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(fic) fire emblem: three houses (felix/sylvain)
c. 550w build up to first time sex.
“You’re overthinking this,” Felix tells him, lips against his ear. “It’s not a big deal.”
Sylvain wants to laugh, but it catches somewhere in his throat. Right. It’s only sex. It’s only Felix.
It’s only the biggest deal the whole world.
He’s meant to be taking the lead here, considering he’s the one with more experience. Except it turns out that all that experience counts for nothing here; Sylvain is used to sex with partners he doesn’t bother to remember. He’s used to it being a means to an end. It’s pleasure, it’s subtle violence with invisible claws that hook into his bedmates and leave them wanting more than he’ll ever give, and it’s never anything more.
What he’s doing here with Felix is uncharted territory, his ship lost in the middle of a storm with no sense of direction and no idea of which way is up.
Felix sighs softly. It isn’t impatience but it will be, if Sylvain isn’t careful. It’s a sigh that he knows well.
“Sylvain.” Felix’s fingers are in his hair, pulling his head up so they are looking at each other. Whatever he’s about to say, Felix must mean it because he doesn’t look away even once. “It’s me. This isn’t going to change anything that hasn’t already changed. I know what I want. I want this.”
There’s another laugh that dies halfway between Sylvain’s throat and his lips. He wants to warn Felix that he has no idea what he’s asking for, that he has no idea what Sylvain really is. Except if there is only one person in this entire world who knows Sylvain, it’s Felix. He’s not after a crest or a suitor or a noble to secure his future. He isn’t here to satisfy his curiosity about whether the rumours are true, good or bad.
Felix is here purely for Sylvain. Apparently, Sylvain doesn’t only have someone who can see through the pretenses Sylvain wraps himself in, the same way those back home layer up to protect themselves against the cold. He has someone who sees through them and still wants what they find underneath.
He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve Felix.
“Shut up,” Felix grouses. Apparently, Sylvain hasn’t kept the thought to himself. “This is not about you. It’s not about me, either. It’s about us and we’re not doing anything unless we both want it. So tell me if you want me to put my clothes back on.”
“No.” At least this one’s easy. His hands go to Felix’s side to keep him where he is, straddling Sylvain’s lap with his underwear leaving very little to the imagination. Now that Sylvain’s thinking about it, he can’t stop. He licks his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “No, stay. I want this too.”
The ghost of a smile twitches on Felix’s lips, gone too soon for Sylvain to figure out whether it’s relieved or smug.
“Okay.” Felix reaches for the small bottle of oil resting by the bed. He presses it into Sylvain’s hands, fingers warm as they brush together. “I don’t need to tell you what to do.”
“You don’t,” Sylvain agrees, uncorking the bottle and dipping two fingers into the oil. “…But I think we’ll both enjoy it if you do.”
Felix grins, sharp and hungry. Sylvain can’t wait to be eaten alive.
“You’re overthinking this,” Felix tells him, lips against his ear. “It’s not a big deal.”
Sylvain wants to laugh, but it catches somewhere in his throat. Right. It’s only sex. It’s only Felix.
It’s only the biggest deal the whole world.
He’s meant to be taking the lead here, considering he’s the one with more experience. Except it turns out that all that experience counts for nothing here; Sylvain is used to sex with partners he doesn’t bother to remember. He’s used to it being a means to an end. It’s pleasure, it’s subtle violence with invisible claws that hook into his bedmates and leave them wanting more than he’ll ever give, and it’s never anything more.
What he’s doing here with Felix is uncharted territory, his ship lost in the middle of a storm with no sense of direction and no idea of which way is up.
Felix sighs softly. It isn’t impatience but it will be, if Sylvain isn’t careful. It’s a sigh that he knows well.
“Sylvain.” Felix’s fingers are in his hair, pulling his head up so they are looking at each other. Whatever he’s about to say, Felix must mean it because he doesn’t look away even once. “It’s me. This isn’t going to change anything that hasn’t already changed. I know what I want. I want this.”
There’s another laugh that dies halfway between Sylvain’s throat and his lips. He wants to warn Felix that he has no idea what he’s asking for, that he has no idea what Sylvain really is. Except if there is only one person in this entire world who knows Sylvain, it’s Felix. He’s not after a crest or a suitor or a noble to secure his future. He isn’t here to satisfy his curiosity about whether the rumours are true, good or bad.
Felix is here purely for Sylvain. Apparently, Sylvain doesn’t only have someone who can see through the pretenses Sylvain wraps himself in, the same way those back home layer up to protect themselves against the cold. He has someone who sees through them and still wants what they find underneath.
He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve Felix.
“Shut up,” Felix grouses. Apparently, Sylvain hasn’t kept the thought to himself. “This is not about you. It’s not about me, either. It’s about us and we’re not doing anything unless we both want it. So tell me if you want me to put my clothes back on.”
“No.” At least this one’s easy. His hands go to Felix’s side to keep him where he is, straddling Sylvain’s lap with his underwear leaving very little to the imagination. Now that Sylvain’s thinking about it, he can’t stop. He licks his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “No, stay. I want this too.”
The ghost of a smile twitches on Felix’s lips, gone too soon for Sylvain to figure out whether it’s relieved or smug.
“Okay.” Felix reaches for the small bottle of oil resting by the bed. He presses it into Sylvain’s hands, fingers warm as they brush together. “I don’t need to tell you what to do.”
“You don’t,” Sylvain agrees, uncorking the bottle and dipping two fingers into the oil. “…But I think we’ll both enjoy it if you do.”
Felix grins, sharp and hungry. Sylvain can’t wait to be eaten alive.