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"You don't have to lay so far away. I can tell that you're shivering."
Felix shifted and did not reply. He was facing against the wall, pointedly away from Sylvain, who was currently patting the bed trying to coax him closer. And he knew Sylvain could tell he was shivering because the bed was probably made a thousand years ago and every little twitch caused it to ache and moan under their weight. Hell, it probably wasn't even made two fit two grown men- but it was all the inn had been able to spare after a freak snow storm pushed through.
The expedition had been going well before the storm. The professor had sent Felix and Sylvain out to recover some artifact, that really didn't look all that important but was valuable enough to warrant ignoring any signs of inclement weather, and the recovery had gone smooth. Nobody would complain about a mundane, predictable fight these days.
Felix felt- and heard, thanks to their bed- Sylvain roll onto his side to face him. "It's not like we haven't shared a bed before," he started, "I know you're a cuddler. I promise I won't tell, though I doubt anyone would believe me if I tried."
"I was a cuddler when I was seven."
"But you obviously run just as cold now as back then! Neither of us will sleep unless you stop tossing and turning. Come here."
Felix sighed and shifted around to face Sylvain. The light coming from the fireplace behind him framed him nicely- all soft edges, the hint of a smile. Felix swallowed down the urge to reach out and caress his face, to curl up into his heat and lay there as if he was sunbathing. He was familiar with the sensation; though it had been close to a decade since he'd been willing to do as much. Sylvain was so warm all the time that even his facades had a certain comfortable gravity to them. He resigned himself to looking down at the empty space between them. The bed still creaked with his shivering.
Sylvain pushed his hand into Felix's retreating line of sight, making sure that suffocating offer couldn't escape him. "It really will be warmer for both of us, and I swear I won't ever mention it again," he pleaded.
And Felix huffed and rolled inwards, where Sylvain was slowly stretching his arm out to hold him. The bed practically screamed when he hoisted himself up to curl against Sylvain, but returned to it's inanimate state after Sylvain wrapped his arm around Felix's side and laid still on the pillow. Felix thought he might die from the weight around him, the warmth and comfort and familiarity of it all. It was too much but he couldn't stop from falling into long forgotten habits- tucking his face into Sylvain's neck, letting his back lean into the comforting circles Sylvain was rubbing into it. He was asleep in minutes.
Unfortunately, his peace did not last.
At some point, Felix jerked awake- his heart slammed in his chest, and he sat up immediately to gauge what was going on around them. No one got the luxury of being a heavy sleeper during wartime. But the room was just as it had been when he'd fallen asleep, though now the fire was just a lump of ashes and charred bits of wood that hadn't burned properly. He could still hear the wind outside their room, and the moans of the old bed underneath him. It was noticeably colder, and Sylvain was upright next to him, shivering and staring down. Felix scanned him and let his eyes adjust to the light of the room. It seemed like the worst of the storm had passed, because moonlight was visible now through the window. He could make out that Sylvain's eyes were open and fixed towards his lap, where his hands were balled tight over the thin comforter.
Felix was nearly positive it was a nightmare. Sylvain got them frequently when they were kids, and practically everyone had started getting them since the war began. Before that, really- since the academy, after they had gotten their first kill. Thinking of it that way felt like describing a spring hunt, and drew a palatable blurry line in the sand. He didn't know nowadays what Sylvain did when he got them. He knew what he did, which was stomp around outside and whack a sword at a practice dummy in the middle of the night, but that was not an option and not likely something his companion would indulge anyways. He did know Sylvain was touchy, and needy, and so frustrating that any help Felix could offer would be firmly out of his own comfort zone. He lent sideways until he was pressed up side-to-side with Sylvain and wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling Sylvain against him. Despite the height difference, the angle fit Sylvain nicely into the curve of his body, and allowed Felix to rest his head on top of Sylvain's. It felt greedy.
"You can talk about it," Felix whispered, "if you like." He felt Sylvain shuffle beside him and push his face against his neck. He was still so warm, his breath was humid against thin, icy skin. Felix pressed him a little tighter.
Sylvain didn't respond immediately. He just maintained their contact, measuring his breaths slow and deep. It was several minutes before he mumbled something against Felix's skin, too quiet to be heard or understood. And then he lifted himself and sniffed and Felix realized that he had been crying into his shoulder, that it wasn't just Sylvain's summery nature that left his body damp. "It wasn't even about the war. That's what's so fucking frustrating about the nightmares, they're about being a kid and not about the war. If it was the war, I'd have an excuse to be so miserable."
"We both know that isn't true."
"I think I'd know what my nightmare was about, Felix."
Felix looked incredulously towards Sylvain before he realized what he said had been purposefully misinterpreted. "You ass," Felix mumbled, "you know what I mean. It's not like I don't dream of Glenn sometimes. You're just as human and touchable as the rest of us, don't mope over it."
This did seem to help, as Sylvain was lowering his head back into the place he'd carved out against Felix's shoulder. "You're too good to me," he whispered. This time, despite the press of his face against Felix, the words were audible.
"If I'm not, who will be?" Felix laid his head back in the rats nest of ginger curls Sylvain's hair had become throughout the night. It wasn't damp with snow and ice anymore, but had either dried poking out or been matted down by the pillow. If there was more light in the room Felix might lift his head up and play with it, and tease Sylvain about how unsightly he was like this, before brushing it back into place with his fingers. But it was too dark to see his parts and cowlicks.
"Plenty of people, Felix. Isn't that my problem?" Sylvain laughed, "I suppose it was, at one point. Not so much anymore. Too focused on trying not to die all the time to have people being good to me."
Felix pulled his hand from around Sylvain's waist to elbow him in the side, probably harder than he should have, but nothing he knew Sylvain couldn't handle. Only Sylvain was now knocking back against him, which was unprecedented, and Felix was having to return the effort and knock him back onto his side of the old disgustingly noisy bed. But Sylvain was not through and had some stupid, barely discernible look on his face. He grappled at Felix and flipped him back towards the other side of the bed, rucking off the comforter, and before Felix could counter he was pinning him down against the mattress. Felix tried to push against him, but Sylvain was leaning all his weight into keeping his arms pinned in place, only barely shifting to make sure Felix wouldn't try to use his legs. But Felix knew it wasn't all the effort he could put in, and that he could find a way to best Sylvain if he really tried. That was usually what happened when Sylvain thought he had the upper hand. Instead, after the minimal push upwards Felix had given, he just stared. Despite the lack of light, being pressed up this close he could make out Sylvain's features and he knew his will was softening. He could feel the balmy heat of his breath, and the weight against him was welcome in any context. He just relaxed back into the pillow.
"Too much?" Sylvain asked, and Felix deflated. He twisted his head to the side against the pillow, embarrassed and lightly ashamed that he had been so obvious. Hadn't he been ogling? Sylvain tightened the grip around his wrists. "Or, are you enjoying it?"
Felix whipped his head back around to face Sylvain. "Excuse me?"
"I've pinned you plenty of times on the training grounds, and you've never looked at me like that. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Sylvain replied. "Besides, you could get out from under me if you wanted to."
"I could."
"But you don't have any interest in trying to." And then Sylvain moved his hands off of Felix's wrists and lowered his body more, caging Felix with his forearms. "Is this better?"
His face was so close, tucked impolitely against Felix's ear when he murmured it. And against everything screaming inside Felix, and against the agonized creak of the bed, and against the whistles of wind outside their window, Felix tilted his head so their lips could meet.
It wasn't as intense as he expected a kiss with Sylvain to be. Some part of him was certain it would be intoxicating, some spell would come over him and he would become lovesick. Like Sylvain was cursed. But of course he wasn't, he hadn't ever been anything but the opposite, and the union of their mouths wouldn't change that. Sylvain seemed hesitant, just barely kissing him, not licking at him or pressing his tongue into his mouth or groping. He kissed apprehensively, as if Felix might break, which was ridiculous because he'd just been shoving him down into the mattress. And then Sylvain dragged his arm away from the walls of the cage he'd made Felix and placed it against his cheek, leaning in, deepening the kiss into something slightly more sure.
Felix didn't pay attention to how long they laid like that, or when he had moved his arms to wrap around Sylvain's back and pull him close. He did pay attention when Sylvain's tongue finally licked into his mouth, and the hand on his cheek tilted his head to the side. Felix knew his hands had gone from pressing against Sylvain's back to digging his nails in, actively gripping instead of just gently holding him close. Felix felt Sylvain make a little noise, something stifled that if they hadn't been mouth-to-mouth might've been a soft moan. And suddenly Sylvain broke away from him, his hand turning gentle again and pushing through Felix's loose hair.
"Fe," Sylvain gasped, "I…Do you want this?"
Felix did not like the look on Sylvain's face. It was like he'd just broken his mother's favorite tchotchke. Perhaps it was a look Sylvain was used to receiving rather than giving, and that's why it looked so wrong.
"If I didn't want it, why would I be doing it? Of course I do. I want you." Felix hadn't really meant to say the last part aloud, or at least so confidently. Sylvain didn't waste time after that. He brought them together again immediately, and this time he was kissing with hunger and need, exactly like what Felix had expected the first time. And then Felix yanked back, just barely pushing his hand against Sylvain's chest. "Wait! It's fucking freezing. Light the fire again first."
Sylvain stared for a second, and then huffed out a laugh. "Right," he rolled over, and was still chuckling as he got up and lit the fire again. His heat was sorely missed for the minute and a half he spent out of the bed. When the fire had returned to life, he didn't waste time climbing back in the bed and pressing himself up against Felix, ensuring that they were kissing again as soon as possible. Sylvain sighed against him, tilting his head to deepen their kiss as he slid his hands under Felix's shirt and tugged it up. Sylvain explored the muscle and planes of Felix's body, caressing and stroking, before gripping his hips and pushing Felix underneath him. Felix groaned against his mouth, but the cries of the bed drowned him out, squeaking and cracking underneath them as he was pushed down against the pillows. Felix pulled Sylvain closer, grabbing at his shirt and yanking it up at his neck, and the momentum caused the kiss to break and he was very regretful of his impatience because now Sylvain was inches away when he didn't have to be.
"So eager. I can get it off, if you'd like," Sylvain whispered, bringing his mouth down next to Felix's ear, before sliding his shirt off and unceremoniously tossing it to the floor. Once he slid back to his former position, he pulled Felix's hand against his chest. "Better?" Sylvain asked.
Felix let his hand rest there and stared, before tilting his head back up at Sylvain and slowly dragging his hand up across his chest. He made sure to brush his nipple and studied how Sylvain shuddered at the touch. Felix drifted his hand across his collarbone, his Adams apple, and the little space behind his ear before tugging him down and kissing the other side, feeling Sylvain's breath catch against his neck when he bit and pushed their hips together.
He felt incredible, so warm and tactile in their private world. Felix let his hands come back up to roam Sylvain's back, tracing every scar and blemish. He wished he could count the freckles there. If he was more optimistic he'd let himself consider that maybe one day he could, but just entertaining that felt like stealing. And Felix was not a thief. So he pretended that every soft unaffected piece of skin was another 5 sunspots and added them in his head.
Sylvain was rutting against him, sucking marks into his neck while he counted. It took him far too long to notice that he was kissing a path downwards, down to the line of hair on his abdomen, and the Sylvain was tugging at his waistband. Felix rose up on his elbows and looked down at Sylvain, his red hair glowing from the light of the fire, lifting his head to meet Felix's gaze. He was always so handsome, even like this, with his hair a mess and his face red and lips puffy. Felix thought the next time he saw Sylvain taking off his helmet, flushed with exertion and sweat, he would imagine this. And then the disgusting pervert slid his hand under Felix's pants and palmed him.
Felix couldn't help the noise he made or the way his hips bucked into Sylvain's hand. He quickly grabbed his mouth, not caring that it made him lose his balance and flop sideways. "The bed is so noisy I doubt anyone will here your moans," Sylvain started, "except me, so I'd really appreciate if you kept from doing that." He pulled his hand out from Felix's pants and reached up to grab his arm back down. "Can I take these off?" Sylvain gestured back down, and all Felix could do was nod.
He moved back down, pulling Felix's pants with one hand and lifting his hips with the other. His hands were so big, and Felix felt like a fool for not ever studying how they felt on him before. He should've paid more attention throughout his life- not just now, but as a child and teenager and fledgling soldier. He wished he knew enough to catalogue how they'd changed in his mind. He wondered if Sylvain's hand would've felt any different if they were doing this years ago, with less responsibility, if his hand would rub against his smallclothes then the same way it was now. Felix bit his lip again and tried not to cry when Sylvain pressed his tongue against the tent, licking against it, adding to the wetness that was already building at the apex, and Felix grabbed at his shoulder. "Wait, I can't," Felix rasped.
Sylvain looked at him in consternation. "We can stop?"
"No I- I'm close,"
"Oh." And that silly little smirk was coming back, Sylvain getting cheekier by the minute. He grabbed Felix's smallclothes and tugged them down to his knees before dipping his head back down and mouthing at the head of his cock. Felix nearly screamed but caught himself at a whimper, and his hips jerked but Sylvain's hands held them down against the bed so he didn't thrust into his throat. Felix didn't get the chance to think about how good that would feel before a hand was wrapped around him and Sylvain's mouth was bobbing down.
"Fuck, Sylvain, just like that," he gasped. Sylvain continued the same motion, gradually taking in more and getting closer to the base while rubbing his thigh. Felix was breathing hard, fallen back against the pillows but still with enough vantage to reach down and pull at Sylvain's hair. "Keep going, please," the last part of his request coming out as a mumble, and Sylvain answered by groaning around him and sliding down further, hollowing out his cheek and letting Felix's cock slide against his tongue. Felix tightened the grip in his hair and tugged, rolling his hips up at the same time, and he felt the hand on his hip tighten. He hoped it would bruise, even though it didn't feel all that painful or rough. Sylvain picked up his rhythm, the shakes and whines of the bed moving in unison, and it was unbearably good, the noise and the rock of his hips up into the wet heat of Sylvain's throat. Felix grabbed his hair and tried to tug Sylvain up, but Sylvain only doubled down instead, taking him further in and swallowing on each motion. Felix didn't get the chance to say anything before he came and heard Sylvain choke around him, but he didn't stop completely, letting Felix finish completely before sliding off.
Sylvain sat there for a moment and panted before climbing back over Felix and opening his mouth to speak, but Felix didn't give him the chance. He yanked his hair again and pulled him down into a kiss, tasting the salt and bitterness in Sylvain's mouth before realizing neither of them had really caught their breath beforehand and he had to let go. When they parted, he didn't let go. His hand had come to rest from Sylvain's hair to his jaw, and he rubbed his fingers against it slowly, tracing the muscle and bone. Staring at the shine of the spit on his chin and redness of his lips, then dragging his fingers to touch. Sylvain lent his head into it and hummed.
"What do you want?" Felix murmured, but Sylvain just continued rubbing his head against Felix's palm while smiling. Felix ceased his affections and wrapped his arms around Sylvain's neck, pulling him downwards, close enough that he could kiss him again. "Please. I don't like debts."
"No debts here, Fe," Sylvain laughed against him, "but I'd like it if you touched me. If you want to."
"I already said what I wanted earlier." Felix answered, and before Sylvain could say anything to that Felix was tugging his pants and smallclothes down, and reaching for him. He couldn't see well what Sylvain looked like erect, but he could tell it was bigger than he'd anticipated. He dragged his hand along Sylvain's length, shifting down underneath him to position himself better. Sylvain shifted from his hands to his elbows and stared down, gasping as he bucked his hips into the sensation, whining when Felix's grip tightened and when his thumb pressed against the head.
"Y-Yes, just like that Fe, more," he begged, fucking into his fist while he continued to move. Sylvain was desperate, thrusting irregularly against Felix, before finishing with a muffled cry and spilling onto Felix's chest. Felix could feel Sylvain shaking when he massaged his clean hand against his thigh and moved back up underneath him, snaking his hand along Sylvain's side as he moved up. A gentle tug was all it took for Sylvain to collapse on top of him.
Felix felt the urge rise up in him to tease about how quickly Sylvain finished, but swallowed it down when he felt soft hair against him and breath on his neck. Sylvain was nestled against him- and despite the cold of the room and the brittle cries of their horrible, prehistoric bed- everything was comfortable again.