Felix doesn't have to admit a damn thing. Sylvain's already found him guilty, and is grinning like an idiot against his neck.

Ah, but that's a sweet sound, isn't it? It's certainly not a request to stop either. Sylvain presses kisses along the line of his pulse, tracing it down to his collar, and nosing into the crux of his neck and shoulder.

"How long do you think we have until Dimitri shows up?" No- no, reason, he's just asking of course.