwise brilliant plan.

[ It's a good thing Sylvain pulls back because the smirk that overtakes his face in response to that groan would've broken that kiss immediately. Before Claude can find something to say a hand in his own hair easing his head back is too difficult to resist, as is the hum of appreciation for those lips working their away across his jaw with skill.

And - right. He's supposed to say something here instead of just keeping his eyes partway shut to enjoy the feeling, as if the slightly too long pause isn't already giving him away. ]

And what might that be?

[ Is he listening for a response? Sort of. He might be more distracted with leaning his head back more to make sure Sylvain has enough space to keep moving. ]

[ Sylvain has plenty of room and he takes advantage of it, sucking redness into the skin beneath his lips before answering. ]

Despite having all this time tonight, there's no way we're going to fit in everything we want to do in a single night. Which means... [ Another light bite, to the curve of flesh where throat meets shoulder. ] You really are going to be stuck with me for a 'next time'. Which, I know, is such a hardship, but...

[ There's a second where, even if the pause still involves a mouth on his neck, that's just long enough for Claude to wonder if there is, somehow, actually a flaw. Maybe something he hadn't accounted for, something somehow overlooked, but then Sylvain answers and he opens his eyes to blink at the ceiling for a moment before resisting the urge to laugh as a shiver of enjoyment runs through him thanks to those teeth. ]

Oh no, however will I survive? [ Claude doesn't even bother to make that sound serious what with deliberately putting a grin in his voice and tugging lightly on Sylvain's hair to encourage him on. ] What rotten luck. Though I suppose it depends on whether you're promising me the next time or not.

Mmm, just like that, huh? I don't even need to wager or dare you into it. I'm flattered.

[ His answering grin is more than audible in his voice as he worries the skin under his teeth a little, leaving a mark that will definitely be visible for at least tomorrow. ]

I can probably be persuaded to make that promise. Those aren't something I give lightly, after all.

[ That just earns Sylvain a tsk like he's somehow been ruffled by such a statement. ]

Kinda think I should be the one flattered, since-

[ Hold that thought since it's interrupted by a decidedly none too subtle inhale when those teeth mark his neck, and there's no covering for it when his grip on Sylvain's hair tightens in the same instant. Which, well: there goes that train of thought as he has to scramble for another one.

What was Sylvain saying? Right - promises, or something. ]

Persuaded, huh. Wasn't that what me leaving the boots on was for?

[ He's going to take the fact that he just completely derailed Claude's entire train of thought as a very high compliment.

But he just grins, and then makes a muffled sound of his own when fingers tighten their grip on his hair and tug in a delightful way. ]

Those are pretty persuasive, you're right. Alright, then you have my promise. Whatever we don't have the time - or stamina - for tonight, we'll definitely save to carry over to this infamous 'next time'.

[ In another other situation, Claude would take a second to preen - obnoxiously - about Sylvain first saying it'll take effort to get a promise only to turn around and do it anyway in nearly the same breath. Sure, there's a good chance it's all just words, but the only reason he doesn't is there's more important things at hand. ]

Does that mean I should teasing you about time or stamina by devoting so much of either one to my neck right now?

[ Is he complaining? Not really - and it's too late to pretend like it given what came seconds before it. This was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. ]

Mmm. Maybe I'm just really possessive and want to leave a reminder of tonight.

[ The words come out light and teasing, but he's actually surprised to find they ring a little true. Which is really weird to contemplate, considering he's never been the possessive sort at all. ]

[ Meanwhile, he just rolls his eyes even if the effect is fully lost what with Sylvain not being able to see it. Maybe he can sense it anyway though considering Claude's hearing that statement as every bit as teasing as it's said. ]

In that case and to begin with as the first order of operations here, you should probably use more teeth.

[ Teasing Sylvain to end up with what he wants? Absolutely. And speaking of that. ]

And then secondly, while that's a very nice reminder all on its own I can think of an even better one you could offer me.

[ He bites back a laugh at the first suggestion, because that wasn't subtle at all, Claude. ]

Oh? And what's that?

[ Even if he's pretty sure he can guess. ]

Maybe I'd rather make you figure it out if you still need to.

[ On the plus side: at least that proclamation isn't anything Sylvain will find surprising since it's been the theme of... some months now. The months part isn't something he wants to dwell on since that requires more thought than he wants to put into it - and the same will probably also be true for later - so Claude redirects that right back into mild mischief. ]

Was I not forward enough already? Or, [ while tugging on Sylvain's hair again like he's somehow not getting enough attention here, ] maybe I just want to hear your suggestions, if I don't have to remind you something was said about bending me over something earlier in the night.

Hmm. That is true. And considering it was such an important part of our conversation tonight, I feel we'd be remiss to leave it out of the evening's fun.

[ He grins as he leaves one more nipping kiss against Claude's throat before pushing himself upright once more and glancing down at him. And then around them. ]

Although the bed's really not the right angle for that. Hmm. [ A glance around the room before he starts snickering in amusement. ] Well. There's the desk, but I dunno, is that gonna give you too many 'Teach' fantasies I'm gonna have to start worrying about?

Do you have Teach fantasies I should be worried about?

[ Volleying that one right back even if he's laughing too much to make it sound entirely serious. It's more rhetorical than anything considering there is no Teach here anywhere - not that Claude wants to tempt fate on that one like he might with anything else.

And not that he wants to be thinking about Teach right now either, so he props himself up on his elbows for his own survey of their options. There's not many given the consideration of the angle(s) involved, but they aren't entirely bereft of them. ]

Well. Aside from the desk if you can get over your fantasy fears, there's that if you want a view to go with it. [ With a point towards a dresser with a mirror that'll provide said view, and then with another point towards the set of double doors leading to the outside and a sizable smirk to go with it - ] Or there's the balcony railing if you feel like getting us kicked out of here, but that one might actually put an end to the night.

Let's not risk plummeting to our deaths in a sex mishap on our first date, yeah? That's a little much, even for me.

[ He's conveniently not going to say a word about any Teach-related fantasies. Because honestly, he's pretty sure if even a single student in any of their Houses claimed not to have at least one of those, he'd call every single one of them a liar.

But he does give the mirrored dresser a speculative look, because that could be fun... ] Hmm, well, as long as it's not likely to give you a complex...

[ It's said teasingly, but he does push back off the bed to his feet once more and then hold out a hand to Claude with a smirk. ]

I dunno, Sylvain. That might be just the sort of thing to make it even more memorable.

[ Well - minus the death part which Claude's assuming was hyperbole which is all the more reason to tease about it. And does he notice he put the qualifier in front of memorable in a slip to make it clear he was already considering it as much as he takes Sylvain's hand? Not really. ]

Wait, almost forgot something important. [ One brief lean back across the bed to retrieve the oil where he'd dropped it before they'd been otherwise occupied before holding it up with a quick waggle of it between a couple fingers. ] It'll be a little difficult to get started on your long held fantasy without it.

[ Meaning the desk, of course, and that's where Claude heads next - but not without taking his time on the way considering also much earlier in the night Sylvain wanted to enjoy such a view. Once at his destination he turns back around to face the other, leaning against it with his palms against its surface with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. ]

[ Sylvain's never wished for Ignatz's skill with a paintbrush more than when he watches Claude lean back against that desk in nothing but those boots and a smirk. At least he has a very good memory.

He follows, drawn like a plucked tether, dark, hungry eyes taking in the sight of him like a man starving. It completely derails whatever he'd thought of retorting back - impressive, really - in favor of hemming him in against the edge of the desk, hands pressed to either side of him as he leans in to capture Claude's lips again in a rough, demanding kiss. But he can't not touch, which ends up with one hand sliding up to wind its way into Claude's hair again, fingers tangling and then gripping, angling him just right so he can deepen the kiss.

Apparently his impatience wasn't all the way sated after all. ]

[ Something in how Sylvain eyes him for a second makes it very, very difficult to not feel immensely smug. As the other man approaches wordlessly Claude merely watches from beneath his lashes, smirk still present as strong arms find the desk next to him with the intent of keep him there and lasts right up until Sylvain's mouth finds his.

A pleased noise leaves him to sink straight into the intensity of that kiss as he meets it, and Claude's hands are the first to leave the desk with one hand coming to rest on a shoulder and the other on a bicep. A silly move since not one second later he's already contemplating shifting to pull him closer, but Sylvain beats him to it with that hand in his hair that generates a surprised inhale from him as the kiss deepens.

There is, just for an instant, the feeling of falling. Not in the physical sense as he's anchored in place, but something else. Something he doesn't want to put a name to like that'll keep it invisible and never to be seen again, something he feels anyway as his grasp on the other's shoulder tightens. Want is a powerful thing, and more so if one surrenders to it.

But Claude will always try to claw back control whenever there's the slightest opportunity for him to, and so even though it requires straining a bit against Sylvain's grasp in his hair - not that he's protesting that either when it pulls enough to send a small shiver of enjoyment through him - he leans back and catches Sylvain's bottom lip in his teeth with only enough pressure to catch his attention before releasing it. ]

Fuck me already.

[ Sylvain had felt the swoop in his own stomach during that approach - and again, when Claude makes that pleased little noise against his lips. It only urges him to deepen the kiss further, determined to lose himself and the reality of that in the heat of the moment instead. One leg slips between Claude's thighs, pinning him back against the edge of the desk while he relishes the way his grip tightens in response.

He feels that little shiver when Claude strains against the fingers in his hair - something he recognizes because he knows just how that feels. Enjoys how easy it comes to read Claude like this, when he's normally such a struggle. A mystery. He's not sure if that's because he's so much more accustomed to picking up on subtle nuances like this or if Claude is actually being more open and honest in his reactions here than he normally allows himself. Sylvain's not complaining either way.

That nip to his lip has them curving into a smirk as he grinds his thigh up against Claude's cock where it's caught between them now, nipping at the man's lips in return. ]

Mmm. Yes, that was the plan, wasn't it? Stop being so distracting and we'll get there.

[ Even if he's pretty sure that's an impossibility at this point.

But he does pull back, enough to slide his hands down Claude's torso to his hips, and then not-so-gently manhandle him into turning around to face the desk. His hands guide Claude's to the far edge, the piece of furniture just wide enough to make them both bend at the waist over the surface to reach and he nudges Claude's legs a little wider, into the stance he wants. ]

Don't move. [ The words are murmured against the curve of Claude's ear before teeth nip at the lobe and then Sylvain withdraws, sliding back around behind him, out of his line of sight - but most definitely retrieving the bottle of oil on his way. ]

[ There's barely enough time to react to Sylvain's leg slotting between his, the all too brief tease to his cock, teeth on his own mouth. What the other gets is something between an exhale and a laugh. Claude doesn't think he has to say aloud that being distracting is his favorite game for Sylvain to have already learned this several times over.

A shiver runs through him again, this time one of enjoyment and anticipation since none of that was a no. Another game: testing something which seems too good to be true just in case it is, even despite the entirety of the night before them and with what's still to come. The smirk will be lost on anyone else this time when he's spun around to face the desk and lets Sylvain maneuver him to be right where he wants him with no resistance, too pleased by all of it as he's leaned over the desk as requested.

But. Don't move is a specific instruction, it's true, and it's also an entirely different one than don't talk. ]

Or else what?

[ He's going to pair that with a look back over his shoulder all because he can just to flirt with where the line's drawn on the amount of moving when he's obediently keeping his hands where Sylvain placed them in the meantime. Surely that counts for something. Because of course Claude wasn't going to not be difficult at some point after all that compliance, and because he doesn't think it's unexpected by now. ]

Don't tell me you'd take away this desk's secret dream of being defiled by both of us after all this buildup.

[ He wouldn't dream of telling Claude not to talk. At least not during sex. He's already enjoying what he can make spill from the man's lips in the heat of the moment - coherent or otherwise.

Still, he's not at all surprised when Claude's first response to that order is to immediately do the opposite of it. He'd pretty much expected that. Although he does give the man's ass a playful, chiding smack, the sound of it echoing louder in the room than the light force he'd barely put into it. ]

Mmm. No. But I might start dragging out giving you want even longer, each time you do anything else. And that would drastically cut into the time we have available to get to the rest of those items on the list.

[ He spills some of the oil into his palm, heating it against his skin before reaching down to slide his hand down over the curve of Claude's ass, parting flesh and then purposefully circling that tight ring of muscle with a questing fingertip. Not pressing into him at all just yet. He leans over his back, sucking redness into the back of one of Claude's shoulder, his smirk curved against the warm flesh. ]

If you continue to be difficult, we could just stay right here the rest of the night, but you were the one getting impatient a moment ago.

[ One scoff - not a displeased one - immediately leaves his lips at the smack to his ass, and it's immediately followed by a louder one at the suggestion he's responsible for any slowness here. That's all Sylvain gets at first when he needs a second to formulate a better response.

There's a fine line to walk where he has to weigh that out carefully without too long of a pause, what with the ever present desire to be mouthy in response to anything vaguely phrased like a challenge and then actually making it one which could backfire. Backfire only in terms of taking too long since while stoking the flames of anticipation is one thing - impatience is another quick to override it as Sylvain draws things out intentionally and Claude grits his teeth temporarily to prevent any noise from escaping before he's picked a card to play. Two can certainly play this game. ]

We could, but I don't think you'll do that.

[ Confident, even as a familiar mouth presses into his shoulder with an expression he can feel without being able to see it. It's also said as eagerness has him leaning back against Sylvain's fingers when he's not going to pretend that isn't enjoyable despite preferring the one teasing him the most ventures farther. ]

Because I think you've pictured this too many times to stay only like this, especially when it doesn't earn you me calling out your name and knowing you caused it.

[ He can feel that lean, and even though it isn't actually a movement, he makes sure not to let his fingers press inside, just to make his point.

Claude's words - intentional challenge or not - get a low, husky chuckle from him and a moment later teeth bite down lightly on the curve of Claude's shoulder in chiding. ]

My, you really don't think much of my skills, do you? [ That smirk lingers, audible in his voice, as his finger deliberately makes another slow circle, coating the skin with slick oil. ] You don't think I couldn't have you doing that anyway? There's certainly no one else here that's going to make you scream their name tonight.

I think I just complimented them, actually.

[ There might've been the slightest hitch in his breath at the chuckle, then the tone, and then the bite, or maybe (definitely) both. Also Sylvain's fingers which aren't doing nearly enough; the whole point as he's well aware, which is exactly why rather than reacting Claude's just going to hum as if he's been presented something interesting to turn over in his mind. Which - what about finding the right way to nudge Sylvain into what he wants isn't a puzzle waiting to be solved? And an enjoyable one at that. ]

Much as I can do sight unseen, anyway, since you've yet to demonstrate these ones in particular. [ Just to emphasize that, Claude taps his fingers against where he's still holding onto the desk all in a further convenient way to test out the limits of don't move. ] But it's good to know you're not denying picturing it.

Why would I bother? [ Another sharp nip in chiding at the tap of those fingers, although he’s honestly more amused by Claude’s continued attempts of pushing the limits rather than annoyed. Clearly now he’s just giving him too much time to think and scheme.

He leans forward just enough to murmur in his ear again. ] I think we both know by now that the answer is ‘a lot’ and I don’t mind admitting it, either.

[ Before Claude can get an immediate retort out to that, however, he presses slick fingers inside of him, a pair instead of single digits, working them into him with a rough sort of care - keeping it intense without crossing into too much. It’s always a careful line to straddle, but he thinks he’s getting an idea of where that falls for Claude, in what they’ve done together so far. What has driven him silent, or makes his breath hitch, his body react. Or even draws some of those delicious sounds from his lips. Which he definitely intends to hear more of.

He works his fingers into the tight clench of muscle, working Claude open around them as he stretches him, the oil easing the way just enough, but he doesn’t let up on the stimulation as he does so. And if his fingertips quest for that sensitive bundle of nerves as he works him open, all the better for getting him exactly what he wants. ]

[ Sylvain's not wrong that they both know it, but admissions are always more fun. That he gets one puts a smirk back onto his face since it feels like a prize to hear it be said aloud and one he's absolutely going to wave around as such.

He's already in the process of opening his mouth for some obnoxious comment yet to be determined, but all that means is that when Sylvain finally slides fingers into him there's no disguising the barely choked off curse that escapes him. That's more from the satisfaction of finally getting (mostly) what he wanted as that careful line between rough and just enough is toed in exactly the way he likes without even needing to ask for it.

No finger tapping is happening now with his hands gripped around the edge of the desk, and though the temptation's certainly there to let go of it to dig his fingers into whatever part of Sylvain he can reach, he's not yet so far lost in the sensations to not know that would cause Sylvain to stop. And that is the last thing he wants - not with each pass of those fingers drawing small pleased noises out of him with the promise of more. Instead Claude settles ("settles") for leaning back again to encourage them deeper and towards the angle being sought as a small clue. ]

I've always found reality to be-- gods- [ Maybe the clue wasn't needed after all when fingers brush somewhere sensitive and it derails his thoughts for a solid few seconds, but - ] better than imagination alone. Maybe I should focus on making sure what you imagine later is very vivid.

[ He smiles at the choked sound of that curse, of the aborted retort interrupted halfway through. It's a high compliment of its own sort, his own version of a prize he'll be just as smug about later. But for now, he's all too focused on repeating it, maintaining that level of stimulation amidst the process of stretching tight muscles. And before Claude can adjust, giving him no time to catch his breath, he adds a third finger the moment it feels like the other man can take it. Still maintaining that intense edge of almost too much without ever crossing it.

It had been a game he enjoyed playing, once upon a time. Part of the reputation he'd so well-earned. Not for everyone, of course, but it had given him something to enjoy between the gold diggers and those chasing him for power and ambition. Or the ones just wanting to test his reputations for themselves. They'd all had their reasons. Very few of them just had much to do with him, however.

This is a much better way to put that knowledge and experience to use, he thinks with a smirk, purposefully brushing his fingertips over that spot again. And again. Wanting Claude far closer to desperate and begging before he gives him what he actually wants.

He chuckles against Claude's ear, nipping at the lobe before shifting slightly to trail sharp kisses down his exposed throat. Leaving reddening marks in his wake. ]

Oh, that's not going to be a problem, I assure you.

[ Sylvain is trying to kill him, he decides. More importantly, the carefully drawn out intensity and enjoying every last second of it even as he wants to ask for more certainly isn't a bad way to go. It's absolutely better than being taunted with the idea of fingers rather than actually with them, including when another's added and he has to hang onto the desk again, and it's definitely an excellent preface for what's to come. Hopefully. And - having just played this game with Sylvain on the opposite side of it - Claude knows where it's headed.

There's still the urge to hold onto some semblance of control even as Sylvain's eroding it little by little, each movement drawing the sounds from him he knows the other wants even if there could still be others, but he's still reserving those while he can. The fingers resolutely working him open, the laugh in his ear, the kisses down his throat that have him swallowing hard and not even caring how noticeable it is: Sylvain's definitely trying to kill him. ]

That makes two of us, then. [ It's an awful retort, but he can't even care when yet another brush of those fingers earns Sylvain another (very) poorly stifled moan as he finally has to lean down to rest his forehead on one arm for a moment. Totally only a moment. ] I didn't know you were planning on letting your fingers fulfill your fantasy for you, though.

[ There's a please in there somewhere given it's far from nonchalant like it could've been minutes ago. Claude can't even attempt to sound anything other than breathless since catching it isn't going to happen any time soon - not that he wants to with leaning back to take Sylvain's fingers again in a silent request for more. ]

Mmm. It could be my fingers. Or my tongue. Definitely something I'm going to have to try someday, considering all the noises you're making already. I'll add it to our list, shall I?

[ That breathless tone is exactly the one he's been looking for, in fact. Claude's still a little too coherent for his tastes, but he'd expect nothing less of the other man. It hadn't been hard to pick up that Claude hoarded his control as tightly as Sylvain did himself.

He's trying very hard not to read into it too much, that not only had he trusted Claude enough to let go of his... but also that the other man apparently could do the same.

But he didn't want to distract himself with too much thinking either, not now, not when he was going to need every ounce of focus he could muster. So while he's stroking three fingers into one last deep thrust to make sure Claude is ready for him, he uses his other hand to carefully - and maybe a bit precariously - drip some more oil into his palm and slick up his own cock, already hard again from anticipation alone. ]

Mmm, I wonder how long it would take to make you beg with just my tongue here instead? But don't worry, I know how greedy you are tonight. Can't have all that impatience returning, after all. [ Even if he's pretty sure that's inevitable. Or maybe already too late, in his case.

He does slip his fingers out then, but he doesn't give Claude a chance even now to catch his breath or gather his thoughts for more than a heartbeat or two. Instead, his hand slides up the man's spine until he can tangle fingers in his hair once more, tugging his head back at an angle and holding him there as he slides in between Claude's stretched legs. He leans over his back again, warm breath teasing against the curve of his ear. ]

Although I'll be nice and remind you not to move. At least until I give you permission. Since I'm sure you can still remember the consequences, yes?

[ He doesn't give him a chance to answer. Intended only to distract him with that, as he barely gets the words out before he starts pressing pass that tight ring of muscle, his slicked cock aching at how tight it is, despite the stretching he'd done. He's pretty sure it had been enough, but he has a moment of concern that this might be a little too rough for Claude, even as he thrusts into him. ]

Greedy? That's--

[ - not a thought Claude's going to get to finish, ready as he was to lodge it as a complaint both against what's said and for the loss of Sylvain's fingers after that last deep press had driven yet another noise from him. But the other has different plans than ones he's been teased with, and it doesn't take long for them to be revealed between Sylvain shifting behind him, the hand traveling up his back, and the words in his ear.

There's another second where he could've started to say something else, but if those fingers withdrawing had left a void it's quickly filled by Sylvain's cock. Whatever syllable it was melts into a curse, one purely of pleasure from that ache of something on the right side of rough. An instant goes by where he actually considers begging even if it'd been suggested to (somewhat) rile him up. In the end he settles for clenching around Sylvain to tighten around him more than he had thanks to that thrust and relishing every sensation of it.

It's closer - ever closer - to what he wants but still not enough as Claude's quickly learned Sylvain is a master of incrementally giving that to him. Each motion deliberate, each one meant to test his patience even as he stubbornly won't give in on some things. But then again, neither will Sylvain and even if he's more breathless than before, it won't keep him from pulling against that grasp on his hair again to enjoy it even further. Much as he'd rather run them along Sylvain's skin, he'll settle for digging his nails into what he can of the desk even if it's not nearly as satisfying considering there's only so much to grip.

But - consequences. The very word has him wetting his lips as he summons up composure to continue pushing back verbally in lieu of doing so physically. This time anyway as he finally listens to not moving while still insistent upon more; it's also not lost on him Sylvain seems to be enjoying that as much as he is. ]

If you don't want me to move, then you'd better pin me down while fucking me into this desk.

[ A breathless chuckle teases against Claude's ear as those fingers in his hair tighten, hold his head at just the right angle for him - and for Claude to strain against, because he hasn't missed the way the other man is relishing the feel of the restraint. It eases his concerns - for the moment, at least - about being too rough with him, or crossing a line they hadn't actually discussed before starting this.

But Sylvain's always been good for thinking on his feet, adjusting as the situation revealed itself. And this seems to be no exception. For all the difficulty he often has reading Claude's thoughts or emotions, in this, his language is clear as day and Sylvain already feels fluent in it. ]

That can certainly be arranged.

[ Which is what has his free hand sliding up one of Claude's arms to grasp his wrist in a tight hold. He times his next deep thrust just right, rocking Claude forward against the desk with the force of it, even as he maneuvers that arm behind Claude's back, pressing him down against the top of the desk and - between the hold on his wrist and the firm grip in his hair - pins him in place. Not giving him a chance to resist or struggle, he gives another deep rock of his hips instead, shifting the angle somewhat to accommodate the new position better. ]

Better?

[ The smug note in his voice - despite the strain in it, because he can feel the way Claude has clenched tighter around him in response, can feel the reactions to what he'd done shudder through the other man's body - hints that he already knows the answer to that question. ]

[ Of course, half the fun is waiting to see how he'll get pinned down when Sylvain's hand running along his arm is a good indicator it's going to happen. There's the obvious, which would simply be using that hand to keep his arm pressed against the desk itself.

He doesn't have long to wonder when one thrust sends him forward, the barest brush of nerves which would've sent him leaning further over if not for Sylvain taking care of that for him. By the time his arm is behind his back it's already in place. There's the barest twitch of one shoulder to test the grip as a force of habit. It isn't the sort of thing he'd normally allow for anyone else - that being something without a way to escape easily - but from Sylvain he finds he doesn't mind it. There's something to that, something about a level of trust not gained by many, and something that will eventually demand notice.

Fortunately for Claude, even if he'd wanted to pursue thinking it over right then, the next rock of Sylvain's hips turns his mind into nothing but white noise when that angle is finally just right. If it'd been enjoyable before, it's nothing compared to the familiar pleasure sparking through him that comes with the desire for more.

Hearing the question that's not a question in his ear pulls him right back to reality where sense still awaits him. ]

I don't think I have to tell you that. [ There's a faint laugh in his voice even if it's more breathless than before and said with more fondness behind it than he's even thinking about. Even if that alone is as good as saying yes, it's not like it's going to stop there as with what little leverage he has left he uses to press back against Sylvain as if it'll pull him any deeper. ] But if you're asking if it could still be better yet...

So greedy.

[ The comment is laughed against his ear again as he rocks into him once more, aiming for exactly that spot that had gotten him that delicious reaction. He still holds Claude in place, keeping him exactly where he wants him, knowing it will only emphasize the sensations he sends through him.

There was something that made everything more intense, when you trusted someone enough to let yourself be vulnerable like this. And he was a little surprised Claude was trusting him this far at all. It's a humbling thought, but one he intends to use to his advantage all the same - even if that's just to drive Claude half out of his mind with some of the (hopefully) best sex of his life.

He picks up the pace now that he has Claude pinned in place, leaving him with no choice but to just feel, intent on overwhelming every one of his senses as he sends pleasure relentlessly along his nerves. He keeps the pace quick and deep and still skirting that same edge of rough that Claude seemed to enjoy as much as he did. He soaks up every noise, every twitch, every clench of muscles tight around his own aching cock. Letting each reaction guide him as he learned everything Claude liked through reactions alone. And then doubling down on giving him everything he craved without ever being asked for it. ]

[ At this point, greedy's starting to feel a little more fitting to where Claude can admit it. To himself. Only in a very circuitous thought as it is since if it means getting to enjoy more of Sylvain's considerable skills, he's certainly not going to decline the opportunity.

The pace set is finally what he wanted and one more piece of whatever resistance he'd put up in the name of keeping control crumbles. Sylvain gets rewarded with pleased cries interspersed with his name for each of those thrusts when they start to build one on top of the other unrelentingly in a way he'd never ask to cease.

There's the passing thought, this one more coherent than the others which are definitely not, that Sylvain's entirely too good at this. It's not until one particularly deep thrust gets a gasp when it's all he can manage when actual sound feels too difficult and then it's immediately repeated and then repeated again in a way that's no coincidence he realizes what careful attention is being paid to everything. That it's not merely either of them chasing pleasure out of this with no regard for anything else.

The next time Sylvain's cock drags over those nerves it drives the air out of him, and with it any will to keep holding onto the desk with his one remaining free hand. It's tempting to find a space - somehow - where he could slide it to take his own cock in hand without Sylvain magically not noticing that. Though he's aching for the touch, instead Claude reaches back blindly and (after one near miss) winds his fingers into the other's hair and pulls with a moan of harder. ]

[ That tug in his hair gets a strained moan from Sylvain as eyes slide shut, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. He shudders, pace faltering before picking up again as he drags his focus back.

Turning his head, he nips sharply at Claude's earlobe, letting his teeth sink in to the fleshy curve in chiding. ] If this didn't feel so damned good, I'd be reminding you of those consequences right about now.

[ Except he had no intention of stopping anytime soon, not even for that. ]

Eh, fuck it, I'll punish you for it later.

[ That smirk is back in his voice as he picks up the pace, fucking into Claude harder, faster, deeper. Compounding the stimulation and pleasure, even as his breathing starts to become more ragged and broken, his own body shuddering from the blissfully tight friction, at how good Claude feels around him and how much he wants to let go and chase his own pleasure. But he won't. Not yet. He has other goals first.

And he wants to hear Claude beg him for more.

He gives another sharp nip to his earlobe between one deep thrust and the next. ] Also you forgot to say please.

[ The idea of punishing might've gotten an all too smug laugh from him if it wasn't for once more getting what he wants and Sylvain exponentially increases everything. Maybe there would've been a retort about this being punishment enough even if it's the exact opposite, and he's all too aware of what Sylvain's doing.

Claude can't bring himself to care when yet another thrust has him arching as much as he can in what limited space there is left for him. The same goes for flexing the arm in Sylvain's grasp, something they both know is useless even if it's something else to enjoy as much as the hand in his own hair.

The second nip gets his attention much more than the first, but not as much as every shudder from Sylvain and each breath getting raspier as they continue to push the intensity between them ever higher. Which is enough for what few braincells he has left to come up with an idea, one far more along the lines of being ornery in a way this night has taught him Sylvain enjoys several times over.

But - it's not worth it backfiring, not when every rock of hips drags him closer to the edge and there's every much of a chance of stopping even if Sylvain already abandoned those consequences. That has him clenching around the other's cock again in a very minor teasing revenge (that also benefits him). ]

Please, [ with a good yank of red hair to punctuate it in hopes of earning another moan before the next thrust has him letting go for a second before doubling down on another grasp, ] fuck me harder and get louder and I'll make sure the entire inn knows who made me come.

[ His grip tightens slightly around Claude's wrist when he feels that flex, bracing just in case Claude does intend to struggle. His attention is diverted momentarily, focusing laser sharp to check in with the other reactions he gets from the other man to make sure he's still okay. But when it's clear it's not an actual effort to free himself, Sylvain relaxes again.

That clench around him drags free a strained groan from reddened lips, hips hitching in the next thrust, the movement a little stuttered, because it's getting harder and harder to keep grasp of his own control the higher he pushes Claude. That yank of his hair gets a breathless laugh in Claude's ear as he finally releases his hold on Claude's own dark locks. But only to slide his hand down under him and sharply tweak one of the man's nipples in chiding. ]

That sounds like a good way to get us kicked out of the inn. But to hell with it.

[ Mostly because that had been his plan anyway, so it's no hardship to give him what he'd pled for, fucking into him harder, the movements sharp and purposeful now. And with that extra hand free now, it's easy to let it slide down Claude's body and wrap tightly around Claude's leaking cock, stroking it in time to his own thrusts into the man. ]

[ Despite his own words, Claude couldn't possibly care less about the rest of the inn. Sylvain has a valid point there's a good chance this will earn them a none too pleased knock on the door, but surely they can't be the first people to get too amorous in this inn or any other one in Aquila. Regardless, that's a problem for their future selves and not something he wants Sylvain to focus on either if grabbing a little more onto the hair in his grip is anything to go by in yet another silent plea to stop talking and focus.

He gets his wish. The first even harder thrust draws a choked out noise from him that's somewhere between a gasp and a moan as it's once again just at the right angle it seems like the other's memorized from that relentless pace. There's a temptation to lean his head down against the desk, to somehow beckon Sylvain even closer like there's any space left between them from being pressed against the desk, but the hand wrapping around his aching cock after going without touch for so long erases that thought and anything else that's not Sylvain.

It won't be much longer and he knows it, and it's less a thought than an instinct which has every noise and moan Sylvain draws from him getting louder and louder to match the sensations running through him that he doesn't want to end. As much as the other's hold on him allows he chases the hand around his cock, each thrust and stroke paired with a shudder of pleasure until one final rock of hips has him releasing his grip on hair to reach farther back to dig his fingers and nails into what he can reach of Sylvain's shoulder like it'll somehow steady him when orgasm finally rushes through him and claims everything else.

As he comes with a sharp cry of the other's name as promised, spilling over his hand and the desk as he still tries to seek as much everything as possible to make it last as long as possible and bring Sylvain over the edge with him. ]

[ Each one of those shudders comes with a clench of muscles around Sylvain's own cock, able to feel the pleasure he sends shivering along the other man's nerves as those noises he earns get louder. More breathless and strained. He knows Claude is getting closer even before he reaches back to sink nails into his shoulder, drawing a quiet hiss from Sylvain at the sharp sensation.

It just adds to everything Sylvain is already feeling, a momentary grounding to help him hold on a few moments more, to see Claude tip over that edge. And it's as beautiful a sight as he thought it would be, the man's head thrown back as he loses himself for a moment, more, in the pleasure that Sylvain gave him. An achievement he's more than a little smug about, because he doesn't think there's very many Claude would ever let see him like this.

But it's a short-lived thought, because this all feels too good and he'd clung to his own control for as long as he could. The feeling of Claude coming undone beneath him, around him, his name a hoarse cry on those lips, is more than enough to unravel the last threads of his own resistance and he fucks into Claude deep, riding the waves of the other man's orgasm, chasing his own. It doesn't take long before he's spilling with a deep shudder, fingers biting in maybe a little too tight in their grip around Claude's wrist without realizing it. Claude's name a choked curse on his lips as the pleasure washes through him, leaving him spent and more than a little weak in the knees.

Releasing his grip on Claude's wrist, he braces himself on one arm atop the desk, slumped over Claude's back as he drags ragged gasps of air into his lungs. His forehead rests between Claude's shoulderblades, pressed against his back as his breath puffs against warm skin. ]

Fuck.

[ Yeah, that about sums it up. ]

[ Sylvain chasing his pleasure drives gasp after gasp out of him, each thrust playing upon sensitive nerves in a way that rides the line between pleasurable and too much just as everything else has. Which is to say: all of it is every bit as enjoyable as he presses back against Sylvain as much as he can again. It has him reluctantly letting go of the other's shoulder, much as he wants to keep his fingers sunk into it to mark him even more, because he has to put that palm down to make sure he stays standing even with the help of the other man's grasp around him.

He can tell Sylvain's close and if he could manage words, there'd be plenty that he'd offer like any number of those plans from before. What he has to offer is encouraging him on until he feels the other man coming, something that brings a grin to his face that only gets wider when Sylvain slumps against him to catch his breath. ]

Now who can't move?

[ Not a complaint. Claude's more than smug in his own way since he'll have to settle for putting that grin of satisfaction over everything into his voice. Or maybe into teasing Sylvain a bit more to go with it, tightening a bit around his likely still sensitive cock for the sensation even as it causes his own breath to hitch when it doubles back to get him too.

Which is, of course, all the more reason to do it again or until Sylvain tells him to stop, though the next one has him putting his own arm forward to brace himself against the desk. That also provides a chance to admire the light finger marks around his wrist before idly resting his hand overtop Sylvain's without really thinking about the action, spurred on by some subconscious urge for more contact. ]

That makes two of us. Hope you're ready to carry me back to bed when we can both manage it.

Both of us, clearly.

[ The words are murmured into the flushed, damp skin of Claude's back, but his grin is still audible all the same.

There's a soft hiss when Claude tightens around him, body shuddering in the aftershocks still from his orgasm and nerves all too sensitive still in the aftermath of intense pleasure. He lifts his head enough to nip sharply at Claude's shoulder in chiding. ]

It's going to take longer, if you keep doing that.

[ Not telling him no, however. Not that he would anyway. It still feels incredible, even if his body is all but humming from the stimulation and the lingering spasm that shiver through his muscles. The nip turns to sucking kisses, marking his way up the back of Claude's shoulder to his throat once more. ]

Goddess. You're fucking gorgeous when you come. I knew you would be.

If that was meant to dissuade me, it's not working.

[ Another grin makes its way onto his face and into his words again, and the same goes for when teeth find his shoulder. They find it all too briefly in his opinion and that hiss and shudder from Sylvain were nice but also not enough. Time to tighten around him once more.

Turns out Claude didn't have long to wait for more from the other's mouth as it travels over him, and there's an all too pleased hum when those clever lips find his throat. It only takes but a second before he tips his head back to lean it as best he can against Sylvain's shoulder to open up more space. ]

I am, aren't I. [ Now he's playing this particular level of smugness mostly for laughs and to entertain them both as he runs the fingers of his free hand up as much of Sylvain's arm as he can reach before resting it against the back of his neck to keep him close. ] Though that just means I still need to see you come rather than feel it alone. I want the full experience when I'm sure it's every bit as wonderful as it sounded. Something I think we'd better fix in the morning, don't you?

Wore you out that much, did I?

[ There's a playful note in his voice as he nips at Claude's earlobe, letting his hands free at last so he can wrap them around Claude's torso. He suspects the desk isn't going to be very comfortable the longer they lean on it - especially for Claude - so after another moment of catching his breath he - reluctantly - pulls out of the other man.

And then, just because Claude had teased him about it, swept the other man over one shoulder so he could carry him back to the bed and drop him on his ass on the mattress with a smug little smirk. He spares a moment to drink in that sight - a naked Claude spread out before him, clearly spent and still flushed from pleasure, reddened love bites very visible on his skin - before crawling up beside him and stretching out so he can kiss him once more. Finally. It had been the only downside to their positioning. He hadn't been able to see Claude's face well, either, or claim his mouth in the midst of pleasure.

Not that he minded hearing all those delicious sounds completely unmuffled in exchange. ]

Are you sure you're going to be up to moving that much, come morning?

[ There's no chance to respond to that mildly snarky comment before he's swept up in Sylvain's arms in a rare lack of foresight, and the action gets a startled yelp from him. Just as quickly he's deposited back on the bed which naturally demands an equally dramatic oof as he goes. Claude's tempted to reach to take the boots off before they get too comfortable and he ends up sleeping in them - but then stops himself when he notices Sylvain's none too subtle admiration. And he can hardly ruin the other's view just like that, can he?

The start of a grin stretches across his face upon watching Sylvain crawl closer until it's interrupted by a mouth on his that's far too easy to lean into. There's that undercurrent of something he's not naming beneath it as he rests one hand on Sylvain's nearest bicep and the other curved around a strong jaw. ]

I said I wanted to feel it tomorrow, didn't I? You certainly delivered on that and then some, because I know you're going to gloat about it. [ Mumbled against those lips with maybe the hint of a smirk before he closes that barely there distance for another kiss since that feels like it needs it. Like it's more than necessary. ] Gloat while you can, though, since I plan on doubling down on it in the morning. For you, that is.

[ That warning - threat? - gets a husky chuckle from him as he obligingly kisses him more, mouth possessive against Claude's own as he lets his hand slide up to cradle against his cheek. The impatience of earlier has calmed into something slower and languorous, lazy almost, as he takes advantage of this closeness and the freedom to do... well, whatever he wants, it seems. ]

Oh, I'm looking forward to it.

[ He is absolutely going to be gloating a lot. For quite a while. But for now, he delivers one more deep kiss before pulling back. ]

I'm gonna go grab a wet cloth to get us cleaned up for the night. The rest can hold till morning. Or eventually. [ And then he glances down the length of Claude's body and gives a soft, mournful sigh. ] And I suppose you'll need to take those off before bed.

[ Truly the saddest part of the evening. ]

[ The possessiveness is easy to feel, something akin to a river current tugging at his ankles to demand attention or to be swept away in it. He's not quite to the point of the latter, instead flirting with the idea more than anything else. This is what Claude tells himself, anyway, considering maybe it was closer to that when Sylvain pulls back.

Cleaning up is a good idea. It's tempting to put it off a bit longer though he lets his hands fall away so as to not keep him there. That very heavy sigh as though Sylvain's been presented with something positively life-ruining is too difficult to not laugh at as he settles back against their pillows. ]

You look like they're going to vanish forever once I'm no longer wearing them. I'm sure I could find a reason to keep them around.

[ Like this reaction, for example. Or all the other reactions Sylvain's had to the boots over the course of the night, really. Something to think about for later, because in the meantime he's going to lift one leg very helpfully. ]

Or better yet, you could always take them off for me to enjoy them a little longer.

[ That totally counts, right? ]

Mmm, tempting.

[ Sylvain has always been very bad at resisting temptation. Maybe because it's not very often something manages to actually tempt him. Which Claude is proving to be a very large exception to.

Shifting, he trails kisses along the inside of Claude's thigh as his fingers slide down the soft, supple leather to start undoing the lacings, peeling the boots away as they loosen. His lips follow the trail of skin as he exposes it, taking his time. ]

[ Somehow he hadn't expected Sylvain to escalate the offer to take off his boots for him as if it's entirely too troublesome to sit up and do that himself. His next mistaken assumption is that those kisses along his thighs will stop after a certain point, but they don't. They continue on in a way that says the other knows exactly what he's doing - even if there's no reason Claude should've ever doubted as much.

There's a warning bell ringing in the back of his mind: this would be far too easy to get used to. Even entertaining that thought feels like a calculated risk. Because sure, they've joked about next time before it turned into actual plans possibly only a night of sleep away, but even that's different. This is pleasure of a different kind. Something simpler, something uncomplicated if it was freely given like this, something closer to standing on that dock feeling seen, or -

Best to not get carried away. Time to reach for an unruly lock of red hair to tug on it in faux reprimand. ]

I said you could take the boots off, not find new ways to flatter me.

[ He's sure not saying stop, though. ]

[ That gets a throaty chuckle from him as he grins impishly, the smile cast up the length of Claude's body as his dark gaze flicks up to meet Claude's own. He presses one more kiss to warm skin, just inside his knee, and peels the one boot the rest of the way off.

One down. One to go. ]

Are you trying to tell me you're not susceptible to flattery, then? I'm not sure I believe that.

[ His impish grin lingers as he drops the boot over the side of the bed and moves to start unlacing the other one. Still playing, he purposefully drops another kiss to the inside of this thigh as well, eyes flicking up to remain locked on Claude's face as he does so, just to see his reaction. ]

[ If he'd had any doubts about whether Sylvain knows what he's doing, they would've been put to rest with that grin. It could almost be annoying if it wasn't so endearing - maybe also because it matches something in his own box of tricks. That just means it demands a smirk in return, especially when he's getting what he wants out of this.

Claude's still going to stretch his leg out dramatically in relief and in the process possibly narrowly avoids hitting Sylvain with his knee, but it's worth celebrating being free of one boot at least even if it crushes the other's hopes and dreams. Or maybe it doesn't since they both seem to be plenty entertained by the boot removal in the first place. ]

I dunno, I think I have several months on my side as evidence. [ He's already admitted that wasn't the reason, but given that's not something he actually wants to talk about again, that means it of course makes a perfectly good joke to deflect away that he's rather enjoying enjoying this. Sylvain gets a wider smirk when he checks. ] Though I suppose you do get some credit for being... let's say, persuasive.

Well, that is meant to be one of my best charms, after all.

[ His lips quirk in a teasing smirk as he finishes unlacing the second boot and peels it away to drop over the side of the bed with the first.

Only to slide his hands back up along Claude's shins and the outside of his thighs, still unable to get enough of touching him. Of the fact that he can. His movements are still lazy and relaxed, clearly sated for the moment and comfortable with the playful banter that always falls so easily between them. There's an ease to him that's not always so easy to spot, unguarded and content, with no other motive than to just enjoy the moment.

It's not a feeling he's all that familiar with, if he's honest. ]

Better?

[ Sylvain takes his time in lingering even after the other boot disappears, and it does nothing to reduce that feeling of comfort. Enough so that while he has any number of remarks about the other's best charms, saying one them feels like interrupting something in what Claude recognizes is a slow appreciation going on. On both sides, really, because he'd be lying to himself if he said it was one-sided.

So it's not being disruptive, or so he reasons, when Sylvain breaks the tiny bit of quiet first by asking if this is an improvement and he immediately screws his face up into a thinking expression like this is somehow a question he has to really consider. ]

Getting there, but I think things could still improve.

[ Never mind that Sylvain had a plan for what he was going to do before the side quest of removing the boots because Claude's going to continue being distracting now that he's been given the chance. That includes sitting up enough to do the reverse of what the other's doing, this time by placing his hands over the back of Sylvain's only as a starting place to run his hands up strong arms until he reaches upper arms to wrap his fingers around them to pull. Claude means to drag him back up into lying down, but he'll settle for getting a kiss out of it. For starters. ]

[ He gives a soft moan into that kiss, tempted to just acquiesce and push Claude back down onto the mattress again to kiss him for longer. But he suspects that if he gives in now, it's going to be quite some time before he actually succeeds in getting them cleaned up. Which would also be okay, but...

He slips a finger over Claude's mouth to interrupt that kiss a moment later, even if it is reluctantly. And then steals one more before pulling back and slipping off the side of the bed. ]

Hold that thought.

[ He's only gone a matter of moments before he's back again, warm washcloth in one hand as he leans over his lover. Pressing Claude back to the pillows, he lets one hand work at cleaning him up, even as he bends to capture the man's mouth with his own once more in a deep kiss. No reason they can't do both at once, after all. ]

Do I have to?

[ It's not much of a sulk considering Sylvain had announced his intentions before being dealt distraction after distraction, but Claude's still going to lean back on his elbows like he's inconvenienced regardless. That doesn't last for long considering Sylvain's back in a near instant and Claude lets himself be placed back where he was, one corner of his mouth curved upwards in a half-smile until there's lips on his again.

Then it's easy to be distracted himself again even as Sylvain carries on with the washcloth, one kiss after another muffling whatever small sigh of contentment leaves him at one point. For all the guards he puts up and should maybe remember to set back into place, it's suddenly difficult. There's that feeling of care again being directed at him in a way which could easily pull him towards something else he's decisively not letting himself feel.

It's with that in mind Claude decides to reach for the washcloth without looking by running his fingers down Sylvain's arm again to retrieve it, nipping the other's bottom lip as he takes over cleaning duty while focusing on Sylvain. ]

Maybe you should add multitasking to your list of charms while you're at it.

Pretty sure that was already on my list, but some would disagree with that being considered a charm.

[ There's a soft chuckle under the words as he lets Claude take the damp cloth from him, content to brace himself over the man and just keep kissing him.

He's still trying not to dwell on how... comfortable this is. How easy it had come. How reluctant he was to end the affection even now, when he's pretty sure they're going to need a longer break than just a few minutes. Normally by now he'd be settling in and getting ready to sleep. But he can't quite tear his hands - or his lips - away from the man beneath him.

He has a feeling he's not going to feel sated when it comes to Claude, for a long while. Which would be a scary thought, if Claude weren't so damned distracting. And perhaps as distracted by this as he was.

His hands slide up the man's arms, calloused fingers light and teasing, until they come to rest against his jaw once more, letting Claude do whatever he wanted as long as he could indulge in the decadent kisses he could steal from him. ]

[ He might've laughed at that and probably would have were it not for the mouth on his immediately following it. For once in his life Claude's not inspired to keep talking; indulge is a good word for what they're both doing when the outlines of this feel more and more freeing with each kiss pulling him farther and farther into forgetting all his carefully constructed rules for everything.

Dangerous. Somewhere there's a pile of kindling waiting to spark, and who knows where it might lead. It's the sort of thing he'd approach with caution - and might later, if he remembers to - but right now it feels far from his mind.

The washcloth gets tossed aside as a problem for their future selves to deal with when he's finished, and now it's Claude's turn to place his hands on Sylvain's face. Rather than letting them rest there he trails them down to the other's jaw - a convenient spot to then slide both thumbs over the other's lips after leaning a little bit back more in the pillows to break the kiss. ]

This might just be a rumor I've heard, but I did hear once morning doesn't technically come if you don't sleep first. [ This is absolutely the sort of thing he heard as an unruly child, the memory of which is all the more reason to bring a grin to his face along with the sight of Sylvain over him. ] It'd be a shame to miss out on our list because of a technicality like that, wouldn't it?

Or, one could make the argument that if morning never comes until we sleep, we suddenly have an awful lot of time to work through that list before we have to worry about being responsible adults again.

[ His lips are quirked into a smirk as Claude's thumbs slide over them, amusement warm in dark eyes. Because he's pretty sure that's the opposite of what Claude had been trying to point out.

Doesn't make it any less a valid argument, however.

If we don't get any sleep tonight, though, it's all your fault.

[ He sounds very confident about that, at least. ]

I'm not sorry if you don't get any sleep because of anticipation for the morning. That just means a job well done on my part.

[ Because he's going to take a chance to jokingly pat himself on the back and bring a theme of the night back full circle again to nicely tie it all together, and the grin on Claude's face says he might be more than a little proud of this. There's a risk here that continuing to look at Sylvain like this might actually derail whatever tenuous plans of sleep have been voiced, especially as the seconds continue to tick by and he can feel that distraction creeping in.

Without further ado he wraps one leg around the other's waist while dropping his hands back to strong shoulders and uses both to roll Sylvain onto his side. That's a start. ]

Step one is you laying down, so there's that one checked off the list.

You realize that's step one to a whole lot more things than just sleeping.

[ There's laughter in his tone as he drops back to the mattress, grinning at Claude all the while. His hand drops to slide up the outside of the man's leg, where it's still twined around his waist. Chuckling, his voice low and husky, he drags Claude closer so they're chest to chest now, bending his head to drop a kiss on the tip of his nose. ]

It might be, but this step is a particularly important one. Don't go breaking my trust on it so quickly.

[ With a grin to match Sylvain's laughter since - well, he's not wrong, and it seems funnier to Claude to turn this into a joke. If there's a possibility he unconsciously means something besides joking around about sleeping and all this procrastination, that's beyond him at the moment.

Especially when he's pulled closer still to enjoy the warmth that comes along with it, when Sylvain leaves that kiss on his nose, when he studies the other's face with an aloofly smiling mask set in place - maybe it does cross his mind as in the same instant he considers whether it'd be worth putting yet another wall down, and then just as quickly abandons that idea. That hinges upon far too much with so many unknowns.

Instead he lifts a hand to again trail fingers along one side of Sylvain's jaw, smile shifting subtly again to something that's less of a stand-in for one. ]

See, this is the part where you get too comfortable to move and fall asleep. Works every time.

I will if you will.

[ His tone turns fond at that, gaze dropping to trace the curve of that smile. So many of Claude’s smiles are a puzzle in themselves and Sylvain is still piecing them together. This one, though, has him dropping his head enough to steal another kiss. ]

C’mere. [ A tug, as one arm twines about Claude’s waist and the other lifts to tuck his head in against Sylvain’s shoulder as he settles them comfortably and drags the sheet up over them. He knows Claude typically has difficulty sleeping, and while he sometimes has his ways around that, tonight he wants to see if they can just lull themselves there on their own. ]

Close your eyes.

[ A light brush of a kiss against his brow and then fingers card through his dark hair soothing, absently, maintaining the contact as he waits to see if Claude will relax. ]

[ There's a huff of a laugh at that - threat? promise? - agreement about sleeping, if only because he still fully believes in what he'd said. Of all the times he's stayed in anyone's bed after the fact, rare as those times were to begin with, Claude can count practically on one hand the amount of times where he was the one sleep came to him first. That's a further guard he doesn't let down even after the one of ending up in bed in the first place, and this won't be any different. He's sure of it.

The arm around his waist leads him to settling into Sylvain's shoulder even before he's beckoned into doing so, as if some kind of magnet's drawn him there. It feels - secure, which he thinks is a funny word for his mind to have chosen over comfortable, but he doesn't dwell on it in favor of resisting the urge to roll his eyes. ]

Fine, but only if you are, too.

[ Gotta stick to making sure Sylvain falls asleep too, after all. For the sake of it he'll close his own to make sure should the other make the completely reasonable move of checking whether they're actually both doing this. That means it's easier to focus on enjoying the hand in his hair and to relax a little bit more than has occurred to him by the time he considers that he's just resting his eyes. Definitely. It's nothing more than that in the ongoing attempt to make sure he's the last one awake.

What it actually means is that when sleep begins to creep in he doesn't even notice it happening, and his last thought might be something along the lines of feeling secure again, but it'll go unfinished as he finally drifts off. ]

[ Despite the frosty atmosphere in the loft and Hilda's very palpable absence after her argument with Claude, she at least makes an effort to return to the loft several days leading up to Sylvain's birthday.

When Sylvain leaves his room on the morning of the 5th, he'll be assaulted with an obnoxious bouquet of shimmering, iridescent balloons that shimmer and shine. Any attempt to move them will result in sigils to activate, prompting dark green, blue and gold confetti to blow around inside the balloons and words to spin across the surface of the balloons spelling out, 'Happy birthday, Sylvain!' Eventually, several days later they'll pop like bubbles, leaving no trace of them behind.

Weighing the balloons down is a gigantic wrapped box. The heavy box is wrapped in black, matte paper, tied together with a Faerghus blue ribbon. Instead of a bow however, it's held down by a gold wax seal that reads, 'S.J.G.'

Opening the box will reveal several things: a black envelope with his name written in gold ink, a dark green journal that is clearly intended for recording his tea blends or recipes if the embossed teacup and wooden spoon on its cover are any indication. He might get the impression it's built specifically for observations; it's filled with places to doodle flowers or plants, spaces to list ingredients and graph paper to record temperature and boiling points. Below it sits a thick, black denim apron, decked out with big pockets, adjustable leather straps, a towel loop, and his initials meticulously embroidered in a small corner of one of the top pockets. He can probably guess that she did it herself. There's also a gift certificate tucked into the top of the pocket for a private lesson with one of the top chefs at a critically acclaimed cooking academy in Aquila.

And finally, underneath the apron, is another box. It's a dead giveaway what it is based on the checkboard pattern. The chessboard itself is made of a sturdy, dark walnut, polished, burled, smooth and melded with brass and sliver pieces. Lifting the board will reveal the chess pieces, weighty and made of antique gold and silver. The bottom of the pieces have soft velvet attached to them to avoid scratching the surface of the board. If he's observant enough, he'll notice there are faint runes etched into the base of the pieces. The next time he plays with them, he might be in for a surprise; each one seems to have been slightly enchanted to animate according to their role once they've been moved into place on the board. She may or may not have been working on this for a month or so.

The envelope, if he opens it, will contain a letter that reads, ]

𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯!

𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘣𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐'𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵. 𝘑𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦!

𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦? 𝘒𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘥𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺.

𝘹𝘹 𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘢

[ On the morning of Sylvain's birthday, there's a bundle placed by his door for when he wakes to discover it. Inside are a few things stacked on top of each other waiting to be unwrapped by their new owner.

Aside from a couple pouches of black tea since searching still hasn't turned up bergamot, first is a fountain pen to replace worrying about having enough quills to write with around. Or better yet, from having to make sure any quill doesn't get damaged while tucked into the bound journal in the package beneath it. It's not a cookbook (this time) as the pages of the journal are blank and unlined, meant for being filled in with words, drawings, or anything its owner might like to place between them.

Something that will certainly help with that is next in the largest box of all. Inside it is a knife sharpener, though granted that it also looks somewhat like a large box with slots that doesn't immediately make it clear what it's used for, there's a couple small notes attached. One reads Knives go here ⬎ next to the slots, and another reads Press this to make it work ⟶ where it's pointing to a switch. If flipped, the sharpener will come to life thanks to the motor inside with the sharpening plates moving enough like weapons maintenance to make it clear this is one less step Sylvain has to deal with before doing something far more enjoyable for him: cooking or preparing ingredients or supplies for his tea ventures.

Also importantly, there's a letter folded inside an envelope, written in mostly neat script:

Happy birthday, Sylvain—

For someone whose care makes the world a better place around them and makes rooms brighter by being in them, and for everything you've done and all you're yet to do.

May this year be full of projects you never dreamed of trying before, but that you have all the time in the world to pursue now to be whoever you want to be.

—Claude.

It's a sentiment not accurately captured in writing, circular as it is in those sentences. But some things are better said in person, aren't they? It'll do until the right time comes and hopefully confirms each gift being chosen deliberately. The other gift is that it was rather early when these were left so no early wakeup time went along with it. All the better for going out to lunch later to further celebrate. ]

Edited 2023-06-05 12:56 (UTC)

[ When she had come up with her clever plan of avoiding the loft, Hilda hadn't quite thought it through as well as she thought she had.

Unfortunately, she had neglected to take into account that after moving into the loft all of her clothes had moved with her, meaning that she didn't have any clothes left at the inn, and definitely didn't have any clothes at the Old Public Hall. In the time that it had taken her to unpack all of her clothes, she had come to the conclusion that it was best to put space between herself and the boys. Her abrupt departure had meant that she had quickly stuffed only about a week's worth of clothing into her suitcase. And while some people might have been able to live out of a suitcase and repeat the same outfits in a week, Hilda had quickly discovered she wasn't one of them.

She could have come and gone as she pleased, but her avoidance stemmed from the fact that she wanted to see little of Claude and give Sylvain as much room was possible even after she had apologized for the spa. Which explains why she had ensured that coast was clear before tiptoeing into the loft that day.

The plan had been to get in and out as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, a book she had been looking for wasn't in the same place she had thought she had left it. A quick scan through the bookshelves in the living room proves fruitless. She clatters through the loft back towards her room ready to give up, but not before noticing that the door to Sylvain's room has been left ajar. It's unlikely it's in there - she can't imagine him being remotely interested in gem stone setting - and she moves towards the door to close it all the way when she spots something in the corner of his room.

The loft remains silent. Her curiosity wins out. Seconds later she's striding through the door and right up to what she had seen. But she doesn't need to get that close to see that her suspicions had been right the first time. With the fox mask in her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as the night in the maze comes rushing back to her. But the recollection of her night of pleasure is short lived as dread and realization comes crashing in at once.

If this mask was in Sylvain's room then that means -

Oh, Goddess, no. ]

[ He finds her like that, a few moments later. He'd been out on the terrace, checking on some of the seedlings he'd planted last week, and stepped back inside to a still-too-quiet loft. Not realizing he was no longer alone, he heads back to his room, distracted.

And then comes to a stop in the doorway to see her standing there, clutching the fox mask he'd worn the night of the masquerade. The night he'd chased her through the garden maze, even if he's still pretty sure she hadn't guessed it was him. He thinks. There were a couple times he was certain she had, but since she hadn't said anything since then...

Well, shit. ]

Hilda?

[ No matter how much her brain is still trying to deny it, the realization that Sylvain had been Lief feels like cold water being spilled down her back. It all makes sense now that she sees the mask sitting here in his room. Despite the added scent of the roses and fey wine that evening, it's difficult for Hilda to forget a scent. The smell of the forests combined with the undertone of muskiness that she attributes to Sylvain are unmistakable now in hindsight and the flush of heat to her cheeks begins to make its way down her neck.

Her gaze is ripped from the fox mask in her hands towards the voice that sounds from the doorway. Hilda's pink eyes are blown wide at the sight of Sylvain. Her grip on the mask is tight and she doesn't let it go even though it suddenly feels warm in her hands, like it's the source of why she's suddenly flushed.

They hadn't been alone for very long together since her hurried apology at the beach. The longest time they had spent together had been...well, the feywild. A string of curse words resound in her head and there's another pregnant pause because she has no idea what to say. Had he known it was her? If he did, why didn't he say anything at the time? If he didn't know it was her, should she tell him that she's suddenly put all the pieces together?

A maelstrom of feelings whirl inside her but she finally she manages to force his name past her lips. ]

Sylvain.

[ His gaze drops to how she clutches the fox mask to her, he knuckles white with tension, and it has his jaw tensing slightly. Bracing himself, because he’s not expecting this to go well.

He should have hidden the damn thing. But he hadn’t expected to find her in his bedroom, either. Not when she’d barely been back to the loft in weeks.

But for now, he just plays it casual, coming into the room and nudging the door shut behind him to give them privacy. Not that he expected Claude home anytime soon, but just in case…

He folds his arms over his chest as he arches an eyebrow at her curiously. ]

Did you need something?

[ Strolling boldly into the boy's rooms is a habit of hers still leftover from their Academy days. Or rather, strolling into Claude's is an old habit; the only reason she quietly pushed the boundaries with Sylvain had been upon arrival in Abraxas and had only been because he shared a room with Claude. And yet, despite knowing this, the ground beneath her feet feels uneven and she has no idea where to go from here.

As the door is nudged closed, her already stick straight posture, stiffens a fraction more. Her feelings are a tangled knot covered in a layer of shock that's quickly thawing. Once it does, even she isn't sure what emotion will emerge. What she does know for certain is that she's certainly not ready for this. ]

I was looking for a book of mine.

[ There's only a fraction of a second before she lets out a light airy laugh that he'd easily be able to pick out as a telltale sign that she's putting it on. Slowly she begins to sidestep, transferring the mask behind her back as if forgetting that it's in her hands in the first place. She gives him a wide berth as she attempts to make a move for the door. ]

I searched through all of the bookcases and couldn't find it. But if I had known you were here, I would have come and asked.

Edited 2023-07-14 15:14 (UTC)

[ Except he’s still barring her way to the door. In fact, he purposefully slouches back against it, leaning against it now with his arms still crossed over his broad chest.

There’s amusement lingering in his dark gaze as he watches her put on a familiar act, but he knows her far too well to fall for that. Even if he indulges her quite often by letting her think otherwise. ]

My bedroom isn’t the one that typically eats books in this house, you realize.

[ Hilda's cheeks puff up momentarily at the sight of her exit with an added obstacle now leaning against it. She has half a mind to shove him aside and make a run for it before realizing that's probably a sure fire way for her to be dragged onto some surface or pinned by him which is the last thing she wants. If she has to rethink her escape route, so be it. She could be patient and avoid the fox in the room.

Her escape momentarily halted isn't the only thing contributing to her pouting; it's the not-so-subtle poking at her terribly laid plan. It's the mention of the other person in this loft that she's been purposefully avoiding too. Truthfully she had thought about taking a quick look through Claude's room, but that would lead to further frustration that she didn't want to grapple with.

Playing off like she isn't as flustered as she is is clearly the best course of action. Cocking her head to the side and crossing her arms across her chest gives the impression that there's probably some attitude in whatever reply she's going to give him next. But her fingers fiddling absently with the fox mask that she still has in her hand is a clear sign that she's anything but calm and collected. ]

You read, don't you? Besides, if I tried to find it in that sink hole for books, I'd get caught in it too.

Well, I can’t argue that part.

[ His voice is dry as he falls back on the familiarity of fondly ragging on the Disaster that is Claude’s room. He can do it in better cheer now that he’s not actively sharing said room with him. ]

I’m assuming you didn’t find what you were looking for?

[ The question is mild enough, but there’s something very deliberate in the way his gaze drops to fixate on the mask she’s still clutching tightly and fidgeting with. ]

[ Had she not been in a state of avoidance and annoyance the last month and a half with Claude, she would have found more humour in the ribbing of his room. Instead it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth that she has to put some mild effort into ignoring so that she can focus on Sylvain and getting out of this room.

His eyes dropping to the mask in her hands hasn't gone unnoticed unfortunately, but she isn't certain she's ready to talk about it yet. She can't even be certain what that look means. It doesn't betray anything in regards to him knowing it was her, and she'd happily go another several weeks, months even, not knowing. The shock had melted, giving way to the next layer in her tangle of feelings: the unmistakeable desire to avoid talking about their moment in the feywild. ]

Nope! [ The brightness in her voice is only slightly forced. ] No sign of it. Sooo, if you don't mind just moving out of the way for me, I'll just be on my way. Really important meeting at the Old Public Hall, you know how it is!

[ Another tentative step is taken towards Sylvain as she motions with her head to the side as if that will somehow magically move him. Hilda had learned early on what Perry's weight limits were and sadly, there is no way he can just toss Sylvain away from the door so she can make her getaway. ]

[ He watches her continue to try and skirt around him - and the topic, clearly - but no, he’s had enough of that from both of them in recent weeks. If that means he’s going to have to start being the one being blunt, then so be it.

Which is why he doesn’t move, making himself as solid a barrier in her way as the door he leans against. ]

Maybe I do mind.

[ Part of being being a spoiled princess means being perceptive enough to know when her wheedling and simpering isn't working. This is one of those moments. Usually in these types of scenarios, she'd have a choice to either continue wheedling with a slightly different spin on it, or back off and pivot in a completely different direction. Were she more irritated with Sylvain, a third option she typically didn't resort to may have reared its head, but as it stands, avoidance is still the name of the game.

Something in her pleasant expression freezes as if she can't believe that Sylvain is doing this to her. A beat later all that remains is a neutral expression and the sense that she's mildly annoyed by this turn of events. That too is quickly folded under a mask of curiosity however. ]

Is there something you wanted to talk to me about then?

[ He shoots her a slow, easy smirk, nothing else given away in his expression as he searches her face, his own eyes dark and steady. ]

Is there something you think we should be talking about right now, Hilda? Or do you intend to continue avoiding me like everything else around here lately?

[ Mild surprise ripples through her expression and pink colours her cheeks at the not so subtle call out.

Her first reaction is to protest and say that she isn't - but the words die on her lips. She is avoiding him. Had that not been the intention since she had stepped into the loft? Is that not what she had been trying to do the last several minutes? It's hard to deny that she isn't when moments ago she had wondered if Perry could all but tackle Sylvain out of the way. But the last thing she expects to hear is that everything else around him is avoiding him too. What is that supposed to mean?

She chews on the silence, guilt beginning to creep in on her peripheries. ]

You're the one that's stopping me from leaving. You tell me.

[ That wasn't the answer he was hoping for and there's a momentary flicker of disappointment in his gaze when she keeps evading him, even if its just verbally at the moment.

But it does wear thin on his remaining patience and he finally steps forward, putting himself in her personal space, curious whether she'll stand her ground or back away. ]

Fine, then. I think it's definitely time we had a talk, don't you think? Or do you just intend to avoid me forever? Is that the plan?

[ Hilda has spent enough time around Sylvain at this point to catch the flicker of disappointment on his face. She wishes she hadn't. It would make trying to ignore the rising guilt easier.

There's other things to distract from that though and it's Sylvain stepping towards her to close the space between them. Instinctively she almost takes a step back but his words draw out the little spark of annoyance that had been tangled in the ball of feelings that she hadn't identified until now.

It prompts her to stand her ground, placing a hand on her hip to frown at him. ]

There is no plan. [ There is. A poorly crafted one - but it's still a plan. ] And even if there were, it isn't that. I just don't know what you want to talk about. I apologized about the spa unless - [ She holds up the fox mask. ] you want to talk about this mask.

[ His gaze flits down to the mask and then back to her face before a corner of his lips quirks upwards. He arches an eyebrow at her, patient. ]

Sure. We can talk about the mask. [ He leans in closer to her, bending over where she stands with her hand propped on a hip, giving him attitude that just makes him want to kiss her again. ] We probably should, don't you think? Although you're the one that seems to have something on your mind in regard to it. Enlighten me.

[ Sylvain leaning into her only prompts her to lean backwards. As he does, her eyes flicker towards his lips for a split second before catching herself. Don't look at his lips, Hilda! Shortly after she rips her eyes back to his, it dawns on her that whatever intimidating air she had tried to put on is traded for a mildly comedic one instead - but she can't dwell on that either.

His chosen words certainly give off the impression that he knows something. Stubbornly she gives him a look before giving him something between a whine and a huff - ]

You're so annoying. That wasn't me saying I wanted to talk about it, that was me asking you if you wanted to talk about it.

[ Quickly she shoves the mask in his face in an attempt to claim some of her own space back. ]

Tell me why you have it.

[ He doesn't back away, quite content to stay in her space. Especially because it was getting her all riled at him. Probably not the best way to start this conversation, but he enjoyed seeing her all fired up and flushed like this way too much.

He does, however, rescue the mask from her impatient shove, lifting it up out of her grasp. ]

Why wouldn't I have it? It's mine, after all. [ And he pauses to lift it momentarily over his face as he holds her gaze, watching for her reaction. ] And I have some very fond memories from that night.

[ Infuriatingly annoying are the two words that come to mind when she looks at him. The mask does little to dampen the sheer amusement rising off of him, and she can't quite decide if she wants to punch him or kiss him in an attempt to dispel that aura. On second thought, if experience has taught her anything it's that the latter would only result in more of what's annoying her.

Her eyes widen for a split second before narrowing at the not confession as heat flares up in her cheeks again at the mention of the night. She's acutely aware that she now finds herself torn between annoyance and something else she's been resolutely trying not to name. ]

You - [ Words lodge in her throat as she quickly decides to change gears. ] Like what?

[ He lowers the mask again at the question, but only so he can lean in those last few inches between them, hovering just in front of her. His fingertips slide back along her jaw, reminiscent of his touches that night.

He gives a quiet hum, his eyes darkening a shade as they hold her gaze. ]

Was I the only one who found it so memorable, then? [ He tsks’s his tongue softly in chiding. ] No, that can’t be it. I’m quite sure I left more of an impression than that. Otherwise you wouldn’t be dancing around this quite so stubbornly. What’s wrong, Hilda? It’s a little late to claim you didn’t enjoy yourself now. I definitely remember otherwise. Quite vividly, in fact.

[ Hilda goes stock still as Sylvain's fingertips trace along her tightened jaw and it takes everything in her power not to swallow thickly at his touch.

If she lets herself dwell on it any longer, she knows that she'd admit that she had hoped it had been him that night. But even admitting that much feels like a betrayal of some kind to a friend that she didn't even consider a friend anymore. And what's more, it brings a new feeling to light that she hadn't even realized had been there until she had unearthed the annoyance from earlier: worry. ]

You knew. [ She can't bring herself to admit what he already knows but her voice shakes all the same with a myriad of emotions. ] You knew and you didn't even say anything. [ Something sharp flares up in her eyes as she places two hands on his chest to firmly move him backwards. ] Were you just never going to say anything if I hadn't found the mask or said anything myself?

I suspected.

[ He corrects her succinctly as he reaches up to wrap long fingers around each of her wrists, capturing them in a warm grip. And not letting himself be moved from where he stood, still very much in her personal space.

It hadn’t just been a suspicion. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping she’d been exactly who he thought she was. ]

A suspicion you’ve now confirmed. Although I’m certainly not disappointed that my suspicions were correct, considering.

[ The noise of frustration comes out before she can stop herself. The desire to simultaneously pull away and stay right where she is tugs at her internally. Even if it was a suspicion much like the way hers had been, it does little to soothe anything that she's feeling.

Despite how her heart is hammering in her chest, her hackles are still very much up. Sylvain's added admission that he hadn't been disappointed that it was her only serves to further confuse her. There's already too much to try and untangle, never mind this new piece of information. The knot in her stomach feels unpleasantly heavy and she has to shut her eyes in an attempt to ground herself. ]

What do you mean you weren't disappointed?

[ His eyebrow arches upwards again as one corner of his lips twitches in amusement. He really shouldn’t look so amused. He suspects he’s one wrong word away from getting punched in the face. ]

Is there more than one interpretation of those words that I don’t know about? It means I wasn’t disappointed. Why? Did you think I would be? I’ve sort of given up the bad habit of doing things I know I’ll regret later. Mostly.

[ The drinking challenge with Shepard had been a notable exception. ]

[ He really shouldn't. When that's the sight she sees upon opening her eyes it only serves to flare her annoyance. ]

Of course you shouldn't have been disappointed –

[ Hilda catches herself, shutting her mouth so hard that her teeth click together. She chews on the inside of her cheek before letting out a heavy breath through her nose. ]

Not being disappointed means that you've thought about it and you shouldn't have. We shouldn't have.

[ His eyebrow stays lifted as he watches the reactions play out across her face. ]

I'm pretty sure I also haven't made a secret over the fact that I've thought about it quite a bit, in fact. Why shouldn't I have? Why shouldn't we have?

[ His questions almost prompt her to launch right into a jumbled explanation about just exactly why before she abruptly halts. Her brow furrows in confusion for a moment trying to recall a moment when that's been the case. Because as far as she can recall - Feywilds aside - that hasn't been the case.

Like he said, she's spent all this time avoiding him. There were others that could satisfy that and more for him. ]

When?

[ Patiently, he watches the jumbled conflict play out across her face, waiting to see what she will choose. ]

When what?

What -

[ Her brows furrow, a spark of annoyance cutting through her confusion. It's not so dissimilar to the annoyance he's probably seen on her face before when he does something incredibly stupid. ]

What do you mean, 'when what'?

[ The word is dropped into a lower octave of her voice as she does an impression of him. She 'tsks', some heat to her voice now as she tries to move him out of the way in an attempt to get to the door. ]

Never mind - if you're going to be like this, there's no conversation.

[ She shoves against his chest, but he was expecting that. It's why he doesn't get out of her way. In fact, he moves forward, starting to herd her further away from the door. ]

Have you forgotten our conversation back at the Inn? When you were in my bed, in my arms? The kiss we shared that night? I told you then, that I kissed you because I wanted to. That you mattered.

And after the night of the gala? I know you may be trying to forget that now considering you're still mad at our roommate-that-shall-not-be-named. I'm quite certain it came up again there, if you'd somehow forgotten my interest and appreciation the rest of the night. And trust me, I have thought about that night a lot.

[ Hilda side shuffles in time with Sylvain, trying in vain to slip by him. Sure, he's tall but he isn't built like as wide of a wall like Raphael or Balthus. Her cheeks puff up when it's clear he isn't going to make this easy for her.

A protest is halfway out her mouth when he starts rattling off instances that she had tried to convince herself were nothing more than flights of fancy in the moment for all parties involved. That's how she and Claude had always been, so why wouldn't it be the same for Sylvain? But perhaps that parallel is the whole reason that she begins to feel a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Immediately her brain tries to deflect, panic rising with annoyance resulting in a brief, mirthless and curiously nervous laugh. ]

I had a little too much to drink at the gala. And really, that had more to do with you and Claude – [ Because she can't bring herself to entertain the fact that she belonged somewhere in that picture. She didn't. Nor can she bring herself to address the night at the inn. Her next side step has her bumping directly into his chest and she lets out an annoyed sound before trying to side step away again. ] but like I was saying, we shouldn't have. I shouldn't have.

[ Briefly she wonders if she can duck between his legs. ]

I blurred lines where I shouldn't have - and can you stop cornering me like I'm some rabbit?

No.

[ His answer is succinct and sharp.

He might not be as big and broad as Raphael, but he still has plenty of muscle and he knows exactly how to use it. Not that he makes a habit of being intimidating, but he knows how to command attention when he needs to. Something he employs now, even as he reaches out to tip Hilda’s head back so he can catch and hold her gaze, his own expression serious. ]

There were three of us there that night, Hilda. And we were all involved in what happened. And I don’t have any regrets about that either.

[ His thumb strokes along her jaw as he holds her in place with a touch. ] You still haven’t answered my question. Why shouldn’t we have? Stop being a rabbit, Hilda. It doesn’t suit you.

I wouldn't be one if you weren't making me feel like one.

[ The snippy response comes unbidden, but his sharp refusal has its desired effect. The moment his thumb runs along her jaw, it freezes her in place much to her annoyance.

Several moments pass where she doesn't answer. Can't answer, because the words stick in her throat with uncertainty and nerves. Finally an answer makes its way past her lips albeit halting. ]

Because, you're both - you know. Together.

[ But she doesn't want to talk about Claude or anything remotely related to him. Unfortunately she knows that the answers Sylvain wants does involve him tangentially. ]

Why do you think I'm avoiding the loft?

[ Sylvain just gives her a slow blink, as if he needs to process that. A faint flicker of amusement flits through his gaze. ]

Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time? Hilda, I’m not sure what assumptions you’ve been making, but we’re not “together”. I mean, sometimes we’re together, but not in any way that should mean you have to avoid us. Hell, I also thought it had been pretty clear that night that we were both interested in you very much not avoiding us.

Edited 2023-07-17 05:30 (UTC)

[ All the time that she had spent with Sylvain up until she started her slow drift from the men aside, being this close means that it's impossible for her to not recognize the amused glimmer in his eyes. Which is interesting in and of itself because that's definitely not what she had seen in her idle observation of the pair of them. ]

Don't look at me like that.

[ She pushes his face away but not before there's a split second where her brow furrows, examining his face intently. Something is different. And then she sees it, a glint of familiar gold and green on his ear that gives her some pause. That's definitely a new addition to his usual wardrobe. The colour choice can't be a coincidence but there's too much for her brain to comprehend at the moment. As her eyes tear away from the earring, the expression on her face clearly implies that she doesn't believe him. ]

People change their minds.

[ It's said with a hint of bitterness before tugging her chin away from his grasp. ]

And it doesn't matter anyway. I told you I can't keep blurring lines because that's what got me into this situation in the first place. [ It's a startling amount of insight that surprises even her considering her stance on kisses just being a kisses unless you made something out of them. And unfortunately, she had inadvertently made something out of them. ] So thank you for confirming my own suspicions. And now that I know, what happened between us in the Feywilds shouldn't happen again. There, talk all done.

Edited 2023-07-17 07:08 (UTC)

[ He lets her push his face away, but something in her words snaps his gaze right back to hers. His gaze narrows slightly as his brow furrows and pieces that had made no sense for weeks start sliding into place. ]

Is that what happened with you and Claude? You blurred the lines?

[ Their talk is definitely not done. ]

It isn't the only reason. [ And then quickly she corrects herself – ] Actually, it isn't even the reason but probably didn't help things.

[ In spite of her admission it's hard for her not to feel defensive. Old habits from years of skirting around it made it difficult to not to react that way. She and Claude sleeping together isn't so secretive or taboo to admit now that their Academy days were behind them. Some of the Deer knew, or at least suspected, but they had always remained transparently coy and never outwardly confirmed anything. Hilda had never thought it was a problem or would be one until now.

Hilda wants to leave it at that but she knows that Sylvain won't let her. And after everything they had put him through he at least deserves to know the reason behind their fight. Her gaze purposely stays trained at a place on the floor, trying to keep a level tone and remove as much of the hurt that still festered under her skin. ]

I found something in his domain. Letters about after the war. And there were things in there that I had suspicions about but thought he'd tell me about eventually because we were supposed to be best friends and we told each other everything.

[ There's more of course. Hurtful things like how she had told him that their friends didn't want to be by his side during the war. That he had somehow played a hand in forcing them to be there instead of being there on their own volition. How his words implied that he thought that she was every bit the vapid, dumb flower she made herself out to be. Except she can't bring herself to say as much. ]

[ She might try to mask it, but he can still hear the hurt layered in her tone. Can feel it, aching and painful at the edge of his awareness.

He studies her for a moment before giving a quiet sigh and scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back over to his bed where he can sit and deposit her on his lap. Both of them need to start talking about this or its never going to get resolved. And as she’s the one at hand at the moment, he’ll start here. ]

So you fought, because the most notorious secret-keeper we know - save maybe Yuri - kept more secrets from you. [ He tugs a lock of her hair as he searches her face. ] Hilda, is there a chance he might have been keeping those secrets because you’re his best friend? Maybe he was trying to protect you. You and I… we haven’t been through the full war like he has. We don’t know what he’s seen, what he’s experienced.

And how do you know he wouldn’t have told you eventually? I’m pretty sure if there was anyone he would open up to about his secrets, it would be you. Maybe the right time hadn’t come up yet. Or maybe… maybe he was just afraid.

[ He’s pretty sure Claude wouldn’t appreciate that particular comment, but in some ways, Sylvain understands his methods and logic about some things all too well. And he can’t rule that out. ]

Edited 2023-07-17 20:38 (UTC)

[ When her feet begin to leave the ground, Hilda's first instinct is to flinch away. She had done such an awful job of committing to the things she had said she was going to do and it annoys her that her resolve is so weak. Being touched by Sylvain, nevermind held by him, feels counterproductive to that. But the brief hold is enough to nudge some of the tension she's been holding in her body since she had arrived back in the loft that day.

It does not however dispel the hurt and she can't bring herself to relax into Sylvain's lap. In fact, once he's seated she slips off onto the bed leaving space between them and refuses to meet his eyes even when he tugs at her hair. Reaching for empathy when she had been angry as she had at Claude also felt like conceding. The angry creature that had clawed its way up her throat hadn't cared what feelings were hurt in the process of its rampage. ]

I find it hard to believe that after seven months of being here he never found a good time to tell me. [ Briefly, anger flares in her voice. She'd never had a monopoly on his time, but they'd had moments alone together. They could have spoken about it then. ] And so what if we're not through the war yet? Isn't that what friends are there for? To share that burden? And don't we deserve to know?

[ The knowledge that both she and Sylvain had died in another timeline, that she could very well still meet the same fate should she return to Fodlan tomorrow hangs heavy in the air. Just because some version of her was still alive in Claude's timeline didn't mean that she would remain alive if she returned tomorrow. Talking about it only serves to dredge up remnants of the emotions that had never really left like hurt. Like jealousy. ]

Something was different between us. You know he didn't even contact me when you two were first taken? He contacted Petra first. Which is fine - she's capable and strong and could have found you two if it was just being lost in the desert but he didn't even contact me until later. And if it was him not wanting him to be my friend, he should have told me too. [ Her voice catches but she pushes on. ] I would have just lived somewhere else sooner.

[ He lets her spill out the words, because he suspects she needs to. he wonders if she’s vented this at all, since the day she and Claude had first fought. Bottling it up was doing neither of them any good.

But when she winds her way though all that hurt and comes up with, what he suspects, is completely the wrong answer, he just gives a heavy sigh and shakes his head. Reaching out, he grasps her chin between his fingers and turns her face towards him, not letting her tug away again. ]

Goddess only knows how you two got through your school years together, if you’re both always this stubbornly obtuse. There are a lot of things friends are for, and there are many ways we express that friendship. Loyalty, protectiveness, partnership.

If I thought the only thing he felt for you was friendship, then yes, I’d agree with you completely. However, when deeper feelings get involved, it tends to muddle things. And the more you care about a person, the more strongly you feel for them, the harder it is to wade your way through all that to what should be, to others, an obvious conclusion.

Which is why I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for not seeing it either, I suppose. But you two are both standing on either side of the same line, staring at each other and thinking you can’t have everything you want. Thinking that taking that last step that crosses it might end everything between you, when in fact, it would probably just destroy the line that neither of you want to keep there in the first place.

Obtuse - ?!

[ The word flares her annoyance, rubbing against the still raw wound Claude had made by calling her that. Her protest is cut short however as her chin is grasped and she's forced to look at Sylvain. It's apparent that what he's said has struck some kind of nerve even if that hasn't been his intention.

She had run through her argument with Claude so many times in her head like some sort of sick obsession, as if justifying why she was right would somehow soothe her hurt. What use was there talking about why they hadn't ever fought like this at the Academy? The only conclusion she could have come to was that he simply didn't have a need to be her friend anymore because this isn't Fodlan. Whatever weight she carried, if any, being Goneril's only daughter is null and void. What else did she have to offer him that couldn't be fulfilled by the man in front of her or the woman who had left? Talking about it wasn't making her feel better even if it was giving Sylvain the context he deserved for why they had been acting the way they had been towards one another.

Had she not been so deeply upset by it, everything he was saying might have sounded reasonable. Or mostly reasonable. The last thing she wants is to reasonably discuss Claude and their relationship especially when they had barely discussed what she and Sylvain had done. She can't help but wryly look at him before forcing his hand away. ]

It sounds like you're speaking from experience. But even if there were any line to begin with, we kept blurring it to the point where it's definitely gone now. He can barely stand to look at me, and I don't want to talk about it anymore.

[ She draws in a breath looking at a point somewhere near the ceiling trying keep her expression arranged in something that didn't resemble hurt. ]

I'm tired of being angry and sad all the time - it's not doing great things for my skin. [ Her attempt at levity falls flat and there's another beat before she alludes to why she hadn't been pleased when she had discovered it had been Sylvain behind the fox mask. ] I don't want the only other person from home to [ 'Abandon me' is on the tip of her tongue but even that seems dramatic for her tastes. ] think less of me.

[ His response to that statement is swift and succinct. He shifts, toppling her onto her back on his bed so he can crouch over her, his hands braced to either side of her head as he cages her in. Giving her no avenues left to evade him.

He hovers close overhead, close enough that he can feel her breath on his face as he holds her gaze. ] That is not something you have to worry about, sweetness. My opinion is not so easily swayed. I know who you are, Hilda. I happen to like who you are a great deal, exactly as you are. And so does you-know-who, when he's not being an asshole and blinded by his own hurt feelings.

[ His hand slides inward, brushing his thumb against her lips as his hand cradles against her jaw, the touch tender. He'd felt the way her hurt had flared and knew he'd tripped over something he hadn't intended with his words. He only hoped it hadn't closed her off to what he had to say entirely. ] I'm not going anywhere, Hilda. You can't get rid of me that easily. And I'm not going to lie about the fact that I enjoyed our night in the maze together very much. I hoped it was you. I wanted it to be you.

[ Her world view flips and for a minute she feels breathless as his face fills her field of vision. Hilda hadn't looked closely at him since the night of the masquerade and before that the night on the roof when she had found him trying to breathe; maybe she had been worried that what she'd see there were disgust at the person she had been towards Claude. He's dangerously close to her and she feels her cheeks flare up at the proximity.

It's not often she finds herself at a loss for words. There's always a quick quip on her lips, something to diffuse a situation or try and bring some levity but she can't find any words to fill the silence that follows what he says. Internally she grapples with his kind words and the earnest desire that they held. She wants to tell him that she enjoyed it too. Had hoped and wanted it to be him - but the words are caught in the teeth. Want is a desire she's familiar with; there had been no shortage of want that hadn't gone unanswered growing up whether it came to objects or whims. But it had become increasingly difficult when it came to her affections. Some part of her still grappled with wanting to be with and having deep care and feelings for more than one person, but more than that, she feared that the redhead would eventually change his mind too when he figured out she was as obtuse and unremarkable as Claude had implied.

Her eyes have to slide shut for a brief moment but her hands rise, slowly tracing the curves of his face. Even with her eyes closed she knew them well. She had been stupid not to admit that much to herself in the maze. Longing courses through her but she bottles it back down. When she speaks again its quiet, laced with that same hurt and longing coursing through her body. ]

But you shouldn't. I'm not anything like Claude.

[ He lets her touch, turns his face into it. Lips press kisses to each of her fingertips as he watches the emotions play out across her face. Pays attention to what she feels. He hates that there’s still so much hurt layered there, but he doesn’t miss the longing, either. ]

And why should you be? Whoever said you needed to be anyone other than yourself?

[ Her eyes remain resolutely closed, still worried that she'll cry if she does. There's nothing wrong with being herself, she thinks absently as his kisses send small sparks through her fingers and up her arms. She likes herself for the most part. Sure, she wishes that she didn't drool in her sleep, wanted her toes to have slightly bigger nail beds so she could use more nail polish, that she had less battle scars, that her whims weren't so flighty all the time and that she had stronger convictions instead of being so scared - but she generally liked herself.

But just because she liked herself, didn't mean that comparisons didn't happen. People were going to be different from one another - that's why they were so wonderful. But in that same astute observation, she still didn't think she measured up to someone born to shatter expectations. When she looked at them side by side it made sense. ]

Because if anyone is interested in Claude why would they be interested in me?

[ She doesn't intend to fish for compliments; it's a rhetoric question that she's already answered in her mind. She's great for a good time, but anything serious, anything more, would never make sense aside from the politics of it all. ]

[ The question has him pausing to stare down at her, because there’s something raw in her voice. And it’s a vulnerability he recognizes all too well.

He gives a soft huff of laughter, but the sound is more sad than humorous. Leaning forward, he rests his forehead against hers. ]

Sometimes I think you and I are far more alike than either of us are probably comfortable with. So let me turn it around on you, Hilda. If you’ve been so interested in Claude, how could you possibly want me?

What is that supposed to mean?

[ His question prompts her to splutter a mirthless laugh, shoving her hand lightly against his face in protest as she finally opens her eyes.

It's partly a stalling tactic as she searches his face. Confusion settles lightly atop her other myriad of feelings. Did he think that way about himself when it came to Claude too?

Knee jerk denials are on her lips, ready to fire off: she isn't interested in Claude. She doesn't want Sylvain like that, Both stem from the fear that admitting as much could break open the lock she had firmly placed on any possibility of something more with either of them. And it's for that reason that she offers up a weak answer one that is neither admission or denial of anything feelings. ]

Because that's different.

[ He just arches an eyebrow when she tries to shove his face away. But he's not about to budge. Not now. ]

It's not. I'm nothing like Claude, either. So either your excuse works or it doesn't. Tell me, Hilda. Be honest with me. Look me right in the eye. Tell me you're not interested. That you don't want me. Wouldn't.

[ You are, she thinks with a clarity and certainty of someone who knows – knew – Claude that well. She could write lists of how they're both wonderful, have overlapping qualities and qualities that would compliment the other. But what he said moments ago echoes in her mind: they more alike than either of them would be comfortable with. Would he even be receptive? Would he see himself the way she and Claude see him? The words don't make it past her lips.

Panic bubbles in her chest, flooding to the edges of her body as she's pressed for an answer that she doesn't want to give. Or maybe the better way to put it is that she's too afraid to give. Uncertainty creeps in, a fear of being seen for what she is and what she isn't, of expectations and impressions that he's made that aren't entirely true. She speaks without recklessly said without half of the conviction that she had used earlier when she had told him she thought he and Claude were alike. ]

I - [ Her voice catches in her throat, eyes only resting on his for the briefest of moments before looking away. ] don't want you like that.

[ Because I'm scared of what will happen if I say I am. Because if I do admit it, are you just going to turn me down? ]

[ For a moment, he's all too still above her, staring down at her, lips slightly parted on words that die a quick death on his tongue. For a moment, he gives a slow blink before he pulls back. Pulls away. Turning to perch on the edge of the bed again.

Turning so she wouldn't see how deeply that cut, left a wound in its wake that seeped an all-too-familiar pain. He takes a breath, relieved that he gets it in and out again without it shuddering. ]

I guess I asked for that.

[ His voice is light, laughing, but there's something hollow in it now. He rubs a hand over his face, struggling to drag his composure back into place. The mask it was safer to hide behind. ]

[ The moment the words leave her lips, Hilda feels like she's made an awful mistake. It's not unlike the feeling she had felt when she had told Claude that none of their friends were fighting by his side willingly. It was a lie; she had lied to Sylvain even though that was the one thing she had said she wouldn't do.

Her heart sinks into her chest as he leaves her field of vision and she's left staring at the ceiling, eyes misting like her body is telling her this is wrong. Her fingers clutch at the bedsheets under her as her mind reels back and forth about why she had just said what she'd said, and why Sylvain's voice sounded so devoid of any of its usual warmth. This was the right thing, wasn't it? In time, this would make he and Claude both happy. This way, he'd never realize how wrong he is about her.

Panic turns to shame, forcing her gaze away despite wanting nothing more than to reach out, to apologize. Instead she's quick to push herself up from the bed, rushing towards the door willing herself not to look back. ]

I think I should go. I'm sorry.

[ He doesn’t make a move to stop her this time. She’d successfully scraped over far too many of his own insecurities with that answer, leaving him feeling raw in the aftermath.

He felt stupid now, for expecting a different answer from her. For hoping that all those exchanges had meant something. The night of the gala, the night on the roof. The night in the maze. Even more foolish to forget the fundamental truths he’d lived most of his life by.

Wishful thinking, after all. He thought he’d cured himself of that a long time ago, but apparently not.

He lets her get to the door before he calls after her. His voice is low and solemn, but at least there’s nothing else in it to give him away. ]

Hilda. You can’t avoid him forever. Sooner or later you two are going to have to face this problem looming between you. And the longer you put it off the harder it will be.

[ He takes himself out of the equation this time. He didn’t have a place there, not really. ]

[ Several weeks after her not-date date with Claude, Hilda had been trying to adjust to the new normal.

New normal being acknowledging the fact that she and Claude both had feelings for one another (something that she still didn't know how to react to), that Claude had something with Sylvain (which is met with a mixture of both jealousy and happiness), and that she was trying to keep clearer boundaries with Sylvain so the same thing that had played out with Claude didn't happen with the red head.

And part of that, she knows needs to start with telling Sylvain plainly that she and Claude were okay now and were (sort of) figuring things out. Whatever that meant. She finds him that day tending to the herb garden. It's a warm autumn day than they had been expecting and she takes full advantage of it, donning a lighter linen dress with longer sleeves to hide her arms from view. A sunhat is in her hands - one of hers if the pink ribbon tied around it is any indication that is promptly placed atop his head.

From behind him he'll hear a click of her tongue. ]

You're out here again without a sun hat? Just because the season is changing doesn't stop sunburns for someone who has delicate skin like you.

I’m a little hardier than that, Princess. Kinda like a weed.

[ He doesn’t look up from his task as he works on weeding around one of his herbs, pruning away the dead leaves. But there’s amusement audible in his voice all the same.

It’s nice, he thinks, having her back in the Loft so often. He’d missed this. ]

Besides, I’ve decided hats are my archnemesis. They have it out for me. Hiding my pretty face away from the world. And the last time I wore one, crazy mushroom people tried to feed me to their weird tentacle-y tree altar, so I think we’re better off avoiding one another, me and hats.

[ It’s all said with mock seriousness, as if this was a perfectly reasonable line of logic on his part, even if he’s biting back laughter as his statement just gets more and more ridiculous. ]

Oh, please. I told you that hats can't hurt you. I don't think it's very fair to put that blame on them.

[ She rolls her eyes playfully behind him as she readjusts the ribbon on the hat. There's the telltale sound of a smile tucked into her voice. ]

This one doesn't hide your face and this shade of pink compliments your skin. Without getting too ahead of myself I think we might have a contender because this looks better on you than me.

[ Hilda remains hovering behind him, watching him as he works. Gardening just isn't something she's so inclined to assist with and had done everything in her power to avoid whenever she had been saddled with the task during the Academy. The dirt beneath her nails, the threat of bugs, the smell of fertilizer – all of it culminates in a less than ideal environment for someone with a delicate constitution like her. ]

Do you have much more to do? I can come back if you'd rather concentrate.

I highly doubt that. Pink will always look better on you. On me, it just looks like I'm blushing. Or that I just spent ten minutes getting my ass handed to me by Felix or Ingrid. But fine, I'll wear the hat. But if I get eaten by a tentacle-y mushroom god, I'm holding you responsible.

[ Pushing back from the garden bed, he rests back on his heels and glances over his shoulder at her to flash her a quick grin. There's a smudge of dirt over one of his eyebrows and there's a definite hint of freckles darkening over his cheeks from his time spent out in the sun. ]

You're not interrupting my concentration. I can talk and weed at the same time. I'm actually pretty adept at it. Besides, talking makes the work go quicker. Have a seat. Did you have something on your mind or were you just missing my mesmerizing company? [ He casts her a playful wink at that. ]

[ Perry's presence appears, conjured as easily as she breathes, to pull one of the chairs over for her. Before she sits down though she takes a step forward without thinking to lean down and rub the dirt from the spot on his face. Amusedly she can't help but think to herself that the hat wasn't the thing marring his face. She's not so close that she can feel his breath on her cheeks but it brings her close enough to catch the telltale sign of freckles beginning to form.

Freckles on her would be the end of the world but they somehow fit well on Sylvain, giving him a more boyish quality. Like he had been kissed by the sun and it wanted to make itself known. The faint prickle she's come to associate with envy stirs and she immediately brushes it off. To be jealous of the sun - both the glowing orb above and how she often equated their roommate to the sun - is silly. ]

There's nothing wrong with you blushing. My only complaint is that it's like a rare phenomenon that should be more common. Or maybe it is and it just isn't with me.

[ Jealousy and bitterness tries to colour what should be an otherwise carefree statement but she forces it out, her hand pulling back as she straightens up to drop herself into the chair. Readjusting her own hat begins next, part of it to ensure that she isn't going to leave this short balcony break with freckles and to still her hands from fidgeting. How was she supposed to begin this kind of conversation without just ripping the bandage right off? ]

A bit of both, actually. There's only so much conversation I can have with Khurshid.

[ The baby wyvern has long since settled into its new home. He looked more at ease in the loft than she did some days. ]

Nah, it’s pretty hard to make me blush. [ He casts her an easy grin as he falls back to sit on his ass, stretching his hands behind him to prop himself up. Might as well take a break for a few minutes, especially now that he had company.

He casts her a playful wink, eyes full of mischief. ] It probably has something to do with me being completely shameless. Very little’s left to blush over, then.

[ At the mention of the baby wyvern, his lips quirk faintly. He’s not quite as fond of the creatures as Hilda and Claude are, but even he could admit the little beast was pretty cute. When it wasn’t trying to bite his fingers off, anyway. ] At least you don’t have to worry about him interrupting you very often?

[ That particular statement is met with a cross between a laugh and a huff as she rolls her eyes. It's unfortunately a true one. For no lack of trying, she had done her best in the past to make the Faerghan blush. During the Academy it had become a game of sorts that she really only played with Dorothea.

They had to do something to pass the time and flirtatiously attempting to fluster people like Felix and Dedue had brought them endless hours of entertainment. Naturally Sylvain had been included in that although they kept him at a wider birth because of his attitude in the past and because he had proved somewhat difficult. The same had been true even after arriving here. ]

Very little still leaves room for something.

[ Not that she had a reason to try and find out what that included now because that would come too close to blurring lines. She'd leave all of that to Claude. There's the daintiest little sniff as she crosses her ankles much like how a lady would at court. ]

You're right. He's a very good listener and I don't ever have to repeat myself twice. Unlike some of my roommates in the loft.

[ There's no part of her that's actually being serious about that. It's just more fun to tease. And put off what she actually came here to tell him. ]

[ He’d been adjusting the hat as she spoke, shoving it back a little further on his head, which just ended up making the pink ribbon crooked and hang at an odd angle.

He really hated hats.

At her teasing comment, however, he blinks up at her innocently. ]

What did you say?

[ The cheeky response is met by Hilda's own blank stare before the iciest smile spreads thinly across her features. She hadn't dispelled Perry earlier. In fact, the magical apparition still lingered. Lingered behind Sylvain that is.

With a mighty force invisible hands force the hat firmly over Sylvain's head and briefly, into his line of sight. ][ It's clear that the unseen servant is doing anything but due to its mistress' bidding. After a moment though, the hat is pushed back so that it sits at an appropriate jaunty angle. The last thing to be put back into place is the ribbon. ]

There. Much better.

See? Now the hat’s possessed. I told you they have it in for me.

[ Before she can stop him, he yanks it playfully off his head and tosses it to the side.

Where it lands on the head of one of the stone statues they have scattered about the terrace, among all the greenery. His cheeky grin remains as he glances back to Hilda. ]

See? That’s much better. I could have called Khurshid out to eat it.

[ Even her own reflexes aren't fast enough to have Perry catch the hat that's tossed aside with reckless abandon. She lets out a gasp that is very much real and offended. Immediately she pushes herself up from her seat rushing over to the statue. Annoyance and a pout both bubble into her voice as she strains to reach her hat because of course it managed to land on one of the tallest statutes they had out here. Why did they even have tall statues out on the terrace? ]

He doesn't chew on hats he chews on socks!

[ Slippers in the loft had become commonplace and she hadn't bothered to put any shoes on as she had stepped outside leaving her barefoot now. Although even with heels she'd still have difficulty reaching for her slightly mangled hat. Her fingers brush the edge of the hat but to no avail. She'd strain further were it not for the fact that she's still trying to be somewhat gentle with her wounds. ]

This is one of my favourite hats! You could have flung it off the terrace. What are you doing, you brute?!

It was self-defense! It tried to eat my head. Again.

[ He’s well aware of the ridiculousness of that statement and his cheeky grin says that’s probably on purpose, even as he pushes to his feet to come up behind her.

He could easily reach for the hat, of course, but instead, he leaves it precisely where it is and scoops her carefully up into his arms instead, turning to carry her away from their now very fancy statue. He heads for the bench swing they have set up under the arbor, sinking down onto it with her on his lap instead. ]

There, much better. Now we’re both out of the sun and can’t be threatened by demon hats any longer.

[ Even though he’s now eyeing hers with speculation, as if considering giving it the same fate as his. ]

And that means you have to fling it off into the street?

[ It was relatively difficult to draw Hilda's ire but mistreating her clothes is certainly one way to fast track someone towards it. The tips of her toes are the only thing left on the concrete and the hat is just within her grasp when suddenly she feels the ground fall away from her. For a moment she thinks that he's about to lift her the rest of the way to retrieve her sunhat and is sorely mistaken. It slips through her fingers once again and she lets out a noise of disbelief as Sylvain carries her in the opposite direction.

Still annoyed by the turn of events she gives his chest a sharp prod with her finger while the other immediately presses her hat closer to her hair. ]

Oh, no you don't. I swear, Sylvain. I'm just trying to do something nice for you and you're being so difficult!

It’s not off in the street, it’s looking very fancy on Delores over there.

[ Did he just make up a name for the statue on the spot? He sure did. Don’t look at him like that.

Still, he’s still grinning down at her as they settle on the swing with her stretched sideways across his lap, his arms comfortably draped around her waist. It’s hard not to grin, with the look she’s giving him. She’s way too adorable when riled up. It’s really not fair.

Still he gives her a half-serious nod in response to her accusation and the jab to his chest. ] I seem to recall it being my job around here to be the difficult one. [ Claude would probably argue that, actually, and claim it for himself. ] But I’m done being difficult now. We can go back to playing nice now that my head is safe.

[ Even without having spent far more time with him here than she ever had in Fodlan, she would have to be completely oblivious to not see that he didn't seem to care one bit that she's several minutes away from tossing him to the other side of the terrace and maybe, accidentally, being the cause of a very bad physical injury.

That being said, she doesn't even miss a beat, accepting the fact that the statue now has a name. ]

Well Delores can get her own hat. It isn't meant for her.

[ That comes off far more petulant that she intends but her annoyance far outweighs any tone policing she might do otherwise. ]

It is your job but that doesn't mean that you have to be difficult to me. Be difficult to Claude!

[ She moves to swing her legs back onto the ground so she can retrieve her hat. What if an rogue gust of wind came out of nowhere? What if a bird swooped down and took it? All of those things seem more important than the topic she had come to speak to him about. ]

[ He catches her legs before she can swing them away, dragging her back more firmly onto his lap, even as he leans in to drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. ]

I can be equally difficult to you both. There’s more than enough of me to go around, after all.

[ It’s said lightly enough, but there’s a hint of knowing in his gaze as he remains hovering close to her face, and the upturned nose he’d just kissed. ]

Now. Are we done being distracted so you can tell me what you wanted to talk about?

[ Something that should absolutely be an exclamation of rage pushes past her lip at the sudden kiss to her nose were it not for the fact that the heat that rushes to her cheeks has a decidedly more embarrassed flavour.

All the same, the sudden kiss has her holding a hand to cover her nose and lips while the other hand finds purchase on his face in order to push it away in a fit of both embarrassment and indignation at being unable to go and retrieve her own damn hat.

Some of that may also have to do with the knowing glint in his eyes but she doesn't want to address that. It seems dangerously close to bordering on things that she is no where near prepared to discuss. Her voice comes out muffled as she glares at him. ]

I was once told that being focused and dedicated to one subject would show great results. I think your distracting efforts would be better directed towards Claude.

[ There's a beat before she realizes she's been spinning wildly off track, something that she can't even be certain is something she's doing subconsciously. Nerves bubble in her stomach again and the heat in her eyes dims somewhat. Why the nerves are there is beyond her. This is just a normal conversation about their mutual roommate that one of them is sleeping and might have feelings for if Hilda's astute observations are correct (Sylvain) while the other has no idea what to do about recent revelations (her).

It's cut and dry so long as she ignores the tight squeeze of her heart at the thought of the two men together. ]

Actually, that is something I wanted to talk to you about. Claude that is.

[ He might have teased her further if she hadn’t started to wilt over the fact that he’d circled the topic back around to whatever had brought her out her in the first place.

She’s fidgeting now and he can all but see the nerves churning up in her. Tucking a finger under her chin, he turns her face up towards him, his own gaze narrowing in suspicion. ]

What did the bastard do this time? Want me to beat him up for you?

[ Claude, you’d been doing so well. What now?! ]

Wha – no! He didn't do anything wrong.

[ Surprise flashes across her face, eyes widening and her hand falls from her mouth. So taken aback by the immediate declaration she doesn't even register precisely how funny it is that that had been Sylvain's first reaction to her mentioning wanting to speak about Claude, let alone if that reaction means anything more than a friend wanting to stick up for her.

His words momentarily manage to cut like a knife through the tension. Gives her enough momentum to quickly amend herself and work past the mountain of nerves. ]

We spoke when we were at the spa in Libertas and made up. [ There's a brief split second of hesitation wondering where the mental list points she'd had in mind before this talk had suddenly gone. ] We're trying to figure out what that means and where to go from here - not that I know what that even looks like because I'm not the one who plans anything to begin with so -

[ If she doesn't stop herself she'll ramble. In fact, she already is. Hilda stops herself immediately beginning to absently fidget with whatever ring she's wearing that day, gaze darting down to the gem that sparkles in the light. ]

What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry that you were caught in the middle of something that that I did and that I said things to you that I didn't mean to say. I was selfish for letting that happen in the first place. And I really don't deserve you as my - [ Her brain stutters for a moment, her heart protesting oddly at the word 'friend' even though that's exactly what they are. Pink patches bloom on her cheeks. She's quick to amend herself. ] in my life. I'm going to be better about supporting you two in the future because that's what you both deserve.

[ There's no point voicing doubts she has that it's something that "whatever this is" can even work with Claude. Not because of him or because of Sylvain but because of her. Not when the jealous monster lurks, biding it's time over her shoulder. ]

[ He listens as she blurts the words out, one eyebrow arching slightly as he digests what she’s telling him.

He’d picked up on the change - he knew them both too well to not notice the shift once again between them - but to have her lay it out like this gives him a moment to observe her in the telling of it at the same time.

Her admission raises about three dozen questions in his own head, but there’ll be time for that later. And if he cheats a little and listens to her emotions as well as her voice… well, what she doesn’t know she can’t hit him for. ]

Soooo. [ He drawls after a long moment of contemplation. ] No beating him up, then?

[ Nervousness wells up inside of her, reaching out to every limb and toe as she awaits his response or reaction. His silence encourages her hyperactive imagination, generating scenarios and reactions that are all more outlandish and ridiculous than the last. The arched eyebrow for example is easily turned into a pair of furrowed ones in her mind that become angrier and more furious for no rhyme or reason.

But when his answer finally arrives and time seems to speed up back to the present it has her blinking at him in confusion. In the myriad of scenarios she had conjured up in what had to be the last thirty second at most, she hadn't been expecting that. ]

...No?

[ She leans closer towards him, bewilderment spreading across her features as if that would reveal precisely whether or not he was trying to tease her again. ]

No, I just said we made up. And I apologized. To you. Aren't we going to talk about that? And you really don't have any questions except, "No beating him up, then?"

[ Over the course of her reply bewilderment fringes on mild incredulousness even as she does a startingly good impression of him. ]

[ There’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze as he takes in her bewildered expression.

He holds up a finger, starting to count off his answers to that string of questions. ] First of all, you’ve already apologized to me. Multiple times. And then promised to stop apologizing. Which you just broke, by the way, but I’ll forgive you this once.

Secondly, I sorta guessed that you and Claude had made up because you’re actually willingly in the loft again and hanging out for fun instead of avoiding this place - and us - like we all have the plague.

I’m not sure what reaction you expected from me about that, considering I’ve been the one trying to get you two to actually talk about this for weeks… months? Now. [ Which is when that amusement flares visibly in his gaze once more, lingering fully this time. ] Can I say ‘I told you so’ yet?

[ His response continues to send her for a loop. How is she supposed to react to that? Does she get annoyed at him because she feels like there's an oncoming storm of teasing on the horizon? Is she supposed to act surprised because he admitted to knowing something had changed even without the details of what that entailed? Worry because he doesn't seem to be reacting in a way that she thought he would (that thought however is quickly shot down because not everyone was a drama queen like she was), or does she get annoyed at him because he just told her so?

The last one. Definitely the last one.

Annoyance flares up in her eyes and her cheeks puff up as she swats his hand. ]

First of all, I don't remember making that promise. And I don't think it's very nice of you to be making fun of be because I was really nervous about telling you and you're just making fun of me. Again.

Two, you two do have the plague and it's called gross, dumb man germs. [ There's a little less venom in that teasing joke. ] You just both happen to be immune to them so you don't notice its effects. And third, no! Because who knows if this will even work out between us. There's other things we have to sort through. Like -

[ "Like how I have very complicated feelings towards the both of you being together," is on the tip of her tongue but she shuts her mouth before it manages to spill out. Instead she huffs and turns her gaze away from him instead and towards the statue wearing her hat. Pinpricks of annoyance and guilt build at the corner of her eyes. ]

No, you can't tell me that.

Too late.

[ He informs her of this cheerfully, not at all bothered by the way she puffs up like a puffer fish. He valiantly resists the urge to pinch her cheeks, because that's not gonna help his case here in the least. Even if it is really tempting.

Instead, he cradles her cheeks in both his palms, smiling down at her fondly. ]

What do you have to be nervous about, silly girl? Did you actually think I'd be upset about this? [ He might have somewhat complicated feelings about it, but that's all on him, not her, and he still can't even say he's upset. More... wondering if his expiration date has just been moved up quicker than he was expecting. Eh. He wasn't going to let himself worry about that yet. ]

Hilda. Listen to me. I'm glad you and Claude have finally patched things up. Relieved, even. It's been hell, watching you two tear yourselves apart because you were both missing a big chunk of your hearts. That man has been stupid in love with you since we were all at the Academy together, I'd wager. He needs you. And you need him. If you both are talking and trying to be on the same page again, then I have no doubt you'll figure out a way to make this work.

[ His thumb brushes lightly against her cheek as he holds her gaze, wanting her to understand he was serious. ] I can't be upset about this, because there's been a shadow in his eyes ever since you two fought, and it's only gotten darker in the days since. You two belong side by side and that's where I want to see you again.

So yes, I knew something had changed again between the two of you. I could see it when he smiled. And I can see it in the looks you two exchange. Or the ones you cast each other when you think the other one isn't paying attention. I'm not making fun of you, sweet, I swear, I'm just relieved that now maybe this place will stop feeling so heavy, so empty, without you. He missed you. I missed you.

[ A small petty part of her vows to make him regret saying that. That she would remember this moment and relish at a time in the future that she could turn those words right back around on him. Even with the misty eyes she’s blinking furiously in the hopes that it would dispel her exasperated tears, the quiet resolution burns in her gaze as he cradles her cheeks.

Met with his amused expression another whine of frustration comes from the back of her throat along with the urge to tear her gaze away again. Both are immediately quelled as he speaks.

It’s incredibly embarrassing being told, “I told you so,” again except this time with far less smugness and far more seriousness than before. The word “love” hadn’t passed between she and Claude that day in Libertas; she knew deep down that’s what she felt for him but a mix of stubbornness (she would not be the first one to say it because that feels like stroking an ego that already gives her grief) and fear kept her from saying so. They had both skirted around giving a name to their feelings. That felt like the safest option considering their decision to go slow and attempt to do all of the steps that they had skipped. A part of her still tempers her expectations, waiting for the day that they stop trying. Love can’t factor into that because it would make the failure sting.

It’s also embarrassing the way that her heart swells, not at Claude’s apparent forlorn behaviour without her in this loft, or the way that Sylvain describes the looks of affection allegedly passed between them. It’s the way Sylvain says he missed her. And it’s that that cracks open the damn of tears. Her face scrunches up as pink eyes well. Arms wrap around his neck as she buries her face in the crook of his neck so he can be spared how she looks when she’s crying.

There’s so much she wants to say. Like how she sick’s with envy over the person he’s become and changed into, the type of person she wishes she could be, the type of person she’s humbled to know. How sorry she is for being jealous about something that is good for the two people who had become her world. Her home. How, as greedy as she is, and as paradoxical as it may sound, a part of her almost hopes that it doesn’t work out with Claude so Sylvain can be happy because they fit better together than she thinks ever could.

Instead she settles for sobs and, ]

I missed you too.

[ He blinks when she suddenly bursts into tears and flings her arms around his neck, his own arms automatically coming to wrap around her as he tucks her closer to his chest. One hand comes up to stroke against the back of her hair while the other smooths along her spine, attempting to soothe her. Although with the way it feels like she's currently soaking his shoulder, he doesn't expect that to happen right away. ]

Hey, now. What's all this? I'm right here, sweetheart. You don't have to miss me anymore. I'm not going anywhere. I didn't mean to make you cry.

[ That last statement might hold the faintest bit of alarm in it, because he's never been good with girls in tears. The fact that it's Hilda only makes it all the worse. ]

What's wrong, Princess? Talk to me.

[ Somehow his words only seem to have the opposite effect, calling forth more tears and wracking her body.

An overactive imagination with a flair for dramatics does her a disservice now, calling forth worries that she would be left behind. In typical fanciful fashion, it doesn't stop there, spiraling further down a rabbit hole of reality that could be very real should she leave Abraxas for a timeline without him. Her grip tightens around him feeling like heart is being squeezed with so much pressure it could burst for reasons that she can't quite explain. Like the very thought of losing him in any way shape or form hurts more viscerally than thought it could. How someone who didn't care as much as Sylvain did would have been done with her behaviour long ago.

In her despair she hears the alarm in his voice. She's quick to shake her head into his shoulder trying her best to quell the rising guilt for being the cause. ]

Nothing. I just missed you so much.

[ She doesn’t pull back, and in fact, for a moment he thinks she might even start crying harder. At a loss for how to make this better, he just wraps more snugly about her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin atop it, tucking her in against his chest and cradling her there warmly. ]

I’m right here, sweet. I’m not going anywhere, not if I have a say in it, anyway. You’re breaking my heart here, Princess. You know how much I hate making girls cry.

[ Not that it had stopped him from doing it, of course, but Hilda had never - and would never - fall into that category. She had one all her own, after all. ]

Here. [ He fishes around in one of his pockets for a clean handkerchief and brings it up to her face in offering. ]

[ Her response only comes after she sniffles several times in quick succession in an attempt to catch her breath. The soothing quality of his hand against her spine does help ground her some, as does the familiar scent of him. Unbidden a thought flits through her mind: crying aside, she doesn't want to be apart from him . ]

You didn't make me cry.

[ Well he had, but not in the way that he might imply that he had. She looks up, face splotchy, red and running at his offer. All too aware of that she's quick to pluck the handkerchief from him. Burying her face into it, there's a dainty honk followed by burying her face into it. ]

You mean you don't want your shirt acting as a handkerchief?

I think we’re a little too late for that. [ There’s amusement layered in his voice as he reaches to slide a fingertip against a wet cheek, catching a stray tear she’d missed. ] But I don’t really mind.

[ When she’s done with the handkerchief, he cups her face in his hands once more, cradling it gently. ]

Feel better now?

[ Inadvertently she leans into his touch however light and brief it is. As if her realization has amplified the way she had missed him and now any small piece, any scrap he offered would begin to fill up the spaces her forced absence had created. ]

Don't say that. What if someone takes advantage of that?

[ There's reluctance to pull her face up from her handkerchief but the need to be close makes her acquiesce. She soaks in the warmth of his palms against her damp cheeks even though she feels the familiar guilt creep in at the edges. ]

A little. [ She sniffles, trying to bring some levity to this situation. ] I'd feel better if my hat wasn't on Delores' head.

Your hat is perfectly safe and sound and I’m sure Delores is appreciating being fashionable very much right now.

[ Yeah, he’s not retrieving that anytime soon. ]

And you’re the only one here to take advantage of me right now. [ He adds this with a playful wink, joining in on her attempt at levity. Tugging her close once more, he wraps his arms warmly around her, giving a soft, musical hum of amusement. ] Whatever will I do?

[ Her voice is nothing short of a whine as she attempts to wriggle then out of his grasp so she can go retrieve her hat before the wind can have its way with it. ]

Sylvain!

[ As soon as she tries, she's met with resistance in the form of his arms tightening around her. She lets out a noise of protest again. Despite knowing full well he's kidding she can't stand the thought of actually taking advantage of him. Her stomach curls at the thought. ]

You don't really think that I take advantage of you, do you?

[ He just keeps playing along, ignoring her protest.

Instead, he just gives a dismayed little sigh, sagging against her. ]

I guess not, unfortunately. I'll have to just keep hoping.

Edited 2023-10-23 00:00 (UTC)

[ Even if Sylvain had been putting his full weight on her, Hilda probably would have been able to handle it - and just as easily toss him off. Being able to handle it and wanting to handle it however are two different things. Letting another whine out, she crumples against the additional weight giving absolutely no support to his body despite the way her palms push against him. Who said she couldn't multitask being equally as dramatic while simultaneously being very concerned about this new possibility that she hadn't considered before?

Genuine concern coils together with cold dread in the pit of her stomach and she stills, pushing against him firmly this time with some force behind it. Claude and Sylvain not yet defining what they were along with Hilda being uncertain of how she would feel if they did decide to be together still makes her feel like her path forward with either of them is uncertain. If trying to be with Claude would be her inadvertently taking advantage of Sylvain she didn't want that. She didn't want to do that no matter the circumstances. ]

I'm serious. I never want to do that to anyone, especially people I care about.

[ He blinks, realizing she’d taken that the wrong way, which has him straightening up once more and letting his hands drop to catch her wrists in a warm grip as she shoves at him. ]

Sweetheart. I think we’re talking about two entirely separate things here. [ A finger slides under her chin, tipping her face towards him once more. ] Talk to me. What are you so afraid of? Trying to keep it buried or ignoring it isn’t going to do you any good. It’ll just fester under the surface. At least let me help you work through it with you?

[ Hilda realizes her mistake belatedly. Something already has festered, she thinks. Festered and clawed its way from her throat. The very thought drags lightly along her skin as a quiet reminder that her jealousy still remained and was unlikely to leave her any time soon despite recent revelations.

Sylvain's offer should have brought her comfort but instead her panic mounts. She shoves it the coil down, trying to pretend them away with a weak laugh. ]

Oops, were we? You were so convincing, Sylvain.

[ This isn't something she can completely backtrack from though she realizes. A dismissal like the one on her lips wouldn't be swept under the rug. ]

I've just...decided that I don't want to be a burden on people anymore. And taking advantage of people is what happens when I do too much of that.

[ His gaze narrows as she tries to laugh that off and his thumb and forefinger tighten against her chin for a moment as he narrows his gaze at her. ]

Don’t do that.

[ It’s not sharp, the chiding, but there is an edge to it, layered beneath the uncommonly serious tone he utters it in. ]

I can count on one hand the times I can recall you being exasperating enough that I would consider you taking advantage and almost all of them happened when we were back in school when you were busy foisting off your assigned chores on the closest available target. That was a long time ago, Hilda.

You are not a burden and I’m not even sure why you would think you are. In what ways do you think you’ve taken advantage of me here?

[ Inwardly she flinches. Sharp or not she still feels the edge to his voice, subconsciously hearing it after days spent together. There's some level of shame that rises in there too at the mention of her old habits - probably moreso than the time that Sylvain had specifically called her out. Her younger self had been more shameless, and far less concerned about what the Gautier hier playboy thought of her lazy tendencies.

Now however...

His question makes her shift uncomfortably as it edges closer and closer to a topic that she'd prefer to avoid airing out with him. Claude had been one thing and difficult enough to admit. Sylvain is completely uncharted territory and part of the reason she had her reservations about her and Claude. ]

You've been taking care of me since I got here. And been forgiving when you shouldn't have. You left me all of those sweet notes and made me those treats and took care of me when I was recovering. You cook for me when you really don't have to - if there's anyone you should be cooking for it should be Claude.

[ She winces, her next words coming out halting. ]

And we've kissed and in the Feywilds you - we - you should be focusing your energy on Claude.

[ He’s watching her with growing skepticism until she voices that last part and then understanding flares in amber eyes as he huffs out a breath that is half-exasperated-laugh and half-sigh. ]

That’s what this is about, then. Don’t worry, I’m still cooking for Claude, that’s not going to keep me from cooking for you, too, you realize. Or, here’s an idea, both of you. Since, last time I checked, you both need to eat and seemed to enjoy my cooking and it’s really no extra effort to feed two of you rather than just the one.

[ There’s a metaphor in there, but he’s not going to bother explaining it. He doubts she’d hear him anyway. ]

And trust me, I still recall our kiss - and everything else that happened - in the Feywilds quite vividly. And I still have zero regrets about any of it. I also seem to recall, before everything went to shit, the three of us sharing a hotel room quite comfortably and not just that, sharing a bed and - perhaps more importantly - sharing each other.

Is that option suddenly no longer on the table here? Because if not, I’d prefer you be up front with me about it now. Because if you don’t? I’m very much going to kiss you again. Probably many times. Maybe even corner you somewhere and have an encore of our little treat in the Feywilds. Because, sweetheart, I’m far from sated yet, you only gave me a taste.

[ Everything about that statement is no-nonsense and absolutely honest as he gazes at her intently, his eyes locked on her face, waiting for her reaction to that.

It’s definitely a far step from his typical charms and flirtations. But he’s just spent weeks watching her and Claude bleed each other dry because they couldn’t just say what they wanted. And while Claude… is his own complication right now, he’s pretty sure he has a better idea of where Hilda might stand.

…Or stood, maybe, before whatever this is with Claude started resolving itself. Now he’s back on unstable ground again. With both of them. Trying to figure out what his place is here.

Or if he even still has one. ]

Edited 2023-10-25 22:14 (UTC)

[ The metaphor does go over her head overridden by the multitude of other things being thrown at her at once. She'd be annoyed at his initial reaction and assumption that he knew what had been plaguing her this entire time if it weren't for the fact that she had just thrown just as much information at him seconds before. Annoyance blooms anyway - except most of it is directed at herself.

In an ideal world he would have simply agreed that she had been taking advantage of him all this time. He would have said nothing about wanting to be with her physically because he only cared to be with someone like Claude or Jesper like that. It would have been the path of least resistance, an absolution of sorts and would have made her still waffling decision about her and Claude easier in some ways. But Sylvain had done none of those things. Heat builds in her cheeks as each admission falls from his lips. There's no teasing, no flirtatious gaze. None of the usual signs telling her that this is a joke. No, this is the truth of how he feels. Of what he wants from her. As a look of uncertainty and shock settles on her face her mouth parts. ]

But –

[ A single syllable manages to stutter past her teeth. She shouldn't have ventured down this path in the first place. Why hadn't she just left it at that and claimed she was tired or hungry? Just because Sylvain is fine with wanting her like that and Claude was too to some degree didn't mean that she was. And hadn't that been part and parcel as part of the problem? Isn't that what she had been worried about and told Sylvain as much at least when it came to them?

His words replay back before it goes further still to the conversation when she had discovered he had been Lief. All of it compounded together sinks her heart a little lower than it had been before for a reason she can't understand. Despite the pink patches blooming on her cheeks, the shocked expression turns into something a little more resigned.]

Is that all you want? Just to be with me physically?

[ His serious expression remains, but there’s a hint of uncertainty that creeps into his gaze as he waits for her to respond - and then huffs out another of those breathy laughs when she just answers him with another question instead. ]

You realize this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, right? Although I’m pretty sure you were too drunk last time to remember any of it. You asked me that last time, too.

Physically is part of it, sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve made no secret about the fact that I want you. More of you. Or even just again. I don’t want you to think that was just idle flirting.

But further than that… I don’t know, Hilda. You tell me? I don’t know where you stand right now. What’s more important to you? Not blurring more lines and complicating things between us? Or seeing where this goes? Because this is uncharted territory for me here. I’m flying blind.

People don’t come to me for more that just physically, or if they do, it’s because they’ve got ulterior motives. And if anyone else had asked me that, my answer would be my typical one, and emphatic to boot. But you’re not like anyone else, and none of my rules ever apply to you like maybe they should.

You’re working things out with Claude, and I’m content with that, if that’s all you want it to be. I have no intention of interfering there at all, other than being a listening ear if either of you need it, or maybe kicking you both in the ass if you ever do something this stupid ever again. Only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see how in love you two are with each other. And have been for years. [ Yeah. Shade. He’s throwing it. ]

But as for you and me, Hilda? I don’t know. I don’t know where I stand. What you want. But you’re sober this time, so tell me. What do you want? If it’s just a fun fling, then fine, we’ll be up front and honest about it from the start and that’s all it will be. But if you want something different, you’re gonna have to be honest about that, too. Because I… I don’t really know how to do that.

[ The knee jerk reaction to interject is immediate. ]

What do you mean we've talked about this – ?

[ What feels like a cold, nervous sweat breaks at the back of her neck as he continues on. It's the same feeling she'd had when she had woken up naked in her bed after drinking herself silly and saying Goddess knew what to Sylvain that one summer's night. It isn't that she hadn't forgotten the morning after or even some of the parts of the hazy night prior to it. It's more like she hadn't thought to think further into what "talking about them" could have possibly entailed. There had been a number of reasons for it. Sylvain had offered few details, she had been too flustered by her state and the fact that he'd kissed her again after her steady resolve that that wouldn't happen, her own spiraling heartache, and of course, she had written it off as some sort of kindness that he was trying to show her after she had made a fool of herself several times over.

The last thing she had expected was for him to bring it up again. And yet.

Her mind stutters, suddenly unable to form sentences mostly because she has no idea what to say. What did she want with Sylvain? She knew what her body wanted, how it reacted to him, how she caught herself on more than one occasion admiring him from afar. But there was something else too. Faint somethings tugged at her heart that sometimes seemed too wistful and fleeting to make sense of because she stilled them as soon as they began for fear of what they could be. For fear of it feeding the jealous creature that had crawled its way out of her throat. She worries her bottom lip, nerves bubbling in her stomach, more pink brightening her cheeks. Instinct wants her to run in the other direction. She doesn't want to have another conversation about feelings, about what she wants, especially when that still shifts unsteadily from hour to hour.

Except she knows she can't run. The image of his hurt expression is burned into her brain and it's one that she had resolved that she would never be the cause of again. Surely being truthful with him can't be worse than what she had done before. When she finally does speak, it's quiet, sounding like someone who's torn her heart up thinking about this. ]

I don't know what I want either.

[ There's another pause, words tumbling over themselves in her mind. ]

I just know that you mean so much to me. And that I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life which I know is selfish because I'm so jealous thinking about you and Claude together. [ Shame begins to creep across her face and its heat creeps across her chest. ] All I want is for the both of you to be happy because you deserve it more than me, more than anyone else I know, but I feel so sick to my stomach thinking about you both together. I don't know if I can even be with Claude without feeling like this.

And if I think about us together - [ She falters, eyes flitting away but hand clutching his tight. ] if I think about us together I feel guilty. [ Understanding how that sounds she winces, quickly amending herself. ] I feel scared about what could happen if I ruin it. If I ruin us. I almost ruined my relationship with Claude because of how awful I was.

You, sweetheart, [ he contradicts her with a gentle chide, tapping her chin with his fingertips, ] deserve happiness as much as anyone. Maybe even moreso.

So let’s take this one thing at a time, alright? I’m not intending to go anywhere. You - both of you together and individually - mean far too much to me for me to walk away now. That’s the last thing I want. We’re all in this together, right?

And no offense to Claude, but I’m pretty sure he’s at least halfway responsible for whatever misunderstanding happened between you. What happened between you was both of your contributions, and then your reluctance to come out and talk about it afterwards. I’m pretty sure neither of you are gonna be likely to make a mistake like that again.

Not to mention, [ he adds wryly after a moment, one corner of his lips quirking faintly, although there’s the faintest hint of a shadow in his gaze. ] I’m far more likely to ruin things than you, when it comes down to it. It’s sort of how my luck runs, you know? Not that I plan on doing that, but…

[ It still felt inevitable, anyway. ]

But if you think for a moment either of us could be happy when you’re sad or miserable, you haven’t been paying very close attention to how much you mean to us.

[ While his words make her flush, there's still something she can't shake. Just like with Claude, she can't help but be surprised that there's no reaction - or rather that there's acceptance - from Sylvain when she admits her jealousy. There's no concern, no worry, no chiding that she wears this ugly emotion like a cold, sharp jewel against her throat. ]

I wouldn't be sad or miserable. I'd be fine...eventually.

[ The protest is only a bridge to the rest of what she wants to say because his non-issue feels akin to him glossing over something she thinks can't so easily be ignored. Despite him saying they're in this together (whatever 'this' is), she can't fathom taking this one step at a time when she doesn't have the first clue where to step. Not when there's an imposing mountain ahead of her that she can't possibly hope to climb. Not when she spots that shadow flit across his face like a cloud passing in front of the sun.

She gently shakes off his hand from her chin, cupping his face gently so she can brush her thumbs over the bones of his cheek as if that will send the cloud away. ]

I think you have more luck than you give yourself credit for. [ There's quiet conviction in her voice. Like if he wills it, why wouldn't it happen? ] You just have to give it room to grow.

[ There's a heaviness in her heart that shouldn't be there after being told that she's wanted. That he won't leave. It's so similar to the feeling she'd felt when Claude told her he'd had feelings for her. She hadn't known what to make of it then. She doesn't know now. Is it her fear of expectation and the subsequent disappointment they'd feel? Her fear of trying? Or a fear of what could be?

Resignation creeps into her gaze and her voice like she still believes this false truth she'd convinced herself of only a couple months before. Even if she's actively trying to be present in her feelings, to believe and rewrite a new reality, a part of her can't shake the old narrative. ]

There are some days where I still think you'd be happier with him. You're both so alike sometimes that it's annoying. You look so good beside one another. You fit each other well even if you don't think that or see it. [ She swallows, catching herself on a sharp edge of jealousy and doubt. ] And he doesn't get jealous or if he does it's not destructively like me.

...I just don't understand why the both of you are okay with that. What if this doesn't work? What if I lose you both? I'm trying to be better because I don't think I deserve either of you right now.

Edited 2023-10-28 08:00 (UTC)

Hilda. It’s not about deserving. It never is.

[ His voice turns quiet at that, and for a moment, his gaze goes distant, as he thinks of another conversation he’d had a long time ago, one that fills him with a pang of longing all over again. ]

Besides. What we think we deserve for ourselves would rarely match what others think we deserve for ourselves. For better or for worse, really. From where I stand, I think you and Claude deserve the chance to find your happiness, because it’s something you’ve both been chasing after for as long as I’ve known you. And as for what I think I deserve… I’m going to leave that unspoken because I think it would just make you mad at me again and I’d rather skip that part.

You say Claude and I are so much alike and maybe that’s true in some ways. But you and I are so much more alike in other ways, Hilda. I get it. We’re both afraid of failure, of people’s expectations of us, and not being able to meet them - and the fallout of that, for different reasons. But sometimes it affects our decisions so much that we end up standing there and going ‘well, why even try, then?’.

But the problem with that, sweetheart, is that then we gain nothing. And I think, by default, that means we’ve lost everything anyway.

Don’t assume Claude doesn’t get jealous, because I’m sure he does. He’s still human, Hilda. So am I, and I definitely get jealous. Emotions don’t listen to logic, they don’t follow rules, they just are. You can’t control them. Only what you do about them. Or maybe despite them.

[ He reaches out to brush a lock of hair back from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. ]

I want you, Hilda. I don’t know what that means, or what it encompasses yet, because we haven’t had time to figure that out. It’s different than Claude, but that doesn’t mean it’s less. Just different.

[ The dichotomy of wanting to be noticed in only the ways she had designed while simultaneously not wanting to be distinguishable at all is a constant push and pull for her. It’s no secret that she’s scared of expectation and by extension disappointment people but when her fears are laid bare, dragged out into the light, there’s no sweet, lazy veneer for her to hide behind.

It doesn’t escape her that she’s put them both up on some pedestal. Some shiny pretty things encased in a glass that she can shine and admire from behind the case but never hope to wear for anything more than dress up. But that’s where she thought they rightly belonged to stay. She’s no heir to a house, no prodigal child, a coward with a staunch disbelief in herself. There’s plenty of reasons for affection to be showered on them.

And yet there Sylvain is saying the contrary. Instinctively she leans into his light touch and her eyes flutter closed.

Her heart aches exposed and raw in her chest, overladen with want and yearning. With want of changing Sylvain’s mind — about himself or her, she can’t say. With want of showing him that he deserved everything and then some. For want of a possible future, of a possible something, that she’s still too scared to name. Her thumbs continue to brush against his cheekbones as a quiet exhalation leaves her lips. ]

I think I want you too. But I just need time. I don't want to ruin this by blurring lines or rushing into something before I know where I stand. I learned what that does and I don't trust myself not to repeat it.

[ Conviction slips into her voice, eyes rising to settle on his. ]

I know what you think you might deserve but I think you deserve the world. And I don't want to give you anything less than that.

[ He gives her a small smile, because he knows arguing with her here and now is pointless. There’s too much she doesn’t know - will never know, if he had any say in the matter. He has far too many skeletons shoved deep in his closets to ever be comfortable shining a light in. But there’s likely something in his expression that hints that he doesn’t quite believe her.

He believes she believes it? That’s gotta count for something, right? ]

I don’t intend to rush you, sweet. I know you’re worried about what will happen if things get more complicated. Frankly, I am a little, too. But don’t you worry about how much you can give me, if anything at all. This… has already been more than I ever anticipated, whatever comes next.

[ The only words in that whole thing that hold the deepest conviction, because it’s true. He’d known he was on borrowed time with both of them from the very start.

His fingers brush against her cheek again before he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. ]

Take your time in figuring out what you want. What you feel. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know… I guess that I’m okay with however far you want to take this. Or not at all, if that ends up being your decision. I’ll respect it.

[ Her heart clenches at that small smile. She's had enough brushes with his ingrained belief that he deserves nothing and nothing good at that to know that this too might be something to contend with eventually.

But that feels like several steps ahead of where they are and she knows despite this discomfort, this aching desire to want to tell him everything she can't convey into words, that it's where they need to be right now. And at least, she ruefully thinks herself, they're here together.

Hilda leans into his kiss, slipping her hands down the slope of his neck before nestling at the nape of his neck. More sentiments of her disbelief in her ability to make him happy, in the longevity of his want spin on an endless loop in her head. Miraculously none of them make it past her lips. Instead she stills them by pressing her own kiss to his forehead and the tip of his nose. ]

No matter what I decide – you'll always mean so much to me, Sylvain. Thank you for caring for me.

[ That… didn’t sound promising. But his face carefully keeps any disappointment from showing as he slides a hand against her spine, knowing she meant well.

It still sounded, in its own way, like a goodbye. And maybe it was.

Better to start bracing for that now, then.

Still, he manages a warm smile for her as she pulls back from dropping a kiss to the end of his nose. ]

You’re easy to care for. [ he offers instead, tugging a lock of her hair playfully. He’d meant it when he said he’d respect whatever decision she made, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel guilty for it. ] Now. I suppose we should go rescue your hat before I get myself into more trouble, hmm?

There's probably people who would think otherwise.

[ Deflection is easy to reach for, particularly when she already feels so much like a burden.

So is falling back on old habits, on levity, on joking and smiles instead of focusing on the heaviness that still sits in her heart. He's given a roll of her eyes as she stands up off his lap and motions for him to crouch so she can climb onto his back. ]

You're already in trouble but you'll be in more if you throw it over the ledge.

Edited 2023-10-28 21:14 (UTC)

I wouldn’t do that! [ …Probably. Maybe? ] Delores is just protecting it for you. And feeling pretty. I’d hate to deprive her.

[ But he obligingly boosts her up on his back to piggyback her across the terrace to retrieve her wayward hat. ]

You ready to go inside? I should probably get washed up before starting on dinner.

[ As she's lifted up, a hand drapes lazily over shoulder while the other goes to lightly hold her own hat in place on her head. ]

I wouldn't deprive her either but Delores can get her own hat.

[ Once the hat is back in her hands with no shenanigans or threat of it being thrown again, Hilda makes a show of contemplating having it rest on his head. Just as she's inches from doing so she settles it atop her other hat on her head and leans into him to give him a kiss on the cheek instead. Sylvain would be spared having to wear it again she supposed. At least he was spared today. ]

What were you going to make? Can I watch?

I hadn’t decided yet. Is they’re something you’re craving?

[ He casts a smile over his shoulder at her, boosting her a little higher on his back before abandoning the poor hatless Delores to head for the terrace doors. ]

Why don’t you look in the ice box and see if there’s anything that catches your fancy while I wash up, hmm?

I'll eat anything you make as long as we can go get a dessert after.

[ Once they're through the veranda doors she deposits her hats onto the hat stand by the door. Their new addition to the loft slumbers on a pillow near the window with the lizards nestled in the crook of the wyvern's tail. ]

Unless you're busy later and have plans. I guess I can go fend for myself for dessert with Veliki and Mali.

[ Even now she can't stop herself from playing the cautionary card. Not that her voice betrays any of that. ]

[ He grins as he gently lets her slide down his back to land on her feet once more before turning and tugging a log of her hair in affection once again. ]

Nope. No plans. Looks like I’m all yours for the evening. Flee while you can.

[ He casts her a playful wink before bending and brushing a kiss against the top of her head before turning to head back down the hall to where their bedrooms and bath are tucked away. He calls back over his shoulder as he goes. ]

Think about you want for dessert in the meantime, then. I’ll be right back.

Just don't complain if I make it too complicated!

[ As he retreats back towards his room she's left warm all over – from the kiss he had left at the top of her head down to her toes that are warmed by the patch of sunlight streaming through the windows to the lingering heat in her cheeks as a remnant from his words.

It's only once she hears the door click behind him that she lets out a breath. Her hands flutter to rest over her heart and she stares at the closed door taking in the way how quickly her heart races.

She lingers there a breath more, gripping the fabric of her dress lightly before pulling herself together to head towards the kitchen left alone again with her butterflies and her thoughts. ]

[ As a gift, Jesper leaves Sylvain this entire ensemble as a gift. ]

Love you, thank you for being in my life.
-Jesper

[ Much in the same way Sylvain dropped off her gifts, he'll discover a large, beautifully wrapped present on his bed. After he get his way through the complicated looking bow with its various fresh foliage and swathes of tissue paper, he'll be greeted with a plush toy of a familiar roommate. It's handmade with even stitches and has a small tag attached to it with Hilda's initials on it as a maker's mark. If he looks behind the plushie's ears, he'll notice that there are tiny buttons to add silly little sideburns if he wished. It lies on a bed of a dark green fabric which when unfurled, is a scarf, soft to the touch but incredibly warm. The lined pattern on the scarf has thinner threads of gold and pink flanking the light green.

The second half of the present can be found underneath a layer of tissue. What awaits him is a pair of handstitched riding boots. They're a dark wine full grain leather, with punched details and comes with a boot care kit. Naturally it comes with a note on handwritten paper with small wildflowers embedded and pressed into it. It smells faintly of Hilda's perfume. ]

𝘚𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘪𝘯,

𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘍𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘌𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵! 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴. 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘧 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭. 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘹𝘹 𝘏𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘢

Edited (WOW TYPOS!! ) 2023-12-19 19:33 (UTC)

[ The moment the opportunity to return to the islands has surfaced, Hilda had been keeping a quiet, almost tentative eye on Sylvain and Claude. Whereas Claude hadn't brought up much of the experience at all, Sylvain had at least spoke about it in passing. Using that to piece together what other friends had gone through in the pit and her own visit after the fact in the recovery efforts, Hilda had a fairly clear picture of those held closest to heart had gone through.

Breaching the subject is another matter however. It's in Hilda's nature to skirt around the not so cheerful topics in life. In part, it's for her own protection – ignorance was bliss for her. The other part of her however, the one with the more serious answer, is that if she did bring it up, she didn't know how she'd possibly help them soothe the wounds the cultists had left behind. The easy answer is simply never bringing it up in the hopes that someone else would. But that didn't feel right either. Because if she didn't bother, if she didn't try, then what was the point in staying by either Claude or Sylvain's side? That being said, she still had to find a way to build her bravery.

December comes and goes. January arrives in a flurry of activity that brings more gloom in the aftermath of their efforts on the island. It keeps all three of them busy and there's some nights where she doesn't see either of them. She knows this can't be easy for either of them - or rather hasn't been if any of her observations are anything to go off of. But then she formulates a plan. Granted it's not necessarily an original plan (Sylvain was the one that started it first) nor does it have any other goal than trying to keep his spirits up – but she has to start somewhere.

Notes follow him wherever he goes. Or rather, that's the impression he might get. Folded up birds, little paper lanterns, hearts, stars, flowers, a mouse, a cat, a fox can be found every day in obvious places like his pillow when he returns in the evening, his coat pockets, the kitchen, amongst the plants he's using to grow his tea ingredients, tucked into the saddle of whatever horse he chooses to ride the day he visits the stables, his bag. There's nothing special about them at first, no words to accompany them. Sometimes there's the occasional silly doodle of whatever the papercraft is giving him words of encouragement or silly, flirty phrases. But eventually the corresponds begin.

Today's note comes in the shape of a paper airplane that she probably learned how to make thanks to the Doctor. It floats gracefully through the air to wherever he is, smacking gently into the side of his face to get his attention. Read me! is written in neat script on it. Somewhere behind him there's the briefest flutter of a giggle and the sound of receding footsteps but when he turns around no one is there. If he opens the note he'll read: ]

𝘔𝘳. 𝘎𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘳,

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 "𝘧𝘭𝘺" 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴? 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴! 𝘌𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘖𝘭𝘥 𝘗𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮.

𝘐 𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘎𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘭 𝘹𝘹

[ Below her signature is a drawing of two foxes at a table happily dining on some food. ]

Edited (I found many typos please don't perceive me) 2024-01-13 08:37 (UTC)

[ As he’d very insistently dragged her along as his +1 that night, despite all her protests to the contrary, he doesn’t leave her a note in return. But as each one she’d left him had brought a smile to her lips, later that week, she’ll find a single pink rose in perfect bloom left on her pillow beside a rose-scented candle wrapped in a ribbon.

Wrapped around the rose’s stem is a narrow strip of paper, since he doesn’t quite have her talent for paper art. But he had played around with some words and leaves them for her in a carefully penned hand.

The surest escape from the pit of despair
Is to cradle a person and tell them you care
So drop your defenses
And heighten your senses
So the next breath you take will be one that you share.

A few days later, it’s a small confectioner’s box of cupcakes with pink icing. There’s a little doodle of a fox with a rose in his mouth and a bow wrapped around one ear on the lid of the box, with the simple message of:

Sweets for my sweet.

And just before the weekend, when she arrives home, it’s to find the tub filled with steaming water and softly scented suds, the room lit aglow with soft candlelight and a thick, plush towel and robe waiting for her. This time, there’s a little plush fox seated on a stool with a note cupped in it’s paws and a bottle of wine and a single glass waiting beside it, with only the words:

You deserve a little pampering. Sorry there’s no mud. ]

[ When she had embarked on this quest to keep his spirits up, Hilda hadn't expected small gifts in return. But finding the rose, the candle, and the box of sweets bring a fond smile to her face every time and is so Sylvain of him to do. By the time she stumbles upon the drawn bath and the stuffed fox, her heart swells in an unexpected way. Despite the accompanying note being short and sweet, she reads it several times over with pink cheeks and soft eyes and the fox plushie held close to her. After a moment she turns on her heel to go in search of another glass and Sylvain in the hopes that he might join her in the tub.

From that point on the fox plushie becomes a bit of a messenger so to speak, accompanying her notes wherever and whenever it becomes appropriate. The day that business takes her away to Aquila overnight, he'll find the fox with an accompanying nightcap that seems handmade seated on his pillow with the note stuck to his belly:

You've been working hard. Get to bed early tonight!

Before he sets out for the start of his day, he'll find a note in the shape of a bunny and a bottle sun cream on top his bathroom sink that reads:

Just because it's winter doesn't mean the sun can't burn you! Don't forget to apply some of this to your face.

A little illustration of a fox with sun cream on its nose and some sunglasses also accompanies the note.

Another day, he'll find the fox perched in the kitchen by his teas, holding a brand new tin. The accompanying note reads:

Straight from the Solvunn tea festival to kickstart your day.

Another bunny note stuck to the tin has instructions for the tea preparation but at the very end Hilda has added:

Or best served however you like. I've never had a cup of tea better than yours. They taste like care and love. They taste like magic.

The morning after that he'll find four rabbit-shaped notes stuck to the bathroom mirror. Drawn on them are several illustrations of a little rabbit with a pink bow between its ears and a fox in a meadow. One image shows the bunny rolled onto its back laughing at the fox as it pulls a silly face, tongue out playfully as its tail wags. Another scene shows the fox pouting as it dons a silly hat. The bunny is doubled over giggling. The last scene is of the fox trying to catch a goose while the little bunny cheers him on, gleefully laughing. ]

I love the way you make me laugh at you.

Edited (added a thing ) 2024-01-20 08:58 (UTC)

[ One morning in December after Claude's slipped out of bed to leave its slumbering occupant(s) behind, some packages will appear at the foot of Sylvain's bed. They've been carefully placed enough to not be in the usual path the other might stumble upon while half awake, but not so far out of the way for their bright wrapping paper in teals and a particular fire red to go completely unnoticed.

A long flat box roughly the side of a desk mat will reveal a familiar sort of box for holding teas with designs carved into the top and sides. When Sylvain lifts the lid, it won't be tea he finds inside. Rather, it's bundles of seeds in each individual space, all carefully labeled with their names on the front of each tag with their names: flowers meant to be dried for teas, leafy herbs that can be used fresh or saved for later for cooking, and a handful of others good for all around purposes. The back of each tag has a short description of their uses around the Free Cities and Abraxas on each, too.

The larger package next to it contains a scale with wood to match the box, carved marble elements, and gold metal accents. A drawer on the side contains a variety of weights, including enchanted ones to assist with and make it much easier to weigh very light ingredients that might not otherwise register on the scale.

Finally, the small basket beside it all contains bottles of weapon oils, hand oils meant to ward off some of the desert dryness, and maybe a bottle of massage oil or two for whoever and whenever Sylvain might like to use them. Wrapped up also are two pairs of gloves, one that's thicker leather best for whatever might be lurking out in the desert and the other a finer leather lined with werewolf fur he'd picked up in Nocwich, and ones meant to stave off the cold. Or what their new owner might consider cold - same difference. Atop it all is an envelope with Sylvain's name on it, and inside is a letter:

Sylvain—

We've passed another year of this holiday here, and I'd like to think I was a little better prepared for it this time around. What's here is only a sliver of what you deserve, even if you immediately come to find me to tell me this is too much. It's not, and it's the least of what I can do for all that you've done. I'll repeat that as many times as it takes for you to really hear it.

My hope is that you may be able to use some of this to continue with what you've started, and to put them to good use doing things you enjoy. They aren't the only ways I plan to support you in that, but perhaps for the times when I can't be standing there at your side they'll be a reminder that I'm there all the same. That you're never here alone, and that there's someone here who believes in you for who you are - all of it, no matter what.

—Claude.

In addition to that, when Sylvain heads out to the greenhouse he'll find his tools all neatly arranged just where he likes them, the watering cans filled and ready to go, and a vase with a vibrantly blooming desert flower waiting upon his usual workbench. Just because. ]

[ The fifth day of the sixth month arrives and with it comes one very important day. The birthday boy should be allowed to sleep in on his own birthday, of course, so Sylvain will wake up with his sleep (probably) undisturbed to find several things waiting for him. On the edge of the nightstand is a mug of one of his favorite teas waiting on a coaster enchanted to keep it just the right temperature to not spoil the tea or risk any burns to someone still half-asleep. Next to it is a small assortment of presents.

Inside a small carved wooden box is a lion carved from one solid piece of marble-like stone where when turned to catch the light glints gold, a possible nod to what Sylvain had once called his godly form and the Lions from where he'd once called home. Behind it is a cup with a sheet of decorative parchment curled inside with a ribbon tied around it and another envelope propped in front of it. The parchment's rolled around tickets to a play dated in the near future where it might be noted the seats are in a decidedly fancy row of seating. Beneath the tickets is a certificate of sorts for a nearby spa with the amount being listed as for a massage plus any extras Sylvain might like to add. And as for the cup itself? Also enchanted but this time to keep whatever drink inside completely cold without needing constant refills of ice - perfect for that upcoming summer weather.

The envelope, of course, contains a letter:

Happy birthday, Sylvain—

How's it feel to be old? I know, I know - it's only a year older and only for a little while, but you'd better believe for the next month or so I'm going to get in all the jokes about you being elderly that I can. I look forward to your gratuitous eye rolling after each and every one.

It feels strange to remark now on it being another year which has passed by when we've just quasi-lived so many of them, for better and for worse. But there is one thing I know no matter how many go by, and it's this: that you make my life far better by being in it than without. You're a steadying force and a bright light to all who know you no matter what. To have been able to spend another year at your side is a gift in and of itself that even I can't find the right words to describe when they all fall so short.

Which is all the more reason to show as much appreciation as I can by giving you a chance to spoil yourself with a few things meant to be enjoyed, including a chess game rather like the one we invented last year. I'll let it be in your favor just this once.

Yours,
—Claude.

PS: The spa trip is for you only - promise no mud whatsoever is involved unless that's what you're looking for.

Of course while he might have woken up semi-alone, Sylvain certainly won't stay that way for long. As soon as there's signs of life from the room, he'll be joined by Claude with a tray of pastries to go with that tea. Never mind him claiming that he made all of it himself. He totally did. ]

[ Whenever it is Sylvain rolls out of bed and physically out of his room he'll feel the soft weight of something atop his head and might accidentally hit a banner placed strategically at eye-level on his way out. It won't be long before he realizes that the weight on his head is none other than a hat with a little carton fox atop a galloping horse that runs in and out of the fake candles that faintly glow. 'Happy birthday' is written jauntily on the hat, its bright colours loud but nonetheless complimenting one another.

As for the banner? Well that just says 'Happy Birthday, Sylvain!' with a number of the loft's critters holding the balloons that each letter is encased in.

One of the leoslyphs will eventually fly over with a card in its mouth. Inside the impeccably handmade card (it's a lion's head that when opened, lets out a little 'roar!') is a small booklet of what looks like handmade coupons, and a note. ]

Happy birthday, Sylvain!

As the Doctor likes to put it, another lap around the sun has finally started again. I know we'll never know what to expect with Abraxas, but the one certainty I do have is that you'll be there. Thanks to you, Abraxas is starting to feel a little more like home every day (but really, if we ended up anywhere I think that would be the case because a home isn't a place, but a person). I only hope that we'll be able to return everything you give to us in spades.

Don't use those coupons too quickly! Once they're gone, they're gone. Or I can just make more. It's really up to you and you like breaking the rules anyway.

xx Hilda

[ The coupon book is as it sounds and is actually quite thick alluding to the fact that it might be difficult to use them all up at once. Instead of deals on items however, it's an assortment of acts and services like: 'Good for 10 kisses in a row from a Deer of your choice', 'Redeem for a meal made by Hilda', 'A private cooking class for 2' (and in script beneath this one: 'Maybe this would be something good to take Claude to?'), 'Get out of chores you don't want to do for one whole week - no complaints from Hilda allowed!', 'Ask Hilda to return your library books - also with no complaining', 'Receive five back massages and get a special surprise for your sixth one!* (*The surprise has been pre-determined and the Birthday Boy does not get a say in what it is)'.

Whenever he does make his way out of the hallway, he'll find Hilda busy putting the finishing touches on dishes of his favourite things in the kitchen. ]

Hi I was arrested.

Save your kisses for me.

...

......

Please tell me you're joking.

I'm not. I blew up a military base. Ha ha!

...

[ Jesper, what the actual fuck. ]

Got bored of playing with bandits, did you?

Okay, with all seriousness, we spotted armor in the Badlands that was clearly ripped off of one of those dangerous rift monsters. The one with all the technology. We knew that the government probably had it. The new armor has some of its tech, it could shoot out explosives. Very dangerous if made into an army, we became concerned.

Steve and I found the base where they were making the prototype and we destroyed it. They'll probably be able to make them again someday, but it's slowed for now.

Wait, you and Steve went in alone??

Well, I'm not thrilled about you being in jail over this, but I can't blame you for taking action. It sounds like it's something that needed dealt with.

I can't do much, but I can send Claude and Hilda to talk to the authorities? They've got the influence to maybe make a difference?

[ He's never really sought that reputation, and this is the first time he's regretting his lack of influence in the politics of this faction. ]

It was stealthy, we didn't want too many people. It was a piece of cake but the getting out part ended up being spotty.

Sam already stepped in and got us a better sentence.

But they figured out about what I can do. So. They've finally caught me and gave me a choice to work for them.

That doesn't sound like much of a 'choice', babe.

[ Does he need to set people on fire? He's willing to set people on fire. ]

It's phrased as a choice, they said they won't make me enlist, but they offered to pay me for being a contractor and making things for them. Not really sure what I'm going to do yet. I don't mind making corecloth for the soldiers, but also, fuck them, so.

I guess if it's a choice between this and being enlisted/conscripted, this is a better option. But I know how you feel about the military here.

Are you sure you're alright with this?

[ He doesn't know what he could help do or organize to get Jesper out of this, but he would think of something if Jesper really was trapped right now. ]

I don't think I have another option. At least this way I'll be rich.

I didn't think that mattered to you.

Of course it matters, I provide for both Kaz and myself. I used to provide for Wylan and Inej too. Plus I buy presents for everyone and rooms at Nocwich every month. Coin's necessary. I grew up poor. Plus I want to be richer than Jaskier because it would be funny.

I'll just pretend I know how rich that is and nod agreeably, then.

Do you need help?

[ He and Claude and Hilda had been pooling resources for so long now it hadn't occurred to him. But this was Jesper. ]

No, baby, I have money, I just wouldn't say no to MORE money.

From them. Not from you.

Edited 2024-10-25 01:54 (UTC)

Please tell me you're still here.

[ Considering a portal had apparently just eaten his other two lovers... ]

Jesper? I'm in Cadens, yeah. Are you? Are you alright?

Claude and Hilda... aren't.

[ And he's freaking the fuck out. ]

Yeah I'm still here, I'm alright. Mat's here, we've set him up at the loft.

I heard about Claude but not Hilda, fuck. You stay there, I'll come to you.

She's in Solvunn. With the goats. And really not happy about it.

Claude's in Thorne.

[ Which, in Sylvain's opinion is so much worse. ]

Well at least there's a good gang in Solvunn who can look out for her, she'll just have to live without fashion for a bit. I'm pretty sure they're not even farm chic.

I know. I am going to lose it if they don't give him back to us. Though that would mean sending Mat back. I don't like either options.

Well. Look on the bright side.

The longer they keep Claude, the more chance there is of him starting a revolution and overthrowing the whole damned country.

It's a particular skill of his apparently.

I'd love that except Sidwell seems like a piece of shite so he might very well toss him in jail.

Claude's dealt with worse. He's too slippery for Sidwell.

I hope so. I wish I could burn that damn place to the ground, I would probably end up in the cells myself if I ended up there. It would be the perfect time to make him pay.

[ Yes he would assassinate the king. What about it? ]

Can we avoid getting arrested right now? I think things are a mess enough.

Well I can't actually assassinate the king from here, luckily. So I won't be arrested. Let's face it, if I did, the Free Cities would give me a medal.

I'm pretty sure half of Thorne would too, from what I know of them. Nott, at the very least.

Still. I'm really glad you're still here, at least.

I'm glad too, love. Why don't you come over to the room? It'd be good for you to be around friends here, yeah?

[ There's a faint hesitation before his answer comes through. ]

I'll be okay. It sounds like you've got your hands full already. Did Kaz make it back safe, at least?

And I want my hands to be full of you, come here.

Kaz is fine, yes.

Bossy.

[ But the words do make him smile all the same. ]

Fine. I'll be over in a bit. If you're sure? You really don't need to worry about me, love. I'm the one safely where he's supposed to be, after all.

Sylvain don't make me say it again, get your fine ass over here.

You shouldn't give me fun challenges like that. makes me want to say no just to see what you'll do.

I'll come carry your fine ass back.

Well, that wasn't as kinky as I was anticipating, but I'll take it.

I'll be over soon, love. Promise.

Come into my skinny arms with your gigantic torso so I can kiss you.

Love. We really gotta talk about your bedroom lines.

My bedroom lines have literally always worked on you.

That had absolutely nothing to do with the lines and everything to do with how pretty you are.

You think my bad lines are hot, proven fact. Come kiss me and I'll whisper the worst ones at you.

Inbox: Abraxas

check in during the supply run

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Continuation - NSFW

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