crestfallenfor | IC Inbox for Prismatica

šψﾚ∀αïη, ςα▓ ψ⊕u šε▓ mε?

[ Hint: he's right behind him. He's trying to test the limits of his ghost form, though he's sure if Sylvain could actually see him, he would have reacted. ]

[Yeah, definitely can't see him. Can puzzle out the message, though, which has him immediately looking around.]

Who's there? How'd you get in here, anyway?

[He might not be scared of ghosts, but it's still unsettling to have a mystery person suddenly announce their presence in your apartment.]

pr⊕ƒεš▓⊕r ßψﾚε†▓ š†αηdïηg ßεhïηd ψ▓u

[ He's just going to try and poke him, though his finger slides through his back a bit. He's not sure if Sylvain can feel any of that. ]

[He absolutely feels something after reading that Byleth is behind him, though the sensation is... strange. Cold, uncanny, like there was something of a minor chroma drain more than any real contact.

So he turns to "face" Byleth and brings a hand up to where his shoulder ought to be.

There's that weird sensation again.]

How'd you get into this mess, Professor?

[ His body reacts surprisingly, the touch registering across nerve endings that should be separated by the plane between the living and the dead. Yet he can feel some of Sylvain's body heat threading its way along his shoulder before he uses the device to continue to "talk." ]

†hεrε ωαš α Ωuεš†ï⊕▓ ï ς⊕uﾚdη'† αηšωε▓ ωhïﾚε pﾚαψïηg †hε gαmε. ï dïd η⊕† κη⊕ω †hε †ru†▓

αrε ψ⊕▓ ßušψ?

[ He's well aware this isn't the best time nor place to visit him, but there are worse places Sylvain could have been. ]

[There are much worse places he could have been, and while, yes, he'd prefer it if Byleth had asked before just letting himself in, he also understands that that's... not really possible right now.

Not that he'd ever be unwelcome.]

I see...

[He'd had to play the game, once, and seeing that this was the consequence of not answering... well.

It makes him glad that his own answer had been satisfactory enough.]

I'm not busy. How can I help you?

[ He hadn't thought that far ahead really. He's still reeling over the shock that his messages had gone through, so he does go silent for a little bit. It's not as though he has any deep insight into his current condition, but he'd very much like not to be see-through at the moment.

Maybe it's best to just admit the truth- ]

ï d⊕η'▓ κη⊕ω h▓ ω †⊕ uηd⊕ †hïš

[ But if he can still feel, then he's not completely dead. His hand tries to touch grasp Sylvain's, not entirely passing through like something without physical form would. ]

did ψ⊕u ƒ▓▓▓ mψ hαηd

Probably chroma, like everything else here, then.

[At least that makes sense to him - and makes sense as to why Byleth can still kind of communicate, and kind of make contact, even if he's invisible.

Sure, it makes chroma generation inconvenient at best, but... if some inconvenience is all they have to go through to drag him back to the realm of the... living? Existing? Then it could very much be worse.

The not-quite sensation that he can only assume is from contact with Byleth is still odd, though.]

Yeah, I did. I still can't see you, but I can feel that you're here.

[ That was his first guess as well, but he's still reeling over the last time they had generated chroma together. Granted, back then, he'd lost complete control of himself because of Sylvain's transformation, something he doesn't have the benefit of now. He's very much in control which makes it all the harder to try and engage him.

He debates internally with himself for a moment before realizing his options aren't exactly overflowing here. He wishes this was easier for the both of them. ]

ï h▓∀ε α rεΩ▓εš†

[ His hand shifts to Sylvain's, flipping it palm side up as carefully as he can manage before wrapping both sets of fingers around it to feel the chroma edging its way inside of him. He tries speaking this time slow and clear against his ear to see if he'll hear him- ]

Can you share your chroma with me?

[He's right, in that it would be much, much easier if one - or both - of them had some outside force being exerted on them that a loss of control was a viable excuse. They don't have such a luxury, and it doesn't occur to Sylvain, because he still wasn't really wholly aware of the fact that Byleth was compromised the last time.

In some ways, that makes this time easier. There's no reason to fight with himself over whether he should or should not do what needs to be done to assist.]

Of course I can, Professor.

[He could call Dimitri over - perhaps he should, and should step out, so the two of them can sort this out, but... Byleth, for whatever reason, had come to him. They'd exchanged enough chroma that he can hear Byleth's voice - even if it does come across as just a whisper in his ear. And he can faintly feel two hands on his, now.

It would be too cruel of him to not set aside any lingering negative feelings to help with this.]

[ It's still awkward to know where and how to proceed, fingers remaining static on Sylvain's hand before he dares to venture any further. It should be easier -they both have enough experience with one another by now- but he thinks Sylvain may still be harboring some troubled thoughts about it even if he hasn't said as much. Byleth had pointedly avoided talking about it himself to stave off embarrassment for the both of them, but it's getting to the point where they really can't keep it in.

He starts to edge his way slowly around Sylvain's body as he mulls it over, definitely thinking he should focus on giving himself a physical form first, but he can't quite quell his unease. Fortunately, whatever contact they're engaging in is rapidly improving his state. He can feel the heat wafting from Sylvain's back as he embraces him from behind, arms moving around his chest and waist while hoping it's enough.

His mouth tips back up towards his ear to keep talking against it slowly- ]

Don't be scared. It's still me.

[ He knows it must feel rather strange to be touched by something he can't see at the moment, but there's nothing he can do about it now. ]

I never said sorry. For what I did. Are you still upset?

[Of course he can keep it in - but then again Sylvain is the master of taking his thoughts and emotions on uncomfortable issues and pushing them down and away, pretending they don't matter, even when they very, very much do. It makes it easier to get by, as far as he's concerned, and, more importantly, it ensures no one asks uncomfortable questions.

Unfortunately, that's a little bit difficult at the moment. If he could see Byleth, or feel him in measures more than the lightest ghost of a touch, then he could take the lead, could come on strongly enough that they'd exchange the amount of chroma necessary to get him a more solid body, at least, and then let him decide what he wants to do. But that's not the case. Byleth has the distinct advantage of being able to both see and touch him where he can't reciprocate easily.

At least he can be receptive to touch. That's better than nothing.]

Don't worry, Professor. I'm not scared of you, and I'm less scared of ghosts. Do what you need to do.

[He knows he's here. Touch from nowhere isn't concerning, strange as it might be.

What is concerning is the comment that follows.]

What's there to apologize for? I can't recall being upset with you recently.

[He sounds genuine enough, at least... because, in many ways, he is. He has an idea of what Byleth is talking about, but... it had been a nonissue at the time, and it was even less of an issue now.]

[ His form isn't returning to him quickly enough as he continues to flicker in and out, his touch fading away with his instability. It makes it difficult to confront any pressing issues, especially when the guilt still weighs heavily against the bottom of his stomach, and he knows the solution is within literal reach. He just has to convince himself that Sylvain really doesn't mind.

His fingers sit poised against Sylvain's stomach, lightly drawing around his navel as he at least tries to elicit enough chroma from Sylvain so he can absorb it into himself which isn't easy when his hands keep dipping through his flesh instead of resting on top of it. ]

Last time. I kissed you.

[ He did a lot more than that, but Sylvain doesn't need a detailed recounting. ]

I told Dimitri. He understood, but I am still uneasy about it.

[ His hands unconsciously tighten around him as he remembers everything that had happened since then. Hearing the truth about everything from Rhea had left him rather scattered, and he's still trying to parse through his own feelings on all of it, but too many circumstances continue to catch him off-guard here.

He drops his forehead to spot between Sylvain's shoulder blades and releases an unsteady breath. Better to focus on the present. He needs to fix this problem first. ]

You're important to him and he to you.

[ The last thing he wants is to complicate any of that, though he knows Dimitri feels more than just friendship towards Sylvain, and perhaps, it's the same from Sylvain towards Dimitri. ]

[He really doesn't mind. He also suspects the hesitance is because Byleth is unsure of that fact, but... given how often he lied about his mental state to Byleth and everyone else, he knows saying as much again won't do much good. Byleth will have to come to that conclusion himself, or decide that regaining a corporeal form is more important than Sylvain's feelings on the issue - another point he'd rely on himself, if he did mind.

The touch is still light. Byleth still occasionally slips through him. He's left to stand there more than willing to assist, but unable to contribute with a returning touch until Byleth is more solid. It's concerning, to say the least, because who could say if he'd disappear entirely any moment?]

If it would put you at ease, I will not pursue him, even here, but I likewise won't deny him.

[And that's the best he can offer him. He's correct - 'important' does not begin to cover the depth of feelings he has towards Dimitri, and he couldn't reject anything he would ever ask of him, even if he wanted to. He doesn't want to.]

...And the same goes for you, Professor. Just... let me know what you want from me.

[Sure, it'll hurt, if he tells him to keep them at arm's length or further, but... if he's honest with himself, he loves them, so their happiness is much more important than his own.]

Maybe... wait until you've got your body back to decide, though, hm?

[He can't be all that helpful once Byleth starts being a little more corporeal if he feels guilty about reaching out and touching him, after all.]

[ Byleth shakes his head fast before he realizes Sylvain probably can't see the motion. He'll have to be more vocal here as he tries to ease both their minds, something that doesn't always come simply to him. ]

I want you to pursue him. If you desire it, and if he does -both your happiness is important to me.

[ He moves around Sylvain so he can face him more properly, cool hands cupped around his cheeks as he tries to meet his stare. He knows he's still wildly flicking in and out of being corporeal, but he can only do so much to speed up the process. Well, he can think of more that they can do, but he's desperately trying not to as the temptation had gripped him so steadfast last time that he's afraid to lose control once more. ]

There are things you can do and give him that I can't.

[ Byleth is well aware of his limitations, though he's working on being warmer towards those he cares about. It doesn't always come to him, and Sylvain is naturally playful and affectionate. He also has the charisma to get Dimitri to lower his guard and smile more often. Maybe he's the one who should be more envious because of that, but he doesn't want Sylvain to think there should ever be anything falling in the way of what his heart wants.

Knowing what he knows about himself, he's not even sure if Dimitri will accept the truth of their situation, but he's trying not to dwell on it as he moves his hands down Sylvain's neck and over his shoulders before embracing him close once more, letting the heat of his body seep into his. They'll cross that bridge when they get to it. ]

I think he'd like that very much, so you don't have to worry.

[He might not be able to see Byleth shake his head, but whether because of the spike of emotion accompanying the action, or the speed of it, or simply because he's slightly more corporeal at the moment of it by some stroke of luck, he can feel it. It's somewhat reassuring, too, when he didn't even know he wanted that reassurance.]

What I want doesn't matter, Professor.

[It's a bit more raw, honest, than he meant to say, but there's something of a bolstering effect from that same reassurance that prompts him to speak up, even as he does lean in to those hands on his cheeks, and does take advantage of one of those moments where Byleth is more corporeal to set his hands on his waist.

There is more he could do - there's more they both could do - but given the tone of their conversation, even he's hesitant to push further.]

But... comparing us is a bit unfair, isn't it? To everyone?

[Yes, there are things he can do and give Dimitri that Byleth can't, but the same is true in reverse. And besides all that - Dimitri isn't even present to speak of his own opinions, his own feelings on the matter.

So he's envious of what they have, yes, but he also knows for certain that his desire to see them both happy - with or without his own bright, playful charm in the mix - is most important right now.]

...I'll try not to worry, though. Thank you, Professor.

[And there's that reassurance again - bolstered by further physical affection. He really can't help but sigh as cold, ghostly hands drag over his neck, shoulders, as Byleth embraces him more warmly than, perhaps, he deserves.

Of course he returns it, lets his hands slide back from Byleth's waist to hold him as tight as his barely corporeal form will allow.]

You still haven't told me what you'd like. Ah- but if I'm going to be pursuing him, I'd like to pursue you, too, you know.

[Finally, his tone shifts to something a little more normal, a little more playful and flirtatious. And why not? He sees little reason to exclude Byleth from whatever builds between himself and Dimitri - not when they're all in this odd place together.]

[ That's a little more like the Sylvain he's used to, enough to ease him out of the tense atmosphere into something else, though Byleth is always aware he's treading a little blindly through his own desire around him. Relief he understands well enough, and he knows Sylvain does, too. The simple pluck of a bow string until it's just about to tear before it's released. Nothing can compare to that feeling.

But love and intimacy are still a little beyond his grasp, even if he's learning more and more. Maybe he can even fool himself into thinking he's always known how to show it, especially when it comes natural during situations like these with Sylvain's arms offering the kind of heat he could sink into for eternity.

The embrace brings more life to his flesh, causing his form to stop flickering and making it all the easier to slide his arms around Sylvain in return, feeling the muscles stretched tightly across his back and the press of his hip bones against his own. He can even smell the unquestionable aroma that's pure Sylvain and none of the overpowering scent that held him captive last time.

He's fully aware of himself and his actions, though that in itself has its dangers because he doesn't exactly mind Sylvain's touch either way. It's unquestionably -undeniably- addictive, a thought he's trying to banish quickly even if he's not stopping himself from inhaling him in one breath.

Maybe in another timeline, another universe, maybe if he wore another form, another face, he could have fallen for him just as easily... ]

What do you hope to find if you catch me in your pursuit?

[ The words are quiet as Byleth's hands sneak beneath Sylvain's shirt, crawling beneath the fabric to push against flesh, feeling body heat coat his own fingertips. ]

Or do you say those things hoping to be rejected?

[ Sylvain has always been a mess of contradictions, but Byleth isn't. If he invited someone in, he'd mean absolutely for them to follow. ]

[If he's honest - which he rarely will be - love and intimacy are a little beyond Sylvain's grasp, too. He knows what they look like, how to fake it. He allows himself to indulge in real, genuine intimacy from time to time with people he cares for, and love...

Well, he doesn't think he deserves it, but that's a separate issue entirely.

One that doesn't matter when Byleth seems to be growing warmer and more solid by the moment. It's oddly calming, to feel his hipbones pressing into his - slotting together nicely from their simple height difference - and to feel his hands running over his back. It's proof positive that what little he's able to do is actually helping, that Byleth is being brought back little by little.

He almost wishes it wasn't so effective, so he could hold him like this a little longer.]

Heh... maybe I do.

[He's honestly expecting a rejection - and he'd deserve one, too.

But Byleth's hands are sliding under his shirt instead, and that's so unexpected it sends a shiver through him from the point of contact.

His reactions are honest, even if he finds it difficult for his words to be.]

But if not... I'm sure you can guess, right, Professor?

[ Ambiguity is a dangerous trait, and Byleth is aware he should tread more carefully about what they're doing -what he's feeling at the moment. It's hard to call it lust alone because there are layers of admiration and affection woven in between, and without the veil of the moonblessings around him, he has no real excuse for why he's doing this. Maybe it's simply the outcome of two unquestionably lonely and scared people caught in a tight space with one another.

He hadn't quite admitted to himself up until now that he's even afraid of death when he's faced it so many times before -the literal death knight on a horse and the figurative one giving him one too many close calls for comfort. However, to die in battle has its honor. He'd have at least known he died protecting those he loved. To die unceremoniously from a game he doesn't understand is... not how he expected to go.

Both hands crawl a little higher to distract himself from those thoughts, anchoring himself back in the world of the living through the warmth of Sylvain's skin against his fingers. His fingers then start to knead inwards towards his spine as he feels himself grow solid enough to register the whisper of breath against his hair and Sylvain's unclouded scent. ]

I'm not rejecting you.

[ He doesn't think he ever could, as close as they've grown in this world and in theirs. He's always been drawn to the Sylvain hidden beneath several layers of flirtatious pretense. The anguish, the pain, the cynicism... if he answered Sylvain's question honestly, he'd simply say: ]

I want to know more of you. In any way you'd let me.

[ A pause as he raises eyes to meet Sylvain's, purposefully leaning in close. ]

Do you reject me?

[Sylvain would like to call it lust alone. It would be so much easier if that were the case - Byleth is handsome, someone he'd gladly go to bed with, but if it was a case of simple lust, that would be it. It isn't. It's far too late for that to be the case. It was too late for that to be the case before the assault on Garreg Mach.

He'd like to say it's the outcome of this "game", too - that they're obligated to do this for the Professor's own well-being, but that isn't the case, either. If it was, then he would have called Dimitri and been done with it.

Byleth's hands climb higher over his back, his touch becomes more solid, and he very resolutely does not reject Sylvain - or the idea of him making advances on him in the future. It's all a bit overwhelming, and while it doesn't call a blush to his cheeks, he does stop short a bit, surprised.

He'd expected a rejection. He'd expected some condition if not - like he could only pursue Byleth if Dimitri was also present, or he could only have him when circumstances demanded they should - like now, or like when the moons overtook them.

Not this.]

Of course I don't reject you, Professor. I could never...

[And now the blush sets in - he could never reject him, he could never deny him whatever he could possibly want, he fully intends to pursue him in some way in the future... He's not sure how to handle all this, but it's exciting, in a way.]

[ The reaction is unexpected, especially since the times where Sylvain shows some vulnerability are few and far between. It's actually rather refreshing to seem him be the one getting flustered instead of causing the reaction in others, though Byleth isn't sure if he said or did anything to cause it. Maybe simply being honest about his own feelings was more than Sylvain could take. Who knows?

His own expression crinkles slightly, lips turned up at the edges as he cups Sylvain's cheek. ]

Cute.

[ It's a quiet admission that slips free even if he's not sure how much Sylvain can see or hear of him, though his form is steadily growing more stable, enough that he thinks Sylvain can feel the warmth of his palm. His fingers drift a little lower, cupping the back of his neck to push Sylvain's face downwards until their lips touch. It's a whisper of a kiss, not unlike his voice just now, still full of slight hesitation and uncertainty, but he likes the nervous tension running through his veins, steadily giving him the life that had been robbed from him through that app.

His fingers wind around the hair at the nape of his neck, stroking the patch of skin beneath as he pulls away, still entranced by the way Sylvain looks right now -far younger than he had moments ago. Far more alluring. ]

Follow me.

[ His hand motions to Sylvain as he leads him towards the bed, a silent invitation laden in the simple gesture, one he doesn't know if Sylvain will commit to wholeheartedly. Maybe he's simply not used to being pursued with sincerity yet. ]

[Byleth is right - it's the honesty that gets to him, because he's not used to that kind of sincerity. Almost everyone else had some kind of ulterior motive to their "feelings" for him, but Byleth... didn't. It makes his words and actions impossible to brush off.

Still, he leans into the hand on his cheek, even as he blushes a shade darker at him calling him cute. Is he? Really? He's not so sure about that...

But if the casual affection is what's causing Byleth to steadily become more solid, then so be it. He can endure being flustered, if his dear Professor is the one doing the flustering, he decides.

So he kisses back as best as he's able to. The contact still feels like a ghost of what ought to be, but... that's fine. There will be more and more as time goes on, if what they've already accomplished is anything to go by.

But then Byleth pulls away and Sylvain is... confused, but only for a moment, only until he's beckoned towards the bed.]

Forward, aren't you, Professor?

[He's not used to being pursued with sincerity - at all - so he meets it with light teasing. Is the reaction appropriate? He's not entirely sure, but it's what came naturally, so it's all he has to go on.

Even so - he does still follow Byleth to the bed.]

[ More like he's being direct since he's not the type to mince words or go through any long-winded courtships. Some prefer the thrill of the chase, but Byleth prefers simply taking what he can get when it's right before him, unwilling to chance the missed opportunity. Tomorrow they could return to their world, and what little selfishness he possesses dictates that he enjoy what could be one last dance between them or one of many. It's difficult to tell with the nature of this world and the fact that their hearts lead them in other directions regardless of whatever attraction stirs between them.

With that in mind, he follows Sylvain to the bed's edge, his form still flickering in and out, something he hopes to rectify as he pushes his former student down, hands carding through his hair and his body weight shifting over the bed as he slides a knee between Sylvain's legs. He's not solid enough to apply enough pressure like he wants, but he will worry about that after as he chases after Sylvain's mouth, pushes their lips together like it's all he needs to subsist. Given his current situation, that's not far from the truth.

He's not sure what he himself tastes like on the cusp of death, but Sylvain's mouth is always unbearably rich, something strong and fragrant in his breath that makes him slide his tongue into his mouth to taste more, a quiet groan loosened from the contact. His hands tighten around his hair, pulling slightly before he forces them to move down his neck, over his chest, across the smooth planes of his stomach so he can unfasten his shirt from his pants and push it up, feeling the heated flesh and firm muscle underneath.

When he breaks the kiss, he's already breathing faster than normal, eyes zeroed in on Sylvain's reaction, trying to follow the flush painted over him as though he could stubbornly memorize exactly how beautiful he looks when he's vulnerable. ]

Do you mind? I can slow down.

[ But need is driving him in more ways than one as he starts undoing each button on Sylvain's shirt, uncertain if Sylvain will continue to allow him the liberty. ]

[He's always known Byleth to be direct. That much isn't new, or even much of a surprise. To have that directness turned towards pursuing him, though, is. Though it does make sense. Tomorrow they could return to their world, and could forget about this place entirely. If they don't forget, then they would likely have to set the memories aside and leave whatever went on between them here. It would already be a stretch for Byleth to be with Dimitri at home, for him to be with multiple members of his first class would be... much more than the stuffy nobles of Fodlan could handle.

Directness aside, he isn't anticipating being pushed down to the bed, Byleth's slight, barely corporeal weight shifting over him hands thoroughly mussing his hair as he kisses back readily without any hesitation.

Byleth doesn't taste much different on the cusp of death than he does in life - though his taste is muted, somewhat, as faded as his form is. In some ways, that's incentive enough to have him kissing back more deeply, to taste more of him as hands drag down his body and then back up again, taking his shirt with them.

And then the kiss breaks, and Byleth is looking down on him, taking in what he looks like flustered and, almost overwhelmed. His hair is mussed, there's a dark flush on his cheeks, his lips are reddened and wet from the kiss, and he's panting, to say nothing of how his clothing is as mussed as his hair, now.]

Why would I mind, Professor?

[He tries to put on his usual airs of confidence, tries to smirk up at him - to minimal effect. He's still more than eager, clearly, but any sharpness that might have been there normally is muted by the vulnerability he's allowing himself to show.]

[ Such a Sylvain thing to say, but Byleth often gets tangled up in how often Sylvain's words and actions don't always line up. However, he doesn't think that's the case now, watching Sylvain's body respond to him eagerly, the quickened rise of his chest and the hardness pressed against his own leg, growing ever more pronounced as Byleth's hands move down the length of Sylvain's bared stomach. There is already damp sweat gathered between his muscles, the likes of which he smears lightly with his fingers before he pops open the enclosure on Sylvain's pants. ]

I don't know.

[ It's as honest of an answer he can give him. He doesn't know why he's second-guessing himself so much. Maybe because he thinks there is something unnatural in loving one man and desiring another. Maybe it's because he doesn't know where the lines between affection and desire begin and end for the two of them. Maybe it's because before becoming a teacher, he would have done this without a second thought and not have bothered to consider the ramifications. It would have been pure simple release. A satisfying scratch to an aching itch.

But that's impossible now, knowing what he does about Sylvain, about all his former students. They had fought together enough times, trained together, eaten together, suffered and cried together. Sylvain isn't a face to forget as he isn't one to Sylvain.

His hands curl over his undergarments as that thought sinks in, stopping short of stroking along the bulge there before leaning down to drag his tongue over it instead, the wetness of his saliva soaking through the fabric while he traces over single ridge. The guilt that gnawed at him before still hasn't completely ebbed away, but the more his own urgency rises, the less he feels like thinking about it. Less he feels like thinking about anything at all.

Both eyes flick upwards as he repeats the same motion if only to catch Sylvain's expression this time, his own gaze sharp-eyed and discerning like he's on the edge of the battlefield, waiting to crack past every last one of Sylvain's defenses and reveal more of the vulnerability underneath. ]

I like this side of you.

(no subject)

crestfallenfor - 2020-04-12 08:36 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

byleth - 2020-04-19 00:26 (UTC) - Expand

IC Inbox for Prismatica

text; un: unknown - here have a haunted message

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)