abraxaslogs | i'm reaching for the clouds

[ 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.

[ Claude's immediate (internal) reaction to that is disgust. Sure, Seteth is probably someone's type somewhere, if one liked deeply uptight church officials, but both of those and all those other revelations he'd learned through the war solidly put the man in question far and away from ever being a possibility in this life or the next.

But. Never let it be said that Claude won't take a chance to be ornery whenever it's offering, and Sylvain has certainly provided him a particularly entertaining option.

Rather than letting any of that dislike show, he makes a show of taking a deep breath and turning his gaze down to the nearest plate with vague distress. There's also letting his hand in Sylvain's go still and staying silent to further double down on making this as believable as is required for entertainment's sake. ]

Geez, you've really found me out, haven't you. [ There's no small amount of distress in his voice when he looks up. Hilda would be proud of this performance. ] Sorry to say that if he ever gets summoned here, I'm just not sure I'll be able to contain myself. That's not a deal-breaker, is it?

[ He can still feel your amusement, Claude. Thank the goddess. He might have flipped the table.

But he just smirks in return, arching one eyebrow, and doesn't pull his hand away. ]

Oh, it'd definitely be a dealbreaker for him, sorry to say. My typical reputation back home sounds like a bucketload of compliments, compared to his opinion of me, so you might want to keep me your dirty secret if you hope to have a chance there.

[ At least that joke's an easy enough one to make. One he's gotten used to making. Even if the words are all true. Those usually make the best kinds of jokes anyway, in his case. The benefits of no one taking him seriously. ]

[ Unfortunately for Sylvain, one of those things he's figured out about the other? That list includes this: times where something's said as a joke, one they're both supposedly in on, and something he's certain he's supposed to laugh at as the expected reaction. All very funny, surely, except they'd both be faking any amusement in something else they both have experience with.

He's partially committed to this facade of deep Seteth related distress - for the next few moments, anyway - which conveniently gives him a cover to consider this. To pick apart those words for what's beneath them, in what Sylvain's saying while not saying and what matches something Sylvain's told him before now that he's mulling it over. ]

I hope you're not implying I have some kind of reputation to preserve here or anywhere else. [ So much for the act as he smooths his expression back out into something intentionally neutral to peer at Sylvain and that smirk, his tone implying this is something all rather benign and not a sore spot for one of them. Maybe both of them. ] Have you forgotten who you're talking to? You and I share the unique position of having traded number one and two positions in rumor mills often enough. That ship sailed a long time ago.

[ Sylvain just chuckles, glancing down at the plates now as he distracts himself from that pointed gaze by busying himself with several more bites of food. ]

Yeah, but your rumors made you sound mysterious and interesting. In fact, I'm pretty sure the mystery you built around yourself only helped your reputation, even if it didn't always seem like it.

[ His had been the opposite. But then, his reputation had always been carefully curated for far different reasons. ]

Uh huh.

[ Claude doesn't even attempt to make it sound like he buys that for a second. He does, however, resume drawing random shapes on Sylvain's wrist again mostly to help himself to think and possibly to hedge his bets about where those thoughts lead in setting a small trap.

He never has been able to resist pulling on a loose thread to see where it it leads. If Sylvain had intended for that to dissuade him in some way, it's not happening. Even if he has to give up a scrap of honesty in return. ]

I'm sure it could've seemed that way. Or, alternatively, it might've been because that was easier than countering any of what was said. Anything about that sound familiar?

[ Sylvain just shoots him an innocent (if slightly confused) look. Then he just shrugs. ]

Trying to counter all the rumors and gossip back there was a pointless and exhausting exercise. Better to spin it and use it to your advantage.

So, it is familiar.

[ He wasn't actually expecting to receive a 'yes' or a 'no' to that considering it'd be revealing too much, he's sure, but Claude's counting that as confirmation all the same. Someone who wasn't thinking that would've just said something about defending honor, or how petty idle chatter can be, or any number of things he'd heard suggested over the years.

Spoon still in hand, Claude readies another bite of the meat pie with all the calmness in the world. ]

Especially because there are advantages there, but only people using them think of that first. Everyone else just gets their feelings hurt by whatever's being said and goes right for the righteous indignation. Their loss on a good tactic, though learning to ignore it's easier said than done.

[ Sylvain just waves a fork dismissively at that. ]

It's hard to fall back on righteous indignation when they're right. [ He quips the words lightly, one corner of his lips quirking upwards. He stabs a bit of meat pie instead, still maintaining a mask of nonchalance, like he had learned to ignore all those rumors ages ago. Which... was partially true. He didn't care much about the words bandied about by strangers, that was always going to happen.

It was when they started being shared by people who weren't strangers that it got harder to ignore. ]

[ Something about that response presses a very specific series of buttons buried deep within Claude somewhere. There's a flash of some unnamed feeling, something maybe adjacent to that indignation he'd teased about a second ago, and yet - here it applies in a different context. He studies Sylvain while chewing his mouthful of food to think his response through from all angles, then shakes his head after he finishes it. ]

Just because people repeat something about you over and over doesn't mean they're right or anyone should believe it.

[ Even to his own ears his voice is too neutral, too even, too devoid of what he might make sound like a joke as he does with most things, were it anything else. But it's not, it's this, and he takes a sip of his mostly forgotten drink. Smile back in place, too, as this particular mask he's not letting go of. ]

But what do I know? Maybe the rumors these days are all about how you're a dashing valiant knight right off the pages of those Faerghan books. In which case, forget what I said. That's worth believing in that case since that's just obvious.

[ Claude's guessing about the evolution of rumors about Sylvain's reputation gets a soft but very derisive snort from him. ]

I think we both know that's very unlikely. [ Once gained, such reputations are near impossible to shake or change. He's long since resigned himself to that. ] Pretty sure we both know that I'd be a stain on 'valiant knights' as a whole and my membership invitation has been eternally revoked.

[ He doesn't sound all that broken up over it, at least? ]

But I can't say I hate the fact that no one knows who I am here. Or cares. It's refreshing.

[ There's a long pause after the first half of what's said on Claude's part. The impulse to argue it is there as always, possibly even more than usual because of the topic, the person, everything else - but. Sometimes it's worth choosing when to let the bulk of a disagreement go for now and this is one of them. In lieu of continuing to tug at a thread refusing to unravel, he just fixes a pointed look on Sylvain for a drawn out moment and then goes back to eating. ]

I had the same thought when I arrived. There's a lot of things about Fodlan that are - [ how to put this delicately - ] unfortunate, and getting away from that isn't a bad thing. Even with the rest of what's going on here it still gives us a chance to redefine ourselves.

[ Something he's assuming either Sylvain's saying in not so many words, or that the other man's about to have that same revelation if he hasn't already. One more important thing though, and for this he immediately frowns. For full effect, even if he doesn't mean the frowning part. ]

Way to sidestep my compliment, though. Don't think I don't have other ones up my sleeves especially since this dress very helpfully has voluminous ones.

[ Sylvain is still figuring out what 'redefining himself' entails, honestly. And he'd prefer to have a better idea of that before having to talk about it.

Which is why he sidesteps that topic entirely for the moment - kinda like the compliment Claude had accused him of. Which he still isn't really acknowledging. Instead, he just grins, fingers teasing against the inside of Claude's wrist once more. ]

Like that, huh? It also has pockets. I don't think you understand how hard a find that was. Hilda was very impressed.

[ He's supposed to be eating, but Claude has to stop to laugh at that. Don't think he didn't notice that there was yet another sidestep immediately after he'd pointed out the first one, but he'll ignore it for now. ]

I tried to give this dress to Hilda, you know. Now I'm just impressed she stayed strong in not taking it for herself with all this thought the two of you put into it. Or maybe you're just regretting not getting it for your own wardrobe?

[ And, because it's been a minute (or several) since he's last done this - time for some creative shifting around in his seat where he won't have to let go of Sylvain's hand while simultaneously stretching one leg in a too casual stretch before crossing it over the other again. Just because. Definitely no ulterior motives here. ]

Technically, this is your color.

[ Sylvain just grins at him, even though his gaze doesn't miss any of that. He is, however, at least pretending to be a gentleman tonight. Even if he is enjoying the tease for what it is.

Dress aside, Sylvain's finding his favorite part of the night might actually be Claude in those boots. ]

Oh, I bribed her with her own bottle of dye. [ he informs Claude impishly. ] Although I'm sure she wouldn't be opposed to accepting it after. Unless you like it enough to work it into your regular wardrobe, and then I'll have to find another way to soothe her disappointment. It will probably involve an ugly hat.

[ No one tell Hilda he insulted her sense of hat fashion. He likes living. ]

And while it is my color, the ruffles are on the wrong end. Alas.

[ As if that would be the only reason. ]

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