Chapter Text
“We should rest up, we both have classes tomorrow,” Claude said. “And--ugh--I have that exam with Manuela to do...I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. Today was so nice.” In one unceremoniously grand action, Claude brought him and Dimitri down onto the bed with a sigh.
“Get some rest, you have to be up in what. An hour?” He teased, poking Dimitri’s nose happily.
"Fifteen minutes, actually," Dimitri giggled.
He rolled over onto Claude's right side and kicked his way under the covers, glancing over at the curtains and noticing they were still open. He didn't say anything about it and wondered if Claude would notice. He certainly would in the morning.
"May I sleep in here? My room is two doors down, but...I don't want to be apart from you. I can very easily go in there tomorrow morning to get ready. I went to sleep with you tonight."
Claude let out a small laugh, pressing his nose to Dimitri's cheek. “Baby, if you thought I was going to let you go back to your room you’re crazy. Of course you can spend the night here.” Plus Claude was halfway into the covers now, so there was no way he was about to get up and escort Dimitri to his quarters.
On top of that, the floor was a mess, they were both half-naked, and Dimitri probably would have died if he had to do the walk of shame back to his room with sex-mussed hair and dark hickeys.
“Okay, okay. Whatever you say." Dimitri moved down in bed and pressed his body against Claude's, wrapping his arms around his lover and burying his face in the other man’s tan collarbone. He kissed Claude’s warm skin before leaving a trail of kisses up to his jawline, which the prince playfully sucked on as he settled in.
Dimitri’s eyes widened for a moment as something else dawned upon him: the hickeys. Oh gods. He had to do something about those as well, but how would he do it? He didn't want to embarrass himself by asking Annette or Mercedes for makeup, and he knew he certainly wouldn't hear the end of it from the others if he so much as stepped outside. Fuck.
"Thank you," Dimitri muttered as soon as he was satisfied with the mark he left on Claude's jaw, and he nestled his head against his lover's soft pecs. "Thank you for everything."
Claude let his eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh at his lips as Dimitri played with his jaw (which was probably revenge for the dark mark he had placed on Dimitri’s jaw prior this evening). He could see it still, even in the dark, as well as all the other ones. Dimitri was so beautifully pale, bruises blossoming like roses, and Claude could always see the blood rushing to Dimitri’s face whenever the other was embarrassed.
If Claude thought Dimitri was the most beautiful man in the world -- laid out in his arms, adorned with moonlight and Claude’s love marks -- then who could blame him. Not to mention the soft light from outside really- wait. Fuck I forgot to close the curtains...well that sounds like a problem for future Claude.
Dimitri's face was the calmest right before he fell asleep. His head raced a mile a minute with thoughts and prayers to prevent nightmares, but they always crept through his wishes anyway. Every single night. Except for earlier that very day, when the Goddess finally decided to grace the young prince with a pleasant dream.
Please, Goddess, don't let Claude have a bad dream. Please, please, please.
Claude sighed contently, wrapping Dimitri up in a loose embrace. “Of course, my love...”
There’s nothing you need to thank me for.
Claude did what he did out of love and loyalty truly. Dimitri’s happiness meant the world to him.
Claude drifted off to sleep after Dimitri, having spent some lazy minutes running his fingers gently through his boyfriend’s hair. The afternoon had been perfect, and with that air of positivity, Claude swayed into slumber. Although often plagued with nightmares -- that of battles and blood, terrible beasts and near-death encounters -- he didn’t even worry about those kinds of dreams tonight, not with Dimitri so close by.
When Claude opened his eyes, the vast expanse surrounding him was such as he had seen only once before. Was this...Gronder Field? It certainly resembled such a place, despite the burning hellscape it seemed to have become. Claude could almost feel the heat radiating off the embers around him, and he quickly shuffled off. He felt heavy; dragged down by an invisible force that seemed to sag his shoulders and pull at his back. Distant screams and battle cries sounded throughout the field, but they were hollow in Claude’s ears. He swore he saw people around him, fast blurs of colors he recognized swinging around him, but it was as if he couldn’t move with the same speed that they did.
And then, despite the heat, the scorching fire around him, Claude’s blood ran cold. He met the icy blue glare in front of him, an eye that seemed to be burning into his very soul.
“Kill every last one of them.”
Dimitri didn’t look corporal. He looked...ethereal, in all the wrong sense. It was as if Claude’s brain couldn’t conjure up the image of him correctly. There was..fur? The blonde hair seemed matted, and...longer? Or was Claude’s subconscious pulling tricks? His black armor seemed to shake in and out of existence, and much like the rest of the battlefield, Dimitri as a whole seemed to phase between being genuine or just a silhouette of smoke.
Words stabbed at Claude’s throat, anxious to yell or reach out, but his limbs refused to answer. All he could do was stare. An unknown sensation crept behind him, dragging its deadly fingers down Claude’s neck, over his spine, chilling his body to the bone. He realized then that it was an emotion he was not used to feeling upon seeing the prince.
Fear.
Claude was afraid of the man in front of him.
Behind the mess of blonde hair, Dimitri’s right eye was hidden away by a much too clear patch, but Claude could still see blood pooling there, soaked up by the fabric. His other eye, a lot colder and harsher than Claude was used to seeing it, narrowed. In an instant, Dimitri let out a battle cry, his entire body swinging forward as he lunged at Claude. Claude himself still couldn’t move, and now he wasn’t even sure if it was the same unknown weight or the fear that had seized his legs. Claude was known for his dexterity, his speed, and the way he seemed to almost dance out of attacks, but at this moment, faced with the lancer in front of him, all he could do was stare in horror.
And before Claude could do anything, he swore he felt the phantom lance pierce his stomach. He could feel his flesh, ripping slowly at the point of the lance, tearing and yelling as Claude did nothing but gasp. And finally, finally, he moved. All he could do was clutch the fur of Dimitri’s cloak, hands shaking as he begged -- begged for anything, for Dimitri to help him, for Dimitri to leave, for help, for death, for the pain to stop-
Claude woke up with a silent scream, hands clutching the blanket by his torso, the skin of his stomach yelling in phantom pain.