[ 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... ]
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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. ]
no subject
[ 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... ]