Work Text:
"You're holding it wrong," the prince remarked once again.
Sasetto sighed and lowered his sword.
"Is this truly as important as you make it out to be?" the tactician whined, shifting his shoulders as he spoke, "I can hold my own just with tomes, as I'm sure you're well aware."
Chrom lowered his eyes and chuckled. He had no doubt Sasetto knew his way around the battle, be it magical strength or his exceptional tactic skills, but when the supplies were scarce or the enemy close and strong against magic, the royal youth couldn't help but direct all of his attention to his tactician, which in its turn didn't help him concentrate on his own opponent. The man's health was of utmost importance for this campaign to succeed, and everyone could feel danger creeping at each of their step.
However the prince could not deny that it was not the campaign's success that was the biggest motivation for him to try and secure his best friend's intact limbs and unscarred fair skin by teaching him proper fencing.
Right. They were best friends.
Sasetto was Chrom's most favorite person in the world, and he didn't even try to deny it.
"You need to account for the whole sword, not just the guard," he advised, making gestures that showed the proper stance, "Consider it an extension to your arms. If you think about your hands too much, a simple blow would kick the blade out of your grip in an instant."
"I know that. I've seen Lissa try to wield Frederick's blade once," Sasetto smirked.
"I must have missed that," Chrom laughed and leaned in from his seat on the storage sack. "Was she trying to teach herself? In an attempt to help fight in the battles?"
"I figure it was something like that, yeah."
"Did she fail?" Chrom smiled.
"Was quite a sight too."
Chrom laughed again, feeling a little guilty this time, and got up from his seat. "We should probably head back to camp. The sun has begun getting down, and if I remember correctly, you're on cooking duty today," he took a few steps toward Sasetto to help him out of the training armor.
"Just a little more," the tactician halted, turning his gaze at the prince. "I think I almost got it."
Sasetto tightened his grip and swung at the training dummy with a considerable effort.
The dummy fell to the ground, but the man also lost hold of his weapon, surprised by the recoil. The iron sword fell onto the grass that had been stamped down during the long hours of training.
"Damn it," Sasetto hissed.
Chrom sighed and went to pick up the weapon and fix the dummy.
"Look, you need to stop being afraid of the thing. Yes, the blade is sharp. But you're not the one who's supposed to be scared of its edge," the prince offered. "Here."
He placed the sword in Sasetto's hand once again, moved behind him and took the tactician’s hands into his to offer stance advice.
"You hold it like this..."
He froze. Sasetto went stiff as well.
Chrom didn't think twice before he practically hugged him from behind.
"Um..." He started.
"I was holding it the same way?" Sasetto somehow managed.
"No," Chrom denied, attempting to concentrate at the task at hand. "You had your back absolutely straight. You have to slump a little in order to have maximum control."
"You never slump though?" the tactician remarked.
"I am a prince," Chrom moved his head a little so that he could see Sasetto's face and make sure his words were interpreted just as he intended them to be. "Princes don't slump."
A pause.
He closed his eyes and leaned on the man a little, moving his left sleeved arm from Sasetto's forearm to the man's leather armored chest.
"And you need to survive."
This was it.
Chrom's heart was under the impression that this exercise was harder than any fate-deciding battle.
This could not be described as a friend's gesture. If his tactician's brilliant mind somehow failed to pick up on his affections and remained oblivious to them, this was the moment he'd have to react somehow and after that, well…Chrom wasn't sure.
He'd probably get rejected.
Which was understandable, them both being me--
"I need you alive too, you know."
Wh--
Sasetto dropped the sword and twisted under Chrom's awkward embrace to face the man.
"Either of us being dead doesn't quite paint a great picture for this country, does it?" the tactician said, perseveringly looking the prince in the eyes. "I don't mean to belittle your skill as a commander, but..."
"Sasetto, we're getting hungry!" a close by voice called.
Sasetto panicked and pushed Chrom into the pile of luggage sacks, causing both of them to fall down and a few of the rolled blankets from atop of the pile to land on the pair.
"What are you d---"
"I'm not finished yet!" the coral-haired man hissed, covering Chrom's lips with his hand.
Whoever was looking for the cook was too far to hear the collapse of the blankets and soon went to look elsewhere.
The sun had almost set and everything that was not yet lit by the fires that were starting all around the camp, had been tinted with bright red, so bright that even when Sasetto rose from the prince's chest upon which he initially crashed, Chrom couldn't make out the burning red of his tactician's cheeks as the man said:
"It's not just that too."
Chrom's heart was going crazy.
"I need you to be alive. Please."
Sasetto leaned in and kissed the prince.
It was a timid kiss that didn't last for long, but Chrom's perception of time had stopped altogether at that moment. His tactician's lips were trembling and so, so soft, and it felt like he was afraid Chrom would refuse him at any moment, but why would he? Everything Chrom had consciously and subconsciously wanted was happening right in front of him, oh Gods, not only his lips were trembling, but his whole body...
Sasetto broke the kiss and inhaled sharply, shot a glance sideways, as if ashamed of something, then looked back at Chrom again. Bit his lip. Exhaled hot air downward.
Chrom looked at him, and it all started to come together. An absolute stranger he quite literally picked up from the ground insisted on coming with him on every mission, no matter how trivial or dangerous. Always was by his side, fighting with him and laughing with him as well. Sasetto knew more about Chrom than he knew of himself. At any given moment, he was giving Chrom all that he had, and while Chrom always enjoyed his company and liked being near him, it never occurred to him how much exactly Sasetto was giving.
"I love you," Chrom said in a soft voice, because that was a great way to neatly sum up everything that he was feeling at that moment.
The tactician's face lit up. He exhaled nervously and then buried his face in Chrom's chest, nuzzling between shy giggles.
"I'm not dreaming this, am I?" Chrom was having trouble breathing, and Sasetto's contagious giggles were transferring to him as well, making navigating breathing with his favorite person on top of him exceptionally tough.
"If so, lucky you! My dreams are never this nice," Sasetto said, scooting up, and kissed Chrom once again, more confident this time.