Work Text:
Ingrid didn’t think anything of the message. Sylvain had texted her. That was a completely normal occurrence between the two of them and since she was kind of in a groove with her work, she ignored the message in favour of continuing to work on the paper she was reviewing.
After about an hour, Ingrid finished her work and picked up her phone. Sylvain’s text was still the first notification on her home screen and Ingrid stared at the tiny preview image. She thought that she knew what it was, but it didn’t make sense. She held her breath and unlocked her phone, pulling up the conversation.
Sure enough, the photo was exactly what she thought it was.
Sylvain was wearing black joggers that hung low on his hips and nothing else. His chest and abs were on full display, paired with the v-line of muscles around his hips. Ingrid blinked dumbly at the photo and locked her phone, placing it face down on her desk for a minute. She waited a full second, her heart pounding in her ears before she unlocked her phone again.
The photo hadn’t disappeared and if anything, Ingrid was slightly more flustered by it this time. It wasn’t like she didn’t know Sylvain was attractive, she just usually wasn’t on the receiving end of his flirty words and actions. He especially didn’t send her photos like this. There was no accompanying message to the photo so Ingrid sighed, bracing herself to go talk to Sylvain.
She exited her room and walked down the hall. Sylvain’s door was open and she pushed it open, stepping into his room. Sylvain lowered his book away from his face and waved to her. He was lying back on his bed and he rested the book against his chest. He was wearing a teal shirt with the black pants from the photo and Ingrid put a hand on her hip, fixing him with a hard look.
“What the fuck did you text me, Sylvain?”
He blinked, looking surprised. “I texted you?”
Realization dawned on Ingrid and she smiled. “You might have.”
Sylvain frowned. “I haven’t texted you today,” he said, sounding certain.
Ingrid laughed at him and grabbed his phone from his desk, tossing it across his room towards him. Sylvain snatched it out of the air and Ingrid didn’t stick around to see his reaction. She walked out of his room towards the living room, letting her mind wander to what snack she might find in the kitchen before dinner.
There was a thudding noise behind her and Ingrid smirked to herself. Sylvain’s door banged open and she heard him dash into the hallway behind.
“Holy shit, Ingrid, no that was absolutely not meant for you, I’m so sorry!”
She turns back to him, rolling her eyes. “I gathered as much, Sylvain.”
He scratched the back of his head and his shirt rode his stomach at the action. Ingrid’s stomach warmed at the flash of skin she caught and she quickly turned away from Sylvain so that she didn’t blush.
“I’ve already deleted it,” she lied quickly and continued en route to the kitchen.
Sylvain followed behind her, looking sheepish. “Any chance I’ll be able to convince you to bleach it from your memory?”
She laughed. “Oh come on. You’re clearly not embarrassed. I’ve totally seen worse too,” she pointed out and Sylvain considered her point.
She wasn’t wrong. Sylvain did occasionally walk shirtless around the apartment, usually citing the fact that he was too hot. Felix gave him shit for it most of the time, but Ingrid was basically immune to Sylvain’s stupidity by this point. The picture really shouldn’t have fazed her, but it’s the context of it that had her feeling a bit flustered.
“Still, not exactly the right thing for our working and living relationship,” Sylvain continued, still trailing her as they walked into the kitchen.
Ingrid opened the fridge and pulled out a container with some leftover soup in it and placed it down on the counter. She turned back to Sylvain and smirked at him.
“I mean, maybe I could be persuaded to forget if you tell me why, exactly, you were sending someone that photo?”
Sylvain slid onto a barstool and dropped his head to the countertop. “Ingrid, why are you so mean to me?”
She rolled her eyes again. “I’m teasing, Sylvain, I’m not being mean. You did walk yourself into this one,” she pointed out.
He rested his chin against his hands and stared at her. “Why do you want to know?” he asked, turning it back on her.
Ingrid blinked, taken aback. She doesn’t really have an answer other than curiosity, but that obviously wasn’t going to be good enough for Sylvain who was now looking at her with a surprisingly smug expression considering how embarrassed he had been only moments ago.
She narrowed her eyes at him and stared him down, but Sylvain just grinned wider.
“You think I’m hot,” he said victoriously.
Ingrid huffed and turned to pour her soup into a bowl. She caught a drip of the soup on her finger and flicked it into the sink to save the countertop. She put the lid back on her soup and opened the fridge, putting the rest of it back.
“Whatever,” she said to Sylvain, ready to drop the conversation.
Sylvain was silent as she put her bowl into the microwave, covering it with a paper towel and then starting a 2-minute countdown. Ingrid turned back to him, leaning back against the stove. He was still studying her and she raised an eyebrow.
“It was just for some girl,” he admitted after a moment. “A date I was supposed to go on last week that I cancelled in favour of attending Ashe’s birthday party. She was giving me shit about it and I thought that might make up for it.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes. “So a thirst trap to keep a girl interested in you. Typical.”
She almost regretted saying what she said because it had been a bit harsh, but Sylvain just shrugged. He didn’t look offended, so she relaxed as the microwave beeped behind her.
“Ingrid,” he pestered. “You did delete it, right?”
She turned back to him, holding her soup and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”
Sylvain stared at her. “You stole my hoodie and held onto it for years. How am I supposed to trust you with photos of me?”
Ingrid put her bowl down on the counter and smacked herself in the face lightly. “Sylvain, please, choose your words more wisely.”
He furrowed his brows for a minute before he burst out laughing. “Come on, Ing, get your mind out of the gutter! I thought that was supposed to be my job!”
Ingrid huffed. “You’re ridiculous, but yes, I deleted the photo, Sylvain.”
He leaned back in the chair, smirking. “Okay, okay.” He paused and Ingrid picked up her soup again, sticking her tongue out as she walked into the living room, sinking into the couch carefully without spilling her soup.
She stirred her spoon through the liquid, watching steam drift off the top. She stole a glance back at Sylvain only to see that he was walking towards her, holding a glass of water and a serviette. He dropped the serviette on top of her head and dropped into the armchair next to her.
Ingrid pulled the napkin off her head. “Thanks,” she muttered sarcastically.
Sylvain grinned at her. “Hey, I’m actually being helpful for once.”
Ingrid laughed. “Yeah, helpful is a word for it.”
Sylvain winked and picked up the TV remote, turning the TV on. It turned on to the Cooking Channel and Ingrid shoved a mouthful of hot soup into her mouth. She swallowed and then frowned, staring at the cake that the baker on the screen was icing.
“Now I want cake,” she complained.
Sylvain pointed the remote at her and mimed clicking the off button. “Oh, it looks Ingrid Vision is stuck on. I guess we’re going to have to get cake later.”
Ingrid frowned around another bite of soup. “It’s a nice-looking cake!” she defended.
Sylvain chuckled. “Yeah, it is, but you are literally eating food right now while talking about wanting more food.”
Ingrid shrugged, taking another bite of soup. “Do you remember when we were kids and what we promised we would do after graduation?”
He reclined in the chair, flipping his feet onto the ottoman. “I think we said we would go on some kind of culinary world tour, didn’t we? So much for that idea.” He waved towards the wall that had a picture of them, Felix, and Dimitri posing in front of the university’s sign. “Life kind of has something to say about that.”
“I dunno, I mean we are friends with Ashe and Dedue. They’re good enough cooks to compensate for the food part of the journey we’re missing.”
Sylvain gasped in fake outrage. “But, Ingrid, the journey is the whole adventure! How dare you disrespect the old Faerghan tradition of saying “Fuck you!” to over-controlling parents and just disappearing off to enjoy some really good food and some new sights.”
Ingrid smiled. “Yeah, yeah, well I think I’ve changed my mind about wanting to go travelling with you.”
Sylvain blinked at her, looking almost hurt. “What? Why?”
She eyed her phone where it sat on the couch next to her with a smirk. “I dunno. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that you sent me a thirst trap while trying to send it to someone else. I don’t know if I can handle being around someone who’s bad at technology. What if there’s an emergency?”
Sylvain smacked himself in the forehead. “Ingrid, come on, we’re trying to forget the photo.”
“No, I’m going to laud this one over you for a little while. It’s the least you can let me do with how many psycho girls you’ve brought back here.”
Sylvain sighed. “I’ve stopped coming back here, haven’t I?”
“Doesn’t make the ones you have brought back in the past any fewer in number,” Ingrid refuted, taking another bite of her soup.
She had finished the bowl quickly and with the TV still playing in the background, she found herself still hungry and not for anything that she had in the fridge. The screen had moved on from showing cakes to another baker who was working on an absolutely delicious-looking display of donuts.
“Ooh, donuts,” Ingrid said, leaning forward to place her now-empty bowl on the coffee table. “I could go for donuts.”
“Call Felix,” Sylvain suggested. “Maybe he can grab some on his way home.”
“Hmm,” she considered, tapping her chin. “Or maybe I can make you go get them for me.”
“What? Why would I go get the donuts?”
“Thirst trap,” she said, drawing the words out.
Sylvain stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “No,” he said. “You wouldn’t.”
Ingrid blinked at him innocently for a moment, but she let her hand creep across the couch to her phone. “I wouldn’t what?”
“Ingrid,” Sylvain warned. “Please tell me you didn’t lie to me earlier.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ingrid said, but she knew her jig was up.
She sprung up from the couch and tried to make for her room, but Sylvain jumped up at the same time and, unfortunately for her, he had long arms so he was able to snag the back of her top before she could disappear. His jerky motion unbalanced them both and they went crashing down to the floor in a pile of limbs.
Sylvain rolled on top of Ingrid, trying to grab her phone while she laughed wildly, keeping it out of his reach. He managed to grab her right hand and pin it up by her head while his right hand chased her left hand and her phone around in frantic circles. He was laughing too, but that didn’t stop him from trying to grab the phone.
Ingrid, in a last, desperate act, shoved her phone down the front of her shirt and Sylvain stopped himself just short of straight-up grabbed her boob. He huffed and stared down at her. Before either of them could say anything, the front door to their apartment opened and they both awkwardly looked over as Felix let himself inside.
Felix paused, stared at them where they were wrestling on the floor and just sighed, walking into the kitchen.
Ingrid wriggled free of Sylvain’s grip and rolled him onto his back, sitting on his stomach victoriously. She grinned down at him.
“I still have the photo,” she whispered to him.
She wasn’t going to tell him the reason why she still had it. He just got to be embarrassed about it for a little while longer.