Chapter Text
Sylvain stared out across the calm water of the cove, the warmth comforting as the waves lapped at his ankles. The breeze was soft, pleasant even, as it brushed across his face and through his hair. There wasn’t even a cloud in the sky, which was left open and blue and lovely. There was something achingly nostalgic about it.
He hummed softly as he bent, his fingers deftly rolling up his pant legs up as far as they would go. Like this, he could step into the water without worry—at least until it reached his knees.
A part of him wondered what would happen if he just swam into the sea. If he just started swimming as far as his arms would take him. Would his knights pursue him, only to be stalled as their armor became too heavy to move in the water? Would his people begin to panic over a maddened king—so desperate to escape his duty that he surrendered to the waves? Or would—
He yelped as his world began to spin—landing flat on his back as his knees were knocked out from under him. He was entirely soaked—his attempt to stay dry entirely hopeless—and his expression pinched as seawater lingered on his tongue. He couldn’t get his head above the water quickly enough—his gasp utterly undignified when he was finally able to fill his lungs.
He couldn’t even enjoy that, either—too soon was a heavy weight nestled between his legs, firm arms settled possessively at his sides.
“You ass,” Sylvain hissed, wrapping his arms around Felix’s neck to lift himself more from the water. The water had been pleasant around his legs—it was cold now.
Felix laughed, the sound a low and entrancing rumble. A small smirk played on his lips, looking utterly pleased with himself.
“Real cute,” Sylvain grumbled, shifting so he could use one arm to try and pluck his soaking clothes from his skin. But there was no use—they were so wet that they clung to him stubbornly. “There’s no way you’re getting a kiss after that. I’m going to get an earful for this mess.”
Felix hummed softly, his lips brushing against Sylvain’s jaw. “You’re insatiable. You won’t be able to help yourself.”
Sylvain frowned, pressing his lips tightly together to do his best to ignore the way Felix’s lips brushed along his throat. He could feel the rumble of Felix’s self-satisfied hum everywhere they touched.
“Look who’s talking,” Sylvain said instead, biting back a noise as Felix nipped at his collarbone.
Felix pulled away, shifting so his lips ghosted Sylvain’s. “I could stop.”
Oh, this wasn’t fair. Sylvain could only count on one hand the amount of times he had used this against Felix—and for that brat to be such a quick learner was nearly infuriating. Nearly.
But Felix had given in more often than Sylvain. So Sylvain could indulge him—just this once. He caught Felix’s chin between his fingers, pulling him into a consuming kiss.
It was too easy to lose himself in the taste of Felix on his tongue, in the sound of the small noises Felix made whenever they kissed, in the feel of those sharp teeth as they brushed against Sylvain’s lips. Part of this need, he knew, was because of time—it had been only a week since he’d last seen his merman, but it seemed so much more difficult (especially compared to before) since Felix was his. It was like getting a lungful of air after a week of gasping to barely get by.
Felix pulled away—far more sensible about Sylvain’s need for air than Sylvain was. His smirk was utterly insufferable as he watched Sylvain pant to catch his breath, the bastard himself entirely unfazed.
Sylvain groaned, his breath not returning nearly soon enough. He pressed his face to Felix’s shoulder, at least enjoying the closeness if he couldn’t enjoy kissing him.
It was here that he realized Felix’s fingers were brushing against his skin, most notably along the scars that lined his back. Even with the mer-healing and the healing back home, it couldn’t undo what had settled while Sylvain had fervently searched for Felix. But it was fine. It was just a badge of honor—of everything he had done to prove his dedication and desire.
“That feels nice,” Sylvain whispered, pressing a kiss to Felix’s collarbone.
Felix hummed, his thumb brushing along a spot that still was sensitive on cold days. “You’re still an idiot.”
Sylvain smiled, tilting his head so he could trail kisses along Felix’s shoulder and up along his throat—particularly along the gills. It was always so much fun to watch Felix squirm, and even more fun to hold him in place by wrapping his arms around him so he had no choice but to take it. “Your idiot.”
Felix’s squirming became too fervent, though—nearly a thrash. “Let me go,” he hissed.
Sylvain did so immediately, jolting back and trying to not let the hurt show on his face. Perhaps they were together, but that didn’t mean Sylvain understood every boundary between them. All he could do was desperately hope he didn’t stumble so far that Felix would refuse to forgive him—forever, this time.
And, this time, it seemed that Sylvain had crossed a line he shouldn’t. Too quickly, Felix vanished into the waves, not even his tail breaking the water.
“Felix!” Sylvain called, his gaze snapping around fervently as he sought the waves for a sign—for anything. But there was nothing. “…Felix?"
Sylvain ran his fingers through his hair. To have come so far, and for it to shatter so easily. For it all to be—
“You’re too loud,” Felix grumbled, resurfacing and easily pulling himself back into Sylvain’s lap. His tail curled around Sylvain, the fin brushing along his back.
“I—,” Sylvain stumbled to explain, only for his thoughts to crumble as his eyes fell on a familiar bag around Felix’s shoulder. “Is that—”
“Stop talking,” Felix grumbled, flicking open the pouch and digging through the contents. He muttered to himself, only seeming half-satisfied as he pulled something out within a clenched fist.
Sylvain tilted his head to see it better, but there was utterly no chance with the way Felix was holding it. “What’s that?”
Felix swallowed, his cheeks rapidly heating up and turning pink. It even spread to his chest. “I…I want you to be mine.”
Sylvain chuckled, pressing a kiss to Felix’s nose. “I already am.” He smiled as he pressed another to his cheek. “Even when I didn’t remember, I always have been.”
Felix sputtered, that light blush turning crimson. His gaze snapped away. “This is…this is how your people claim, right?”
Slowly, Felix’s fist unfurled, revealing a brilliant golden ring in his palm. It was simple in design—no engravings or anything of that nature—but it was clear that this was a valuable treasure. Even without the sentimentality warming Sylvain’s chest. He couldn’t tear his eyes off it.
“Well?” Felix huffed, his voice laden with irritation. “Is it or isn’t it?”
Sylvain nodded, heat rising to his cheeks. “Well, yes. More or less. How, um, how do your people do it?”
Felix tilted his head, taking Sylvain’s hand with a bit more force than necessary and sliding it onto his finger. At least it was the correct finger. “We bite. The scars last better than this. But…but your people wouldn’t know you were mine if I marked you.”
Sylvain swallowed, his mind flitting to the possibility. He could almost imagine himself loudly proclaiming exactly what the bite meant if someone asked. But that sounded like a good way to cause trouble—especially for Felix.
“Your teeth are too dull.” Felix noted. “But you don’t have to worry. No one is interested in competing with you.”
Sylvain swallowed, his mouth going dry. So that’s what this was: Felix’s attempt to claim, to dissuade any lingering concern sparked by the fact that they couldn’t always be together. It was…horribly adorable.
But Sylvain couldn’t deny that the thought of claiming was thrilling. “Mind if I try something?” he asked.
Felix sniffed derisively. “I told you—”
“Trust me,” Sylvain whispered, tilting Felix’s chin so he had better access to his throat. His lips traced a path along the perfect skin there, seeking the spot Felix was most sensitive.
And then, with little warning, he bit. And then, with perhaps more practice than he’d cared to admit, he sucked his mark. He didn’t pull away until Felix started squirming, the most enthralling noises passing the stubborn mer’s lips. And, by then, the mark was already red and blossoming into something that would be incredibly dark and lovely.
Felix snapped away, his hand clapping over the mark. He was quick to pull his hand away, though, searching his hand for blood that wasn’t there. “What did you do?”
Sylvain licked his lips, amused at the taste of salt on his tongue. “That’s what we call a hickey.” He grinned. “They tend to fade after a while, so I guess you’ll just have to keep coming back to me. So I can keep it fresh.
Felix’s flush turned impossibly darker. “I…suppose that will work. Until I—until I think of something better.”
Sylvain hummed, cupping Felix’s cheek and pulling him closer. “I certainly hope you don’t,” he teased, pulling Felix into another kiss.