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Normally Claude didn’t have time to do this. Call it a whim—or stress relief, perhaps—but here he was, tinkering with his poisons.
Truthfully, he was avoiding what waited for him just outside the door of his old dorm room. Responsibilities, pressures; a throne of lies, one all his own making. And someone. Teach. The being that was becoming harder and harder to avoid with each day that passed.
It wasn’t as if he wished to avoid her, of course. Far from it, actually. Thus the danger and his being tucked away in here. There was nothing quite like his poisons and old memories to remind him of why he was telling all of these lies and driving both Teach and himself to the very brink of exhaustion. They had to end this war, and then, he would have to leave her and all of the other Deer behind. He still had dreams to fulfill in Almyra, and that knowledge weighed heavier and heavier against him the closer he grew to his comrades—and especially to Teach.
He’d found an old book down in Abyss, way back during his Academy days. It was more of a journal, really, full of various findings. Whomever the author was, they had quite the penchant for alchemy and poisons. Some of the notes in here were fascinating, but the last page was the one that had most recently caught his eye.
See, within the vial he held in his hand was said to be a liquid that targeted the central nervous system. It was meant to make one highly suggestible, making it easier to get the truth from them, though the author seemed to have walked back their findings some time ago. Something about the unreliability of the test subject. Quite honestly, the whole thing sounded more than a little wrong, but Claude had thought… well, perhaps it would be worth it, should they get their hands on one of Edelgard’s generals.
This vial, perhaps it could save countless—
“Hey, Claude?”
He jerked toward the sound of Hilda’s sing-song voice, sending the vial in his hand falling toward the wood of his desk. Instinct had his hand reaching out for it, and that proved to be a mistake. A big big mistake.
“Claude? Are you okay?”
“Ummm…” he slowly said, staring down at his hand. The glass had shattered, cutting into the skin of his finger. For a moment, he couldn’t even move to staunch the blood he was so shocked. “Yeah, no… I’m fine.”
“Claude?”
“Could you get Teach for me, Hils. I need Teach.”
“Umm… oookay?”
“Hils, I need her now. This is kind of important.” Perhaps it was the tone of his voice, but it sent Hilda running. Actually running. He wasn’t certain Hilda was capable of that.
Making his way toward the door, he stumbled over a pile of books before slamming his weight against it. Once the door was shut, he fumbled for the lock.
Heart rate? Regular. No nausea, no trouble breathing. He was still in his right mind, wasn’t he? He was. Right? He totally was. Perhaps the serum hadn’t managed to get into his blood system. He was probably worried over nothing.
Well, if that was the case, Teach would chide him for tinkering with something dangerous and then everything would be fine. No worries. None at all.
The glass. The serum! His notes! The journal! Shit!
Stripping off his cloak, he tossed it onto his bed before making his way back to his desk. Oh no… the serum… it was everywhere. The journal page was soaked, though perhaps some of the other pages would be salvageable, given adequate time to dry. The notes he’d been working on weren’t in too bad of shape, so that was good.
Was it hot in here?
Shit. Was it hot in here?
No. It was just his nerves. That was it. Nothing to be concerned about. Still, he reached for his cravat, stripping off his jacket and shirt until he was clad in just an undershirt and his loose pants. That was more comfortable, and this way he wouldn’t be risking getting any of the serum on his jacket.
He could still lie to himself, so that was a decent sign.
His finger. He needed to bind his finger. Didn’t want to risk any of the serum actually getting into his bloodstream or anything, right? That would be very very bad.
Unless… the serum didn’t need to be inserted in order to be effective? It didn’t have a strong odor, but that didn’t mean that the mere vapors couldn’t be having adverse effects. Panicking now, Claude quickly moved to open up the windows, trying to air out the room.
A knock had him jumping out of his skin, and he pressed a hand over his racing heart as he turned toward the door. “Claude?”
Teach. He swore his heartrate dropped just by the sound of her voice.
It was going to be okay. Everything was going to be fine.
“Claude? Open up the door.”
Gods, how he loved it when she spoke like that.
Racing to the door, he quickly swung it open. Teach had been in the middle of training; he could tell because her hair was up in a high ponytail, and her skin glistened with sweat. Maybe she was hot too.
“What has happened?” Lorenz asked, peering past him toward his desk. Claude didn’t remember asking for Lorenz, nor for Leonie and Ignatz who were also standing there, watching him. Hilda smiled sympathetically, twiddling her fingers in a little wave. “And what on earth are you wearing? There are ladies present, Claude! For shame! If you had any—"
Byleth cut Lorenz off with a raised hand. “Hilda said you needed me. That something broke and—”
“Oh, you know me, Teach,” Claude said, forcing a casual tone, “always doing something to get your attention.” His throat worked over a heavy swallow, and he swore he could feel sweat beading at his temples as Teach’s eyes followed the motion. “But, I don’t remember asking for a war council, so I think it’s best if you all—“ He’d been moving to close the door, but Teach stopped him with the toe of her boot against the base of the door.
He breathed a quiet, “Vapors,” hoping only Teach would hear.
“Go,” Teach immediately ordered, waving a hand to the rest of them without breaking eye contact with him.
“But…” Ignatz said, hesitating, “Is he…”
“I’ll take care of it,” Teach assured them, moving to cover her mouth and nose with a sweat rag hanging from her belt. It might not be enough, but he was glad it was at least something. “Everything will be fine.”
Did Claude believe her? Probably. She had a way of making things turn out alright. The others certainly seemed to at least to some extent because they all turned and left, sparing only a few worried glances his direction before they vanished down the hall.
Had they truly come up here because they were concerned about him?
Pushing her way into the room, Teach shut the door behind her, locking them in together. Her eyes traveled first to his desk, then to the open windows, assessing the situation. “What were you working on?”
The words, “Truth serum,” blurted out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he quickly moved to place his palm over it.
Whelp, that answered a few questions.
Oh no… panicking. Stop panicking. It’s going to be fine. It’s just Teach, she’s not going to—
“Claude, it’s going to be alright. Breathe.” She took the hand not covering his mouth and rested it on her chest. It rose and fell with even breaths, even if no heartbeat could be felt within. It actually did help assuage the panic somewhat, as did seeing her so calm. He could tell she was already going into tactician mode, trying to plan out their next course of action. Funny, that was the same face she made right before a battle. “Good. Keep breathing. One more question. Will this make you ill or harm you in any way?”
His forced answer of, “I don’t think so,” was muffled into his palm. He removed it as he added, “Unless, of course, you mean telling the truth at the wrong time. That would definitely be harmful to me.”
Okay, so the serum made you quite literal. Got it.
“One more question—”
Chuckling, he said, “You already said that, Teach.”
“Follow up question, then,” she said, an odd tension at the corners of her eyes. “How long is this supposed to last?”
He promptly responded. “I don’t know,” before she took his hand and gently pressed it back over his mouth.
Her hand was still covering his, and she was so very close as she said, “No more questions. I’m going to leave, and you are going to lock this door behind me. I’ll stand guard outside until we know it’s over, and I swear to you I will not allow anyone inside. Alr—" She stopped herself, lips drawing into a tight line.
It was going to be a question, and he might be forced to answer.
Gods, he didn’t deserve to have her as a friend. Or anything, for that matter.
Carefully pulling her hand away, she backed toward the door. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
“Wait!” he blurted, only removing his hand when the word came out muffled. She tilted her head, waiting for whatever he was going to say. “Aren’t you going to ask me questions, my friend?”
She gave a puzzled tilt of her head. “No.”
“You understand that most of the people in this monastery would like nothing more than to be locked in a room with me when I’m being forced to tell the truth, right? I’d tell you anything.”
“It’s you, Claude. You don’t want that.”
“But I do!” Only after the words had left his tongue did he realize that it wasn’t a lie. He wanted to tell her everything. The desire burned in his chest, hotter than any bonfire. And while there was still the familiar thrum of panic in his veins, it wasn’t painful, the idea of telling her anything. Or everything.
“Not like this,” was all she said before shutting the door in his face.
He moved toward it, trying the knob, but she was holding it from the other side. He whined a somewhat pathetic, “Teach!” thudding his forehead against the wood of the door. Figures that the moment he realized he wanted to tell her, she’d lock him away like this.
Just as a wave of bitterness threatened to settle over him, Teach firmly ordered, “Lock the door, Claude.”
“But I—”
“You’re not in your right mind. I’m not going to take advantage of you like that.”
Was that true? Was he not in his right mind? Maybe it was a side effect of the serum, this sudden desire to spill all of his secrets to her. Maybe it’d be the same if it were anyone else beyond that door. The author’s notes had said there was a problem with the reliability of the subject. Who was that subject? Why were they unreliable?
Catching his reflection in the mirror, Claude walked over to examine himself. Flushed cheeks, pupils slightly dilated. Curious, he said, “My hair is—” His throat convulsed over the strangest swallow, and he pressed a hand to it as he tried again.
Green. Say green.
“My hair is… BROWN!”
Dropping his forehead to the cool surface of the mirror, Claude drew in a few deep breaths. Gods, this stuff was no joke. As he pulled back, his reflection was fogged over from the heat of his breath, but he still said a quiet, “I want to tell Teach my name.”
Goosebumps covered his body as he pressed a hand to his mouth.
Why? Why was this happening now? He couldn’t possibly tell her everything now, they still had a war to end. Perhaps after it was over he could tell her his name, maybe even bring up this intoxicating tension that had been building between them since the moment she found him in the Goddess Tower, but what then? He still had to go back to Almyra, and there was no telling whether he would be successful in his ambitions of breaking down the borders between them.
He wanted to tell her about his true identity, just like he wanted to tell her about the feelings he had for her, but was that the right thing to do? As a Duke and (hopefully) soon-to-be king of Almyra? As someone who had dreams and ambitions that would inevitably tear them apart?
Besides, there was no guarantee that she would feel the same way if he did. What if telling her his identity soured their relationship? What if confessing his feelings made it so they could no longer work together? Or put her in even more danger? Could he truly risk the fate of Fodlan itself because he was in love with his former professor?
The thought had his next breath leaving him in a shaky exhale.
Looking into his now clear reflection, he wondered when it became so unreasonable to hold this desire to be truly known by someone. Teach had stood by him through so much, not to mention gone along with his every scheme since the moment she woke up from her extended sleep. Even now, she forced him away under the pretense of his feelings. He had found someone caring, powerful, beautiful; someone who could truly walk his path beside him.
Was he really such a coward that he would let this opportunity pass him by?
Plodding back over to the door, he carefully tried the knob once more. It gave easily, but as he opened up the door, Teach stopped him from the other side. She really did know him too well.
He whined a protesting, “Teach!”
“Go inside, Claude.”
“My friend…”
“Please, Claude. Stay inside.”
“At least come in—”
“No.”
“Byleth, please.”
He could make out only part of her face in the crack between the door and the doorframe as they both pulled at the handle. She paused, expression heavy with something he couldn’t name, before saying, “I need you to stay inside or I’m going to be forced to protect you from yourself.”
He chuckled, the sound nervous and thready. Perhaps that was the reason for the oh so eloquent, “Umm… what?” that came out of his mouth.
“You would never forgive me if I let you—”
“You aren’t listening to me.”
“—tell me any of your secrets when you’re like this.”
“Don’t you want to know things about me?” For a moment his heart ached at the thought that perhaps she didn’t. That somewhere along the line the partnership he thought that they had had actually turned into a working relationship where he just manipulated Teach into doing the things he wanted whether she wanted to or not. He’d pushed too many boundaries, kept too many secrets, forced her hand too many time. Perhaps she didn’t want to know. Perhaps she didn’t care.
“I already know you,” she said, and something inside of him withered at the look of complete honesty written all over her face. She genuinely believed she knew him. He hadn’t even had the guts to tell her his name, and she could say she knew him with a straight face. Why was this so much worse than the other option?
He blurted a rushed, “Claude isn’t my real name.”
She moved so fast he didn’t have a chance of fending her off. Covering his mouth with her palm, she wrestled him back into his room, only for his heel to snag a pile of books and send the both of them tumbling to the ground.
Ow. He really did need to consider cleaning his room.
He groaned, blinking his eyes open to find Byleth propped against his chest. His heart hammered against her other palm. This was the closest they’d ever been. How easy would it be to lean forward and press his lips to hers?
No. Not now. Not yet.
“My name is—” His next words were staunched once again by her palm. He attempted to grab her wrist, only to have her pin his arms down with her knees. It wasn’t a solid hold, he could get out of it fairly easily if necessary, but it was obvious her main concern was covering his mouth, not trapping him.
“Shit,” she cursed, staring down at him with a sort of helplessness he’d never seen from her before. It made his chest ache with a longing to reach out, to hold her. “Shit, shit, shit!”
He tried speaking, but she pressed both hands over his mouth, muffling his words. “Are you going to stay quiet? Because I don’t want to, but I will restrain you if I need to.”
Another nervous laugh vibrated out of him as an all-to-familiar charge filled the air between them. The word, “No,” was forced out of him by the serum, but muffled due to her hands. Teach must have heard it anyway, because she sighed, her head dipping down until it was even closer to his. In the shade of her bangs, he could have sworn they glowed faintly, like all that power she had radiated from within.
“It’s going to be okay,” she softly said, like she was trying to comfort him. “I won’t let you say anything, I promise. Just give me a second to figure this out.”
He must have made a face, because she added, “I know you might be scared… but you don’t have to be. It’s going to be alright.”
It took him a moment longer than it probably should have, but he quickly realized she was taking his rapid heart rate and his harsh breathing as a sign of fear, rather than the baser human reaction to having the beautiful woman that he’d been fantasizing about for years straddling his chest.
Simple mistake.
Laughing now, he tried to shake his head, but it was a little hard with her holding him the way she was. Gods, she was so close. For a moment all he could do was stare into her eyes. Not like he had much of a choice, but gods if she wasn’t beautiful.
Okay… maybe this serum was messing with him a little more than he thought.
Teach blinked a few times, breaking whatever spell had them staring at each other in the silence of his room. A slight flush colored her cheeks as she sat up, putting more distance between their faces. Looking around, she began mumbling under her breath, probably plotting out what she could use to restrain him.
Claude wasn’t going to acknowledge that particular rush of heat to his groin. Gods, was this serum some sort of aphrodisiac too or had it really been that long?
“Your eyes are blue,” she said, eyes still roving the room. “Good. It’s likely not the vapors, then. Or they’ve all dissipated to the point that I’m not affected. Not that there’s much I could say that you don’t already know.”
The words were like a punch to the gut, not that she’d intended them as such. She was right, after all. He’d stolen every last one of her secrets from her, some of them before she’d even known them.
“This will have to do for now,” she muttered, leaning over his face to grab something off his floor and making it a whole lot harder to not be turned on by all of this. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Gre—” He didn’t manage to say the full word before she hooked two fingers in his mouth, tugging it open, only to shove something inside. Goddess in the fucking—
“Sorry,” she said, eyes shining with a remorse that quickly killed the moan building in his chest. “I’m going to make it so you can’t talk.”
Alright, this was getting a little too ridiculous.
He attempted to spit out whatever fabric was in his mouth, but she moved to keep it there. Left with no other choice, he planted his feet and bucked his hips, sending her reeling. She tried to catch herself with a hand above his head, but he grabbed her wrist and rolled until he was on top of her.
Ignoring her squirming, he turned his head and spat out the makeshift gag. “I want to tell you, my friend. Why won’t you believe me?”
She shook her head, gritting out a frustrated breath through her teeth. He was bigger than her, but he could also tell she was considering whether she needed to actually hurt him to get the advantage. If she took this seriously, he wasn’t sure he would stand a real chance. His brawling skills were nothing compared to hers, and honestly? He was far too aroused by all of this to consider her actions threatening. “If you wanted to, you would have,” she replied.
“I was scared.” The words were compelled out of him in a pained breath, and it was enough to make Teach stop squirming beneath him. “I am scared that you can’t accept me. Everyday. But I still want to tell you who I am. I want you to know me.”
With another frustrated breath she insisted, “I do know you.”
“Byleth…”
“I don’t need to know your real name or whatever else you feel compelled to tell me because of that stupid serum in order to know you. I know you.” The words were said with such a fierce determination that Claude was left speechless.
This was his Teach; the very one he’d longed for throughout the five years of her extended slumber. The being who’d never failed to be there for him, while also being the firm hand he needed to guide him. Even after all he’d done, the buttons he’d pushed, the unkind words he’d said, she was still here.
His eyes roamed her face, so close now that he could see each eyelash and mark upon her lovely face.
The confession of, “You’re beautiful,” slipped from his tongue so easily it might have been terrifying. But it wasn’t. This was Teach. His Teach. He trusted her more than anyone in the world.
The blush that bloomed then rivaled the most stunning of sunsets, the most beautiful of starlit skies.
She averted her gaze. “Claude…”
He shook his head, now fully conscious of the fact that he’d made this even more uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Teach, I can’t help—”
“Would you like it if I kissed you?” The words were all but blurted out in a very un-Teach-like fashion, startling him.
A “Yes,” wheezed out of him in a way that probably would have been embarrassing if she didn’t immediately ask, “Right now?”
His answering, “Yes,” this time came out in Almyran. Her eyes flashed to his, but before he had the time to panic over the slip, her lips were caressing his. For a second he couldn’t move, transfixed by the very idea that this was actually happening. However, the quiet sigh she released against his mouth as they parted for breath quickly had him diving back in for more.
He whispered a soft, “Byleth,” against the corner of her mouth, and she buried her hands in his hair, looping her legs around his waist.
“Hush now,” she said, shutting him up once again. It wasn’t as if he minded. Her lips certainly tasted better than whatever she’d used to gag him earlier, and he’d only been wanting to do this since he was seventeen. With a rush, he found himself pinned on his back once more with Byleth hovering over him. “Is this alright?” she asked, fingers lightly tracing his jaw.
“Yes. Gods, Byleth…” A book was digging into his shoulder, but he mindlessly brushed it aside before reaching up to caress her powerful thighs.
She kissed her way to his ear before whispering, “Do you trust me? Truly?”
Without hesitation he answered, “Yes. With my life.” Surely he had countless times since they’d met, and she’d lived up to that sense of trust every single time.
Looking into his eyes, she carefully clarified, “With your secrets?”
“Yes, Byleth. Yes.”
There was a pause as she drew in a steadying breath. “Then tell me.”
In a mere whisper, he finally told her the secret that had been hanging between them since the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. “My name is Khalid, and I am a prince of Almyra.”
He’d been expecting shock and surprise, but perhaps that had been naïve of him. After all, the woman currently straddling his hips was fused with the goddess of the Seiros religion. What could possibly surprise someone like her? Instead, she kissed along his jaw with a murmured, “Prince?”
He groaned softly as she used her nose to fiddle with his earring. “Prince.”
“What shall I call you, then?” she whispered low in his ear. “Claude? Or Kha-lid?”
“Khalid,” he repeated, drawing out the pronunciation for her.
“Khalid.” The name his father gifted him at his birth combined with the adoring look in her eyes as she drew back was enough to leave him breathless. She moved to cup his cheeks, all the while holding his gaze. “No one else will learn the truth, Khalid; not until you wish it. I will protect this—protect you—with my life. I swear it.”
Could it truly be this easy to be accepted? To be held with such tenderness and care? Like he was the most precious thing in the whole entire world?
His voice wavered as he asked, “You aren’t… angry? Upset that I lied to you about who I am, and where I came from?”
She drew in a deep breath before answering, “I wish you had felt safe enough to tell me sooner. And I wish you could have told me without dosing yourself with truth serum.”
“Accidentally dosing,” he corrected.
A small laugh trickled out of her, and he wished he could bottle up the sound so he could hear it always. If you’d told him five years ago that his stoic professor would one day be laughing at something he’d said as she straddled him, young Claude probably would have laughed his head off.
“Truthfully, I’ve suspected this for some time,” she said, thumbs gently swiping across his cheeks. “I just wanted to… I don’t know… earn your trust, somehow.”
It was his turn to cup her cheek as he insisted, “You have it, my friend.”
A slight smile quirked at the side of her mouth, and he traced it with his thumb. “I will always support you, whether you go by Claude or Khalid or any other name.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that, my friend,” he murmured, swiping his thumb over her lips now. He wished for nothing more than to kiss her again, but this was too important. “You don’t even know what such a promise entails.”
She nipped at his thumb before countering, “Has it ever crossed your mind that perhaps I trust you, just as you say you trust me, Mister Leader Man?”
“Of course, it has,” he teasingly countered, somehow managing to be cheeky despite the arousal absolutely thrumming in his veins. “Everything crosses my mind. That’s my job, isn’t it?”
A smile played at the edges of her mouth as she said, “Liar.”
Both of them froze, staring at one another. Claude brought a tentative hand to his throat as he said, “My hair is green.”
“Liar.” Byleth was smiling in earnest now, the same smile that was so rare and precious. Too bad he wanted to kiss it right off her lips.
“It wore off,” he incredulously laughed. “Gods, I didn’t even notice.” It was odd, this sense of elation he felt, not knowing when it wore off. He was so relieved to realize that it was easy to be truthful with Byleth, with or without the serum. For so long he’d been afraid that his life of lies was all he would have, all that would keep him safe.
She carefully climbed off of him, asking, “Do you feel alright?”
The action had his heart seizing in his chest. He wanted her to come back, to stay. Catching her hand, he said a soft, “My friend…”
Her brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
“Does this… change things? Between us?”
“It doesn’t have to,” she said, carefully examining him as she did so. “Not if you don’t want it to.”
He slowly pulled her to him as he asked, “And if I do?” Now that he knew what it was to kiss her, to hold her, he wasn’t sure he could go back to dancing around their attraction as they had been these last few months. For all his stubbornness and ambition, he was too weak a man.
The overly rational thoughts hovered at the edges of his mind; the warnings that he might one day need to leave Byleth behind, and that she deserved more than the lifetime of struggle that would be hers if she agreed to love him as he loved her. Was it selfish to think that perhaps the throne of lies he’d built wouldn’t seem so lonely, now that it was built for two?
Nevertheless, he leaned in closer at the same moment she did. Their lips met once more, and Claude buried his fingers in her hair to keep her there. As he moved to trail soft kisses down her throat, she whispered, “I didn’t think it was possible to want someone as much as I want you. It’s…” she drew his shirt between her clenched fists, “terrifying.”
He couldn’t deny the rush the admission left him with. Still, he rested his forehead against hers as he breathlessly chuckled, “I feel the same, my friend.”
Between kisses she said, “The others will grow curious soon. I should probably go…”
“Noooo,” he protested in a whine, pulling her in again and again. She huffed a breath of laughter against his mouth but made no further move to leave.
“Silly Khalid,” she murmured, raking her hands through his hair. The use of his name and the delicious tug at his scalp finally pulled a deep groan from his chest. One that she seemed to appreciate, if the hunger in her eyes was any indication.
He pulled her back into his lap with a low, “C’mere, you.”
Her calloused fingers traced the bob of his throat as she asked, “Are you sure you want this?”
Surely she could feel him, straining in his trousers already. Still, he answered, “Yes, my star. I’ll always want you. Always.”
She arched a brow, not in judgement but seemingly in question. “’My star’?”
“Light amidst the darkness, the guide I look to when I feel lost, the keeper of my every wish…” He kissed her deeply, elated that he could do so. “My star.”
After a few more frenzied kisses, she ordered, “Clear the bed. I’ll lock the door.” He released a somewhat delirious giggle, almost too busy watching her walk away to do as she’d asked. Nevertheless, he did manage to fulfill his task, just in time to have her slot herself against his back.
For a moment the need of his lust quieted as he dipped into the endless sea of his affection for her. One of her capable hands worked at untucking his undershirt before skating across the skin of his abdomen, making it tense beneath her touch. Kiss after kiss was pressed to the back of his shoulders as she raked up his shirt inch by inch.
His hands ached to do their own exploring, but he withstood the temptation to turn and face her, all too eager to see where she wished to go with this.
Once his shirt was discarded to some forgotten corner of the room, Byleth’s mouth continued roaming. Her hands did too, trailing up the plane of his abdomen until they found his chest. He tried to keep his breathing steady as they tested his reactions, but could do nothing for the hitch of his breathing and the low groans her efforts pulled from him. Especially as her hands traveled lower.
“Is this what you want?” she asked, voice low in his ear.
“Yes,” he immediately answered, lightheaded and wanting.
Looping her fingers in the hem of his pants, she said, “Off.” It was simple to do as she asked, but became less so as she asked, “Would you like to undress me?”
In a breathless chuckle he asked, “Is that even a question, my friend?” How many times had he imagined this very scenario? Her bare atop him, or beneath him. What sounds she might make as he made her come apart with his tongue and fingers.
With one last kiss to his nape, she urged him to turn around. His nerves were alight with the look in her eyes as she seemed to drink every bit of him in. For a moment disrobing seemed to be forgotten as her fingers danced across his skin, stopping wherever she found scars—some new, some very very old.
“I still can’t…” she paused, drawing her lip between her teeth as she traced one of his newer scars; a gift from an Imperial assassin not long after the fall of the monastery. “Five years.”
“Teach…”
Taking a page out of his book, she attempted a smile. “I still can’t believe it sometimes, how much you changed.”
He chuckled under his breath as he bent down to kiss her neck. “Not a scrawny boy anymore, am I?”
With a lift of her arms, he quickly remembered his earlier goal. Still, he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her properly first, swallowing down the pretty little noise she made as he sought out the feel of her skin. They only parted as he finally pulled her shirt over her head, and for a moment all he could do was stare. It took some maneuvering, but she stripped off the restrictive garment that bound her breasts, baring them before his adoring eyes.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, before repeating it in Almyran. He loved the way her eyes lit up at that, showing that she wasn’t afraid or ashamed of him using the language of his homeland. “May I?” he asked, hands hovering at her breasts.
She nodded, smirk coy. “Touch me, Khalid.” And oh, she was dangerous with that. Figures he would willingly hand her one of his weaknesses, what with her being his greatest. But she wasn’t only his weakness, she was also his greatest strength, this beautiful woman before him. He captured her lips in another kiss as he palmed her breasts, wanting to draw out every possible sound, just so he could swallow each of them down.
“Your finger,” she murmured, taking his hand so she might inspect it with that careful gaze of hers. The bandage must have caught her attention. Stupid.
With a sheepish smile he admitted, “I cut it on the glass when this whole nonsense began.”
“Come,” she said, pulling him toward the basin in the corner of the room. Even bare as the day he was born and cock ruddy and wanting, all he could do was follow her.
She was all business as she cleaned the cut, inspecting it carefully before healing it. He flexed his finger as the warmth of her magic settled into his skin, relieved to see that there wasn’t much but a scar left behind.
It would serve as a lovely reminder of this day.
Perhaps Teach thought so too, for her lips lovingly traced the mark, before quickly following it with her tongue. His eyes were tempted to flutter shut, but he couldn’t, too trapped by her stare.
She huffed a breath of laughter, seemingly amused by him.
He lived to amuse her.
“What is it you like?” she asked, and her tone made him think she was issuing some sort of challenge, like they were back in the classroom with her as the teacher and he as the student. Or perhaps she was testing whether he could still be honest with her without the serum.
Dipping down to kiss her, he answered, “You.” Her nose scrunched up, forming a little wrinkle in the bridge as she expressed her displeasure over his answer. He couldn’t help but laugh; she’d become so much more expressive lately. It was utterly enchanting. “What is it you wish to do to me, my star?” he teased, pulling her to him. Her expression shifted carefully into that familiar stoney mask, meaning she was hiding her reaction.
He gave a questioning hum as he pecked a kiss to the tip of her nose, before trailing more along the curve of her jaw. She was being stubborn for some reason, silent and waiting. Drawing her earlobe between his teeth, he gave a light tug before whispering, “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”
Her hands came up to rest at his hips, like she wished to pull him even closer even though they were already skin to skin. “I didn’t say that,” she evenly answered, in that way only she could.
Swallowing down another giddy little giggle, he traced one hand up the curve of her neck while trailing the other down her side to finger the hem of her pants. “Teach,” he chided, laughing whole-heartedly as she nipped at his collarbone in retaliation. Between his elation over her returned feelings and his arousal, he was practically dizzy. It didn’t matter though, because as he leaned into her, her arms carefully circled his waist, keeping him upright. Always there to steady him.
“You just want me to pull information out of you today,” she surmised, nuzzling into the sensitive skin below his ear. His breathing hitched as her lips and tongue began exploring once again, eyes rolling back as his chest heaved with every breath.
Gods, he wanted her to touch him. She would, if he asked. In fact, he suspected she’d do just about anything he wanted if he asked sweetly enough. This was more fun, though. Their little banter. Gods, he loved it. Loved her. Said so in his Almyran tongue, the words slipping from his tongue and into the open air for any to hear.
She pulled back to stare him in the face, and for a moment he wondered whether she knew what it meant. Alas, she asked, “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” he answered, a shit eating grin quickly blossoming on his face. But then she tested out the words with her stumbling Fodlan-speaking tongue and his heart swelled until it felt too large to fit comfortably in his chest.
He pressed his lips to hers, if only to silence her. He couldn’t have her saying those words; not until she knew what they meant. She hummed pleasantly against his mouth before nipping at his lip. She was bitey. Gods, he loved that he knew that now. What else could he learn about her? He wanted to know everything.
As she carefully guided him back toward the bed, he was reminded of their first dance during the ball. She easily lead him past a stack of books before pressing him back onto the bed, her lips never leaving his. Byleth kissed and touched him like she was on a mission to explore every single inch of him, which was beyond adorable. And also a little overwhelming.
He drew in a stuttered breath as she idly caressed his throat, and she drew back to look him in the eyes as she moved to do so in earnest, testing it. She didn’t do anything with his too obvious reaction, though a part of him wished she would. No, her hand simply lingered there as she shifted to kneel beside him, the other hand traveling down toward his straining cock.
He’d underestimated what it would be like, for her to touch him as he was pinned beneath her stare. At the swipe of her thumb over the sensitive head, that feeling of overwhelm pulled a smile to his lips as he teased, “Never can—”
“Easy,” she murmured, bending down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Both hands moved away, leaving his chest stuttering for breath as all of the anticipation that had been building there fizzled away to nothing. “You’re safe with me. I won’t do anything you don’t want.”
He forced out an uneasy chuckle. “I know that, my friend.”
She searched his face for hardly a moment before saying, “Your smile isn’t reaching your eyes.”
His head plopped back on the bed as he sighed, “Perhaps you know me a little too well.”
“Would you like to stop?”
He sat up with a jolt, pulling her to him. “No. Of course not!”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he insisted, kissing her with all the feeling he had inside of him. “I just… I don’t think I’ve quite grasped the fact that this is happening.” He cupped her cheeks as he asked, “What did I ever do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?”
Were he pressed, Claude might say something like insecurity flashed in her eyes. It was something about the way they darted away from his, and the way her shoulders sank. “What is it?” he prodded, grazing her cheek with a light press of his lips.
“You’re a prince,” she said, voice pitched low in the barest of whispers, like they might be overheard even though they were the only people in the room. “I’m just… me.” A disbelieving chuckle escaped him, only to be quickly staunched as her expression became even more guarded. “I’ve always known dukes don’t end up with common mercenaries. But princes?”
“Byleth, my star, my friend,” he paused, pulling her in to press a kiss to her forehead, “after everything we’ve been through, all we’ve accomplished together, this,” he drew back to look her in the eyes, “do you truly think I could ever let you go?”
Her gaze dropped to the bed. “Your dreams—"
“Would mean next to nothing if you weren’t there by my side, walking with me hand in hand.” He laced their fingers together and felt his heart race as she lightly squeezed his fingers. “I won’t say it will be easy. In fact, ending the war? That’s only the beginning. But I love you, Byleth. With everything I am. I’m never letting you go. Never.”
A knock sounded at the door, and the two of them jolted, torn from the little bubble they’d found themselves in. “Hey, you two,” Hilda’s sing-song voice came filtering through the wood, “I just want to let you guys know that I, personally, got Seteth off your back since the Professor missed that big meeting—”
“Shit,” Byleth quietly cursed, pressing her hands over her face.
“—so you should both be sure and thank me for that properly at your earliest convenience, seeing as I really stuck my neck out for you.” A pause. “Oh, and Claude? Consider this is my ‘I told you so’. Now have fun you two!”
“’I told you so’?!” Claude called back, making a grab for his pants as Byleth pulled her shirt over her tangled mess of hair. She nodded frantically as she combed fingers through it, checking herself in the mirror. “We’re just discussing ideas for the issue we’ve been having with the western supply line, Hilda.”
“Uh huh,” Hilda coyly said, and Claude could practically see her smug smile. “I suppose that means you won’t mind opening up the door, then. Maybe in the next, I don’t know, three… two…”
Cracking the door, Byleth murmured a low, “No chores for a week if you keep your mouth shut.”
Claude winced. That was going to make this so much worse. At this point, everyone in the monastery would know what they’d been doing before dinner. Did they even care if people knew? Actually, they probably didn’t want people to know. At least the Deer, though?
Ugh. Maybe he could still salvage this.
“You’re going to make that two,” Hilda cheerily said, giggling.
Teach countered with a warning, “Hilda…”
“Oh, come on! I’m just so happy for you two! I mean you finally get to—”
Somewhat dressed now—at least to the state that he was when Hilda last saw him—Claude came to open the door wider. Plastering on a thoughtful look, he said, “I hear a mouth opening, Teach. Is that a mouth opening?”
Byleth nodded solemnly, but he saw the little twinkle in her eye. She was laughing on the inside, he just knew it.
Hilda planted her fists on her hips, brow knitted in obvious frustration. “Why on earth are you dressed?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Claude countered, casually leaning against the door in a way that hopefully hid his quickly flagging erection.
“’I need Teach’, you said. You sounded all urgent. And then when we got here you were all flushed and dressed down…” She gestured at his undershirt emphatically. “I thought—”
“You thought what?” he prodded, quirking an eyebrow. “I was going to use my rippling shoulder muscles to seduce our lovely Professor here?” Gods, he loved the way Byleth’s expression didn’t crack in the slightest, even as Hilda looked between them in what seemed to be dismay.
Hilda’s eyes darted between them. “So… you aren’t—”
“Aren’t what?” Teach asked, tilting her head to her fist. Oh, she looked so innocent. It was adorable.
“But… But you said I didn’t have to do chores if I kept my mouth shut!”
“Because I didn’t want you tattling to Seteth that we were here,” Byleth flatly said, eyeing Hilda skeptically. “Otherwise he’ll come barging in here to talk about my behavior in services again and I really don’t want to deal with that. Supply lines are more important.”
“But… But!”
“Geez, HIls… All these accusations.” Claude clicked his tongue as he glanced Teach’s direction. “You know, at this rate I just might have to make mention to Holst about that time I found Hilda and—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, von Riegan,” Hilda sternly said, huffing a frustrated breath. “Fine. I’m leaving. You two are boring, anyway.” They both watched her stomp down the hall, muttering under her breath.
The minute he’d closed and locked the door, Byleth had him pressed up against it. He groaned as quietly as he could, arms immediately looping about her waist. “That—” he bit his lip to silence a moan as she mouthed at his neck, “That was close…”
Teach seemed far more interested in ripping off his shirt than anything else. Claude couldn’t help but chuckle, aiding her in stripping him of every last piece of his clothing. Intrigued, he teased, “I gotta know… Was it the rippling shoulder muscles comment?”
“Enough talking,” she said oh so simply. Claude was a little too busy smiling to kiss her properly, but she didn’t seem to mind.
A woman on a mission, it seemed.
She all but pushed him down onto the mattress, not that he was fighting her. He watched, awestruck, as she pulled her own shirt over her head and bared herself for him once more.
He would never get over seeing her like this.
She crawled over him, pressing open-mouthed kisses up the length of his body until he cupped her cheek and pulled her to him. When she kissed him this time, it was slow. Tender. It was so very easy to melt into her touch—and he ignored the way his brain supplied that perhaps it was a little too easy.
She nodded in encouragement as his fingers wandered toward the apex of her thighs, gasping hotly as he circled her clit with the pad of his finger. As she spread her legs wider, he slowly pressed a finger into the heat of her, biting back a moan at the thought of what she would feel like around him. All the while words of affection and praise spilled from his lips.
Was this truly happening? His mind still struggled to comprehend it all. This was not what he’d thought would come of his day, but he was far from angry about it.
Byleth gasped a soft, “Khalid,” and his cock ached.
“You’ll be the death of me with that, my star,” he weakly jested, the words trailing off to breathless laughter as she mouthed at his collarbone. “And what a way to go.”
In the light streaming through the windows, he was blessed with the sight of her flushed cheeks and her heated stare. “Giving in already?”
What a way to go…
With a bit of effort and an exerted grunt he managed to switch their positions, enjoying the sight of her seafoam hair spread across his sheets in a lovely halo surrounding her head. He was sure his smile was all teeth as he crawled down the length of her body. “Oh, I’ve barely begun, Teach. What have I said about underestimating me?”
As he looped one of her legs over his shoulder, he took the oh so necessary time to worship her muscular inner thighs with biting kisses, enjoying the way she squirmed and fought as he did so. “Sensitive, Teach?” She might have scowled at him, but it lacked any sort of venom as he sucked a mark even closer to her dripping sex. “That is for being cheeky.”
“Cheeky?” she panted. “That’s—” the cutest little gasp as he nipped as he pressed a kiss to her lower stomach, “practically your middle name.”
“Actually it’s—” the sound of her moaning swallowed the rest of his sentence, but eh… semantics. With a swipe of his tongue he licked along her slit, getting his first taste of her before making his way to her clit. He had the most exquisite view through it all, the swell of her breasts as she panted, the pretty parting of her lips as she grasped the sheets between her fists.
She gave a rather endearing indignant squawk as he hitched her hips higher so he could palm at himself, trying to ease some of the discomfort before focusing on the task before him. The muscles of her thighs threatened to clamp around his head, and for a moment he was dizzy at the prospect of it. Then, all that building pressure finally found its peak.
Perhaps he enjoyed having her at his mercy a little too much, wringing every last ounce of pleasure he could from her orgasm until the sounds she was making were tinted with desperation and he eased off of her now-swollen clit.
Resting her lower half back on the bed, he crawled up to lay beside her, heart warming as she tucked herself into his chest with a pleased little hum. A hiss whistled between her teeth, and he craned his neck to find her fingers already working. Burying his resulting groan in the waves of her hair, he quickly moved to join her.
She gasped as his fingers replaced hers, head tipping back as he slowly prepared her. Those glowing green eyes of hers were delightfully hazy with want, staring into his with a look so filled with a affection he thought he might drown in it. To think that that a look like that could be for someone like him, after all that he’d done in his life.
In that moment, he wished he had half of Ignatz’s talent so he might capture the look of rapture on her face.
Then her fingers wrapped around him and all other thoughts fled his mind. Everything boiled down to their heated kisses, the feel of her cool skin on his, and the frantic pace of her breathing as she muttered his name over and over.
“Enough,” she impatiently said, swiping at his wrist.
“Are you sure?”
With a dip of her head, all she said was, “Need you.” As she moved to kneel, he quickly scrambled to follow her lead. She planted her hands against the wall, nodding for him to kneel behind her. He laughed, charmed by her ordering him around even now.
Her head dipped between her arms as he slowly pressed inside of her, and he clung to her hips, desperate for something to ground him as his body threatened to betray him there and now. “Goddess,” he cursed, bowing his forehead to the back of her shoulder as their hips finally met.
“Claude…”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his right hand dipping to the point where their bodies met. Her back arched so beautifully as she gasped, whole body winding tighter and tighter as his hips moved, thrusting into her again and again and again as he worked her clit. The bed was creaking, banging against the wall, but in that moment he didn’t care if the whole of the monastery could hear them. Seteth himself could come barging through that door and he still wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Wait, wait, I—” she cut off with a gasp, her inner muscles clenching around him as she drew closer and closer to climax. He wavered, wondering whether she needed him to stop or keep going, but she scrambled for his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I want to see you.”
His heart clenched in his chest as his hips stilled, panting for breath. The frantic kisses he pressed into the skin of her shoulder didn’t seem to be enough for her, because she pulled away, separating them so she might turn to face him.
With her hot and wanting mouth on his, Claude tumbled onto his back, barely managing to utter her name before she was sitting astride his hips, guiding his cock back inside her. The flex of her thighs drew her up, and he watched, utterly entranced, as she rode him.
Someday they would have the time to do this properly. Gods, he’d build her a palace all her own, drape the bed in the finest of silks and fill the room with all of her favorite flowers so they could breathe in the pleasant scents throughout their lovemaking. He’d fill the halls with the sounds of her pleasure from dawn until dusk, until her knees were weak and her every need was sated. What else was a poor bastard like him to do when in love with a literal goddess?
Toes curling, he pushed his head back into the pillows as he came hard enough to have his vision whiting out. By the time he’d managed to blink the stars from his vision, Byleth’s head was resting on his chest as her fingers combed pleasantly through his hair.
“Good?” she asked, a shy smile on her lips. He grunted tiredly in agreement, lips seeking out hers. There wasn’t enough time in the world for these languid kisses and adoring touches; already the outside world encroached on the small moment of bliss they’d stolen, and both of them knew it.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” she whispered, the words tinted with the very same longing he felt tugging at the core of his being.
With a genuine smile he teased, “This dingy old room? Really?”
She lightly flicked his chin as she chided, “You know what I meant.” Still, there was that light dancing in her eyes that he loved to see.
He softened as he palmed her cheek. “I know what you meant.” A lingering kiss. “And I feel the same.”
Nestling her head beneath his chin, she asked, “Will we tell the others?”
“I’m fairly certain Hilda won’t stop until she finds us out,” he said, chuckling under his breath.
“Just the Deer, then?”
“Yeah…” He kissed the top of her head, breathing her in as he did so. “I suppose a bit more truth wouldn’t hurt.”