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Sylvain doesn't bother checking anywhere else once his tasks for the day are done. He bundles up his horse's tack, hands it over to one of the stable managers, and heads straight to the training grounds. If he were searching for someone else he’d check the infirmary, or the library, or the dining halls.
But he knows Felix, and he knows exactly where he spends all the free time that he can spend upright. Felix once told him that if Sylvain doesn't see him in the training grounds after a battle, he should probably presume he's dead.
Needless to say, Felix is in the training grounds after their battle that day. Sylvain can hear the sounds of his sword clunking against the dummy before he even enters, and he knows what he'll find when he does.
He's right: Felix, swaying on his feet even as he stands there. Every muscle in his body would seem tense to a casual observer, let alone one who knows him well, and it's obvious to Sylvain that Felix shouldn't be there at all.
They had a rough battle today. Sylvain took a hit he probably shouldn't have, and Felix dashed half a length of the battlefield to block the next attack, the one that would have killed. Felix also told him that morning that there was an ache behind his eyes before he even woke up, and Sylvain probably knows what that means better than anyone else.
Felix is having a bad day, and Sylvain would be damned if he doesn't end it sooner rather than later. "Hey, Fe," he says, leaning one elbow on a pillar at the side of the grounds. Felix doesn't look up. "How do you feel about taking a break?"
"I don't need to," Felix replies. The exhaustion in his voice is palpable.
"I think you do," Sylvain says. Felix strikes the dummy again. "Your angle is off from normal. You're stiff, right? Rest will help."
They both know Sylvain is right, but Felix doesn't do anything about it, much less acknowledge it. He strikes the dummy once, twice, over and over with a slightly uneven rhythm until Sylvain can’t take it anymore. "Felix, please? For me."
Felix stops moving, and for a moment Sylvain thinks he actually managed to say the right combination of words to get Felix to take care of himself for once. After a moment, however, Felix turns, tosses his practise sword to Sylvain, and crosses the training grounds to grab another.
"If you're going to take up my time like this," he says, sinking into a fighting stance, "then you better spar with me to make up for it." Sylvain grimaces, but Felix doesn't show any signs of stopping just yet. He'll only push himself further if Sylvain doesn't follow his wishes.
He copies Felix's stance and waits for the attack. Instead, Felix's movements slow to a stop, then stutter. His eyes stray just past Sylvain's, his eyelids drooping, and then he stumbles forwards. He jerks back, attempting to catch himself with an unsteady hand against the wall.
"Fuck, Felix, you shouldn't be training like this," he says, moving forward and offering an arm to steady him. "Can you train like this?" They both already know the answer.
Felix nods fervently. "I can," he says, but he still looks slightly unsteady on his feet. He looks closer to keeling over than killing the imaginary enemy inside the training dummy. "I can."
It's pretty much the answer Sylvain expected, but he can't help but be the tiniest bit frustrated. No one can train like this, and Felix is no exception. So, instead of letting him go, Sylvain slings an arm around Felix's shoulders. "Want me to help you to bed?" he asks.
"No," Felix replies. "It's barely sunset. I don't need sleep."
"And you won't be able to, I get it," Sylvain says. This is something Felix has spoken about before - after a battle, even in a scenario where almost anyone else would be exhausted enough to pass out standing up, Felix struggles to shut his mind off. "But surely being in bed would be better than being out here."
Sylvain watches as Felix's grip on his training sword tightens, but he can't ignore the tremor to his limbs either. Felix is clearly exhausted, yet Sylvain can't think of a way to persuade him to rest. "I can push through it," Felix insists.
"From bone dead exhaustion to undead levels of sleep deprivation?" Sylvain asks. Felix sighs. "Come on Felix, you know yourself better than that. Everyone does. We fought a battle today, I'm sure you can shave an hour or two off training. Practical experience counts for more than swinging at a stationary target, right?"
Now, Felix relaxes his grip. Just ever so slightly, but it's enough. "Fine," he says. "I can do that."
Sylvain smiles. "Thank you. I'll give you a hand."
"You don't need to," Felix replies instantly, but Sylvain doesn't miss the way Felix leans into his side. Felix probably needs help more than he's willing to admit right now, and Sylvain isn't inclined to let him struggle out of pride. He does it enough already.
"I'm going to," he replies. "Can you walk on your own?"
"Of course," Felix shoots back, jerking his arm away from Sylvain. Sylvain chuckles, but keeps a close eye on him anyway; Felix tries not to talk about it, but Sylvain knows that he struggles to walk sometimes. Maybe it's pain, or the stiffness so clear in his muscles, or the tiredness. Maybe it's all of those things.
Either way, Felix makes it back to his room, albeit slowly. Sylvain stands in the door for a few moments, waiting. They've spent a few nights together, but not when Felix was suffering quite this much; Sylvain doesn't know if he's still welcome.
"Are you going to keep loitering?" Felix asks. There's a challenge in his eyes, but it guards something else, and that's when Sylvain realises: whether Felix knows it or not, this is a test.
"No, I'll come in," Sylvain says. He hopes it's the right answer.
It seems to be; Felix's face betrays a flicker of a smile, even as he turns away with a short huff. "If you want to," he says.
When the door is closed, Felix lets a tiny part of the pretence down. He moves to sit down immediately, letting out a soft groan as he hits the bed. "Goddess," he curses softly. "I'm fucking exhausted."
Sylvain stands there for a moment, a little unsure as to what to do. Normally Felix shuts him out on days like today. "Do you want me to... help you undress?" He tries to make it sound as non-sexual as possible, but probably fails. Felix snorts.
"No," he says. "I'm perfectly fine." Sylvain nods, averting his eyes as Felix strips. Felix isn't shy, not exactly, but Sylvain knows he's not the biggest fan of people examining his body. He’s already being vulnerable enough today.
The problem is that, once his clothes are on the floor and Felix pulls a nightshirt on, he still looks uncomfortable. His shoulders hunch around him, making him look even more miserable than before.
Throwing any caution behind him, Sylvain turns around again, stripping out of his outer layers and leaving himself only in his innermost clothing. Maybe it's not the most comfortable for sleeping, but right now he doesn't fancy going to get anything else and nothing of Felix's will fit him.
"Oh," he says once he turns to face Felix, "can I stay tonight?"
"You already undressed," Felix points out, but it's lacking his usual bite; Sylvain can't work out if it's the fatigue or some other kind of softness, but isn’t going to question it. "What else would I want you to do?"
"I didn't ask you if I could undress," Sylvain points out with a laugh. Felix joins in, his face lighting up a little even as the tenseness in his shoulders remains.
"You didn't. But it’s done now, and yes, you can stay."
"Great," Sylvain replies. They pause for a moment when Sylvain gets a little closer. "Do you... want me to help you untense a bit?"
Felix bites his lip, but a moment later he nods. "If you don't mind," he replies. "I'd like that."
"Of course," Sylvain replies, motioning for him to shuffle over. After that, Felix turns, his back to Sylvain as he stretches his hands out to try and soothe some of the tension in Felix's shoulders.
Felix winces the moment Sylvain's hands touch him, and Sylvain pulls back like he's been burned. Felix shakes his head instantly. "It's fine," he says. "It just... surprised me."
They both know that isn't true; Sylvain asked, and Felix agreed. But Sylvain nods and returns to his efforts, attempting to ease some of the knots in Felix's muscles. He's not entirely sure how they've built; he watches Felix stretch before, during, and after training. But they’re there, so all he can do is give it his best shot.
"You're really warm, Fe," Sylvain notes, a frown creasing his forehead. He’s touching Felix through a thick layer, but his body heat warms his fingers like they’re touching directly. "You sure you didn't catch a chill earlier?"
Felix nods, but he doesn't look too sure when he turns to face Sylvain. "It happens sometimes," he says instead, shrugging Sylvain's hands off his shoulders. "They feel better now. You can stop. Thanks." He turns away at the final word, and for a moment Sylvain doesn’t believe him, but he can see it almost as well as Felix can feel it - the sharp lines of his body have relaxed just a little.
There's more Sylvain wants to say. There always is when it comes to this. But he can't; Felix doesn't like talking about it.
Instead of thinking about what Felix randomly burning up could mean, he focuses on the more immediate future. "I know you said you were fine with me staying," he said, "but do you want me to? If my body heat is too much, then I could-"
He gestures towards the door, but Felix shakes his head. Then he pauses, grimaces, and actually answers. "It might make it hard to sleep," he admits. "But it's worth it." As he speaks, he turns around and leans back, lying down on top of the blankets.
Sylvain frowns, doing so only because he knows Felix can't see it right now. He doesn't want Felix to make that kind of trade; Sylvain knows very well that he'll almost certainly get up bright and early tomorrow morning, and it doesn't feel right to ask him to sacrifice sleep for affection.
At the same time, he knows Felix struggles to sleep anyway. If he'd rather have Sylvain here... well, who is Sylvain to complain? He'd rather be at Felix's side too. So he lies down next to him, slinging a loose arm over Felix's waist. "Is this okay?" Sylvain asks.
Felix's pause tells him all he needs to know for now. Whether he'll tell the truth or not is another matter. "It still hurts," he answers. Answers honestly, which puts Sylvain's mind at ease a little. "But I'll be fine. This doesn't make it worse."
"Good." Sylvain leans a little closer. Maybe something about his presence will help Felix relax, even if it won't help him sleep. "Am I going to be able to persuade you to take a day off tomorrow? You're allowed to slow down, you know."
Felix lets out a tiny scoff. It's not derisive, but it's... something else. Something Sylvain is a little too tired to unpack. "Absolutely not," he answers.
Sylvain expected that response from the start, but it still disappoints him just a little. It's less a disappointment in Felix but more in himself; he wishes he could persuade him to take care of himself better. One day, though, he’ll manage it. He knows he will.
He doesn't say anything in response, letting his eyes close as he keeps an arm around Felix's waist. He doesn't know if his presence actually is more of a benefit than a burden, especially on a night like tonight, but he can hope. If he were a religious man, he might even pray. Felix deserves it.
The last thing Sylvain is really aware of is Felix moving under his arms. For a moment he considers drawing back, leaving his grip a little looser, but then he realises that Felix isn't trying to get away.
Felix nestles closer into his chest, turning around to tuck his head under Sylvain's chin. He's clearly still awake, and he probably will be for a while longer, but it's enough to put Sylvain's mind at ease. He smiles and wraps his arms tighter, hoping that maybe he'll bring Felix the comfort he needs to feel just a little better in the morning.