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Sylvain's not the judgemental type.
Really, he isn't. Ask anyone who knew him and they'd tell you the same thing. After all, it's a well-known fact that he's no stranger to making mistakes of a... significant scale and questionable choices. Even made them on a whim sometimes- welcomed them with open arms, much to the chagrin of his friends.
It's living, he'd argue. Because no one could live without making a few mistakes here and there. Sylvain just happened to make very... public ones. Indecent ones, some would say.
But he'd never make an amateurish one like this.
"Ing, look," he says, voice tinged with amusement and barely restrained glee.
Ingrid looks up from her book, eyebrow raised. Probably because seeing your significant other's ass raised in the air and their head amidst couch cushions is weird.
"What?"
Sylvain pulls out his discovery slowly, with all the splendour and flourish items such as these required.
That is to say, Sylvain pulls out a pack of condoms from the depths of the couch with as much finesse as he can gather.
Ingrid drops her book. "Oh my god."
"I know!"
Ingrid snatches the pack of twelve from him and, under different circumstances, he'd be excited by this, sure, but twelve, Sylvain repeats. Goddess, Twelve extra large Peagasus condoms that "ensured maximum enjoyment when doing Falcon Knight style." Sylvain doesn't even know what Falcon Knight style is.
He is both horrified and impressed. Of who, he doesn't know yet.
As if on cue, the sound of the door opening echoes down the hallway and Sylvain's excitement skyrockets. After a few seconds and some noises by the entrance of the apartment, Dimitri and Felix come into view carrying what look like groceries.
As soon as Felix spots the condoms in Ingrid's hands, a look of disgust crosses his face. Dimitri's erupts into a deep shade of crimson and, honestly, that would be pretty damning if it was anyone else, but it's Dimitri and that's just his natural reaction to... private things.
"In the living room? Really?" Felix's voice drips with distaste as he places the groceries on the floor.
In the corner of Sylvain's eyes, he can see Ingrid turn red. Cute.
"Should we leave?" Dimitri asks awkwardly, looking at everything but the couple on the couch.
"No!" Ingrid all but yells at them. "As if we would ever- here? Of all places?" She's red and sputtering and it should be a crime, Sylvain thinks. Because now he's torn between wanting to fluster her further and finding out the identity of Mr. Extra Large. "They aren't ours," Ingrid finally manages, dignified.
Felix and Dimitri do not look convinced.
"We wish they were." Sylvain finally chimes in. Ingrid kicks him. "But yeah, not ours. I just happened to find them stuffed in the couch. Do either of you have any idea as to who they could belong to?" He's aware of the shit-eating grin on his face.
Felix eyes them dubiously. "You really expect us to believe they aren't yours?"
"That's why I'm asking, Fel." Sylvain carries on, unfazed.
"Well, they aren't mine and do you really think the boar would buy those?" Dimitri turns even redder at the implication. "You idiots are the only ones who would have a reason to keep them in the apartment anyway."
"Ok, rude, but sound logic. Except they really aren't ours." Sylvain presses. "I think I'd remember buying them and I'm pretty sure Ing wouldn't."
"Never," the blonde emphasizes gravely as she tosses the things on the table.
"Maybe you don't remember buying them?" Dimitri finally speaks up, hesitant as he places his share of groceries on the floor.
Sylvain blinks. "How would that even work?"
Felix scoffs as he moves to sit on the chair farthest away from them. "Claude's party."
"Claude's party?" Sylvain repeats. Had he had another one since-
Oh.
Ohhhh.
Oh.
"Oh." Sylvain realizes. The same look of recognition crosses Ingrid's face.
Claude's party. As in the party last week where everyone, as in, everyone (even Hubert von Prick) had gotten blackout drunk, yet somehow managed to end up in their own homes the following day in the wildest manners possible.
Sylvain doesn't remember much of the party itself. (No one did. All he remembers is flashing lights and walking in on an arm-wrestling match between Edelgard and Balthus. Wild!) Though he does remember how he woke up the next day.
He, Dimitri, Felix, and Ingrid were piled in the middle of their living room. He'd been wearing nothing but a thong (much to everyone's disgust), clutching two pool noodles he had no memory of purchasing as tinted shades he didn't remember buying either slid down his face. There was also a splitting headache, but Sylvain didn't want to think about that.
Claude still refuses to answer any questions about that night.
Huh.
"Shit," Sylvain says as he whips around to stare at the condoms. Those could very well be theirs.
"I told you," Felix drawls.
Ingrid scowls at him. "In that case, these could be either yours or Dimitri's too, can't they?"
Felix raises an eyebrow. "What."
"Both your and Dimitri's memories of that night are just foggy as ours. One of you could have bought these. Sorry, Dimitri." Ingrid can't help but apologize for the accusation. Sylvain can't blame her. Accusing Dimitri of anything malicious always seemed immoral.
The blond is practically a tomato now, but he shakes his head. "No, you're right... they- I could have bought them, I suppose," he says, bashful as sinks into the chair across Felix.
"This could just be you covering," Felix cuts in, eyes narrowed. "Fine, we don't remember anything from Claude's party, but who's to say the condoms were bought that night?"
Sylvain huffs. "You really think they belong to us, don't you?"
"You own a thong. It isn't outside the realm of possibility."
All four of them stare at the pack, puzzled before looking at each other.
Suspicious. So this was how it was going to be, huh? Fine. Sylvain can play this game. Win it even.
"Fel, didn't you have Annette over last night?"
Felix turns pink and he can practically see the gears spinning in his head. Yes, Felix, he is going there. "Yes, but-"
"I mean," Sylvain continues, "your names combined is Netteflix. And I can only assume you were chilling while we were ou-"
He leaps from his seat just in time to dodge the pillow Felix throws at him and he backs away when the smaller man rises, fuse lit. Dimitri's mouth takes the form of a small O as he watches the exchange and Ingrid holds a hand to her face.
"We didn't do anything!"
"Who can vouch for that?" Sylvain prods, both curious and mischievous.
"Me." A muscle in Felix's jaw twitches.
"Fel, you know it's ok to do those things, right? You may be small, but you're at that age-"
Sylvain doesn't get to finish his sentence before Felix charges at him.
"Stop. This is getting us nowhere," Ingrid says exasperatedly as she watches Felix and Sylvain run around the room. Grown-ass men running around like children. Goddess, help her.
"Really, Felix, things like that are ok, but to hide them? What would Annette th-"
"I will stab you."
"With something extra large or... ?"
Sylvain is panting and out of breath, but a loud laugh still escapes him at the sight of Dimitri's scandalized face and Ingrid's head in her hands. He doesn't enjoy this for long, however, because Felix catches up to him and the next thing he knows, Sylvain is on the floor and ouch. Holy fuck. How did someone so small have so much power?
He groans exaggeratedly as he clutches his stomach. Felix returns to his seat, grumbling, not even bothering to help Sylvain which is absolutely hurtful... but onbrand for him.
"Ingriiiddd."
"You deserved that," is Ingrid's curt response.
Sylvain sulks on the floor.
"Anyways, no," Felix says, "we didn't do anything and, for the last time, those aren't mine."
"You would be saying the same thing regardless." Ingrid eyes him with suspicion. "What did you and Annette end up doing anyway?
"None of your business."
"If you're going to be so insistent on how they aren't yours, back it up by telling us what you were doing instead." Ingrid grins, angel-like. Sylvain is reminded of how much he loves her.
They all stare at Felix expectantly. He does not meet anybody's eyes.
"Come on, Fel," Sylvain encourages from the floor.
Felix sighs heavily before pausing and muttering something under his breath. His face is pinker than Sylvain's ever seen it before and he is living for it.
"What was that, Felix?"
"I said karaoke. There, are you all happy?" He levels them all with an intense glare, effect only ruined by the color of his face.
Sylvain is overjoyed, in fact. Positively delighted by the knowledge of angry, little Felix being soft and singing for happy, even littler Annette. He can tell Ingrid and Dimitri are too, if the grins they're trying to hide are any indication.
But they all know better than to throw a rock at a bear they've already poked with a stick.
"Ok, that sounds solid. Thank you for your cooperation, Felix," Ingrid says sweetly.
Felix grunts in response.
"Did you not find a receipt, Sylvain?" Dimitri changes the subject smoothly. "Maybe it will help."
"Didn't see one in there but maybe I just didn't look hard enough?" He winces as he finally gets up from the floor. He may be a fencer, but Felix knew how to pack a punch.
Ingrid proceeds to dig through the cushions and after a few seconds of watching her go at it quietly, the men are disappointed to see her come up nearly empty-handed.
"Nothing but a few coins and," they watch her with mild interest as her hand escapes the clutches of the couch, "a letter?"
"That's mine," Dimitri suddenly pipes up, harried as he grabs the envelope from Ingrid. There's a deep blush staining his cheeks and an unusual skittish glint in his eyes. He returns to his spot quickly, clutching the paper hard.
Sylvain, Ingrid, and Felix trade looks. Interesting.
"What's that, Dima?" The orange-haired man starts off innocently enough.
"Ah, just as Ingrid said, a letter." Dimitri refuses to make eye contact.
"Hand it over, boar," Felix demands, direct as usual.
Dimitri pales. "What, no-"
"Is it from Byleth?" Ingrid leans forward.
The look on Dimitri's face is all the answer they need. Sylvain pounces.
"Come to think of it, didn't she come over sometime this week?"
"She did." Felix nods, crossing his arms. Sylvain wants to laugh. Only expect cooperation from the man when it came at Dimitri's expense.
"So what'd you guys do, Dimitri?" Ingrid continues the assault.
Dimitri sputters. "N-Nothing much. She wanted to watch a movie, so we did." The stutter raises eyebrows.
"What did you watch?"
"Fire Emblem."
"Which one?"
"Three Houses."
"Why?"
"Byleth wanted to watch something with action and," Dimitri's voice goes softer, "she said one of the main characters reminded her of me."
"Who died first?"
"The main character's father."
"How did it end?"
"They all lived in peace."
Over the course of their questioning, the three have managed to invade Dimitri's personal space, looming over him and casting three very suspicious shadows. Dimitri gulps.
"His story holds up." Sylvain shrugs, looking at Felix and Ingrid for confirmation.
"I want to know what's in the envelope." Felix eyes the paper critically.
Dimitri holds it closer to him. "It's private, Felix. Why would you even-"
"The receipt could be in there."
Ingrid nods before humming thoughtfully. "He has a point. We won't read any of the contents, Dimitri, but we'd just like to know what the envelope contains." Her eyes glue themselves to the item in question, focus renewed.
With both Felix and Ingrid looking at him like a piece of meat, Sylvain thinks it's understandable for a man as big as Dimitri to look so small.
"We won't force you, Dims." Sylvain raises his hands, a gesture saying we'll back off if you say the word. "It would just help your case if you showed it to us."
Dimitri seems to consider this because his posture sags and his eyebrows scrunch together in thought. Compared to Felix who is tapping his foot impatiently, Sylvain and Ingrid look much more patient as they simply stare at their friend, quiet and hopeful. What could be in that damn thing that Dimitri was so adamant about keeping from them?
The blond finally sighs. "Alright."
"Nice." Sylvain grins, but as he makes a grab for the paper, all thoughts of it fly out the window when his eyes zoom in on something on Dimitri's neck.
"Holy shit, is that a hickey?"
Felix and Ingrid's eyes snap from the envelope to where Sylvain is pointing.
Dimitri moves to cover the mark in question, but it's too late.
"They're yours then!" Felix accuses pointing at Dimitri and the condoms.
The envelope lays forgotten on the floor.
Ingrid moves to calm him. "Now, Felix, let's not rush into anything," she says but doesn't look completely sure of herself. She's made her own conclusions too, Sylvain can tell.
"I- this isn't-" Dimitri doesn't seem to be able to defend himself. Words escape him. Sylvain almost feels bad for pointing it out. Almost. Right now, he's too busy processing the fact Dimitri actually has a hickey. That Dimitri... does things.
Sylvain shudders. They grow up so fast.
Felix brandishes the condoms like a weapon, raising them in Dimitri's burning face.
"Admit it, boar. You and Byleth decided to get freaky," Ingrid cringes, Dimitri squeaks, "and forgot to clean up. At least have the balls to admit it!"
"Felix, I promise you, they aren't mine." The blond looks painfully sincere as he stands up. "Though, it is true we may have f-fooled around," Felix's disgust becomes more enhanced, "we did nothing like that! And even if we did, it wouldn't be here."
Sylvain winces at the implication.
They must make a funny sight, he thinks.
Three red faces. Felix holding condoms in a threatening manner. Ingrid and Dimitri with their faces buried in their hands. Sylvain... existing.
Goddess, how time flies.
One thing that does not change, however, is that Sylvain is the eldest. Might as well act like it.
"We believe you, Dims. You can calm down now." Sylvain soothes the man, but the blush isn't likely going to go away soon. Dimitri grunts in thanks anyway. "And, Fel, come on, put those down, they aren't weapons." Felix throws the condoms back on the table, as if they had burned him. "And, Ingrid, let me see that pretty face."
Ingrid kicks him in the shin before sitting back down, hands on her lap. Felix follows. Then Dimitri. Sylvain sits down last.
And suddenly they're back where they started. All four friends sitting rigid in their spots as they eye the pack of condoms intensely.
"Sylvain-"
"They aren't ours, Felix." Ingrid answers for them.
"...Fine."
Sylvain racks his head, dumbfounded. Felix wouldn't lie about these things, he's pretty sure. And even if he did, he was terrible at it. The guy's a good liar, sure, but not when it came to love and lust. Dimitri is even worse. Honest to a fault. Sylvain hadn't even seriously considered him until the hickey, but regardless of that, there is not a single part of him that believes Dims would buy these. Much less lie about them.
So had it been Sylvain and Ingrid then? On the night of Claude's party? Too smashed to remember anything, including the purchase of the condoms? Or-
"Ing, if this was supposed to be some sort of surprise for me-"
She throws her book at him.
Worth a shot, he figures as he rubs the cheek the object had come into contact with. Damn, that was a hardcover.
Who in the hell bought these then-
"What am I looking at here?"
All four heads whip around to stare at the figure by the doorway.
Claude stares back at them, looking amused. On a normal day, Sylvain would greet him with the same energy, but this is not a normal day.
"Why are all of you so quiet?"
Felix scowls. "How did you get in?"
"One of you didn't shut the door properly." The brunette shrugs, demonstrating the proper way to shut the door. Felix stares at Dimitri accusingly. "Anyway, what's got all your panties in a twist- no offense, Ingr- hey!" Claude stops mid-stride.
"My condoms!"
Sylvain, Felix, Dimitri, and Ingrid freeze.
For fuck's sake.
Claude inches closer to the table. "Damn, I've been looking for them everywhere! Had to bug Hilda for Holst to buy them for me. I was going to sneak these in Seteth's office before they went missing. I must've accidentally stuffed them in the pool noodle ba-"
The good thing about being friends with someone for so long is the familiarity.
There will come a time where you will be able to predict their movements, their patterns, reactions. One day, you're going to be able to move in sync like a well-oiled machine, so sure of yourselves and the bonds you share.
This is exactly what happens with them.
Felix yanks the condoms from the table and throws them at Claude's face. Sylvain pulls out his phone just in time to take a video of him squawking and flailing back. Dimitri quickly rises from his seat to push Claude back towards the door. Ingrid opens it before executing the final shove that sends the man out the apartment. She closes it with a particularly loud bang.
A blessed silence settles on their humble abode.
"...So what does everyone want for dinner?"
"Felix and I bought fish."
"Let's do that then. Someone lock the door. He might come back."
"On it."