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The candle perched at the corner of Dimitri’s desk was flickering dangerously low. The writhing shadows it cast across the copious papers and letters spread out before him had started to fool with his one good eye, the scribbled words dancing and weaving across the page, evading his attempts to read them. Giving up with a long sigh, Dimitri leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands across his face. How late was it?
His back ached as he rose, a good indication that he was awake much later than he should have been – and, as Claude would point out, that he was working too hard. Dimitri paused, halfway to his wardrobe. Now that he thought of it, Claude should have returned from his latest research session in the library by now. Like Dimitri, his beloved partner had a bad habit of neglecting to get a healthy amount of sleep each night; it was something they had both been guilty of as far back as their academy days together. Those nights they had instead spent in deep discussion about each other and the world around them, about history and politics, about what their futures would hold for them.
Neither of them could have predicted the events that had unfolded over the five years of war. Or that, just two years after the war had ended, the two of them would be living together in the royal castle of Fhirdiad as the King of Fhaergus and the Ambassador of Almyra, happily married and ruling over Fódlan together. He and Claude, together, always.
Dimitri felt his heart swell in his chest at the thought. After all the years of struggling – against the Imperial army, against the ghosts of his past, against his self-hatred – to know that he was finally safe and happy with Claude at his side was beyond his ability to describe with words, even if he often doubted that he deserved it. Now, even just the idea of a life without Claude left him feeling hollow and empty. That man, with his clever smile and shining eyes, with the heart of pure gold he tried so hard to conceal under wit and deception; he was Dimitri’s whole world, the one thing that could keep him tethered to the future, rather than the past.
And he was most likely still scouring through books in the library, chasing after possible answers to one of his many impossible questions.
Careful to not make too much noise, not wanting to wake anyone in the nearby rooms, Dimitri eased open the door to the royal chambers and began making his way down the corridor towards the castle library. For a long time, walking these halls at night had terrified him, always afraid that the ghosts following him would break free of the shadows and lunge for him, drag him back into the darkness and trap him there forever; Dimitri gave a shudder at the thought. He no longer felt those ghosts follow him, but even the memory of those moments troubled him, and he quickened his steps, eager to find Claude.
Sure enough, candlelight leaked through the library’s doorway, and Dimitri stepped inside to see two candles still clinging to life, precariously close to numerous stacks of books. Walled-in by those pillars of knowledge was Claude, his arms folded on the table in front of him and his head resting on top of them, eyes closed, his shoulders rising and falling with the gentle rhythm of sleep. It wasn’t the first time Dimitri had found Claude fast asleep in a library, and wouldn’t be the last he was sure, but that didn’t stop Dimitri from all but melting at the sight, his thoughts reduced to nothing but a puddle of adoration.
For a moment he could do no more than simply watch Claude with a look on his face that would have had any noble dignitary questioning if it was really the stern King of Fhaergus standing in the library doorway or some kind of imposter. It was softer than would seem possible for Dimitri, an expression that was strictly reserved for one man only, and even Claude had complained that he didn’t get to see it as often as he’d like. A shame Claude was too sound asleep to see it now.
Gingerly, Dimitri took a step forward into the library, wincing as the wooden floor creaked in protest under his weight. He looked up, worried that the sound might disturb Claude, but his partner’s breathing remained as steady as ever; he must have been in quite a deep sleep, and probably had been for a good hour or so. Step by careful step, Dimitri crossed the library to Claude’s table and reached down to tenderly brush a wandering strand of hair from Claude’s face. His only response was to give a quiet murmur and bury his face deeper into his arms. No waking him, then. That left Dimitri with a single option.
As gently as he could, Dimitri looped his arm around the back of Claude’s torso and eased him back from the table, then scooped up Claude’s legs with his other arm and lifted him easily to nestle him bridal-style against Dimitri’s chest. When they had first started to spend their nights together, all those years ago at the academy, Claude had been a terribly light sleeper, and any sound or shift would have him waking in a panic, scrabbling to defend himself from whatever danger his mind had conjured in his sleep. It hadn’t escaped Dimitri that, gradually, as they spent more and more time together, Claude’s sleep became deeper and less restless, and when he woke it was no longer with fear in his eyes, but rather a tired contentedness. Or, when he woke to the sight of Dimitri watching him, with love.
Nowadays, Claude was usually the heavier sleeper of the two of them, especially if he’d been keeping himself up late in the library. As was demonstrated by the fact that, even as Dimitri readjusted Claude’s position in his arms, Claude did nothing more than hum out a sleepy sigh and curl his face into Dimitri’s chest. They returned to their shared room like that, Claude’s sleeping form held securely in Dimitri’s strong arms, and Dimitri’s gaze fixed on Claude’s peaceful expression. No scheming grin or charming winks in his sleep; this was Claude at his most natural and most vulnerable, and Dimitri felt privileged to be able to witness it.
He managed to push open the door to their room with his shoulder and press it shut behind them before carrying Claude over to the bed and easing him down onto the pile of furs of blankets – Claude often found the Fhaergus nights to be unbearably cold, so Dimitri had requested that extra furs be kept in their room just for him. Still unwilling to wake him, Dimitri sat down on the bed beside Claude and removed his boots and coat, setting them down nearby. He considered removing the trousers and blouse Claude also wore, but decided against it; Claude might not appreciate being woken in such a manner. Instead, Dimitri stood and eased the blankets out from under Claude’s curled body. He hurried out of his own clothes and slid in next to his partner, pulling the blankets and many furs up to envelope them in warmth.
Last, but absolutely not least of all, Dimitri curled his arms around Claude once again and drew him in close, their legs tangled and Dimitri’s lips resting against Claude’s hair. Claude gave a mumble at that and Dimitri was struck with the fear that he’d disturbed his lover’s sleep, but then Claude simply dragged a lazy hand up and around Dimitri’s waist, huffed once, and returned to his peaceful state of slumber. Dimitri smiled, placed a feather-light kiss against Claude’s hair, and let his eyes fall shut. Claude wasn’t the only one who found sleep easier these days, and Dimitri was sound asleep not a moment later.
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Warm. Warm and soft and… muscular? Claude groaned, burying his face further under the blankets until his forehead pressed against something hard – Dimitri’s chest, he imagined, if he was where he thought he was. He didn’t exactly remember falling asleep in the library last night, but he certainly didn’t remember the trek back to the royal chambers he shared with Dimitri. Or nestling into bed in the arms of the man he loved, which is usually something Claude had trouble forgetting. His own arms, which had been tucked in the tight space between their two bodies, now reached up to wind around Dimitri’s shoulders as Claude lifted his head above the blankets again and opened his eyes.
No matter how many years together they had in front of them, or how many years had passed, Claude would never tire of waking up and seeing Dimitri’s strikingly handsome face. This morning, however, something wasn’t quite right. His favourite expression of Dimitri’s was when he was calm, at ease, temporarily untroubled by the weight of his responsibilities – both real and imagined. But this wasn’t that face, like it should have been.
Dimitri wore a frown this morning, his eye shut tight and his lips drawn into a tight, strained line, his jaw clenched. It was an expression, sadly, that Claude had woken to a number of times before, and recognised immediately as a sure sign that Dimitri was having a nightmare. They happened less often now than they had during the war or their days in the academy, where some nights were so terrible that Dimitri would wake in a fit of screaming, or not wake at all and sit up with blank eyes and horror on his face, trying to fend off something Claude couldn’t see. Claude knew that feeling, knew what it was like to have dreams that chased him into consciousness and refused to leave even then, but something about Dimitri’s terrors, about the sound of the screams he’d made, had chilled even Claude.
Unable to let Dimitri simply suffer through this particular nightmare, Claude leaned in and carefully, tenderly, kissed Dimitri’s tensed lips, then his nose, then the small but jagged scar across his ruined eye, and repeated the motions until Dimitri relaxed, his shoulders drooping back into the mattress, his lips parting with a relieved sigh; Claude threw in an extra kiss for good measure, just to be certain the wicked dream was well and truly gone.
When Dimitri’s breathing had returned to normal and the heartbeat against his own had steadied, Claude twisted around, turning to face away from Dimitri. His morning husbandly duties had been fulfilled, and he now had a nagging biological duty to take care of. Propping himself up on one elbow, he was about to begin worming himself out from under the blankets when Dimitri, still asleep, had another idea. Claude felt the strong arms still looped around his torso suddenly tighten and gave a yelp when Dimitri literally dragged him closer until Claude’s back was flush against Dimitri’s chest.
“Mitya!” Claude grunted, trying to pry Dimitri’s arms away. “Come on, I swear I’ll be back, I just – oof!”
His efforts had the opposite effect of making Dimitri’s grip tighten. With the man’s brutish strength, Claude felt his ribs creak and his lungs strain under the pressure around them. Great.
“Dim… mitri…!”
Wriggling was doing him little good. Oblivious to his struggles, Dimitri pressed his face against Claude’s shoulders, rubbing his nose across the back of the other man’s blouse with a sleepy hum. At any other time, Claude would have been delighted by this show of absolute affection and already considering the number of ways he could tease Dimitri about it later, but the tight grip around his chest was quickly becoming a problem. Morning cuddles? Romantic. Being accidentally crushed by his husband? Not Claude’s cup of tea.
Switching tactics, Claude stopped trying to tug open Dimitri’s arms and instead traced light circles and patterns across them with his fingers, something he knew Dimitri found relaxing. Sure enough, Dimitri gave a rumbling sigh behind him, and finally – finally – loosened his hug enough that Claude could breathe. Thank the gods.
A grunt from behind him.
“Mm… Claude…?”
Now he woke up. Claude didn’t have the heart to be annoyed at the sound of Dimitri’s half-awake voice, still croaky and slurred.
“Morning, Mitya. Sleep well?”
Dimitri didn’t answer at first, and instead lifted his head from Claude’s shoulder to bury it in the back of his neck; it tickled a little.
“Yes…” he mumbled against Claude’s skin. “Did you?”
“Better than ever.” Claude takes one of Dimitri’s hands and lifts it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. “Say, did you come get me from the library last night?”
Dimitri traced lazy kisses along Claude’s neck, making him shiver. Between kisses, he answered, “You were… sound asleep… so I carried you… back here…” A pause. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Oh, sure, I’d rather be conked out at a cold table than in bed with my husband.” Claude rolled his eyes, and even though Dimitri couldn’t see it, he hoped the tone of his words was obvious enough.
Another kiss, this one right behind Claude’s ear, and he couldn’t stop his cheeks from heating up in almost instantaneous response.
“I thought so.”
Claude squirmed a little, Dimitri’s breath tickling him a little too much, and was abruptly reminded of why he’d been trying to get up in the first place.
“Hey, uh, Mitya… I gotta get up…”
A long groan against his hair. “Clauuude…”
“I know, I know, but I’ll be back, ok?”
It seemed, for a moment, like Dimitri was going to stop him from leaving again, consciously this time, but he placed one last lingering kiss against Claude’s hair and rolled onto his back with a huff. Ah, yes, the King of the Holy Kingdom of Fhaergus’s famous Royal Pout, a sight Claude would never tire of seeing. With a quiet chuckle, Claude sat up and pushed aside the blankets and furs covering him. He was about to edge himself off the bed when he stopped and turned, shifting onto his hands and knees so that he was hovering over Dimitri, who continued to pout up at him. Claude leaned in and brought their lips together in a slow, loving kiss, one that Dimitri didn’t hesitate to return and was reluctant to let end when Claude pulled back again.
“Hey, Dimitri?”
“Yes, Claude?”
“I love you.”
If there was anything better than the Royal Pout, it was what Claude fondly thought of as the Royal Flush. Dimitri’s cheeks, nose, and ears turned the most charming shade of red when he was flustered.
“I love you, too, Claude.”
Oh, gods, it was embarrassing the way those words made Claude’s heart flutter and his mind go blank.
As Claude hurried out of the room, he refused to risk even a glance back; there was no way he’d let Dimitri see the dark blush rapidly spreading across his cheeks and neck.
There was truly no where else in the world he’d rather wake than in Dimitri’s arms.