Work Text:
Felix stared down at the screen of his phone as it flashed the End Call screen at him.
He…had been hung up on. He tried to blink away his confusion.
It had seemed like it was going so smoothly. Thea had asked him the other day to get in touch with one of her friends who needed some help.
“She's being stalked,” Dorothea had said hotly over the phone, sounding like she would have burned down the world if it would have brought this friend safety. “This guy from when she was a sex worker keeps showing up at her current workplace when her shifts end.”
Felix had immediately agreed to help. It was a no brainer. No one should ever be made to feel unsafe like that, and Felix was the guy for personal safety. Sylvain had teased him so many times about his knife collection, about the sweet little pistol he kept securely locked up, about his trio of mace, taser, and whistle he kept in every bag he owned--he was trained in mixed martial arts for goddess's sake. He knew self defense.
So he and Thea had hashed out the situation, figured out a couple other people to loop in for extra bodies, etc. They had a plan.
When Felix was dialling the number to reach Dorothea's friend, he felt so sure of himself, like this was going to make a difference. Like people looking out for each other could change the fucking world.
Then the conversation.
Fuck. It felt like it had slipped through this fingers and far away from him so quickly.
“What services do you offer?”
“Services?” He'd been confused.
“Yeah, like. Can you help me relocate, like, for a fee? Can you help me take legal action?”
Felix had frozen.
Ah…uh…we…sorry,” Felix forced a laugh out, thrown completely off track by either of those suggestions. “I was given to understand that you, uh, wanted a sort of personal safety escort to get you from work to home.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment before the phone line went dead.
Fuck. Had it been the laugh? Did she think he was making light of her situation?
He stood from the sofa, the palms of his hands clammy as he tried to get a sense of what had happened. Had she misunderstood what he meant by escort? How had Dorothea misunderstood what her friend wanted so fundamentally?
He sat back down again, his leg jittering up and down like a jackhammer. Where had he fumbled the call? It must have been the laugh. Sweet Seiros, he should have fucking trained that out of himself by now.
His vision was starting to blur, his blood pressure rising. Fuck. Fuck . Now that woman was going to have to keep going to work, keep encountering that man. And if she went missing or turned up dead--Felix's stomach dropped.
He felt sick.
When Sylvain came back from the grocery store, Felix was in that same position. Sitting ramrod straight on the couch, fists clenched at his sides, eyebrows furrowed in deepest concentration. He didn't reply to Sylvain's cheerful greeting, nor to his polite request that Felix help unload the groceries. Felix was too focused.
Sylvain's cheerfulness quieted as he peered over the kitchen counter at his boyfriend, sneaking glances every now and then as he put all the cold food in the fridge. It was clear to him that something was wrong, and once everything was put away, he padded softly over to the couch, sitting next to Felix. For the first time since Sylvain had entered, Felix turned to him, but Sylvain could see that Felix's eyes were still glazed over. Not quite present.
Sylvain waved his hand in front of Felix's eyes and watched as Felix's eyes slowly snapped back into focus.
Felix scowled at him.
“What was that for?” he demanded. Sylvain raised an eyebrow.
“For not helping with the groceries, for one. What's up? You were pumped when I left.”
Felix's scowl didn't diminish, and the grip of his fists grew tighter, fingernails digging into the skin of his palms.
“I fucked up. That's what’s up ,” he spat back venomously.
Sylvain looked around the room. It all seemed in order, unlike the last time this happened, when Felix got a little too enthusiastic about trying out his latest katana purchase and accidentally hit Sylvain's very fancy, very expensive gaming monitor.
“Well, what's the damage?” he asked, sending Felix a charming wink and grin. Felix muttered something unintelligible, and Sylvain casually reached out and took hold of Felix's nearest wrist, squeezing it just tightly enough to serve as a warning. It worked, but not exactly in the way that Sylvain had intended.
Felix jumped up, wrenched his wrist away from Sylvain, and shouted,
“Some woman is probably going to die because I couldn't hold a sensitive fucking conversation, okay?! Her stalker’s going to get her, and I was supposed to help, and I didn't .”
Sylvain let out a sharp breath. Felix didnt shout at him much, not anymore. Not since the days of philandering that Sylvain threw out the window when he realized he had a chance with his best friend. But he did recognize this part of Felix all the same, even if it didn't usually shout.
“Fe, baby.”
A shudder ran through Felix at those words. He should have known this would be Sylvain's response, he should have known this would be how it would go.
“Come here.”
Felix went. Stood between Sylvain's two long, toned legs and waited. He couldn't even look him in the eye.
“If you need to, say the word, okay?” Felix nodded once, and Sylvain continued. “Is this about Dorothea's friend?”
Felix nodded.
“Use your words, baby.”
Felix flushed a deep pink, all the way to the tips of his ears.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
A mumble followed from Felix that burned something deep within Sylvain, something that screamed Felix should never feel shame about this, what he needed.
“Gonna have to say it louder, so I can hear you, Fe.”
Felix wasn't sure how his head didn't explode from embarrassment.
“...yes, Daddy.”
Sylvain took hold of Felix's hips and angled his face up to look into Felix's.
“Good, thank you. Now what happened that made you think you messed it up?”
“She hung up on me.”
Sylvain rubbed his thumbs up and down Felix's hips soothingly. He could feel Felix begin to tremble.
“Is that all?” Sylvain asked softly, leaning closer to Felix. Felix shrugged.
“I--I don't know what happened. I misunderstood what she wanted, I think? And…when I was…explaining that…I laughed. Awkwardly. Like. Like I'm not even human enough to fucking. Hold a normal fucking–” What had started off as somewhat forlorn confusion took no time at all to turn into a self-loathing session, as Felix growled with frustration and stormed out of Sylvain's grasp. His hands returned to fists, and this time, he hoped that this fingernails would break the skin, he dreamed that blood would gush out of the wounds and just leave him draining out, emptying of life. And he hoped Sylvain would leave him there.
When Sylvain spoke, there was a raw edge to his words.
“Felix. Please come here.”
Felix knew what was coming, what this whole rigamarole was leading up to, and something deep inside of him sighed with relief. The buzzing, chanting beneath his skin, calling for his drawing and quartering, got louder.
He shuffled over to Sylvain's spot on the couch again, and Sylvain offered him a stilted smile. Sylvain's internal monologue was blood roaring in his ears, wondering once again, once again, how Felix could see himself like this. How he could look at what had happened and tear himself apart for it. Wondering if Felix knew how deeply it cut Sylvain to see him talk about himself in that way.
“Come on, bud. Let's get these off,” he said, instead of saying any of that, pulling at the waistband of Felix's jeans. Felix stayed silent as Sylvain unbuttoned, unzipped, then dropped the jeans to the floor. Felix always felt ridiculous at this part, standing there in this boxers and shirt. When the mood was more playful, sometimes Sylvain would play up the humiliation, make Felix strip further, until he just wore a shirt. Would call him his little Pooh Bear as he slid his dexterous fingers into Felix's folds, where he was already wet wet wet at just the simplest humiliation.
But for today, Felix whined when Sylvain went to pull at the waistband of his boxers, and Sylvain knew immediately what that meant. There were days when Felix didn't want to be without his packer. Today seemed to be one of those days.
“No worries, baby, let's just settle you down on my lap--yup, there you go--and I'll just sliiiiide the back down over those lovely cheeks.” Sylvain leaned down and gave each a wet smack, making Felix kick out. Trying to reach that idiot's head. Always so fucking embarrassing, Felix couldn't help but think as he squirmed on Sylvain's lap, feeling his face turn red and the anxiety in his stomach turn to something lower, molten hot.
“Now Felix,” Sylvain said slowly, a low gravel coming out in his tone that went straight down Felix's spine, “we're going to do thirty tonight, okay?”
Felix wasn't able to suppress a sharp inhale. Thirty was one of their higher numbers. Something in him shriveled up at the fact that Sylvain thought he did so bad that he deserved one of their harsher punishments. The burning under his skin got hotter, the buzzing louder. He should have done better, he should have done better, he should have done–
“After every spank, I want you to thank me, like usual.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Felix heard himself say, his voice devoid of emotion.
Sylvain paused from where he had been massaging Felix's ass, simply enjoying the feel before the spanking would begin. Felix was usually much more bratty than this, all tsundere about how “this was stupid,” and “he didn't need this” (all the while never using his safe word). Hm. Maybe he needed to clarify some things before they started. He poked Felix in the base of his spine, eliciting a surprised moan that he knew was turning Felix's face deep red in embarrassment.
“Listen up, buttercup. You're going to thank me after each spank, and you will say this:” Here Sylvain paused, thinking of the precise words that would convey what this session meant to him. “I am Daddy's Little Prince, and I am a good boy.”
Felix almost fell off Sylvain's lap as he wrenched around to look at him with wide eyes.
“What the fuck for?!” Felix demanded, clapping a hand over his mouth when he realized exactly what he'd said. Sylvain smirked down at him.
“Language, baby,” he tsked, adding the customary five spanks for cursing to his mental tally. Felix growled at him, but turned back around without any further questions. “Good boy.” Sylvain grinned when he felt Felix squirm around on his lap, seeking out some relief for the arousal he was sure to be feeling by now. “Stay still, now.”
The spanking began.
When the first smack hit, Felix bucked up, always surprised by the force Sylvain hid in those lithe arms of his. He almost forgot to say anything, but just as he began to hear the tsk leave Sylvain's mouth, he yelped out,
“Thanksdaddyimdaddy'slittleprinceandiamagoodboy!”
He was tense as Sylvain seemed to consider this offering, rubbing Felix's skin where he had been hit. A long, drawn out hmmmmmm came from behind him, and Felix cringed, knowing that whatever Sylvain was thinking was not going to be something he liked. Well. He reconsidered as his dick throbbed between his legs. Maybe that wasn't entirely accurate.
“Just for tonight,” Sylvain murmured, gently scratching at Felix's lower back, “let's shorten it to ‘I am a good boy.’”
“Yes, D–”
“And Felix? I want to hear it slow and clear.”
Felix bit back a moan as his vision blurred. Sylvain knew exactly what was going to rile him up.
“Yes, Daddy,” Felix sighed. Behind him, where Felix couldn't see, Sylvain beamed at the way Felix seemed to melt just a little bit with his sigh.
Smack . The second was harder than the first, and Felix grunted at the blossoming pain left behind.
“I… am a good boy,” he said, scrunching his eyes closed in embarrassment. Smack . Fuck. “I AM a good boy.” Smack . Pissing hell. “I AM a good boy.”
By spank fifteen, Felix was rubbing himself up against Sylvain's legs, panting out his phrase with little whimpers in between each word. Sylvain was an expert on what Felix could handle at this point and had been steadily increasing the force behind each strike. He dared to slip his fingers in between Felix's folds and groaned when they came back slick.
“Oh, Fe baby…you're doing so good for me,” he crooned, using his fingers now to rub gently at Felix's dick.
Felix arched his back with a sob.
“Please Daddy, please please !”
“My pretty boy, my good boy…” Sylvain gasped out, aroused out of his mind by the sounds his Felix was making. This was it . Watching Felix come apart like this. Watching him sink lower and lower into subspace until he was soft and pliable and so loud for him. For Sylvain. This was all for Sylvain, something in him shouted. He felt like he was screaming down a highway, wind whipping in his hair. He wasn't even paying attention to Felix's broken gasps of his phrase anymore, only concerned with counting spanks and intensifying that painpleasure that Felix responded to so well.
As for Felix, his existence was driven down to the pain in his ass, Sylvain's syrupy sweet words, and the arousal he chased, desperately humping against Sylvain's legs, trying to find some sort of purchase there. It spiked every time he managed to repeat his phrase. I am a good boy, I am a good boy, I am a good boy. It was like staring into the sun shining into his bedroom in the morning. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. He was devoid of memories or worries, centered only in this present moment as Sylvain delivered the final spank, thirty-five, and proceeded to finger Felix through the inevitable orgasm.
Felix's face was covered in snot and tears and even a little drool, but he was too blissed out to particularly care. Distantly, he felt Sylvain maneuver him onto the couch and go off somewhere.
Come back, he tried to say, instead coming out with, “Nggggggh…”
“I'll be right there, sweetness!” He heard Sylvain call from somewhere else in the apartment. Unfair. He would feel angry about that later, how Sylvain could use the stupidest pet name imaginable, and something would still stir deep inside. Something fond and possessive that wanted to sink its teeth into Sylvain and hold him there, close.
Maybe he fell asleep while these feelings floated around him because the next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes to Sylvain wiping gently at his face with a washcloth.
“Baby's awake, huh?” Sylvain murmured, settling a gentle kiss on Felix's forehead. Felix made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, and Sylvain laughed. “And coming back up, from the sound of it.”
Felix managed to reach one arm out to Sylvain and make a weak grabby hand motion at him. Sylvain complied by settling in behind him, cuddling him on their very soft couch.
Felix leaned back into him, turning his head so he could rub his cheek up against Sylvain's chest. His beautiful chest, Felix's sleepy mind supplied.
“You did so good, baby,” Sylvain said quietly, throwing an arm around Felix's midsection. “Took your spankings so well. My perfect little prince.”
Felix's face burned, and he flopped over onto his other side so he could hide his face in Sylvain's chest. Sylvain hummed and took the opportunity to drop so many kisses onto Felix's head and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I know it's hard. I know you wanted to help her, want to help lots of people. But sometimes things don't work out. And that's not your fault. You're a good boy, right?”
Felix nodded.
“I'm a good boy,” he mumbled into Sylvain's shirt. Sylvain pressed him closer to himself.
After the adrenaline of the scene, after the highs each of them had ridden, this was perfect. To be held in the arms of someone who loved them, who wanted to be as close to them as possible, who just wanted them .
All his life, Felix had felt pushed aside by other people, never someone's first choice. Never really known. Never understood. But Sylvain was here now. And Sylvain understood. Knew what he wanted and needed. Chose him. Wanted him. Knew all of the cringey little things that got him off, all the kinks that Felix hadn't wanted but came with him anyway. And after all that, wanted him. Wanted him, in fact, in spite of his flaws.
“Should call her back,” Felix murmured, pawing at his phone on the coffee table. Sylvain smacked his hand away with an affronted tch.
“Text her later, when your brain isn't goo, sweetness.”
Felix sighed, but he smiled a little. It was nice, the way Sylvain took care of him. He could tell his brain was beginning to resolidify, that he would soon pretend he had never been this soft at all, but. This one moment between subspace and awareness was nice to savor too. To know and like the self you saw.
His brain shifted away from himself and Sylvain, back to Dorothea's friend. She wanted legal help. He couldn't do that. He didn't even really know anyone who could? But…he did know of a couple places from when he was helping Bernadette escape her dad that might also be available to help Thea's friend.
He sat up straight. In fact, Mercedes still volunteered at one of those places, as a counselor. Even if it wasn't a one-to-one of what the woman had hoped for, I was something. Before Sylvain could stop him, he grabbed his phone and began texting Mercie.
“Noooo, Felixxxx,” Sylvain whined, half-heartedly swiping his hand at Felix's phone. “Text laterrrr. Cuddle nowww.”
As if she had been waiting for his text, Mercie was suddenly calling him.
“Hey Mercedes,” he said confidently, ignoring the groan from Sylvain, “could we talk for a minute? I have a bit of a favor.”
He felt Sylvain shuffle up against him, so he could hear Mercedes's faint voice on the other side too.
By the time the call ended, Felix and Mercedes had come up with a list of people and resources Dorothea's friend could reach out to, and Felix barely hesitated before sending the list her way, wishing her the best as he did.
Sylvain watched it all quietly.
There was no doubt Sylvain loved dominating Felix. Loved making him soft, putting him in a blissful state. But watching the rebound that their sessions gave Felix was something else entirely, a gift that he was grateful he was the only one who got to see. Felix turned around and gently knocked their foreheads together.
“What are you sitting around for, dingus? Isn't it almost dinner time?” He demanded, a wry smile on his face as he pushed off Sylvain to get to his feet.
Sylvain grinned.
“My my Mr. Fraldarius still unsatisfied? Say it isn't so!”
They kept bantering with each other through dinner, when Felix draped himself over Sylvain to finish up the pizza crusts Sylvain refused to eat (“It's the shell of the pizza, Fe, it's unnatural!”).
If Felix was being a little clingier than usual that night, Sylvain was happy to let it go unchallenged.