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Felix thought it was strange when he noticed the professor walk up to a loose button that fell on the ground some months ago on the training grounds and pocket the dusty thing, but the way she then proceeded to sprint around the monastery grounds like a lemming collecting lost items was even more bizarre. When she returned a piece of his sword belt, he supposed he was grateful but he thought it strange that she noticed a piece of shrapnel on the ground and recognized that it fell off of his belt, and then proceeded to sprint to the dorms just to return it. Maybe days without seminars or battles were just that dull.
While she was walking away from him after confirming with him that she would throw his father off of his trail, he noticed a small ivory tube in her hand.
“Wait, what is that?”
“Hm? Oh, this? I found it on the ground,” she said, holding the tube up in plain view, “It’s a tube of lipstick.” Felix blinked. Did the professor wear makeup?
“Oh, haha, it’s obviously not mine,” she laughed dryly, uncapping it and twisting the base to show off the garish red balm inside, “I think I might know who would carry unused lipstick, though...”
“You do?”
“Don’t you?” She smiled lightly and then broke into a full sprint again, leaving Felix with his thoughts in the dorm hallway again.
Felix only left the dorms to eat today, even skipping his training. Talking to his father, who he heard from Ingrid was in the knights’ hall anyway, was not at all what he needed that day. The professor must have noticed his agitation earlier when she returned the fragment of his sword belt because she invited him to dinner at the dining hall where they were serving some spicy meat dish, which admittedly lifted his spirits a little bit. Sylvain had come, too, and while Felix was not one to talk much while eating, the older student certainly was.
“So, Professor, do you wear makeup?” Sylvain leaned forward on an elbow, fork in the other hand while he ate some more beef.
“Not really. Mercenaries don’t have a lot of use for it,” Byleth spoke very clearly and evenly, as though she had no emotional attachment to her own life and experiences.
“Ah, but you’d look so pretty in it!”
“I’m not sure if my father would have liked that anyway,” she laughed.
Felix found it agitating but intriguing that Sylvain could talk so openly — perhaps the ease and charisma came with comfort and interest. Felix wasn’t actively interested in any women, so it would follow that he wouldn’t have the patience to flirt or chat either. The occasional tea time or meal with a colleague or peer was one thing, but Sylvain flirted hard.
Often, Felix wondered what the girls on the receiving end of his advances thought about his lines, especially the ones that didn’t end up fleeing in anger or tears. For all his confidence, seeing Sylvain on his knees in Dimitri’s room and seeing him unravel between him and the boar prince brought fragments of childhood questions into a properly coalesced thought about Sylvain’s true nature. He was irresponsible and an incorrigible flirt, but even Sylvain had values. He supposed that, like himself, Sylvain hoped to earn praise for his feats, to better himself not because he is a noble and a Crest-bearer but because he has standards to surpass.
“Hellooooooo? Earth to Felix?” Sylvain waved his stupid hand in front of Felix’s face and he recoiled like a cat, slapping Sylvain’s hand and sliding away a foot or so on the dining hall bench, posture alert. Laughter rumbled from Sylvain’s chest and he threw his head back a little. Felix looked around with sharp eyes, unamused, but he noticed that the professor was gone and so was his plate.
“Where’d my food go?”
“You ate it.”
“Huh?”
“It’s like, almost curfew. Are you still hungry?”
“Uh, I guess not,” Felix grumbled.
“I have some smoked meat in my dorm if you want some.”
“I....do.”
“Then, it’s settled. Felix is officially hanging out with me!” Sylvain grinned from ear to ear and Felix could only groan, not out of annoyance but out of habit. Despite Sylvain’s levity and lasciviousness in the public square, the easy going clown he was, Felix wasn’t truly opposed to Sylvain’s company when it was only the two of them.
The two of them usually danced a familiar dance when they talked to each other alone — Felix would insult Sylvain in some shallow way, Sylvain would wave his hands and laugh it off, Felix would apologize, and then Sylvain would say something about girls and they would start over again. Sometimes, though, Sylvain would just lounge about silently while Felix oiled his swords or read some strategy books, watching him work with a maelstrom of emotions behind his deep eyes. Felix already knew that Sylvain would want to say something about how Felix behaved as a child before losing his brother, before his relationship with his father soured, but he could appreciate that Sylvain had enough sense to hold back in these tender moments. Besides, it’s not like Sylvain had it easy either for him to say things so flippantly — the Gautier house had plenty of issues of its own.
Tonight seemed like it would be one of those quiet nights, only they were in Sylvain’s room so there were no swords to be maintained and no textbooks to be read in candlelight. Felix sat on the edge of the bed in his pajamas and accepted the package of smoked meat that Sylvain handed him with a friendly “Here you go!” before Sylvain began to change into his own pajamas while Felix chewed on the meat, eyes fixed on the ground. He had obviously seen Sylvain strip before in their childhood when they dirtied their clothes playing outside or when they had finished splashing about in the cold ponds near the Fraldarius estate. He had also literally put his dick in Sylvain’s mouth and ass, so there really was no room for shame between them.
Sylvain flopped on the bed behind Felix stomach-first and rolled to face Felix’s back while he sat hunched at the edge. Felix looked over while taking another bite of the jerky at Sylvain, who was curling in to lay in a way that let him look up at Felix, who was starting to feel kind of self conscious surrounded by Sylvain in such a way.
Felix put the dried meat down on the nightstand when he had his fill and Sylvain took that as his cue to pull Felix closer, his arm snaking around Felix’s waste and tugging so that the swordsman fell back into him awkwardly, limbs sprawled wildly in mild surprise at the motion. Felix didn’t make a sound since he half expected to end up here, but he sighed and threw his legs over the bed to turn and lay besides Sylvain, who wiggled his body to make space excitedly like a child. Sylvain still wasn’t really talking, but he extended an arm out over Felix’s head expectantly. Felix lifted his head as if to inquire but Sylvain just slipped his arm below it, using the opening to lay his free arm over Felix’s waist and draw him closer, loosening Felix’s hair out of its hair ties all at once. Felix opened his mouth in protest at being rearranged but Sylvain just flashed a goofy smile and pushed Felix forward with the hand he had behind his head so they could bump foreheads, using the hand that was on his waist to brush the loose hair away from his eyes.
“I wonder what some Gautier of ages yonder did for me to have such a good friend,” Sylvain mused dreamily, his hot breath washing over Felix’s face while he spoke. Felix closed his eyes to soak in his presence.
“I can’t imagine any Fraldarius’s did anything for me to earn this either.”
“You’ve survived enough to earn it yourself.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve even helped me out not too long ago.”
“I suppose,” Felix muttered, not keen on opening his eyes, knowing that Sylvain’s intense gaze would meet his once he did. Felix shook his head and body a little, loosening Sylvain’s grip so he could turn away before the blush on his face became too deep. Sylvain obliged, but pulled Felix close to his body again once he had turned his back to him. Felix tried to look around the room instead, if only to distract himself from the unnervingly pleasant warmth radiating from Sylvian at his entire backside. His amber eyes fell on familiar sights: maps of Faerghus and flowers on the table, various notes from admirers and enemies, and....an ivory tube on the windowsill.
“That was yours?!” Felix started. Sylvain seemed to jolt in shock at the outburst but recovered quickly.
“What?”
“The lipstick! Why do you even own that?”
“Huh? Where did you even see that before this?”
“The professor had it!”
“Oh yeah, I must have dropped it somewhere. It was gonna be a gift, but I had a backup anyway.”
Jealousy crept up Felix’s ribs, lacing around his lungs like slithering snakes in tall grass.
“For who?”
“Just some girl from Golden Deer. She blew me off anyway.”
“I see.”
“Why’d ya get so worked up about it anyway?”
Felix just turned his head to smush his cheek into the pillow, forgetting that it was actually Sylvain’s bicep below his jaw. He held his position, stubbornly and stiffly nuzzling Sylvain’s arm instead of responding. Sylvain nudged his elbow up to bump Felix’s cheek lightly, his laughter twinkling in the air and breath fanning on the back of Felix’s neck. Felix relented, rotating slightly until his right cheek met Sylvain’s, hoping he was too close and too awkwardly angled for Sylvain to notice the blush that crept along his cheekbones.
Sylvain brought a finger up to Felix’s forehead, ghosting it down the bridge of his nose tenderly, touching the pad of his finger against his cupid’s bow. Felix thought for a second that Sylvain was going to try to stick the finger in his mouth but he only continued the motion, lingering over his bottom lip and then running the finger down his chin before tracing the outline of his jaw and threading his fingers ultimately into Felix’s loose hair. Felix let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding while Sylvain scratched at his head languidly. Feeling strangely like a pet cat, Felix shifted.
“You don’t look like Rodrigue,” Sylvain said, barely above a whisper.
“Really? Even I think I do,” Felix scoffed without any bite.
“I mean you share features but your face is softer, I guess,” Sylvain trailed off. Felix felt suddenly very self conscious even without Sylvain’s brown eyes boring into him.
“He says I have my mother’s face shape.”
“Maybe.”
Felix laid back against the pillow, tired of straining his neck to lean close. Sylvain propped himself up on his forearm to look at Felix, mellowed out and outstretched. Felix looked to his left, avoiding eye contact with Sylvain who was smiling with his eyes at him while he returned to absently tracing along Felix’s face, dragging his finger along Felix’s jaw down towards his neck, circling his Adam’s apple and resting on the gap between his collarbones. Felix’s eyes fluttered shut in response, his muscles relaxing into the mattress.
“Felix?”
“Mm?”
“Would you let me...do something?”
“That depends.”
“Trust me?” Sylvain’s voice sounded gravelly somehow, so Felix was inclined to acquiesce.
“Nothing too weird, please,” Felix resigned and closed his eyes again. He listened -- he heard Sylvain shuffle and move, the bed frame creaking loudly under the strain of his movement. When he held still like this, Felix could feel and hear everything -- he heard Dedue’s footsteps walking Dimitri to his room, Hubert closing his door to slip into the night and do Goddess-knows-what, cicadas screaming in the dark. He felt his clothes, acutely aware of their weight and texture. He felt the presence of a summer wind outside, though he could not feel any of it’s blessing as he heated up. He could open his eyes and look, gain footing again just by being present in the space he was taking up, but Sylvain asked something fairly small of him and he trusted Sylvain to-
“What are you doing?!”
“Hold still or it’ll mess up!”
“Is that the damn lipstick?!” Felix reached up to rub the back of his hand over his lips but Sylvain pinned his arm down.
“Don’t take it off yet, I just want to see how it looks.”
Felix was breathing heavily but he stilled again, letting Sylvain trace the shape of his lips with the pointed tip, gliding the balm on with learned motions. He watched Sylvain’s eyebrows furrow with focus while he eased Felix’s lips apart by his jaw with his free hand to fill in the space at the fullest part of his lips. Felix closed his eyes -- the sight of a serious Sylvain was overwhelming, especially in such close quarters. If he couldn’t move, he also couldn’t shrink in to hide his flushed face.
“Did you fall asleep on me?”
“No, I’m awake.” Felix looked up at Sylvain who looked just as flushed as Felix felt. Sweat was beading on Sylvain’s forehead and he seemed transfixed. “Is a little lipstick all you need?”
“You don’t know how good you look. There’s a mirror on the desk -- go look.”
Felix flashed Sylvain a skeptical glare but got up to look in the hand mirror. He felt as though he were looking at another person. With his lips painted, his whole face seemed almost feminine -- the red was not so tacky when it was applied but his reflection bore an uncanny resemblance to his mother in a way that felt unsettling. He felt delicate and small suddenly so he put the mirror back down.
“Is this all you wanted?” Felix growled.
“Hardly. I could look at you for hours,” Sylvain stood up to look at Felix more closely and his height seemed more imposing this time around.
“I don’t want to have lipstick on for hours.”
“Then maybe you’ll let me mess it up for you?” Felix scoffed for real this time but was cut short by Sylvain’s lips falling on his with all the desperation of a man starved. Their teeth clashed and Felix felt the balmy lipstick smear while Sylvain mouthed against him, working his mouth open to slip his tongue in. Felix was certain he tasted like smoked meat and felt like he was being swept away by a great breeze, grasping desperately for Sylvain’s shirt and hair just to get a grip. Sylvain used a free hand to move his chair and walked Felix back until he hit the desk, encouraging him to sit on it. Felix lifted his hips onto the table to sit and Sylavin used the opportunity to slip his thigh between Felix’s, pulling him near and tilting into him to deepen the kiss. Felix could only arch his back in response, feeling much like a girl arched and bent against Sylvain on the desk like this. Sylvain pulled away to yank Felix’s shirt over his head and Felix caught a glimpse of the lipstick smeared across Sylvain’s face as he panted, shucking both of their shirts off. Felix leaned in while Sylvain lifted his own shirt over his head to plant a kiss on the older man’s stomach, smiling slightly at the red lipstick mark he left behind. Felix pressed a few more kisses to Sylvain’s abdomen gingerly, bracing himself on Sylvain’s chest so he wouldn’t barrel forward.
Sylvain pushed his pants and smallclothes down with one swift motion, kneeling to stop Felix from continuing his art session on his stomach. Felix smiled slyly at Sylvain, those dick was hard and dark, the tip gleaming with precum in the low light. Felix dropped down from the desk to sit on the ground with Sylvain, kicking his own pants off in the process. Sylvain looked relaxed, his face completely at ease while he spread his legs for Felix to crawl between them. Felix pressed another lipstick kiss to Sylvain’s thighs and then lowered himself onto his elbows to kiss spot above his thigh where the V of his pelvis began, leaving another lipstick mark there too. Sylvain ran a hand through his hair just so that hand wouldn’t go to Felix’s body.
Finally, Felix ran the flat of his tongue around the underside of Sylvain’s cock and slowly took in the rest of it, his face sinking down until Sylvain watched his whole cock disappear between Felix’s lips. Felix looked like a mess, his hair tangled and disheveled and red lipstick smeared around his mouth and across his face, but he looked ethereal in the candlelight bobbing his head. He never really did anything slowly or with decorum and modesty, always aggressive and forward in his approach. Felix cupped Sylvain’s balls while he pressed forward fall enough for Sylvain’s cock to slide past the back of his throat, ignoring his body’s response to the intrusion by screwing his watery eyes shut. Sylvain threw his head back and grabbed a fistful of Felix’s hair, not to tug or push but to hold. Felix forced his eyes open to see Sylvain, face and neck nearly as red as his hair, breathing heavily with his eyes shut. He pulled off of Sylvain with a pop and wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand, finding it easy to forget how he must look with drool and lipstick all over his chin and hair plastered to the sweat on his forehead when Sylvain was flushed and sweating too, eyes glazed over and stomach adorned with his kiss marks.
Sylvain extended his arms out and Felix fell forward into his chest, pushing his face into the crook of Sylvain’s neck while Sylvain ran a soothing hand down his back, feather light touches making the muscles in Felix’s back jump. Sylvain waiting for Felix to wrap his arms around his neck before bending his own knees and lifting him up, letting Felix wrap his legs around his waist for leverage while Sylvain carried him to the bed. The way that Sylvain was so gentle made Felix wish he had also been more gentle, but there was no use in worrying about that now. Felix made a show of spreading his legs, letting his heavy cock twitch against his pale stomach, as if that would absolve him of the tinge of guilt he felt just then. Sylvain took the oil from his dress drawer without tearing his eyes away, noting that Felix had even shaved his whole pelvic area. He can’t imagine Felix did that for Dimitri, and pride swelled in his chest at the thought of Felix actually inconveniencing himself for his sake.
“You shaved,” he noted aloud.
“Yeah, it wasn’t much more work than shaving my face,” Felix mumbled.
“You shave your face?”
“Yeah, I get a creepy goatee like my father.” Sylvain couldn’t hold back his giggle at the idea of Felix with facial hair like Rodrigue.
“I really don’t want to think about your dad right now,” Sylvain chuckled, pouring teaseed oil on his fingers.
“Neither do I,” Felix said curtly, spreading his legs further so Sylvain could press a finger to his entrance. Sylvain slipped his finger in and worked it in further gently, admiring the way Felix squirmed at the slow pace. When he got up to a knuckle he worked in another finger despite the abrupt stretch. Felix bit back a gasp and threw an arm over his face, but Sylvain batted it away.
“You made me be honest with myself. Can’t you be honest with me tonight?” Sylvain cooed. Felix looked away but his breath picked up, the flush on his face snaking down to his chest. Sweat began to make his pale skin glisten and he seemed to glitter as he arched his back. Sylvain had curled his fingers a bit and Felix was seeing stars, the lights dancing in his vision giving Sylvain a halo in his mind’s eye.
“Ngh….wh- ah -at are you asking?”
“Just...tell me what feels good.”
“Can’t you tell?” Felix bit out before moaning unabashedly. Sylvain chuckled breathlessly.
“I can try but I want to hear you say it.” Sylvain brushed that certain spot again and Felix’s hips bucked up into the air. Felix was having none of it.
“You want me to be honest? Here,” Felix growled, abruptly rolling forward to grab a hold of the back of Sylvain’s neck, flipping him and switching their places with grace and ease. Sylvain’s heart skipped a beat and his dick twitched in response. “Oil yourself up for me then,” Felix ordered.
“But I didn’t prep you th-” Sylvain started while absently stroking his dick with his oiled hand.
“I like a little bit of a stretch,” Felix said with a smile as he straddled Sylvain’s hips confidently.
Sylvain could only hold his breath while Felix lowered himself onto his cock, slowly and steadily stretching mesmerizingly as his expression changed from one of focus to one of pleasure. Inch by inch, Felix lowered myself until Sylvain was buried in him to the hilt; Sylvain used all of his discipline not to spill his seed into Felix right there. Felix was a sight to behold -- the red on his lips and face, the blue framing his lovely visage, the yellow undertones of his glistening skin, the near-violet shade that his weeping cock had taken on. Sylvain flexed his abs and curled up to meet Felix, to cup his face and press their foreheads together. Felix threw his arms over Sylvain’s shoulders lazily and looked down and to the side, closing his eyes as he continued to adjust to Sylvain’s size. Sylvain dove in to Felix’s neck to suck a bruise into the pale skin, littering a few more nips and bruises down to his chest. Felix tugged at Sylvain’s hair and arched into his kisses in response, whimpering at the way his capillaries bent to Sylvain’s will.
“How’s it feel, Felix?” Sylvain whispered against his chest.
“So warm,” Felix mumbled back.
“Feeling ok?”
“More than ok,” Felix whispered before rocking his hips a bit. He pressed his toes into the mattress and pulled Sylvain off of his chest so give him room to bounce shallowly. Sylvain let himself fall back to lay down and watch, interlocking his fingers with Felix to give the swordsman something to balance with. Felix picked up the pace, finding a tempo that worked for him, swaying his hips in a circle on the upstroke and rolling his body forward on the downstroke to hit that sweet spot. Sylvain could only pant and praise him, his angel from the Goddess herself, as he rode him like it was their last. The world around him seemed to disappear -- there was no threat from Miklan, no Crests and no nobility, no tea, no church. There was Felix and he had lipstick smeared on his face. He felt hot, so hot.
“Felix,” Sylvain slurred, “how’s - ah - how’s it feel?”
“Gh- hot, I feel so full,” Felix breathed, “I feel so hot.”
“Good, me too,” Sylvain moaned, “You’re so fucking hot and so fucking perfect .”
“Hah, I’m really close.” Sylvain almost sighed in relief because he wasn’t going to last much longer himself.
“Come for me then, Felix. Please.” Felix threw his head back, gripping Sylvain’s hands hard enough to leave little crescent marks in the flesh. Sylvain couldn’t hold back when Felix’s walls spasmed around him, thrusting up a few times as he rode out his own orgasm into Felix. Felix slumped forward into his own cum on Sylvain’s abdomen and chest while Sylvain’s soft dick slipped out of him. Sylvain rested a comforting hand in Felix’s hair and petted him lightly.
“Feeling good?” Felix hummed in reply, the vibration sending a warm feeling fluttering through Sylvain like a butterfly.
“Want to get washed up?” Felix only hummed again, blissed out against Sylvain and ready for sleep. Sylvain rolled Felix onto his back, ignoring the way Felix’s soft whine made the fluttering in his gut worse, to wet a soft rag to wipe them clean enough to change into clothes.
“Should I carry you?” Sylvain joked once they had their pajamas on, but the way Felix looked like a sleepy kitten made him think he might have to. He heaved Felix onto his back and walked, thankfully alone and uninterrupted, to the bathhouse. He stripped them again and they soaked into the hot water, Felix allowing Sylvain to wipe the makeup clean from his face while he washed it off of his own face and body. Felix was beginning to come to again, but just enough to bathe himself and lean against Sylvain quietly. He was flushed, but Sylvain didn’t want to jump to conclusions beyond that it was the hot water causing the blush and not at all the arm that Sylvain wrapped around him.
When they returned to the dorms, Felix didn’t stop at his own door and Sylvain didn’t bat an eyelash.
The next day, Sylvain did his best to keep a straight face when he overheard Ferdinand wondering aloud about why there where strange red beeswax stains on the bathhouse towels, thankful that Felix was not around to kick him for it.