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“I’ve had enough of your obfuscating language. Make your point, and make it quick,” Felix sharply cuts in.
Dimitri chokes and stifles the sound he almost makes, something halfway between a laugh and a cry. It’s not like he himself was staying particularly focused on Ferdinand’s long-winded explanations either, but of course, to save the dignitary’s face, he could not simply Felix’s comment slide. Dimitri settles for an incredulous tone, hoping it is believable enough: “I’m so sorry— Felix!”
Felix glares back at him, and does not say a word. To his surprise, it is actually Ferdinand who quickly chimes in. “No, no, you do not have to scold him. I should not settle these terms without further consulting with Edelgard, and you should not be pushed to agree to anything without ample time to think on it. We did call you here on short notice after all.”
He laughs a hearty laugh, and Dimitri mentally sighs in relief that the other man seemed to take Felix’s impatience in stride. What he is entirely unprepared for, though, is Ferdinand’s next comment.
“I take no offense. I understand he may be upset that this negotiation has taken time out of your date, so I will keep you no longer. I can send you our final full written pro—”
“Our what?” Felix coughs out.
“We were not on a date,” Dimitri says in a strained voice, at the same time.
“Oh,” Ferdinand blinks. “Not before? So were you planning to go on one after this?”
His head is spinning. How is he even supposed to answer this? “We were simply going to go back to our headquarters,” he finally settles, realising too late that this statement did not refute the most important implication that was made.
Luckily, Ferdinand is more astute than he seems to be at first glance. “...Ah, am I mistaken entirely? I assumed the formal dress was for a special occasion between the two of you.”
The wheels in Dimitri’s head are turning. The events of the day are replaying in his head. He had received a call from Ferdinand earlier today, who detailed who he was and explained that while Edelgard herself is too busy to spare any time for him at the moment, Ferdinand himself was eager to meet him at his earliest convenience. Dimitri settled on, quite literally, the earliest he could make without being late. Felix had overheard the conversation, insisted on going along. Annette overheard the both of them, insisted that they dress properly to make a good impression, and (emotionally) strong-armed the both of them out of their favourite beaten and worn down coats into sleek and well-tailored suits. They arrive together, at Ferdinand’s office, looking clean and tidied up and very much not out of their own choice. He had a gut feeling they would be overdressed and was proven quite right by Ferdinand’s crisp but business casual wear, but not in a million years did he think that something like this would be the source of this particular misconception.
Most likely because Felix had realised that Dimitri is staring blankly into space during this flashback and therefore not going to have anything meaningful to say, he snaps, “Are we not allowed to wear whatever we want?”
For the record, this is entirely unconvincing coming from him. Felix looks incredibly out of place in a suit, like he wants to crawl out of his own skin without the option of having a hoodie over pulling over his head. Dimitri is not sure he himself looks much more comfortable.
Now, the atmosphere in the room has reduced even the previously unflappable and boisterous Ferdinand is reduced to giving them awkward, apologetic smile. “Please be at ease, my friends. It is wholly my fault for making assumptions. As I was saying, I will work with Edelgard to draft a formal agreement soon regarding what we discussed today, and will send it to you posthaste. Now, if there’s anything else you want to…”
The rest of Ferdinand’s words seem to blur together, but soon enough he realises that Ferdinand is offering him a handshake, and he accepts. Felix very pointedly is looking away from the both of them, as if there were much more interesting things to be seen on the wall. A dead fly, perhaps. Soon enough, the ginger cheerfully sends the two of them off.
During the car ride back, neither of them broach that particular subject. Felix has already kicked off his dress shoes, now haphazardly thrown somewhere in the backseat, and put on a ragged pair of sneakers to drive.
“Felix, you shouldn’t have interrupted him like that,” Dimitri says, though without any real sternness or bite.
“What? I wasn’t wrong. Even he agreed. Was I supposed to just let him bore us to sleep on a tangent before you sign away our souls in the fine print?”
“Yes— I mean, no, well, I don’t think it’s bad to stand up for yourself. You’ve always been excellent at that, and never cared for being too rude, but…”
Felix scoffs. “If something like that is weighing on your conscience, you don’t deserve to be our spokesperson. Why volunteer yourself for all this bureaucratic work, when your true strength is in the field?”
“I am the leader, even if only in name. Surely it’s a show of good faith and earnestness if I go.”
“Are you stupid? They didn’t send their leader either, just some loud orange guy. You could have sent Sylvain.”
Dimitri sits and thinks on this. He indeed could have sent Sylvain. He likes to think of himself as someone who is not too shabby at reading the intentions of others, but Sylvain is definitely the master among them and the most silver tongued of them all. And yet…
“It does not matter if Sylvain… that Sylvain is skilled than me. It is my duty regardless,” he firmly answers. “Besides, I don’t feel slighted that we met with Ferdinand instead. He was well-spoken and well-informed, and surely Edelgard trusts him greatly. It would be in our favour to win his.”
Felix keeps his eyes on the road, but Dimitri sees him grimace. “I can’t stand the way you think,” he grunts out after a few seconds.
Dimitri falls silent, not sure where to carry the conversation next. His collar is getting a bit itchy, and the suit is feeling tight. The thought drifts dangerously towards what Ferdinand said once again, despite his best efforts to push it out of his mind.
“Felix, are you hungry?”
“Not really. Are you?”
He thinks about asking if they could stop somewhere to eat. In these clothes? Felix would say, and the idea of stepping into a restaurant in suits would cause them to both suddenly recall what Ferdinand said, and they would both lapse into another awkward silence as they tried their best to avoid bringing it up again.
Dimitri opts to avoid this scenario in his head entirely, and settles for, “Me neither. We’ll be quite late to dinner, and it would be a shame if Ashe and Dedue’s cooking went cold, so I was wondering if I should just let Ingrid know she doesn’t have to save any for us.”
Felix does not respond, and Dimitri’s thoughts start drifting off again. Then—
The car swerves into a parking lot, one that very much does not look like the strip mall where their humble little headquarters is tucked away in, and with much confusion Dimitri finds himself staring at a bright Denny’s logo.
“Move,” Felix’s voice rings out impatiently from outside the car.
“I thought you weren’t hungry?”
“I’m not letting you use me as an excuse to skip meals. Get out of the car.”
He meekly complies, and the two of them end up sitting awkwardly at a booth looking incredibly out of place, Felix in his crinkled suit and dirty sneakers tearing into a greasy burger while Dimitri mildly picks away at his mozzarella sticks.
They eat in relative silence, but he can’t quite stop a wide grin from spreading on his face.
He thinks over and over again about this scenario that felt so mundane, that he never considered it before. Eating dinner with Felix, just the two of them. Surely they’ve done this several times, and not a single other instance has made his stomach twist into a knot the way they did earlier. He thinks about Felix happily eating meat, he thinks about Felix reluctantly holding a bundle of flowers the same way he’s reluctant to be caught feeding strays, he thinks about Felix looking at him in fear and confusion like a cornered prey animal if he ever put voice to these feelings out loud.
That night, Dimitri can’t sleep. He pulls out his phone, then shakes his head and places it back on his nightstand. A good 25 minutes later of tossing and turning, he picks up his phone again and stares at it.
Sylvain does indeed call, his voice sounding mostly amused and with just a hint of genuine annoyance. Dimitri ignores it. This is how they’ve spoken to each other for years. “It’s 2 AM… you know that, boss? I’m starting to feel that I’m the only one you get this selfish around. Should I feel flattered?”
“Thank you for your benevolence, and I’m sorry for the trouble. Are you willing to listen to me now?”
“I said I would, didn’t I? I’m really curious now, though, I was worried you were going to have me track down a lead at this hour. Or worse, pick up a dead or half dead body somewhere. What’s so urgent besides that?”
Dimitri tries to choose his next words very carefully.
“I’ve been having strange thoughts lately.”
“The boar’s been having strange thoughts,” Felix says, with no real relevance to the topic at hand.
Ingrid gives him an exasperated look. “You said you’d come help me look through these files. Not complain on the job.”
“I am helping,” he counters. He pages through a binder full of missing persons reports, clearly not as diligently as Ingrid would have liked.
“Okay, spit it out then. What fault do you find with him this time? It’s close to the anniversary of… You know how hard it’s been on him lately.”
“It’s not that,” Felix snaps back, a little too quickly. “It’s something pointless. But he’s been thinking too hard on it.”
Ingrid looks at him expectantly, as if his incredibly vague description wasn’t enough for her to make any sort of meaningful commentary about it. He frowns. Maybe she wasn’t the right person to talk to about this. He should have asked Annette, but Annette is too much of a busybody. Ingrid would understand his position.
“The other day, the Adrestian guy we met gave him weird ideas. And now he doesn’t know how to hold a conversation with me anymore.”
“You really have to give me more to work with here, Felix. You’re usually more direct than this.”
He grimaces. Woe on him for expecting Ingrid to be able to read his mind. You’d think she’d be able to after having known him for so long. “The man thought we were on a date. Or that we were dating.” The words feel foreign in his mouth. Romance isn’t something he particularly thinks of in any amount, especially not positively. “And now the boar is running circles in his mind trying to avoid any allusion to the topic for what— for my sake? Ridiculous.”
Ingrid looks incredulous. “Dating?”
Felix is starting to regret bringing this up. “If you’re going to be like this too, I’m just going to leave.” He makes to get up, but Ingrid grabs his wrist.
“Felix, wait— is that what you want?”
“Want what? I want him to stop treating me like a landmine. I’m sick of it.”
Ingrid frowns. “Sit back down. I’m not going to pretend like I understand what the deal between you two is. But if you’re going to bring this up to me and make me lose sleep over it too, you better explain yourself properly.”
Felix reluctantly sits, only because Ingrid’s knuckles are turning white from gripping him. “There’s nothing to explain.”
“There is! Like… how do you feel about it? Dating, that is. And how do you think he feels about it.”
He tries to envision himself dating the boar. He frankly can’t. But neither can he envision himself with anyone else. Much less so, even. “I don’t know. I don’t really know what dating entails, but it doesn’t sound like something I would want. And how am I supposed to know how the boar feels?”
The second part is a lie. He has known Dimitri for almost his entire life and therefore recognises Dimitri’s actions for what they are: a careful, cloying attempt to test the waters and to read him. Felix himself has been very careful to neither encourage nor discourage this behaviour, adamant to not fall prey to the boar’s sly manipulations. But the mounting frustration of watching Dimitri shrink away from him time after time again after paltry attempts to reach out has agitated him greatly.
“Well, from what you said, I can’t help but think… maybe he does want to, and he’s holding back because he thinks you don’t want to? Have you considered that?” Ingrid gives him a disapproving glare, as if he should have known better. “You’ve always been close, even though you guys fight so much. You owe him this much. Maybe you should be upfront with how you feel, whatever it may be, instead of leading him on.” After a moment, she shakes her head and sighs. “What has the world come to? I can’t believe I’m giving you of all people this lecture instead of Sylvain.”
Frustration muddies his thoughts. “Why is it my job to define for him what we are?” Felix snaps.
Ingrid looks taken aback by the outburst, then helplessly shakes her head at him. “Felix. I know you’ve always been someone to think actions speak louder than words. I don’t disagree. But some people need those words… best friend, lover… some people like the security in these words. What is Dimitri to you?”
What is Dimitri to him? Employer, childhood friend, imaginary liege, coworker, rivals, estranged… all of these words are accurate to some degree, and still all incapable of capturing wholly the nature of their relationship. To Felix, defining it almost seems sacrilegious— as if every other part of their complex history would be erased if it didn’t fit under that label.
Felix stays quiet, mostly in contemplation. Ingrid looks at him apologetically, probably misconstruing his silence for sulking. “I’m sorry. You’re both my friends, and I don’t want things to stay like this between you either. I didn’t want to put you on the spot, but you did it to me first, so it’s only fair.”
“He is Dimitri, the boar prince to me. I have been and always will be by his side. Nothing will ever change that.”
“And what do you want to be to him?”
Felix refuses to think about it. “Just someone to stop him from doing what’s worst for himself.”
Ingrid seems unsure of whether that is a positive response, but it seems to satisfy her enough at least. She sighs. “You guys are always thinking about each other. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you guys. Just don’t make it one of those disaster workplace romances, okay?”
Felix very pointedly buries his attention in the binder before him.
“Boar. I have something to say to you.” Felix glowers at Dimitri, who is busying himself by reviewing a report he has prepared for his next meeting with the Eagles.
He looks upward, his eyes crinkling as he smiles warmly. “Yes, Felix?” These days, finding excuses to say Felix’s name out loud had made Dimitri’s own heart feel lighter.
The other man looks at him blankly, and with pause. Then, he slaps down a manila folder on the desk before him. Dimitri recognises this folder; these are the colour codings they use for missing person reports.
“Anselma von Arundel. She looks… identical to the photos I’ve seen of your step-mother." Felix hardens his gaze, searching from something in Dimitri's own. "But your mother went by Patricia."
"That... is correct. But where you going with this line of thought?"
"Don't play dumb with me. You know the Arundels are backing von Hresvelg. Rumour has it that von Arundel is Edelgard's uncle by blood. Tell me, boar. Is this why you wanted to meet with the president of the Black Eagles?"
Dimitri’s smile does not falter. “It seems I cannot keep anything from you.”
Felix frowns. “You were so adamant on working with her. I used to think it was nothing more than just the scope of her influence.” There is a deep furrow in Felix’s brows, and Dimitri is sorry that he knows he is the cause of it. Yet in some perverse way, it still brings him a small joy to know he has this effect on him. “You were planning something this reckless without telling any of us.”
"I thought I knew you all too well, or perhaps not well enough. Would my friends approve of this? I was beside myself with grief in those days. I refused to believe it was an accident. I grew angry at the very thought that one of you would tell me to let it go. So I simply chose to never face that possibility." He looks helplessly at his hands. “I… I lost my whole family. I was consumed by the idea of revenge for a period of time, as you know, that being the reason I am in this profession today. I was happy, once, so I never questioned it. But the circumstances of my family were indeed strange. During my worst days, I often fantasized about stumbling across a damning lead of some sort, a sign that I could start my own vigilante crusade. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten.”
Felix's expression twists into one of displeasure. “Are you daft? Everyone acts like you hung the moon. Do know know how many people would put their lives on the line for you? If you had only asked..."
"Hung the moon? On what basis? You and I are both aware, whatever they may think, that this is not true of me." Dimitri laughs ruefully. "Have you noticed, Felix? On other days, I thought I was a clever enough man to manipulate you all. I thought of using you all for my own agenda."
"Clever? ...Hardly. I can tell your bluffs. Lying when things are convenient for you..."
Telling Felix these things feels so easy for once. He doesn't feel like he had to soften his edges. He knows, already, the depths of their relationship, that even at his worst, Felix would not abandon him.
"I know it's not something to be proud of. When I snapped out of that train of thought, I was deeply ashamed of myself afterwards. And then I would think of you doing something reckless in my stead, and suffering for it... and suddenly such a large burden felt that much smaller to me. I felt like I had to bear the truth of it all alone."
"...And what will you do with that truth? What if it turns out she and her family had a hand in your tragedy?” Felix glares at him. "If your answer is not satisfactory..."
“She is but the same age as me. I doubt she herself could have orchestrated anything at the time." Dimitri thinks back to the days he called in every favour he could for intel, the months he spent feverishly poring through every single thread he could find on the Hresvelgs; he thinks of the ten missing children, whose existences seemed to have been all but forgotten; he thinks of family and loss, and how the lone girl standing must have felt. Did she wish this upon them? Or does she mourn for them to this day? These are questions he will not know the answer to through secondhand accounts alone. He will know once he meets her. He has to.
“I wish to find out the truth myself. Please believe me, I dreamt of all sorts of morbid endings at the time, but little of it now. I cannot deny these years have felt lonesome. I cannot help but hope I could yet still find a sister out of this.”
Felix gives him a hard look. Sometimes, he didn't know if Felix liked or hated his idealistic side. Maybe it was a little bit of both. But the long winded scolding doesn't come. “I can’t ever leave you alone.”
It makes Dimitri feel warm in some ways, to confirm something he’s understood all this time, yet never dared himself to believe. “I know that now. Sylvain called me selfish for carelessly taking advantage of that side of you so much.”
This makes Felix click his tongue in irritation. “I don’t want to hear you talking about another man right now. Isn’t there something you've been dying to say to me?”
Dimitri laughs, mostly to himself. He thinks about how far-sighted he could be; how complicated and blurry his vision was when it came to those close to him, when the big picture was so simple all along. He makes for Felix's hand, and to his pleasant surprise, Felix does not bat him away. Under Felix's expectant gaze, he feels a little bolder and draws Felix's fingers closer to his face, pressing them gently to his own lips. The tips of his ears feel hot.
"We've known each other too long. I really can't keep anything from you, can I?"
When Ferdinand meets the both of them again, roughly two weeks later, he shakes Dimitri’s hand quite energetically, and barely drops his smile when Felix refuses to do the same. “It is my pleasure to see you again. Come follow me, Edelgard is waiting for us.”
As they pile into the elevator, Ferdinand makes more small talk. “You two are dressed quite well dapper! You must be conspiring to put me to shame in front of her, surely.”
Dimitri coughs sheepishly into his hand. The tips of his ears are noticeably pinkening, and likely not from the cold. “We’re actually planning on going to a dinner date afterwards.”
Ferdinand freezes. “Really!” His eyes start glimmering with interest. “You must tell me, after inviting my curiosity like that.”
Felix interjects, “That’s not relevant to our meeting.”
This time, Ferdinand blatantly ignores him. “Were you two truly…involved all this time? I really thought I was mistaken the first time, I must say.”
“Actually, the thing is…” Dimitri starts, ignoring the warning signs Felix is shooting from beside him.
The elevator doors slide open.
“...We started our relationship quite recently. Only after we met with you, in fact.”
"Is that so? Congratulations are in order." Dimitri knows Edelgard's face. She is the spitting image of Patricia, he thinks to himself, if he envisioned her as much younger and much less severe. And, she is tailed by a tall, well-combed man dressed entirely in black.
Ferdinand's face lights up. "Edelgard! As you might know, these are our esteemed guests for today. Oh, did you personally want to lead them to your office?"
Edelgard's smile is exceedingly professional, with what looks like a hint of amusement in her expression, and she offers her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet with you, Mr. Blaiddyd."
"Just Dimitri is fine, I really insist." Dimitri gives her a firm shake, and is slightly surprised by how strong her grip is for her stature.
Her gaze darts toward the space beside him. "And this is...?"
"Felix," and Dimitri feels his ears getting warm again. Maybe even his cheeks. "My partner." It makes him feel giddy to even say it. Felix himself is staring pointedly again at a much more interesting spot on the wall and doesn't acknowledge the conversation with anything more than a grunt.
“Quite interesting. Ferdinand told me I was mistaken, but I knew my spies couldn’t have been wrong,” the man behind Edelgard muses suddenly.
Dimitri is unsettled by his chuckle. "Spies?" he repeats, incredulously. Oh, he knew about the spies, and tolerated their presence in an attempt to earn some goodwill. But not that they were apparently reporting his love life to their superiors!
Apparently, Edelgard didn't know this either, from the strange look she is shooting her shadow.
Ferdinand visibly grimaces for the first time, and pushes his way past the stranger. "Hubert! Oh, don't mind him, he just likes to ruffle people's feathers for fun. Now, if you two and Edelgard will come along—"
"No. We're leaving; this place is a goddamn circus." Felix grabs Dimitri by the hand and tries to forcibly shut the elevator doors.
The more rational side of Dimitri surely would have tried to salvage the situation at hand, but the executive seems more irritated with her aides than anything. And, all he can really think about is how Felix's hand is clammy and burning hot to the touch.
