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“Come on, Felix. She doesn’t bite.”
Sylvain’s playful wink has no effect on the glare Felix is leveling him with. So, standard procedure, really.
“The horse’s temperament is not the problem here,” Felix says, crossing his arms.
“Hey, don’t be like that, everybody’s sharing. You’re lucky you got paired off with me, I bet the girls are totally jealous,” Sylvain says, gesturing vaguely at the rest of their war party. The statement doesn’t really hold water; Mercedes is cheerfully patting Annette’s horse on the nose, Byleth has taken her usual place by Dimitri’s side, and Ingrid is already helping Ashe up onto her pegasus. Flayn is technically an option, but only if Sylvain wants Seteth to gut him like a fish.
Felix scowls. “Then get one of them to ride with you. I’d rather walk.”
“There’s no way you’ll keep up that way,” Sylvain argues, voice edging on a whine.
“I don’t care. I’m not clinging to you like one of your women of the moment.”
“Felix,” Byleth’s voice cuts into their argument. Sylvain didn’t even notice her step away from Dimitri until she was standing right next to them. Not for the first time, he’s glad she’s on their side.
“What do you want?” Felix snaps at her.
“I need you at the front lines, and we both know you won’t make it there in time if you don’t stay with the cavalry. Ride with Sylvain or find one of the knights to ride with. That’s an order.”
Felix bristles, but bites his tongue on whatever complaints he might have. Byleth is hard to argue with.
“Fine,” Felix says through gritted teeth.
“Thank you,” Byleth says, nodding. She gives Sylvain a glance and a slight smile, just as an acknowledgement, then steps away to return to Dimitri. Sylvain watches her go, feeling vaguely impressed.
“So… Going to stick with me, then? You know you want to,” Sylvain says, turning to grin at Felix. He gets a familiar scowl in return.
“Shut up and get the horse ready.”
There’s no real bite to the words, but something is a little off about the whole thing. Felix isn’t quite making eye contact, when he’s usually way too intense about it. Sylvain decides not to point it out; it’s hard enough to get Felix to talk about anything, let alone in earshot of Dimitri.
Felix stews in his bad mood while the rest of the camp finishes their last preparations, and it isn’t until Byleth starts putting people in position to head out that he gets up onto Sylvain’s horse. He sits stiffly and doesn’t hold onto Sylvain like he should.
Sylvain sometimes helps Manuela get the wounded off the battlefield, so this is hardly the first time he’s shared a horse with someone who doesn’t really want to be on a horse, but Felix might actually be worse than a knight with a gut wound.
“Could you just relax? You’re going to spook Chastity.”
“Shut up. She puts up with you charging headfirst at demonic beasts. She’s fine.”
Sylvain grins, reaching out to give Chastity an affectionate pat on the neck. “Yeah, she’s pretty great. I really lucked out.”
Felix scoffs.
“You didn’t luck out, the quartermaster was mocking you.”
“And in the process, I got the best horse in the stables! Seems pretty lucky to me.”
“You’re insufferable,” Felix says.
“Hey, you’ve been suffering me for years. Suffer just a bit more, would you?”
Sylvain reaches back and grabs Felix’s wrist, guiding it to his waist. He expects more resistance, but maybe Felix really doesn’t want to spook Chastity, because he doesn’t yank his hand back or punch Sylvain in the back of the head.
Instead, he digs his fingers into Sylvain’s side.
“Ow, ow, hey, no,” Sylvain complains, squirming uncomfortably. “That hurts, you know.”
“It’s supposed to,” Felix growls, but after one more vicious squeeze, he lightens his grip. There’s a pause, and then he shifts, hand coming to rest just above Sylvain’s hip. He holds on tight enough that Sylvain is very aware of it, but not enough to hurt.
Sylvain feels that grip in his stomach, a startling shock of want.
“That’s, uh,” Sylvain clears his throat. “That’s better. Your fingers are surprisingly pointy.”
“Don’t complain or it’s going to be a sword next.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Sylvain says. He normally has better comebacks than that, but that moment of arousal was so sudden and unexpected that he might as well have fallen off the horse. He takes a few breaths to center himself and focuses on the conversation Annette and Mercedes are having, their horse in step just behind Sylvain’s.
It doesn’t really work. Annette’s ideas for what they could make with the berries they picked after lunch are just not engaging enough distract him from his… other distraction. He’s normally much chattier than this.
Felix, at least, doesn’t seem to notice anything is amiss. He’s more tolerant of long stretches of silence than Sylvain has ever been, and he just leaves that hand right where he put it.
Or, well, Sylvain thought Felix hadn’t noticed anything, but after a quarter hour of riding, he digs his fingers into Sylvain’s side again. Sylvain yelps, much more surprised this time.
“What was that for!?”
“Are you hurt?” Felix asks, and while he sounds angry and exasperated, Sylvain immediately recognizes the tension in his tone. Felix is worried.
“What? No, where’d you get that idea?” Sylvain asks, confused.
“You actually shut up for once,” Felix says.
“Oh, uh. That. I’m just hungry!”
“We ate not two hours ago,” Felix says, incredulous.
“I had a stomach ache,” Sylvain lies. “It’s, uh, better now.”
“Idiot,” Felix sighs. He shifts then, turning back to address the girls on the horse behind them. In the process, he holds on more firmly to Sylvain for balance, his hand partway onto his stomach. Sylvain is embarrassingly into it.
“Hey, Mercedes. Sylvain skipped lunch like an idiot.”
“Oh, dear! Just a moment, we have some extra berries you can snack on,” Mercedes says, sweet and accommodating as always. Annette, the one actually in charge of their horse, directs him so they’re side by side instead of one after another.
“Here,” Mercedes says, handing over a handkerchief full of berries with a warm smile. Sylvain feels a little guilty, taking her food when he doesn’t really need it, but not guilty enough to give himself away.
“Thanks, Mercedes. You’re a lifesaver,” Sylvain says, giving her his best smile in response. She giggles and nods.
“Of course! I’m always happy to share.”
Mercedes settles back into her spot on Annette’s horse then, wrapping both arms around Annette in a loose hug. There isn’t a hint of awkwardness between them, and for just a second, Sylvain is fiercely jealous.
He really needs to get a hold of himself.
Or Felix could get a hold of him. That’s starting to sound pretty appealing.