Work Text:
"You can have the bed."
Dimitri stays rooted to the carpet, wiping his damp—and why are they even damp—palms off on his pajama bottoms. He may be disrupting Sylvain's usual nighttime routine, but that doesn't mean he should be selfish too.
"It's fine, Sylvain. I don't mind the floor," he tries, with his best passable smile. "I prefer it, actually?"
That was definitely too much. Sylvain only has to look at him with the barest quirk of his brow, and Dimitri knows he's lost.
"Just take the bed," he says, then pauses before flashing his pretty teeth at Dimitri. "It's clean, if that's what you're worried about."
"I would hope so." He looks away from Sylvain, hoping his friend didn't see the way his lips twitched with amusement.
The last thing he needs is to encourage Sylvain's more questionable behavior.
Hiding in his room from a girl could also be considered questionable behavior. The situation was handled, Sylvain sent her off as he promised.
Except–Dimitri found himself lingering, working out an excuse to stay.
And what a flimsy excuse it was, to spend more time with one of his oldest friends.
A longing to go back to how they used to be. A single moment of weakness.
Dimitri sits on the edge of the bed, doing his best to not take up unnecessary space. To not be even more burdensome to Sylvain. "Perhaps we can share?"
Perhaps, Dimitri can learn decorum. He presses his fingers over his mouth as if that would take his words back. There's no reason for them to share the bed. He hears Sylvain snort softly.
"We haven't shared a bed since you were eight and you had a–" Sylvain's expression furrows. "Bad dream."
The air between them settles into something Dimitri can't describe, but it makes the knot of guilt in his stomach gnaw at him.
"I still have those," he admits, as if Sylvain can't hear him when he wakes up screaming.
"Alright!" Sylvain says with a snap of his fingers, "we'll share."
And that's that.
–
Ever since what Dimitri has privately dubbed the Bed Incident, Sylvain and he have drifted closer. It's not uncommon for Sylvain to join Dimitri and Dedue for training these days. Or for Dimitri to go horseback riding with their resident cavalier.
Or even volunteer to do chores together.
"We're done!" Dimitri turns from his work in time to catch Sylvain plopping down into a pile of fresh hay. Amusement tugs his lips up into a soft smile as he watches the overdramatic antics.
"You really should work on your stamina, Sylvain." He props his pitchfork against the stable wall, and steps toward the figure on the ground to offer his hand. "Perhaps you would benefit from joining me more often during training," he tacks on, intending it as a jest. Although, he would be more than happy for his friend to join him.
They lock gazes, Sylvain tilts his head at him, and Dimitri isn't sure why it sends a shiver crawling down his spine.
"What sort of training?" Sylvain finally asks, a smirk splitting his lips as he takes the offered hand. He curls his fingers around Dimitri's wrist. Maddeningly, he wonders if Sylvain would be able to encircle it, if his gauntlet weren't in the way.
"Whatever you wanted to do," Dimitri answers, not thinking much of it.
Sylvain taps his thumb against the cool steel of Dimitri's gauntlet. "Anything?"
"Yes?" He tilts his head, thrown off by the question. "Wh—"
The smell of hay and dirt assaults his nose, suddenly, and Dimitri gasps. Every attempt at getting up is thwarted by a shove and not so quiet snickering. "Sylvain—"
He stills. Thrown off by tickling breath at his ear. "You really shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Your Highness." Sylvain's voice is honeyed in a way he's never heard before. The sweet, softness of it sends his mind spiraling until all his thoughts are consumed by the steady warmth at his back. It wouldn't be so bad to get lost in it for a while, he thinks, as the tension from his body is swept away, bit by bit.
Sylvain stands and takes the moment with him. Dimitri is left alone on the stable floor, and he feels a little foolish. They were not having a moment. Of course they weren't.
He begins to move, albeit sluggishly, his brain functioning regularly again with the distance between them. "I keep my promises," he sniffs, a little annoyed now at having to pull bits of hay from his hair.
He pushes up on his knees, frowning at Sylvain's bark of laughter. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he says, dismissing the statement with a wave.
His eyes are bright and crinkled at the corner. The smile is subtle, but it's there. Dimitri wonders if this is the sight that makes all the academy girls swoon.
Or if it is only for him
Three days later, Dimitri figures it out when Sylvain comes running up to him in the training yard.
"I've figured out how I want to build my stamina."
"Alright," Dimitri says with a smile, "let's hear it."
–
Perhaps he should have declined Sylvain's whispered request for… this, but he agreed. To share not only a bed, but so much more.
Sylvain told him if he had to concentrate on relaxing, then he was still thinking too much. But how can he not think about the way Sylvain gazes at him like a wolf does its prey? A fresh rush of desire stabs at his belly, and the whine that slips from his mouth would be humiliating if he were with anyone else.
Because Sylvain is eerily good at figuring out what Dimitri needs, even when he isn't sure himself.
The stretch hurts a little, and Dimitri bites his lip as he sinks downward. He didn't prepare himself well enough in his eagerness.
He reaches a shaky hand between his legs to feel where they connect. To feel how much of Sylvain is left. A little keening sort of sound bubbles from his throat because there's so much more left.
Sylvain, true to his word, has stayed quiet, save for the occasional groan, or under his breath curse. But Dimitri can see the sheen of sweat on his brow, and the way his muscles are straining to keep hold of the headboard.
"N-next time," says Dimitri through grit teeth, "can we just use t-training swords?"