[ listen, it works?? okay??? like, sylvain loves his horses and he also, not so secretly, loves felix so it should stand to reason that he would use that voice on him if he needs to. and sylvain expects the push, even if it doesn't happen, even if he presses closer again and sylvain has no other choice but to hold onto his hips. loosely now, rather than the tighter grip he had before. he lets felix guide him, as he's always done, takes his cues from him and adjusts himself accordingly.
sylvain sees the paths laid out in front of him. they'll wake up in the morning and felix will say nothing of what happened tonight, steadfastly ignoring the elephant in the room; chalks it up to the alcohol, a minor lapse in control, maybe, and sylvain will have two options: he could carry on as if nothing had happened, greet felix like he usually does and put tonight out of sight and out of mind. bury these emotions like he had for the past five years—his whole life, even. or, he could actually admit what he wants for once, actually communicate it, instead of sabotaging everything before he's had a chance to really try to work for it.
but felix lowers his legs from around his waist to lean back again and sylvain's lashes flutter in the absence of that warmth, something akin to a sigh leaving him as his hands return to the counter. ]
Okay.
[ it takes effort to straighten up again, to pull back entirely and give back that space felix seeks. it's a little bit like torture, he thinks, how felix let him have a taste of what he's always wanted, of what he could have, and now that he's had it he will never be able to forget it. he will be thinking about felix's lips and his taste, every sound he made and the soft tremor of his body beneath his hands, for the rest of his life. like some sort of curse, a sentence, and he's just enough of a masochist to think that maybe this is enough. this is what he deserves, because he has no right to want for more out of felix. it is not his place to wish for it, not if felix doesn't want to give it.
and so, he lifts his head, the same easy smile back in place. ]
I'm gonna wash up, then. [ he reaches out as if to cup felix's cheek but he thinks better of it, runs the back of two knuckles along the curve of it instead. he can't hide the way something in him softens at the way felix presses his lips together, that defensiveness he's become so accustomed to seeing. better to take that out too, before he gives in once more. ] Goodnight, Felix.
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sylvain sees the paths laid out in front of him. they'll wake up in the morning and felix will say nothing of what happened tonight, steadfastly ignoring the elephant in the room; chalks it up to the alcohol, a minor lapse in control, maybe, and sylvain will have two options: he could carry on as if nothing had happened, greet felix like he usually does and put tonight out of sight and out of mind. bury these emotions like he had for the past five years—his whole life, even. or, he could actually admit what he wants for once, actually communicate it, instead of sabotaging everything before he's had a chance to really try to work for it.
but felix lowers his legs from around his waist to lean back again and sylvain's lashes flutter in the absence of that warmth, something akin to a sigh leaving him as his hands return to the counter. ]
Okay.
[ it takes effort to straighten up again, to pull back entirely and give back that space felix seeks. it's a little bit like torture, he thinks, how felix let him have a taste of what he's always wanted, of what he could have, and now that he's had it he will never be able to forget it. he will be thinking about felix's lips and his taste, every sound he made and the soft tremor of his body beneath his hands, for the rest of his life. like some sort of curse, a sentence, and he's just enough of a masochist to think that maybe this is enough. this is what he deserves, because he has no right to want for more out of felix. it is not his place to wish for it, not if felix doesn't want to give it.
and so, he lifts his head, the same easy smile back in place. ]
I'm gonna wash up, then. [ he reaches out as if to cup felix's cheek but he thinks better of it, runs the back of two knuckles along the curve of it instead. he can't hide the way something in him softens at the way felix presses his lips together, that defensiveness he's become so accustomed to seeing. better to take that out too, before he gives in once more. ] Goodnight, Felix.