lancesalot (
lancesalot) wrote2021-01-30 04:11 pm
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Despite finding his resolve, Dimitri still finds himself wide awake and restless. There's a million and one things racing around his head in an endless circuit, and the sheets feel strange against him. He's admittedly still uncomfortable sleeping without the armor on. He'd gotten so used to it, normal clothes make him feel naked. Vulnerable. The touch of the cool stone floor under his bare feet is a relief, a promise that he won't just simply lay here and let his thoughts sweep him out to see.
He lights the candle and hooks his finger into the holder, slipping out into the drafty halls of the monastery.
Originally, wandering without intent, but he doesn't surprise himself when he finds himself standing outside Byleth's door. He doesn't knock. He wants to, but the professor has enough to worry about, and Dimitri has already burdened him with so much of his own turmoil.
But maybe he's also awake? He was a night owl, as he remembers. No- he's probably exhausted. Even if he is awake, there's no need to trouble him with this pointless visit. What is he even here for anyways? He has nothing useful to say, nothing that he hasn't already anyways. The simple fact is that seeing Byleth's face, hearing his voice, just being around him, is soothing.
So Dimitri stands at his door for the next ten minutes or so, wrestling with himself. Silently.
Right. No, he should leave. He's not a child. He's startled when a drip of hot wax hits his hand, spilled from the holder that he was absentmindedly tilting. It doesn't hurt terribly, but it does jar him enough to drop it with a loud TINK!. Scrambling to pick it up, and now balking at the thought of waking the professor like this, as if he just now realized how weird it was to be standing outside someones door for ten minutes, silently.
He lights the candle and hooks his finger into the holder, slipping out into the drafty halls of the monastery.
Originally, wandering without intent, but he doesn't surprise himself when he finds himself standing outside Byleth's door. He doesn't knock. He wants to, but the professor has enough to worry about, and Dimitri has already burdened him with so much of his own turmoil.
But maybe he's also awake? He was a night owl, as he remembers. No- he's probably exhausted. Even if he is awake, there's no need to trouble him with this pointless visit. What is he even here for anyways? He has nothing useful to say, nothing that he hasn't already anyways. The simple fact is that seeing Byleth's face, hearing his voice, just being around him, is soothing.
So Dimitri stands at his door for the next ten minutes or so, wrestling with himself. Silently.
Right. No, he should leave. He's not a child. He's startled when a drip of hot wax hits his hand, spilled from the holder that he was absentmindedly tilting. It doesn't hurt terribly, but it does jar him enough to drop it with a loud TINK!. Scrambling to pick it up, and now balking at the thought of waking the professor like this, as if he just now realized how weird it was to be standing outside someones door for ten minutes, silently.

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"Sylvain didn't give you too hard of a time, did he?"
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He feels like he's still riding on the euphoria. Naturally that mean's he's been silently, intensely looking at the professor as they eat. He catches himself though and clears his throat.
"I am afraid though, that people may talk. I hope it does not cause you any trouble. I hope that-" Well. That's a conversation perhaps better had in private. What does he hope for? A relationship? He'd been so lost in his feelings he didn't stop to consider where this would go...
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"...Though I wouldn't mind talking about this with you when it's just us. If that's okay."
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"Yes, I agree. Perhaps... after today's war meeting, we can steal away and find somewhere private to discuss what we will do with-" A vague gesture, "This."
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A tiny smile plays on Byleth's lips and he nods. "I'd like that." If only to weed out the uncertainty. Even if Dimitri decides to abruptly back out, he couldn't blame him, even if...
Oh. The idea. It actually makes him feel strangely horrible. His chest heavy, aching. That-- that must be heartbreak. He truly hopes it doesn't come to that.
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"Perhaps my room would be acceptable? Or... somewhere outside the monastery even."
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"Outside of the monastery might be too dangerous," he murmurs reluctantly, even if that would give them a sense of privacy that even the monastery can't offer them. But he doesn't want to risk any possible encounters with any lingering Empire scouts.
"Your room is fine. I'll come up a little later than you so I don't draw attention."
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"All right. I'll see you then. Thank you again for breakfast."
The war meeting proves difficult to get through, though he has the sense to focus on what needs to be done, what is important, in the idle in-between moments, he allows his eyes to drift toward the professor next to him. He feels like a damned school boy again, excited to meet in secret to- to what, hold hands? Kiss? They need to discuss what this means to both of them. The excitement in his belly roils with anxiety as well. He has never feared rejection so much.
When the meeting finally ends, he beelines it for his quarters. Even though Byleth won't be there for a while yet. Sitting, waiting, bouncing his knee so much it rattles his whole desk. Damn it. He stands, trying to busy himself, tidy his quarters, adjust his papers several times before giving up and pacing like a caged animal.
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In any case, he slips through the halls, careful as he goes up the stairs to the second floor dormitory. He doesn't think anyone has noticed, but then it's hard to say; he isn't as sneaky as some of the others.
But more importantly, he arrives at Dimitri's door, giving a light knock.
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"Professor- Byleth- please. Come in." He says stiffly. As soon as the door is closed though, Byleth is pushed against it and Dimitri's lips are on his again, a little more hungrily than the last times. Having to sit all day and do nothing had been frustrating. Pressing himself against him again like this...
He finally breaks away, getting a hold on himself. Right they... need to talk.
"Sorry. I uh- I apologize."
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A bit flushed, but hardly regretful, Byleth says, "I think that was a perfectly fine greeting. But we should... talk, too. All right?"
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"I uh. I just want to begin by saying that I do not regret last night." He makes it sound like they fucked, but all they did was cuddle and kiss. "I know right now is not the ideal time to begin a romance, and our involvement with each other will likely complicate things for the both of us." He clenches his fist.
"Regardless, I cannot deny my feelings for you. Ultimately, I will leave the choice up to you."
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"It's... okay. I feel the same way, but I wasn't going to blame you if you had changed your mind," Byleth says softly. "I know there's a lot happening, and you've been through so much. I would have understood."
Notably, his expression brightens. "Still, here we are. I don't know how long I've felt this way. Maybe when you first made me smile. Either way, I want to be with you and not lose that chance."
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He pauses, his face taking on a slightly bewildered expression.
"May we please kiss more now?"
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Byleth moves from the chair to sit next to Dimitri on the bed, leaning in and letting their foreheads bump.
"Yes. Please."
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"Byleth," he breathes as they break for a moment, "I have desired this for so long, I must be honest. My heart, and body long for yours. Even if I were to become a king, I will always take the knee to you. I desire to serve you." The worn leather of his glove strokes along the professor's neck before he leans in again for another long kiss.
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He rakes his fingers through Dimitri's hair, enjoying how long it is now. It's brushed back as they kiss, tongues tasting eagerly. This is his, something he's never had before. No, Byleth has never been in love before, not until now with the prince.
"Dimitri," he murmurs the other man's name against his lips before pressing back into the kiss. Even if this is all that they do, he would not beg for more.
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His hands move up to stroke across the professor's chest, one moving down to squeeze his hip. It's now that he realizes how badly he's shaking. Is he truly this flustered? True, he's never been with someone quite like this before. His body knows what to do, and certainly what he wants. Again, Byleth has him feeling like a damned school boy.
"Tell me. What do you want me to do..."
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"How much do you want?" he asks softly, knowing that's more important than anything else. How far does Dimitri wish to go in this moment?
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"Just- please." He sounds a little desperate, the faint waver in his voice, "Tell me how to make you feel good."
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"It's okay. I want this too."
He leans up, pressing his lips to Dimitri's forehead. "Help me undress first?"
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Every new inch of skin shown is peppered with adoring affection. It's about the time that Dimitri is kissing his way down from Byleth's naval that he pauses again, hesitantly undoing his belt and tugging his pants down gently, his mouth falling into the cup of the professor's hips. Now he can feel how heavy his own breathing is. He hasn't even undressed himself, but that's hardly a concern right now. Maybe... the professor would do the same for him. He rises again, once Byleth is stripped down to his undergarments, allowing his knee to fall between his legs.
He may not have experience, but he's no prude.
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He breathes in sharply, feeling Dimitri's leg pressing up against him. It isn't a shock to discover he's half-hard already, thrilled to share this with someone he cares so deeply for. Byleth sits up slightly, nuzzling along Dimitri's temple.
"Good," he assures softly, wanting him to feel confident. "Let me undress you?" Byleth could never assume, and it is asked as he waits for permission.
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Trusting.
"The strap in the back is the main anchor." He doesn't feel the need to warn him that the suit of armor is heavy. That much is obvious, and Byleth is one of the only people he knows who hits just about as hard as he does.
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It comes as no surprise, but it's still an unfortunate thing to see: Dimitri's many scars. The past five years... so much of it Byleth still doesn't know, but he would not think to demand of Dimitri. So, he brushes his lips over his prominent chest, lightly kissing in return, wanting to try to express the same kind of love that Dimitri had given him just a moment ago. His hands remain busy, idly unbuckling belts.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs against skin.
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