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It's a shame, Sylvain thinks, that Felix doesn't know how beautiful he is.
Or maybe it's a blessing, because Sylvain is sure that Felix would wield his beauty the same way he wields his swords, sharp, cutting, and deadly, and Sylvain would be left bleeding out on the battlefield.
–
It's a particularly hot afternoon and they're stuck in lectures. The classroom is stuffy and the window is cracked open in hopes of a breeze, but the air today is still, humid, and dense. Normally, the Professor's lectures have Sylvain's full attention, but apparently Sylvain is a weak, weak man because he's seated behind Felix today and has been watching a bead of sweat roll down the side of Felix's neck, thinking about chasing it with his tongue. Felix's hair is up, as it always is, and Sylvain imagines getting his hands in it and tugging him back and -
"-vain? Sylvain?"
Sylvain snaps back to reality as he realizes the Professor has been calling his name, likely for some time given the wrinkle between their eyebrows and Annette not-so-subtly hiding a grin behind her hand.
"Care to join us?" The Professor asks wryly and Sylvain squints at the problem on the chalkboard behind them. Usually, he’s good at tactics and strategy but the writing might as well be in another language for all he’s able to figure out. He has absolutely no idea what is going on.
“Have the front battalion go left,” Felix says instead and Sylvain nearly jumps from the way his voice brushes on his already-frayed nerves. He hopes he isn’t staring too openly as Felix continues. “They can hide in the forest while the archers in the back take down the mounted units. Once the calvary moves in, they attack.”
“Very good, Felix,” the Professor says, a small smile tugging at their lips. They return back to the lesson, but not before sending Sylvain a look. Sylvain wonders if he can pretend to faint right now. Maybe then, they’d send him off to Manuela, and he could maybe get some rest if he’s focusing on something other than Felix’s neck.
Something hits him in the head. He picks up the crumpled wad of parchment.
Pay attention, idiot, it says in a familiar scrawl. Sylvain hadn’t realized it was possible to feel any warmer.
–
After the class finally lets out, early because Sylvain hadn’t been the only one unable to keep their focus, Sylvain stumbles after Felix as they exit the classroom. Felix turns to look at him, a questioning look on his face.
“Want to go train?” Sylvain blurts out and the surprise on Felix’s face is only mildly offensive.
“You? Train? In this heat?” Felix says, disbelief evident in his voice, and Sylvain grins sheepishly.
“I figured you’d want to, and you know, to pay you back for helping me out in class…”
Felix scoffs but leads the way to the training grounds. Sylvain trails after him like a lovesick puppy. “Idiot,” he can hear Felix muttering under his breath, but it sounds fond, or so Sylvain tells himself.
Once there, Felix tosses Sylvain a practice lance, picking one up for himself and testing the weight. It isn’t his usual weapon but Sylvain knows Felix likes to change things up every now and then to keep from getting dull. Plus, there’s something about Felix wielding a lance that makes Sylvain’s collar feel too tight, so he’s definitely not going to say anything. With a wordless glance to check that Sylvain is ready, Felix strikes.
Despite the fact that Sylvain is the more practiced lance fighter, Felix has him disarmed and on the ground in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Felix isn’t even winded as he offers Sylvain a hand, pulling him up. Sylvain tries not to dwell on the way his grip had felt. Felix narrows his eyes. “Stop goofing off,” he demands. “Again.”
Sylvain tries his best this time, he really does, but Felix has undone the top buttons of his shirt to cope with the heat, revealing a few inches of flushed pale skin that send Sylvain’s mind reeling in a thousand different directions. It’s not as though he hasn’t seen Felix bare before - they’ve grown up together after all, shared rooms and changed in front of each other numerous times - but there’s something about that sliver of revealed skin that makes Sylvain weak. Too soon, he’s on the ground again with the wind knocked out of him by a thrust he really should’ve seen coming and Felix is hovering over him, a faintly worried look on his face. “Seriously? You're not normally this bad. Sylvain?” He asks and Sylvain doesn’t have enough moisture in his mouth to reply. Felix frowns, kneels, then presses the back of his hand to Sylvain’s forehead. “You’re burning up,” Felix says, scowling. “You idiot! If you didn’t feel well, why did you ask me to train with you?! Know your limits.”
Felix disappears from view for a moment, then comes back with a damp towel that feels blessedly cool when he drops it unceremoniously over Sylvain’s face, red from embarrassment (and heatstroke). Sylvain scrubs his face with it, wondering if Felix will leave and let him wallow, but then he’s being tugged back up and Felix is marching him back to their dormitories. As he’s pushed into his room and onto his bed, he attempts a weak “Oh Felix, you should’ve bought me dinner first,” and he can vividly picture the expression on Felix’s face as he spits back, “You’re a fucking moron.”
Sylvain just groans, rolling into his pillow, and somewhere in the background, he can hear Felix rifling through his things. “Careful there,” he croaks out. “A man’s got to keep his secrets.”
“Can you shut up for once in your life?” Felix growls. Something soft hits Sylvain in the face - a bundle of clean clothes and a vulneary - and Felix shouts “Drink some fucking water before you shrivel up and die!” before he storms off, slamming the door behind him.
Later that night, there’s a knock on his door. When Sylvain opens it, nobody is there, but on the ground is a tray full of food. He can’t stop smiling as he eats.
–
Either way, Sylvain has to do something because if he gets distracted by Felix on the battlefield one more time (and how could he not be, when Felix looks like an avenging angel cutting down the enemies in front of him), Sylvain might actually get himself killed.
“Sylvain!” Mercedes cries out as he barely reacts in time to throw off the rogue sneaking up behind him.
“Thanks!” He calls back, but she’s already running off in the other direction, sparks of magic swirling around her hands.
He takes care of two more bandits before heading back towards the main clearing. Up ahead, he can hear the sounds of metal against metal, sword against sword, and he arrives just in time to watch Felix behead a man nearly twice his size. Fuck, that really should not be so hot, he thinks faintly to himself as Felix wipes his sword on the thief’s clothing and sheathes his sword.
“That’s all of them,” Felix says, nodding up at Sylvain. He’s got blood and dirt smeared on his face, his hair is a sweaty mess, and he’s still the most beautiful thing Sylvain has ever seen. “You okay?” Felix asks cautiously, and it’s only then that Sylvain realizes he’s been staring.
“Fine,” he says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as strained as he feels. Felix gives him an odd look, but shrugs, and they head back to join the Professor and the others.
And if Sylvain has to run to his rooms the second they’re back at the monastery? Well, that’s between him and the Goddess.
–
It’s really getting to be a problem, Sylvain’s inability to keep his eyes off of Felix. He’s doing his best, but really, whoever came up with the idea of communal baths must have either been very oblivious or very repressed.
Sylvain had been enjoying the rare occasion of having the place to himself when Felix had walked in, wearing nothing but a towel, and he couldn’t come up with an excuse to leave because his brain had turned into cotton balls. “Hey,” was all he could come up with.
“Hey yourself,” Felix had said before taking a seat at one of the stalls, his back to Sylvain.
So here he is, praying to the Goddess for strength as Felix washes his hair. He watches as Felix pulls his hair out of its tie and it comes spilling down his shoulders like a midnight curtain while Felix suds up some shampoo in his hands. Sylvain has always been fascinated by Felix’s hands and watching those long, elegant fingers work their way through locks of ebony silk causes an unbidden shiver to work its way down Sylvain’s spine. When Felix pours a bucket of water over his head and it flows over his bare back, Sylvain digs his fingers into his thighs and wills himself to think of unsexy things like math calculations, Hanneman’s latest essay prompt, stable duty and - oh Saints, is Felix coming to sit by him?
Felix slides into the water, a soft sigh escaping his mouth as he relaxes into the heat, and Sylvain wonders if he’s died. He knows, the same way someone knows the sky is blue and that water is wet, that that sigh is going to haunt him for the rest of his days.
“Long day?” He asks, unable to stop himself. Felix hums, rolling his shoulders. Sylvain wonders what it would feel like to push his fingers into those shoulders, working on the knots he’s sure Felix has, watching as Felix comes undone. He imagines what other noises Felix would make.
“Training, not that you’d know what that’s like,” Felix quips back, but there isn’t any heat to it, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. Sylvain likes every side to Felix there is, from the prickly to the playful, but he’s especially fond of this Felix with his guard down, soft and familiar and everything Sylvain has ever wanted.
“Hey, I train sometimes,” he says, flicking a bit of water at him. Felix ignores the bait, instead leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Sylvain swallows hard as he follows the line of Felix’s neck with his eyes, tracing his collarbones, down his chest, and Seiros be, he needs to stop this train of thought before he embarrasses himself. “In fact, I think I’ll go train right now,” he stammers out, pushing himself out of the water.
Felix’s eyes open and he frowns at him. “Now? It’s almost curfew.”
“Half an hour of training is better than half an hour wasted!” Sylvain says like an absolute fool before bolting out of the bathhouse, his own towel clutched in front of him.
–
The next day in class, Sylvain makes sure to sit in front of Felix so he isn’t distracted. The Professor nods approvingly as he answers one of their questions, and he stays after to go over a magic tome before Felix can ask if he wants to spar. He even manages to sit at another table during dinner, where he can’t even spare the time to glance over at Felix because Claude starts a food fight and he has to use all of his attention to keep from getting hit in the face with a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
The Blue Lions are sent to face another group of bandits and Sylvain ends up tailing Dimitri because “Hey, two lances are better than one, am I right?” while Ashe, his original partner, follows after Felix looking only mildly mystified. On the ride home, he scoots his way in between Annette and Mercedes, pretending he doesn’t see the empty seat across from Felix. Mercedes just laughs and pats his knee.
He manages this for approximately two weeks before Felix corners him in the library.
“Alright moron, you better explain to me why you’re ignoring me in the next ten seconds or I’m kicking your ass,” Felix snarls, pushing Sylvain roughly against the wall, and Sylvain can’t help the shiver of arousal. Felix, luckily, does not seem to notice.
“I’m not ignoring you,” he lies, looking at a point somewhere above Felix’s head. Felix just growls, his grip tightening, and oh, that’s hot, that’s very hot.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Gautier .”
Sylvain’s last name has never sounded so good and he is this close to breaking, but for what it’s worth, Sylvain is very good at performing under pressure.
“Oh, did you hear that? I think the Professor is calling me, gotta go!” Sylvain makes use of his height advantage and shoves Felix aside, making a run for it, ignoring Felix cursing him out colorfully behind him.
He never said he was good at performing well under pressure.
–
Sylvain is currently hiding in Dimitri’s room because along with losing his mind, he’s also evidently lost every shred of dignity he’s ever had. Dimitri had opened his door, a puzzled look on his face when he’d seen who was standing there, but let him in without questioning.
So here he is, pacing back and forth in his childhood best friend’s room, running his hands through his hair while hiding from his other childhood best friend.
“So, why are you hiding from Felix?” Dimitri asks suddenly. “Not that you have to tell me, but I just… The two of you were always so close, you know?”
Sylvain laughs nervously, wringing his hands. And when did he become the kind of person who wrung his hands? “I’m not hiding from Felix,” he says weakly, and Dimitri - Dimitri! - rolls his eyes at him.
“Right,” he says. “And you haven’t been ogling him for the last few months either.”
“Your Highness!” Sylvain splutters.
“I am not, ah, as versed in the romantic arts as you are, but you weren’t nearly as subtle as you thought you were.”
Sylvain wonders what he would have to give up in order for the Goddess to just take him right now. Dimitri, for his part, looks mildly embarrassed as well.
“Well, I’ll just excuse myself then,” Sylvain hears himself say, and Dimitri huffs out a laugh. He comes over, clapping Sylvain on the shoulder, looking up at him with an earnest expression. Sylvain gulps.
“What is it you always say to me?”
“I’m more of an ass man, but I can definitely see why she’s caught your eye?” Sylvain attempts weakly, and Dimitri rolls his eyes again. Sylvain wonders briefly if he’s hallucinating.
“Given how much you stare at Felix’s ass, I’m not surprised,” Dimitri says dryly. “But no. You’re the one always telling me to live in the moment and enjoy myself, aren’t you?”
Sylvain’s mouth feels dry. “Is it really that obvious?” He asks, a little pathetically.
“A little.” Dimitri smiles wryly. “But for what it’s worth, I am happy for you.”
“I really like him,” Sylvain finds himself admitting quietly, and Dimitri’s smile softens.
“I know. And that’s why I’m telling you to go after him. I don’t think it’s going to end nearly as poorly as you think it will.”
“You really don’t think Felix, collector of all things pointy and sharp, is not going to run me through when I tell him I want to lick every inch of his body?”
“Maybe not if you phrase it that way,” Dimitri says in a pained voice. “Please feel free to never share those thoughts with me again.”
Sylvain sighs. This isn’t what he’s used to, confessions and feelings, especially not when it comes to someone he does, truly care about.
“Felix is your friend and he cares for you very much,” Dimitri says gently, squeezing Sylvain’s shoulder as gently as he can - which is to say, not gently at all. Sylvain bites back a wince. “Just tell him how you really feel. Without… Without the licking. Leave the licking part out.”
“I can do that,” Sylvain says, still wondering if he’s in the middle of a very strange dream.
–
Meet me at the Goddess tower at 10 tonight.
-S
–
Sylvain arrives at 9:45 and proceeds to spend the next 15 minutes wearing a hole through the floor as he tries to convince himself that this is a good idea. Felix isn’t going to come, he thinks frantically. Or he’s going to come and then he’s going to laugh in my face before pushing me off the tower.
Perhaps Sylvain should have picked another location.
“If we get caught, I’m blaming everything on you,” a gruff voice says from behind him and Sylvain would like to say he does not scream, but unfortunately, he does. Someone slaps a hand over his mouth. “Are you trying to get us caught?!”
It’s Felix, cranky and beautiful, and Sylvain sighs.
“Sorry,” he whispers as Felix lets go of him. “You startled me.”
“You need to have better awareness of your surroundings,” Felix grumbles, moving away to lean his back against the railing. “Alright, so spit it out. It’s been a fucking month , Sylvain.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Sylvain says, taking a step closer. “I just panicked, ok?”
Felix makes a noncommittal noise from beside him and Sylvain chances a look at his face. He is still the most beautiful thing Sylvain has ever seen and his chest aches with how much he wants him.
“I don’t know how to say this.”
Felix shuffles closer, bumping his shoulder into Sylvain’s in a wordless gesture of encouragement, and Sylvain closes his eyes. Here goes nothing, he thinks, sending a quick prayer up to the Goddess, the Saints, and anybody else who might be up there.
“How mad would you be if I said I was ignoring you because it got too much to be around you?”
Silence. Sylvain’s heart is racing.
“That depends on why it was too much,” Felix says slowly, and Sylvain opens his eyes, turning to look at him. Felix’s expression doesn’t betray much, his poker face as good as ever, but it’s too late for Sylvain to turn back now.
“I can’t stop looking at you,” he says softly. “Everywhere we go, from the classroom to the battlefield, all I can see is you.”
Felix frowns. “You should be paying attention to the enemy.”
A nervous laugh bubbles its way out of Sylvain’s throat. “I should be.”
Felix’s frown deepens. “I don’t get it. So why aren’t you?”
“Because of you, Felix! You’re so fucking gorgeous I can’t look anywhere else! Even when I close my eyes, all I see is you. I look at you and I want you, and that scares me because I don’t know that I’ve ever actually wanted someone before!”
Next to him, Felix is still as a statue. His eyes are wide, his mouth parted, and Sylvain wants nothing more than to kiss him.
“I don’t get it,” Felix says, his voice cracking just the slightest. “You could have anybody you want.”
“I don’t want just anybody, Felix, I want you ,” Sylvain says, begging for Felix to understand what he’s trying to say.
“You moron,” Felix breathes, reaching out to fist his hand in the front of Sylvain’s shirt. “You absolute fucking idiot.”
He yanks hard, pulling Sylvain down to meet him, pressing their mouths together in a messy, frantic kiss that is more teeth than tongue. Sylvain is frozen for a moment before he comes to his senses and kisses back, burying one hand in Felix’s hair. It really is as soft as he’s imagined, he thinks, as Felix continues to ravish his mouth. He can feel Felix’s breath in short, hot puffs against his skin as he trails kisses down his face to his neck, pausing to suck a bruise into the side of his neck. Felix moans .
“Fuck,” is all Sylvain is able to say before Felix is tugging him up again for another open-mouthed kiss. He could kiss Felix forever, spend hours learning every curve of his mouth, the taste of his tongue, and it sends a thrill up his spine to think that maybe he has the chance to. He presses Felix up against the wall, grinding their hips together, and he’s rewarded with another broken moan. “Oh sweetheart, as much as I like hearing you, we are definitely going to get caught if you aren’t more quiet,” he breathes into Felix’s ear and Felix retaliates by biting down on his shoulder. Sylvain likes that a lot more than he thought he would.
“Fuck you,” Felix hisses, even as his hips buck forward to meet Sylvain’s.
“I’m good with either,” Sylvain whispers back, absolutely delighting in the way Felix’s face immediately turns red. He starts to work at the buttons of Felix’s shirt, kissing every inch of exposed skin and following the flush down his chest. “As long as I get to have you.”
“You have me, idiot,” Felix says, somehow managing to make the insult sound fond, and Sylvain grins, his heart full to bursting. “You always have.”
–
They get detention when Seteth bursts in on them and finds Sylvain’s hands down Felix’s pants. They get 100 lines each.
“Was it worth it?” Sylvain teases as they write and Felix resolutely ignores him, but Sylvain can see the way his ears turn red and decides to chance a kiss.
I will not desecrate the Goddess’ tower.
I will not desecrate the Goddess’ tower.
I will not desecrate the
Felix kisses him back.