[ byleth, misunderstanding the thought to give him some makeup: ]
Is it... that bad?
I realized a long time ago that I must have a frightening face, but I didn't think the situation was so dire that I should cover it up. Jeralt always says I resemble my mother...
[ give him a moment, he needs to process the fact that "frightening" is what Byleth got out of this. man, Jeralt must really have sheltered this guy... ]
That's not what I meant at all. You only look frightening because of your reputation, but you're not ruggedy and scarred and all rough around the edges like most mercs. If anything, you're too pretty to be a merc.
[ wait, he just heard himself talk-- ]
I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd probably think you were closer to a noble rather than a warrior.
[ actually, just noble doesn't cut it, either... who else is it that Byleth reminds him of....... ]
[ in battle, everyone's afraid of him; outside of that, the other mercs tend to give him a wide berth. that... probably means his face isn't the best, right? byleth's never cared that much about it one way or another, though...
(the fact he's never been hit on is probably solely because it would be wildly inappropriate to make a move on the captain's son; the women who would've looked at him with interest would've realized it was better to admire him from afar, and any men that dared to make a move would've probably been impassively thrashed by jeralt for the insult. mostly just because they would've been closer to jeralt's age than byleth's.)
but shez says he's pretty... that's a new one. is he pretty? jeralt says he resembles his mother, but byleth always figured he meant more in terms of coloring than looks... ]
Am I...? I've really never thought about it.
It is a little overwhelming, I have to admit. The company that Jeralt and I usually keep... it's always been coarser. Rougher. But there are so many nobles here... with pretty faces and soft hands and sweet perfumes. I don't know how I feel about it yet.
You also have a handsome face, I think. The others must admire you greatly.
Handsome? That's gotta be a first for me, though I've been called a "Babyface" before. Not sure what to make of that...
[ the audacity of some random NPCs, I swear!! but on the other hand, Shez is practically an expert at friendzoning everyone, and it's mostly unintentional, too. too many Earnest Feelings openly professed, and not enough willingness to put down roots anytime soon. he loves the nomadic life of mercenaries too much to settle down.
(that might as well work as his alibi, too, in case Jeralt personally goes over Byleth's messenger owl logs. he's not trying to woo the pants off your son, promise!) ]
But I definitely get you on feeling overwhelmed around all these nobles and their fancy habits. Took me a long time to get used to it, and honestly I still can't say I've figured out all the proper etiquette for their tea parties...
[ oh. oh careful now. this is one of those rare moments the wheels in his brain are spinning, he's gonna do it, gonna produce one (1) whole Idea...!! ]
Hey, I bet you would have a much easier time with that! Why don't you give it a try?
Well, yeah, sort of! I mean, think about it: what are the odds anyone will find you intimidating in the presence of fancy food and expensive tea?
[ ... yeah okay, he can see as some nobles might look even more intimidating in this kind of setting, but unless Byleth is somehow tossed into a position of power like Supreme Ruler of Fodlan (in this timeline) that shouldn't be a problem! ]
Besides, everyone is always thrilled when I take them out on expeditions. Guess fun breaks are always welcome.
Eh, proper etiquette is more annoying than difficult per se. But hey, if I could figure it out, I'm sure you will, too!
[ well. more or less, anyway. he can't keep quiet for very long, he's a meowcenary with a permanent case of zoomies, you see. ]
But besides the usual merc stuff like sparring and going drinking with your buddies, I guess I have fun the most just by hanging out with friends and getting to know them better. Always feels nice to put a smile on their faces, too, even if it's just by chatting them up or giving them a little gift to boost morale. Pretty boring, huh?
[ isn't it just!! almost like these ratatouille rat vessels are two sides of the same coin! but that couldn't possibly be it!! ]
I don't know about kind, but this is the first time I've gotten around to making lasting bonds with friends. You know how it goes with mercs- you're all the best of buds until there's one less head to split your cut of the pay.
Anyway, I think giving Jeralt a gift might be a good place to start! Flowers are mostly popular with everyone... Do you know if he's got any favorites?
It wasn't quite that cutthroat in Jeralt's group. But it could be like that, sometimes, if the wrong people joined.
Growing up, he always told me to forgive people if I could. But a lot of the time, he said, you can't.
I don't know... I'll look around. But that's a good idea. Flowers, I mean.
People tend to think that Jeralt is all about the mercenary life. That all he cares about is alcohol and combat and coin. But he's not really like that, deep down.
Guess you had a bit of an easier time, and it probably helped that your dad had so much experience as a merc. I had to learn it the way most other mercs do, and the closest thing to friends I ever made before joining this army was during my time serving under captain Berling.
[ and... they both know how that turned out, so. best to drop that topic right there! ]
Anyway, I know better than to judge a book by its cover, and Jeralt is no different. It's obvious he cares a whole lot about you. Worries, even, that you don't have a lot of friends your own age. Surprisingly overprotective, right?
[ does Byleth even know Jeralt all but asked Shez to take care of him? he's not old enough to adopt a kid this big! ]
[ oh yeah. berling's group. the tactful thing would definitely be to drop the subject — ]
I'm still sorry for trying to kill you.
[ — TOO LATE, shez is talking to captain tactless and so he will address how he feels head-on. but hey... at least byleth means it? and he did hesitate long enough, before killing shez, that he gave arval the chance to... wake up and stuff... anyway, it worked out...! ]
...Does he really worry that much?
It's not that I don't believe you. It's just that he doesn't really talk to me about things like that.
[ naturally, he wouldn't, given that "my kid has no friends" isn't really a problem that can be fixed by addressing said kid. besides, jeralt always took the position that byleth was fine the way he was and didn't need to change himself. but... ]
And when I was a child, Jeralt knew that I could fend for myself, so he usually didn't have problems leaving me alone or by myself for a few days... or weeks...
[ ... yeah, captain tactful, how is that working out for you? ah well, it's Shez's own fault for bringing it up, so: ]
Hey, don't worry about it-- water under the bridge, okay? That's how it goes between mercenaries.
[ besides, Shez also tried to kill Byleth while they were on the same side, though in his defense, he wasn't really himself, either. ugh. why must everything be so complicated between them... ]
Anyway, I'm sure Jeralt knows better than anyone that you can expertly handle yourself with a sword, yeah, but that's not really what he worries about. He just wants to know you have some friends, make sure you're not, you know, lonely and all.
[ there's a distinct 'when Jeralt is gone' bit that Shez has made the elective decision to omit because, well, he doesn't want to sound any unnecessary alarms. ]
[ Byleth was apparently not kidding about being a clingy, sleepy drunk.
As soon as he finishes his first glass of whiskey, he's drowsy, his long lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep them open. In the next moment, he's fully — or apparently near-fully — asleep. He's just conscious enough to mumble incoherently as he clings first to poor Felix (who happened to be nearby, and much to Byleth's slumbering surprise, does not immediately shove the professor off, but instead grudgingly passes him over to "the boar") and then to Dimitri, who seems equal parts embarrassed and pleased to be the professor's teddy bear. It's a wonder that Byleth can sleep in the crowded, loud bar.
Despite Sylvain's best efforts to make this a "Manwhore Monday" for the ages, none of the other Blue Lions seem inclined to flirt with any of the young women in town (who are mostly just peasant girls and the occasional wandering mercenary, given that this is no place for eligible noblewomen to spend their time). Instead, they seem more inclined to laugh and chat among themselves.
At length, Dimitri politely excuses himself, ostensibly to go out into the cold air outside to sober up a little, but perhaps also because he's flushed so dark pink that he's nearly crimson; Byleth has not made things easy for him, being very happy to squeeze whoever — or whatever — is in reach of his arms. "I'm sorry, Sylvain, could you watch the professor for a moment?" the prince (king, everyone keeps having to correct themselves) asks, gently disentangling himself from Byleth's greedy limbs so he can, apparently, go get some air.
Dedue goes to accompany the young king, as always, so that leaves Felix and Ashe and Sylvain with the professor on Sylvain's shoulder, practically in Sylvain's lap.
He still has his eyes closed, but he also seems mostly awake. ]
Mmmnnh...
[ Byleth rubs his head against Sylvain's shoulder. ]
instead, he mother hens. who wants food, who needs to be topped off, who needs water.
and sure, he could be chatting up the girls in town, telling them how pretty they look in the torchlight and sneaking out to the alley for a sloppy handjob, but actually, this is way more fun. he might have oversold manwhore monday to the professor. it might be more like "man distracts himself from the sorrows in his life monday," but who's keeping track, really.
besides, he enjoys ashe's bawdy laugh and dimitri chugging an entire flagon of beer himself while the blue lions cheer him on a lot more. felix even cracks a smile. it was definitely worth the wheedling it took to get them all to come out.
he waves dimitri off, no doubt needing to cool off from byleth hanging off him all night. the professor had not been kidding about the clinginess, but it's...cute. he's a warm, comforting weight on sylvain's shoulder. reminds him almost of felix when they were younger, trying to stay up late at night to watch the fireflies in the garden. but when he tries to catch felix's eye and smile, he can't. of course felix has already turned away. what'd sylvain expect? ]
Sorry, Professor. I'll wear less for you next time.
[ he brings a hand up, combing slowly through byleth's hair. it's softer than he'd imagined it being. ]
Guess I better cut you off, huh? We still gotta make it home with you after all, you party animal. [ as though sylvain hasn't been plying byleth with water for the last hour or so. ] So? How's your first Manwhore Monday?
[ Byleth has been drinking water, but it hasn't seem to have made him any more sober. It may be the case that he's actually already sober, but likes having the excuse to be clingy and childish, pawing at his friends in a catlike, babyish way. He'd normally never let himself cut this loose, so in that respect, perhaps Manwhore Monday has been a rousing success.
(And, yes, many years ago, when he was still enough of a boy to be childish but enough of a man to drink with the other mercenaries, he was prone to doing this to Jeralt, too, clinging to the man's broad chest, nuzzling into the soft prickle of his beard until his father started stroking his back and took him up to an inn room to sleep.)
Sylvain does not have a beard for him to nuzzle into, but Byleth seems to enjoy the stroking of his silky hair all the same. He shifts his cheek pillowed against Sylvain's chest, completely oblivious to the way that Felix seems to be getting slightly huffy about the whole thing.
The professor's voice is low and sleepy when he speaks. ]
It was okay.
[ Just okay?! ]
Next time... we should bring games. Of the kind that Claude seems to like.
[ ...Like... board games...? ]
'Cause Felix gets all competitive... and it'd make Dimitri laugh...
You know, I think that could be arranged. A chessboard would really liven up Manwhore Monday, Professor. How'd you know?
[ sylvain gives him a lopsided grin as he leans back in his seat. one hand steadies both their weight on the bench. byleth's hair tickles where it brushes along the collar of his shirt and the skin he exposes as he nuzzles. ]
Felix isn't really the type for chess, though. He much prefers fighting himself than letting the pieces do it for him, right, Fe?
[ another hopeful attempt at getting felix to smile at him, dashed when felix shoots to his feet in a huff. there's some kind of murmur about air or maybe dimitri needing him or whatever excuse he feels he needs to get away from sylvain as fast as possible.
of course.
ashe is all but fallen asleep against the wall on sylvain's other side. who knows what dimitri and dedue - and now felix - are getting up to outside anymore. ]
Did I overdo it, Professor?
[ not the time for a sincere question, maybe. sylvain sighs. he brushes back the hair from byleth's face, tucking some of it behind his ear. the rest falls back over his forehead. he really does almost look the same age as them like this, relaxed and sleepy and open. ]
Think we should try heading back then? I'll play chess back at the monastery with you, if you'd like.
[ Byleth is only dimly aware of Felix leaving, though he can sort of guess that it happened judging by the consternation and disappointment on Sylvain's face. He'd like to be more of a comfort to the poor redhead, but the professor himself is feeling a little tired, so he settles for being a useless lapcat instead, openly enjoying Sylvain's attention to his silky hair. ]
No... we should all go back together. [ Professor must take responsibility for his students..>! Even if he's a little drunk and drowsy at the moment. ] I'll round everyone up before we go.
[ Sighing, Byleth resolves to at least muster an effort. He's supposed to be the adult here, even if he's likely not significantly older than any of them. He blinks, and there's a bit more of an alertness in his eyes, though he still doesn't get up where he's lying over Sylvain's body. ]
...You should just tell him if you like him. Don't you think?
[ sylvain looks down at his water and sighs into byleth's hair. it's excellent advice. and he should take it. asking someone out has never been difficult for him before. but... ]
What if he hates me for it? I can't lose him, Professor.
[ because who else was there for sylvain after conand tower when miklan died on his lance? sylvain has become so used to having felix around every day, right where he needs him. what if felix isn't there anymore? and more than that, he is there for felix. sylvain has been there every time he cried: when he scrapped his knee, when he fell behind in training, when his brother died. how different would their lives be if they couldn't be together anymore because...because... ]
He's more important to me than that.
[ sylvain sighs, hiding his face one last time in byleth's hair before he reaches over to clap ashe on the shoulder. ]
[ It feels sort of nice, actually, when Sylvain buries himself in Byleth's hair. Jeralt was a good man, a good father, but he wasn't physically affectionate; Byleth doesn't blame him for this, since it was probably his own fault in a way. Hard to want to constantly hold or cuddle your child when he doesn't seem to respond to it any one way or another.
But Byleth likes physical affection as much as anyone else, so when Sylvain nuzzles close, it's hard to not want to hold him there, stroke his hair a little. Still, they should look alive. Ashe yelps slightly at being clapped unexpectedly, but then laughs, holds his hands out. "Do you need help with the Professor? I can carry him, I think..."
Byleth huffs a little under his breath because he doesn't think Ashe should be carrying him (he doesn't realize that he's not as heavy as he thinks he is). As he tries to stumble to his feet — he might need Sylvain's or Ashe's help, actually — he murmurs: ]
I think you're more important to him than that, too.
[ What he means by this: that Felix and Sylvain's friendship should be able to survive a potential rejection, even if by some chance Felix were to actually reject Sylvain. ]
[ sylvain waves ashe off with a laugh. ] I've got the professor, you get the others, all right?
[ byleth is not especially tall or bulky like sylvain, dimitri, or dedue. he's easy to scoop up into his arms. what's a little bridal style carry between friends, right? who would've thought the professor to be such a lightweight? they make their way out of the tavern like that, with byleth's head pillowed on sylvain's shoulder. felix has that angry silence about him again and gruffly grabs ashe by the arm to haul him back to the monastery, but dimitri hurries on ahead of them and dedue is hot on his heels, of course.
so it's just him and byleth once again. typical. sylvain sighs, taking a more leisurely approach as they walk. ]
[ Byleth closes his eyes for a long moment. He might actually have dozed off standing for a second. He's oblivious to the exchange happening between Sylvain and Ashe, at least up until he's being swept off his feet and he realizes that Sylvain has correctly read him as being incapable of hobbling out on his own, and is intent on carrying him back to the monastery.
Well. Alright. The nice thing about Byleth being drunk is that — unlike Felix for example, who would probably bristle and snarl and fight back like a yowling cat — Byleth just sort of submits to the care immediately, like a kitten that's used to going limp after being scruffed. Limp and clinging to Sylvain's neck, he's pretty easy to carry, all things considered. Hard to imagine that the Ashen Demon that held Fodlan's mercenaries in such terror is actually so slight and slender underneath the armor (and honestly, even with it on).
He lolls heavily against Sylvain's chest and takes a deep breath. Actually... his fragrance isn't so bad, now that they're outdoors. Maybe it was just the smell of the tavern he didn't like. ]
Are you sure that he's not just jealous because you're carrying me like a sack of potatoes?
[ In spite of his state of inebriation, Byleth still manages to sound alert when he asks the question. ]
Like I said, I'd just tell him.
[ Okay, but to be fair, Byleth also hasn't acted on — whatever the hell is going on between him and Dimitri, so maybe he's one to talk... ]
[ from here! a few months later, after defeating miklan ]
hey. professor. sorry. it's late. just couldn't sleep. i was thinking about when we were talking that one time. about being a spoiled noble and the monsters hiding in the blue lions house. so. now you know what i was talking about, at least. you met him.
[ It's been a few months, and the new professor has softened considerably. Not so much yet that anyone has managed to make him smile or laugh — indeed, he's still as stoic as ever. But it's been long enough that most of the class has seen him do things like gently cup his hands around a grasshopper bumping against the glass in the greenhouse to let it free outside, or stop to pet the cats before class, and everyone sort of agrees now that there is nothing very scary about the Ashen Demon at all.
(Dimitri might actually have the beginning signs of a crush. Not that any of the other Blue Lions have noticed. Dedue might know, but as with all things concerning His Highness, the young man from Duscur keeps completely silent. But maybe Sylvain has taken note of the sort of bright and bushy-tailed way that Dimitri always straightens whenever Byleth enters a room. The slight color to his cheeks when he receives praise.)
Regardless. They have just confronted Miklan, and Byleth knows a little more about why Sylvain acted the way that he did.
He still doesn't see any monsters. Just broken men. Even the beast that Miklan became — only a broken man in the end. ]
which part? the part about the good old noblemen of faerghus?
[ that faerghus - including sylvain's father - was not kind to her nobles. so why should the nobles be kind to their children? sylvain was spoiled, though, when he compared himself to his brother. he was still the gautier heir, after all. he was still part of the family. that, already, was more than miklan ever got. didn't that make him spoiled? ]
yeah, i should've seen that coming. it didn't start like that i think i liked the attention, but then...people wanted more than that so i gave that to them too
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@sheezit
[ byleth, misunderstanding the thought to give him some makeup: ]
Is it... that bad?
I realized a long time ago that I must have a frightening face, but I didn't think the situation was so dire that I should cover it up. Jeralt always says I resemble my mother...
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[ give him a moment, he needs to process the fact that "frightening" is what Byleth got out of this. man, Jeralt must really have sheltered this guy... ]
That's not what I meant at all. You only look frightening because of your reputation, but you're not ruggedy and scarred and all rough around the edges like most mercs. If anything, you're too pretty to be a merc.
[ wait, he just heard himself talk-- ]
I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd probably think you were closer to a noble rather than a warrior.
[ actually, just noble doesn't cut it, either... who else is it that Byleth reminds him of....... ]
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(the fact he's never been hit on is probably solely because it would be wildly inappropriate to make a move on the captain's son; the women who would've looked at him with interest would've realized it was better to admire him from afar, and any men that dared to make a move would've probably been impassively thrashed by jeralt for the insult. mostly just because they would've been closer to jeralt's age than byleth's.)
but shez says he's pretty... that's a new one. is he pretty? jeralt says he resembles his mother, but byleth always figured he meant more in terms of coloring than looks... ]
Am I...? I've really never thought about it.
It is a little overwhelming, I have to admit. The company that Jeralt and I usually keep... it's always been coarser. Rougher. But there are so many nobles here... with pretty faces and soft hands and sweet perfumes. I don't know how I feel about it yet.
You also have a handsome face, I think. The others must admire you greatly.
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[ the audacity of some random NPCs, I swear!! but on the other hand, Shez is practically an expert at friendzoning everyone, and it's mostly unintentional, too. too many Earnest Feelings openly professed, and not enough willingness to put down roots anytime soon. he loves the nomadic life of mercenaries too much to settle down.
(that might as well work as his alibi, too, in case Jeralt personally goes over Byleth's messenger owl logs. he's not trying to woo the pants off your son, promise!) ]
But I definitely get you on feeling overwhelmed around all these nobles and their fancy habits. Took me a long time to get used to it, and honestly I still can't say I've figured out all the proper etiquette for their tea parties...
[ oh. oh careful now. this is one of those rare moments the wheels in his brain are spinning, he's gonna do it, gonna produce one (1) whole Idea...!! ]
Hey, I bet you would have a much easier time with that! Why don't you give it a try?
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I don't mind, but...
Ah. Does this have something to do with your... image-softening idea from earlier?
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[ ... yeah okay, he can see as some nobles might look even more intimidating in this kind of setting, but unless Byleth is somehow tossed into a position of power like Supreme Ruler of Fodlan (in this timeline) that shouldn't be a problem! ]
Besides, everyone is always thrilled when I take them out on expeditions. Guess fun breaks are always welcome.
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[ byleth does have... some advantage over shez in the tea parties department. namely, that byleth is a lot better at sitting perfectly still. ]
Having fun... I'll keep that in mind.
What do you do for fun, Shez?
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[ well. more or less, anyway. he can't keep quiet for very long, he's a meowcenary with a permanent case of zoomies, you see. ]
But besides the usual merc stuff like sparring and going drinking with your buddies, I guess I have fun the most just by hanging out with friends and getting to know them better. Always feels nice to put a smile on their faces, too, even if it's just by chatting them up or giving them a little gift to boost morale. Pretty boring, huh?
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You sound like a very kind person.
I should... try harder. Maybe. I don't think I've ever even gotten Jeralt a gift...
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I don't know about kind, but this is the first time I've gotten around to making lasting bonds with friends. You know how it goes with mercs- you're all the best of buds until there's one less head to split your cut of the pay.
Anyway, I think giving Jeralt a gift might be a good place to start! Flowers are mostly popular with everyone... Do you know if he's got any favorites?
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Growing up, he always told me to forgive people if I could. But a lot of the time, he said, you can't.
I don't know... I'll look around. But that's a good idea. Flowers, I mean.
People tend to think that Jeralt is all about the mercenary life. That all he cares about is alcohol and combat and coin. But he's not really like that, deep down.
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[ and... they both know how that turned out, so. best to drop that topic right there! ]
Anyway, I know better than to judge a book by its cover, and Jeralt is no different. It's obvious he cares a whole lot about you. Worries, even, that you don't have a lot of friends your own age. Surprisingly overprotective, right?
[ does Byleth even know Jeralt all but asked Shez to take care of him? he's not old enough to adopt a kid this big! ]
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I'm still sorry for trying to kill you.
[ — TOO LATE, shez is talking to captain tactless and so he will address how he feels head-on. but hey... at least byleth means it? and he did hesitate long enough, before killing shez, that he gave arval the chance to... wake up and stuff... anyway, it worked out...! ]
...Does he really worry that much?
It's not that I don't believe you. It's just that he doesn't really talk to me about things like that.
[ naturally, he wouldn't, given that "my kid has no friends" isn't really a problem that can be fixed by addressing said kid. besides, jeralt always took the position that byleth was fine the way he was and didn't need to change himself. but... ]
And when I was a child, Jeralt knew that I could fend for myself, so he usually didn't have problems leaving me alone or by myself for a few days... or weeks...
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Hey, don't worry about it-- water under the bridge, okay? That's how it goes between mercenaries.
[ besides, Shez also tried to kill Byleth while they were on the same side, though in his defense, he wasn't really himself, either. ugh. why must everything be so complicated between them... ]
Anyway, I'm sure Jeralt knows better than anyone that you can expertly handle yourself with a sword, yeah, but that's not really what he worries about. He just wants to know you have some friends, make sure you're not, you know, lonely and all.
[ there's a distinct 'when Jeralt is gone' bit that Shez has made the elective decision to omit because, well, he doesn't want to sound any unnecessary alarms. ]
no subject
[ and lonely when he's not... maybe. that's implied, maybe. ]
I'm not sure I have other friends.
@lackingluster
[ Byleth was apparently not kidding about being a clingy, sleepy drunk.
As soon as he finishes his first glass of whiskey, he's drowsy, his long lashes fluttering as he struggles to keep them open. In the next moment, he's fully — or apparently near-fully — asleep. He's just conscious enough to mumble incoherently as he clings first to poor Felix (who happened to be nearby, and much to Byleth's slumbering surprise, does not immediately shove the professor off, but instead grudgingly passes him over to "the boar") and then to Dimitri, who seems equal parts embarrassed and pleased to be the professor's teddy bear. It's a wonder that Byleth can sleep in the crowded, loud bar.
Despite Sylvain's best efforts to make this a "Manwhore Monday" for the ages, none of the other Blue Lions seem inclined to flirt with any of the young women in town (who are mostly just peasant girls and the occasional wandering mercenary, given that this is no place for eligible noblewomen to spend their time). Instead, they seem more inclined to laugh and chat among themselves.
At length, Dimitri politely excuses himself, ostensibly to go out into the cold air outside to sober up a little, but perhaps also because he's flushed so dark pink that he's nearly crimson; Byleth has not made things easy for him, being very happy to squeeze whoever — or whatever — is in reach of his arms. "I'm sorry, Sylvain, could you watch the professor for a moment?" the prince (king, everyone keeps having to correct themselves) asks, gently disentangling himself from Byleth's greedy limbs so he can, apparently, go get some air.
Dedue goes to accompany the young king, as always, so that leaves Felix and Ashe and Sylvain with the professor on Sylvain's shoulder, practically in Sylvain's lap.
He still has his eyes closed, but he also seems mostly awake. ]
Mmmnnh...
[ Byleth rubs his head against Sylvain's shoulder. ]
...You wear too much perfume...
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instead, he mother hens. who wants food, who needs to be topped off, who needs water.
and sure, he could be chatting up the girls in town, telling them how pretty they look in the torchlight and sneaking out to the alley for a sloppy handjob, but actually, this is way more fun. he might have oversold manwhore monday to the professor. it might be more like "man distracts himself from the sorrows in his life monday," but who's keeping track, really.
besides, he enjoys ashe's bawdy laugh and dimitri chugging an entire flagon of beer himself while the blue lions cheer him on a lot more. felix even cracks a smile. it was definitely worth the wheedling it took to get them all to come out.
he waves dimitri off, no doubt needing to cool off from byleth hanging off him all night. the professor had not been kidding about the clinginess, but it's...cute. he's a warm, comforting weight on sylvain's shoulder. reminds him almost of felix when they were younger, trying to stay up late at night to watch the fireflies in the garden. but when he tries to catch felix's eye and smile, he can't. of course felix has already turned away. what'd sylvain expect? ]
Sorry, Professor. I'll wear less for you next time.
[ he brings a hand up, combing slowly through byleth's hair. it's softer than he'd imagined it being. ]
Guess I better cut you off, huh? We still gotta make it home with you after all, you party animal. [ as though sylvain hasn't been plying byleth with water for the last hour or so. ] So? How's your first Manwhore Monday?
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(And, yes, many years ago, when he was still enough of a boy to be childish but enough of a man to drink with the other mercenaries, he was prone to doing this to Jeralt, too, clinging to the man's broad chest, nuzzling into the soft prickle of his beard until his father started stroking his back and took him up to an inn room to sleep.)
Sylvain does not have a beard for him to nuzzle into, but Byleth seems to enjoy the stroking of his silky hair all the same. He shifts his cheek pillowed against Sylvain's chest, completely oblivious to the way that Felix seems to be getting slightly huffy about the whole thing.
The professor's voice is low and sleepy when he speaks. ]
It was okay.
[ Just okay?! ]
Next time... we should bring games. Of the kind that Claude seems to like.
[ ...Like... board games...? ]
'Cause Felix gets all competitive... and it'd make Dimitri laugh...
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[ sylvain gives him a lopsided grin as he leans back in his seat. one hand steadies both their weight on the bench. byleth's hair tickles where it brushes along the collar of his shirt and the skin he exposes as he nuzzles. ]
Felix isn't really the type for chess, though. He much prefers fighting himself than letting the pieces do it for him, right, Fe?
[ another hopeful attempt at getting felix to smile at him, dashed when felix shoots to his feet in a huff. there's some kind of murmur about air or maybe dimitri needing him or whatever excuse he feels he needs to get away from sylvain as fast as possible.
of course.
ashe is all but fallen asleep against the wall on sylvain's other side. who knows what dimitri and dedue - and now felix - are getting up to outside anymore. ]
Did I overdo it, Professor?
[ not the time for a sincere question, maybe. sylvain sighs. he brushes back the hair from byleth's face, tucking some of it behind his ear. the rest falls back over his forehead. he really does almost look the same age as them like this, relaxed and sleepy and open. ]
Think we should try heading back then? I'll play chess back at the monastery with you, if you'd like.
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No... we should all go back together. [ Professor must take responsibility for his students..>! Even if he's a little drunk and drowsy at the moment. ] I'll round everyone up before we go.
[ Sighing, Byleth resolves to at least muster an effort. He's supposed to be the adult here, even if he's likely not significantly older than any of them. He blinks, and there's a bit more of an alertness in his eyes, though he still doesn't get up where he's lying over Sylvain's body. ]
...You should just tell him if you like him. Don't you think?
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What if he hates me for it? I can't lose him, Professor.
[ because who else was there for sylvain after conand tower when miklan died on his lance? sylvain has become so used to having felix around every day, right where he needs him. what if felix isn't there anymore? and more than that, he is there for felix. sylvain has been there every time he cried: when he scrapped his knee, when he fell behind in training, when his brother died. how different would their lives be if they couldn't be together anymore because...because... ]
He's more important to me than that.
[ sylvain sighs, hiding his face one last time in byleth's hair before he reaches over to clap ashe on the shoulder. ]
But you said we should go, right?
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But Byleth likes physical affection as much as anyone else, so when Sylvain nuzzles close, it's hard to not want to hold him there, stroke his hair a little. Still, they should look alive. Ashe yelps slightly at being clapped unexpectedly, but then laughs, holds his hands out. "Do you need help with the Professor? I can carry him, I think..."
Byleth huffs a little under his breath because he doesn't think Ashe should be carrying him (he doesn't realize that he's not as heavy as he thinks he is). As he tries to stumble to his feet — he might need Sylvain's or Ashe's help, actually — he murmurs: ]
I think you're more important to him than that, too.
[ What he means by this: that Felix and Sylvain's friendship should be able to survive a potential rejection, even if by some chance Felix were to actually reject Sylvain. ]
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[ byleth is not especially tall or bulky like sylvain, dimitri, or dedue. he's easy to scoop up into his arms. what's a little bridal style carry between friends, right? who would've thought the professor to be such a lightweight? they make their way out of the tavern like that, with byleth's head pillowed on sylvain's shoulder. felix has that angry silence about him again and gruffly grabs ashe by the arm to haul him back to the monastery, but dimitri hurries on ahead of them and dedue is hot on his heels, of course.
so it's just him and byleth once again. typical. sylvain sighs, taking a more leisurely approach as they walk. ]
Professor, what would you do?
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Well. Alright. The nice thing about Byleth being drunk is that — unlike Felix for example, who would probably bristle and snarl and fight back like a yowling cat — Byleth just sort of submits to the care immediately, like a kitten that's used to going limp after being scruffed. Limp and clinging to Sylvain's neck, he's pretty easy to carry, all things considered. Hard to imagine that the Ashen Demon that held Fodlan's mercenaries in such terror is actually so slight and slender underneath the armor (and honestly, even with it on).
He lolls heavily against Sylvain's chest and takes a deep breath. Actually... his fragrance isn't so bad, now that they're outdoors. Maybe it was just the smell of the tavern he didn't like. ]
Are you sure that he's not just jealous because you're carrying me like a sack of potatoes?
[ In spite of his state of inebriation, Byleth still manages to sound alert when he asks the question. ]
Like I said, I'd just tell him.
[ Okay, but to be fair, Byleth also hasn't acted on — whatever the hell is going on between him and Dimitri, so maybe he's one to talk... ]
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hey. professor.
sorry. it's late. just couldn't sleep.
i was thinking about when we were talking that one time.
about being a spoiled noble and the monsters hiding in the blue lions house.
so. now you know what i was talking about, at least. you met him.
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(Dimitri might actually have the beginning signs of a crush. Not that any of the other Blue Lions have noticed. Dedue might know, but as with all things concerning His Highness, the young man from Duscur keeps completely silent. But maybe Sylvain has taken note of the sort of bright and bushy-tailed way that Dimitri always straightens whenever Byleth enters a room. The slight color to his cheeks when he receives praise.)
Regardless. They have just confronted Miklan, and Byleth knows a little more about why Sylvain acted the way that he did.
He still doesn't see any monsters. Just broken men. Even the beast that Miklan became — only a broken man in the end. ]
Yes. I remember.
I still stand by what I said.
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the part about the good old noblemen of faerghus?
[ that faerghus - including sylvain's father - was not kind to her nobles. so why should the nobles be kind to their children? sylvain was spoiled, though, when he compared himself to his brother. he was still the gautier heir, after all. he was still part of the family. that, already, was more than miklan ever got. didn't that make him spoiled? ]
or the part about hurting myself
[ both? both. ]
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[ no surprises there. ]
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it didn't start like that
i think i liked the attention, but then...people wanted more than that so
i gave that to them too
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no.
i hoped they would like me for me, but i couldn't tell who was genuine and who wasn't
so i just assumed none of them were
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