[He still doesn't believe he's beautiful. Handsome, he'd accept. Cute, even, sometimes. But beautiful? No, that's reserved for... people. Individuals where their actions and spirits match their aesthetics. Dedue is beautiful. Mercedes is beautiful. Byleth is beautiful.
Sylvain isn't.
So he's more than a little flustered, and he's about to just laugh it off and carry on, distract Dedue with further physical pleasure, but before he gets a chance to, Dedue is moving them, dropping him back onto the bed, looking down at him while Sylvain is sprawled haphazardly under him again and blushing even darker than before.
He can't even argue with the statement, because... it's what Dedue believes. It's not an objective fact. And even if he'd try, he's being kissed into silence before he can, so of course he kisses back just as intensely.]
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Sylvain isn't.
So he's more than a little flustered, and he's about to just laugh it off and carry on, distract Dedue with further physical pleasure, but before he gets a chance to, Dedue is moving them, dropping him back onto the bed, looking down at him while Sylvain is sprawled haphazardly under him again and blushing even darker than before.
He can't even argue with the statement, because... it's what Dedue believes. It's not an objective fact. And even if he'd try, he's being kissed into silence before he can, so of course he kisses back just as intensely.]