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If Sylvain knew that he loved Dimitri before the first time he saw him high, he hadn’t admitted it to himself. He’d always known he was handsome. Of course he was handsome, he was a fucking prince. As the goddess-forsaken antiquated nobility of this goddess forsaken slab of land that they had inherited from their forebears, they all fit their roles nicely in the looks category. Sylvain knew he was easy to look at; all long limbs and easy muscle, despite his disinclination toward physical exertion of most varieties. His hair tousled just so, his freckles dusted across his high cheekbones, his smile as easy as it was fake most of the time. He looked great naked, too. Somewhere back in the ancestors of Gautier, there must have been some outside blood that added a little spice to the gene pool, because he definitely didn’t get his looks from his parents. Ingrid was handsome, with her beautiful flaxen hair and fair features. He imagined how she would react if he told her this to her face and smiled to himself. Felix was beautiful; like, actually beautiful. If Sylvain was being honest, he’d realized he was bisexual thanks to Rodrigue, so the genes in that family definitely carried a noble touch. Felix’s porcelain skin and almond eyes and flowing black hair had earned him a fair number of “my little lady’s” as a child, much to Felix’s dismay. Sylvain had kissed him once, when they were children, and Felix’s first question had been ‘is it because you think I’m a girl?’ He smiled at the memory idly, thoughts easing back to the present moment as he took in the man next to him on the couch.
Sylvain was hot, Ingrid was handsome, Felix was beautiful, and Dimitri was…royalty. Anyone close to Dimitri knew that he was kind and gentle almost to a fault (especially once his meds kicked in after high school), that he spent more time thinking about making others’ lives better than caring for his own basic needs. But physically, Dimitri radiated power. Physical power, yes; his broad shoulders and thick muscles the results of a lifelong hyperfixation on fitness, but also an aura of authority. He had a deep and powerful voice that could rumble softly in his chest or be heard across the full length of a football field; the kind that sent chills down your spine.
“You’re like a romance novel cover crossed with Saint Indech,” Sylvain breathed, unaware that his internal thoughts were being broadcast. He experienced the words leaving his body on a delay; he was acutely aware of the high pulsing through his body and the feeling of all of his nerve endings pleasantly humming in contentment before he realized he’d spoken at all. When the words registered, and before his body could feel panic, his brain felt like the spinning wheel of death on his Macbook. First, he felt the heat rising from his cheeks and spreading down his neck and chest, and then he realized he’d forgotten to close his mouth after speaking. Dimitri was manspreading next to him on the couch, leaning his head back on the couch so his Adam’s apple pointed up at the ceiling, arms spread in a “T” on the lush cushions holding him up. After what felt like an eternity, a wide smile spread across Dimitri’s face, and a laugh boomed out. Sylvain jumped from the noise, a surprised gasp leaving him involuntarily before he joined in on the laughter. Dimitri brought his hands to his face, covering the heat that gathered there as he made sense of Sylvain’s musing.
“Sylvain, please,” he let his hands fall loosely to his lap, turning his radiantly blue eye to face Sylvain, “I am much too high to hear you say something like that.” His smile was huge, genuine, filled with affection. It crinkled the corner of his eye and pushed his eyepatch off of his face. A strand of hair escaped the messy bun that he wore his hair in whenever they had their “routine” days, and he gently tucked it behind his ear. He was wearing the grey Garreg Mach University crewneck that Sylvain had bought him during his freshman year, six years ago. Sylvain felt it all at once and with alarming clarity, as if he were understanding the meaning of a page he’d reread a dozen times. He was in love with Dimitri. He was twenty-three years old.
+
Sylvain was twenty-six years old now. A lot had changed in his life since finishing grad school, but “routine” days with Dimitri had gone largely unchanged. Once per month, they blocked off a day on their respective calendars, told everyone they were unavailable, and planned to spend a day being high and indulging in their favorite deadly sins: gluttony and sloth. The routine went like this: Sylvain picked Dimitri up from his apartment around nine in the morning, they grabbed coffee (venti dirty leprechaun latte for Sylvain and a venti black coffee for Dimitri) and breakfast sandwiches from the cafe that marked almost the exact midpoint between their homes, and then they headed to Sylvain’s apartment. They each brought one or two types of edibles and decided which they would start with while they enjoyed breakfast and watched an episode or two of whatever anime they were working their way through. After that, they would binge video games together, usually their co-op farm on Stardew Valley, but sometimes Super Smash Bros (for when Dimitri was feeling a little pent up).
On that day, Sylvain’s birthday, the anime in question was the series finale of The Legend of Korra. Felix argued regularly in the group chat that it wasn’t an anime at all, but they didn’t care. They took their edibles without a word and settled into the episode. Sylvain had been telling anyone that would listen for years that taking an edible on an empty stomach and eating something immediately after lead to the best and most reproducible high, and Dimitri was the only person he’d ever met who both believed him wholeheartedly and cared about his theory. By the time Kuvira and Korra passed into the Spirit World, Sylvain could feel the familiar pulse of cannabis through his veins as his body relaxed deep into the couch and the bright colors of the screen captured his full attention. Dimitri was leaning so far forward that his elbows were in danger of slipping off of his knees.
“Careful, your Majesty,” Sylvain chuckled, needing to distract himself from the way Dimitri’s back looked through the tight fabric of his royal blue long sleeve shirt. Dimitri jumped slightly, clearly snapped back to reality by Sylvain’s voice, and threw himself back on the couch. He pulled his hair out of the tight, more formal updo that he wore around his assistants and in public, and up into the messy bun that Sylvain loved with every cell in his body.
“I feel like they made this episode for us, Sylvain. The Spirit World was made for routine day.” Sylvain could hear the familiar sound of Dimitri’s routine day voice; relaxed, a breath away from laughter, focused. “The colors are insane,” he hugged himself tightly, and turned to flash a giddy smile at Sylvain before snapping his attention back to the screen. Sylvain followed his gaze to where Korra attended Varrik’s wedding and felt his heart ache, filled with hope that Korra and Asami would get their happy ending after all the bullshit they had been through throughout the seasons. He couldn’t help that despite his college reputation as a manwhore he’d always been a hopeless romantic, even when it came to shows like this one, aimed at teenagers. Whether it was Pride and Prejudice or The Legend of Korra, Sylvain loved a happy ending. Predictably, he felt the tears well in his eyes and the familiar tightness in his chest as Korra and Asami took their first gaycation into the Spirit World as girlfriends, and before he could wipe away the moisture, Dimitri had turned to smile at him, his eye crinkled at the corner as he put a hand on Sylvain’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I know,” Sylvain rolled his eyes, using the back of his index finger to wipe away the evidence of his pathetic nature, “I cry at everything.” Dimitri’s lips turned down slightly and his brow creased.
“That is something Felix would say, as a former crybaby himself. I was just going to say I always find it refreshing that you’re so touched by things like this.” He grinned, massaging Sylvain’s shoulder lightly before he bent forward to pull his Switch from his backpack.
“Like…shows meant for teenagers?” Sylvain laughed lamely to himself, “Not a very endearing quality.” Dimitri shook his head and smiled softly, as if to himself.
“Shows that have happy endings. Shows that let you see the good in characters and feel hope. And it is an endearing quality,” he finished softly, “to me, Sylvain.” Sylvain’s heart felt like it had turned to lead in his chest, as if it had slowed down to barely beat and time came to a grinding halt.
Dimitri had always been the good friend. Sylvain was unambitious and immature, Felix was angsty and antisocial, and Ingrid had never figured out the line between friend and overbearing family. Dimitri was just good. He was kind and gentle, thoughtful with his words and actions, and hard-working. Sylvain couldn’t help but think on more than one occasion that if they had lived thousands of years ago, Dimitri would have been an excellent king, in the true sense of the title. Of all of their nearly unnecessary positions, he earnestly worked to make the most of his. Hearing the compliment from the man that he loved filled Sylvain with a dizzying rush of emotion, and he felt his eyes watering once again as his heart kick-started back to life.
“Dimitri,” Sylvain’s voice was calm, despite the pounding in his chest. Dimitri glanced up at him, attention torn between his voice and the Switch screen as he loaded Stardew Valley. “I love you.” Dimitri’s lips parted in what might be shock, and his blue eye widened slightly.
“Oh,” Sylvain felt his heart stop once again, felt the pressure start to build in his chest from emotion, “well. Sylvain,” Dimitri gripped his Switch tightly, cheeks burning red, “I love you, too.” A small, shy smile graced his face as he looked back at Sylvain. He was the most beautiful man in the world, and he looked absolutely bashful as he waited for Sylvain’s reaction.
There weren’t any words in his head, so Sylvain leaned forward and kissed the man he loved. Through the gentle press of their lips, he could feel Dimitri's smile. He smiled back.