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“I just had to come over and tell you how impressed I am by that essay you’re writing. I saw part of it over your shoulder, and wow!” Sylvain leaned against the table, smiling down at the girl he was speaking to. “But haven’t you been working too hard? What do you say we take a break together?”
“Um, thanks,” she said, peering at him in confusion and apparently totally uncharmed, “but I’m kind of in the middle of this.” And with that, she looked back down at her paper, completely shutting Sylvain out.
He sat there for a moment longer, then shrugged and slid off the table. Lorenz waited until he’d gotten a fair distance away before approaching.
“You really are terrible at that,” he said, sniffing. “You really think interrupting people is going to endear them to you?”
Sylvain shrugged. “Sometimes people really do need a break. Besides, you’re no better. I saw that girl in the dining hall shoot you down.”
Lorenz held back a wince. He’d hoped no one had seen that, but of course he could never be that lucky. But Sylvain, of all people, who always seemed to catch him at his worst…
“You could take a few pointers from me,” he said, instead of thinking about that. “I treat the women I speak to with respect.”
“And it doesn’t really get you anywhere, does it?” Sylvain said.
“Further than you,” Lorenz said, turning up his nose.
“Yeah?” Sylvain grinned and leaned against the wall, for all appearances casual and friendly. Lorenz knew he had to be plotting something, but what? “You want to prove it?”
Lorenz narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“I pick someone for you to flirt with, you pick someone for me. Whichever of us gets a date first wins. Easy.”
There was something in Sylvain’s smile that made Lorenz think he was expecting Lorenz to refuse, and so of course there was nothing he could say except: “Very well, then.” He looked out over the classrooms, the students clustered at tables and on benches outside in the sun. There were plenty of suitable women, though Lorenz imagined Sylvain would try to choose someone difficult. Regardless, he had confidence in himself. “Who is your choice?”
Sylvain made a soft hmm noise under his breath, and then he smiled. Lorenz did not like that smile at all.
“That one,” he said, and pointed.
Lorenz looked, confused. There weren’t any girls in that direction. In fact, there was only Claude, tucked on a bench by himself, nose intently in a book. Only Claude, and not one single other living creature.
Absolutely not, Lorenz almost said, an instinctive response, straight from his gut. But he caught it right before the words came out, and he swallowed hard, and he considered.
Surely Sylvain meant for him to refuse. Or at least he meant for it to be an impossible task - but as much as Lorenz balked from the idea of wooing Claude, of all people, he had to admit that Claude’s easygoing nature might make it simple. Though he never seemed able to predict what Claude would do, he could easily imagine Claude agreeing to a date with no trouble at all.
He tried very hard not to think about what ideas Claude might get from such a request. That would be something to deal with when he happened, he decided.
And then he got another idea, a - quite frankly - brilliant one, and he smiled a tight-lipped smile at Sylvain. “Very well, then. I agree.”
There was a brief look of surprise that flashed across Sylvain’s face, and then he grinned. “Wow, that was fast. Maybe I had the wrong idea about your relationship with that guy.”
“Absolutely not,” Lorenz said, offended.
“If you say so,” said Sylvain, smirking in a way that really got under Lorenz’s skin. “Who am I going after then? I should warn you, a lot of the girls here have already gone out with me. I’m sure they’d be happy to say yes again.”
Considering the rumors Lorenz had heard about Sylvain, he rather doubted that. But regardless, he had a far better idea. “Oh, that’s easy. In order to win this contest of charm, you will have to take Felix Fraldarius on a date.”
The smile dropped from Sylvain’s face in an instant. “Uh. You want me to die?”
“Are you refusing?” Lorenz said, with a smirk of his own this time. “Then I’ll consider it my victory.”
“No, no,” Sylvain sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure I can do it. I mean, we’re old friends, so… yeah. It’ll be fine.” His assurances sounded rather weak, and Lorenz took that as a sign of his certain triumph. He’d outmaneuvered Sylvain so easily - surely getting Claude to agree to a date would come just as easily.
“It’s decided, then,” he said. “Whichever one of us successfully woos our target first will be the winner, and the other must admit defeat.”
“Get ready to lose,” Sylvain said, his smile a little more sickly than one might expect.
“You are the one who ought to prepare,” Lorenz said. “Until next time, Gautier. Let us see who emerges triumphant.” He turned, summoning up his most regal bearing, and walked off in the direction of his room.
He had some planning to do.
***
Sylvain was probably going to die. He knew that that. Death at the end of Felix’s blade had been a foregone conclusion for some years now, it seemed, and if it was going to be over something this stupid… well, honestly it would probably always have been over something stupid.
Having Lorenz to blame, though, was a new wrinkle.
Sylvain lingered around the edges of the training grounds, watching Felix practice. His sure, swift movements cut a practice dummy into ribbons with little apparent effort.
Soon that dummy would be Sylvain. If he accepted his death now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much.
It was late in the day. The training grounds were empty except for Felix - perfect for what Sylvain intended. He was pretty sure Lorenz hadn’t even talked to Claude yet, so if he could just sweep Felix off his feet…
Sylvain closed his eyes for a moment, welcoming death. Then he strolled onto the training grounds.
“Hey, Felix! What’re you up to?”
Felix barely glanced at him. “Training.” It wasn’t necessary for him add obviously, you idiot. That was clear from his tone of voice. Sylvain ignored it, as he always had, and continued.
“You busy tonight? I was thinking we could go out.” He put on his best charming smile. “Just you and me.”
He’d considered getting Felix to go out with him as a friend, and just telling Lorenz it was a date, but he doubted that would stand up to Lorenz’s inevitable scrutiny. So he had to make it real, he had to make his intentions clear, and -
Well. Taking Felix out on a date, an actual date, with everything that might go along with that… Sylvain couldn’t say that the idea wasn’t appealing.
Felix, with that angry face he made when he was embarrassed, a blush showing up so clearly on his pale skin. Felix, letting Sylvain open a door for him. Felix, his lips opening beneath Sylvain’s.
Felix, stabbing him to death with a dinner knife.
“No,” Felix said, still not looking at him. A flat refusal.
“Aw, come on,” Sylvain said, walking a little closer (though still out of sword range, as he wasn’t a complete idiot). “You’ve been working so hard. I’ll take you somewhere nice, we can relax a little.”
“I’m not interested in your idea of relaxation,” Felix said, finally lowering his sword and turning to Sylvain. He didn’t look happy about it. “And I’m not interested in being your wingman.” He said it like it was some sort of horrible disease.
“You wouldn’t be! When I said it’d be just the two of us, I meant it.” He grinned. “You know, like a date.”
Felix stared at him for a long moment, and despite their years of friendship and Felix’s complete inability to hide his emotions, Sylvain couldn’t read him. Then his eyes narrowed and his hand tightened on his sword’s hilt.
“I’m going to start counting down from ten,” he said, the threat in his voice absolutely deadly. “If you’re still in this room when I hit zero, your fate is on your own head. Ten.”
“Aw, Felix, come on -”
“Nine.”
“It’d just be a couple hours! I promise it would be fun!”
“Eight.”
“I wouldn’t even kiss you. I mean, unless you asked me.”
Felix’s sword came up.
“Three.”
Sylvain ran.
***
The problem, Lorenz thought, was not getting Claude to agree to a date. That should be easy. The problem would be avoiding the dangers that would inevitably come with a date with Claude von Riegan - teasing being foremost among them. He knew he was setting himself up for a certain amount of torment, but in the interests of victory, he would have to suffer through.
He was not expecting to get immediately shot down.
“What?” he said, blinking. “No?”
“That’s what I said,” said Claude, head propped on one hand, book open on the table in front of him. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta pass.” He said it so casually, so easily.
“Is this because of our past disagreements?” Lorenz said, frowning and then forcing himself to even it out. It wouldn’t do to be unpleasant, not when courting someone. If that was what this was. “Because you should know I still find that you have many admirable qualities.”
Claude’s smile, ever-present, brightened into something rather stunning. “Hey, that’s sweet of you to say. I like you too, Lorenz.”
Flustered, Lorenz started to stammer a denial, but stopped himself before it could leave his mouth. Courting. Yes. If that’s what he was doing, it was perfectly fine if Claude thought that Lorenz… liked him. And it was… also fine if Claude liked him in return. Better than fine.
Claude continued, apparently unaware of Lorenz’s deep internal conflict in that moment. “But you know, I don’t really date.” He shrugged, as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer, and returned to his book.
Claude didn’t date? Claude didn’t date? Claude von Riegan, who always had a smile on his face, intelligent and skilled, certainly one of the most handsome and charming men at the academy - and a house leader on top of that?
Impossible.
But Lorenz had to admit, after some thought, that he had never seen or heard of Claude dating someone, or courting them, or even doing anything more than that easy way of speaking he had that seemed to slip right along the edge of flirting.
Claude didn’t date.
This was going to be harder than he’d thought.
***
Sylvain was beginning to think he’d made a huge mistake.
Sure, he’d known from the beginning that convincing Felix to go on a date with him would be difficult. He’d been prepared for that. What he hadn’t anticipated until he started trying was that all his usual tricks and tactics would be totally worthless. Worse than worthless.
He had lines that usually worked with girls, but Felix had heard them all before, usually while standing nearby rolling his eyes and pretending he had nothing to do with Sylvain. He had some higher-level tactics - flowers, chocolates or sweet pastries - but sweets were right out and when he’d tried to bring Felix a bouquet of wildflowers, Felix had stared at it, dead-eyed, and asked, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
His noble birth, his Crest, none of that had ever made a difference in his and Felix’s friendship, so he already knew it wouldn’t make any difference here. And Felix seemed totally immune to his smiles and his artistically disarranged hair.
He’d tried. Sylvain had made a good effort, he’d asked Felix out plenty of times over the past couple weeks, but he’d been shot down every single time.
And… well, things were getting kind of weird, and he was pretty sure it was his fault.
He’d known Felix since they were kids, and though things had changed a lot since then, they were still friends. Even if Felix liked to pretend otherwise. They’d train together, when Sylvain bothered. They’d go to class together. They’d eat together.
That hadn’t been happening as much, and Sylvain wasn’t stupid enough to not realize why. He’d figured this whole thing would be over fast - Felix would roll his eyes and agree to a date, just to get him to shut up, he’d win the whole thing and rub it in Lorenz’s face, and then they’d go back to normal.
But the more Felix shot him down, the weirder things got between them, and Sylvain wasn’t sure what to do about it. He hadn’t wanted to actually piss Felix off, and he hadn’t wanted to make him uncomfortable enough to jeopardize their relationship. Goddess, this wasn’t even the first time he’d flirted with Felix, it was just… well, the most persistent he’d ever been.
The only saving grace was that he knew Lorenz wasn’t getting anywhere, either. But Sylvain was starting to think this whole thing might not be worth it.
And then Dimitri asked him if everything was okay between the two of them, and Sylvain knew - if he’d felt the need to step in, despite Felix’s enduring disdain - that it had gone too far.
He’d take the loss, if it meant not losing Felix.
***
Lorenz was having as little luck as Sylvain, and the only saving grace of it all was that they were both turning out to be equally terrible at this.
Well. Perhaps not the only one.
After Claude’s first refusal, Lorenz had known that it would not be easy. He had not, however, realized that it would simultaneously be impossible and… oddly pleasant.
None of his tactics worked, of course. That became obvious very quickly, though individually things always seemed to go well. His compliments made Claude laugh, lips curled into something that was probably a real smile, head thrown back - but he’d still said no when Lorenz asked him to dinner. Lorenz had started sitting near him in class, and Claude seemed happy enough to allow it, but would then disappear off to his own schemes afterward instead of staying to talk.
He’d let Lorenz carry a stack of books from the library to his room once, which in retrospect Lorenz realized was probably one of the best chances he’d had. But at the time, he’d completely forgotten about asking Claude out, too caught up in their spirited discussion about an obscure bit of Alliance history.
Lorenz was getting nowhere in his attempts to court Claude, but though he would never have admitted it, he was… strangely, unexpectedly, disturbingly enjoying it.
Despite his sometimes uncouth mannerisms and his far-too-casual attitude, Claude was pleasant to spend time around. He was sharp, never without a comment or a clever observation, and though he teased Lorenz rather mercilessly at times, it never quite felt mean-spirited. Lorenz had, of course, had to spend plenty of time with Claude before - in class, on missions, during training. But he’d made a point of not hanging out, because, well, Lorenz simply did not ‘hang out’. Particularly not with someone as carefree as Claude, who rarely acted like a noble at all and seemed to have little respect for his own position.
Now that Lorenz was spending time around him, though, he found it… refreshing. Claude never seemed to expect things of him, never let Lorenz get under his skin, but still always somehow seemed to challenge him to be better.
It was odd. Uncomfortable, sometimes.
But not unpleasant.
He didn’t know what to make of it, really. All he knew was that it had become eerily easy to compose courting poetry about Claude’s eyes (green as the leaves in midsummer) and eerily difficult to actually deliver it (because surely Claude would laugh). This whole competition was going nowhere fast.
And the worst part was realizing that the prospect of that had begun to be disappointing.
***
Just when Sylvain had resolved to talk to Felix, apologize, make things right somehow… he couldn’t be found anywhere.
It was on purpose. It had to be. It wasn’t as if there were that many places in the monastery that Felix went. Some days Sylvain was half-certain Felix never stepped foot in a room without swords in it, so rare was it to find him outside the training grounds.
But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the dining hall. He wasn’t in their classroom.
If things had gotten to the point of Felix actually, genuinely avoiding Sylvain, they’d gone way too far. Luckily, Sylvain had a secret weapon: he knew where Felix slept.
Technically everyone did, given their room assignments, so it wasn’t exactly the most secret of secret weapons. Still, in this case it would do, because unless Felix was planning on sleeping outside (or in someone else’s room, a prospect that Sylvain immediately banished from his thoughts) he’d have to come back to his room eventually.
So he waited in his own room, just down the hall, and listened for the soft sound of Felix’s footsteps. He waited until the moment he heard Felix’s door open, and then stepped outside, catching that door just before it closed. Smooth.
“Hey, Felix,” he said with a grin. “I was looking for you.”
Felix froze in the act of trying to pull his door shut behind him, then turned and bristled in one move, just like a cat. Sylvain had to admire that.
“I’m going to bed,” Felix said with a scowl. “Whatever it is, you can tell me tomorrow.”
“I kinda think you’re still gonna be avoiding me tomorrow,” Sylvain, and stepped forward. Felix stepped back, instinctively, and that was all it took - Sylvain was inside Felix’s room now, and he didn’t intend to leave before they’d talked. “What’s going on?”
Felix let Sylvain swing the door shut behind him, looking at him like he was a complete idiot, which seemed fair. Then Sylvain watched a strange look cross his face, and with what seemed like an effort, Felix said, “Nothing.”
Sylvain paused. He was starting to feel the inkling of a suspicion, a feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, though the source was obvious: they both knew it wasn’t nothing.
“Come on, Felix,” he said, taking a step closer, knowing it could be dangerous. “What was it? Did I go too far with the flowers? I figured they’d be nice. Matched your eyes.” They had. He’d taken his time finding them, more effort than he usually put into that kind of thing despite knowing that Felix wasn’t going to appreciate it.
“I don’t want your stupid flowers,” Felix said, his anger familiar and somehow comforting. “And I don’t want to go on a pointless date with you, either, so don’t even think of asking again.”
“It’d be fun, though,” Sylvain said, and he grinned, and Felix exploded.
“You know, I knew you were a degenerate, but this is a new low for you. If you really want to play stupid games just so you can figure out whether you or Lorenz is the bigger idiot, that’s your decision - but leave me out of it.” He stalked away from Sylvain, across the small room, before turning to face him again, furious. “The way you treat the women here is bad enough. I’m not letting you treat me that way.”
“Wait,” Sylvain said, and things were beginning to make some kind of sense, “you knew?”
Felix crossed his arms, and for a moment there was a hint of something besides anger on his face. “Practically from the beginning. Claude told me. He said we should let you two make fools of yourselves for awhile before putting a stop to things - but I’m sick of seeing you act like even more of an idiot than usual.”
How Claude had figured it out was - actually not that much of a mystery, Sylvain thought with a sinking feeling. They hadn’t been particularly careful when talking about it, and despite Claude’s carefree act, Sylvain knew he was probably the smartest person in the monastery at any given time.
Damn. Picking Claude had been a miscalculation from the start. He should’ve picked… Hilda, maybe. Someone less likely to decide to mess with them just for fun. Okay, not Hilda, then.
But if Felix had known the whole time…
Sylvain really had made a fool of himself.
“If you knew,” he said, smiling, trying to salvage this, “you should’ve said yes! I would’ve won and it’d all be over.”
Felix snorted. “As if I’d give you that kind of satisfaction.”
“Aw, Felix,” Sylvain said, “I would’ve taken you on a really nice date, though.”
Anger flickered across Felix’s face again. “You treated me like one of your girls. I can’t believe you’re enough of an idiot to think that would work on me. It’s insulting. You gave me flowers.”
“I tried to give you flowers,” Sylvain said. “You wouldn’t take them. You’re right, that was pretty dumb of me. I should have given you a sword.”
Felix rolled his eyes. “Whatever. It’s over now. You’re never gonna win, and Lorenz is dreaming if he thinks Claude isn’t running him in circles. Get out of my room, I’m tired of your face.”
Sylvain stayed where he was. Felix seemed - less furious than Sylvain might have expected. It still felt like there was something off, something wrong. Part of him wanted to leave, wanted to take the out Felix had offered before he really said the wrong thing and everything went up in flames. The rest of him knew he couldn’t. Whatever damage had been done was entirely his fault.
“Hey, Felix,” he said, and waited until Felix looked at him again. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”
Felix looked confused, then angry. His emotions always ended up so clear, even when he tried to cover them with anger - or maybe it was just that Sylvain knew him well enough to read him. “I don’t need your apology.”
“I need to apologize, though,” Sylvain said. “You’ve been avoiding me for the last few days.”
“I couldn’t take any more of the stupid flirting,” Felix muttered.
“I was gonna call it off anyway,” Sylvain said, and Felix looked at him. “You were avoiding me, and I knew I messed up. As satisfying as beating Lorenz would be, it’s not worth losing you over it.”
Felix huffed, turned away. He was trying - and succeeding - to look angry, but Sylvain thought he might, just a little, be embarrassed.
“I missed eating lunch together,” Sylvain said, “and I missed you yelling at me about skipping practice. I missed coming in here at night when I can’t sleep and keeping you up talking to me, even though I know you hate it.” He shrugged. “I just missed you, Felix.”
He reached out then, daring, and to his surprise Felix let Sylvain take his hand. He didn’t quite look at Sylvain, not yet, but he allowed that much. Felix’s hand was slim but strong, callused where he held his sword. He’d been a cute kid, but these days - well, if Sylvain were being honest, it wasn’t the first time he’d thought to himself that Felix had grown from a cute kid into a frankly beautiful man.
He really had been an idiot. Not just about the bet with Lorenz, either.
“I meant it when I said you were the most gorgeous thing in this monastery, though,” he said with a smile - a real smile, knowing Felix would be able to tell. He’d said that early on, and Felix had cursed at him and stomped away. Sylvain was half-expecting the same response, but this time Felix just scowled, finally looking at him again.
He scowled, and he flushed, and Sylvain felt a surge of something like hope.
“I’m not going on a date with you,” Felix said flatly, but he could not hide the red of his cheeks.
“I’m not asking for a date,” Sylvain said, and then, taking his life in his hands, he continued. “Maybe just a kiss?”
Felix got redder, and scowled more, but he didn’t pull his hand away. “I’m not kissing you, either.” He cleared his throat, looked away. “Yet.”
Sylvain perked up.
“Come to practice tomorrow, and train with me, and - we’ll see.” Felix was really embarrassed now, which was evident in the way he dropped Sylvain’s hand. “Now get out of my room.”
There was no doubt that if Sylvain showed up, Felix would work him to the bone, and probably leave him with at least a few bruises. He’d be scowled at and snapped at and bristled at. He’d be exhausted and would lose any chance he had to flirt with the girls he’d been ignoring for the last few weeks.
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.
“See you tomorrow,” he said, and winked at Felix before slipping out the door. Before he slept, he’d need to tell Lorenz it was all over.
***
It was not difficult to find Claude. Perhaps, Lorenz thought through his whirling emotions, he wanted to be found. He certainly seemed capable of disappearing when he wished, and this time - this time he was sitting in the otherwise empty classroom, a map and a stack of books in front of him.
Lorenz stalked in. It was late to be in the classroom, most students already wandering off to spend their free time before bed doing something more fun. That was why he’d thought to find Claude in there - despite everything Claude pretended to be, Lorenz had come to realize that for him, poring over maps was fun.
And the fact that he knew that well now, that he took it as a matter of course… he didn’t know what to think of it.
“Lorenz,” Claude said, looking up from his work with a smile. “You’re out late. Need some company?”
The smile was a distraction. The words were a distraction. Lorenz was not going to allow himself to be distracted.
“How long have you known?” He drew himself up to his full height. It was unnecessary since Claude was sitting, but it felt good anyway. However, Claude seemed unaffected - which wasn’t a surprise, but was still a bit annoying.
More annoying was the way he didn’t even bother to pretend he didn’t know what Lorenz was talking about. He just turned on his seat to face Lorenz, leaning back against the table behind him, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Since the beginning, pretty much. Felix broke, huh? I knew he wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.”
“Since the beginning?” Lorenz’s mind did the work for him, quickly calculating just how long he’d been making a fool of himself. He was, momentarily, speechless.
“That guy just doesn’t have it in him,” Claude said. “I knew he’d let it slip sooner or later. Too bad - I could’ve kept this going for months.” His green eyes sparkled, and though Lorenz expected some sense of superiority - some pleasure at having gotten the upper hand - he only saw amusement in their depths.
He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be embarrassed. He was a little of both, truthfully, but even Lorenz was aware that he didn’t really have a leg to stand on there. He’d started this game. He’d made Claude a piece in it. Did he really have a right to get angry when it turned out that Claude, as suited his nature, had turned the game around on him?
If anything, he ought to have expected it.
He sighed, not quite unbending but unable to hold on to his supposedly righteous anger. “How did you figure it out?”
“Easy,” Claude said. “You pay attention to the girls here because you think you have to find a wife, like a proper noble, not because you really like them or like flirting with them. And I, obviously, am never going to be a proper nobleman’s wife.” He grinned up at Lorenz. “So there had to be another reason why you were interested. I just asked around a little, it didn’t take long to find someone who’d overheard you talking.”
It made sense, but - somehow it didn’t quite sit right with Lorenz. He looked at Claude for a long moment. “You didn’t consider that I might simply be interested in you?”
Claude’s smile didn’t slip, but the amusement in his eyes faded, his pleased expression turning into the careful mask Lorenz had become so familiar with. “I’m pretty sure I’m not your type. Not up to the Gloucester standards, you know?”
And Lorenz did know. He knew all the times he’d questioned Claude’s decisions, his schemes, his mere existence as the Riegan heir. It had always seemed to slide off Claude, his smiling exterior thick as armor.
But that didn’t make it right. And after all the time they’d spent together, Lorenz was less than startled to realize that he had come to believe that his actions towards Claude in the past might have been unworthy of him.
Unworthy of them both.
“The Gloucester standards,” he said, choosing his words carefully, feeling like he was walking a tightrope, “are no longer my most pressing concern.”
“Oh?” Claude said, and Lorenz caught a hint of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe, and if he could surprise Claude… well. That might be a pleasant thing.
“I have not been fair to you,” he said, allowing himself to look at Claude, really look at him. His easy smiles, his carefree bearing. His sharp green eyes that captured Lorenz so very easily.
He truly had not been fair to Claude. Nor, in fact, had he been fair to his own feelings. He could see that now, and perhaps he should have seen it long ago.
“Hey,” Claude said, and he was still smiling, though Lorenz had done nothing to deserve his smile, “don’t be too hard on yourself. I would’ve stopped you pretty early on if I’d hated it.”
Lorenz supposed that was true, especially if Claude really had known from the beginning, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It didn’t seem that Claude had been laughing at him, at least not overly so. He wasn’t mocking Lorenz now, either, not really, though Lorenz could admit that he would likely deserve it if Claude wished to do that.
For a moment he was still, and then he allowed himself to sink onto the same bench Claude was sitting on, putting them at the same level.
“You didn’t hate it,” he said, and realized as he was saying it that it was a question, an open-ended question that Claude did not have to answer if he didn’t wish. Claude, it seemed, realized that as well. He turned toward Lorenz, and Lorenz realized how close they were to each other. Only inches apart.
“You’re actually pretty cute when you’re courting someone,” Claude said, and Lorenz felt himself flush. “If you’d been serious, things might’ve been different.”
“I was under the impression you didn’t date,” Lorenz said, and once again he felt as if he were on a tightrope, as if he might fall at any moment.
But perhaps - perhaps he wanted to fall.
“Oh,” Claude said, “I made that up,” and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Lorenz’s.
It was a gentle kiss, not demanding, not searching, but even so Lorenz felt as if the world was shifting beneath him. Claude’s lips were chapped but soft, and when he was so close Lorenz could breathe him in, the scent of old books and pine needle tea.
Claude pulled back too soon, and Lorenz wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead he reached out and caught Claude’s chin in his fingers and pulled him back for another kiss, this time longer, sweeter, perfect.
When they parted again Claude was smiling, a real smile, and Lorenz said, “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?”
And Claude laughed, clear as bells and a thousand times more charming.
***
Sylvain saw them near the classrooms days later, Claude lounging on a bench and Lorenz leaning over his shoulder, peering at a book he held. He saw the way Claude looked up at Lorenz, the way Lorenz so briefly touched his shoulder, the way there might have been no one in the entire academy except the two of them.
It was sweet. It would have been so sweet that it was disgusting, except that Sylvain would be lying if he didn’t say he felt exactly the same way.
He met Felix in one of the courtyards outside the dining hall, empty at this time of day, private as anywhere outside their rooms could be. Felix scowled when he saw Sylvain, but Sylvain could read the artifice in it, and Felix allowed himself to be drawn close and kissed. When Sylvain pulled away - only a little, not letting go of Felix yet - the frown line between his brows was gone. He looked - happy.
“Miss me?” Sylvain said, and pressed his lips to the sharp line of Felix’s jaw, breathing him in, acutely appreciative of the fact that Felix was allowing this.
“Absolutely not,” Felix said, but Sylvain could feel the way he unbent, melting against him a little more with every kiss.
“Guess what I saw on the way here?” Sylvain ran his fingers through Felix’s hair, catching the tie holding it back and tugging. Felix pushed him away with another scowl, but not far.
“If it was Claude and Lorenz, everybody already knows,” he said, snatching the tie from Sylvain’s fingers but - notably - not retying his hair. Sylvain had reason to believe that Felix was, in fact, quite fond of Sylvain’s hands in his hair.
“Everybody?” Sylvain said with his best pout. “I’ve been so distracted with you I’m missing out on all the gossip.”
“Don’t blame this on me,” said Felix, and he smiled, a sharp little thing. “They were kissing in the classroom the same day you ended that stupid bet. Sounds like you lost.”
“No,” Sylvain said, “I definitely won,” and he pulled Felix to him, seeing his cheeks flush moments before Sylvain kissed him again, and then again, as many times as Felix would allow.