Chapter Text
Things have more or less settled since that day.
Or so Felix wants to think and insist. While knowledge of the worst of the incident had been kept under wraps at his behest, rumors have a way of flying around Garreg Mach. Just "knowing" that a classmate had been "tortured" during a mission, unofficial as it is, has many sympathetic glances thrown his way when he walks down the corridors of the monastery, even when minding his own goddess-damned business. It's gotten to the point where people have made the mistake of going easy on him during spars—a fact that he makes sure they come to regret.
At the very least, his usual demeanor makes it clear that he's put the incident behind him, and in a few days, people know better than to try and treat him like he's made of glass.
Not that it makes any difference to the nightmares that like to visit him at night. Dreaming of gore, screams of the soon to be deceased, a certain beast's face are nothing new to Felix, but the recent addition of faceless men closing in on him and touching him in places they have no right to has Felix waking up in a cold sweat, to discoveries he would rather not have made.
This evening is no different, and Felix, four days after the incident, starts to jerk himself off once more, hating himself as one question presses against his mind as it usually does despite the lack of an answer forthcoming.
How can he make these nightmares stop?
Still, much as it churns his stomach, Felix knows when a battle is lost and backup is needed, which is why the next day, he corners one Sylvain Jose Gautier after class, knowing full well who likely may have the answers he seeks.
"Sylvain," Felix says, a little strained, maybe a touch more accusatory than he should be. "I have some questions to ask. In private."
"Of course. Lead the way."
There's no joke. No hidden smile or laughter to Sylvain's response. He knows what Felix is about to ask, a fact that should be some sort of relief given how much easier it would be to transition into the relevant discussion Felix wants to get into. But Felix could not find any solace in that, instead wondering how long it has been since Sylvain started worrying about him in this regard.
...Probably since Sylvain and the others found him and Dimitri in that abandoned shack. So much for a sense of normalcy.
Deciding not to comment on Sylvain's easy agreement, Felix leads the way back to the dormitories, but instead of pausing by his room, he walks past it and stops by Sylvain's door, folding his arms as he waits for the aforementioned to open it. Hopefully he doesn't ask why Felix refuses to have this discussion in his bedroom, considering the unease he feels at the relevant location nowadays. This is a discussion better had in a place where Felix could choose to reveal what he wants at will. Sylvain may pretend to be a clueless flirt most of the time, but he has an uncanny way of picking up on things people don't want others to know. "People", in this case, is Felix, given what his yet to be laundered sheets might tell and the unusual, flowery smells he's sprayed his room with in hopes of driving his nightmares away.
Sylvain opens the door to let Felix in, closing it behind them. He walks over to his desk and plucks the chair from it, placing it near his bed where he settles down.
"Go ahead," Sylvain says, unable to completely conceal the concern that flickers over his features, his light tone sounding fake to Felix. "I'm all ears."
Felix takes the offered seat, crossing his legs and going back to folding his arms. As if the latter would help properly exude the aura of control he needs for these aspects of his life that keep slipping away from his hands.
"...Is there a way to stop erotic dreams?"
Nothing like the present to dive right into the heart of the matter, especially when Sylvain seems very much aware of what Felix wants to talk about. Though it doesn't stop Sylvain from holding his breath and taking an inordinate amount of time thinking on Felix's question.
"I mean, I know what I do," Sylvain says. "It's pretty easy to avoid those dreams by just making sure I'm satisfied before I go to sleep."
Making sure he's satisfied... Felix has never tried that given his aversion to such activities in the first place, but despite Sylvain himself advising it, Felix has the feeling that masturbating is not going to help his problem much, and may even make it worse.
Felix tears his eyes away from Sylvain, preferring to glare at the foot of his bed.
"How exactly is that supposed to—"
Felix stalls and blinks. Unless... it's with someone? But who does he even ask...?
For the moment, he mulls on the thought, wondering what is a more viable course of action for him at the moment. Sylvain seems content to let him do some thinking, not at all interrupting his train of thought that chugs along.
It's what they all want anyway. If it's gonna happen at least I'm choosing for it to happen.
Which eventually arrives at an overheard discussion, one that had taken place outside Sylvain's door one night after he had stolen away into the town proper for a good time. At the time, Felix dismissed it as an annoyance, a sentiment that Ingrid, the receiver of that statement, was sure to have shared, but now...
It's a little more relevant than how he wants it to be. Especially with its speaker in the same room as him, perhaps able to provide additional context...
...Or more than that, really, considering the idea that comes to Felix's mind in light of that.
"Sylvain. I'm about to ask you a favor, but you have to promise me you will not talk about this to anyone whether you agree to it or not."
He can take Sylvain's laughter—he has dealt with worse at this point—but he's not sure what he'll do if he has yet to deal with Ingrid's uncertain glances or Dimitri's attempts to reach out. He doesn't think Sylvain would tattle, but he might as well secure his word with a promise—a small habit from bygone days.
"...all right," Sylvain says, "I promise."
Felix gulps, his stomach twisting in anxiety as he tries to wrestle with the right words to express what he's about to ask.
"I need you to have sex with me. The rougher, the better."
But there are no "right" words for this one. Not when he's essentially asking Sylvain to violate him in the same manner as those men have. It's too much to ask of any person, but perhaps if it's Sylvain... he could simply view the matter as something similar to a forgettable tryst he might have with one of his women.
Still, he at least tries to meet Sylvain's eye when he says it, thinking that Sylvain deserves that much, given what he is asking of him.
Felix sucks in a breath. "I... won't hold anything against you no matter what you try." If Sylvain would even agree to it. "I promise."
Silence reigns heavy upon them, oppressive before Sylvain responds.
"Come here," Sylvain says softly, patting the bed beside him. That response that is neither a yes or a no has Felix's heart leaping into his throat, jamming any words left and leaving them nowhere to go but back down as Felix swallows, sliding off his seat to take the spot near Sylvain. Is this Sylvain agreeing to what Felix is asking of him? Or is he about to attach a caveat to the whole deal? Felix shivers slightly, unable to tell or make out Sylvain's intentions, but whatever happens, happens.
But along with resignation comes an unusual amount of peace, one that helps Felix keep his calm when he looks to Sylvain again, expectant. Whatever comes his way, Felix knows he can handle it. Because it's Sylvain, a constant, someone who you could rely on when the going gets tough. He knows what to do, and this certainly is no exception in that regard.
Sylvain slips an arm around his shoulders, gently squeezing. Not at all expecting it, Felix stiffens at first before he relaxes, sighing as he surrenders himself to it and leans against Sylvain's shoulder. They're hardly children any more, but then again... Felix running to Sylvain thanks to a problem is very much a relic of the past, isn't it? This may be a different kind of issue, but it's a problem all the same, one he looks to Sylvain for answers.
They stay like that for a few seconds before Sylvain takes a deep breath. "I'm not saying no. But... what are you hoping will come of it?"
Felix exhales. "There's... some things I wish to know for good. Maybe that would help me put everything behind me for real."
Felix's toes curl in his boots as he worries at his lower lip, not at all used to this unusual amount of honesty. But Sylvain deserves that much, even if it's something Felix isn't comfortable divulging.
Sylvain swallows, tilting his head to the side until his cheek rests on the crown of Felix's head. "What should I do? I need—I need you to tell me before we're doing anything, so I know for sure what you want."
"Sylvain…"
Felix closes his eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to stop the lump threatening to rise to his throat and the tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. Despite Sylvain's seeming agreement, his heart feels heavy—not only because of the prospect of reliving that nightmare, but also, asking it of Sylvain, someone cares more deeply than someone of his persona may suggest. This exercise will hurt Sylvain as much as it would Felix—perhaps even more for the former, given how Felix had already undergone this before.
He remembers, of course. How Dimitri looked so aghast at the idea of violating Felix, how he cried and pleaded for him back in that wretched place. That's one reason why Felix could not ask Dimitri do it, never minding his mixed feelings towards what transpired while he was servicing him.
"...Treat me like you would an enemy. One who is getting what they deserve. No, perhaps…"
Felix's gaze grows distant, recalling how those men would take turns with him, heedless of his state.
"...a plaything whose sole purpose is to give you pleasure."
Guilt lines Felix's eyes as he lowers his head, biting down on his lower lip. He's not sure if this is the answer Sylvain needs, but it's all he's capable of for now.
A moment later, Sylvain shifts, placing both hands on Felix's shoulders as Felix feels Sylvain's eyes on him. It's a struggle, but Felix manages to meet them squarely. Never mind how his uncertainty is as clear as day to read and how he doesn't bother hiding his anxiety, which Sylvain must surely know of at this point.
"Tomorrow night," Sylvain finally manages to say, the words scraping out of his throat in a strained rasp. "We don't have class the next day. I'll get us a room somewhere in town. I don't think... it would be good to do it here."
Felix takes in another breath. But if anything, the fire of determination lines his tired gaze, set on seeing this through, come what may.
"Yes. I... don't think it'd be a good idea if we were overheard."
Nor does he want to taint their sanctuaries with the memory, though that goes without saying.
Felix breathes, lowering his gaze in shame. "Thank you... Sylvain. And I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Sylvain says. "I should have been there."
Felix shakes his head. It's not Sylvain's fault that Felix stormed off after his disagreement with Rodrigue and Dimitri decided to wander after him, or that a dark mage hidden from view chose that moment to incapacitate Dimitri while several other men overwhelmed Felix then...
No, Felix just wasn't strong enough, that's all.
Gently, Sylvain brushes loose hairs away from Felix's forehead, planting a chaste kiss there. Felix shouldn't allow himself to get used to this, but here he is, allowing himself to indulge in the comfort he had stubbornly denied himself the past week. He curses himself for willingly taking the invitation, yet he presses his nose into Sylvain's shirt all the same, allowing himself to cling for the moment. Just like he would when they were children, when things were easier and all Felix would come crying to Sylvain for would be nightmares so trivial and fantastical it's a wonder he did. He doesn't cry, by mercy of the goddess, but his heart aches all the same as he leans next to Sylvain.
Tomorrow, there will be none of this. Only a daunting horror he wishes to be able to chase out for good.
"...I don't want to give you any injuries you need a healer for," Sylvain says after a few minutes of indulgence. "We'll stretch you out first, okay?"
"...Okay."
That's a compromise Felix thinks he can work with, considering how he does not look forward to going to Manuela for any more than he already has. She may have agreed to spare his father of the fact that he was violated, but her reluctance about it was clear as day to behold, and Felix isn't about to provide her a reason to have second thoughts on the matter.
Felix exhales, closing his eyes briefly. "I'm... not sure I can remain silent. But don't stop even when I tell you to." Eyes clouding slightly, Felix absently nibbles on the inside of his lower lip. "Not even when I'm begging you to, or look like I'm about to break. I'm a lot sturdier than I seem."
The latter, at least, seems to be true given how many men he had handled that day...
"Wait, what?" Sylvain blurts out, cringing as he curls around Felix more tightly as if he can protect him from feeling like he needs such an awful thing. "I need some way to know if you really, really want me to stop. I can't just—keep going if you're crying and begging me. I wouldn't be able to."
Sylvain releases Felix, brows drawn tightly together as their gazes meet.
"...how about if you really need me to stop, you say 'Mittelfrank'?"
A cue to cut the performance.
"I…"
...won't cry, but how can Felix make that promise when the memory of his tears back then are clear as day? Felix sucks in some air, hoping that would ease some of the heaviness settling in his chest, knowing this will be a reality he's going to deal with soon.
"Alright. 'Mittelfrank' it is."
The way this all weighs down on Sylvain hurts to see, and none of Felix's rationalizations about how reenacting this would help is easing any of his discomfort at Sylvain's reactions and admissions.
"Sylvain... I can ask someone else if this is making you too uncomfortable. It's no big deal."
Yes, perhaps he should have in the first place. Considering what had happened and what Felix is trying to come to terms with, perhaps he should have gone for a complete stranger from the get-go. Given what all those men had to say about his appearance, it shouldn't be hard to find someone...
"No."
That vehement response startles Felix a bit, eyes flying wide open at the expression Sylvain wears. But in a moment, it disappears into thin air, almost as if he had imagined it given how smoothly Sylvain continues:
"As long as you have a way to tell me to stop, I don't mind."
"...Okay. I'll be sure to let you know if it gets too much."
But Felix knows. He likely isn't going to use that word, not even when the going gets rough.
Because that's what he wants, doesn't he? Even when he tried to deny it, his body liked everything that was being done to it, even when pain started layering all those acts...
...No. Felix shakes his head slightly, running a hand through his hair. He isn't sure yet, and this is what this experiment is for, isn't it?
"Anything else?"
Time to focus on what needs to get done, instead of losing himself in those memories again.
Sylvain looks like he wants to say more, but he shakes his head. "No, I'll take care of the rest."
Felix, taking his word for it despite that pause, nods.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."