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Memories of the past are both a blessing and a curse. Nobody knows that better than Duke Felix Fraldarius-Gautier and his husband Sylvain. The greater part of the first quarter-century of their lives were spent in a bloody, war-torn world, never knowing for certain if they’d made it to the next sunrise. Self-imposed walls and different methods of coping shaped them even after the turmoil was over. They always hugged and kissed for a long time before going to sleep. Much of their free time was spent simply existing at each other’s side, never taking a carefree moment between them for granted.
But throughout all the grief, all of the misery, they could not forget the good memories that happened during bad times. Their love had blossomed and grown throughout their time at Garreg Mach, especially after the fight against the empire began. Knowing they had the other, despite not knowing for how long, was a great comfort that got them through their darkest days. Even if one or both of them were injured in battle, they always held each other at night, soothing each other to sleep after frightening and uncertain days.
The war had left scars on both of them. Mental, physical, some large and some barely noticeable on the two. They’d seen friends die; they’d witnessed each other being nearly ripped apart by imperial soldiers. The physical reminders on their skin now had mostly turned to white, but they stood out when they looked at each other, when they looked in the mirror. Sylvain would often find himself tracing over the scars on his husband’s arms the most, would raise them up to his cheek and hold them there before kissing them. Felix rubbed lotion on Sylvain’s back and was still gentle in places that had not ailed him for a decade.
There was a certain beauty to them. Beauty in the reminder that without some of these scars, they would not be here today. The empire might have won were it not for some of their wounds. Dimitri would have fallen in battle had they not offered certain sacrifices, and their King would have never gained victory over the Empress. One could even say these scars were aesthetically pleasing; intricate, beautiful lines that crisscrossed their bodies that told their story of victory.
Felix had long accepted his scars, had held a special place in his heart for the reminders he and his husband wore on their skin. What he wasn’t prepared for, though, was his son’s reaction the first time he really noticed how different their skin looked.
“Dada boo boo,” Eisner said sadly, pointing to one of the deeper ones on his arm. Dressed in casual, loose-fitting clothing on a summer visit to the capitol, his two-year-old saw the scar and had nearly started crying.
“No, baby, Dada’s not hurt,” he soothed him, pulling him into his lap and kissing his cheek.
“Dada hurt,” Eisner insisted, laying his hand gently on the area again, his other going up to Felix’s lips as his eyes watered. Felix had to bite his lip and force a smile as his son bent down and kissed the scar, patting it softly like they did whenever he bumped his head or fell down. He didn’t know or understand why his son’s reaction had affected him so, especially when he’d grown his sense of pride. Perhaps it was the desire to never see his child with scars like his or Sylvain’s. He could barely conceive an image in his mind of Eisner picking up a sword despite desperately wanting to teach him as he grew up. Felix knew if he ever saw him with a wound part of his soul would leave his body.
He decided that his skin was scarred and imperfect so his son’s wouldn’t have to be.
“Thank you, my heart. Dada feels a lot better,” he smiled, kissing Eisner’s little hand and embracing him. He was such a gentle thing, not happy until whoever he was with smiled.
**
Later that evening, shortly after Felix had laid with Eisner until he fell asleep in Lambert’s old nursery, he sat up with Sylvain in their guest chamber. He’d been able to smile for his son for the rest of the afternoon, but as soon as he was asleep, the feeling of emptiness and sorrow had returned to him. Sylvain had noticed as soon as he’d returned to bed, concernedly looking at his husband when he immediately curled up in his arms on top of the covers.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“No,” Felix replied, shutting his eyes tightly and burrowing his face in Sylvain’s chest. The other man set down the book he was browsing on the nightstand and rolled over onto his side, pressing kisses against the Duke’s forehead and cheeks.
“Talk to me, my love.”
Felix took a shaky breath and quickly wiped away the small tears that had formed in his eyes. He looked up at Sylvain with a strained expression, mouth opening and closing as he decided what he wanted to say.
“Today when I was sitting with Eisner… he saw some of the scars on my arms.” Felix slid up the sleeves on his robes, revealing the Thoron ones on his left arm. “He was almost in tears, Syl. I know it scared him to see me like this.”
Sylvain delicately touched the darker skin on his husband’s arm, picking it up gently and kissing it from habit. It was enough to at least get the look of horror off of Felix’s face, which made Sylvain smile softly.
“He’s still so little, babe. I know you know he doesn’t understand,” Sylvain said, pulling him close to his chest and rubbing his back lovingly. “That’s going to take time. And probably one or two more conversations,” he laughed, running his hand down Felix’s side. He rubbed around his hip bone in circles, scooting down so their lips could meet.
“It just… devastated me to see him crying because of me,” Felix muttered, nails digging into Sylvain’s shirt achingly. He knew it was a silly desire, but not wanting his son to ever be upset or scared was something he strove for daily.
“Fe, look at me,” Sylvain replied quietly, a gentle but stern look crossing his face. Felix’s eyes watered as he did so, but the reassuring grip his husband had on him was at least helping the storm that was raging inside of him. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. Eis will know that someday. He’ll know how hard you fought, the sacrifices and pain you went through in order to stay alive. Our son will see those scars as medals of honor, just like we do.”
Felix nodded quietly, taking a deep breath while Sylvain’s hands lovingly massaged him.
“Thank you, my love. I just hope his body never has to bear the same scars ours do. I do not want that future for him.”
“Me either, Fe. I want him to make it through this life without knowing what war is like. We all just need to keep things running smoothly so he doesn’t,” Sylvain smiled. His hand sneakily went down into the front of Felix’s robes, a saccharine smile on his face. “In the meantime, I can just show you how beautiful I think you are…”
“I suppose that might get my mind off it,” Felix replied, his voice folding into a purr against his husband’s lips. “…Thank you for listening to me, Syl. I know it’s silly.”
“No, my beautiful Duke, you’re not silly.”
Sylvain sat up in between Felix’s legs on his knees after grabbing oil from the nightstand. He slowly slid his robes off his body, eyes lovingly locking on to all of the imperfections on his skin. When the outer layer of clothing had been discarded and his shirt lazily thrown to the ground, the redhead ran his nose over the other. He breathed against him, pressing long, meaningful kisses on each inch of every scar. Between each section of his torso he returned to his lips and ran his tongue over them before kissing him deeply, heart thumping in his chest with each gasp and whine from the Duke’s mouth.
“Not many men in Faerghus can call themselves as lucky as I am,” he muttered against his collarbone, licking a thin white mark that ran from Felix’s Adam’s apple. His right hand achingly clutched Felix’s hand, fingers interlacing. His other went down to rub his hardening erection under the thin white garment he wore underneath the robes. “They don’t know what it’s like to have such a beautiful person to spend their lives with. Beautiful from the inside out.”
Felix closed his eyes gently and squeezed Sylvain’s hand. His face was reddening from the attention to his body as well as his mind and heart.
“And they surely don’t know the pleasures of making love to such a beautiful Duke.”
Sylvain moved the fabric from Felix’s body and slid down onto his stomach, running his tongue over the other’s thighs while he drizzled oil onto his fingers. He took his cock into his mouth and began sucking while his middle finger gently pushed inside him. The Duke shuddered and found his hands weaving into his husband’s hair, gently pulling and clenching with each bob of his head over his groin. He missed the compliments, but couldn’t deny the fire that burned through him seeing his beautiful mouth taking him so lovingly.
“You… call y-yourself lucky,” he nearly whispered, back arching off the bed. Sylvain had been shirtless when Felix had returned to him, so his bare back and arms could be seen. “My husband is a warrior. A protector. A m-man who’s saved me countless t-times… Fuck, Syl…”
Sylvain’s finger was fully inside him, massaging his insides while his cock pressed to the back of his throat. A soft hum from his mouth shot up Felix’s body and threatened to set him ablaze. The other looked up at him with such devotion, such soothing love, it made Felix’s heart ache. When he popped off his erection to glide his tongue over his entrance, his hands shot down to the sheets to grip.
“These more intimate scars are for me and me alone to see, Duke Fraldarius,” Sylvain breathed out, teeth running along Felix’s thigh, nearly biting down into the skin. Felix whimpered in pleasure and continued pumping himself while his husband sung him his praises. “There are some the world gets to see, if they’re lucky. But the entirety of all of your beauty is for our eyes only.”
Sylvain sat up and pulled Felix with him, leading him off the bed and over to the mirror that stood nearby. He stood behind the Duke and wrapped his right arm around his torso, resuming stretching him with the other.
“Look at how beautiful you are, my Duke,” he growled in his ear, clutching the skin on Felix’s arm that held the most scar tissue. “Look at these reminders of your victories, your triumphs.” Sylvain’s ring finger joined his middle one inside Felix, making a pitiful moan of pleasure spill out of his mouth while he stretched him. The younger man fell forward a bit, pressing his ass hungrily up against the other.
“Only you make me feel so beautiful, my love,” Felix replied quietly, his hands going up and reaching around his husband’s neck. He stood on his toes and positioned his ass over his hard erection, moving his head to the side to kiss him. The Duke squirmed when Sylvain pulled his fingers out of him. Sylvain led him back to the bed, standing up on the side of it while he drizzled more oil over his cock.
“I love you, Fe,” he muttered with a smile, pulling Felix to the edge of the mattress by his hips and teasing his entrance.
“I love you, Syl.”
Sylvain growled as he pressed himself down inside the other, half-lidded eyes gazing down at him intensely as he filled him up. He traced the scars on his stomach and legs, heat already beginning to pool in his stomach. With a grunt of urgency from the other, he smirked and pulled out of him only to slam back inside with a moan. Felix’s back shot off the bed in an arch, his red cheeks making Sylvain see stars. He pumped his cock achingly slow while he fucked him, his other hand gripping against a dark gash that came down over his husband’s thigh.
“F-fuck, Syl-vain—” Felix pulled his legs back to his chest and sheepishly moaned into the crook of his arm, giving the redhead full view of the array of scars on the back of his thighs and stomach. Sylvain nearly clawed at them in desire, his head falling back as he grunted into the warm air around them. He fucked Felix down into the mattress, hands in a fury over the intricate story that was the Duke’s skin. The other’s pitiful moans and gasps heaved his chest underneath him. He moved his hand to the other’s cock to pump him as he leaned down and breathed over his panting mouth.
“No matter what you look like, Fe, I’ll always love you.” Sylvain cupped Felix’s chin and kissed him deeply as he hurtled towards the edge of release, the sight of him, his beautiful Felix, so utterly blissed out and happy, nearly enough to finish the job. “If your scars fade, if you get more, it’ll never change you, my heart.”
“Syl—I’m c-cumming—”
Felix’s legs and arms clung to Sylvain as his back arched off the bed, his erection erupting and covering both their stomachs with his release. The redhead growled in pleasure at the sensation, grabbing Felix’s hair and wrapping it around his hand quickly as he increased his thrusts. He eyed his hair accessory: a beautiful stone ornament in the shape of the crest of Gautier. The cool metal of Felix’s wedding band could be felt against his warm back. This was his husband he was making love to, every beautiful inch of his imperfect body a living embodiment of his soul. The father of his child, one half of a strongly beating heart inside Sylvain’s chest.
Sylvain gripped his hips forcefully as one last thrust down into him set his body on fire. He called out the Duke’s name like a prayer, incapable of looking anywhere but down into his eyes as he finished inside him.
Felix had a soft glow, nearly an angelic halo of light around him as Sylvain looked down into his warm copper eyes. As the Duke came down off his orgasm, Sylvain gently pulled out of him and fell over his torso, rubbing up his arms and chest as he kissed his scars once more. Felix’s eyes closed softly, his chest rising and falling as his husband continued to quietly worship his form.
“Sylvain…” Felix pulled the redhead down over his chest and held him close, kissing his sweaty forehead and face. “I feel… so much better.”
“I’d sure hope so,” Sylvain winked jokingly, lacing his fingers in with Felix and smooching his bare chest. Felix laughed and wrapped his arms wholly around the other’s back, a vulnerable clinginess bubbling in his stomach after their passionate exchange. Sylvain happily accepted the closeness, nearly curling up on top of the Duke. “Maybe I can show Eis some of my scars tomorrow. We can show him little by little, get him more used to them, baby.”
Felix nodded and clung to his husband, not worrying about the mess they had to clean up as long as he was by his side.
**
“Daddy hurt?! Dada… Daddy hurt.”
“No, baby, look here.” Sylvain patted his lap for Eisner to sit down, pushing up the sleeve on his robes. His son’s eyes didn’t water this time, but widened when he saw similar scars on Sylvain’s arms. Felix scooted closer to them on the carpet of their guest chamber, putting his own beside his husband’s and smiling softly at their baby.
“Dada and Daddy aren’t hurt, Eisner. But you can still give lots of kisses.”
“These are just scars, baby. They don’t hurt us,” Sylvain insisted, poking both him and Felix to show their little boy. Eisner looked at them unconvinced, but put his little finger on their skin.
“No hurt?”
“Nope!”
Eisner leaned over and kissed both of his fathers’ arms, a soft smile on his face. It was a baby step, at least, and a great improvement from the day prior. He showered his fathers with kisses, his little hands bringing them together so he could sit on both of them. Felix regarded his little family, heart full and slowly relinquishing the guilt that his anxiety had manifested. There’d be more moments like these as their son grew, he was certain, but there was a comfort in knowing Sylvain would be there by his side to help him through it. The memory of showing their son their scars would always be poignant for Felix, one of the first of many as their son learned about the world.