Archive of Our Own

Under normal circumstances, Sylvain would have never been on the receiving end of the words, “If I go on one date with you, will you leave me alone?” It wasn’t just because he was exceedingly handsome and popular with the other students at Garreg Mach High. Sylvain would have backed off long before those lethal words would even creep into the consciousness of the person he was pursuing.

But these are not normal circumstances.

Sylvain wiggles his eyebrows. “Unless you end up falling for me.”

“That would never happen.”

“... Everyone knows that Felix isn’t the dating type. And honestly, good for him. But I’m not sure I want to go out with someone who is, I don’t know, morally opposed to dating,” Sylvain said.

Miklan rolled his eyes. “Listen, brat, it’s not about what he wants. It’s not even about what you want. I want to rail Glenn into next week, and your childish little problems are not going to be what stops me.”

Understanding dawned on Sylvain. “Ah, right, the Fraldarius brothers dating rule. I don’t see how that has anything to do with me. Go ask one of your friends to ask Felix out.”

“Only you would even have a shot at getting a date with Felix fucking Fraldarius.” Miklan smirked. “So how about it?”

“Pass.”

“That’s fair. Dating him might put a damper on your social life. Quite unlike what would happen if someone were to let slip that your last name isn’t Jose.”

Sylvain clenched his jaw. “You wouldn’t.”

“Imagine how much nicer people would be to you if they found out.”

Anger curled hot in Sylvain’s guts. Given the strained relationship that Sylvain had with his father’s last girlfriend, Miklan knew damn well that there was nothing Sylvain hated more than people treating him differently because of their entertainment mogul father. It was low, but nothing was truly beneath Miklan.

“So, Saturday?” Sylvain asks with a winning smile plastered across his face.

“Sure.” Felix shrugs. “Can I go now?”

Sylvain rolls his palm skyward, each twirl getting larger as he leans forward into a deep bow. He hears a sharp exhale of breath above him, then shuffling and footsteps as Felix walks away from him.

For a while, he remains frozen in that inclined position, just in case Felix turns around and catches the drop of his mask. But once he is certain that Felix has put enough distance between them, he straightens up and retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

He types, “It’s done.” 

Sylvain grits his teeth as he hits send. Barely a minute passes before Miklan responds with a thumbs up emoji.

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

Felix wakes up on Saturday morning swimming in a murky pool of anxiety and dread. Sure, he has never been particularly interested in meeting new people or dating. He has Glenn and he sees no reason why he needs anyone else. He is also painfully aware that his abrasiveness hardly inspires platonic or romantic interest. That said, he knows enough about being a teenager to know that your first date is supposed to be special. And it’s daunting that not only does he feel out of his depth, he has no one to talk about it to. 

The alluring smell of freshly brewed coffee drags him out of bed and towards the kitchen. Even though he knows that his father is already awake and Glenn sleeps like a log, he tries to keep the sounds of his movements to the minimum as he walks past their rooms on the way to the stairs. If nothing else, it’s a matter of principle. 

He hears murmurs that turn into chatter as he makes his way down the stairs. At first, he assumes that his father is on the phone with his mother. Their morning and evening phone call routine is a big part of the reason they’ve been able to maintain a strong relationship despite the twelve-hour time difference. But when he arrives right outside of the kitchen, he realises that Glenn is up when he hears two voices instead of one.

“Felix has a date?” Rodrigue says.

Glenn laughs. “Incredible, right? It’s just like Felix to succeed at whatever he puts his mind to.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows how sad and lonely his precious big brother has been.” Glenn lets out a melodramatic sigh. “Kept up in a tower surrounded by fire-breathing dragons by a cruel—”

“Watch it.”

“... but a very well-meaning father.”

Rodrigue hums a satisfied tune. “Well, whatever his intentions were, I can’t say I’m not shocked at this development. I guess I just never thought he would—”

Glenn clears his throat when he sees Felix walk into the kitchen.

“Never thought I would what?” Felix asks with a veneer of nonchalance to mask the storm within. “Go on, I want to hear all about my inadequacies.” 

Glenn was the first to speak. “Felix, that’s not what he—”

“Save it. I heard you laughing. You were in on the joke too.”

“Felix…” Rodrigue says.

Felix glowers at both of them. It only angers him further that they’re looking back at him apologetically, as if they were trying to pacify a child who was throwing a tantrum. Quite frankly, he’s fed up with them treating him like a fragile piece of crystal to his face while they mock him behind his back. It’s an insult to his intelligence.

“Son, please, we are not making fun of you.” Bile fills Felix’s throat as his father enacts step one of his ‘how-to-soothe-your-angry-teenager’ repertoire. “When I said that I was shocked to hear that you have a date, what I meant is that I never needed you to actually date. I just wanted to… encourage you to meet new people. And I knew that you wouldn’t do that unless I put a condition that affected Glenn.”

“Yeah, Felix, don’t get mad. Dad may not be perfect but he means well.”

Felix takes a deep breath. 

“Talk to me, son. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Felix’s jaw clamps shut to prevent the guttural scream that pushes against the back of his throat. 

It never used to be this way. It wasn’t too long ago that Felix got along swimmingly with his father. But everything changed when his mother took the promotion that led to her moving almost a world away from them. Since then, their home has always been too small or too large. 

His chest tightens to steady his voice. What comes is a question that sounds too much like a statement, a period, a diagnosis. “What’s the point?”

He turns and walks back to his room.

If Felix hadn’t checked his phone when he did, he would have completely missed the time when he is supposed to start getting ready. He scrambles to type out the last sentence of his essay assignment. If it’s no good, it’ll be up to tomorrow’s Felix to deal with it. He saves the file and shuts down. 

Having not done anything that would involve large amounts of, er, ventilating, he decides to forego a second shower. He’ll just roll on some deodorant as an added insurance. But that’s not the part of getting ready that he’s worried about. 

He pulls open his wardrobe doors and sighs. He usually doesn’t fuss over how he dresses, but it would be weird if he didn’t this one time. It’s not even that he really cares about making a good impression on Sylvain fucking Jose, it’s just the principle of it. If someone is paying for dinner—and the redhead better be paying for dinner—you return the favour of showing that you put at least some effort into how you look. Or at least, that’s what he gathered from the twenty or so dating advice columns he skimmed through. 

He pulls out a black button down shirt. Good, a safe choice. You can’t really go wrong with black. It might be too much to wear black pants though, even if that’s what he’s inclined to do. After a few minutes of going through his folded pile of pants, he finally finds a light grey pair of plaid slacks hidden in the middle of the pile. It’s the pants that he wears when he’s trying to look polished, but not uncomfortably so. He shrugs and takes his chosen pieces to the laundry room to press.

The doorbell rings barely five minutes after he’s done getting dressed. He takes one last look at himself in the mirror and heads towards the front door.

As soon as Felix opens the door, Sylvain’s eyes sweep down and back up in a way that makes Felix want to crawl out of his skin. But before Felix can slam the door in his face, Sylvain pulls out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and hands them to Felix. Felix frowns.

“Come in while I put these in water,” he says, more like an order than an invitation. 

Sylvain clicks his heels together. “Yes, sir!”

Felix resists the tantalising urge to return a quip, but he knows that the longer Sylvain stays in his home, the more opportunity his father and Glenn would have to pull out his embarrassing baby photos. He grabs the first water jug he finds in the kitchen and fills it with water. He sets it on the counter and grabs a pair of scissors to cut away the plastic wrapping. Once he’s freed the blooms, he drops the stems into the water. 

After he places the water jug (he probably should have gotten a proper vase from the garage, but he’s in a hurry) filled with water and flowers on the dining table, he goes over to the couch where he last saw Sylvain. He isn’t there. He looks around and sees Sylvain peering at one of the photo frames on the entertainment console.

“Who are the blondes?” he asks when he notices Felix standing beside him.

“Uh, that one’s Ingrid and that one’s Dimitri.” 

“Where are they? Abyss High? Leicester Prep?” 

Felix shakes his head. “Dimitri’s in Fhirdiad Prep. His parents are old money so he had to go to school with all of the other noble brats. Ingrid is in Galatea High.”

Sylvian whistles. “Damn, Fhirdiad Prep? And Galatea isn’t as prestigious but she’s no slouch either.”

“Don’t get too excited. Ingrid’s on a full-ride scholarship. The only trust fund baby I know is Dimitri.”

If Felix had blinked, he would have missed the slight twitch in the corners of Sylvain’s lips. Before he can ask what that’s about, Sylvain begins to speak.

“Wait, aren’t those schools all the way up North? The commute home must be terrible for them.”

Felix winces. “Yeah, well, not really. They live up North. So do— so did I.”

Sylvain puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes. There’s a pregnant pause when Sylvain makes no attempt to offer any words of comfort or even a well-timed joke. Instead, he allows the silence to hang heavy in the air, giving Felix his moment to acknowledge his own grief. 

“We’re going to be late for the movie,” Felix says finally. “Let’s go.”

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

When Sylvain enters his bedroom, he tosses his jacket to the side and collapses onto his bed with his face buried in his hands. He has royally fucked up and he knows it. Come Monday, everyone will know about his family background. He’s almost certain that Miklan wouldn’t even wait until lunch. 

The date started off fine . He wouldn’t call it the best date that he’s been on, but he’s not about to berate himself for not having the greatest time on a date that he’s essentially being blackmailed to go on. After the movie, which was also fine , they had dinner at a burger joint a few doors down from the cinema. The food, by the way, was also fine . 

It was still early, so Sylvain asked Felix if he wanted to walk around for a bit before they head home. What Felix didn’t do is say “No, thank you. I’d like to go home now” like a normal person. Oh, no. Instead, he rolled his eyes and said, “Haven’t we done enough?”  

Sylvain bristled. “Don’t feel obligated to do me any favours.”

“Fine, I won’t. Take me home now.”

“You know what? You’ve been rude to me all evening and I’m sick of it. You grumbled when you heard the name of the movie I chose and when I asked you if you wanted to watch a different movie, you went, and I quote, “It’s whatever.” Then at the burger place, I asked you if you wanted some of my fries and you glared at me. I just want you to have a good time but if being around me is so repulsive, then you could have just fucking said so. 

For the first time that evening, Felix looked at Sylvain with an expression that suggests a feeling other than unadulterated contempt. Sylvain didn’t know what it meant. All he knew was that he was just so angry. 

It was Felix who broke the silence. “I’d… I’d like to take a walk around the place with you.”

Sylvain raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not… I’m not just trying to humour you. I really do want to take a walk with you.”

Sylvain gave him a hard look but eventually gave in. He shrugged and led the way to the other parts of the town. After a few strides, Felix caught up to him.

Despite Sylvain’s outburst, they had an enjoyable evening. Felix stopped acting like he had a stick up his ass and they even got ice-cream from Sylvain’s favourite shop. Right as they were making their way to the car, Felix stopped in his tracks and he stared right into the replica sword store that they were standing right in front of.

“Uhm, Sylvain?”

Sylvain turned. “You want to go in?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Of course.”

Sylvain rubs his temples. He can’t believe that he yelled at his date, especially one that he absolutely has to go out with. Even though the rest of the date went well, he’s certain that Felix wouldn’t want to go out with him anymore. And who would blame him? Sylvain wouldn’t want to go on a second date with someone who yelled at him.

His hands shake as he fishes his phone out of his back pocket and types out a text to Miklan. His desperate mind grasps at the possibility that he might be able to talk Miklan out of making good on his threat. Deep down, he knows that his asshole of a brother won’t let him off the hook, but who knows? Maybe he’ll be in a charitable mood.

After typing out his best attempt at an explanation, his thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button. He finally resolves to press it when he gets an incoming call.

“Felix?” 

“Hey. Uhm, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for today.”

The knot in Sylvain’s chest loosens. “Don’t worry about it, Felix. Uhm, did you at least have a decent time?”

‘Yeah, well, as you probably know, I was in a pretty crummy mood at the start.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “You know the whole thing we talked about at my house, about me moving here from up North?”

Sylvain swallows hard. “Yeah.”

“I guess I never really got over it… having to leave my friends for my dad’s job, my mum moving away for her job. I don’t have a lot of people that I can really trust and… Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, don’t be sorry. You can keep going if you want.”

“I guess what I’m saying is that you’re the first person since all of that happened that I really considered being friends with. That scares me. And when I get scared…” A beat. “Anyway, there’s this convention in two weeks that I have a table at. Normally, I’d ask Glenn to go with me so that I can go to the bathroom every now and then, but Glenn’s busy. I was wondering… I mean you don’t have to say yes, but…”

Sylvain’s blood runs cold. It’s one thing when he’s the one initiating contact and Felix is the one fending off his advances, but this is something else entirely. Felix has just opened up to him about his trust issues. This whole scheme could really hurt him. 

He resolves that his reputation isn’t worth Felix’s pain.

“Can I get back to you on that? I can’t remember if I have plans that weekend or not.”

“Yeah, sure, sure.” Even though Sylvain is obviously trying to weasel his way out of committing, Felix doesn’t sound the least bit upset. 

“I’ll let you know,” Sylvain quickly adds. “Have a good rest, Felix.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Sylvain hangs up. He deletes the draft of his message to Miklan and calls him instead. The call rings a few times. Right as it’s about to go into voicemail, Miklan picks up.

“This better be good.”

Sylvain rolls his eyes. “Date went well. He asked me to go somewhere with him.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I’m not going.”

In mere seconds, the tone of Miklan’s voice changes from bored to icy. “And why not?”

“He’s got issues, Miklan. When he finds out what we’re doing to him, it’s going to hurt him. I can’t do that.”

Miklan howls with laughter. “What we’re doing? I believe it was you who asked him out and it was you who went on a date with him to protect your reputation. I’ll put this in a way that your spoiled ass can comprehend: you don’t actually have a say in this. Either you continue to go out with him or you stop going out with him and everyone finds out about father dearest. As for your little toy, I can always tell him what you’ve done. Always. Whether or not you choose to keep playing with him. Do I make myself clear?”

Sylvain clenches his jaw. “Yes.”

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

“How do you get the paint to look so shiny?” The kid blushes. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I know it’s like a trade secret or whatever.”

Felix grins. “It is a trade secret. But I make an exception for people who can keep a secret.”

“I can, I swear!”

“Alright, come closer, I’ll whisper it to you.”

Admittedly, Sylvain had been worried that Felix had asked him to come along to do the talking on his behalf. It would make sense since Glenn, his usual assistant, is excellent at charming people. However, it appears that Felix meant it when he said that Sylvain only has to watch over his wares when Felix is in the bathroom. Sylvain can hardly believe what he’s seeing. For all his cold and prickly exterior, Felix is a completely different person around people who care about the same things as him.

Before he knows it, it’s already the end of the day. Afraid that he’d damage Felix’s remaining wares and display pieces, Sylvain decides to pack the display cases, stands and other decorations while Felix packs up the merchandise. When they’re done, they’re about to head to Sylvain’s car when Felix gets stopped by someone.

“Hey, Felix, you coming to the after-party at Hilda’s place?”

Felix’s eyes avert the man’s gaze. “I wasn’t invited.”

“One moment.” The man turns to a pink-haired girl standing about two metres away and yells, “Hilda, can Felix come to your party?”

“Of course!” The pink-haired girl says. “I thought I invited him. Must have forgotten to.”

“So how about it, Fraldarius?” The man’s eyes sweep over to Sylvain, then back to Felix. “I’m sure she’ll be fine with you bringing the arm candy along.”

Felix snorts. “Ah, right. Claude, this is Sylvain. Sylvain, Claude.”

“Pleasure is mine,” Sylvain quickly adds.

“Likewise.” His attention returns to Felix. “Are you coming?”

Felix bites his lip. 

There isn’t a doubt in Sylvain’s mind that Felix is inclined to say yes. In all honesty, the past eight hours had tired him out and he wants nothing more than for Felix to say no. But Sylvain isn’t going to be the one that spoils Felix’s fun.

“Let’s go, Fe. I want to meet your friends.”

Sylvain has never felt so thoroughly scrutinised as when Felix turns and stares at him. He’s looking for an opening, a slip in the performance.. So Sylvain does what he does best and he puts his arm around Felix, making it difficult for him to observe him dead on. 

Finally, Felix relents. “Okay, we’ll go.”

“Sylvain, right?” Claude says as he hands him a drink. “So what’s your thing?”

Sylvain takes the plastic cup. “My thing?”

“Yeah, you an artist? Cosplayer?”

“Oh, yeah, no. I’m just here to help Felix out. It’s my first time at one of these things.”

Claude flashes a sympathetic smile. “Chaotic, isn’t it?”

“So chaotic.” Sylvain pauses to take a sip of the mystery liquid which he quickly identifies as sparkling water. “I saw a Mario cosplayer get hit in the head with a turtle plush toy.”

Claude snorts. “Yeah, you think you’ve seen everything and then something like that happens. It’s wild.”

Sylvain gives him a polite smile, but his attention is caught by the sight of Felix being surrounded by most of the guests in the apartment. Everyone is fawning over him, quite unlike the reception he gets back at school. 

He doesn’t realise how long he stares at Felix until Claude starts speaking again. “Your boy’s a bit of a celebrity in these circles, you know.”

Sylvain cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“A lot of people have this idea of the starving artist, being tortured relentlessly by their passion for creating. I’m not saying that there’s no truth to that. A lot of people carve their place in the industry without any support. But that isn’t everyone. Many of us are born into wealth, if not into legacies.”

Having been born into both wealth and legacy, none of this is new information to Sylvain. “What does Felix come from?”

“Nothing. His parents are far from poor, but they didn’t support him at first. That didn’t stop him. He came up with a bunch of alternative methods of prop fabrication on his limited budget and posted all of them online.” Claude tilts his head towards the crowd. “My guess is that at least two out of every five people over there started out because of him.”

“Huh.” Sylvain says as he considers what he’s just been told. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Me?” Claude says incredulously. “Oh, no, I’m just here to help Hilda and look pretty. Well, I’m a writer, but writing’s hardly something that you can sell at conventions. One day, though, I plan to—” 

A heavy thump interrupts their conversation and both of them whip around to locate the source of the sound. Sylvain’s eyes frantically scan the crowd for Felix. When he realises that he can’t see Felix, he feels his chest collapse into itself as he considers the possibility of Felix getting hurt.

Then, he hears Felix’s voice.

“Hey, hey, are you alright? Can you hear me? Shit, someone call Holst!”

Hearing that, Claude wastes no time. As he waits for Holst to pick up, he walks over to check on Hilda. He places two fingers to the side of her neck and appears to relax a little. 

“Hey, listen, Hilda just collapsed on the floor. She’s breathing and she has a pulse but she’s completely unresponsive. My guess is that she’s just tired. Nope, no alcohol. Yeah, of course I’ll stay with her until you get here.”

Claude leaves his phone on the coffee table and picks Hilda off the floor. As he approaches the couch, the people sitting on it quickly get up to make room for her. Slowly, he puts her down and lifts her head to tuck a cushion underneath it. 

He straightens up and turns to the crowd. “Well, party’s over.”

It doesn’t take more than that to send them on their way. They grab their things and scramble out of the apartment. Whether it’s to catch the last train or to find another venue to hang out, Sylvain doesn’t care to speculate. All he’s concerned about is finding Felix and taking him home.  

Before they go, Sylvain stops to speak to Claude. “Nice meeting you. And, uh, give Hilda my regards when she wakes up.”

“Sure.”

“You’re not still worried about Hilda, are you?”

Felix recoils when Sylvain breaks the silence that has been plaguing them since they left Hilda’s apartment. “Huh?”

“I don’t know, you seem to be in kind of a pensive mood. Something wrong?” Sylvain tries again.

The single syllable that falls from Felix’s lips sounds more like a squeak than a substantive response. “No.” 

Felix isn’t one to hide his feelings to spare anyone. So when he denies his feelings to someone he seems to be comfortable with, it’s because he’s giving them an out. It’s a soft nudge to ignore his unspoken plea for a connection. It’s just unfortunate for him that Sylvain is the immovable object to his unstoppable force.

“So, I hear you’re quite popular with that crowd. They don’t go to Garreg Mach, do they?”

“Leicester Prep,” Felix says so softly that Sylvain almost misses it. 

“Huh. Would be nice if they went to school here instead, wouldn’t it? You seem pretty comfortable around them.”

“Sylvain.” Felix’s voice is tense, warning. “Let’s not talk about this.”

Sylvain doesn’t know what comes over him, but he refuses to back down. “Is there something else you want to talk about? Or are you going to go silent on me like I’m just your driver.”

“Sylvain, please.” 

“Please, what?”

“I just want to pretend for the rest of the drive home that on Monday, I’m not going back to eating lunch alone and having no one to talk to other than teachers and cafeteria servers, okay?” Felix snaps.

If the silence from before hadn’t been uncomfortable enough, it certainly is now. Sylvain bites his tongue as he pulls over in front of Felix’s house and turns off the engine. 

“I’ll eat lunch with you,” Sylvain offers. “You can talk to me.”

Felix looks out of the window on the passenger side. “Don’t worry about it. I know you have your own friends.”

“Yeah, I do. You’re one of them.”

For a moment, Sylvain thinks that Felix may not have heard him. Then, Felix  turns suddenly and in a series of fluid movements, unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to Sylvain. He closes the distance quickly and presses his lips to what he only belatedly realises is Sylvain’s fingers.

“No…” Sylvain’s heart pounds in his chest. “Not like this.”

Felix backs away slowly and for a moment, Sylvain thinks he might cave and take it back. He got nervous, he doesn’t know why he did that, he’d say. But it wouldn’t be the truth. At this point, Sylvain doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to be honest with Felix. So he lets Felix draw his own conclusions, even if it means that Sylvain might never get another chance with him.

Sylvain reaches for the car boot lever and pulls it. He unlocks the passenger side door.

“Goodnight, Felix.”

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

Felix can’t remember the last time he’s managed to be functional in the morning without coffee. So when he catches the first whiff of the familiar aroma coming from the kitchen, he just about leaps out of his room and down the stairs to get a cup.

After all, he has shit to do. With or without Sylvain in his life.

He pours himself a mug and takes a sip. As he turns to leave the kitchen, he notices that his father has hardly moved from where he is since Felix entered the kitchen.

“Dad?”

Rodrigue’s somber face cracks into a weak smile. “Oh, good morning, son.”

Felix takes a tentative step towards him. “Something wrong?”

Rodrigue sighs. He cranes his neck towards the window that looks out directly into their back porch. There, Glenn is sitting on the patio swing, his knees pressed into his chest and eyes swollen with tears. Felix can hardly remember the last time he’s seen Glenn like this.

“Sometimes, I wonder if it was the right decision to support your mother taking that promotion,” he says bitterly. “I just feel like I’m out of my depth raising you two on my own.”

Felix places a hand on his shoulder. “It was the right decision.” 

“She always knew what to do, what to say. If she were here…”

“If she were here, she’d tell you that you’re doing fine. 

Rodrigue’s eyes shine. “You think so?”

“Yeah. The woman has always been soft on you.”

“Felix!”

The humour in Felix’s tight-lipped expression quickly dulls into grey as levity is reacquainted with the gravity of the situation. He places his mug on the counter and walks towards the door to the back porch.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him.”

He walks up to the patio swing and unceremoniously plants himself right next to Glenn’s crumpled form. He kicks his legs a little, which sets the swing into a gentle repetitive motion. The breeze picks up for a moment and he distantly notes the way the tall grass of their backyard sways with it. He feels like the last time any of them has trimmed the grass was right before his mother moved away. Since then, it’s just been left to grow unchecked.

“How was the party?”

Glenn exhales sharply. “Everyone had fun. Except me, it seems.”

“What happened?”

“Miklan asked me to have sex with him.”

Felix imagines being on a winding path in a forest, never more than half a step behind Glenn. Whenever it seems like Glenn is getting too far ahead, he stops to wait for Felix to catch up. They’re brothers. There’s only a year difference in their ages. Where one goes, the other would always be close by. Eventually, they arrive at a bridge, and Glenn crosses it without Felix.

But before that notion can solidify itself as a memory, Glenn says, “I said no, but he kept pushing me. So I ended things.”

“Good for you.” Felix says gently. 

“It would have been if that was the end of it. After I dumped him, I went to get a drink to numb the… Anyway, I got a little tipsy and Miklan decided it would be a good time to try again.”

Felix balls his fists.

“It was my first time drinking so I was kind of out of it. I tried to push him off but my arms wouldn’t listen.” Glenn pulls his knees closer to his chest. “Somehow, I made enough noise that someone heard me. The next thing I remember, I was on the host’s bed and Holst was stroking my hair.”

Felix could have sworn that Glenn’s ears turn pink.

“H-h-he said he’d stay with me until I got sober. We… We cuddled for about an hour and a half. Then he gets a call. His sister needs him. So he sends me home and rushes to her.” Glenn bites his lip. “I kinda got into it with Dad for coming home drunk.”

Felix shrugs. “Eh, it’s Dad. How much trouble could you be in?”

Glenn laughs with a lightness finally resurfaces. “That’s true.”

There’s a sudden weight on Felix’s shoulder when Glenn presses his cheek into it. He’s on the bridge but he stops and turns back to Felix. And seeing his little brother struggle to keep up, he smiles and comes back to meet him where he is.

“I don’t really have friends anymore, you know? Miklan’s a pretty selfish person and I chose to go along with it. And for what, attention? Just so I could tell people that I finally have a boyfriend like everyone else?”

Felix puts his arm around Glenn’s shoulder.

“Don’t make the same mistake I did, Felix. The right person knows how to wait for you to be ready.”

Felix separates himself from Glenn and stands up.

“Sorry, I need to make a call.”

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

“Stop laughing!” Felix hisses.

“I’m sorry! It’s just so…” Sylvain claps his hand over his mouth to muffle his giggling. 

Felix has to admit that he does see the humour in watching their pottery instructor press the coned clay down into the wheel. There’s no way around it; it looks like a penis. But Felix would like to believe that he has just enough dignity not to openly laugh about it.

Sylvain chokes.

“Goddess, Sylvain, calm down,” he whispers.

“You don’t think it’s a little funny?”

“I do! That’s the problem. If you keep laughing you’re going to make me laugh too!”

Sylvain wheezes.

Felix sticks his elbow squarely into Sylvain’s rib.

There’s comfort to be found in art classes, learning new skills and struggling to emulate them. When Felix and his family first moved, he put aside any spare change he had to attend classes and use the facilities that came with them. There weren’t a lot of places to learn prop fabrication, so he had to patch together techniques from other mediums. He learnt woodworking, clay modeling, resin casting, and many more skills that he could hardly keep track of. 

Now that his hobby basically pays for itself, he can afford to fly out workshops taught by masters. But to him, nothing tops the feeling of lightning striking when he figures out a new way to do things.

“This is actually pretty fun.” Sylvain says with his eyes focused intently on the wheel as his hands glide haphazardly over the clay. “I never thought I’d ever be into pottery.”

Felix turns to Sylvain and smiles. “There’s a first time for everything.”

After the lesson, they go back to Felix’s place to get cleaned up. Sylvain offers to load the washing machine but Felix stops him and says that it’s best to let the clay dry before they try to remove it. As for the clay that’s on Sylvain’s arms and along his hairline, Felix damps a towel and wipes it off. As he brings the towel from his forehead down to the sharp angles of his chin, he inhales sharply.

“Fe?”

“I think…” Felix takes a moment to recompose himself. “I think it would be better if we dry our clothes in front of a fan.”

“I'd rather stay here.” Sylvain's eyes dart up and meet Felix’s gaze, daring him to pull away. “Not a fan of the cold.”

Felix’s breath hitches. “We can stay here and hang our clothes over there.”

“Oh?” A smile dances on Sylvain’s lips. “I’m starting to think this whole pottery thing was just part of a plan to see me naked.”

“Wasn’t a plan.” Felix pauses to kiss the smirk off Sylvain’s face. “But I think you’ll find that I’m quite the improviser.”

The damp towel falls to the side as Felix climbs onto Sylvain’s lap. His fingers are in Sylvain’s hair, tugging roughly as he brings Sylvain’s lips up to his. He feels fingers brushing against his hip as the hemline of his shirt is lifted and he takes his hands off Sylvain to allow the shirt to glide over his arms and head. 

Sylvain has always seemed to wear his heart on his sleeves so when he sees Felix’s bare chest for the first time, his reaction doesn’t disappoint. His jaw slackens and he stares at him, as if a million thoughts of how to ravish him are running through his head. This in turn, stokes a desire deep within Felix and he impatiently tears off Sylvain’s button-down shirt. 

Their bodies move against each other in a feverish urgency. And in the distant recess at the back of his mind, Felix imagines trees bending to shield the sanctity of two lost souls finally finding what they’ve always needed. 

They wake up with their limbs intertwined with each other, a mess that they aren’t looking forward to tidying up. Felix lifts his head slightly to check the time. It’s past noon, but there’s still a couple of hours before his father and brother get home from visiting their next-door neighbour in the hospital. 

“You up?” Sylvain’s voice is hoarse, but not enough to inspire Felix to get him a glass of water. 

Felix nuzzles into Sylvain’s neck.

“I have a thing next month. It’s worse than watching paint dry but I was hoping that you’d come and suffer with me.” 

Felix laughs into Sylvain’s collarbone. “So romantic, Jose.”

Sylvain stiffens beneath him. A beat of silence passes before the tension in his body is released and his arms are wrapped around Felix.

“Gautier, actually.”

Felix knits his brow, but doesn’t say anything as he waits for Sylvain to keep going.

“My last name is Gautier. Jose is my middle name.”

All of the pieces click neatly into place—the expensive car, the excessive spending, how in the last three months of them dating, Sylvain has not once invited him over to his place, not even to study together. Felix may not pay that much attention to the entertainment industry, but he’s pretty sure that there isn’t a soul in the country that doesn’t know how filthy rich the Gautiers are. In all the time that he harboured a quiet disdain for the privileged convention artists whose entire success depended on their parents’ wallets, he didn’t realise that he was messing around with someone even wealthier than them.

‘Tell me about this thing.” Felix says.

Sylvain sighs. “I mean, it’s supposed to be a charity event, but you know how it is. Just a bunch of capitalists paying for overpriced tickets to rub shoulders with other capitalists. That said, there will be a few prop studio owners.”

This sparks Felix’s attention. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I know how you feel about these kinds of things, but you know how this industry works.”

Despite the feeling of his insides twisting, Felix says, “I don’t have anything to wear, though.”

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

Sylvain smiles and shakes his head as he watches Felix charm the pants off creative director after creative director at the charity event. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he captures this moment as another data point for his hypothesis that Felix shines brightest when he’s allowed to talk about the things that he truly cares about. 

It also doesn’t hurt that he’s doing all that with a custom fitted suit that Sylvain picked out and his artistically messy bun with a braid along each side of his head courtesy of Hilda. What can he say? His boyfriend is gorgeous.

When the waiter passes by him with a tray of mocktails, he stops them and takes two glasses. Then, he saunters over to his date.

Felix smiles as he takes the highball glass offered to him and suddenly Sylvain feels the floor beneath him shift. Not enough to throw him off, but enough for him to be cognisant that he’s no longer standing on steady ground. But before he can slip, there are calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist and the next thing he’s aware of is the gravel in Felix’s voice. 

“Sylvain? Are you with me?” Sylvain blinks a few times and Felix bursts into a giggle. “I see you’re back.”

Sylvain rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Don’t worry about it. All I said was that there was a painting over there that I wanted to check out. Come with me?”

Sylvain stares at him and nods with a reverence that ill-fits the simple request. Felix’s slim fingers interlock with his and he squeezes back like he’s saying “stay with me”. Felix turns back to smile at him and his eyes widen as if to say “I never want to be apart from you”. 

Then, he feels hands grabbing the front of his shirt.

Miklan’s voice rings with mirth. “What’s this?

“Let him go,” Felix growls.

If Miklan had heard him, he made no effort to acknowledge him. “Aww, are you having that much fun playing with him that you can’t give him up yet? I thought I told you I dumped his brother.”

Sylvain grits his teeth.

“Sylvain,” Felix says as his eyes dart back and forth between Miklan and Sylvain. “What’s he talking about?”

For a moment, even Miklan’s face goes blank. Then, as if the gears resume to turn in his brain, he begins to howl. 

“Wait, you told him about the family background you’re so secretive about, but not that you were pretending to like him all this time to help your brother out?”

“Miklan.” Sylvain spits out. “Shut the fuck up. I wasn’t helping you.”

“Oh, that’s right! You were doing it to protect your precious reputation! Doesn’t that make you feel special, Felix?”

Suddenly, Matthias’s hand claps down on Miklan’s shoulder. His voice is steady, stern and with no hint of agitation. “Let go of him, son. You’re making a scene.”

Miklan lets go of Sylvain, but not without shoving him so hard that he stumbles and knocks over a few chairs on the way down. He smirks in the self-satisfied way that dares Sylvain to slap his smile right off his face. Likely realising that he’s done more than enough, Miklan leaves the ballroom with a smile plastered across his face.

Sylvain half expects one of the two people who rush over to him to be Felix, but it isn’t. Felix is still frozen where he stands and he’s staring right at Sylvain. He’s practically begging for a proper explanation, but Sylvain doesn’t know if there’s any explanation in the world that would suffice. 

Still, he tries. “Felix…”

But it isn’t enough. Felix’s face falls and he turns, shaking his head softly as he walks away. Sylvain scrambles to his feet and runs after him, but the crowd doesn’t make way for him quickly enough. By the time he manages to see a path through them, Felix is already gone.

⌖⌖⌖⌖⌖

It’s a wonder that Felix doesn’t sleep right through the morning after his phone battery takes a beating from Sylvain’s relentless calls and texts. Even throughout the drive to school, his phone keeps going off while it rests in the cup holder, plugged into their car’s cigarette lighter. He tries his best to ignore the glances that Glenn shoots him from the driver’s seat whenever they stop at a traffic light.

In a way only made possible due to the fact that the universe must hate him, his first lesson of the day is English literature. Not only is it his least favourite class, it happens to be the one class that he shares with Sylvain. 

Thankfully, he makes it to his classroom mere seconds before their teacher, Mr Eisner, arrives.

“Instead of handing in your assignments, I would like to have a discussion on the redemption of Fitzwilliam Darcy in the eyes of the Bennet family. Would anyone like to start?”

For the first time, Felix raises his hand.

Mr Eisner’s eyes light up. “Felix! Good to finally hear your input. Yes, please share your thoughts with us.”

Felix clears his throat. “They shouldn’t have forgiven him.”

The colour drains from his teacher’s cheeks. “What?”

“He did what he could to save the family at the end, sure. No one is saying that he didn’t do a good thing. But the fact is that he wouldn’t have had to if he didn’t discourage Charles Bingley from marrying Jane at the start of the story.”

“But he admitted his mistake and fixed things,” one of his classmates says.

“Back then, women couldn’t inherit anything. If Mr Bennet had died before Darcy had gotten his act together, he would have effectively taken away their only way out of poverty, which is through Jane marrying Charles Bingley. With Jane married and possibly, Lizzie married to Darcy or whoever else, Lydia wouldn’t have been in such a rush to be out in society. The problems with Wickham would have never happened.”

Mr Eisner frowns. “But there was no way for Darcy to have known that his actions would have led to those consequences. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

Felix wills his trembling lip still. Unable to come up with any response, he gets up from his seat and storms out of the room.

Even though there’s still a good few minutes before the end of first period, there are many students hanging out near the parking lot and the benches nearby. They must all be seniors, who have free periods on Monday mornings. 

He’s about to unlock the car doors when he sees the gleam of a replica sword placed across the backseat. Knowing that Glenn could never afford something like that, he looks around to see who could possibly have been the one to leave such an expensive gift in his car. 

“I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but I’m trying.”

Felix whips around. Sylvain’s eyes are downcast and his hand rubs the back of his neck. 

“I should have told you that Miklan was blackmailing me. I was just so afraid of losing you that I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you to find out from him and not me.” He casts a nervous glance at Felix. When Felix doesn’t respond, he continues speaking. “I don’t expect you to want to speak to me again but I do hope you eventually—”

Felix cuts him off by tugging at the front of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

“—forgive me.” Sylvain chokes out when they finally pull apart. “If you don’t like the one I got you, we can go back and get another one. I kept the receipt just in case. Or if you don’t want it at all I could also—”

“Sylvain,” Felix hisses.

Sylvain squeaks. “Yeah?”

“Just shut the fuck up.”

“I— I can do that too.”

His warm breath tickles Sylvain’s lips as he mutters, “Good.”

Like how birds on wet sand hop quickly but never linger, Felix kisses Sylvain repeatedly. But as he’s about to pull away hastily again, Sylvain’s hands wrap around Felix’s waist and thwart his escape. They move close, closer, closest, until there is no other option but to kiss; fervour, hungry and adoring.