Sylvain shakes his head when Felix once again mentions wanting to leave, whether or not he actually realizes he even does it is debatable. Not wanting to leave without him is... a nice sentiment but that doesn't change the fact that Felix is trying to find a way to leave and Sylvain... wants to stay.
"But you can't know that... You can't be sure we'll both go. And...," He shakes his head again, scoffing softly in a bitter laugh, "And now I'm holding you hostage here. Where you don't want to be."
He's not sure how they can see eye to eye on this but maybe it doesn't matter as much as either of them thinks it does.
"I... maybe this doesn't really need to be a thing until we come to it, hm? I know where you stand, you know where I stand..."
Felix looks up again, exasperated but no longer angry. "Oh, please. You're not 'holding me hostage.' My decisions are my own. Given the choice, I would rather be here with you than anywhere else without you. And I don't want you to have to return to your father's house any more than you do. I want you with me."
Which...may, perhaps, give Sylvain an inkling of what Felix has long wished would happen back in Fodlan, since it's the only way those two desires make sense together.
"Maybe it won't be my choice who goes and who stays, but in that case, what either of us wants doesn't matter anyway."
He nods. "You're right. It doesn't. Who knows - I'm not usually one to change my mind, but if someday we do have that choice, perhaps things will have changed by then."
Because in truth, if it weren't for the Augur's constant meddling and taking away their autonomy - if they weren't treated like recalcitrant prisoners and forced to do things they otherwise never would - Felix really wouldn't have any reason to leave.
Hmm probably just an eye, right? I'm pretty sure you'd prefer me to keep both my hands, Fe. [He teases unabashedly, smirking as he runs his hands up Felix's thighs before smoothing down the frills of his dress.
His grin widens at Felix's indignation, scolding him for wanting to be able to see him from every angle this time. Feeling Felix's heel dig into his back only makes him laugh as he leans further over, one of his hands cupping the side of Felix's face so he can tilt it and drag his tongue up his neck.]
I can't promise no stupid faces - you'll be able to see me in the reflection. Now c'mon. [Grinning, he straightens up and wraps his arms around Felix to hoist him off the table and carry him into the bedroom. The full length mirror in the bedroom seemed like it'd be perfect. Sure, they'd both have to stand the whole time but Felix could rest his arms against the wall on either side of the mirror. It'd work. They'd figure it out. Sylvain had confidence in them.
For now though, they can start on the bed. He unceremoniously dumps Felix onto the bed. The stockings are way too distracting and he once again trails his fingers over the sheer fabric, lifting one of his legs so he can press a kiss to his ankle and calf before crawling forward, slipping a hand under his skirt to palm him delicately.]
[Felix has to admit that there's something weirdly appealing about having Sylvain's hands on him with the stockings on. Why, he has no idea.
He makes a faint noise at the back of his throat at the warm wetness along his neck and - perhaps strangely - doesn't protest when Sylvain scoops him up to carry him. Normally he'd put up at least some token resistance, just to say he did. This time, he just wraps his arms around Sylvain's neck and busies himself with nipping at his earlobe until he's dropped onto the mattress.
Once there, though, he pushes himself back up to his elbows and glares at Sylvain in challenge. He hates being a passive participant. Still, those lips feel good on his leg against the smoothness of the stockings, and his head tips back with a quiet hum as Sylvain touches him under the skirt.]
His birthday was always a strange day where he both felt overwhelmed in the best way by how many people seemed to want to seek him out to wish him a happy birthday and maybe even show their affection through a gift and also felt abysmally empty as he wondered how many of them were only doing that because of his nobility or, worse yet, his crest. For most of the day, he found himself with the same vapid smile that he'd practiced to perfection when he was a child - gracious, charming, and completely empty.
He'd needed a little break though. An escape, just for an hour or so, so he'd headed to the one place people would be least likely to look for him at - the training ground. It's also just after noon, not only have people just eaten and are less likely to want to train at the moment, but the sun is in a position that shines down on most of the training area, making it the hottest and thus worst time of day to want to train.
With a quiet sigh, he finds a nice place to sit in the shade and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on nothing but his breathing, nice and even and calm and slow.
for Felix (bestswordmaster)
Sylvain shakes his head when Felix once again mentions wanting to leave, whether or not he actually realizes he even does it is debatable. Not wanting to leave without him is... a nice sentiment but that doesn't change the fact that Felix is trying to find a way to leave and Sylvain... wants to stay.
"But you can't know that... You can't be sure we'll both go. And...," He shakes his head again, scoffing softly in a bitter laugh, "And now I'm holding you hostage here. Where you don't want to be."
He's not sure how they can see eye to eye on this but maybe it doesn't matter as much as either of them thinks it does.
"I... maybe this doesn't really need to be a thing until we come to it, hm? I know where you stand, you know where I stand..."
no subject
Which...may, perhaps, give Sylvain an inkling of what Felix has long wished would happen back in Fodlan, since it's the only way those two desires make sense together.
"Maybe it won't be my choice who goes and who stays, but in that case, what either of us wants doesn't matter anyway."
He nods. "You're right. It doesn't. Who knows - I'm not usually one to change my mind, but if someday we do have that choice, perhaps things will have changed by then."
Because in truth, if it weren't for the Augur's constant meddling and taking away their autonomy - if they weren't treated like recalcitrant prisoners and forced to do things they otherwise never would - Felix really wouldn't have any reason to leave.
also for Felix (bestswordmaster)
Hmm probably just an eye, right? I'm pretty sure you'd prefer me to keep both my hands, Fe. [He teases unabashedly, smirking as he runs his hands up Felix's thighs before smoothing down the frills of his dress.
His grin widens at Felix's indignation, scolding him for wanting to be able to see him from every angle this time. Feeling Felix's heel dig into his back only makes him laugh as he leans further over, one of his hands cupping the side of Felix's face so he can tilt it and drag his tongue up his neck.]
I can't promise no stupid faces - you'll be able to see me in the reflection. Now c'mon. [Grinning, he straightens up and wraps his arms around Felix to hoist him off the table and carry him into the bedroom. The full length mirror in the bedroom seemed like it'd be perfect. Sure, they'd both have to stand the whole time but Felix could rest his arms against the wall on either side of the mirror. It'd work. They'd figure it out. Sylvain had confidence in them.
For now though, they can start on the bed. He unceremoniously dumps Felix onto the bed. The stockings are way too distracting and he once again trails his fingers over the sheer fabric, lifting one of his legs so he can press a kiss to his ankle and calf before crawling forward, slipping a hand under his skirt to palm him delicately.]
no subject
[Felix has to admit that there's something weirdly appealing about having Sylvain's hands on him with the stockings on. Why, he has no idea.
He makes a faint noise at the back of his throat at the warm wetness along his neck and - perhaps strangely - doesn't protest when Sylvain scoops him up to carry him. Normally he'd put up at least some token resistance, just to say he did. This time, he just wraps his arms around Sylvain's neck and busies himself with nipping at his earlobe until he's dropped onto the mattress.
Once there, though, he pushes himself back up to his elbows and glares at Sylvain in challenge. He hates being a passive participant. Still, those lips feel good on his leg against the smoothness of the stockings, and his head tips back with a quiet hum as Sylvain touches him under the skirt.]
Why am I a cat maid?
birfday boi
He'd needed a little break though. An escape, just for an hour or so, so he'd headed to the one place people would be least likely to look for him at - the training ground. It's also just after noon, not only have people just eaten and are less likely to want to train at the moment, but the sun is in a position that shines down on most of the training area, making it the hottest and thus worst time of day to want to train.
With a quiet sigh, he finds a nice place to sit in the shade and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on nothing but his breathing, nice and even and calm and slow.