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