Work Text:
The sound of his alarm sends Claude reeling back so hard his head hit the wall he had been sleeping against. He winces as he massages the back of his skull. Well, on the plus side, he's perfectly awake now, which was the goal.
His whole body feels sore due to the near all-nighter he pulled and the cramped space he has been hiding in for hours. The little nook he has found thanks to Linhardt - with who he had to pass a shady deal in order to be granted access to it two days per week - is ideal to hide in the library all night but it's complicated to find a comfortable position to sleep in it. Not that Claude isn't used to poor sleeping positions, he falls asleep at his desk more often than in his bed nowadays. But, as he struggles to chase the pins and needles planted in every fiber of his legs, he's starting to realize it's taking a toll on his body. Ugh, well, just one more year of uni and he will be free of the dozens of projects and deadlines keeping him up at night (he knows that's most likely a lie he tells himself and that he will keep the same hectic and unhealthy work schedule after graduation but that's a problem for future Claude).
He checks his phone. Enough time to make it to his oral but taking a detour to get coffee would be risky, especially in his sluggish state. He's not about to doze off but he's clearly not in his most alert state either. The shock of his head colliding with the wall wasn't enough to fight off the effect of a near all-nighter for more than a few minutes. The world seems a bit unreal and out of reach right now, like he's floating through it, half-disconnected, and that's never a good sign. It would take him way too much time to drag his feet to a coffee shop. Also every shop and vending machine on campus is probably drowning under the mass of early risers at this hour. He'll have to do without the sweet sweet ambrosia of college students then.
He nearly trips over his own feet as he extricates himself from his nook and gives the librarian an innocent smile as he passes by. She tiredly glares back, not fooled at all. But she hasn't reported him yet so she must have chosen not to waste her energy on his little rule-bending habits as long as he doesn't make a mess of her library. Which, surprinsigly given the apocalyptic state of his bedroom, he doesn't. He might be a rule breaker but he's not an ass.
The walk to the building the exam takes place in feels like an eternity. Everything feels stupidly overwhelming and numb at the same time to his sleep addled brain and he's almost walked into someone two times now, reflexes too slowed down to deal with the crowd of rushing students. When he eventually arrives in front of his room he has to fight against the very tempting idea of leaning against a wall and taking a quick nap there. Sylvain slapping his shoulder makes him jump, something that would have never happened in his normal, extra-perceptive state.
“You look like death warmed over.”
“I FEEL like death warmed over.” Claude groans.
Sylvain chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. Coffee.
Claude must have looked either desperate or murderous and absolutely not subtle about why because Sylvain stares down at his cup before cautiously offering it to him. There's not much left but it's way better than nothing and Claude gulps it down like his life depends on it - and maybe it does - before giving Sylvain a tired thanks. This one pats him empathetically.
“Didn't have your milf to take care of you this morning ?”
“My what now ?”
A shit-eating grin spreads on Sylvain's lips.
“Your milf. Goes also by Lorenz ?”
Once the words hits his brain Claude lets out a disbelieving snort.
“Why do you call him that ? And why would he be mine ?”
He never had a problem coming up with ridiculous nicknames for Lorenz, it was one of his favorite pastimes for a semester or two, but at least they were always infuriantigly on point. Infuriatingly for Lorenz. He, for one, had a great time.
“Because he's basically a strict mother hen that you're desperate to fuck ?”
Sylvain looks at him like it's the most painfully obvious thing on earth and he's an idiot and, okay, maybe his mind is not working perfectly right now but he's still lucid enough to know that this is ridiculous. He might have a bit of a crush on Lorenz – okay cross that, he won't be honnest with Sylvain but there's no need to lie to himself, he has a big crush on Lorenz. But he's not DESPERATE. Like, sure, he finds his mind drifting more and more often when he sees Lorenz passing by or when he's ranting at him all passionate and beautiful and sexy and- Okay brain let's stop you there before you embarrass yourself to yourself any further.
So okay he has a crush on Lorenz. He has for some time now and he really wants to act on it. Still, he's not desperate. And especially not desperate to fuck him, goddess, he loves Sylvain but sometimes he gets why Felix is always elbowing him in the ribs.
Also he might not be able to spend a day without lecturing him but he's not mother-henning him or whatever. He's just being Lorenz, he loves lecturing everyone, doesn't mean anything.
Sylvain is still giving him this look though and Claude is not very comfortable with the way his mild – not desperate thank you very much – attraction to Lorenz is being exposed right now. So he decides to act amused and nonchalant about it, like he does with all the subjects he's sensitive about and wants to keep far away from people's prying eyes.
“You know, far be it from me to slutshame but that's not because you want to fuck most of the people you know that everyone is the same. Some of us are actually capable of amicable and healthy relationships.”
…
Okay so he wanted to act nonchalant, not be a total ass. Damn he's really not that smooth when he's only slept like six hours in the last two days and doesn't have enough coffee to compensate. It's not that he's entirely wrong about Sylvain's unhealthy tendencies when it comes to relationships and intimacy but there are sensitive ways to put it. And underneath the cool act Sylvain can be quite sensitive, especially about this subject. Claude does not hesitate to call him out on his shit when it goes too far but this was just unecessary. He's about to apologize but Sylvain is now throwing an arm around his shoulder, smiling like he's entirely unbothered. Claude knows better. His friend is a professional liar but Claude is an international champion. He can perfectly see through the bullshit especially after several years of friendship.
But Sylvain seems decided on keeping up the act and continue his little friendly teasing. Claude suspects it might have turned into some kind of revenge now. Well, he'll have to let him have his fun he guesses, as a sort of silent apology... Resigning himself to his fate, he lets his head fall back on Sylvain's broad shoulder. It makes for a surprisingly comfy pillow.
“Oh sweet sweet Claude, who do you think you're fooling ?” Sylvain sing-song in his ear, clearly enjoying himself as he gets back at him for his earlier jab. “You're my bro, my homie, my no-homo-for-each-other-but-still-not-straight soulmate.”
Claude raises an eyebrow at him and Sylvain throws back a radiant, unbothered smile. Oh well, he can let him have this one, it's fair retribution he supposes...
“Your defense mechanism that consist of hitting on my flaws in order to make me back off doesn't work anymore.” He continues and, ugh, Claude guesses he's not the only one who has become fluent in seeing-through-your-bullshit during these years of friendship. “Not after four years of revelery and drunken heart-to-hearts that sometimes include your lust for Gloucester.”
Yeaaaaah mixes of too many different alcohols in the same glass tends to make him a bit too talkative. But they're not supposed to bring up what's unpacked during these drunken two am confessions. Does Claude mentions how Sylvain sobbed about Felix's hair, of all things, last time ? No, because he has some respect left for Sylvain's dignity. Claude merily rolls his eyes, too tired for this shit. He's trying to keep what little energy he has left for the exam, at least that's what he tells himself to explain his lack of convincing comeback.
“Even if I wanted to fuck Lorenz he's still not my milf. He doesn't mother hen me he's just very vocal about my poor life choices.” He mutters half-heartedly.
Sylvain shakes his head like he's deeply disappointed in him. And then he stills, staring at something behind Claude. A delighted smile replaces his pout.
“Hmhmmm...We'll see about that bro.”
Claude narrows his eyes at him. He doesn't like this tone and what it implies. Not at all.
“Claude Von Riegan.”
Oh. He's not a fan of this tone either...
Disengaging from Sylvain's half-hug, and nearly falling in the process now that he lacks proper support, he slowly turns back on himself. Not because he's afraid but because his body is truly, painfully, embarassingly slowed down. He swears he can barely feel his legs anymore.
Walking down the hallway is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester in all his irritated glory. He's walking like he is on a warpath and a runway at the same time, something only he could pull off. Okay maybe Dorothea could too, but she would not have that much effect on Claude. For a beautiful second he admires the way Lorenz's hair sway with each step, the curve of his rosy lips as he scowls, the fire igniting his glare... And then he remembers said glare is directed at him and goes very still. Maybe if he doesn't move Lorenz won't see him and will walk past. Like a long-legged, gorgeous, purple T-rex... Wow. He really needs a long nap after this.
“Hey Lorenz ! Looking as frigidly hot as ever !” Sylvain waves, trademark flirty smirk on.
Claude shushes the little voice in the back of his head approving what Sylvain just said.
Lorenz completely ignores him and stops before Claude. Claude tries a smile. It's met with a sigh. Oof. That's sigh number three. The sigh Lorenz gives when he is deeply tired of his shit to the point he's not sure he even wants to lecture him anymore. Not a good one.
“I didn't see you at our dorms this morning so I suppose you spent the night at the library finishing one of the ten project you're currently working on ?”
It's not really a question. More like a confident guess. Lorenz knows him too well and he can't decide if he's oddly touched or if it's triggering his fight-or-flight instinct. He's spent most of his life making sure no one gets too close, a preventive defense that was very much necessary and perfectly justified at some point in his life. Nowadays he's trying to trust people more but it's... a work in progress, let's say. And, in spite of shaky debuts and still pretty regular arguments, Lorenz has proven to be among the most trustworthy people he knows. When he's not misguided and biased by his asshole of a father that is, which he was a LOT at first. Those were tough times.
So, because Lorenz is actually a decent person and not a threath anymore he crushes the part of his brain telling him to go into hiding and change name. The excruciating tiredness makes it very hard, makes him lack the cognitive ressources required to be a minimum rational instead of letting any strong emotion overwhelm him. But he eventually manages and gives Lorenz a smile he hopes is more charming than dopey.
“May I call my lawyer or demand access to a bunker before answering that question ?”
Lorenz just stares. His cheeks don't flush as they usually do when Claude pulls the charming act lately. Damn, dopey it is.
He's expecting a long lecture or, even worse, Lorenz turning heels, entirely done with him. So he can't quite hide his surprise when he pushes a biiiiig cup into his hands. Claude clumsily grabs and inspects it. When he realizes it's coffee, and not any coffee but his special order for when he really needs to last the day without falling asleep in the middle of something, he practically gasp.
“You drink way too much of this stuff but it won't do if you slur or doze off during your exam. I bet you didn't have time to get one hm ?” Lorenz shakes his head.
Normal Claude might have poked fun at Lorenz for that. But this is sleep-deprived, done-with-exams, very-touched Claude. He's ecstatic and too exhausted to bother hiding it.
“Lorenz... Lorenz my hero, my savior, my muse, I will compose sonates to your glory, cover you in diamonds, drop at your feet and-” He starts to ramble between small sips of divine, burning coffee.
He's not even trying to tease him, he's genuinely grateful and enamored right now.
“Stop it.”
Ah. There it is. The flush. Claude smirks behind his cup. Coffee and Lorenz blushing at him, this might just make up for the rough wake-up call and the bone-deep exhaustion.
And then, suddenly, Lorenz is all in his face, frowning disapprovingly as he pulls on his collar and smoothes down his shirt, trying to fix the millions creases left by his night at the library. Claude freezes and feels his cheeks turn red as well. A small shiver run down his spine as Lorenz's fingers lingers on his chest. He tries to tell himself it's probably the cafeine but who is he fooling really ? And it's not just the touch, the stern tone is also doing things to him, damnit...
“I can't believe you're going to present yourself to the examination board like this. The state of this shirt... And your hair...” Lorenz laments, doing his best to save what he can.
“Hey ! I made an effort, it's stain-free !” Claude weakly jokes as he attempts to save face and act like his sleep-addled mind is not overwhelmed by how attracted he is to Lorenz right now.
Lorenz's delicate fingers slip in his hair, combing them back, and for a wonderful second he forgets everything else that has ever existed and loses himself in the sensation. It doesn't last though and when he blinks back to reality what just happened fully hits him. Did Lorenz just...?
Given the way his friend's blush has spread all the way to his ears he did and the reality of what he just did, and possibly Claude's reaction to it, has catched up to him. (Also Sylvain is giving him a stupidly smug grin so, yes, he definitely did that.) Lorenz touches him from time to time, always cautiously as if unsure it will be welcomed, but he never gets this daring, not even in the privacy of their dorms. Claude must really look like some roadkill for him to throw cautions at the wind and get this handsy. Getting touches out of pity is not ideal but he'll take it for now he guesses. Especially if Lorenz run his hand through his hair again...
Unfortunately the man is busy foraging through his bag for something, not paying him attention anymore. Or at least trying to act as if, Claude might be super tired but he sees the way Lorenz tenses as he stares. He's very skilled at keeping a collected front but Claude has known him for years now, he's fluent in Lorenz's subtle body language.
As he produces a small stick out of his bag, Claude momentarily forget about Lorenz's body and language (as hard as it sounds) and frowns. What in the name of- Before he can ask Lorenz is popping it open, revealing what looks like some kind of lip gloss. He's been around Hilda and her gigantic collection of make-up a lot but he's never payed that much attention to it so he's not really sure about his guess right now but it really looks like a lip gloss. Lorenz mutters something about “shade being too light but it'll have to do” and turns back to him. Claude instinctively straighten up.
“I'm going to fix your dark circles as best as I can. You can't possibly go in like that. They're darker than your coffee, I swear Claude you need to take better care of yourself...”
Lorenz sounds sincerely worried, and not just about his looks, so Claude melts a little and lets him have his fun. He has a couple of minutes before the exam anyway.
“Did you come here just to boost my ego ?” He can't help but fake an offended pout because it wouldn't be him if he didn't taunt Lorenz a little.
Lorenz's hand craddles his chin and he goes mute. Over his shoulder he sees Sylvain suppressing a snicker but he can't glare, he's too busy being paralyzed by Lorenz's fingers on his skin and his worried frown so close to his face. All his mind can think right now is a succession of muffled screams as Lorenz fusses over him like a stern and incredibly hot mother he really wants to kiss.
Oh. Oh shit. Sylvain was right. Sylvain was fucking right. Fuuuuuuck.
“I came here to make sure you didn't drop dead after one too many all-nighter.” Lorenz retorts while applying his little stick under Claude's eyes. He has to give it to him, in spite of his blush he's doing a great job at looking mostly unbothered by their promiscuity. Claude doesn't know how he fares himself but he feels like it's not too brilliant if the look Sylvain is giving him is anything to go by. “And also to make sure you don't get failed based on looks alone.”
He kind of zone out, lost in Lorenz's eyes and touch and scent, all too soothing and enthralling, especially for his already hazy mind. When he pulls away Claude nearly follow. Fortunately his body is too limp, thanks to the exhaustion and Lorenz's bewitching effect, so he avoids further embarassment.
“Far from perfect but that will have to do.”
Lorenz puts everything back in his bag (when did he get a sponge, Claude must have really been out of it wow). A little awkward silence fall over them as they take in each other, unsure about how to deal with the aftermath of this whole... thing. But eventually Lorenz graciously falls back on his feet, as nearly always, and clears his throath, straightening up.
“Well, hum, good luck. And please take a nap after this.”
The “please” is there because Lorenz tries his best to remain polite and proper but Claude knows he's completely capable of tucking him into bed himself if he doesn't obey. Oh. Oh wow. The implications behind this just caught up with him.
As he contemplates Lorenz walking away, just as glorious from this angle, he whispers to himself.
“Lorenz is my milf.”
And Sylvain, who has remained religiously silent until now, relishing in the scene and the epiphany that just hit him, pats his shoulder empathetically.
“Lorenz is your milf.”