Work Text:
It may be improper for him to drink his sorrows away, but he figures that since he rarely even indulges in drinking, he’s allowed a little leeway.
That’s not even mentioning the reasons for why he’s drinking, which are as good a reason as any.
Ferdinand isn’t sure how long he sits there, but it gets to a point where he’s pretty damn drunk. Someone sits next to him, he turns his head to the side to see who it is and nods a greeting to Sylvain. It’s uncoordinated, alcohol slowing his movements and jumbling them.
“I’ve never seen you in a tavern before,” Sylvain gestures for a drink before he turns back to Ferdinand. “Relationship problems?”
And that-
He’d always been a crier and any problems he may have had with crying in such a public area are rendered useless with the alcohol in his system. And so the tears well up and start falling down his face. Sylvain looks vaguely uncomfortable, but to his credit he doesn’t get up and leave. That’s nice of him. “That bad, huh?”
“Hubert has decided it’s better for him to focus on his work.” He swirls the liquid in his cup, watching it swirl around.
Sylvain’s eyes go wide and he ducks his head down slightly, trying to catch Ferdinand’s eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“If you think I would joke about something like this, you’ve terribly mistaken who I am.”
“No, no. You’re right. I’m sorry, that was pretty insensitive of me, huh?” Sylvain laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still, the two of you always seemed happy together. Gotta admit, it made me jealous .”
That surprises Ferdinand. He’s not sure what he and Hubert had that would make anyone jealous. “Jealous?”
“Having a beautiful man like you on my arm?” Sylvain winks at him.
Ferdinand’s drunken mind stumbles to catch up and go over what he just heard. “Excuse me?”
Sylvain doesn’t seem bothered. For a man who flirts so much, those comments must just be second nature. “I said you’re beautiful.”
“I…” Ferdinand is in no position to deal with this. He sets his head down gently on the table. Moments pass before a hesitant hand settles over his back.
“What’d he say?” Sylvain asks this time, voice gentler, less flashy.
“I have more important things I have to take care of, Ferdinand. I can’t focus on my work with our… relationship.” The way Hubert says relationship is how someone would notice a stain on their best shirt.
Like it’s a bother, something that they have to get rid of.
“Then why did you even enter one with me in the first place?”
“That doesn’t matter.” Hubert avoids the question. Ferdinand knows well that once Hubert decides to not talk about something, he won’t.
Despite this, Ferdinand still says, “I think I deserve an answer after everything we’ve gone through.”
Hubert averts his eyes at that and fiddles with something at his desk. Ferdinand wishes he could say it was because Hubert was nervous, that he regretted what he was saying. But he knows Hubert. He doesn’t say things he doesn’t believe. He’s always been brutally honest.
Strange to think that was something Ferdinand loved about him.
“You’re right,” Hubert eventually says, “You deserve an answer. You deserve…” He seems to struggle with his words, “You should go.”
“Is that how it is?” He hates that he can feel the tears burning his eyes. Ferdinand doesn’t want him to see him break down because of this.
“Yes.” Hubert says. ‘
He won’t even look at him.
And so Ferdinand leaves.
There’s a crash from Hubert’s office as he left, and it takes everything in him to not turn around and make sure Hubert was okay.
He keeps walking.
“His work was more important in the end.” Is all Ferdinand can say about the whole thing since that’s what it really came down to. Maybe in another life, Hubert would have been able to choose Ferdinand over his job. Or at least realize he could do both.
“His loss.” Sylvain says, giving Ferdinand a… look. “That means you’re available now, right?”
“I…” Logically, Ferdinand knows that spending the night with Sylvain might not be in his best interests. He’s never fancied himself one who needed someone to warm his bed, but it seems he’s being pushed to new limits if he’s even considering it. “I suppose it does.”
Surprise flickers across Sylvain’s face. Ferdinand can’t blame him, he wouldn’t have imagined he would have said that either. It’s quickly replaced with a wide smirk. “You wouldn’t be busy tonight, would you?”
Oh, Goddess. He’s really going to- “No, I am not.”
Sylvain gets up and holds a hand out to him. “Then may I have the pleasure of your company, Ferdinand?” His voice lowers as he speaks.
Ferdinand takes it.
And that’s how his ‘relationship’ with Sylvain started.
---
Being the next Prime Minister, he still meets with both Edelgard and Hubert. While he doesn’t agree with Hubert’s decision to break off a relationship of months for work, they’re leaders for a war that’s deciding the fate of a nation. That always came first, even when they were together.
Even so, his heart aches for Hubert.
He doesn’t think it will ever stop aching for him.
These meetings used to be filled with gentle teasing from Edelgard and familiar banter with Hubert.
Now all that familiarity they had built up is gone, the meetings feeling much like they did in the past, with Ferdinand being a careful outsider from the two of them. It’s not a good feeling.
The old days, back when this time was full of Edelgard sighing every time he and Hubert argued (which was very, very often,) were better than the careful suspension of silence. It was awkward, and that was coming from Ferdinand, who was particularly blessed at speaking, no matter the feeling in the room.
But even this is too much for his social skills. He’s learned how to admit defeat in the past years, and this is a time he must.
Until Hubert breaks the silence.
“Am I too understand you spend your time with Sylvain now?”
Ferdinand wishes Hubert had kept his mouth shut. He watches Edelgard shoot a quick glance at Hubert before looking back at her papers.
“I don’t believe you may inquire into my personal affairs, Minister.” Ferdinand doesn’t bother looking at him, focusing on writing. He doesn’t want to imagine what he would say if he looked at Hubert. “And this isn’t the right place for that conversation anyway, even if I were open to discussing it with you. This is a formal meeting.”
Hubert doesn’t respond.
Ferdinand is glad. His hands have started shaking. It's from anger or adrenaline, maybe both. He’s not entirely sure at this point.
“Ferdinand,” Edelgard’s voice is unusually gentle. Suspiciously gentle. The sharp undertone beneath it speaks volumes. “Take the reports with you and finish them. I need to have a talk with Hubert.”
“Of course.” He gathers his things and scurries from the room.
---
There are a couple things he’s learned about Sylvain. One, he’s extremely cynical. Ferdinand thinks he’s more cynical than Hubert, who just might be the embodiment of everything gloomy in the world.
Not that it bothered him.
If anything, this whole situation has shown Ferdinand he might have a type towards people with a darker outlook on the world.
Goddess, it would horrify his mother.
The second thing he learned about Sylvain is that he’s observant. Intelligent. The problem is that he doesn’t apply himself to his full potential.
And if there’s one thing Ferdinand likes to do its push people into doing their best.
Admittedly, this isn’t always the best option. He’s learning when not to push certain boundaries with people. But he also feels it’s worth noting that he’s been successful before.
All right, it worked on Hubert. He got slightly, barely less murderous.
It still counts.
The point is, in Ferdinand’s humble opinion, Sylvain needs someone to show him what good they can do with their nobility. He’s well aware of Faerghan customs. While he can admit that there is something to admire about how they commit themselves to duty, there is a limit. When it gets to a point of neglecting suffering, dismissing those who have given their lives for something, it’s unhealthy.
Combining the family issues Ferdinand has picked up from Sylvain, he can only imagine this sort of environment has only made his viewpoint worse.
And naturally, being the man Ferdinand is, he brings this delicate topic up the next time he’s with Sylvain. In the very tactile and subtle manner he’s known for, he says this when they’re both lying in bed. “You know you’re more than your Crest, yes?”
Sylvain’s face goes through a myriad of emotions, eventually settling on a thunderous expression. It says something that it’s the most genuine emotion Ferdinand’s ever seen on his face.
“What would you know about that?” Sylvain snaps, “You love your crest, your nobility and everything it's done for you.” His words are dripping with acid and he moves away, going from leaning over Ferdinand on the bed to sitting next to him. “You don’t have the right to tell me that.”
Anger sparks deep at the words, ugly feelings rearing their head. He squashes it down, compresses it and ignores so he can focus on helping instead of hurting. He sits up. “Do you see me flaunting my Crest?” He asks. “Have you ever heard me mention it, Sylvain?”
“You-” Sylvain stops and looks at Ferdinand, the anger flickering into something before coming back. “You still love your nobility, fuck, it practically defines you!”
Ouch.
“Sylvain,” He tries keeping the bite out of his voice. He doesn’t quite succeed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you also use your nobility as a personality point.”
“We both know it’s not the same way, Ferdinand.” Sylvain mutters.
He agrees, “Yes. I see how my station can improve things while you only see how it hinders you.”
“That’s because all it’s ever done is hinder me.”
“Yes.” He can’t deny how much Sylvain has suffered under this, not when he’s seeing the results of a lifetime of this abuse come out. “But you also won’t allow yourself to see how it’s good.”
“Ho-”
“For real, true change to happen in nobility, they need to be the ones to see how it’s wrong. For generations of abuse to stop, there needs to be a change in the cycle. You can either continue it or put a stop to it.” Ferdinand knows this very well, and it’s something Edelgard reinforced.
Sylvain’s stare unsettles him. For more than the first time, Ferdinand thinks Sylvain can be an intimidating man.
“You really think that’ll fix things?” The skepticism clear in his words, “Really?”
“Isn’t it better than doing nothing?” Ferdinand has thought long on this. If his father had been the one to be different, Ferdinand wouldn’t have such a strong need to be better than Edelgard. If his nobility hadn’t become such an integral part of who he was, maybe he would’ve been in the opera and not fighting in this damn war. “Do you think it is better for us to allow this cycle of hatred and repression to continue? To let what they think dictate how we act?”
“It’s can’t be that easy.”
“Sylvain, do you think I find it easy?” He finds he doesn’t like the understanding that fills Sylvain’s eyes. “I don’t, but it is something that I feel strongly about. The world isn’t perfect. Are we not here to make it better?”
“You… You’re right.” Sylvain says eventually, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”
Ferdinand knows the anger Sylvain feels. He can understand why he was so angry. “I understand why you did.”
“Yeah,” Sylvain’s voice is contemplative. Ferdinand finds himself not liking that either. “You understand.”
They do nothing else that night. He suspects Sylvain is allergic to emotional talks.
Or they’re a major turn-off, Ferdinand’s not quite sure.
---
When Sylvain gets his mind stuck on something, it gets stuck.
As in it won’t leave him alone until he finally does something about it.
So he goes to Ferdinand’s fancy office and knocks on the door, barely waiting to hear the “Come in!”
He marches up to Ferdinand’s desk - He’s always so busy - and says: “I’ve figured you out.”
Ferdinand’s face scrunches up at Sylvain’s words, but he sounds amused. “Sylvain, I’m not a hard person to,” He laughs a little to himself, "‘figure out’.”
“That talk we had.” It hasn’t left Sylvain for the past week, playing on a loop in his head. The way Ferdinand sounded hit too close to home. Like a mirror. “You said it was our responsibility to fix things, but you hate that we do.”
The crack of Ferdinand’s quill is loud in the quiet room. There’s an obvious tremble in Ferdinand’s fingers before he clasps his hands together and looks up at Sylvain, trying to conjure up the ‘perfect-noble image’. Sylvain suddenly understands why Felix gets so mad whenever he shuts down. “I.. I don’t follow.”
“You said that we have to make things better, which is true. But you aren’t happy about it. “
“Sylvain-”
“No!” Ferdinand jerks back at his voice and his hands let go of each other, dropping to the table. “You’ve helped me see things differently,” He reaches over and grasps Ferdinand’s hands. “Let me try to help you.”
The other man is speechless, looking down at Sylvain’s hands like he doesn’t understand what’s happening. Sylvain can feel the tremor in Ferdinand’s hands despite the tight grip he has on it.
“I…” Ferdinand swallows, eyes looking everywhere except Sylvain. “I don’t know how.”
That brings a wry smile out of Sylvain, “It’s a learning process for both of us.” He tugs at the hand between his until Ferdinand stands up. The man looks off-balance and Sylvain wonders if when the last time someone asked how he was. He guides him over to the couch he has in the corner, patting the space next to him. Ferdinand follows directions numbly.
“I really don’t know how to start,” Ferdinand says, voice infinitesimally small.
Guilt eats at Sylvain, ‘I shouldn’t have pushed him’. “I’m sorry. If you want to wait to talk about this then-”
“No, you were right.” Ferdinand stops him and sighs, finger tucking some of curly hair behind an ear. It’s impossibly endearing. “It would be hypocritical of me not to, wouldn’t it? After I pushed you that night.” He gives Sylvain a weak smile. “I’m glad it’s with you.”
Goddess, Ferdinand doesn’t understand the things he does to him. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Things got quiet after that, Sylvain patiently waiting for Ferdinand to gather his thoughts. “Sometimes I wonder what I would have been like if I wasn’t a noble.”
Sylvain has often wondered the same thing. He wonders if he would have had an amazing older brother who would be proud to call Sylvain a brother, wonders what he would have ended up like if he hadn’t felt forced to go after women. He wonders if he would like that Sylvain, if he would be better.
“I don’t know.” Ferdinand sounds hopelessly lost. It damn near breaks Sylvain’s heart. “I don’t think I’d be much of anyone, really. Who am I, aside from that?”
“You’re Ferdinand.” He places a hand on Ferdinand’s thigh, “An annoyingly beautiful man whose heart is too damned big for the world he’s in. If you weren’t a noble, I think you’d still do your best to make everyone around you happy, no matter what. That’s the core of who you are, not being a noble.”
He gets a bashful smile for that, along with a laugh that creaks like a door that had been closed for too long. “You really think so?”
“Yeah, yeah I do.” Sylvain knows that, because if Ferdinand went through anything like he did and somehow ended up like he did, then that’s just how he is.
He’s a bright spot in people’s lives.
---
“Ingrid, we have a situation.”
Ingrid groans before she turns to look at him, hands already settling on her hips. Her expression has fond exasperation on it. Most of his friends look at him that way. “What have you done this time?”
“Uh.” He laughs and rubs the back of his neck, “Nothing. But I, uh, might have fallen slightly in love with Ferdinand.”
Ingrid stares at him.
He stares back.
“Sylvain, I love you dearly, but I don’t know how to help you with that.”
“But-”
“I barely even know Ferdinand. Why did you think I could help you?”
“Because…” He grows sheepish. “You’re one of my best friends?”
“I’m one of your only friends.” She snipes, but her smile is friendly. “You’ve been different recently, and I’m guessing it’s part of his influence.”
“He’s helped me realize some things.” Sylvain doubts he’ll ever be able to tell anyone what Ferdinand helped him see. He’s never been very good at emotional talks. “Some very important things.”
“I’m happy for you Sylvain-”
“But you don’t know how to help.” He finishes. “That’s alright.”
Ingrid looks thoughtful, lance idly flipping in her hands. “Try someone who talks to him. I see him and Lorenz taking tea breaks all the time.”
“Of course!” Sylvain smacks himself on the head. He’s an idiot. “I’m an idiot.”
“I know.” She laughs. “Go talk to him.”
“Thanks, Ingrid!” He says before running off.
---
The only real problem with talking to Lorenz is that he really hates talking to Lorenz.
“Lorenz! My good friend-”
“Is that what we are?” Lorenz doesn’t bother looking at him, instead choosing to focus on setting up the tea table.
Yeah, Sylvain isn’t going to enjoy this one bit. It’s for the better good, though. “So I might have a problem that you can help me with.”
“Oh, of course.” Lorenz faces him now. “I’m sure this is about you realizing how much better I am at courting women?”
Sylvain holds back his wince. “Uh. Not exactly but sorta along those lines?”
Lorenz's already smug faces somehow grows even smugger. Sylvain wonders how the hell Ferdinand stomachs this guy being his best friend. “I will gladly lend my assistance. Tell me, who is it?”
“Ferdinand.”
The only satisfaction he will probably get out of this conversation is watching the smugness quickly morph into shock. It’s wonderful.
“Ferdinand.” Lorenz repeats dumbly.
“Ferdinand.” Sylvain agrees.
Lorenz stares at him.“My darling Ferdie? Ferdinand von Aegir?”
Sylvain tucks away the nickname for later. “Uh. Yes.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is there any other Ferdinand?”
“You need my help… wooing Ferdinand.” Lorenz says flatly.
Sylvain feels like there’s a chance, just a small possibility, that they’re getting nowhere. “Ferdinand von Aegir. Yes. Him. Listen, are you going to help me or not?”
Lorenz quietly sets down the kettle and sits in the chair. He would describe it as a slump but Lorenz’s posture is as straight as ever. Sylvain takes this as permission to sit in the chair across from him, although he settles in comfortably.
“Ferdinand.” Lorenz says again.
“If you can’t get past that, I’ll go ask someone else.” He wracks his brain for people Ferdinand likes, “Like Dorothea.”
“She hates you.” Lorenz disagrees immediately. “And really, I should have seen this coming. Or I should have talked to you before you talked to me, considering just how much my dear Ferdinand talks about you now. It’s my duty as his friend to make sure you’re treating him well.”
He grins, “He talks about me?”
Lorenz isn’t amused. “Sylvain, I’m not telling you what he’s told me. I will tell you the answer to what you asked.”
“Oh, thank the Goddess. I need help.”
“As much as I would like to agree,” his tone flickers with displeasure. “Ferdinand is absolutely smitten with you, so I would suggest you keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
The little spark of hope in Sylvain does an interesting thing. It’s not dead, because Ferdinand likes him, but he also has no idea what the hell he’s done to get Ferdinand to like him.
The only real option is that he likes Sylvain for who he is.
Which is…
He smiles even wider. Lorenz lets out a disgusted noise.
“I will give you a warning,” Lorenz says once Sylvain’s about to leave. “While I love him to pieces, Ferdie can be oblivious. You must be very clear on what you mean.”
Sylvain doesn’t think he’ll have much trouble.
-—
He’s working in his room when someone knocks at the door. “Come in,” He calls out, squinting at the battle formations Edelgard had given him.
As predicted, it’s Sylvain. “Working again?”
“It’s nice to be needed,” Ferdinand looks up to smile at Sylvain. “I would like your help, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“If it gets you to sleep faster, I’ll help.” Sylvain says. “Let me have a look.”
They’re able to review the tactics in a quarter of the time it would have taken Ferdinand to do by himself. Sylvain is an intelligent man and he has a keen eye for tactics. He must suggest to Hubert that he’s added to more war councils.
“This all you had to do?” Sylvain asks, hands resting on Ferdinand’s shoulders. Ferdinand sighs and leans into the touch.
“That was it.” He looks over his shoulder at Sylvain. “Did you come here for a reason?”
“Not the one you’re expecting.” Sylvain gestures for Ferdinand to get up. “I need to talk to you.” Ferdinand must make a face because he laughs, “Nothing bad, I promise!”
“Anything I can help you with?”
“Do you have any plans for after the war?” Sylvain asks. The question confuses Ferdinand. “C’mon, surely someone like you has some idea of what to do.”
He tilts his head, thinking, “Edelgard has asked me to be Prime Minister once we’re done. I suppose I’ll do that and help the reconstruction efforts.”
“Anything else?”
“I’ve been thinking about implementing an education system for commoners.” He says, “Although you don’t really need to hear about that.”
“We’ll come back to that later,” Sylvain promises, “But… I meant more in terms of…us.”
“Us?” It takes Ferdinand by surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Sylvain’s usual bravado is absent. “I know you’ll have obligations as the next Prime Minister, and being from House Aegir, but…”
“We need not worry about that,” Ferdinand says. The burden his father had placed on him has been cast off. “Any social obligations you think I may have because of my station don’t exist.”
“That’s good.” Sylvain’s breathes. “That’s… fantastic.”
A hand wraps around Ferdinand’s wrist, gently but firmly tugging him closer to the taller man. The expression on Sylvain’s face is open and raw, hazel eyes that are normally shielded seem so vulnerable that whatever question Ferdinand had been going to ask dies in his throat. The hand on his wrist lets go, only to transition to the small of his back, shuffling Ferdinand even closer to Sylvain.
Sylvain’s eyes look down before darting back up to Ferdinand’s. Neither of them dares to break the air between them before Sylvain leans in and presses closer to Ferdinand, his other hand tracing down his side before grabbing his hip. Unable to help himself, he wraps his arms around Sylvain’s neck and tangles his fingers in his wild hair, his other one gripping his shoulder as Sylvain licks into his mouth.
Sylvain takes a cautious step forward, forcing Ferdinand to take a step back. Then he takes more, slowly until Ferdinand feels the cold stone of the wall behind his shirt. A thigh presses between his and his legs open willingly. Sylvain steps between them readily. The kiss breaks and lips are trailing down his jaw before teeth bite at his throat. He bites his own lip to keep the sound in.
Sylvain pulls away, face delightfully flushed as he looks down at Ferdinand. He can only imagine what he looks like, pressed up against a wall like this. It’s very improper.
“Ferdinand,” Sylvain breathes, all faux confidence gone from him, leaving the man Ferdinand has been trying to get to know, the man that’s been burdened by responsibilities, tortured by his birth, “Ferdinand.” He says again, brighter this time, teetering on the edge of disbelief. There're hints of laughter in there.
“Yes?” He moves to clutch Sylvain’s back, bunching the fabric in his shaky fingers. Sylvain breathes out a wobbly breath before leaning his forehead against his, eyes closing.
“You’re a really special guy.” He chuckles quietly, the air ghosting across Ferdinand’s lips. “I’m giving you one last chance to back out of this, permanently.”
He can’t help the smile that breaks out, cupping Sylvain’s jaw with a hand. “I think we both know I won’t be doing that.”
Sylvain lets out a noise, inhaling sharply through his nose. His head drops to the juncture between Ferdinand’s head and shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Ferdinand repeats, running his hands up and down Sylvain’s back. Fingers flex on his hips. “This is nice.”
“You can say that again,” Sylvain says into his neck. Ferdinand can feel his lips curl into a smile. “You know, you’re pretty hard to woo. I’ve been trying to let you know how I really felt for what feels like a while now.”
Ferdinand flushes and he’s glad that Sylvain’s tucked into his neck. “I’ve been told that I can be… oblivious.”
“Lorenz warned me.” A laugh, “It explained why you hadn't realized sooner.”
His face grows even hotter somehow, “Surely I wasn’t that bad-”
“Have you even noticed how pissed Hubert’s been whenever we’re together?”
Ferdinand’s blood turned to ice, the warm he was feeling freezing over completely. “What?”
Sylvain pulls back then, staring down at Ferdinand. “Maybe it’s because all that anger is directed at me, but his murder-face really comes out whenever I’m with you.”
“That…” Ferdinand thinks back to when Hubert had mentioned him and Sylvain, how he didn’t seem happy with the relationship. He had chalked it up to him just being in a bad mood, perhaps a little mad that Ferdinand was talking to someone else so fast, but it’s been months now. “Hubert? Jealous?”
“Wow, you really didn’t know, huh?” Sylvain laughs, “That’s cute. And kinda sad.”
Embarrassment takes over whatever he was feeling and he turns his face, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes as he looks away. “I haven’t really been… focusing on Hubert…”
“Oh?” Sylvain practically purrs, then he promptly loses the smooth and suave tone when he catches sight of the blush on Ferdinand. “Are you blushing? Aw, let me see!”
Completely mortified, he covers his face. Sylvain’s hands leave his hips to hold his wrists, gently guiding them away from his face before cupping his jaw, carefully tilting his head towards him.
“That is...the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.” Sylvain’s smile is breath-taking. “How long have you been hiding this from me?”
Goddess, he will die from mortification. “Is this necessary?” Ferdinand asks, desperate for this to end. “Surely it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Everything you do is a big deal to me.” Sylvain’s thumbs rub over his cheekbones. Ferdinand struggles harder to regain his composure. It doesn’t work. “It’s a very, very good look on you.”
He is sure that if his face were to get any hotter, he will pass out. Ferdinand already feels faint. This brings the unfortunate (fortunate, definitely fortunate) outcome of him having to hold onto Sylvain for balance. Unsurprisingly, Sylvain gives a delighted ‘Ooh!’ and grins even wider.
They spend the rest of the night like that.
It was nice.
---
There’s a change in how they act around each other now.
They had been touchy-feely before, Ferdinand needing the touch after Hubert and Sylvain being, well, Sylvain, but it there wasn’t a real connection in it, no investment.
But now it has the dedication of their feelings behind it, more confident and hesitancy gone. His friends have picked up on it.
Dorothea is, as expected, inexplicably happy for him.
“I never thought I would say that Sylvain was good for someone,” she says, her words kind, “But the two of you seem thrilled together.”
“We talked,” Ferdinand is happy to say, “And I can tell you we are very happy.”
“Good. I was worried for you after you and Hubie broke up.”
“I think everyone was.” He was grateful for their concern, truly. His friends had made that time easier. “But we are all adults, no? We handled it professionally.”
“I know.”
Lorenz lets out a huff. “You have some of the worst taste in men I’ve ever seen, darling.” Both he and Dorothea stifle a laugh, and Lorenz flushes, “What?”
“You’re one to talk!” Dorothea says, “You and Claude still haven’t figured it out!”
Ferdinand didn’t know Lorenz could turn that shade of red. Neither did Dorothea, judging by how loud she laughs.
---
He’s walking to Sylvain’s room when he hears Hubert’s voice.
“-whatever game it is you’re playing with him, it needs to stop.”
“I’m not the one who strung him along only to dump him for paperwork, Vestra.” Sylvain’s voice is calm, although Ferdinand can pick up on the undertone of anger in it.
“The two of us have very crucial roles in the Empire-”
“Listen, whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better. All I know is that you made a mistake and I’m benefitting.”
“You are playing him.”
Ferdinand is sick of hearing this. He opens the door, Hubert’s pale eyes snapping to him.
“Heya, sunshine. Sorry, I got caught up.” Sylvain says, deceptively cheery.
“It happens. There will certainly be a time where I get held up and you’ll be the one retrieving me.” Actually, Ferdinand is sure it’s already happened. He tends to work a lot.
“I have a feeling that’ll happen often.” Sylvain gives him a pointed look. “Your working ethic, while impressive, is entirely unhealthy. You can bet I will make you take more breaks.”
“Ferdie,” Hubert says, ignoring the surrounding conversation. The nickname aches like an old scar. A reminder of the past, but painless.
“You don’t get to call him that anymore.” Sylvain snaps. Ferdinand steps next to him and places a hand on his arm, gently squeezing before pulling away.
“Hubert,” The name feels weird on his tongue. It’s the first time he’s said his name since it happened. “I can… appreciate your concern, but it’s entirely unnecessary.”
“His reputation-”
“You, of all people, should know that I care not of people’s reputations,” Ferdinand rebukes. “I’m surprised to see you judging people based on rumors.”
Hubert looks between the two of them before settling on Ferdinand. “Those rumors are founded on years of evidence.”
“You don’t know Sylvain, Hubert. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“I’m concerned about whether this is… good for you.” Hubert manages.
“Then we can talk about that,” Ferdinand says. “If you really have concerns, tell me them. Don’t go putting poison in his drinks without talking to me.”
That gets a small laugh - a quick puff of air, really - out of Hubert. “Then you shouldn’t let him drink any tea today.”
“That’s fucking creepy-“
“He didn’t poison you, Sylvain,” Ferdinand tells Sylvain. “He’s just trying to scare you.”
Sylvain mutters something that sounds like ‘idiot sidekick’ but seems satisfied with Ferdinand’s assurance. Which is nice.
---
Later, Sylvain asks a question, “You want education for everyone?”
Ferdinand stares at him, “Sylvain, you can’t possibly be interested in hearing about that.”
“No,” Sylvain agrees easily, “But it’s important to you, and I like seeing you get excited. So go on, tell me about it.”
Somehow, he falls more in love with this incredibly silly man. “You’re ridiculous. And I love you.”