Work Text:
On one of their sunny days off, Ignatz gathers his paints and drags Raphael to a quiet corner of the monastery. Ever since he’d promised to paint a portrait for Raphael’s sister Maya, he had been putting the pieces together in his head. Finding the time to sit the man down and get a sketch going among training, planning and trying to rebuild their base had been trying. Thankfully Byleth had released them from planning early, deciding that nursing their growing migraine was more important than dealing with the Imperial Army.
“Where are we going, Ignatz?” Raphael trails after his friend. He’s glad to have the chance to get some fresh air, his head spinning from all the strategic conversation that had been happening for the past few weeks.
“Somewhere quiet.” Ignatz laughs, clambering up over some rubble and turning to offer him a hand, “Hopefully somewhere where no one will interrupt me.” He pulls the other man up and into a small clearing enclosed by a collapsed wall. It had been claimed by nature in the five years it spent in abandon, vines, and grass crawling over the smooth stones. Gentle rays of sunlight filtered in through the holes in the walls, dappling the wildflowers in a golden glow. Ignatz goes through the motions of setting up his canvas and paints, smiling at Raphael over his shoulder.
“Okay, come over here.” He stands and takes the man’s hand, guiding him over to a piece of rubble and pushing him to sit, “Don’t worry, I don’t need you to sit still for too long, just for the sketch.”
“Sounds complicated.” Raphael grins, “Whatever you need me to go, you’re the master artist after all.”
Ignatz flushes, “It’s just a hobby,” He mumbles, “I’m not really an artist .”
“Yes, you are.”
He pointedly ignores the comment and raises one of Raphael’s arms, “Flex.” Even through the man’s thick shirt he can feel the muscle underneath. The amount of strength the man had was always impressive to Ignatz, and had his face not already been flushed it would have from having his hands on the other man. He quickly guides him into the rest of the pose and hurries back to his canvas, pushing his glasses up his nose in an attempt to hide his face.
“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about recently?” Raphael makes sure to hold the pose, watching Ignatz begin to block things out in fast strokes of charcoal, “I was thinking about that feast after the battle of The Eagle and Lion.”
Ignatz smiles warmly, “Claude really throws a great feast.” His mind wanders to the future, prompted by the memory of their after-battle tradition. He has faith that the professor will lead them to victory, and more faith that Claude will make sure five and a half years of war coming to an end has a spectacular after-party.
“I really thought our dear house leader was going to eat himself to death!” Raphael laughs, his chest shaking with the booming sound. Ignatz rolls his eyes, although the smile stays firmly on his face. It was hard not to smile in Raphael’s presence, the man was sunshine incarnate.
He glances back up to see that the man in question had changed his pose, instead doing what he could only assume was an impression of Lorenz, “Hey, hold the pose!”
Raphael pretends to be shocked, “What do you mean? This was the pose!” He presses one hand to his chest and raises the other like he’s giving a speech, “Is this not regal enough?”
Ignatz crosses his arms but he has a hard time fighting to keep his smile down, “Raphael…”
“Oh!” Raphael sits up and leans forward, resting his chin in his hands, “What about this?”
He has to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter, unfurling his legs to stand, “Come on,” Approaching him, he pushes on his shoulders to try to make him go back to the original pose, “I’m almost done the sketch.” Instead, Raphael throws his arms around Ignatz’s waist, hoisting the smaller man into the air. He yelps, clutching at Raphael’s vest as he’s swung upwards.
“But if I stop then you’ll stop smiling!” Raphael beams up at him, dazzling in the sunlight. Butterflies erupt in Ignatz’s stomach at the sight.
What he does next requires no words, no build-up. He slides his arms around Raphael’s shoulders and kisses him. Raphael kisses him back earnestly, the motion so easy and natural between them that it almost seemed like it had happened before.
Raphael leans back, putting just enough space between them that his eyes can focus on Ignatz’s face, “I guess you should finish your sketch, huh?”
Ignatz tightens his grip on the lapels on Raphael’s vest and pulls him closer, “The painting can wait.”