victory_road | ❖ Act & Exposition, VR edt. [Permanent Catch-All]

"No, but I could be your prize," Sylvain amends, waggling his eyebrows at Felix like it's meant to work any kind of charm.

It's amusing to Sylvain that all these things Felix does, so many others do for the attention and accolades. Yet Felix is allergic to it by whatever twist of fate. Fame and glory could be this man's everything if he ever wanted.

"Yeah, I caught that part, O' brilliant mind." He says it with a cheeky smirk, and motions for Felix to continue. "I meant more of why didn't you tell me. Did you think I'd make fun of you or something? Because I swear, I wouldn't."

Felix snorts and covers Sylvain's face with his hand, pushing it away lightly. "Is that supposed to be some kind of incentive?"

It's true - were Felix ever to crave the public eye and their adoration, he could have them easily. But he doesn't want the attention of strangers; he barely tolerates the attention of those he knows. He had a taste of the celebrity life last winter when the Snorunts caused that whole boy band mixup, and he loathed every second of it.

Felix rolls his eyes, but has to think about the answer for a moment. "I suppose perhaps I did. Or that you would attempt to drag me into the spotlight." That's a bit wry, considering what they were just talking about a minute ago. Then he shrugs. "It was supposed to be something just for myself. Back then, at least. An indulgence. Obviously, during the war it was harder to find the time."

There's a muffled laugh against Felix's palm, and Sylvain ducks his head after a moment. Laying it on Felix' lap, he's still grinning.

"What, you're not charmed? I'm offended." Sylvain lightly bats at Felix's hand, and gives something akin to a shrug. It's a little odd given how he's half laid on Felix, and half on the bed.

"Ah, well I'd probably have suggested it at least- not that I can even imagine little you ever wanting to dance in front of people. But sometimes it's nice to have your own space, regardless. I get it."

A beat.

"Although... maybe you could still dance. But, y'know, letting me watch?"

Felix allows his hand to be batted away, only to relocate it back in Sylvain's hair again, idly running his fingers through it. "Charmed by what, the idea of 'winning' something I already have? How is that charming?"

He looks down at Sylvain with a small smirk, one eyebrow lifted. "That was my plan. But there's no room for it in here. We'll have to find somewhere else that's private on the ship."

"Oh c'mon, you like winning in general." Sylvain could sass him more, but honestly he's placated by the hand in his hair. He ends up settling his head back down again, nearly purring with the pets.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find somewhere," he says with a lazy lilt. Eyes half-lidded, he looks about ready to fall asleep in Felix's lap. His voice slurs a bit even. "With that kind of motivation, I'll find a perfect venue."

"I do. And I don't need prizes for it. The badge alone will suffice." Sylvain's been back for about a month, but even so, Felix is still getting used to seeing him so content again. The blazing determination that he would do anything to keep making Sylvain this happy forever surges through him just as it did months ago, and he refuses to think about how tenuous it truly is. Not now.

"You're falling asleep. If you want to nap, don't do it like this. Come here." He pushes Sylvain off his lap so he can take off his shoes and then pull back the covers to lie down properly. He holds them open as an invitation.

"Yeah, but I'm better than a silly badge," Sylvain half-protests, half-yawns.

He doesn't even complain when his comfy lap space is taken away. Swaying a little, he's quick to properly lay down, and try to drag Felix with him.

"Nap with me. Then we can go watch you win, yeah?"

Edited (Mooooooobile give me my damn icons istg) 2022-01-29 20:58 (UTC)

"You are," Felix agrees, not seeing this as a particularly useful argument against what he said despite it being a true statement.

He lets Sylvain pull him close, and feels more relaxed than he has in months. He's not usually one for naps, but Sylvain's not the only one who's been stressed out about the situation at the house, and right now he doesn't want to leave Sylvain's side.

"All right. A short nap." He tilts his head to kiss Sylvain before settling back against the pillows properly.

'Short nap' is relative. Sylvain's out for nearly two hours, and insists upon being cuddled with Felix the entire time. Any slight twitch, and he fusses in his sleep. Even when he's waking, he squeezes around Felix's middle, and noses against his shoulder.

Groggy, with eyes still closed, he mutters something muffled. It's akin to, "you should show me some dancing... wanna see."

Felix wakes up about 45 minutes in, and it becomes obvious quickly that Sylvain does not want him to get up. Which is annoying - and worse, boring - but he waited months never knowing whether he would ever have this again, so he stays. Just this once, he tells himself, which is probably a lie.

He can't just lie there and do nothing, though, and he's not tired enough to go back to sleep, so he manages to reach his Gear on the bedside table and fiddles with it a bit. In the back of his mind percolates a mild amazement that no matter what Sylvain remembers or doesn't remember, all it takes is for Felix to tell him he's interested and Sylvain goes from zero to must cuddle immediately. In a way, it makes Felix wish he'd said something sooner, but ultimately he thinks Sylvain had the right idea, waiting until they're no longer fighting for their lives every day.

When Sylvain eventually stirs, Felix puts his Gear down and wriggles around to face him without breaking his grasp. "I would, but you'd have to let go of me first."

That's the consequence of pining for your best friend for years. The moment he's allowed, Sylvain overindulged. Not that he thinks this is overindulgent, so much as making up for lost time. The only interest he never pursued despite how badly he wanted it, how it never left him alone.

His hold on Felix loosens just a bit to allow him to move, and squeezes him close again just as soon. Nearly nose to nose with him, Sylvain offers a lazy smile.

"That's a hard choice," he drawls, pretending to actually mull it over. But a moment later, he reluctantly shifts his arms to roll onto his back and stretch. "Alright, I've made my sacrifice, you have to show me now."

Felix snorts. "I don't have to do anything. Fortunately for you, this was my plan anyway. But there's not enough room here, we'll have to find somewhere else."

He gets out of bed and stretches, too, before grabbing his backpack and heading out the door with nothing more than a glance over his shoulder at Sylvain. "Better hurry up, or you'll miss it."

He has some idea of where he's going, because one of the things he was doing on his Gear while Sylvain was asleep was looking at the rundown of all the spaces on the ship. There's a particular lounge that doesn't open until after-dinner hours, which Felix is sure Varley can pick her way into one way or another. Sure enough, when he follows the ship's map there, the door is shut and locked, but with a little Hone Claws action and a minute or two, his Liepard gets it open without fuss.

And then she gets back into her ball, because she knows what's coming next and she'd rather not be there, thanks.

Inside, the room is round and cozy, with a small dance floor in the center, a collection of plush sofas and huge beanbag chairs scattered around its edges, and a bar in the back. Felix sets a hand on one hip and surveys it with a critical eye, then nods. It will do.

Yeah, he's not about to miss that for the world. Sylvain's up and following after Felix with his boots only haphazardly on. He'll fix them once he's caught up to Felix, but he dares not lose his only guide on the boat. Especially the guide about to show off for him.

"Heh, look at you. Learn that from Ashe?" Sylvain teases, watching Felix and his Liepard nonchalantly lockpick their way into a room. He's not complaining though.

Sylvain makes sure the door shuts silently behind them, and flips the lock back to make sure this little show stays private. Then he's observing the room beside Felix. Less critically, but he still finds it up to snuff, and lounges back on one of the plush sofas.

"To your approval then, stud?"

"She knew how to do that well before Ashe ever arrived here. She's been a troublemaker since day one." It sounds both exasperated and fond, as Varley swishes her tail with a decidedly smug air and otherwise ignores Felix's assessment entirely.

Felix makes a face, setting a hand on one hip. "I'm not a 'stud.' Quit calling me stupid things. But...yes. It's a good space. I'm going to get changed."

He heads for the restroom near the bar and changes fairly quickly into one of the outfits he brought with him from his wardrobe at Medusa. Then he pulls his hair loose and brushes it out, and beckons to Assal to unsheathe itself and float along with Felix as he goes back out into the lounge.

He walks with an easy confidence to the dance floor in the middle of the room and sinks gracefully to a seated position so he can begin a series of stretches. He's not about to dance without stretching first...and sure, he could have done this in the restroom, but why deprive Sylvain of the opportunity to watch?

Sylvain will not stop calling him stupid things, actually.

"Don't keep me waiting too long, babe," and adds a wink at Felix's retreating form for good measure.

When he returns, Sylvain is lounging back in the seats, an arm slung haphazardly over the backing. But his posture notably shifts to something far more attentive when he sees Felix.

Oh. His heart does funny things watching the way the fabric flows around Felix's legs, leaving so much of his upper thighs bare. How the jewelry glints, and how sheer the fabric is that Sylvain can fill in what little he can't directly see beneath. He swallows dryly before leaning forward in his seat, upper half draped over the railing that separates the stage from the would-be audience. Just barely out of touching reach, but he could fix that.

"Need any help, gorgeous?"

"I'm not a 'babe,' either." Felix rolls his eyes as he vanishes into the restroom - as if Sylvain would go anywhere and risk missing out.

Seeing the look on Sylvain's face when he comes back out is incredibly satisfying. Felix smirks; his next stretch is angled to give Sylvain an extremely good view of his legs. On purpose or coincidence? Who knows?

"No," he replies in a tone that's almost dismissive, finishing up his stretches and then standing to move into the center of the dance floor with an air of distant, untouchable grace. He plucks half of the Doublade from the air, holding one sword by the hilt while the other remains floating nearby, and takes up a stance that's somewhat like one he might use on the battlefield, but less practical and more poised. The other half of the Doublade moves off to press a button on Felix's Gear sitting on the bar - starting the music.

Some of his dance should be familiar to Sylvain, drawing directly from the style of battlefield sword dancing they used in the war. Those moves are interspersed and seamlessly blended with both proper ballet steps and the burlesque dances he's learned from Lust. At first, the three elements are fairly balanced with each other, but as the dance goes on, the burlesque style gradually takes over.

At some point, he releases the sword altogether and lets his movements take him closer to Sylvain, until the only distance that separates them is the rail - but Felix keeps dancing, and doesn't make any move to touch him.

Sylvain audibly whines when he's told no, but behaves enough not to disobey either. He simply watches, whiskey-dark eyes following Felix with want. He looks a bit like a puppy begging for attention, brows tilted up just so.

At least he does until Felix's dance actually starts. Then his expression is pure enrapture. The light catches his eyes in such a way it's almost starry, his everything wrapped around holding Felix in his sight. He's beautiful and entrancing, and always has been. There'd been more than a few battles that Sylvain had been caught staring at the form and figure of Felix darting into the fray. Now though? Now he's allowed to watch unabashed. Follows every curve and flash of skin and silk.

It's beautiful, and then its raw and demanding his attention. He's probably not supposed to touch, but good luck getting his hands not to wander. When Felix draws near, it move on it's own, trying to brush along his leg. It's wanting, but in a tender, mesmerized way. Like Sylvain's watching the dance of something ethereal and celestial and all things out of his league. And if the music wasn't playing over it, Sylvain's fairly certain Felix could hear how his heart soars and thunders for him.

That whine only makes Felix look more self-satisfied, and that gaze warms him up from the inside out. Does he want Sylvain to touch him? Of course. But not yet. Making him wait has its own appeal.

Felix remembers those times when he would turn from felling an opponent in battle to find Sylvain watching him. At the time, focused on the fight and concerned about Sylvain taking his eyes off his own foes, Felix would simply tell him to stop gawking before he got himself killed like the fool he is, and think little more of it. In retrospect, Sylvain's staring might have been a subconscious inspiration for his decision to start performing.

Felix pulls back from that hand, just far enough to deny Sylvain the touch. For now. The rail serves his purposes well; he stretches a leg up onto it and uses it as a sort of horizontal pole to dance with. Still, anytime Sylvain tries to touch him again, he pulls back.

Finally, as the music nears its end, Felix lets himself down on Sylvain's side of the rail to straddle his lap. They don't do lap dances at Medusa, but Felix knows well enough how to use the internet to figure out that they exist. Seated, now, he keeps moving to what remains of the music, giving Sylvain a look that plainly dares him to try touching him again.

You can't dare a man like Sylvain if you don't expect him to take a little something from it. Of course he wants to be a good boy, obedient and patient for his treat, but he's always been trouble. And a good boy can only be so lenient in waiting and whining for his reward. There's a hungry flash in his whiskey-dark eyes that says he's about to be anything but good when Felix ends up in his lap.

Sylvain picks his legs up to brace his heels against the rail, and leans the seat back to be comfortably beneath Felix. He watches Felix down the line of his body, head tilted just so to bare his throat a little. Not quite submission, but respect for the pretty, dangerous thing so tantalizingly across his hips.

Broad, strong hands find the bare skin of Felix's thighs, and drag his nails down strong muscle. He doesn't restrain Felix's motion in any way, but oh does he want him.

"Tease," he huffs out, voice pitched down into a heady purr.

At that flash in Sylvain's eyes and the way he tips his head back, Felix's cool, distant facade cracks just a little as he smirks. Sylvain finally gets the touch he's been looking for and Felix allows it for now; that accusation gets little reaction beyond a slightly arched eyebrow.

Felix lifts his arms above his head in a graceful arc and bends backward, between Sylvain's raised legs and past them, making those thigh muscles flex under Sylvain's hands as he stays in place with his legs alone. He bends all the way back until his fingers and loose hair brush the floor, and then slowly rolls his body back upright, his movements sinuous and controlled.

He lets the momentum carry him forward a bit until his mouth is right beside Sylvain's ear. "Going to do something about it?" he says, not quite whispering as his lips brush the ear's shell just barely.

Edited 2022-03-17 05:52 (UTC)

Continued here (NSFW)

❖ Act & Exposition, VR edt. [Permanent Catch-All]

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cw: slight spiciness

Re: cw: slight spiciness

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