[ Sylvain can feel Claude's eyes on him, but that doesn't make him turn. Making eye contact now feels too vulnerable, and Sylvain already feels like he's shaking from these shows of weakness. He feels nearly sick to his stomach with it, bubbling full of emotions he can't name, control, or sort.
Love has always been a difficult and complicated subject for him. It's not really an emotion he's ever understood, because it was never modeled for him. His parents never loved each other, and they certainly never loved him. They took pride in him, they were happy to have him, because he represented the heir they wanted. He could perform for them. He was a protege with a lance. He was their offspring, but he was never their son.
It's more complicated with his friends, though less obviously transactional.
He's drawn back in from his spiraling thoughts when Claude so tenderly calls his name. His eyes focus again, and he turns at last to meet his worried husband's gaze.
Only to suddenly feel so dizzy he's certain he's falling, despite being lain in bed. He forgets how to breathe, for a moment, his chest tight and shivering. He's trembling like a leaf. ]
G-get up on the bed with me. Please?
[ He needs Claude closer. He needs... something. To cling, to hold on tight? To feel grounded? He doesn't even know. He still feels like his chest is caving in, and tears are stinging his eyes and goddess damn it now he's crying too. He struggles in a deep breath, and it shakes on the way in, and as he breathes it out the tears come in earnest.
He waits until Claude joins him, and he wraps arms around him and clings, pulling in tight, and not even caring that his side hurts from the moving and stretching and weight of Claude's body. That doesn't matter right now. Any pain in his body is survivable because the constant pain in his heart is finally starting to ease. ]
[Claude doesn't feel inclined to deny Sylvain anything right now, even if he wasn't trembling and tearing up. He's moving onto the bed before Sylvain has finished speaking, careful not to lean too heavily on his side. He cups Sylvain's cheeks in his hands, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.
They haven't spoken much about their lives before they got married, and Claude didn't know for fact what had gone on in the Gautier family... but he has a pretty good idea. Love is a complicated and painful thing, the lack of it a gaping wound they both share.
Claude pays his own tears no mind, instead pressing featherlight kisses over Sylvain's face, shushing him softly and running soothing fingers through his hair. He presses their foreheads together, whispering the words again.] I love you.
[ Whatever barriers Sylvain still had erected up around his heart are dissolving like so much paper in the rain. He even starts to feel like he doesn't care about the pathetic amount of crying he's letting out, all over Claude's hands, kissed away by too-tender kisses.
He nuzzles back into the forehead touch, clinging onto his husband for dear life. He hiccups. ]
I love you.
[ It comes out in a croak, and Sylvain swallows it down to repeat it again. ]
I love you, too.
[ And as it says it he knows it's true. Confirmation of something that had been true already, but Sylvain had denied. Had tried to deny even as he was putting his life in danger for it. If Claude can be brave enough to say it... so will Sylvain.
He shakes again, but this time it's with a slightly hysterical laughter. It's wild and emotional and strange, but it doesn't last long. As it dies, Sylvain takes Claude's face in his hands in return, and kisses him square on the lips. It's firm and definitive but chaste, the punctuation on his statement. ]
[Claude can't help a breathy laugh at the words-- it's a sound of nearly overwhelming relief and sheer happiness. And it's lost in the sound of Sylvain's wild laugh, in the kiss. In many ways, it feels like a first kiss. The first truly honest one, maybe.
Claude smiles against Sylvain's lips, and the warmth of it more than reaches his eyes. He can't resist going in for another kiss, brief and sweet.]
You'd better heal quickly. [He kisses him again, pressing closer.] I need to thank you for saving my life, [kiss] reward you for your bravery, [kiss] and make sure you understand how important you are to me. [and one more kiss for good measure, this one deeper, every bit as promising as the words it punctuates.]
[ Just like that, a heart that had felt like a stone in its heaviness lifts as if grown wings. That look on Claude's face could do Sylvain in, in an instant. It's so genuine and Sylvain realizes in that moment that he's never seen his husband smile like that before.
He makes a soft sound into that second kiss, almost a hum and almost a whimper. The last remaining feeling of loneliness being banishes from his chest via his mouth. ]
Is that s-mmm [ He tries to respond but instead is kissed and he's okay with that. He lets them keep coming, smiling against Claude's lips and chuckling. The final kiss draws a sigh out of him, adoration and joy filling him up. He's breathless when Claude finally releases him from the gauntlet of smooches, and his eyes sparkle with a new light. ]
I promise I will be less reckless about it, if a second time comes. I never want to see you that upset, ever again.
[ His turn to pull Claude in for a kiss. ]
I want you to kiss me like that every day from now on.
[Interrupting Sylvain with a kiss makes him chuckle too, the lightness in his chest now a bit disorienting after the heaviness he'd felt earlier, watching over his husband's prone form. How did he ever get so lucky?]
I suppose that's all I can ask. [He tucks some of Sylvain's hair behind his ear, hand stroking along the man's jaw as he's pulled into yet another kiss.]
Good, because I was going to anyway. [He moves to settle at Sylvain's side, trying to alleviate the strain on his wound but unwilling to move away any further.] You need anything? I'll-- get someone else to bring it. [He grins-- yeah, he's definitely not going to be leaving Sylvain's side for a while.]
[If only the mood here could last forever, with Claude's light laughter and all the sweetness on his face. Sylvain may explode from the feelings of love that fill his chest, but that would be the best possible death he's ever considered for himself.
He sighs into that touch, that final kiss, a delighted rather than an embarrassed flush crossing his cheeks.
Claude settles in and Sylvain tangles fingers in his hair, idly toying with it.]
What do you want to eat more than anything in the world right now?
[He's very much in the mood for spoiling his husband, and lucky enough to have the resources to go through with pretty much any request. He rests his head on Sylvain's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of those lance-calloused fingers combing through his curls.]
If it's something that will take a significant amount of time, though, you might want to consider a faster back-up choice to tide you over. [He captures Sylvain's free hand in his own, threading their fingers together and pulling it up to his lips to kiss the back of Sylvain's knuckles.]
[Sylvain, stranger still, is in the mood to be spoiled. He turns his head to kiss Claude's forehead in some measure of retaliation for that hand kiss. Which has his cheeks feeling warm, as embarrassing as that is.]
Truthfully... [Goddess he is such a child.] Sweet buns.
[Sure enough, the forehead kiss makes him blush. Another thing he's not experienced since he was too young to remember.]
I can make that happen. [No judging here! He just squeezes Sylvain's hand, then eyes the door. The mature thing to do would be to suck it up, dislodge himself from his husband, and tell the guard at the door to get a servant on making those sweet buns. But Claude doesn't particularly want to be mature right now. Yelling will do just fine.]
Guards!
[Being good enough guards that Claude trusts them to defend his bed chambers, where his injured husband lays, they immediately burst into the room, expecting a threat. Claude grins, utterly unrepentant.]
We need sweet buns. It's very important. Please pass that along to the head of staff. [She'll be sure it's all done correctly-- no one Claude doesn't personally trust makes it past the lowest rungs in his family's employ, not since he started taking on duties as crown prince.] And sorry to startle you. [But not that sorry.]
[Sylvain watches with a slowly raising eyebrow as Claude turns to the door. He can practically see the cogs turning behind those brown curls.
Claude shouts for the guards, the poor put-upon guards who probably think it's another attempt on his life, and Sylvain lifts his free hand to cover his mouth. Which has broken into a shit-eating grin. He stifles his giggles, somehow, until the order is given and the guards scurry off, at which point he dissolves into childish peals of laughter.]
Claude you're terrible! [Chastizing holds no power, however, because Sylvain is nudging with his forehead and squeezing their joined hands.] I think you just shaved five years off of each of their lives.
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Love has always been a difficult and complicated subject for him. It's not really an emotion he's ever understood, because it was never modeled for him. His parents never loved each other, and they certainly never loved him. They took pride in him, they were happy to have him, because he represented the heir they wanted. He could perform for them. He was a protege with a lance. He was their offspring, but he was never their son.
It's more complicated with his friends, though less obviously transactional.
He's drawn back in from his spiraling thoughts when Claude so tenderly calls his name. His eyes focus again, and he turns at last to meet his worried husband's gaze.
Only to suddenly feel so dizzy he's certain he's falling, despite being lain in bed. He forgets how to breathe, for a moment, his chest tight and shivering. He's trembling like a leaf. ]
G-get up on the bed with me. Please?
[ He needs Claude closer. He needs... something. To cling, to hold on tight? To feel grounded? He doesn't even know. He still feels like his chest is caving in, and tears are stinging his eyes and goddess damn it now he's crying too. He struggles in a deep breath, and it shakes on the way in, and as he breathes it out the tears come in earnest.
He waits until Claude joins him, and he wraps arms around him and clings, pulling in tight, and not even caring that his side hurts from the moving and stretching and weight of Claude's body. That doesn't matter right now. Any pain in his body is survivable because the constant pain in his heart is finally starting to ease. ]
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They haven't spoken much about their lives before they got married, and Claude didn't know for fact what had gone on in the Gautier family... but he has a pretty good idea. Love is a complicated and painful thing, the lack of it a gaping wound they both share.
Claude pays his own tears no mind, instead pressing featherlight kisses over Sylvain's face, shushing him softly and running soothing fingers through his hair. He presses their foreheads together, whispering the words again.] I love you.
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He nuzzles back into the forehead touch, clinging onto his husband for dear life. He hiccups. ]
I love you.
[ It comes out in a croak, and Sylvain swallows it down to repeat it again. ]
I love you, too.
[ And as it says it he knows it's true. Confirmation of something that had been true already, but Sylvain had denied. Had tried to deny even as he was putting his life in danger for it. If Claude can be brave enough to say it... so will Sylvain.
He shakes again, but this time it's with a slightly hysterical laughter. It's wild and emotional and strange, but it doesn't last long. As it dies, Sylvain takes Claude's face in his hands in return, and kisses him square on the lips. It's firm and definitive but chaste, the punctuation on his statement. ]
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Claude smiles against Sylvain's lips, and the warmth of it more than reaches his eyes. He can't resist going in for another kiss, brief and sweet.]
You'd better heal quickly. [He kisses him again, pressing closer.] I need to thank you for saving my life, [kiss] reward you for your bravery, [kiss] and make sure you understand how important you are to me. [and one more kiss for good measure, this one deeper, every bit as promising as the words it punctuates.]
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He makes a soft sound into that second kiss, almost a hum and almost a whimper. The last remaining feeling of loneliness being banishes from his chest via his mouth. ]
Is that s-mmm [ He tries to respond but instead is kissed and he's okay with that. He lets them keep coming, smiling against Claude's lips and chuckling. The final kiss draws a sigh out of him, adoration and joy filling him up. He's breathless when Claude finally releases him from the gauntlet of smooches, and his eyes sparkle with a new light. ]
I promise I will be less reckless about it, if a second time comes. I never want to see you that upset, ever again.
[ His turn to pull Claude in for a kiss. ]
I want you to kiss me like that every day from now on.
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I suppose that's all I can ask. [He tucks some of Sylvain's hair behind his ear, hand stroking along the man's jaw as he's pulled into yet another kiss.]
Good, because I was going to anyway. [He moves to settle at Sylvain's side, trying to alleviate the strain on his wound but unwilling to move away any further.] You need anything? I'll-- get someone else to bring it. [He grins-- yeah, he's definitely not going to be leaving Sylvain's side for a while.]
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He sighs into that touch, that final kiss, a delighted rather than an embarrassed flush crossing his cheeks.
Claude settles in and Sylvain tangles fingers in his hair, idly toying with it.]
Just you. Mmmn- no, I told a lie. I'm hungry...
[Recovering from a wound is hard work!]
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[He's very much in the mood for spoiling his husband, and lucky enough to have the resources to go through with pretty much any request. He rests his head on Sylvain's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of those lance-calloused fingers combing through his curls.]
If it's something that will take a significant amount of time, though, you might want to consider a faster back-up choice to tide you over. [He captures Sylvain's free hand in his own, threading their fingers together and pulling it up to his lips to kiss the back of Sylvain's knuckles.]
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Truthfully... [Goddess he is such a child.] Sweet buns.
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I can make that happen. [No judging here! He just squeezes Sylvain's hand, then eyes the door. The mature thing to do would be to suck it up, dislodge himself from his husband, and tell the guard at the door to get a servant on making those sweet buns. But Claude doesn't particularly want to be mature right now. Yelling will do just fine.]
Guards!
[Being good enough guards that Claude trusts them to defend his bed chambers, where his injured husband lays, they immediately burst into the room, expecting a threat. Claude grins, utterly unrepentant.]
We need sweet buns. It's very important. Please pass that along to the head of staff. [She'll be sure it's all done correctly-- no one Claude doesn't personally trust makes it past the lowest rungs in his family's employ, not since he started taking on duties as crown prince.] And sorry to startle you. [But not that sorry.]
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Claude shouts for the guards, the poor put-upon guards who probably think it's another attempt on his life, and Sylvain lifts his free hand to cover his mouth. Which has broken into a shit-eating grin. He stifles his giggles, somehow, until the order is given and the guards scurry off, at which point he dissolves into childish peals of laughter.]
Claude you're terrible! [Chastizing holds no power, however, because Sylvain is nudging with his forehead and squeezing their joined hands.] I think you just shaved five years off of each of their lives.