Chapter Text
The wooden planks groaned against the heavy winds. There were few things left standing in the hollowed shell of the town — they were lucky to have found a shack in the outskirts to wait out the blizzard, though by the looks of it, there was still the possibility of the rickety structure collapsing in on them. The door rattling against the wind behind them, Sylvain sat heavily onto the floor, his armor creaking and clanking against the wall. Felix secured the door before glancing back at him.
“Are you injured?” Felix asked.
“Just lost some of my dignity,” Sylvain sighed. The skirmish had not showcased one of his best moments — he had been, quite literally, knocked right off his saddle by a stray spell. Luckily, it had only stunned him, the fall hurting more than anything else, before Felix had shouted him into getting back on his feet. Unluckily, it had spooked his horse, leaving them with no way to regroup with the others before the weather worsened, forcing them to seek shelter until they could safely make their way back.
Casting Sylvain one more look, Felix shook the snow off his cloak and looked around. There wasn’t much to see — the shack was more like a glorified shed, storing a few farming tools and little else, probably having been looted of anything useful already. There was no space to make a fire, not that they could risk drawing attention from any lingering enemy forces or worse, accidentally burning down the shack and leaving them exposed to the elements.
Though, strangely enough, Sylvain didn’t feel cold at all.
“Is it —,” the plates of Sylvain’s armor scraped against one another as he sat up, “— don’t you think it’s a bit warm in here?”
Felix glanced out the dirty window before pulling the tattered cloth curtain closed. “There’s a snowdrift outside you’re welcome to throw yourself into,” Felix replied, clearly not taking him seriously.
Now that he thought about it, he had been warm since the end of the battle, thinking it was just lingering adrenaline. Sylvain was fairly resistant to the cold, his tolerance only strengthened by the five years of night patrols along the Gautier-Sreng border, but it was more of a numbness to cold rather than an ability to generate his own heat. The flakes of snow in his hair had long melted, water mixing with the sweat forming on his temples, matting down his fur-lined collar. Heat radiated from his neck, making him itch; he felt like he was slowly steaming in his armor. “Help me out of my armor.”
Felix looked at him like he had gone mad. “What are you —”
“Felix,” Sylvain said, already yanking off his gauntlets. There must have been an edge to his voice because Felix didn’t say another word and went to his side at once, working at the belts and ties. In record time, his pauldrons went, then his chestplate — there was an advantage to having a former squire with him. Left in his shirt and pants, Sylvain tugged at his collar to let the cold air in, but he only felt hotter. Felix looked him over again, trying to locate an injury — he looked down, only for his head to shoot right back up, his eyes narrowed in a glare.
“Is this really the time for that?”
Confused, Sylvain looked down. “Huh,” he said, not expecting to see the very obvious bulge in front of his pants.
Shooting him an exasperated look, Felix stood. “Is this why you’re always in a hurry to get back after a battle?”
“I’m in a hurry to get back because I’m tired,” Sylvain muttered defensively, only a little embarrassed as he covered the front of his pants with his hand. Perhaps this explained the faint throbbing pain he had been feeling too, though he thought it was just muscle soreness. There were certainly times when he liked to unwind after a hard-fought bout, but he couldn’t say he’d ever been spurred into a particularly amorous mood because of one. “It’ll go away in a bit.”
Scoffing, Felix moved to the other corner of the shack, sitting down and pulling his cloak around his shoulders. Sylvain shifted again, his head falling back against the wall as he closed his eyes, absently palming himself in an effort to quell his erection. Sylvain had his share of inappropriate hard-ons in his lifetime, but he wasn’t a teenager anymore — he thought he’d outgrown them, or at least, gotten fairly good at taming them. The floorboard creaked as Sylvain’s legs moved restlessly, the spurs of his sabatons scraping against the rotting wood. The heat and the pain was steadily growing worse, moving uneasily underneath his skin.
“If you need to take care of it, get it over with.”
Sylvain let out a sharp exhale. “It’s fine.”
“If I have to hear another minute of you fidgeting, I’ll throw you into the snow myself.”
It was becoming unbearable. He glanced at Felix, who was steadfastly watching the door, perhaps giving Sylvain as much privacy as he could. It wasn’t as though they didn’t encounter this sort of thing before — the long marches, the shared tents at night. Unable to resist any longer, Sylvain licked his palm and shoved his hand down his pants, sighing with relief as he wrapped his hand around his cock. “Sorry,” he bit out. “I’ll make it quick.”
Jerking off was easy enough. Being at Garreg Mach had given him no shortage of source material, but in the five years since, Felix appeared most frequently in his occasional nightly fantasy. It had started out as a shallow thing, a desire to see something other than disdain on Felix’s face. Sylvain used to think about the usual things, kissing him, fucking him, imagining the kinds of cute expressions Felix would make, before it began to take interesting turns as they grew closer again — like holding Felix, his body the perfect size to fit in his arms, Felix’s eyes watching him in the dark as Sylvain ran his fingers through his long hair, Felix in his lap, issuing commands as he used Sylvain for his own pleasure. The first time he came thinking of Felix saying he loved him had hit him like a second puberty — love and sex had been so far removed from one another that Sylvain avoided thinking about it for weeks before he gave in again, finding solace in the fantasy when things grew truly bleak.
Sylvain sighed, trying to settle into the right mood. There was something darkly arousing about fantasizing about someone while they were in the room. His hand firm around his cock, he set a steady pace, his hips twitching; he was so hard he could probably keep his thoughts relatively tame. For someone so uninterested in any physical relations not involving a sword, Felix was unfairly erotic — from the way he moved with a ruthless grace when he fought to the way his eyes flashed when he glared. The way he lounged around wearing those ridiculous thigh-highs that had to be some sort of punishment from the Goddess herself. His haughty grin when he won a spar, the soft flush of his cheeks when he was embarrassed. Sylvain bit his lip as he tensed, expecting pleasure only to feel a tight cramp in his stomach, a pathetic dribble of come spouting from his cock. Moving his hand inside his pants only allowed for so much movement; a dismayed grunt escaped his throat as he managed to get his thumb against the head of his cock, trying to chase after his orgasm, only for it to completely escape his grasp.
“Are you done?”
Sylvain panted, giving up. His thighs were sticky with sweat, too warm in his thick winter pants. He lifted his hips, shoving his pants down. “Just need another minute.”
-
The wind howled in between the silence of the falling snow.The shack grew darker as the snow piled up outside, blocking out the daylight slipping through the cracks between the wooden planks. It might have been something to worry about if it didn’t feel like Sylvain was keeping the shack warm with the heat coming off his cock alone.
“Are you still going?” Felix muttered incredulously.
His hand still pumping his cock, Sylvain could only answer with a weak groan. If this was punishment for his youthful transgressions, he would gladly give up sex for two months — or one — maybe three weeks. Even puberty wasn’t this bad. The hem of his pants curled over his leg armor, he grunted as his stomach clenched painfully, as he came for the third or fourth time, another weak spurt of come adding to the mess on his stomach. He let go of himself, catching his breath while he could, shaking out his legs and readjusting himself to keep his ass from going numb. He lowered his bleary-eyed gaze to his cock, deeply betrayed upon seeing that it remained stubbornly upright. Coming gave him some reprieve, but it was brief, the urge to touch himself growing worse with every unsatisfying orgasm, crossing the territory of discomfort and moving firmly into pain. “I think something’s wrong.”
A huff. “Sounds like a personal problem.”
“Even I can’t go this long.” Sylvain closed his eyes, trying to brace against the pain as he took in slow, even breaths, trying to tamp down the insane urge to ask Felix to keep talking so he could jerk off to his voice. “I don’t think that spell was as harmless as I thought.”
He heard Felix shift. “You think that’s the reason you’re…”
Sylvain bit back a groan as another wave of pain coursed through his body. “Yeah.”
“What kind of spell makes people horny?” Felix said, dubious.
Sylvain’s head fell back against the wall. “Some mages must have nothing better to do than to figure out new ways to torture people,” he muttered. Even though he didn’t want to, he held his cock again, needing to satisfy the insatiable urge that was possessing his body.
Once again, the wet slick sound of Sylvain touching himself filled the silence. Sylvain felt a prickle on his neck, cracking an eye open and turning his head slightly toward Felix’s corner of the shack.
Felix was watching him. His eyes met his, just for half a moment, before his gaze lowered, his expression one of detached interest.
Sylvain faced forward again. The awkwardness of the situation had clearly long passed. He slowed his hand, circling his palm around the head of his cock. Sylvain was hardly shy about his body and there was something thrilling about having an audience; he could certainly put on a show, anything to keep his mind off the pain. Tilting his hips a little, he twisted his hand around his cock, drew it lower to fondle his aching balls before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Pumping his hand again, Sylvain shivered as he imagined Felix bare, gripping his soft thighs as he sucked him off, imagined Felix watching him as he did. Sylvain’s back arched off the wall, his mouth falling open as he came again with a stilted moan, the pleasure as quick as a spark before it faded cold and twisted back into pain. He chanced another look at Felix; Felix’s eyes flitted back to his again, a hint of heat simmering beneath the sharp amber before he turned away.
“You really are shameless,” Felix muttered, spoken more as an observation than an insult.
Sylvain fell back against the wall and chuckled. “I’ll ask the Goddess for forgiveness if I make it back with my dick intact,” he mumbled. He tugged at the collar of his sweat-damp shirt, still trying vainly to fend off the stifling heat. As if things couldn’t get worse, he was growing numb to the feeling of his own hand, the fog in his head making it difficult to parse different parts of his own flesh. Panic was slowly rising like bile in his throat; he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing, hoping that might help as he got to work again, stroking his swollen, chafing cock. “Fuck.”
The wind outside picked up, rumbling more like a storm. “Sylvain.”
His heart skipped at the sound of his name coming from Felix’s lips. “Yeah.”
“You don’t look well.”
Sylvain managed a weak laugh. “Masturbating this many times in a row sounds nice in theory but isn’t very enjoyable in practice.”
Felix’s footsteps sounded dull as he drew close, kneeling beside him. Judging by the faint concern on Felix’s face, Sylvain wasn’t looking as sexy as he thought he did. “You’re pale. How bad is it?”
Everything was beginning to sound oddly muted and distorted, as if he were underwater. “It hurts if I don’t touch myself,” Sylvain said, his own voice sounding distant. “Hurts less if I do, though it’s not getting better.”
Felix frowned. Sylvain let out a low groan as Felix tugged off his gloves — even when he wasn’t horrifically horny, watching Felix remove any piece of clothing was torturous — before he sighed with relief as Felix put his hand on his forehead. Felix’s skin was pleasantly cool against his; it felt so nice to feel a hand that wasn’t his own. “You really are running hot,” Felix murmured. He drew his hand down, resting it against Sylvain’s chest. His eyes widened. “Your heart is beating too fast. Has it been like this the whole time?”
Sylvain groaned softly in the absence of Felix’s touch on his bare skin. The pain was suddenly growing worse. “Keep touching me,” he breathed, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
“You can’t stay like this.” Felix’s hand returned, cupping his cheek. “Does this help?”
Sylvain nodded, leaning into Felix’s palm. It wasn’t just the heat that seemed to lessen; he felt calmer with Felix touching him. “I can barely feel my own hand.”
Felix put his other hand on Sylvain’s face, his brow furrowed in thought. Sylvain smiled faintly; Felix was cute when he was worried. Felix glanced down, then met his gaze again. “I suppose that still needs to be taken care of.”
Sylvain swallowed. The thought of Felix touching him was — “You don’t have to.”
The floorboard creaked. Sylvain released a shaky breath as Felix’s fingers brushed against his hand, gently pushing it away to wrap his own around Sylvain’s cock. “Doing the same thing over and over doesn’t seem to be working out for you, ” Felix pointed out, his voice even.
Sylvain shuddered at the first stroke, his boots scraping against the floor as Felix moved his hand, firm and brisk. “You’re very efficient,” he panted, bucking minutely into Felix’s fist.
“No point in drawing it out. I’m guessing I just need to make you come.”
“It’s not very fun like that.”
“It won’t be very fun when you die because you wanted some foreplay,” Felix retorted. “Don’t tell me you’ve been entertaining yourself this entire time.”
Sylvain managed a tired smile. “You know me,” he drawled. “Always trying to make the best of a bad situation.”
Felix cast him a long-suffering look, his focus back on the task at hand. Soft ahs falling from his lips, Sylvain found himself mesmerized by Felix — this close, he could see just how long his eyelashes were, could detect the faint scent of his sweat beneath the leather. Felix’s features sharpened as he grew older, his demeanor more severe, but Sylvain thought it only made him more beautiful. His fingers twitched; he wanted to touch his skin, his hair, to see just how soft it was. He was so distracted that when Felix twisted his hand just so, his thumb swiping over the head, he didn’t expect the orgasm that hit him, his knees locking as he came with a labored moan, spilling over Felix’s fist. Blinking away the stars behind his eyelids, he panted heavily as Felix stroked him through it, as the pain ebbed away, the tension in his body releasing all at once.
“I think that worked,” Sylvain said breathlessly, his body weak with relief.
Felix pulled away, looking around before wiping his hand on Sylvain’s mark. “It wouldn’t be an effective spell if the victim could just get rid of it on their own.”
“Innovative,” Sylvain sighed, pulling on his pants and tugging up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. Perhaps this would make for an amusing story one day, he thought before he froze, shuddering as dread suddenly seized his heart. Within moments, he was doubled over, his body suddenly wracked with a violent, bone-aching pain. His ears rang, his head pounding so hard he felt nauseous — faintly, he could just barely make out Felix’s voice, panicked, through his own anguished cries.
“— here, Sylvain —” The pain dissipated, bringing the world back into sharp focus. “ — I’m here —”
Felix’s hands were cupping his face, his thumbs stroking his cheeks. Sylvain could see the floor again, could hear the wind outside. He groaned. “Spoke too soon,” he muttered sardonically, struggling to catch his breath, his heart thumping hard like a drum.
Felix’s fingernails scraped soothingly against his scalp as he pushed Sylvain’s sweaty hair back. “It wasn’t enough,” Felix said grimly.
Sylvain shook his head. It wasn’t just the pain that returned either. His body shook, burning and restless — his mind was filled with nothing but raw desire, hungry and aimless until he lifted his head, meeting Felix’s gaze. In a moment, every thought was discarded but one — he needed Felix. He needed his touch, needed to feel his body against him, in him.
Like a moth to flame, Sylvain swayed toward him, stopping himself just short with what remained of his self-control, Felix’s eyes wide with surprise and confusion. “Need you,” Sylvain groaned, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, trying not to reach for Felix himself, to push him down and take what he needed from him the way his instincts were screaming for him to do. “Fuck — I can’t take it —”
"Need what?" Felix said urgently. "What do you need me to do?"
Sylvain met his gaze, breathing heavily. "Need you to fuck me."
He must have looked pathetic, so desperate that Felix didn’t hesitate to start taking off Sylvain’s leg armor, tossing each piece carelessly aside. Sylvain managed to kick his pants and underwear off himself as Felix undressed quickly, yanking off his cloak before working at the buckles on his coat. The last of his modesty long gone, he spread his legs to let Felix fit himself in between, inhaling sharply as Felix brushed a finger against his hole, the tip of it pressed against him. “It’s going to hurt."
“Better than dying,” Sylvain managed to pant out.
Felix seemed to agree, taking two fingers into his mouth. A string of saliva clung to his fingers as he pulled them out, reaching back down between Sylvain’s legs. “Relax,” was all he said before he slowly sunk a finger in, his other hand running down Sylvain’s tense stomach, squeezing the meat of his inner thigh. Teeth clenched as he braced against the sting of it, Sylvain breathed as steadily as he could, the pain held at bay by Felix’s touch, as Felix slipped in the second finger, spreading him open.
“Hurry,” Sylvain whispered, uncertain if the heat was worsening because of the spell or because Felix’s fingers were inside him.
“I won’t be able to get myself in if I don’t prepare you.” Still, Felix worked quickly; he pushed down his pants, swiping his hand through the come on Sylvain’s stomach before wrapping it around his own cock.
Sylvain’s face burned even hotter. “Felix,” he breathed, scandalized and even more aroused than he thought humanly possible.
Felix glanced at him as he spread it around his cock. “That’s all the foreplay you’re getting.” Once he was hard, Felix sat back, directing Sylvain to sit up. “It’ll be easier on you like this,” he explained as he pulled Sylvain over his lap. The head of Felix’s cock rubbed against his hole, teasing the rim. “You can move when you’re ready.”
In the back of Sylvain’s mind, he wished he could take the time to look at Felix. Unable to wait any longer, Sylvain held onto Felix’s shoulders and sat down firmly in his lap, the searing drag of Felix’s cock wrenching moans from both of their throats. “Shit, that feels amazing,” Sylvain groaned, his mind unable to tell the difference between the new, thrilling pleasure of Felix’s cock stretching him open and the pain. He shifted onto his knees and circled his hips, adjusting to the fullness, as Felix breathed heavily against his neck. “Fuck me already.”
Sylvain let out a shocked groan, clenching even tighter as Felix’s teeth dug into his shoulder when he tried to ride him. “Wait,” Felix snarled, rolling his hips slowly. Sylvain shook as Felix’s cock brushed up against a spot inside him, his cock twitching. Felix’s hands were tight on his hips as he held him still. “There?”
“More,” Sylvain begged, moaning happily as Felix obeyed, hitting that spot again and again, giving him the pleasure he desperately needed. Any propriety he had was gone; he wanted Felix to ruin him, to fuck him in this ratty shack for the rest of his life. “Felix — harder. Wanna feel you —”
“You really are insatiable,” Felix murmured lowly as he thrust up into him. Felix licked at the bite, already pleasantly sore. Sylvain let out a breathy laugh, his hand fisting in Felix’s ponytail before tugging hard; Felix gave him another bite for his trouble. “Fuck — behave.”
“Mm, don’t wanna,” Sylvain said, words slurred. He felt like he was in a daze. He didn’t know what was pain, what was pleasure anymore — he wanted Felix, whatever he would give him. He ground down, trying to get Felix even deeper. “Like it when you’re rough."
“I’ll be as rough as you want me to be another time,” Felix promised breathlessly. “Just hurry up and come.”
Sylvain smiled before he winced, his head throbbing as he groaned in pain. “Oh, saints,” he uttered. His hips twitched weakly as fatigue set in fast, his energy draining from his body. “I really think I’m going to die.”
Felix’s hand gripped the back of his neck, pushing his forehead against his, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Don’t think about that,” he ground out, moving faster.
The pain warred with the pleasure in his body. Felix was his touchstone, the one thing he could focus on. He was so beautiful and he was inside him, as close as he would ever be. If he did die, Sylvain thought, morbidly, serenely, this would be his last chance. Sylvain leaned in, his nose bumping against Felix’s cheek before he kissed him — Felix’s lips were dry and chapped, but his tongue was soft and warm against his. He sighed against his lips; it felt even better than his touch, better than his cock inside him. "Want you to know," he mumbled, light-headed as he looked into Felix’s wide, bright eyes, the only words he managed to say before he lost his breath again.
He fell back on the floor, the fall cushioned by Felix’s cloak, as Felix easily folded him over and pushed back into him, his hips snapping against him. He gasped as Felix fucked him hard, his hands like vices against his thighs to hold him in place against the force of his thrusts. Sylvain couldn’t see Felix’s face, could only lie there and take it, moaning, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, feeling so many sensations at once he didn't know what he was feeling at all.
“I’m definitely,” Sylvain gasped, every breath punched out of him every time Felix thrust into him, “gonna die.”
Felix’s fingers dug into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. “You can die when I say you can die,” Felix growled.
Sylvain didn’t have any time to unpack that as he let out one final moan, his limbs locking as his orgasm shook through his entire body, hitting as hard as the spell had. Felix’s hand curled around him, helping him finish as he kept fucking him, as Sylvain came messily, come welling out of his cock like a spring. He whimpered as he felt Felix come inside him, as he felt a few warm drops land on his thighs when Felix pulled out.
“Sylvain." Felix's hand was on his cheek. "Sylvain, did that work?”
The pain slowly fading for good, his vision returning to normal, Sylvain looked up at him, sex-dumb, taking in Felix’s flushed, sweaty state, his hair falling loose from his ponytail, his eyes still focused on nothing but him.
“I think so,” Sylvain breathed. He glanced down; he was still hard, though he didn’t know if it was the spell lingering or just his own arousal. Perhaps this was to be his third sexual awakening. “Maybe we should do it again, just in case.”
Felix met his gaze, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Just in case,” he agreed.