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"Felix, are you ok in there?"
Felix resolutely ignores the knocking on the door as he stares at his reflection in the floor length mirror. It feels like someone else is staring back at him. This is fine, he tells himself. Hilda and Annette take each other lingerie shopping all the time and they're not dating. He’s fairly certain they take Ashe with them as well. If he can't do this sort of thing with his childhood best friend, well, who else is there to ask? This is totally fine.
Just two bros being bros , he thinks half hysterically to himself. As he opens the door, he barely bites down a yelp when he runs into Sylvain standing on the other side.
"What the hell," he gasps, stepping back. Sylvain, for his part, is looking mildly sheepish.
"You'd been in there for so long that I was starting to worry something actually happened," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, and damn if that quiet voice doesn't do something to Felix's insides that he'd rather not mull over when he's about to parade about in lingerie that he'd bought for his boyfriend, who is absolutely not Sylvain, for Valentine's Day.
It's not as though Felix is a Valentine’s person. Any holiday that comes with that amount of chocolate and stupid notions of romance should be illegal, but Ferdinand seems to appreciate the day enough and plus, he’s been off lately. More sad than usual. Felix isn't usually good with his words, so he’d gone for the next best thing, which in this case is attempting to follow up on an off-handed comment his boyfriend made the other day as they were walking past a storefront display.
"If you laugh, I will gut you and throw your body to the wolves," Felix snarls, wrapping the sweatshirt around himself even tighter. Belatedly, he realizes it's one of Sylvain's, and he doesn't think he’s imagining the way Sylvain's eyes drop to the hem where just the barest hint of a silky garter strap is peeking out.
"I won't laugh," Sylvain promises with much more sincerity than the situation probably merits. If Felix wasn't about to jump out of his own skin, he'd appreciate it.
"Fine," Felix grumbles, and follows Sylvain down the crowded hallway to their living room because it feels way too intimate in his room. They've been living together since Felix graduated high school, which is long enough now that Felix doesn't even want to consider it in terms of years. It's evident in the elements of the two of them scattered around the space - Felix's antique sword collection displayed proudly on the far wall, Sylvain's travel knick knacks on the shelves, and the frankly ridiculously large fleece blanket Sylvain had gotten for Felix last Christmas that Sylvain uses more often than he does. Sylvain settles himself on the couch, pulling the blanket into his lap and making himself comfortable as he patiently waits for Felix. Felix stands awkwardly in front of their coffee table, a death grip on the hoodie, and his bare legs are freezing despite Sylvain insisting on keeping the apartment at a balmy 72 degrees throughout the winter.
"I won't laugh," Sylvain repeats, much softer this time, and Felix grumbles before he finally shrugs the sweatshirt off his shoulders and lets it fall around his ankles. He stares resolutely at the ground, unwilling to see what kind of face Sylvain is wearing, and clenches his fists at his sides. There is a moment of awkward silence.
"So?" Felix grits out, and Sylvain lets out a choked noise that is definitely not a laugh. Felix chances a look up and sees that Sylvain is... staring. There's a slack jawed expression that Felix has only seen on him a few times, and Felix lets himself relax just a fraction. Sylvain makes a vague gesture and a sputtering noise before he gets up and takes a step towards him. Felix frowns. It isn’t like him to be so tongue-tied. "What?"
"I - you - can I?" Sylvain points at his arm, where Felix has gotten one of the absurdly lacy and complicated bits all twisted up. Felix nods, turning so Sylvain has better access. Sylvain fixes it wordlessly, his fingertips skimming the surface of Felix's skin lightly, and Felix can feel the goosebumps breaking out in their wake as Sylvain adjusts a strap that goes all the way down to the middle of his back. It snaps slightly against his skin. Sylvain pauses for a moment, and then guides Felix to face him again with a gentle hand on his hip that Felix is most definitely not going to think about for the rest of the night. They lock eyes, Sylvain's dark gaze to Felix's wide-eyed and half crazed one, and for a wild moment, Felix thinks he might kiss him. Then Sylvain clears his throat.
"Ferdinand is a lucky man," he says instead of kissing him, and Felix doesn't know what to do with the empty feeling of disappointment that wells up inside of him.
"So it doesn't look stupid?" He demands and finally, Sylvain laughs.
"Stupid? Oh goddess, if he thinks it looks stupid, I'm coming over to beat him silly," Sylvain grins at him, that Iopsided, crooked grin that makes Felix's stomach do gymnastic feats capable of winning an Olympic gold. "You look, uhm, great."
"Great?"
"More than great! Like, like, super great, incredible, you-could-step-on-me-and-I'd-ask-for-more great." Sylvain is blushing faintly and if it doesn't make Felix feel some kind of way to have silver-tongued skirt-chasing Sylvain stammering like a schoolboy in front of him. Sylvain's hand is still on his hip. It slides lower and Felix nearly falls over. Sylvain fiddles with the loose suspender hanging from the garter belt. "Is, uhm, anything going with these?"
His voice is deep and husky, and Felix is desperately trying not to think about it in another setting as he suddenly remembers the silk stockings he'd left because they were so damn slippery. "There were some... long socks. I couldn't figure it out. Help me?"
He doesn't know why he says the last bit but the way Sylvain makes a noise as if Felix has wounded him makes it worth it.
"Long socks. Sure," Sylvain breathes, and follows him back to his room, finally letting go of him. It should feel awkward, sitting on his bed clad in nothing but black lace as his oldest friend kneels by his feet and slides a stocking up his leg, but instead it feels…
Felix doesn't allow himself to finish that thought.
“There. All done,” Sylvain says, patting his knee and Felix is suddenly left feeling very shy. “Ferdinand will love it. You look good. Really, Fe, you do.”
“Thanks,” he manages, his mouth dry. Sylvain just nods, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he gets up to leave. Felix sits there for a moment, dazed, then groans as he realizes now he has to find a way to get out of everything without ripping something. That's absolutely not something he should ask Sylvain for help with, and he scolds himself for even entertaining the idea.
That night, Sylvain pops his head into Felix's room after dinner to warn him he's got a date coming over and Felix just shrugs and says it's fine, he'll head over to Ferdinand's for the evening. He's changed into a loose t-shirt and some leggings, and he shrugs on his earlier hoodie as he prepares to leave. Sylvain doesn't say anything else.
"What's on your mind?" Ferdinand asks as they're seated together on his absurdly expensive and quite frankly uncomfortable, couch, watching a movie Felix has long lost interest in. "You're even more quiet than usual."
"Just thinking," Felix replies, tucking himself in closer to his side. Ferdinand's arm comes up to rest on his shoulders and Felix feels fine. He feels just fine.
–
"I think we should break up."
Felix wonders if he should feel something when Ferdinand says those words. It’s Valentine’s Day and they'd been in Ferdinand’s apartment getting ready - Felix has the lingerie on underneath his sweater and his jeans, and it's starting to chafe a little - when Ferdinand had turned to him with a soft smile on his face.
"Why?" Felix asks, tilting his head. It's not that he's upset, if anything, he's more confused. Ferdinand comes over to touch his face gently.
"Oh Felix," he says, his voice soft and sad. "You and I both knew this wasn't going to work out."
He did. He does. They'd just been two lonely people who'd happened to fall into each other's orbits. Ferdinand is still pining for his ex, some asshole who dumped him years ago, and Felix... well. Felix has his own issues.
"I'm sorry," Felix says, because that seems like the right thing to say. And he is sorry. Sorry that he wasn't able to find what he was looking for in Ferdinand, sorry that Ferdinand's heart is still broken, sorry that they couldn't be even though it had seemed right at the time. They’d been two lonely planets pulled into each other’s orbits, filled with the desperate hope that comes after too many let downs.
"Me too," Ferdinand sighs. "I'd like to still be friends though. I think we do have a lot in common."
"Like... horses?"
Ferdinand laughs then, because Felix hates horses and Ferdinand dreams of retiring on a farm surrounded by the beasts. Their first date had been a disastrous visit to a horse ranch and Felix has made Ferdinand swear to never tell a soul how he had screamed. "No," he finally says, kissing Felix’s forehead. "But you know what I mean."
Felix is still mulling on it by the time he gets home. He’d taken a cab that Ferdinand had insisted on paying for after they both agreed that dinner wasn’t happening. The apartment is dark and he wonders briefly if Sylvain is out on a date as he toes off his shoes, kicking them off to the side and stumbling over - god how many shoes do they own? - to the living room where a high pitched shriek catches him off guard.
The only light is coming from the lamp in the corner, a low, orange glow. Sylvain is on the couch with some girl in his lap, her hands halfway up his shirt. She's wearing some pretty little pink dress with bows on it and judging by the lipstick smeared on both their faces, Felix is interrupting.
"Sorry!" He blurts out, taking a step back and attempting to flee the scene of the crime. When did sneakers become so hard to put on? Why does he have laces? Should he go back to velcro straps?
"I thought you said your roommate wasn't going to be home tonight!" The girl hisses, loud enough that Felix can still hear. He nearly drops his shoe in his panic to get it on. Of all the things he has never wanted to experience in his life, walking in on Sylvain and one of his dates is up at the top of the list. While it's probably more of a surprise that it hasn't happened before, it seems oddly fitting that the universe is dumping that on him today of all days.
"He wasn't! I mean, he is, but - Fe, are you ok?"
Felix is still fiddling with his shoes. He stumbles forward, smacking his head on the wall. "Fuck, I'm fine, Ferdinand, we broke up," he manages, trying to find his balance again.
"You what ?!" There is the sound of an indignant squeal, a thud, and footsteps running towards him. Then the lights are on, blinding in their suddenness, and Felix squints up at a shadow that must be Sylvain.
"What the fuck?" He manages, holding a hand up in front of his stinging eyes.
"He broke up with you on Valentine's Day?" Sylvain demands as the girl mutters something behind him, likely unsavory judging from her tone. "Sorry my sweet," Sylvain says off-handedly. "Something's come up."
"Something's come up my ass," she snorts, pushing past the two of them to grab her sandals, the ones Felix had originally tripped over, slamming the door loudly on the way out.
"I'll call?" Sylvain shouts half-heartedly after her, but he doesn't look like he means it.
"No you won't," Felix grumbles, kicking his shoes back off petulantly. He doesn't know why he's suddenly so annoyed. "I could've left."
"Wait, no, we're talking about this," Sylvain insists, dragging Felix bodily onto the couch. He pushes him onto the cushions and throws that monstrosity of a blanket on him. Felix grunts as its heft hits him square in the chest and wrestles it aside, glaring up at Sylvain who just smiles innocently. "Wine? Do you want wine?"
There's a wine bottle with two glasses on the coffee table, one half full, the other empty with lipstick stains on the side. Felix sighs and makes a grabbing gesture with his hand. Sylvain hands him what must've been his glass, and Felix takes a sip before making a face.
"What the fuck? This is rancid." He puts the glass back down, glaring at it as if it's personally offended him.
"I know, isn't it?" Sylvain replies cheerfully, settling in next to him and taking a swig directly from the bottle. "Two bucks in the bargain aisle."
"Two buck - you were trying to win that girl over on Valentine's Day with bargain wine ?!"
"To be fair, I wasn't exactly trying," Sylvain muses, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He really has no right to look that good, Felix thinks faintly. A drop of wine hangs to the side of his lips and before Felix can stop himself, he's reaching out to wipe it off with his thumb. Sylvain grabs his wrist before he can move it away, brings his hand to his mouth, then licks his thumb clean.
"What the fuck?" Felix asks faintly, and Sylvain just grins .
"Stop stalling," he demands. "Tell me what the fuck happened. I thought you and horse boy were like, a thing." He twists his fingers together and it makes Felix feel vaguely uncomfortable.
"Horse boy and I were a thing." Felix rolls his eyes. "And now we're not. End of story."
"That can't be all there is." Sylvain takes another drink and Felix watches his throat move as he swallows. He shrugs. He's not sure why Sylvain is so fixated on the end of his relationship with Ferdinand. It's not as though they had been that serious.
"That's basically it. We wanted different things. But we'll stay friends."
"Friends?" Sylvain echoes in disbelief. He still hasn't let go of him, Felix realizes belatedly. "Are you still wearing it?"
"It? What?" Felix has lost track of the conversation. He wonders if Sylvain is drunk, if he's had more than this bottle of bargain wine, but his eyes are clear as Felix follows them to the edge of his sleeveless sweater, where a black strap has fallen down his shoulder. Ah. He'd almost forgotten.
"You are," Sylvain breathes. "You are, and he still broke up with you? He wants to be just friends after seeing you in that ?"
Felix frowns. "You think that I stripped while we were breaking up? No, we hadn't gotten to that part of the night yet, idiot. He hasn't seen it. Only you have."
Only Sylvain has. Only Sylvain, whom Felix has known since he was in diapers. Sylvain, who's seen him cry more times than Felix cares to admit, who's held his hair back when he's hunched over the toilet vomiting up a bad takeout dinner. Sylvain, whom Felix followed to the same college like a lost puppy, who brought him around to more parties than Felix had ever intended to attend, who walked in on Felix giving his first ever blowjob and cheerfully asked if he could give some pointers. Sylvain, whose face had somehow popped into his mind the first time he'd fingered himself. Felix bites his lower lip.
"What a waste," Sylvain murmurs, his hand a vice around Felix's wrist. His other hand comes up to Felix's shoulder, toying with the strap, and oh, when had they gotten that close? Their knees are bumping into each other now and Sylvain's face is close enough that Felix can smell the faint cloying sweetness of the wine on his breath. He still has lipstick on him, he realizes with a frown, and lifts his hand back up to rub at the tacky pink on the side of Sylvain's mouth. He doesn't know why it bothers him so much. It's Valentine's after all, there wasn't a chance in hell Sylvain would be spending it alone. Sylvain's breath catches and his fingers dig into his shoulder. "Was it his idea or yours?"
This is winning the prize for the strangest conversation they've had together, and that's saying something considering the decades of friendship between them. "Well, he mentioned it, and I thought it would be preferable to chocolates."
Sylvain laughs then, a brilliant noise that somehow makes Felix flush. He hasn't had nearly enough wine to make this, whatever this is, a thing. Sylvain slides his hand down Felix's side to rest on his hip, his thumb lifting up the hem of his sweater. It's faintly reminiscent of just the other day, Felix standing in the center of the room with Sylvain's hand on his hip, a searing brand of a touch. "Preferable to chocolates, huh? I'd agree with that."
Felix doesn't know how to deal with the raging storm of conflicting feelings in front of him. In fact, he has years of experience of pushing down every single feeling regarding Sylvain and his stupid eyes, his stupid laugh, his stupid dimples, his stupid voice, and somehow all those walls are crumbling down at the barest hint of a push. Sylvain is still looking at him with dark eyes that make Felix think of terrible things.
"It seems like a waste to not enjoy it," Sylvain says, and a look of surprise passes over his face as if he also can't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Felix swallows, hard. It suddenly feels very, very hot and the air between them is tense. Anticipatory.
"Yeah," he finds himself saying, and before he can come back to reality, he's pulling the sweater up over his head and throwing it behind him on the sofa in one smooth motion. Now or never. Sylvain's mouth drops open, and his hand comes up to hover over his chest, an unspoken question lingering in the air between them. "Yeah," Felix says again, softer this time, and Sylvain touches him.
It's an absurdly complicated thing, with crisscrossing straps of silk and delicate lace that go across his chest and down his sides, disappearing below the waist of his jeans. There is a collar with a bow, something Felix had felt incredibly foolish putting on, but it seems worth it now when Sylvain slides his finger between the fabric and his neck, and tugs . He falls into Sylvain's lap, his mouth crushed against his in a messy, hot, awkward kiss. It's all tongue and open mouths and a little bit of teeth, and Sylvain is making these absolutely filthy noises as he kisses him back that go straight to Felix’s dick. It's everything Felix has ever wanted.
Sylvain drags his mouth down the side of Felix’s face to nip at the underside of his jaw and Felix shivers, bracing himself on Sylvain’s shoulders. He’s kneeling between Sylvain's legs now and as he presses his thigh closer, he can feel how hard he is already. “Fuck,” he gasps, dragging Sylvain up by his hair for another kiss, grinding up against him. The friction is incredible but not enough. Somehow, Sylvain’s hands are everywhere all at the same time - in his hair pulling it out of its loose tie, cupping his ass, rubbing the front of his jeans. “ Shit .”
“What a mouth,” Sylvain tsks, biting down on Felix’s clavicle and Felix is not proud of the noise he makes. Sylvain evidently likes it and bites him again on the same spot, eliciting another embarrassing noise. “Let me see you, love, let me see all of you.”
It takes some maneuvering but Felix’s jeans make it off and then he’s on his back, arms pinned above his head with just one of Sylvain’s hands - and fuck, that’s hot, and Sylvain is looming over him with red kiss-swollen lips like every forbidden wet dream Felix has ever had. Sylvain kisses a trail down his chest following the straps of the lace, letting go of Felix’s wrists to roam his hands all over his chest. He runs his hand under the strap that crosses his chest, sucking one nipple into his mouth, and Felix nearly kicks Sylvain as his hips buck up involuntarily. “Fuck, fuck,” is all he can manage to say, and Sylvain starts to toy with the other while he continues to suck, rolling with his fingers.
“You liked that?”
“Obviously,” Felix growls, but it loses some of its bite in the breathy way it comes out. He can practically feel Sylvain’s smirk against his ribs, and he lifts one leg to hook it around Sylvain’s waist, digging his heel into his back. He thinks he can still smell that girl’s perfume on his collar and it awakens some terrible, jealous beast inside of him that probably isn’t quite justified given everything. “Why are you still wearing so many goddamn clothes?”
“If you wanted a strip tease, you should’ve just asked. I’d be more than happy to oblige.” Sylvain leans back on his knees, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and Felix follows his fingers, transfixed as inch by inch of bare skin is revealed. He pushes himself up on his elbows and reaches out to work on Sylvain’s belt, sliding it through the hoops and tossing it aside. Sylvain’s already pushing his pants down, and Felix’s mouth actually waters. He touches his stomach and drags it further south until he can curl his fingers around Sylvain’s swollen cock, swiping his thumb over the head. “Careful darling,” Sylvain says, his voice strained. “Unless you this to be over very, very quickly.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to be done after just one round.” Felix starts to slide his hand up and down slowly, relishing in the catch in Sylvain’s breath and the novel feel of him under his palm. “It’s ok, I can be patient.”
“Oh, you have such faith in me.” Sylvain groans before he covers Felix’s hand with his own, showing him how he likes it. Their hands speed up just so and Sylvain’s eyes are half closed, his face flushed as they jerk him off together. “I’m really fucking close, Felix.”
Felix just hums, scooting over so that he can press kisses to Sylvain’s hips, trailing his mouth until it meets his hand. He licks a stripe up the side of Sylvain’s dick before swallowing him down, something he’s dreamed of doing way too many times before.
“Oh my god,” Sylvain is saying in a dazed voice from somewhere above him. There are fingers in his hair, pulling in a way that sets the nerve endings in his scalp on fire in the most wonderful way, and he doubles his efforts. It’s messy, not his finest work, and he can feel saliva dribbling down his chin but the noises Sylvain makes spur him on. His hand works at the base, his other hand reaching down to play with his balls, then moving even further back to brush against Sylvain’s entrance with just the barest hint of pressure. Suddenly, he is being yanked back by his hair and without warning, Sylvain is coming all over his face. It's the hottest thing Felix has ever seen. “Oh shit, sorry, fuck, I didn’t mean to do that.” His voice is strained and his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath.
Felix blinks up at him, then uses his hand to push some of it into his mouth, licking his fingers clean. “I liked it,” he admits, his voice hoarse.
“Oh, you’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Sylvain says softly before he’s pushing Felix back down on the couch and kissing him again, his hand cupping Felix through the panties. The feel of silk against him coupled with the pressure is so good and he moans into Sylvain’s open mouth, arching up to meet him. Sylvain pulls back just enough for Felix to see how dark his gaze has gone. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” His grin is pure mischief as he lowers himself and settles in between Felix’s legs, kissing bruises into the sensitive skin between his leg and his hip, mouthing at the damp silk, his hands running up his thighs and parting them. This time, it’s Felix’s turn to bury his hands in red hair, his legs falling further open as Sylvain starts to play with him, his fingers dipping under the fabric to tease.
“More,” Felix demands and Sylvain is nothing if not obliging. He works Felix’s cock free of the panties and takes him in his mouth at the same time his fingers start to probe. It hurts a little dry, but the pain is delicious among the hot pleasure that’s surrounding him. “Fuck, more .”
Sylvain’s fingers and mouth disappear suddenly and Felix hears a cap open before he has time to protest the loss. Felix opens his eyes in sheer disbelief. “Of course you have lube in the living room. Has that been there this whole fucking time?”
“Tonight was special,” Sylvain says, somewhat sheepishly, as he coats his fingers, warming it up. Felix watches, transfixed. “But aren’t you glad I had this?”
When Sylvain presses two fingers into him at the same time, Felix bites down hard on Sylvain’s shoulder to keep from shouting out. He’s not sure he’s usually this vocal but something about Sylvain sends everything normal and usual out the window. “Ok, sure, fine,” he manages at a more reasonable volume, and kisses Sylvain to shut him up before he can say anything back.
Sylvain’s fingers are thicker and longer than his own and minutes? Hours? Seconds? moments later, he’s got Felix reduced to a moaning, desperate mess, his brain a fog of pleasure and want. The panties are absolutely soaked in precum and it would feel gross if not for the way Sylvain keeps telling him how sexy it is that he’s so wet. “Fuck me,” he hears a voice that vaguely sounds like his say in a whiny, breathy tone. “Need you in me.”
“Yeah, yeah baby, I’ve got you,” Sylvain groans, pulling his fingers out. He wipes them on the side of Felix’s stocking, which really should be disgusting, but not when Sylvain grabs his calf and presses a kiss to the underside of his knee. Felix fumbles for the lube and pours way too much into his hand. He gestures for Sylvain to move closer, and Felix was right, he’s hard again, and he moans as Felix slicks him up. “I’m afraid these are going to have to come off,” Sylvain says mournfully, pulling the panties down to Felix’s thighs.
“Next time, I’ll get the ones with the hole in the back and you can keep them on,” Felix mumbles as they fumble the panties all the way off and the brilliant smile Sylvain gives him in response is worth the momentary flare of mortification.
“Next time, hm?”
“Wait.” Felix stops him with a hand on his chest. Sylvain looks up at him, concern flashing over his face. “There is going to be a next time, right? This isn’t like, some… Some one time thing. Because of…” He gestures vaguely. “The lingerie.”
“Oh sweetheart.” Sylvain cups his face and kisses him again, this time soft and slow. Felix sighs into it, feeling himself melting. “I’ve wanted you for years, Felix,” he whispers against his mouth.
“Me too,” Felix admits softly, brushing their noses together. “For so long.” He kisses him again.
“The lace is just an added bonus. I almost jumped you that other day.” Sylvain smiles against him, guiding him back down onto the couch. “I think I’ve had this dream before.”
“What, fucking me on the couch after ditching your date?”
“No, you idiot.” Sylvain looks incredibly fond. “You, all dressed up just for me.” He hoists one of Felix’s legs over his shoulder. “You, under me.” He lines himself up then pushes in torturously slow and Felix wants to cry with how much he wants it. “You, begging for me.”
“Faster,” he demands, trying to find a position for more purchase. He tries to tilt his hips but Sylvain presses him down, and the sheer weight of it makes Felix shudder.
“Patience,” Sylvain grunts, and it looks like holding back is straining him as much as it is Felix. “You, filled with my cock.” He slides his palm over Felix’s cock and Felix is ashamed to say he whimpers.
“Please, Sylvain ,” and apparently that’s what does it. Sylvain bottoms out then thrusts in again so quickly Felix sees stars. “Oh god, yeah, like that.” His mouth falls open and he’s making noises that he is going to swear tomorrow he didn’t. Sylvain’s hand slides to cup his ass, tilting him up, and the angle is absolute perfection.
“Can you come like this?” Sylvain asks, scraping his teeth down the side of Felix’s neck, and Felix hasn’t ever, but the way Sylvain is making him light up from the inside out makes him think -
“Yeah, probably,” falls from his mouth and Sylvain swears. Felix tilts his head back so Sylvain can continue to ravish his neck, somehow managing to find all of Felix's weak spots on the first try. “Fuck, right - right there, more, I’m close.”
“I’ve got you.” Sylvain’s got one hand in his hair, and the other finds Felix's from where it's pressed to Sylvain's chest. He guides their linked hands in between them and it only takes a few strokes before he’s coming harder than he ever has in his entire life. Some of it hits his chin and Sylvain licks it off with a noise that almost gets Felix hard again. Sylvain fucks him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, slower now, his eyes closed and mouth slightly parted like he’s praying, and Felix thinks oh my god, I love him, as Sylvain comes inside of him.
Somehow they make it to Sylvain’s bed, his room being closer than Felix’s, on wobbly legs and collapse face first into his sheets. “Gimme a second and I’ll get a cloth,” Sylvain mumbles into his pillow and Felix just laughs breathlessly. He turns his face and smiles at Felix, a soft, precious thing that Felix wants to bottle up and keep forever, and Felix reaches out to touch his face. Sylvain presses kisses to his palm, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently. “You’re amazing. How did I get so lucky?” He asks in between kisses.
“I think that’s my line,” Felix says, scooting closer to him on the bed. He doesn’t want to admit how pleased Sylvain’s words make him feel. He feels weightless and relaxed in a way he's never been before, almost giddy with relief. Sylvain’s smile grows wider and Felix’s heart might actually burst. “How long?”
“Hmm.” Sylvain closes his eyes as he thinks. He mulls over it for a moment before he grins, looking at Felix slyly. “Probably before then, but I definitely realized it by that time I walked on you blowing that guy.”
“Oh my god,” Felix chokes, swatting at his shoulder. If he was less wrung out, he’d have shoved him off the bed. Sylvain just laughs. “That was the most embarrassing moment of my life! You asked if you could help us out!”
“Listen, I am not proud of what I did, but if you’d agreed, maybe we’d have had this sooner,” Sylvain teases, peppering kisses across his face.
“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”
“I’m sure you’ve improved significantly though.” Sylvain’s rolled over to cage Felix in with his arms and Felix can feel his smile against his mouth as they kiss, slow and lazy. “If earlier tonight was any indication.”
Felix rolls his eyes. “Let’s not talk about my exes or blowjob skills right now.”
Sylvain kisses his nose. “Whatever you say, darling. Now your turn. How long?”
Felix doesn’t even have to think about it. He should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he answers. “When you held my hand on the ferris wheel because I was scared.”
Sylvain looks at him, his mouth falling open as he the memory is unearthed. Felix closes his eyes, suddenly ashamed. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it.
“Oh Felix, that was…”
“Over fifteen years ago? Yeah.”
“Felix. Open your eyes. Look at me.” Sylvain’s voice is impossibly warm and Felix cracks his eyes open. Sylvain smiles down at him, his expression breathtakingly sad. “I’m so sorry I made you wait so long.”
“It’s not your fault, idiot, I never told you. I didn’t want you to know. I thought - ” Why is his voice cracking? He tries to cover his face with his hands but Sylvain pulls them down. “I didn’t…”
Sylvain kisses his eyelids, kisses the tears that are gathering in the corners of his eyes, then his cheeks, his mouth. “I’m glad you told me now though,” he says, brushing their lips together, interlacing their fingers together and pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up, haven’t I?”
“Yeah,” Felix breathes against him, mouth curving into a smile. “Better get started.”
Sylvain’s hands are gentle as he unhooks Felix from the now hopelessly tangled lace set and pulls off the stockings, trying his best to neatly fold everything - “I’m not wearing that again, Sylvain, it's absolutely filthy now,” - before placing it on his chair with a fond look that makes Felix snort. He wipes them both down before crawling back into bed with another one of his mischievous smiles, nuzzling the side of Felix’s neck. Felix automatically shifts his head to give him better access, and the press of Sylvain’s mouth against the new bruises is the perfect blend of pain and pleasure.
“You like that,” Sylvain says with delight, worrying at a spot with his teeth. Felix moans, wondering if it's too soon for another round, and evidently Sylvain is on the same page as he reaches for Felix’s wrist to press him more firmly in the mattress. “We’ve got all night,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down to Felix’s chest. “I could tie you up, find out how to make you scream.” He nips at a nipple, just on the side of too hard, and Felix lets out a shaky breath. He can feel the arousal building in the pit of his belly as Sylvain continues his quest to discover all of Felix’s most sensitive spots. Felix curls his free hand under Sylvain’s chin and tilts his face up to lock eyes with him. He licks his lips and watches Sylvain's gaze turn dark.
“Do your worst.”