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Sylvain is bored and wants Felix to go hunting with him, but Felix is fixating on fencing training. How does Sylvain convince Felix to join him?
“No,” Felix said the instant Sylvain set foot in the training grounds, not sparing a glance as he stabbed the training dummy.
Sylvain laughed, only slightly hurt. “You don’t even know what I was gonna ask!”
“If it’s anything other than ‘can I train with you’—and I am certain it is—then the answer is no.”
“Felix,” Sylvain whined, because sometimes that was at least a little effective. “Cmon. You can’t train all the time—”
“I beg to differ.”
Sylvain sighed; he should have known better. He did know better, and yet… “I wanted you to come hunting with me.”
“What kind of hunting?” Felix asked and Sylvain perked up—hey, that wasn’t a no! “Don’t tell me that’s some sort of euphemism—you know I have no desire to flounder around town with you, chatting up women.”
“No!” Sylvain replied, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Okay, fair; he might have deserved that a little. But still, why couldn’t Felix get it through his thick skull! (Even if that stubbornness was one of the things Sylvain loved about him.) “I mean like actual hunting. The camp needs meat, I need to get the hell out of here and do something before I go crazy, you need to do something besides train until your arms fall off…y’know. It’s a win-win…win situation.”
“Nothing is ever a win-win situation with you,” Felix said bluntly. “What’s your ulterior motive?”
“Ouch!” Sylvain said. “Seriously, what happened to you? You were so much cuter when you were little. And nicer.”
“I wonder,” Felix said, voice colder than Sreng winter and Sylvain cringed, mentally kicking himself for the fuckup. He knew damn well what had happened—Glenn.
But he hadn’t meant it like that! And besides, all of them had baggage, had lost loved ones. This was a war, after all, which was why Sylvain was trying his damnedest not to lose another loved one. Even if said loved one seemed determined to train himself to death.
“You’re better off going hunting with someone who isn’t so uncute and not-nice,” Felix continued, voice a little less chilly. Though that wasn’t saying much.
“What’s the point in that? That would be way too easy and fun,” Sylvain countered, immediately hating himself for taking the bait. “Fine, if you’re really not going…I’ll go by myself.”
Felix snorted. “Let me guess: I was the last person you asked. Everyone else turned you down so I’m your last resort.”
“No!” Sylvain yelped indignantly. How had this conversation gone so wrong?! Sylvain was just trying to ask Felix on a date—er, out hunting and now, yet again, Felix was mad at him and they were nearly yelling at each other. How the hell do you confess to someone determined to pretend they hate you? “How do you take everything I say and turn it around and make it sound the worst possible way?”
Felix glanced over, a twitch of a tiny smile on his lips. “You really make it too easy.”
“So you’ll go hunting with me?” Sylvain asked, relieved.
“No,” Felix answered matter-of-factly.
“Felix!” Sylvain protested. “You’re really going to just let me go alone, into the wilderness—”
“You go into the wilderness alone all the time. We all do.”
“—where I could get eaten by a bear—”
“You’re bigger and hairier than most bears, you’ll be fine.”
“—or caught in a blizzard—”
“Which would be your fault for hunting when it’s obviously about to snow.”
“But that’s why the animals will be out! They’ll be grazing before they have to hunker down for the storm. Felix, it’s the perfect time!”
Felix’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Why are you so insistent on this?”
“I really want some meat,” Sylvain said desperately, and it wasn’t entirely untrue. “Please go hunting with me, Felix?” he asked, eyes large and pleading even though he doubted that would have any effect whatsoever. It almost physically pained him to do so but Felix was wavering and he needed just one last push, so… “If you hunt with me today, I’ll train with you all day tomorrow, I promise.”
For a split second, Felix’s eyes lit up with predatory interest and then it was gone, he was back to his cool, nonchalant self. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Let’s hurry and get this done before it snows. More.”
“Why,” Felix said slowly, his breath a puff in the icy air as they huddled together, “did I let you talk me into going hunting right before a snowstorm?”
Sylvain chuckled awkwardly. “At least we found this nice cave, huh? We can start a little fire—it’ll be fine.”
“Sylvain.”
“It’s better than the last time,” Sylvain continued. “Though I think this might actually be the same cave. Remember? You were six—”
“Of course I remember,” Felix snapped. “My mother was worried sick, Glenn laughed his ass off, and my father blistered both our behinds.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Sylvain muttered. The spanking had been more embarrassing than painful; then again, he was older and already had plenty of experience with pain thanks to Miklan—
“And besides,” Felix continued, ignoring him. “You bring it up all the time. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to,” he finished, slightly petulant.
“Does it bother you?” Sylvain asked. “Being alone with me?”
“Of course not,” Felix bristled angrily, cheeks pink from the cold. “A-and I guess if I’m going to be stuck in a blizzard, it might as well be with a human furnace. Though anyone else would have taken no for an answer,” he grumbled.
Sylvain huffed a sheepish laugh. “I wanted to spend time with you.”
Felix frowned, confused. “But we’re all—”
“Just you,” Sylvain clarified softly.
Felix blinked back at him. “Oh,” he said, looking away.
‘Oh’? What kind of reaction was that? Well, not the worst possible reaction, Sylvain supposed. Not exactly ideal but then again what had he expected? Felix was hardly subtle; if he’d even been the slightest bit interested he probably would’ve just marched up to Sylvain and grabbed him by the crotch or something. That seemed like something Felix would do but unfortunately that had very obviously not happened already which is how Sylvain ended up in a cave in the middle of a blizzard kind of almost-confessing and getting a response colder than the snow drifting outside.
Nothing helping it, he figured.
“You know, if you’re cold, feel free to scoot closer to the—what was it? Human furnace?” Sylvain teased. Might as well try to salvage what he could with levity. And he really didn’t want Felix freezing to death.
“Of course I’m cold, it’s a blizzard,” Felix sulked, though he didn’t move any closer, instead hugging his knees to his chest. “You always talk about the past. I hate it.”
“Sorry?” Sylvain offered uncertainly. “I—I didn’t realize it was that big of a deal. Though I guess those memories mean more to me than to you; I played them over and over to get me through hard times: Miklan, Sreng—”
“You always bring up how I’m ‘not cute’ or ‘not nice’ like I was when I was little—I hate who I was when I was little. Weak and naive and childish—”
“You were a child, being childish is normal!”
“Well I despise it.”
“I loved little you!” Sylvain blurted. “Well, I mean, I love big-you, too…though, I mean, big you is still kinda little compared to me—”
“You must have a death wish,” Felix said coolly.
Sylvain laughed awkwardly. “Well, no, but, um…well, wait—because I called you little or because I said I love you? Because, I mean, you can’t really get mad about the little thing, it’s an objective fact, right? You are physically smaller than I am. Though, I guess, well. The other is objective fact, too—I do love you. A-a lot. A ridiculous amount, really. I—I guess you can get mad about that if you really want, though I wish you wouldn’t. I’d honestly prefer you’d be at least a little happy about that, even if you don’t feel the same, which since you kind of just threatened to kill me—”
“Killing you is definitely looking like the smartest solution,” Felix growled, kissing him.
“I can’t believe you confessed to me in a fucking cave,” Felix grumbled once they’d parted some time later.
“Speaking of a fucking cave, I know a great way to warm up,” Sylvain said with a smirk.
Felix snorted. “Hardly. You picked the absolute worst place to try and get me out of my clothes.”
“Oh?” Sylvain said, sucking along Felix’s neck. “Where would be the best place to try and get you out of your clothes, then? If you don’t mind me asking? Please don’t say the training grounds. Although, if that’s what it takes, I’m not opposed. Poor Dimitri will have a heart attack if—when—knowing him, it’s when—he finds us, but getting you naked would be worth a little regicide—”
“I’ve somehow—against my better judgment—ended up sitting in your lap, straddling you, and you’re talking about Dimitri? Do you really have no sense of self-preservation?”
“O-obviously not,” Sylvain admitted, snugging his grip a little tighter on Felix’s hip to convey his straddling was supremely appreciated and he should definitely stay exactly where he was. “But, I mean, if anyone can shut me up, it’s you. And I mean by kissing, not by stabbing, in case that wasn’t abundantly clear—”
“I’m not so sure it won’t take both,” Felix said, kissing him again
“Sylvain!” Annette said excitedly once they returned to camp.
“Ah, Annie—” Sylvain panicked. “Now is not—”
“Did it work?” Annette plunged on. “The blizzard spell you wanted? If we can perfect magicking the weather in pinpoint locations like that, I think it’ll really turn this war arou—” She stopped mid-word, cringing slightly as she caught sight of Felix. “Heyyy, Feli—gyerk,” she finished with a strangled sound, eyes wide at the substantial purple hickey on Felix’s neck.
Or maybe it was the several less-substantial ones, it was hard to tell.
“Blizzard spell?” Felix asked ominously, eyebrow raised at Sylvain.
Sylvain smiled nervously. “Felix, I can explain—”
“Blizzard. Spell.” Felix repeated, even scarier.
“Whoops, I gotta go!” Annette babbled. “Talk to you later, Sylvain. Um. Maybe. If you’re still, uh…alive.” Once she scampered far enough away to be safely out of striking range, she turned and yelled loudly enough for the whole camp to hear, “And congratulations!”
Several heads turned in their direction but Felix was still shooting daggers at Sylvain. Metaphorically.
For now, anyway.
“Sylvain.”
Wasn’t exactly the way Sylvain wanted to hear Felix say his name right before he died but beggars couldn’t be choosers, he reasoned.
“Is…is this a bad time to ask if you wanna hit the training ground? Get naked, commit a little regicide?” Fuck, Felix was right: he had no sense of self-preservation at all.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” a comically concerned, very familiar, very Blaiddyd-y voice asked from behind Sylvain.
“Di—!” Sylvain half-shrieked. “Dimitri! Didn’t see you, uh, there…no, you know what, I forgot, I’m—Annette and I were working on something super important, we need to go discuss it. Immediately and at length. So I’m gonna, uh, go. See you later, Dimitri—uh, I mean, Your Highness. And, um, see you later—” He ducked in, brushing a quick kiss to the corner of Felix’s mouth (just in case this was the last one ever got) and flashed a wink and a grin. “Felix.”
By some miracle he barely jumped back in time to avoid the punch to his ribs (though Felix did land the kick to his shin) and jogged off with a laugh.
“I’m happy for you,” Dimitri said sincerely, though he didn’t hide his amused smile.
“Don’t be,” Felix groused. “I’m not.”
Dimitri huffed a laugh. “Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll tell everyone to stay well away from the training grounds this afternoon.”
Dimitri did not bother dodging the punch to his ribs.