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ever dutiful

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Linhardt's eyes flutter open as the morning sun dawns upon another day.

Yes, but another day...ever since the war came to a close and he and Byleth could both properly retire (to a certain extent), that's all the days have been. They run together after a while, days spent in leisure; studying crests, napping, going fishing, talking, napping together, cuddling, enjoying one another's company in more ways than was a paradise that Linhardt was appreciating every moment of. It was everything he had sought after with Byleth, and he knew his husband appreciated it as well, despite his ever distant personality. He'd gotten better over the time they were together, however; Linhardt found that Byleth could be surprisingly responsive when the situation wasn't tense, when things were light as air between them. It was cute, really; it helped that the Hero of Fodlan, despite his experiences in the war, hadn't much experience with more romantic things, and he could certainly look like a cute schoolboy if he got particularly embarrassed.

As Linhardt stretches out a little bit, taking in the hues of the morning sunrise, he feels the other side of the bed stir and a grunt from his husband; Linhardt looks over to see Byleth's face scrunched ever so slightly, eyes seeming to shift in their closed state without waking entirely. He must be dreaming, Linhardt surmises. Byleth didn't dream often (or at least, he didn't recall his dreams very well; he never cared for such things too much), but he always did have a distinct look about him while he did. Never quite peaceful, per say, but definitely not quite restless enough to make sleeping together unbearable.

(Of course, there were at least a few times Linhardt felt himself awoken by one of Byleth's arms flying about and thumping into Linhardt's pillow, jolting him out of a dead sleep; he forgave his husband for such transgressions, however.)

Of course, there was a distinct dusting of pink on the man's face as he slept, Linhardt noticed, and that earned some curiosity. What could he be dreaming of? Maybe he was dreaming about something nice; perhaps a date, or something similar? He always got that little shade of pink on his cheeks when they joined one another for tea, after he had rejoined him in those five years he had been gone for. It isn't until the crest scholar's eyes drift southward that he notices that his husbands thoughts may have drifted towards...well, a less than pure end.

Namely, due to erection in his bed pants being all too obviously seen.

Linhardt feels himself flush a bit when his eyes come upon it, though a part of him is at least slightly grateful that they're not under the covers; for one, it's far too warm, but for two, it meant that he could try to repay his husband a little bit for all of the care he'd shown him in the past. His husband truly did love sucking him off, loving the moans and groans Linhardt gave him while he worked his wonderful husband into a high pitched cry and shuddering orgasm, but it was to be reversed.

He waits, however, sinking back into bed and snuggling up to his husband. Linhardt lays his head against Byleth's neck, his arm laying across the former professor's chest in a gentle manner. Just as he's getting comfortable, however, he feels Byleth stir in earnest and sees at least one of his eyes flutter open, before his husband turns his head over to Linhardt with a gentle smile.

"Ah...good morning," Byleth presses a kiss onto Linhardt's head, earning a chuckle from the crest scholar before the former professor speaks up again. "Did you sleep well?"

"It's quite hard not to, when I'm sleeping with someone more comfortable than any pillow..." Linhardt's tone is slightly drowsy, but laced with affection. "But I am well. What of yourself?"

"Likewise." Byleth yawns a touch, his gaze going towards the ever brightening view outside as the sun rises and light filters in. "I do admit...I almost don't wish to get up."

"Well, you don't have to, you know." Linhardt's smile is slight, and his eyes close in content. "I certainly wouldn't mind a few more hours in perfect comfort with you..."

"I'm not quite certain I'll get back to sleep, Lin." Byleth doesn't make to move, though he's definitely not joking; his eyes are open in earnest, and he seems ready and raring to go, even as early as it is. "Nor will I have as pleasant of a time of it."

"Oh...? Did you have a good dream?" Linhardt speaks almost knowingly, though curiosity laces his tone. He doesn't want to embarrass Byleth any, but he does admit that he's eager; he simply hopes his husband is as well.

Byleth's head turns away for a moment, and he feels Linhardt's head lift up a bit in response. "Yes, but...I'm afraid I cannot remember much."

"You know, you don't need to hide anything from me."

"Hide?" Byleth turns back to Linhardt when he says that, expression knitting a bit in confusion. What was he talking about? And why did his tone feel so coy...? "What would I need to hide?"

One of Linhardt's hands comes in front of his face in a contemplative expression, though it's offset by the light smile on his face. "A particularly strong case of morning wood, perhaps...?"

...Oh. Oh.

Byleth feels his cheeks start to heat in earnest, going a deep shade of scarlet as he props himself up to check himself over--and surely, enough, there it is, staring him right in the face. Honestly, it was rather startling to see a boner staring him right in the goddamn face like that, but everything suddenly made sense as Byleth looks back at Linhardt, shaking his head as some semblance of shame enters his tone.. "I...forgive me, I did not quite...mean for this to happen..."

"It really is no trouble." Linhardt scooches himself over towards Byleth, taking one of the man's hands in both of his own. "It was simply something I observed. Whether or not you meant it doesn't matter, but..."


"Well..." Linhardt's gaze drifts towards his husband's pants, a small glimmer of something--curiosity, or perhaps hunger. Perhaps even both. "I quite desire to help you with that, if you will allow me."

Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised; Linhardt has always been eager when he has his mind set on testing something new. And considering how much Byleth preferred to be the giver in most situations, Linhardt didn't have much of a chance to do the same, though he had expressed curiosity towards it in the past. Byleth wasn't usually this needy, but... "...I shall. I would most prefer it, all be told." Byleth says that much with a bit more ease than the nervous, shameful tone he had taken earlier.

"Of course, Byleth. I haven't exactly had the chance to study you in this particular manner, but..." Linhardt seems to think for a moment, before grabbing the pillow he had been sleeping on and moving around to place it on top of Byleth's. "Lay yourself down, won't you? I do believe you should be able to prop yourself up, now...ah, and spread your legs, just a touch."

Byleth does as instructed, and he watches Linhardt get between his legs and begin to unbutton his nightclothes; he goes to gently run a hand through his husband's hair as he works, feeling his body starting to shudder in anticipation. It isn't long before his cock is freed from both his nightclothes and his undergarments, practically twitching. Byleth has to suck in a breath to keep himself level, as Linhardt observes his twitching member with the same scrutiny he'd use for his crest research. Somehow, it's exactly like how he'd expect Linhardt to react to this; carefully, and in a scholarly manner that suited him and his style. Byleth had always dreamed of such a thing, after all...

And well, it helped that Linhardt was helping to fulfill that dream. Just as Byleth helped him fulfill his own, in many ways.

"How would you like me to assist you?" Linhardt looks to Byleth after observing him for a little while, tilting his head with some curiosity as one of his hands moves towards his twitching dick and grazes it with his fingers, lightly, so lightly, enough that it made Byleth twitch from the bare contact and made him hiss--gods, he was anticipating this so much, wasn't he?

"I'd...rather like to see how...strong your hands are. If you are amendable."

Linhardt smiles when he receives the order, nodding his head in response. "Oh, that will prove no trouble at all for me."

As if on cue, Byleth feels his husband's hand wrap firmly around his shaft and he feels himself whine from the contact--oh, yes, that's perfect. Byleth's head throws itself back some as he tries to adjust, but Linhardt's not letting him have it easily. He feels his husband's hand start to pump him, eliciting moans and quite possibly the most feelings that Byleth has ever expressed in a long time. How could he not? Every stroke sent a spark through him, and it felt incredible. He forces his eyes open, seeing a surprised look on Linhardt's face as he worked Byleth up, perhaps almost dumbfounded; he wondered inwardly if this was proving embarrassing for the man. Linhardt's sight was focused right on his cock, likely committing what he saw to memory...

Byleth tries to muffle himself some with one of his hands, but Linhardt notices almost immediately and stops, using his free hand to push Byleth's hand back down onto his stomach. "No. No..." Linhardt seems...a little flushed, perhaps breathing a bit heavily himself--a thing Byleth might have to fix after his husband is finished with him, he notes. "Please, keep...keep making those noises. I find them most delightful..."

"A-as..." Oh, gods, was he stuttering? Byleth could hardly believe himself, but he'd be willing to cooperate for that sweet release. "As you wish. Just...please, more."

"Yes, of course."

Byleth watches the crest scholar's hand drift right back onto his aching cock, picking up the pace and earning far sharper cries out of Byleth. Oh, yes, that was it. Byleth's breath heaved, each labored breath more filled with pure need, pure want than the last as he felt himself starting to sink into the pillows that were meant to prop him up; it only got worse as it went on, his breath starting to hitch and stop itself short as the pressure built up within him, causing him to bodily twitch and moan out for his husband, the chorus of "Lin, Lin, Lin" practically a song in it's own right to his husband's ears. Byleth was beyond the point of caring about shame; the whole world could hear his harried voice crying out and he wouldn't care. All he wanted to do was to come, to finally release all of that pent up pleasure right into the open--

Linhardt's hand was sticky with all of the light spurts of cum that had been flowing their way down, and he could tell his husband was close, so close to releasing everything. He had to admit, he was beginning to feel his own pants tighten at the sight, his face a bright shade of crimson as he heard every little noise come out of Byleth's mouth, hitting high notes he didn't think were possible. "Byleth--Byleth, please come, please let me see you--"

That was all Byleth needed to finally reach the peak, crying out all at once, "Lin, Lin, Lin--!!"

Byleth finally feels himself come all at once, body arching and a sharp cry signaling his end as it squirts out--he doesn't even feel his husband's hand try to stop it from likely getting everywhere, he simply feels him pump until Byleth finally sags into the pillows and his vision is full of stars, and he feels like he's in a daze. It takes him some time to gather his breathing and his bearings, and when he does, he feels Linhardt's unstained hand running through his hair in a gentle motion, and Byleth looks over at him with a half-lidded, practically dreamy expression.

"I love you, Lin...I love much..."

Linhardt looks over at his husband, so blissfully coming down off of his high that it was almost sweet to see. "I love you too, Byleth. Thank you for allowing me to assist you."

Sure, they'd both need to clean up; Linhardt's bedclothes had taken the brunt of his husband's release, and Byleth's own clothes weren't doing much better in terms of that. But that was something for later.

For now, they simply had their bliss.