Chapter Text
“Hubert!”
Hubert turns, his long coat rippling as he does. Professor Byleth is perusing him across the camp. Her clothes are dirty and there’s blood on her face. Hubert’s own state is no better, the right sleeve of his coat drenched in his own blood.
“You disobeyed a direct order,” Byleth snaps, as she gets within speaking range. Her voice holds all the anger of a shout, but she’s holding back, perhaps deciding she shouldn’t actually yell at the Minister of the Imperial Household in front of the troops. Hubert raises an eyebrow, he’s well aware that he disobeyed an order. But he’s unwilling to speak on it. Internally he is already swirling with enough conflict that he feels sick without adding the Professor's scolding.
“I thought we got past this,” she hisses, “After everything I have done to gain your trust and everything I have done to accommodate your need to be close to the Empress, and you still disobey me!"
Hubert’s jaw tenses into a stiff line as Byleth finishes striding towards him, stopping far closer than she normally would. He breathes through his nose to lessen the effect of the angry alpha pheromones she is surely producing. Hubert means to say something reasonable but then he remembers the chaos of the battle, the mages lining up their shots and-
“I wouldn’t have to disobey if you weren’t an incompetent commander,” he snaps, instincts flaring and temper out of control despite his attempt to keep a handle on it.
Hubert sees Byleth’s pupils contract and her upper lip twitch, almost pulling back into a snarl. What is happening? Hubert does not stoop to alpha posturing and snarling, it is beneath him, and Byleth rarely shows such intense anger or posturing herself. A small rational voice in Hubert’s brain wants to pull back, to ask that they both cool down, but Byleth speaks and he’s sucked deeper into the righteous anger.
“Felix and his battalion were about to engage the mages in combat, they had it handled,” Byleth’s voice getting louder with each word, “But you recklessly charged across the battlefield, and-“ she steps even closer, they are almost touching and Hubert cannot take it.
“I recognised the group, they are the most skilled Reason users in the Kingdom,” Hubert interrupts, “They were about to decimate the battalion they were firing on!”
“They could have taken the hit,” Byleth snarls, “Felix would have decimated them before they made another. Instead, you disobeyed orders, took the hit meant for the Holy Knights, and left the Emperor's right flank unguarded! She was almost swarmed by the calvary!”
“I stopped them, they didn’t touch her Majesty!” Hubert snarls, leaning in, his chest bumping against Byleth’s.
The Professor’s lips pull back “Barely,” she responds, the word almost smothered by her growl. “You were too far for that attack, it’s a miracle you didn’t miss.”
Hubert’s lips immediately pull back in response, “Yes, any of your other useless troops would have missed.” He snarls, his growl joining hers. The sensation is unfamiliar, he never growls “Myself and my battalion would have always hit!”
“Arrogant fool,” Byleth hisses, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Edelgard almost died today because, of, you.”
Huber has always viewed the alpha who got into dominance fights with disdain, it’s not hard to master your instincts and control yourself. He owes everyone he’s thought that about an apology.
Hubert feels a wave of pure rage and aggression shoot through his brain, wiping out not just all rational thought, but all thought. Hubert's brain seems not to consider whether to punch Byleth, he simply feels his knuckles hit her cheek. Vaguely, like the sounds are coming from far away, he hears shouts of alarm.
Hubert’s head snaps to the side as Byleth punches him and everything but the desperate need to win disappears. He leaps at her, their bodies collide and they go to the ground, tussling and growling and landing punches, bites, scratches, and knees to the stomach. Later Hubert will reflect that he did remarkably well against Byleth, who is stronger and more practised in skills like brawling. In the present moment he feels other hands grab him, and he thrashes, trying to get out of their hold so he can still fight, still win, still-
Hubert feels a hand on the back of his neck his most vulnerable spot, and snarls, bucking so hard for a second he thinks he’s free.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” a woman’s voice stutters, but she squeezes, and magic pulses through Hubert, before he can process this everything goes dark.
Hubert wakes up with a groan, immediately aware of how incredibly thirsty and hungry he is. He pushes himself up with his elbows, looking around in a disoriented manner.
“Hubert.”
Hubert looks towards the sound and sees his Lady working at her desk. He blinks and realises that he’s in her tent on a small cot.
“You’ve been out at least an hour, I suggest you eat and drink before we discuss your behaviour,” she says without looking up from the document she’s writing.
Hubert sits up, “My behaviour?” He questions, unsure how he ended up here. He swings his legs onto the floor and grabs the pitcher of water on the low table. Considering how awful he feels, the pounding in his head only getting stronger now he’s sitting, he forgoes a glass and drinks directly from the pitcher. Hubert takes a break to gasp for air, and he’s glad he did, as what his Lady says would have made him choke otherwise.
“Yes, about what exactly caused your dominance fight with Byleth, and your direct disobedience of her orders.”
Hubert lowers the jug and looks at Edelgard blankly for several seconds and then-
Hubert jolts as he remembers, even the memory causing intense phantom emotions and instincts to swell in his chest.
“Fuck,” he hisses, lifting a hand to his face he is glad that it feels mostly intact despite the brutal and dirty fight the two had, he must have been healed magically, no wonder he feels so shit.
Edelgard taps her quill on the side of her ink pot and then places it down on its stand. She leans back in her chair, folding her hands.
“Now, I would love to be enlightened on how two of the most important people in the Imperial Army ended up rolling around on the ground like feral dogs,” she says, her expression showing just how disappointed she is in both of them.
Hubert swallows, unsure how to respond, “Byleth was, aggressively questioning my judgement, and I, lost control and hit her,” he answers honestly. “I can see that my response was not appropriate your Majesty, I apologise deeply for my conduct.”
Edelgard’s eyes bore into him for several long seconds, “You’ve had disagreements about your propensity to ignore orders in the past, it’s never led to blows before,” she points out. Hubert opens his mouth to answer but she continues. “Although I’ve never seen you disobey orders to move further away from me, to defend someone else.”
Hubert feels a horrible lump in his throat and his stomach rolls. He takes a drink to avoid speaking but eventually, he must. “You are correct that I have never done that before, your Majesty,” he agrees quietly. Edelgard doesn’t speak, simply continuing to look at him, waiting for him to say more.
“The professor accused me of, putting your life in peril, that, your death would be on my hands, that was what caused me to throw the first punch,” he admits stiffly, hoping that this is enough for her to stop pushing anything else.
Edelgard tilts her head to the side, “And what do you think?” She asks, “Did you put my life in danger?”
Hubert feels like he’s being backed into a corner, “No,” he denies at once, “My decision was impulsive and possibly incorrect, but I got back in time to defend you.” But he can’t help the defensive tone his voice takes. Edelgard continues to stare… Hubert drinks more and tries not to think. Edelgard shifts in her chair, the creak it makes sounds so loud to Hubert.
“That’s not what I asked,” she states, “You indeed stopped the situation from becoming a disaster, but do you think your choice to disobey orders put me in danger?”
Hubert feels like there is poison in his mouth, he can’t speak at first, and he looks away from Edelgard. When he finally manages to answers he does so very quietly. “Yes.”
Outside the tent, Hubert can hear the sounds of the military camp as the two of them sit in silence.
“I would have not believed someone, even yesterday, if they told me that you would leave my side to protect Ferdinand von Aegir,” Edelgard muses.
Hubert’s gaze immediately returns to the Emperor, “I didn’t!” He blurts out. “I, I was worried what the mages would do to the entire army given the chance.”
Even to his own ears he can hear how weak the lie is. Hubert feels this desperate panic start to fill him. It feels like he’s drowning, and he throws himself onto the floor, bending over to press his forehead against the cold canvas of the tent ground.
“Your Majesty, my life belongs to you, I live and die for you,” he vows, as he has before but this time the vow tastes like ash, like he’s lying like-
“Hubert, friend, don’t bow your head to me,” Edelgard says softly.
Hubert doesn’t look up, he’s trembling.
“I have always been more grateful than I can say for your presence by my side but,” she pauses, he can tell how carefully she picks her words, almost like she feels he’s too fragile for her to pick less than perfect ones. “I always hoped that one day there would be more for you than just service to me.”
Hubert presses his head to the ground harder, why is he shaking?
“I hoped that when we were at the monastery you might gain that, at least a little, but you kept all the eagles at arm's length. But over the last 5 years you have opened up and made friends, I am glad, not angry.”
“M-my lady is too kind, but I, I don’t wish to be distracted from my duty, I, I shouldn’t allow such childish things to influence-“ Hubert tries to say but is interrupted.
“Don’t say that Hubert,” Edelgard says, “You should have friends, just as I do, even amid war.”
Edelgard pauses, waiting for him to speak.
“Please Hubert, lift your head. I am not angry, certainly not about what happened during the battle. I know you, you believed Ferdinand was in mortal danger and you saved him. I am glad, he is my dear friend too.”
Hubert hates the twinge of anger he feels at being placed as a ‘friend’ in relation to Ferdinand. Hubert crushes the anger and keeps his head pressed to the floor, trying to focus only on humbling himself before Edelgard. After a few seconds, his Lady sighs.
“Hubert, you need to eat and rest,” she instructs quietly. “Know that I am not angry, but Byleth has gone to great length in her planning to ensure you are near enough to me that you don’t disobey her orders to protect me. You disobeying in a new way therefore angered her greatly. Once you have calmed down and rested I’d like you two to speak to each other.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” Hubert says stiffly.
Edelgard’s sighs again, “Dismissed.”
It’s only then that Hubert raises his head, pushes himself to his feet and bows, “Thank you, your Majesty.”
Hubert exits the tent, and makes his way to his own nearby. In those 30 seconds he can feel people staring, no doubt eager to gossip about Hubert getting into a dominance fight. He hates it. Losing control was unacceptable, and the fact it was so public makes it so much worse.
Hubert orders someone to bring him food and then sits at his small desk with his head in his hands. He feels a sort of helpless panic as his thoughts about the incident swirl and tries to breath through it and think of anything else, but he can’t.
Swords clash, flesh is split, people scream and yell. Hubert shoots one final shot of mire, and sees the last of archers fall. At once he turns, checking up on Edelgard, just about able to see her and her battalion who are currently decimating a group of foot soldiers.
‘Hubert, to the southwest, intercept the cavalry,’ Byleth’s order comes to him through magic.
Hubert is going to obey, but he assesses the situation around himself first, simply to ensure that their retreat won’t be interrupted by anyone. On a nearby hill his eyes catch on a standard that displays three lanterns. Hubert tenses. The order of the Three Lights, the best Kingdom Reason mages. Byleth must be sending someone else to deal with them. So he forces his eyes to move on, he sees the back of Ferdinand’s battalion of Holy knights.
His eyes flick back to the enemy mages, at once making the connection that Ferdinand’s battalion is probably their target. The Holy knights look to be in good shape, they should survive a hit with minimal losses. Even so, he can’t help but pick out Ferdinand, his red hair and horse so distinctive to Hubert’s eyes…
Hubert spots him, he’s slumped over in his saddle, one hand supporting himself on the pommel. The battalion will survive the hit, but Ferdinand will not.
“Forward!” Hubert yells before that thought has even finished.
Hubert sets off in a sprint and his battalion follow, each agent within it unwavering in their loyalty. This will force the Three Lights to fire on them, in a desperate hope that they kill Hubert and his battalion in one or two hits, before Hubert and his mages brutally rip them apart.
In his head, he hears Byleth calling out for him to stop, he does not.
But, but somethings wrong… they run and they run but they never get any closer and then the Three Lights fire and Hubert watches as the spell hits Ferdinand and there’s blood everywhere and-
Hubert wakes up with a sharp gasp, immediately doubled over panting hard. All he can see is Ferdinand’s dead body, even as the fog of sleep clears it's hard to remember that it was just a dream, that Hubert had protected him. That Ferdinand is okay.
Hubert looks both ways, and sees no sign of any of his friends or Ferdinand. He silently slips into Ferdinand’s tent and, for a moment, loses all his thoughts. Even in this marching camp, with a tent that is constantly going up and down, Ferdinand’s alpha scent is strong enough to hang in the air. Hubert feels like a dog, as his heart rate jumps up and his mouth fills with spit. He pinches his own thigh hard, forcing himself to focus.
There isn’t much in the small tent. A cot, an armour stand, a chair, a chest. Upon the top of the chest is his prize, Ferdinand’s underlayers from yesterday, not yet taken for washing by a servant. Hubert grabs the shirt and stuffs it into one of his coat’s deep pockets, hopefully, the servant will be too tired and overworked to note the missing shirt. Once the clothing is hidden from sight he immediately returns to the doorway.
If he pauses even for a second he is worried that his control will slip and he will drop to his knees by the cot, press his face into it and inhale deeply. Surely it will smell perfect, the blankets that Ferdinand wraps himself in day after day-
Hubert realises that he’s turned to look at the bed, he pinches his thigh hard. What is wrong with him?
Hubert carefully checks that the coast is clear before slipping out of tent and returning to his own, the anticipation is overwhelming.
Hubert cannot hold back once in private, tugging the shirt out of his pocket, and pressing it to his face, inhaling deeply, mouth open. Ferdinand smells so perfect, his pheromones taste incredible and make his head spin. Hubert feels like an animal, but he doesn’t fucking care. Goddess Ferdinand loves animals, Hubert would be his animal, let Ferdinand train him and obey him and-
Hubert rips the shirt away from his face, trying to clear his mind slightly, it works a little but he’s back to thinking about Ferdinand’s bed. How does the other even fit in that bed, surely it’s too small for his magnificent shoulders? Hubert's feet hang off his own cot, even curled up slightly, but he’s not as broad in the shoulder as the other alpha or as muscle-filled and heavy. It can’t be comfortable or-
“Marquis Vestra?”
Hubert is snapped out of his musings. He shoves the shirt under his cot and turns to the door, “Enter,” he calls.
An agent steps in and starts to brief him on Kingdom armys movements, and he forces himself to focus on that, and not the depravity his out-of-control instincts wish to drag him down into.
Hubert looks up towards Garreg Mach and feels his stomach twist. In less than an hour, they will be back inside its walls, and Hubert’s life will get much harder.
Hubert runs logistics for the army when it’s marching, this means he’s always extraordinarily busy. It’s unpleasant and he normally looks forward to when he has a short break, but this time he dreads it.
Hubert has managed to easily avoid every conversation and person he has wanted to for the last four days. Hubert disappearing from meetings early, always handling something, being almost un-findable, none of these are unusual when they are marching. He’s barely put in any effort to his avoidance. But now they are back and soon Hubert will either have to face the music or people will notice his distant behaviour .
Hubert’s eyes flick guiltily to his saddle bag where Ferdinand’s shirt is hidden. He feels despicable for stealing the man’s shirt to huff and drool over when he’s avoiding him. Not that it would be much better if Hubert wasn’t. Perhaps he’d be less desperate to press the shirt to his nose and mouth and breathe in the pheromones until he feels like he’s drowned and left this mortal body if he was interacting with the other alpha.
Hubert pinches himself and tries to think clearly, but he can’t stop himself from picking out Ferdinand who’s riding some distance in front of him. This glimpse reassures him that Ferdinand is safe but seems to make him more ravenous. What is wrong with him?
Hubert has always acted irrationally towards the other alpha, far too eager to rile him up, and fight. He’d realised when they were students that he didn’t feel compelled towards it due to some need to posture, but because of his attraction towards Ferdinand. Despite how annoying Hubert found him, he smelt very nice, and his pheromones tasted good on Hubert’s tongue, especially when he was angry.
Since the Professor returned their relationship had evened out. Hubert had credited it to Ferdinand’s growth over the last few years and his own lack of interest in playing out childish antics for small amounts of carnal satisfaction. They had become friends over a few months, content to argue war, strategy and politics before settling down for a pleasant drink afterwards.
But before setting out one conversation had caused a shift, and Hubert had not even realised how monumental of a change it was until he saw Ferdinand in the distance, injured and vulnerable.
The conversation seemed so simple, they’d met on a path inside Garreg Mach, Hubert carrying tea and Ferdinand coffee. Both of them questioned the other about how the said possessions did not match the others taste, and then Hubert had said the words he didn’t know would change everything.
They echo in his mind as he watches Ferdinand ride.
“Is it a gift, perhaps for someone you fancy?”
Hubert's eyes are fixed on Ferdinand’s face, sure that the other would squirm under the suggestion that he’s attempting to court someone, the other is so proper in that way. But he does not.
“A gift, yes,” Ferdinand says without hesitation, this surprises Hubert, and he opens his mouth, prepared to tease further to get a small reaction, childish of him but satisfying nonetheless. But Ferdinand continues. “For you.”
“Who is the unlucky-” Hubert had already begun to speak before he processes the last words, he freezes, eyes widening, “Did you say for me?” Hubert’s eyes flick to the bag Ferdinand is holding and then back to his face. “This coffee is a gift for me? Have I heard you correctly?”
Ferdinand smiles, it is like the sun. “Yes. That is what I said. A noble does not go back on his word.” Hubert must be staring in shock of some sort as Ferdinand steps a little closer, lifting his hand and the coffee. “Just take it.”
Hubert is blindsided, but he forces himself to not stand and stare so thoughtlessly. “I should decline,” he replies, looking away from the bright grin. The bag of tea he holds feels ever so heavy in his hand. He’d acquired this bag of Ferdinand’s favourite for him, although he’d meant to simply prepare it when they took tea together, rather than gift it so boldly.
“Why?” Ferdinand asks, sounding so genuinely crestfallen. Hubert can’t look back and risk seeing the intensely sad expression on the other alphas face.
“The thought of receiving a gift from you, unbidden and unreciprocated, fills me with revulsion. Therefore” he says, lifting the bag of tea, “Accept this tea. As a gift. From me.” Looking up in time to see Ferdinand’s mournful face was worth it because Hubert gets to watch it transform into this shocked wonderful smile.
“For me? Are you certain? I would hate to deprive the intended recipient of such a fine tea.” Ferdinand says, sounding almost in awe of the present.
Hubert shifts on his feet, his chest feels tight, “That would be difficult to do since I bought it with you in mind,” he admits, who else would he buy Ferdinand’s favourite tea for?
"Oh, in that case, thank-” Ferdinand wasn’t quite listening, just as Hubert wasn’t earlier. The Alpha’s cheeks flush. “What? You were planning to give this to me all along?” he asks. Hubert enjoys this soft surprised look, much more than he could have enjoyed the flush he would have gotten making Ferdinand squirm.
“That is what I said,” he answers, he can feel that his own cheeks are warm.
“Really? I…” Ferdinand trails off before breaking off into laughter due to the amusing situation they found themselves in. Hubert is hit with a wave of pheromones as he opens his own mouth to laugh, each one tastes so excellent and tells him how truly happy Ferdinand is in that moment. His own laughter joins Ferdiand’s.
Once it has died down Ferdinand turns towards the nearby garden gate and gestures towards it. “Only one thing to do. We must take a tea break,” he declares. Ferdinand’s hair flutters in the light breeze as he smiles at Hubert so genuine and generous and for a second Hubert can’t breathe.
“Very well. But tea is not what I will be drinking,” he answers, defaulting back to the answer he had often used when they first started having ‘tea’ together.
Ferdinand’s grin simply widens, even though Hubert would not have believed it possible. “Of course. I will make you some coffee,” he says voice so overflowing with affection.
Ferdinand had been hopeless at making it at the start, but now he could make a cup just to Hubert’s taste. “Then I will prepare the tea,” Hubert replies. He’d known how to make tea for his Lady, but now he could make it the way that Ferdinand loved.
The two of them had gone off and had a pleasant time for almost an hour before being pulled back to their duties. Hubert hadn’t thought too much about it, aside from the wish to do so again soon. That was until that moment on the battlefield where he imagined Ferdiand’s death and-
“Minister Vesta!”
Hubert blinks, turning towards an agent to hear a report, pushing his own thoughts aside.
Hubert straps on his armour with distaste, he knows Byleth is punishing him with sword training. He’d argue against it if it didn’t mean having a conversation with her. It’s easy right now to just do the training. Even if it means that he’ll have to interact with the rest of the strike force, although luckily Ferdinand has yet to turn up, perhaps he was assigned to magic practice this week.
Hubert finishes getting his training gear on and goes out into the yard. Currently, physical fighters are here by themselves, the magic users will join them later. Hubert warms up with some jumping jacks and stretches, he finishes, and before he even has time to contemplate how he’d like to continue, Felix is standing in front of him.
“Spar with me,” the omega snaps, face and voice filled with even more hostility than normal.
Hubert raises an eyebrow, why is a master swordsman trying to spar with him of all people? “I don’t think that would be productive for either of us-“
“Shut the hell up, Vestra,” Felix snarls. “Draw your sword right now!”
Hubert draws the blunt training sword from his belt, “I fail to see the point, you will simply disarm me,” he points out. Their skill gap is gigantic and Felix is hardly the teaching type.
Felix’s lips pull back and he growls, “Your actions don’t say that, swooping in to obliterate enemy troops I was ordered to dispose of,” he snarls. “Or perhaps you think I’m still not loyal enough?” It dawns on Hubert that this must be about the last battle. He hadn’t thought much about whoever was meant to be taking the mages out…
Hubert schools his expression to neutrality. “Neither, in the moment my assessment led me to step in. I couldn’t tell when you would arrive so-“
“Oh, so it’s just that you thought I was dithering about like some ditzy omega?” Felix steps closer, his entire body shaking with tension.
Hubert wants to snap back about how Felix should have been faster, that he cared about nothing other than that. But he doesn’t, luckily it’s much easier to keep his cool when it’s a short omega getting furious, if nothing else Hubert’s mouth is further away from any scent glands.
“No-“
“Then fight me!” Felix screams and starts to swing his blade at Hubert. So close Hubert’s other instincts kick in as he drops and springs up to Felix’s side, grabbing for the currently absent knife he normally keeps up his sleeve. This stops him from putting a blade against the other's neck.
“Stop this,” Hubert snaps, genuinely angry now. How dare Felix act so affronted when his own lack of speed caused Hubert’s actions.
“No,” Felix snarls and whirls around jabbing at him, this time Hubert doesn’t fully dodge, the blade glancing off his arm. It’s going to leave a nasty bruise. “Not until you give me any explanation that makes any sense.”
Hubert meets the next blow with his own sword, “Felix, I felt that it was best that Holy knights did not take further losses-“
“Bullshit!” He snarls, “They are just toy soldiers to you, there no other explanation than you didn’t believe I’d stop them before they turned their magic on Edelgard!”
Hubert isn’t fast enough to block the next blow, it gets him in the stomach. The pain shoots through him, and something snaps. Hubert’s hand snaps out, quick as a viper, and grabs the blunt retreating blade. His other hand drops his sword. He yanks on Felix’s weapon, who stumbles forward and then grabs the omega with his other hand. In seconds Hubert is behind Felix, one hand holding his sword and the other around his neck.
“Shut your ignorant belligerent mouth,” he snarls. “Not everything has to do with you and your pathetic inferiority complex!” Felix tries to struggle and Hubert presses down harder on his throat, choking him. “You followed the orders like a loyal dog, but still you’d have been too late to stop their attack and Ferdinand would have DIED.”
It’s only once the sentence finishes and complete silence falls that Hubert realises that each word of the sentence had been getting louder until the last was a scream. Hubert doesn’t have time to dwell on it as Felix chokes out.
“What?”
“He was injured, badly” Hubert snaps, “If I hadn’t stepped in then we’d not be having a cute spar, you’d have been killed already for causing his death!” Hubert is panting, but suddenly he realises why the silence is deafening. Everyone in the training grounds is staring and-
Oh Goddess, oh no.
Hubert’s eyes connect with Ferdinand’s across the grounds.
Hubert let go of Felix, head spinning, Ferdinand heard that, and he's just choked an omega.
…
Hubert doesn’t even make the conscious decision, his hands move, his lips mutter and suddenly he’s warped away. For a second the word spins. Hubert puts both hands against the wall, he’s breathing fast and heavy. What’s happening to him? Losing control so easily, and Ferdinand heard him, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Hubert pushes himself back from the wall, he’s at the entrance to the dorms, and he’s torn between the ideas of his room and somewhere more hidden… Hubert clenches his fists, then with shaky hands he sends a magical message to his subordinate to find him at the underground bar.
Hubert hurries past everyone’s rooms, hating that this takes him closer to the training grounds. But soon he reaches the hidden entrance to the Abyss and descends the ladder into the secret city below the monastery. When Hubert enters the bar he simply means to have a drink as a courtesy to being allowed to hide in the corner. But he drinks the whisky and everything feels a little numb…
It’s nice…
“Aegir what did I say about sticking close!”
Hubert looks up with a frown, that’s Yuri’s voice. Hubert searches for the purple hair but instead sees ginger at the entrance to the bar.
…
Hubert’s hallucinating, sweet Ferdinand von Aegir doesn’t know how to get down into the Abyss.
“Hubert!”
Ferdinand has seen him and rushes over. Vaguely Hubert knows that he was avoiding Ferdinand for, some reason? But striding toward him so strong and broad and handsome and sweet, Hubert forgets why he’d ever want to do that.
He grins broadly, it feels strange. Ferdinand reaches his table, and leans down towards Hubert, “Hubert what have you been doing? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Better question is, is what you’re doing here?” He asks, it’s hard to talk, like his mouth is full of treacle.
“Goddess, Hubert how drunk are you?” Ferdinand hisses.
Yuri turns up beside Ferdinand and grabs his shoulder, “What did I tell you about running off? You’ll get eaten for breakfast down here!”
“You were taking too long,” Ferdinand snaps back.
Before Hubert even realises he’s growling up at Yuri teeth bared, “Get your hands off him.”
Yuri frowns, “I take angel boy here to you all safe and this is the thanks I get?” He asks unimpressed.
Hubert considers this, and stops growling, “Don’t touch him, but, thank you. Too sweet for here,” Hubert turns his gaze back to Ferdinand. “You’d get gobbled up in here, and I’m the only one allowed to do that.”
Ferdinand runs a hand through his hair, “He’s plastered,” he says exasperated.
Yuri nods, “Yeah it’s actually a little impressive how drunk he is and yet still able to speak.”
“I’m far from passing out,” Hubert claims and pushes his chair back. He pats his thigh, “Come sit Ferdinand, have a few with me.”
Ferdinand’s eyes widen and his cheeks blush, “Hubert, what, how,” he stutters. “You shouldn’t be here getting so drunk! We have a meeting tomorrow, we are leaving now, not drinking more!” Ferdinand steps closer, and reaches out, Hubert catches his hand in his own.
“I haven’t been that bad, didn’t even take any sizzle,” he promises with a grin. Although, maybe he should have.
“What’s Sizzle?” Ferdinand asks confused.
Hubert laughs and so does Yuri.
Ferdinand’s cheeks flush a darker pink, “W-what?”
“Your innocence is adorable Aegir,” Yuri says with a shrug.
Hubert points at Yuri with his free hand, “Don’t tell my Ferdinand he’s adorable.”
Yuri raises an eyebrow, “Yours?” He questions. “Says who?”
“Me!” Hubert snaps and uses Ferdinand’s hand to pull him closer. Originally he’s thinking about coaxing him into his lap, but then he inhales and oh . Ferdinand smells so good all other thoughts are blocked from his mind. He leans forward and presses his face into Ferdinand’s stomach, inhaling deeply through his mouth and moaning at the taste. Hubert basks in it for a few glorious seconds before it’s ripped away.
“Hubert!” Ferdinand is standing a little back.
“Come back,” he whines, “Need you, promise I can make you feel so good.”
“W-what?” Ferdinand stutters.
Yuri laughs, “Hubert you couldn’t muster up enough coordination to poorly use your hands right now, let alone anything else.”
Hubert glares at him, “What would you know?” He snaps.
Yuri leans down, “I’ve heard the reviews of the many satisfied von Vestra customers,” the alpha purrs. Hubert’s nose wrinkles at information that his one-night stands have been talking. “If you weren’t so annoying I’d have tried to get a sample myself,” Yuri says flashing a grin.
Hubert makes another face, “Not interested in someone who’s barely more than bones.” Yuri pulls back laughing.
“What are you two talking about?” Ferdinand demands.
Yuri turns to Ferdinand, “Oh nothing for your innocent ears Aegir,” he says with a grin. “Now are we getting Vestra out of here or not?”
Ferdinand bites his beautiful plush lip.
“Yuri-“ he starts, but the other alpha cuts him off.
“I’ve already spilled too many of The Bert’s secrets today, let’s get him back upstairs.”
“Don’t call me that,” Hubert grumbles.
Ferdinand huffs and steps forward, “You are too drunk to walk you out, this is easier.”
Ferdinand cups his cheek and Hubert leans into it, already thinking about licking the other's wrist when suddenly the world spins and goes black.