abraxaslogs | i'm reaching for the clouds

See? Utterly avoiding the feelings.

[ Thank you for proving his point. Actually, that was pretty predictable. Although he would never make the mistake of thinking Claude was ever boring.

But he just smirks when Claude's gaze sharpens, darkens a shade. He can literally feel the focus right now. And damn, but that's potent to have fixed on you. But he's no novice at this either. He just smiles, pleased and knowing, as he threads his fingers together in front of him and studies the man back. Watching for everything he's not showing right now. ]

But you're not wrong. You do love playing hard to get. I could offer to let you do the work, if you were picky about that sort of thing, but I wasn't sure you had the first idea of what to do.

[ Which is true enough. He actually had no idea what would have caught Claude's eye, back in school. But he was pretty sure it was a very short list and he wasn't on it. He's still not entirely sure that's changed, despite the words and looks and teasing they've exchanged since he'd arrived. He's not sure what Claude's game is, unless he just enjoys the tease of it. Which is entirely possible, he supposes. But it doesn't mean he's not curious. ]

[ That gets his smile to grow wider as he leans forward more over the table with his voice a little lower. ]

Then maybe you'd better start paying even closer attention because I'm not that hard to figure out. But then again, neither are you.

[ A partial truth. Claude is complicated in an intentional attempt to keep people out, leave them confused with whatever's constantly shifting beneath the evenness he projects, or something in between. But that hasn't dissuaded Sylvain, has it? And so those traps Claude usually sets have gradually had less teeth and more distance between them in a tacit agreement of letting Sylvain closer if he chose to follow the chase, and here they are. As for the part that was some honesty: in all that time together from being here, in all those playful back-and-forths, he's figured out some less visible certainties about the man sitting across from him.

They'll have to wait since the server once again has excellent timing and he sits up to make space for the plates because there's a few of them. It's a good thing the portions here aren't overly generous so it'll be manageable enough. What's set before them includes a fish stew with the addition of hot peppers, some variety of roasted bird with a sauce Claude hadn't recognized the ingredients to, something else that'd vaguely resembled a promise of the dining hall's wild game pie and seems to have delivered - a quiet showcasing of some of what he's learned (or relearned) about the other.

Well, and then there's a vegetable stir fry slathered in cheese which might lean more towards his own interests. Can't let Sylvain have all the fun, after all. ]

Alright, which one are we starting with first?

[ Sylvain's not sure it's actually possible to play any closer attention than he has been. Not that he's going to admit that to Claude either. He's pretty sure the man's ego is well-padded enough.

Although he can't help but chuckle at Claude tossing his words back at him. Yeah, he thought he wasn't all that hard to figure out either, but apparently he'd misjudged how much most people would think to look. When your facade worked a little too well, it wasn't always to your advantage. Sure it served its purpose when he'd needed it to, but realizing it had also worked on the people who were supposed to know him best... That had been a little harder to handle.

But he doesn't have time to think up a comeback because their server returns with a large tray of food, setting out each dish on the table before them. Sylvain's gaze flits from one option to the next, taking in what each one is - and what each of them resemble. Son of a bitch.

He doesn't say anything until the server departs and Claude sits there grinning at him with his typical ease. He jabs his fork in the other man's direction once more. ]

Now you're just trying to show off.

[ Because yeah. Each sample sitting before them resembled one of Sylvain's favorite dishes from back at the Monastery. Ones he'd never realized anyone had paid close enough attention to, to pick up on. ]

[ There's a lot of plates on the table.

And there's no point in pretending he's not watching for that reaction, is there? After all, one large reason in picking what he had off the menu was for this exactly. Whatever expressions flicker across Sylvain's face while looking at each dish as they register in turn - that's the whole point. By the time a fork's pointed his way once more, there's the inclination to laugh or grin even if he's already doing one of those.

Instead, he just widens his eyes in that too practiced innocent look which isn't fooling anyone. ]

Isn't that the whole point of a date?

[ Just a reminder that was Sylvain's own choice of words before he drops the act and waves his own fork a little haphazardly, but with actual intent this time rather than continuing to fidget since now there's more than an appetizer before them. ]

Anyway, if you're not going to choose something first then I'm going to because the pastry's not going to stay crisp on that forever.

I suppose it is.

[ His tone is unquestionably fond as he counters that statement, shaking his head. It's weird. Being on a date with someone he would actually want to impress. Or be impressed by. Claude always has surprises tucked up his sleeves, but Sylvain is still coming to terms with the fact that they're occasionally aimed at him. And not in a bad way. He's still not sure how he should take that. Or any of this.

Just add this to the list of times he really wishes Claude was an easier person to read. Maybe then he wouldn't feel quite so uncertain about what all this is. And as much as he would tease Claude about making him speechless... the other man tends to have the same effect on him at the most unexpected moments. Something Sylvain is very much not used to.

But for now he just hides that behind nudging the meat pie in Claude's direction so he can help himself, even as he ladles out a bowl of the stew to try. ]

Do I even want to know why you somehow remember what dishes I was fond of, back in school?

[ Breaking into the food before the person it was technically ordered for was a rather weak threat, but Claude's not going to think twice about it when what he's eying is pushed his way. A glance around the table reveals he should've thought about asking for a few extra empty plates for courtesy's sake, but all those times camping during the war made for not being very particular about sharing the same serving out of the same dish.

Still, the fork's likely not the best utensil here so he swaps it for his spoon and fishes out a bite from the edge to take a bite with zero caution. The steam really should've warned him since now he has to take a second to abandon table manners to roll it around his mouth to keep it from scalding him. He's got a cocky throwaway comment all ready for Sylvain just as soon as he finishes this bite which is roughly the temperature of Ailell, but - for once Claude thinks better of tossing it out there.

Instead as he gets another spoonful of pie ready, this time making sure to leave it to cool to avoid repeating the initial experience, he takes a second to think of a real answer with his eyes still on his spoon. ]

I spent a lot of time studying people at the academy since I never knew what might be useful out of what I learned. And I learned a lot of things, here and there, but not everyone got my equal attention. Some people were more interesting than others.

[ And that feels a little too close to admitting something, equivocal as it is. Sylvain might've been onto something about feelings since to avoid the tiniest flicker of anxiety well-hidden to anyone looking at expressions alone Claude puts on a thoughtful expression and adds, ] or the dining hall in the Horizon helped me out. Your choice.

[ He might have been more inclined to believe the latter, honestly, because that's just what he expected. But the faintest surge of emotion he'd picked up before Claude had blurted that out made him think otherwise. That the former was the truth and Claude was trying to cover it up.

He ponders that for a moment as he samples a bite of the stew and then steals a bit of the roast bird as he tries to figure out how to come back at that.

Which is how he ends up propping his chin in his hands and eyeing Claude curiously a moment later. ]

You musta been really subtle about it. Finding me that interesting back then, I mean. I was usually pretty aware of that sort of thing. [ Then again, he's pretty sure Claude's still trying to be subtle about it now unless he's reading into things too much. Which he does, on occasion, but the brief glimpses into Claude's emotions tonight are starting to make him doubt that. ]

[ This isn't always the kind of suspense Claude always enjoys being on this side of even if he's used to scrutiny for all kinds of reasons. Causing suspense for someone else and watching it play out? Absolutely. But sitting here studying the pie and being well aware of Sylvain fiddling with dishes while studying him is - different. Not in an unpleasant way if he takes a second for honesty with himself while leaning forward to prod a chunk of meat like it's somehow interesting, but that comment about sputtering continues to tug at the edges of his mind. It makes him feel as flighty as a grumpy lord or two have muttered before.

The wait for whatever will be said doesn't last that long in reality. Claude doesn't bother sitting up as he simply flashes Sylvain a highly amused look. ]

You're not the only one with your own set of tricks. Plus from what I remember, you were a little occupied back then. Maybe more than a little depending on the day.

[ Abandoning the pie temporarily to investigate the vegetables next since he has high hopes for the both the cheese and the amount of it, some of his amusement fades considering it can't all be pinned on Sylvain. There's something else important and something he's self-aware enough to admit as the stumbling block there.

Or here. ]

Then again, it's not like I was the easiest person to get to know either so that likely didn't help with any awareness.

You really do like playing your cards close to your chest.

[ Struggling to interpret that mix of emotion - and seriously, how does the guy have his own emotional language that's completely different from anyone else, this is ridiculous - Sylvain buys himself a moment behind a bite of bird. Which, to be fair, might actually be even better than the one served back at the Monastery, so it's more than a valid delay.

But if Claude can be self-aware, at least Sylvain can be honest in return. Even if that feels way scarier than showing up in public in a dress. He's pretty sure Claude still got the easy end of the deal here. ]

You know, you had me pretty convinced you never would have given me the time of day. That you were way out of my league. Which... Fair, you probably are. And I don't think I possessed a level of "occupied" back then that would have kept me from noticing that if you'd dropped any hints.

[ There's something that escapes him close to a laugh when his tendency towards secrecy is confirmed all over again, partially because it's muffled around a mouthful of vegetables and cheese and also because it's one he forces without really thinking about it. Practicing them for years helps with that. It does not, however, prepare him for Sylvain says next. It's a good thing he's already swallowed his food or he might have actually choked on it due to being caught off-guard.

Back to scrutinizing Sylvain for a stretch of silence as he extrapolates the past to the present. The other isn't kidding, what with none of those usual tells there, and it's not idle flattery either in the way of those lines they've tossed each other here and there for all the sake of laughter. Or... maybe that never was what Sylvain was doing. Maybe that was just an uncharitable assumption on his own part and made it too easy to pretend all he was doing was the same and nothing more.

This feels uncannily like the first time he stood on his wyvern's back and decided to trust she wouldn't send him plummeting. Whatever unknown ground this is still seems as volatile as a wyvern, somehow, and to where the next place to step may not be as sure of footing as it appears. You probably are. Suddenly he feels rather foolish for overlooking the obvious, but that's a feeling he can work with to make it less so. ]

Well. I'm here now, aren't I? And wearing a dress. [ Slight twitch of his mouth there because it's a good time to laugh and for real this time. But he doesn't, because that'd undermine the important part: ] Both because you asked.

Technically, you're here because you're really bad at saying no to bets and dares.

[ His lips are curved in faint amusement, however, not really able to argue the point he suspects Claude is trying to make. He pauses in between bites, wanting to get this out without interruption. Or before he talks himself out of it. ]

But you are here now, it's true. Asked or not. But you're still really good at playing your cards close to your chest. I never know if I should take what you say at face value or not.

Sylvain. If you think I wouldn't talk my way out of doing something I don't want to do all because of the honor of upholding bets or whatever else, think again. I never do anything I don't want to do.

[ Maybe a fair bit of mirth goes along with that because if that guess is right, it's wildly underestimating his usual desire to control an outcome and something else he's aware enough to admit. If asked. The dress - well. He absolutely hadn't wanted to do that at first, that's true. Then the epiphany of using it to mess with Sylvain hit him, then in reality that plan spiraled a bit for a different motivation than that, and here they are.

It's not really an answer to what Sylvain's said. There's parts missing to making it a complete one, but those pieces aren't ones Claude's willing to share yet even if he's certain that's part of what Sylvain's asking. There's still a chance of doing a little more prodding of his own first to get there. Or to show off the other side of that coin of doing what he wants - stubbornness - as he raises an eyebrow because what was said feels a bit like an incomplete thought if that's not merely hope alone. ]

Let me ask you this, then. Are you saying I should be taking what you're saying at face value?

[ Man, this being honest thing sucks. It's also kinda terrifying.

Far too used to brushing off such questions with platitudes or outrageous flirtations anyway, Sylvain has to actually stop himself from just giving the automatic answer here. Because he's pretty sure Claude would see through that in a heartbeat.

Besides. He's still not sure if he should brush this off. Sure, it'd be safer. But that's rarely stopped him in the past. And all the old rules he tended to live by... no longer applied here. ]

Maybe I am saying that. [ Goddess. Had he actually just admitted that? Out loud, even? ] Maybe I wanted you here tonight regardless of a bet to get you here.

[ He needs way more alcohol to deal with this conversation already and it's barely started. Then again, with his luck, he's also expecting it to be over before it begins. Which is why he staves off any other words behind a deep swallow of ale. He doesn't even bother trying to play this one cool. There's no way, it's too late. He's clearly an idiot. ]

[ Some part of him doesn't expect honesty here. After all, it's not like Claude is offering any in anything other than a crumb of it here and there. All placed along a deliberate trail, but it's one either of them could walk away from. Best to always leave an out to keep expectations low, and that goes for both what's offered and what's asked for.

So when Sylvain doesn't take the obvious escape route, Claude's startled even if the only outward sign of it is a blink. A brief one and barely a flicker before he's appraising the other again and without bothering to hide it - not that it's needed since there's a mug conveniently blocking any eye contact or most of it. After a moment Claude has to look down at his plate with his mouth pursed to one side in a poor attempt to suppress a smile since it's not to tease while it threatens to outdo his usual ability to keep an even expression. Not at Sylvain's expense, no; he's trying to temper being delighted even if Sylvain seems to be drowning himself in ale before he's said anything in response.

Because he wasn't imagining it, this, or anything else. ]

Then maybe you should have kissed me in Nocwich when you were thinking about it. [ Don't think he's forgotten about that. Claude looks up without bothering to hide that smile now any longer. ] And then you wouldn't have had to go to such elaborate lengths to get me here tonight, though I still think suspense worked out in my favor then and now.

[ Sylvain's eyebrows wing upwards in surprise as his mug of ale thuds back to the top of the table, sloshing a little inside it.

He... hadn't expected Claude to still remember that, actually. Which is silly, because apparently Claude remembers everything, even inconsequential things from half a decade ago. ]

What did... Are you fucking with me right now?

[ Look. That's an honest question and he feels it's very warranted. ]

Edited 2023-02-16 01:35 (UTC)

[ It might be warranted but that's not going to stop Claude from sending an unimpressed look across the table as his first reaction. That ends up being more like an attempt at one considering there's no small amount of mirth behind it. ]

Careful, now I'm just offended you think I wouldn't come up with something far more elaborate if that's what I was trying to do.

[ A little too late it occurs to Claude that setting up a months-long campaign of some kind to do just that does sound like something he'd try out for any number of reasons, so - maybe lightly teasing Sylvain here isn't the best choice. Besides that, the slivers of honesty he's been granted are nothing to risk accidentally losing and he sets his spoon down to look at Sylvain rather seriously. ]

But to actually answer your question: no, I'm not.

[ That actually sounds like exactly something Claude would do, hence his question. That, and it's far more believable that Claude is doing this for his own amusement, rather than any real interest. Which is why he's so startled in the first place.

Although that makes this whole thing sound less like "Claude was bored" and more like the longest and strangest bout of foreplay Sylvain's ever heard of. Nocwich was moons ago.

That and the idea that Claude isn't just fucking with him is a lot to wrap his head around, despite the fact that they're here. On a dinner date. Hypocritical of him, he knows, but still true. ]

I really assumed you had better taste than that, honestly.

[ He tries to keep his tone light, but his brain is spiraling a little, suddenly trying to reassess conversations going back weeks now.

He... doesn't actually know what he's supposed to do with Claude telling the truth. ]

[ The more he watches Sylvain process this, the more puzzled he starts to feel little by little. Claude had expected something smug, some cheeky commentary, or anything else which could fall in between. Something to match more of what they've tossed back and forth over the past months, if nothing else. Something predictable but in a comforting way like any easy routine is where the one they've developed is no exception. Then again - he's also learned there's much he couldn't have ever predicted about Sylvain.

What wasn't on that list of potential responses is something that feels oddly close to self-deprecation if he squints at it, even if it matches an earlier comment, and now it's his turn to feel something adjacent to uncertain. ]

Don't sell yourself so short, Gautier.

[ Self-preservation's waiting to kick in but Claude doesn't surrender to it yet even though he isn't entirely sure what to do with... whatever this reaction means. There's too much context missing for him to read it properly, he thinks, and there's been a lot of maybes said aloud between them both.

And he's no stranger to sweeping something aside to right a situation when all else fails and so he does just that, readying to put a wall back up as he fixes a smile into place and picks up the spoon he'd set down seconds ago to keep eating. ]

I have to say I kind of expected you to be gloating right now, but you look a lot more like I told you one of these dishes is poisonous but not which.

[ Sylvain just. Rubs a hand over his face, still flustered.

It's not that he was selling himself short, he just so rarely expected anyone to actually be paying attention to him. Sure, he was used to being pursued for a number of reasons - his wealth, his position, his Crest. None of them had anything to do with him, and with all those things nonexistent here... Well. He doubted those mattered all that much to Claude anyway since he had all those things and more.

But he's also not ready to let Claude go back to hiding behind that mask of his, where the emotions he showed were not the ones he felt. He might not know how to deal with this level of honesty just yet but he did know he didn't want to fuck this up, either. ]

That would imply you told me something unpleasant, not something just very unexpected. [ He casts Claude a look over the table, maintaining eye contact now. ] I guess I'm just more used to friends tolerating my flirting and then dismissing it immediately as just that. And I've always been careful not to cross a line when it came to people I actually liked.

[ Not stated is the fact that he'd so very rarely even approached a true flirtation with someone he actually liked. It was used instead as a shield, or a means to an end. Despite Sylvain's reputation with women - and more - he'd very rarely actually pursued anything with anyone within school grounds. There was a reason for that. ]

[ Well - it counts for something that Sylvain finally looks up, and he has to assume that's a good sign. Claude just calmly takes another bite of food like he was about to do anyway and listens. And watches as he's so often done for all the tells someone might give, and checks them against the list he's kept of the other man's. Some part of him is still ready to metaphorically flee, so it takes a second for what he's told to sink in. When it does, he stops chewing and blinks.

Wait. Give him a second to do the math on that as more parts of the equation are revealed. ]

I can't decide if I should tease you first for being shy or for admitting you're overlooking something obvious.

[ No, teasing really isn't the answer here. Claude's also well aware that shy isn't what's being described whatsoever, but for as much as he wants to know answers he also knows when to not prod a sore spot. Pressing on it would be a recipe for Sylvain spontaneously developing a spell to make the floor envelop him in seconds flat. That becomes doubly true when what's revealed is a bruise from something, somewhere, and origins still unknown but one Claude feels as an echo resonating within in him all the same.

And in reality, that's the extent of his teasing because it's with a fond smile he extends a hand out halfway across the table to let it rest against the tabletop palm up and waiting. ]

Let me be a lot clearer then. There is no line. Or, well, [ because that's not honest, is it - ] before you interrupt me to point it out, there's other lines, but this particular one? You're the only one keeping yourself on the other side of it now.

I'm not shy.

[ The level of insult huffed in that one word is accompanied by a very emphatic eyeroll, even if it is all in play.

But a moment later, Claude is reaching a hand across the table and rests it there in the middle, his palm up. And Sylvain just stares at it for a heartbeat. Two.

Then his gaze flits up to meet Claude's again, fingers twitching, but he hesitates, even though it's clear he's wanting to reach back. There's the fear of how much this could blow up in his face. Especially because this is a friendship he can't bear to lose, not if this goes sideways. Not here, of all places. But that smile is softer than he expected. And he knows by now that Claude doesn't offer such things without having already thought out every angle, every possibility. Every risk.

Swallowing, he takes a soft breath before reaching out to brush his fingertips over Claude's palm, feeling the heat of his skin beneath calloused fingertips. ]

I think you underestimate my spectacular ability to somehow find and stumble over lines you never even realized were there.

[ Maybe that smile on his face turns a bit knowing when Sylvain takes light offense to shy like it's a deeply personal insult. He could run with that and probably would have if it wasn't for the clear hesitation which follows. Whatever Sylvain's struggling with, what it is precisely: he hasn't the faintest idea.

But Claude is patient and more importantly willing to wait; it's a key part of enacting a plan, a strategy scrutinized from all possible angles, and now is no exception. Not when Sylvain finally does move like he half expects to get his hand slapped for accepting an invitation freely given, and so when fingers trail over his offered hand he continues to wait to see if the other plans to withdraw after, find a firmer grasp, whatever will happen. He'll wait however long it takes until it's clear this is an offering and not a trap. ]

On the contrary, maybe I'm counting on that. Or maybe I've already accounted for it, who knows. But what's worse here, stumbling over one accidentally or never finding out what they are in the first place? [ A beat while he thinks about his own words goes by. ] That last one might be more applicable to me, but I still stand by it.

[ Claude doesn't pull away, just waits him out. And Sylvain feels silly for the sudden sense of skittishness that had washed over him, especially in a situation like this. Claude was going to think he was crazy.

Pushing away the lingering sense of uncertainty he rarely let show, he instead rests his palm over Claude's, his fingers sliding up to brush over the inside of his wrist now. ]

I'm pretty sure the answer to that is supposed to come from you anyway, you realize. [ They'd most like be his lines, anyway.

Trying to summon up some of that smugness Claude had expected from him in the first place, he casts him a crooked grin, even if dark eyes are searching his face, trying to read his expression. ] Are you trying to tell me you've been harboring an actual crush on me all this time?

[ At least joking about it gives him a moment to try and drag his actual thoughts back under control. ]

[ It only takes a little bit longer before Sylvain makes a choice. A hand rests on his rather decisively and if Claude wasn't already smiling: that would've done it. As for that first part of what's said he just hums in response, far more concerned with shifting his hand only enough to be able to curl both his ring and little fingers around Sylvain's thumb to keep the other's hand right there while stretching his other ones to draw abstract shapes along Sylvain's wrist. A tentative move, in a way, but given the sort of lack of answer about lines he's not going to push them. For now.

For show - and because he picked up on Sylvain shifting the topic away to something pointed less directly at him as that grin appears - Claude puts on a look of deep contemplation, studying the ceiling above them as he 'thinks' for maximum effect. ]

Hm, I suppose that's one way to put it. [ Never mind that it's as good as saying yes in far more words than a simple answer would've been and Sylvain's going to see right through that for what it is as he looks back down. Time for a different tactic since absolutely none of this means he's going to stop pushing the other's buttons any time soon. ] If that means you're about to look scandalized like Seteth hearing someone say the hymns he picks are boring all over again, I'm sorry to tell you it's not gonna make you any less endearing. But you'll still rank above Seteth, in case you were wondering.

I feel like 'ranking above Seteth' isn't actually that difficult of an achievement.

[ Just saying.

But Claude also hadn't said no to his accusation, which was interesting on a multitude of levels. He keeps his fingers tangled against Claude's, maintaining the contact. Enjoying the slide of fingertips against the inside of his wrist.

It was official. Tonight was not going at all like he'd expected. But he wasn't exactly disappointed by that, either. ]

Unless, of course, you've been harboring a secret crush on him all this time too, and then I have to sincerely reassess my opinion of your taste in anything.

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