Chapter Text
The dumbest thing Felix Hugo Fraldarius has ever done is decide to work for his father while he tries to figure out what he wants to do with the rest of his life.
The second dumbest thing has to be that time he went white water rafting by himself in the Airmid river without a lifejacket, fell into the water, and nearly drowned.
And the third is probably whatever he's about to do right now.
It goes without saying that everyone does stupid shit. Everyone makes mistakes in their lives. It also just so happens that sometimes these mistakes can have life-altering consequences.
Felix doesn't expect this to be one of those cases, though, but he will be wrong about this.
So very, very wrong.
Felix's first mistake is letting his pride get in the way of his rational thinking capabilities.
*
"Why am I doing this again?" Felix asks absolutely nobody.
Sylvain, one of Felix's best friends since spandex shorts were still a thing (bonded at the tender age of five and seven respectfully over Felix's impressive Legos he stole from his brother, and Sylvain's extensive Hot Wheels collection), and also the one responsible for what this is, answers him with a wink and a lopsided grin.
Felix stares back at him, cellphone gripped tightly in his hand as he contemplates every decision he's ever made in his life that has led up to this moment.
It started with agreeing to come to Sylvain's place after work for drinks, as it usually did. But then, somehow, ended with them playing a game of truth or dare like they were back in highschool, after they got tired of Netflix and steadily became more and more intoxicated.
It's just a stupid dare, Felix tells himself for the fifth time. Get your shit together.
With a grimace, Felix looks down at the filthy ad currently open on his phone.
A description of the advertisement in question is as follows:
A buff, shirtless twenty-something year old man slathered in body oil with his dick bulge hanging over the open crotch of his jeans. Along the side of the ad is loopy cursive writing Felix doesn't bother reading and a telephone number in big, bold font with exclamations to 'click here!' and some arrows pointing to it. It's tacky as hell, but somehow it's still not the worst ad on the site they could find.
There's no way that dick is real, Felix thinks. It's probably photoshopped to look bigger than it is because the guy is fucking hung. No face though, which is kind of weird, but not unexpected considering it's an ad for a sex hotline.
Felix briefly wonders if it's his or Sylvain's preferences Sylvain had in mind when browsing the ad listings. But only briefly. He really doesn't need to know more about Sylvain's sex life than he already does, and Felix doesn't have a type of his own if he's being quite honest.
He stares at the number at the bottom corner as if it holds the secrets of the universe.
"Just do it already…" Sylvain drawls, idly swinging their shared bottle of rum by the neck between his thumb and two fingers. "Come on, Felix. What's taking you so long? The longer you wait the worse it is."
Right.
"Don't rush me," Felix says.
"Who's rushing you? It's been like ten minutes!"
Felix thinks these services are all a scam. They're designed to steal your credit card and personal information as you rub one out to some stranger, who doesn't give two fucks about you, feeding you crap like: "You feel so good," or, "You're so big." Or worse still: "You're the best fuck I've had all day —"
"Whatever. I'm concentrating."
"On what?"
— as if every line isn't rehearsed, and behind the bullshit there isn't someone rolling their eyes while playing Sudoku, folding laundry, making lunch, or performing some other mundane everyday task.
"None of your business."
Or at least, that's what he imagines it's like, he's never called one before. Sylvain has because Sylvain is the type of guy who would willingly pay someone to step all over his dick. Meanwhile, the idea of giving a stranger money to stroke his ego makes Felix want to retch.
He can think of a thousand other ways he would spend those funds, not the least of which is buying a year's supply of food and pet supplies and hauling up in his apartment with his cats so he doesn't have to speak to or see anyone ever again.
But that's because he hates his job, and because he kind of hates his life, too.
"This is stupid," Felix mutters out loud. "And anyone lonely and desperate enough to use this service deserves to get scammed."
"You know," Sylvain starts, "you're pretty lonely and despera— ow!"
Felix is neither lonely, nor is he desperate. He's perfectly fine as he is, thank you.
Sylvain rubs his rib cage. "What the hell, man…" he whines. It's total pomp and circumstance. Felix didn't elbow him that hard.
"You're fine," Felix says. "I doubt you even felt that."
"No, but you still hurt my feelings," Sylvain replies in a dejected voice. "This stuff tastes like serious ass, by the way…" Sylvain's face twists as he takes a swig from the bottle, vigorously shaking his head after he swallows. "Ugh...awful. Where'd you get it?"
"Liquor store. Ass doesn't taste like anything. Give that to me." Felix takes his own drink from the bottle before handing it back. The bouquet floods his nose with a smell like gasoline and it burns in a bad way all the way down. It's shit but it was also cheap, and Felix isn't exactly a rich bitch right now.
"Says you," Sylvain says. "Sure it does."
Felix rolls his eyes.
"Then you're doing it wrong." Felix says, as if he's some sort of expert. But luckily for him, Sylvain doesn't call Felix out on his experience with ass eating (see: lack of) so he's spared the embarrassment.
Sylvain gasps, a hand over his heart. "I have never done anything wrong in my life ever. Take that back, Felix Fraldarius."
"Never. No take-backs," Felix says, like he's five years old again. Except he's not, obviously. No five year old calls people for sex.
"I thought we were friends, Felix. I thought we were bros," he wails dramatically. "You promised we would die together. You promised."
"Yeah, when I was eight."
"Irregardless," (which isn't even a word) Sylvain sniffs, "A promise is a promise, and you're a man of your word." He claps his hands together and gracelessly fumbles the liquor bottle, spilling some onto his bedsheets. "Anyways! I think that's enough stalling, don't you? Make the call. You understand how these things work, right?"
Felix scoffs, "Yes." No. "Obviously." Not at all.
"Right, of course you do," Sylvain says with a knowing smirk that Felix hates. "Here, I'll pay since it's my idea." He fishes his wallet out from under a pile of papers on his desk and hands Felix his credit card.
"Fine." He swipes it from Sylvain with a huff.
Felix's expression sours as he dials the number. Sylvain sits on the bed beside him and leans over, pushing the speaker button.
"What?" He says when Felix gives him a look. "I wanna hear it, too."
The tinny sound of ringing echoes between them as Felix holds the phone below his chin. Sylvain scoots closer so he's pressed to Felix's side, crisscrossing his legs beneath him. The phone rings and rings, and rings some more.
Felix almost hangs up, but then the tone cuts off and the line connects. He sucks in a breath, unsure of what to expect.
Jazzy, sensual music starts to play as a voice wafts into their ears.
"Hey there, hot stuff," a sultry female voice coos. "Looking to have some fun? Ready to be pampered like royalty? Come meet Fodlan's very own Prince Charming. He's just dying to make all your fantasies come true. Say hello by pressing star now! Or, if you would rather take your chances and have some fun, sexy playtime with The Beast, hit that pound key instead. I promise you won't be disappointed."
Gross.
Sylvain taps one of the keys on the keypad. The automated voice system changes.
"Rrrow…time to play. Hold tight, sweetheart. We'll connect you in just a moment."
After a couple more rings the line switches to another automated message, prompting Felix for payment.
Once he plugs in Sylvain's card number, he's transferred again, but this time when the line connects, he's met with dead air.
Felix waits. His heart begins to race in anticipation, despite the alcohol buzzing through his system.
He hears someone breathing heavily into the receiver.
Hm, that's great.
He's called some kind of pervert.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" He tries anyway, because why the hell not.
The breathing stops.
Something deep and sinister greets Felix with a chuckle that makes the hair on his neck stand on end.
"Back again, you filthy whore?" It growls.
Instantly sober, Felix blinks and his mouth drops open. His grip on his phone goes slack, his palms starting to sweat. Sylvain raises an eyebrow.
What?
Who?
Him?
...did he just call me a whore?
"Did you just—"
"I should have known you couldn't stay away," the voice continues."You had to come back for another taste of my cock, didn't you?"
In spite of his bewildered horror, Felix's dick twitches with interest. His phone slips from his hand and tumbles to the floor with a clatter.
Sylvain's shoulders shake with laughter as Felix stares at it.
"—such a dirty, needy little slut," comes through the speaker. "You really want me to fuck you that badly? You want me to spear you on my cock until you're a sniveling, groveling, disgusting mess don't you?"
"What the hell?"
"Quiet," the voice snarls. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak." It pauses, and takes in a shuddering breath. "You listen to me, and you listen well. This is my domain, and these are my rules. I will not repeat myself if you—"
Felix frantically scrambles off the bed. He scoops up his phone and mashes his finger over the screen, ending the call.
They stare at each other in silence.
"Holy shit," Sylvain gasps after a hot minute, laughing deep from his belly and falling back against the bed. His face steadily changes from red to purple, he's laughing so hard. "Holy shit!" He says again, as if that makes him any more coherent than it did the first time.
"What the hell," Felix says, absolutely stunned, "was that?" Talk about zero to a fucking hundred.
Felix needs a moment to process what the fuck just happened. Not only because the words 'spear you with my cock' are now burned into his mind forever, but also because his dick seemed to like them a lot, and he's probably going to have an awkward half chub - if not a full blown erection - if he thinks about them too long.
Which is a problem. A big problem.
"I don't know," Sylvain wheezes, choking on his own spit. "I don't know! Amazing, maybe? Your face. I've never seen that look on your face before! Saints… wow. Just wow." Sylvain shakes his head and he's still laughing.
Eventually he settles enough to speak normally again.
"But dude... My man, I am so sorry," he says, like he actually means it, "you're going to have to call him back. This doesn't count as completing the dare unless you have a full session, you know?"
No, Felix doesn't know and now he doesn't want to know.
"Are you shitting me? Did you not just hear whatever that thing was?" He gestures wildly to his phone. "You want me to talk to that? "
"Yes I did," Sylvain says. He coughs a few times as he catches his breath. "And yes I do. A dare is a dare and you're not done yet. You need to call him back. But uh… I don't think you should press pound this time."
"I didn't press anything, you did."
Felix doesn't want to. Like, he cannot possibly stress enough how much he really really doesn't want to. At all. Unfortunately, Sylvain is right. A dare is a dare and Felix isn't a coward.
"Semantics. A button was pressed. It matters not who did it."
Felix scowls, but he goes to his call history and dials the number again. His hands aren't shaking. They're not.
This time when prompted, Felix presses star instead.
After his payment processes, the phone rings for a while and Felix crosses his fingers, hoping he doesn't get whatever the fuck greeted him last time. It didn't even sound human.
"Hello, love," a deep and buttery voice purrs when the line connects.
Felix almost drops his phone again— but this time for an entirely different reason.
"It's awfully late. I've been waiting for someone like you to call me all night."
This voice gives Felix the good kind of chill. Like it's a hot summer day and someone is trailing an ice cube down his spine. He sits up at full attention.
Oh.
Oh no.
How is this so much worse?!
"Hello?"
This guy's voice doesn't sound like the one they heard before, but he called the same number didn't he?
He breaks from his haze to double check the screen.
He did. Huh. Maybe they're different people.
"...Hello?"
What is he supposed to say? He still has no idea. Do these things usually start off as a normal phone call?
"Hello…?" He hears again, more hesitant. "Are you there, love?"
Sylvain nudges him. It occurs to Felix then that he's been zoning out without saying anything this entire time.
Well, only one way to find out.
Be cool, Felix. Act natural.
"Hi."
Nope.
Too natural.
Sylvain slaps a hand over his mouth as he lets out a snort. Felix flips him off and cradles the phone closer to himself.
"Ah, there you are," the man says. "I thought you left before we'd even started."
"Oh. Um, no," Felix mumbles. "I'm here. I just...yeah. I don't know how this works. My friend gave me this number to call."
"He sounds hot," Sylvain whispers like it's some kind of secret, which it's not. He takes another swig from the bottle and offers it to Felix, who shakes his head and pushes it away.
"Please thank your friend for me, would you? You have a lovely voice," he says.
Felix does?
"What's your name, beautiful?"
Uh…
Felix gives Sylvain an imploring look. Sylvain shrugs, real helpful-like.
"It's… it's um…"
"It's okay if you're nervous. You don't have to use your real name."
His eyes dart around as he attempts to seek inspiration from the contents of Sylvain's room. It's so orderly that nothing stands out at first.
"I know that!" he snaps. "It's - it's..." his spots a name on the cover of one of the novels sitting on Sylvain's bookshelf. "Noah," Felix decides. "What about you?"
He can practically hear the smile in the man's voice when he answers, "I'm whoever you want me to be tonight." Hm. Definitely a rehearsed line he's used on more than one occasion.
"That… doesn't help me," Felix grumbles. Mystery phone sex operator laughs at that.
"Alex then. You can call me Alex. Does that work better for you?"
"Is that your real name?"
"Mm, for you it can be." Right, of course. These things are all about his fantasy, he knows at least that much.
"And you're supposed to be, what? 'The Prince?'"
"'Prince Charming,' but some people call me that as well. I can assure you the moniker is less about royalty, and more about... mannerisms."
"Okay... So what's 'The Beast,' then?" Besides fucking horrifying.
"Nothing for you to worry about… " he trails off, and then, as if tasting how the name feels on his tongue says, " ...Noah. You're with me right now. I'd like to keep it that way."
Felix shivers pleasantly at that. Sylvain is watching him like a hawk, eyes entirely too sharp for someone who's half in the bag. Felix quickly looks away.
"Whatever," he says, "I wasn't that curious anyway." He was but he's not even going to consider what that says about him as a person. "How does this work exactly? Do people just… call you and say, 'I want to have sex? Here's a list of things I want us to do?'"
Alex’s voice has lost its low rumble and sounds more boyishly pleasant when he responds, "Sometimes? Usually I try to ease them into things first… talk about their day, ask them what they're doing, what sort of things they like."
"...what they're wearing?"
"I could do that, too," he murmurs. "What are you wearing?"
Felix looks down at himself. He's wearing jeans. "I'm wearing jeans," he says.
"Mhm? And what else?"
"A black turtleneck."
"Tell him it's really tight," Sylvain whispers. Felix waves him away.
"My shirt. It's… it's… too small on me," he says, trying not to choke on his own tongue.
Sylvain gives him a thumbs up. "You're doing great."
"Oh? Is that so…"
Felix mutes the phone and turns to Sylvain with wide eyes. "I can't do this."
"Yes you can. You're fine," Sylvain says, clasping his shoulder. "You got this."
Felix doesn't 'got this' but appreciates Sylvain's vote of confidence anyway. He unmutes the call.
"Yeah. And the sleeves are short. You can see my arms."
It occurs to Felix that he's really bad at this.
Like.
Really bad.
"Do you need to know what I look like too?"
"Oh, you've never done this before at all have you?" Alex's voice takes on a pensive tone. Felix hears what sounds like fingers tapping on a desk.
"Yeah, that's what I said."
"I thought you were pretending. Some of my clients like to do that."
"Uh no, why would I? That's stupid."
"I have met many strange people, you might be surprised," he says. "Would you like me to walk you through your first time then? We can take it slow."
First time? Felix scoffs. He's not a virgin. He's had sex. He's had tons of sex!
With like… almost three people, in fact.
Ferdinand from first year Economics totally counts, even if it was just a handjob. He doesn't need someone to hold his hand.
"Excuse you, I've had sex before," he blurts out. "Plenty of times. Just not...over the phone."
And there's one other problem: he's not about to attempt to have phone sex with Sylvain right fucking beside him.
"Oh, of course! I didn't mean to assume," Alex is quick to apologize. Felix is starting to understand what he means by mannerisms. He gives off a lot of polite, good boy vibes. "It's just that this is - well - it is quite a different experience, and I would be more than happy to help you with it should you need it. What are you doing right now?"
"I'm drinking," Felix says, feeling lame as soon as he does. "I was watching TV earlier."
"By yourself? I can fix that for you...offer you some company."
"No. I have a friend with me."
"You're calling me when your friend is in the room?" Alex sounds surprised, but amused. "That's quite salacious of you. Are you always this naughty?"
What?
"What? No! I don't— You be quiet," he hisses at Sylvain who starts laughing at him. "I don't— I wouldn't—" he heaves an aggravated sigh. "I'm not like that. I didn't call...for sex."
"You didn't? But this is - you're aware this is the service I'm providing, are you not?"
"No, I know that!" A full session doesn't have to be about sex, right? Right?? "Is there any possible way we can keep things above the belt? My friend is right beside me."
Alex's voice dips low again, "How close of friends are you? Are you sure they don't want to join us?"
Not close enough for that!
"Oh hell yeah. Yes please," Sylvain pipes up, enthusiastically. Felix rounds on him.
"Shut up." To the phone he says, "No, ignore him, he really doesn't."
"I really do!"
He mutes the call. "I said shut up, Sylvain."
"Aw come on, Felix. You know I'm just kidding."
"Are you, though?"
"Yeah! I mean, mostly…"
"Tch. Insatiable. Call him on your own time."
Sylvain gives him a wolfish grin. "Maybe I will."
Felix scoffs. "Go for it then. What you do in your spare time is none of my business." He unmutes his phone. "Anyways, ignore Syl— my friend— he's had a lot to drink. Like I was saying… do you do anything above the belt?"
"Non-sexual acts, you mean? Is that what you're referring to?"
"Yeah. Do you ever sit and talk to your clients for an entire call?"
"I...have," he hesitates. "But I try to discourage it because my services come with a fee, and there are helplines you can call that don't charge you to speak to someone." There's a rustle of paper. "I have a few numbers on hand if you need one."
"No, no that's fine. Something else then?"
"Mm… how about a massage?"
A massage, huh. That could work.
"Sure." Felix rubs his forehead with a sigh. "Let's do that."
*
What follows, once they get started, is the most awkward fifteen minutes of Felix's life. Alex invites Sylvain to assist him with the massage. They decide that Felix will keep his shirt on and there will be no overtly suggestive touching allowed.
Felix is stiff as a board when Sylvain places his hands on his shoulders as per Alex's instruction. Sylvain gives them a squeeze as Alex's voice drifts up from beside Felix's hip,
"Hmmm… you carry a lot of tension in your shoulders don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Felix agrees. Courtesy of being hunched over at his desk at work for eight hours a day.
"I can tell… here, let me work some of it out for you. We can start with your neck."
Sylvain snickers as he rubs the sides and back of Felix's neck, digging a thumb into a tight knot he encounters with a lot more force than necessary. Felix hisses through his teeth.
"Ow, watch it!"
"Ah, my apologies," Alex says, like he's the one who actually did it. Like he's the one sitting behind Felix, working the kinks from his muscles. Except, for all intents and purposes he is because Felix has to remind himself that that's the whole point of role-play like this. "Am I pressing too hard?"
"Yes," he growls, glaring at Sylvain. Sylvain gives him an air kiss in reply.
"I'll be more careful. Sometimes I don't know my own strength." He sighs, a slow, sensual sound that makes Felix's stomach flutter. "Your shoulders and your arms… " Sylvain moves his hands down to his biceps, "...they feel so good under my hands. Strong... firm...do you like to work out, Noah?"
"Yeah," Felix says. "Every morning, but how did you—"
"I can just tell. I wonder...is the rest of you as toned as these arms of yours?" There's a playful lilt to his voice as he whispers, "Is that why you wanted to show them off to me?"
Felix's eyes shut as he leans into the touch. It actually does feel really good, and he finds himself letting out a low groan of pleasure.
"Oh yeah," Sylvain says suddenly, and Felix startles because Saints, for a fucking second he actually forgot he was there. "He's a total smoke-show. You'd shit yourself if you saw him in person."
Alex laughs, "That sounds unpleasant. I would hope you don't mean literally."
"Naw. I just mean he's a babe," he continues, using two hands to work Felix's arm. There's a chiropractor around the corner from Felix's work, and he's seriously starting to think about becoming a patient there if an amateur massage feels this good. "And he's single."
Felix throws Sylvain a flat look from over his shoulder. "What are you doing? Are you trying to pimp me out to a sex worker right now?"
"Just stating the facts," Sylvain says, moving over to his other arm. "And trying to keep the conversation light, that's all."
"Need I remind you this phone call is on your dime?" Felix mutters, rolling his unoccupied shoulder. "The longer you talk the more money you're going to get charged."
"Eh, I don't care about that," Sylvain says. "My dad's paying for it. I just don't want things to get awkward, that's all. 'Cause you're not much of a talker."
"And whose fault is that?"
"You two must be close. I'm guessing you've been friends for a long time." Blessedly, he doesn't comment on Sylvain's tactless attempt to sell him on Felix.
"Too long," Felix says.
"That's not always a bad thing."
Felix silently agrees. There are definitely worse things.
"Let's see… your back could use some attention now couldn't it?" Sylvain's hands slide from Felix's arm to settle between his shoulder blades.
Something tells him Sylvain is enjoying this a little bit too much when he really digs into his back, unfurling another knot that has Felix bracing his hands on his knees with clenched teeth. "Oh, you're so tight here," Alex croons, voice dripping with barely concealed delight, "but that's all right, I'll loosen you right up, Noah. Relax for me, if you please?"
Felix chokes. Does he have to say it like that? Saints, he's so confused. On one hand, Sylvain is ever present, touching his back, quietly laughing in his ear but on the other hand Felix's dick doesn't care.
This is the worst. Sylvain can eat a huge dick next time he tries to goad Felix into a dare, he's not doing this again.
But the fact of the matter is, the massage is making him feel boneless all on its own, so he has no choice but to relax. Lulled by the soft tone of Alex's voice and the firm pressure at his back, Felix allows himself a few minutes to simply enjoy what's happening.
His lower back is next, and by this time he's so chilled out from the massage and the alcohol that he's starting to fall asleep.
That is until Sylvain's hands slip down to his ass and he squeezes, ruining everything.
Felix jerks away from him with a start, whipping his head around to pin him with a vicious glare.
"Oi!" He barks. "Don't grab my ass, you asshole!" He slaps at Sylvain's wandering hands when they get too close again, and Sylvain throws his head back and laughs, tossing his hands up in surrender.
"Hey, calm down, calm down," he tries to pacify. "I'm just doing what the boss said."
"He said nothing about grabbing my ass, you fuck. Hands off."
"...would you mind terribly if I did?"
"Yes I would mind terribly," he sneers. "Neither of you is getting anywhere near my ass. This massage is over. I'm done."
Sylvain cackles, but makes no move to stop him when Felix punctuates his point by launching himself off the bed and storming out of the room in embarrassment.
*
He presses his back against the wall outside Sylvain's door, only half listening to the conversation as Sylvain continues to chat up The Prince in his absence, in between peals of laughter at Felix's expense.
Hilarious. Good to know one of them finds it funny.
Felix wills his dick to stand down as he buries his face in his hands. He'll piss and wash his face to cool off, he decides.
At least he completed the dare.
But the question now is, at what cost?
*
When he returns sometime later, Sylvain is sprawled out on the bed with a book and his reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks up when Felix enters the room, and Felix scowls when he sees the front cover of the book he's holding.
"Did you have a nice little wank while you were gone?" Sylvain asks, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear.
"Fuck you," Felix says. "I hope you know how much I hate you right now."
"Aww, is that all I get? No 'Thanks so much Sylvain for taking care of what would otherwise be an extremely awkward goodbye? You're the best friend ever?'"
"I didn't need your help."
Not to mention he wouldn't have had to do any of this if Sylvain hadn't dared him in the first place!
"Debatable. You got up and left the guy. No offense, but your manners are abysmal."
"My manners are just fine!" Felix snaps. "And besides, you—" he stops when Sylvain's words register. "Did you just…"
No offense...
Noah…
…
Saints, make that two huge dicks.
Felix picks up a pillow and chucks it at Sylvain's head.
*
Felix spends the entire night on the floor wide awake, while Sylvain snores on the bed above him, blissfully ignorant to his plight.
Alex's voice, interspersed with thoughts of The Beast, keeps playing over and over in his head.
Are you always this naughty?
You want me to spear you on my cock until you're a sniveling, groveling, disgusting mess don't you?
Don't you?
Relax for me…I'll loosen you right up.
I'll keep you company...Felix.
Felix places his pillow over his face and screams.
*
The next day Felix saves the number to his contact list.
He doesn't tell Sylvain.
The less he knows, the better.
And besides, it's not like Felix is going to ever use it again.
He's not that lonely or desperate.
...Right?