dumbshow | highly new, slightly improved open post

highly new, slightly improved open post

assorted morons

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme
☆ little steps meme
☆ affectionate physical contact meme
☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy
☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU
☆ melodrama is ultimate tier
★ SHIPPING AND FUCC:
☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh
☆ things I am not into: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character
☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty
☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[If Constantin has no expectations, he thinks, he can't be disappointed. It's a lovely lie to tell himself, over and over again while he waits, aside from the part where it's not going to stick and he knows it isn't because he has more expectations for— for this than he's ever had for anything else. It feels juvenile to call them hopes, but isn't that the point he's reached? He's been away; he'll see Felix now, and something will be... different! The same, but different! Is he different, after a year in the north? Would it matter if he was?

Seeing Felix is precisely the same-but-different feeling he's thinking of, as it turns out: the coat is new, the man is not, but Constantin has quietly noted all the little reminders that he's been gone for a while since stepping into the house, and that coat is yet another. The thought hovers at the back of his mind, wondering how much he's missed that hasn't come up in Felix's letters, if he's missed something important regarding, you know, their mutual future— but ah, that insecurity aside, he can't gloss over the way his heart hammers in his chest upon just seeing Felix. So that much remains unchanged, alright—

Paler, Felix says, and it's that that somehow gets Constantin to smile at all, if a touch strained. Yes, he's been spending even more time than usual indoors, sure...]

An unfortunate side effect from my exile to the frigid wastes!

[And, hmm, the sick dread that follows him around his father's house; being up north was lonely, but at least it wasn't home. But that's not exactly appropriate for this little reunion, which Constantin realizes at the same time he realizes he doesn't know what to say next. "How was your year?" Unbelievable. He's at a loss.

Which is a first, to be honest, so treasure the silence if not the discomfort. Give him a moment to come back to himself, perk up and gesture at the table he's been waiting at. The tea is still mostly hot? Hm.]

You do have time to join me, don't you? [He's not dressed to train! Get over here, boy...] I had wanted to come sooner, but you know how unpredictable these things are... Another day of court and I might have truly lost my mind!

[Felix has spent years purposely not thinking about the, ah, arrangement between himself and Constantin—which means, of course, that he's thought about it more often than he'd like? So it goes! But he isn't thinking about it now. Not as his eyes rove across Constantin's face, lingering on those eyes, those cheekbones, before that smile, as off as it somehow seems, sends him shifting his attention down to one of his sleeves as an awkward silence sets in. Itchy, itchy material, this brocade. He much prefers practical leathers and furs.

(But what, he wonders, does Constantin prefer? If anything. Does it matter? Does he care?)

...Hmph. He brings a hand up to absentmindedly pluck at the fabric resting against his opposite wrist, frowning down at it as opposed to frowning up at Constantin. As rude as he's known to be—and as little as this meeting matters—he doesn't want to send the wrong message? He's been on the receiving end of Constantin's pout before; he isn't eager to repeat the experience so soon, for... various reasons. It's normal.

But he can only fuss with his sleeve for so long! Soon enough he gives into the urge to glance back up at Constantin, just in time to see that silly gesture. Being invited to sit down and enjoy tea in his own home... you know, there's something ridiculous about that? Something that would send his father shaking his head, but not at Constantin; it would be Felix's fault for not leaping at the chance to play the gracious host, and that thought, oddly enough, is what helps Felix to feel a bit more at ease—and what allows a hint of a smirk to appear on his face. Court...]

You never could sit still.

[Not when boring, if important, things were going on around him, he (fondly) means, but whatever. Time to walk closer to this table, inspecting everything atop it—oh, gross, it's Bergamot tea—as he weighs his words.]

But my schedule isn't as... unpredictable as yours. I have no other plans for the day. [He offers that in lieu of, uh, agreeing that he has time to drink tea, because it just feels important to let his empty schedule be known. No training! No meetings! A blessing and a curse, in his opinion, but as he looks back up at Constantin:] Do you?

[Did he come here to waste the day away with Felix, as is tradition, or... have things changed, in some way? Not that he's worried about it! Goddess, no.]

[Court is terrible and fathers are worse, these two things are truths that will never change no matter how many times Constantin is sent away to learn how to behave. So is this: he has always relished even the smallest smile on Felix's face, and this one is no exception... It feels better, suddenly, to be alone in this room with him after such a long stretch of time. Constantin finds himself abruptly more comfortable than he's been in all these weeks since he's been home, watching Felix come over to disapprove of the things his own servants have set out, and that is... nice.

Nice enough that he all but melts bonelessly back into his chair, waving a hand as if that will dismiss any and all plans other people might be trying to make for him at this very moment. He's busy today, but it's only with Felix. Well, hopefully. Probably?

First:] I know how to sit still!

[But does he? No, never. Don't worry about it, the same way Constantin won't worry about what anyone will say if he spends the entire day and perhaps even half the night here. They're engaged! Surely, he is allowed to spend some time with his own fiancé without getting in trouble for it...]

Coming to see you is the only plan I've made for myself in months. No one will be expecting me back home for hours.

[Ideally... He didn't run off irresponsibly, without telling even a servant, so this visit should be fine to, ah, draw out for a while. He's on his best behavior. It's actually miserable, but watching Felix do something as simple as inspect this tea spread is both familiar and novel. It's been too long, which is surely the only reason he's as fascinated as he is by just looking at Felix...

Ha, no. Constantin, at least, has long since embraced these... many feelings. But boy, the difference between reading a letter and being close enough to reach out and touch him is so much. He picks up his teacup, which is mostly empty, and just holds it to have something to occupy his hands. Normal!]

It would be nice to catch up.

[Please, Constantin. Please. Felix knows a lie when he hears one, which is why he can't help but to snort, ever so lightly, as he finally drops into the chair opposite his, ah, fidgety fiancé. How long will tea last, anyway? How long until Constantin just has to get up and move about the room, or insist that Felix take him somewhere new, or—oh, any other manner of things that would be very, very annoying, were he literally anyone else. It's amazing, the things Constantin gets away with.

And it's amazing how satisfying it is, to hear Constantin confirm that he has no other places to be. Felix enjoys being alone; Felix enjoys, like, not having to say more than five words at a time, but as he crosses his arms, settling back into a somewhat more comfortable position to watch Constantin mess with his teacup... hmm, hmm, hmm. It isn't as though he has many friends, thanks to his prickly demeanor? And while that's (mostly) a deliberate choice, it doesn't change the fact that it's been quite some time since he's enjoyed the company of someone he's allowed to just be himself around. No one's watching him, expecting who knows what from him; he's free to do exactly as he pleases without catching any shit for it, which in this case means refusing to choke down a cup of tea (rude!) while openly studying Constantin's face. Hmm, yes... still paler than he remembered...]

"Catch up?" [Boy. It's only by the grace of the Goddess that he doesn't snort again.] You did write—and each one of your letters was longer than the last.

[While Felix's letters were short and to the point, much like the person who wrote them, but! Love him as he is, etc, etc.]

I don't see how you could have left anything out.

[Felix, it is a turn of phrase, please let him live. Mentioning his, ah, many letters does deal with how pale he is, at least briefly as he flushes pink behind his cup and clears his throat. His many, many letters, each one more embarrassing in hindsight than the last... He knows now that spilling his (admittedly, petulant) heart onto paper over and over hasn't put Felix off— since Felix did accept Constantin's offer to see him, but he can't help the blush! He's even more dramatic in writing! Whew...

But he's calm! He's fine.]

In my humble defense, I had no one else to talk to, up there in my frozen prison. And, well... [He shrugs, putting the cup back on the table once he feels like his face has calmed down. It's still warm, but he's just going to endure that for now.] You are the only one who understands me, sometimes. I can hardly say two words against my father to my cousin without being subject to insistence that I am somehow mistaken!

[Ugh! Dads! This is, also, the single meanest thing he has ever said about Dear Cousin in his entire life, which just shows how deep his appreciation for Felix's understanding goes. Having letters to look forward to- no matter how terse- made his Terrible Exile almost bearable! The willingness to listen to him isn't something he'll forget so easily. Hmm.

Constantin cants his head slightly to the side, watching Felix not even pretend to drink the tea, and ah... he's so, so fond him, even now.

So it was clearly a stroke of good fortune that he was kept busy for so many weeks after returning, because if he'd come here any earlier he'd have already thrown himself at Felix's feet and begged him to marry him right now, himself. He is keeping it together only by sheer force of will.

...But!]

I may not have described everything. [Which is, hmm, ominous? But don't worry about it, because all he really means is,] I missed you.

["In my humble defense," Constantin says, like Felix was the least bit bothered by the length of his letters. Oh, maybe he rolled his eyes! Maybe he shook his head when two pages became three, and three pages became four, but—hmm. When it comes to updates from the border, or missives from the capital, or monthly reminders from Ingrid to do this, that, or the other, brevity is key; letters from Constantin, however, are judged by a different standard, because the longer the letter, the... better Constantin is? Not necessarily happier, given the trouble he frequently finds himself in, but if he has the energy to complain for paragraph after paragraph, Felix knows he's in no danger of, like, wasting away. It's the little things.

Another little thing: tracking Constantin's blush as he says such, ah? Such interesting stuff. None of which is new to Felix, per se; like, he knows that Constantin complains to him because he trusts him, and he knows what it's like to keep complaints buried deep within, but it's still quite the thing to hear said aloud. A reminder, really, of how close they are! It's good and bad, comfortable and uncomfortable, and Felix finds himself shifting in his seat as Constantin flips the script and studies him. He should say... something, before Constantin continues down this dramatic path. He should.

...But he doesn't, and damn! Look where it lands him! Sitting across from Constantin as he shamelessly admits that he missed him, and while that's another thing that isn't new, it still catches him by surprise, sends him frowning down at his empty teacup as he ignores the slight warmth creeping into his own cheeks.]

That— [...That! Is both embarrassing and, hmm, oddly nice to hear, but give him a second before he brusquely adds:] I wrote to you. Often.

[By which he means that it's ridiculous to have missed him, when they were in constant contact? For a pair of Ye Oldes, anyway. But read between the lines there, sir. Remember that Felix rarely writes to anyone at all, aside from those times he's obligated to, and the secondary meaning is clear: he missed Constantin, too! More, perhaps, than he even realized, up until he walked into this room and saw him for the first time in far, far too long. It's all very... friendly.

...Okay, okay. More than friendly.]

[Oh Felix, know that Constantin has kept every single one of those letters! He treasures them in the exact way he ignores letters from his parents— or would if, you know, they ever actually wrote to him. It's the idea of the thing, anyway...

Still, how should he go about answering that? With honesty, and how it's just not the same to only have his words and not his presence, only a carriage ride away if not in the same room? That's far more honest than simply I missed you, and Constantin can't quite pin down whether or not they're there yet. Maybe? Maybe a year and a half ago, almost, but while distance has more than made the heart grow fonder, it hasn't made acknowledging their situation any easier. Sure, it would be unlike Felix to treat him the way he does simply out of duty, hah, but what if...?

So Constantin has missed him terribly and can say as much, but the crippling fear of rejection is still there. All the same, he can't help but push a little. To gently nudge. It's delicate, but not so delicate that he can't say this:]

You did, and your letters were a bright star in that oppressive darkness! Yet I did miss you, and quite terribly at that.

[Now it's Felix's turn to read between the lines, while Constantin continues to look at him like he's the best thing to ever happen to him. In the past month, he certainly is! Please don't shatter his heart into a million tiny pieces!]

You might have liked it up there. [In the middle of nowhere, nearly, there is almost no fussy noble garbage because the only neighbors are poor farmers in the nearby village. Paradise.] If I hadn't been so cruelly forbidden to have visitors, that is.

[And one day in the far future, Constantin can go digging around the drawers of Felix's desk and find that he, too, has saved every letter. Until then, though—this! Felix staring at this teacup like it's personally offended him, because he's not as, ah, emotionally immature as he sometimes seems to be. He knows why Constantin admitting that he missed him makes his chest tighten, just like he knows why Constantin chooses to press the issue? What Constantin is more than likely hoping to hear him say in return, and it isn't as if it would cost him anything to say the simple, honest truth.

But it would also make things... realer, in a way. Would force him to confront things like, say, trusting another person with such an important part of himself, or facing the fact that said person is the one he's expected to spend the rest of his life alongside, and that's all very—whew! Whew. After pushing people away for years, is he ready to be so open, so... vulnerable...

...The impossible question, although there is a flash of something (guilt?) when he imagines how crushed Constantin might be if he chooses to say nothing at all. Constantin has as few friends as he does, but while it's never bothered him—while he has, in fact, preferred to go at things alone—he's aware that Constantin is... different. He wants to be liked, needs to be liked, and as stupid as Felix thinks that is, all it takes is the memory of a particularly bright smile to send him letting out a quiet breath. Okay! All right.]

Perhaps, [he agrees, seemingly skipping over everything that came before. Patience.] I hear the hunting is good. That it's quiet.

[Better than the capital, at any rate. People tripping over one another at every turn, doing their best to drown one another out in the process—but as he finally looks back up at Constantin, frown easing:]

Not that it hasn't been quiet here. No one talks as much as you do. [A burn? Admitting that Constantin-free is the way to be? No, no.] I suppose your letters made up for it, but this is... better.

["This" being talking face-to-face? Which... requires more reading between the lines, yes, but he's doing his best!]

[The hunting is good... what a nerd. Constantin wouldn't know, having spent, oh, most of his year-point-five moping, and having no one to impress with an attempt at hunting anyway. But it is quiet.

So that much is true. And then, ah—]

Oh, [he says dumbly, blinking first at Felix and then at his cup. Not that he's misunderstood; not that he wasn't hoping desperately for even the smallest of warm comments, indirect or not... but it's another thing entirely to actually hear it from Felix. Hypocrite that he is, insisting on his dramatics and then reacting like this to a basic "this is better"; a fresh blush creeps over his cheeks, brow furrowed, while he makes a face at the table like he very much wants to smile but can't quite get it out.]

Felix— I am so... so very sorry, for— for this past year.

[Because Felix missed him, even if he won't come out and say it, and Constantin knows full well what that's like! Because Felix might not care about high society niceties, but it can't have been completely smooth, going through the months after Constantin's departure with gossip all around about what a disaster his fiancé is. Because if he learned one thing while sulking in the north about his behavior, it's that his father can do him a favor and pass already, but for Felix, he should... Well!

The table is small enough for Constantin to reach across it and grip one of Felix's hands, more serious than he's been in the past, but with just the same height of Dramatics.]

Let's not dwell! I missed you, I have returned, and I swear to you right here and now that I won't let such foul business separate us unjustly again! [The foul business is fathers. He squeezes his hand and then, because they are not married actually, slowly lets go. Aha. But please believe he is trying.] ...I promise.

[Of all the things Felix is more or less prepared to hear, an earnest apology... is not one of them? Leave it to Constantin to catch him by surprise—and leave it to Felix to remain silent, forgoing the polite responses others would almost certainly fall back on. "It wasn't your fault?" Well, no. It was. "It was harder on you than me?" Oh, almost certainly, but now that Felix is sitting across from Constantin once more, he's strangely aware of how... uneventful the past year and a half has been. Too quiet by half, even for the person who just listed the north's quietness as one of its major selling points, and that's? Hmm. That's what will annoy him, if he allows himself to waste any amount of time thinking about it, because that's something Constantin (unknowingly) did to him—which automatically makes it, like, ten times more grating than what other, less important people may or may not whisper behind his back.

So this apology is warranted, Felix thinks as he uncrosses his arms, bringing a hand to the top of the table so he can drum his fingers against it. A rude move that's earned him many a disapproving look? An open sign that he's considering how to hurry the current topic along—and yet it works in his favor this one time, because watching Constantin's fingers briefly close over his own is as electrifying as it is unexpected. Who would have thought that such simple contact would be so... well! Well. It's the result of Felix allowing absolutely no one close enough to touch him, but that doesn't explain why Felix feels the loss of Constantin's touch so keenly. Is this what he gets for saying something soft-ish... has he dug a hole for himself here...

Answer: Yes, especially when the first thing that springs to mind after a few seconds of silence is:]

...Then I'll hold you to it.

[Spoken a touch more quietly, a touch more seriously, than anything that came before it, but—hmm. He glances down at his hand, then back up at Constantin, unconsciously flexing his fingers as he wills himself not to dwell on it. It was only a brief squeeze of his hand, goodness, he's gotta be tsun about this posthaste—]

Even if you'll find trouble soon enough. [Ah! Perfectly Tsun™. But this is not a criticism, necessarily, because hey? Hey.] In your territory, anyway. There's little to be found in mine.

[What if... Constantin spent more time... in Fraldarius territory? Haha, just kidding... unless???]

[Part of Constantin, honestly, is expecting Felix not to care one bit about his apology or his promise. Perhaps Felix may have missed him but not enough to warrant, well, any emotional response at all! Perhaps any number of things, and would it cut him to the bone to face down Felix's dismissal right this second? Oh, undoubtedly. Would he kind of still deserve it? Mmm... maybe.

But that hardly matters when it doesn't happen, does it? Just the softer tone of Felix's voice undoes him, he's wound so tightly with nerves, hmm— Felix could bore him to tears about types of steel and Constantin would feel his heart get that much lighter, as long as he said it like that. Whew... the return to true tsun form is almost a relief for both of them.]

"Soon enough"! Don't tell me you— [are buying what his father is selling about how he'll inevitably screw up again, but wait, wait. No, hold on. It takes Constantin a second to realize that this is not actually a condemnation, stopping his protest short as the gears slowly turn. Ah...] Oh. Never mind.

[Ahem....... well then. No, he gets it. Whew.....2!!]

Are you offering to keep me out of trouble? If someone from your household were to request my presence, I could hardly refuse.

[So maybe, just maybe, Felix was a touch lonelier this past year than he'd like to admit! Maybe listening to Constantin chatter on about anything and everything is better than the silence he claims he prefers, but you know, it's fine; skipping right over that is more than acceptable, even if it means... leaping out of the pan and into the fire. Ah. Hmm. He can't even take a moment to appreciate Constantin's indignant reaction, because how is he supposed to navigate this situation he's created for himself...]

You're not a child.

[By which he means that he isn't about to babysit him? Act ya age, Connie, not ya shoe size. Keep that promise in mind, because Felix is planning to take it every bit as seriously as he takes his own promises.]

I suppose I could speak to the old man, whenever he comes back from Fhirdiad. [Because something, something, a request from Duke Fraldarius would be all but impossible for anyone in Constantin's household to refuse? And his father has mentioned that it's time to bring Constantin into Fraldarius affairs, if only to allow the people to see them working together—and that sets his fingers drumming against the table in earnest. Marriage! The thing he tries his best not to think about! UGH.] If you're not opposed to work.

[Is riding out to settle property disputes better or worse than holding court? One involves Felix, at least.]

[Please, it's yet again a turn of phrase!! Sort of. The implication is most definitely that spending time with Felix, specifically, will keep Constantin out of trouble by denying him the opportunity to get in trouble in the first place... There isn't any babysitting!

...There is a negligible amount of babysitting. For all intents and purposes, he's an adult. He's not even politely embarrassed this time, unfortunately, because now the prospect of loitering- ahem, working alongside Felix is a very real possibility. His father won't refuse, he knows— as long as Constantin can keep him convinced that he is a totally changed man, letting him spend more time in a more well-respected household is an easy sell!

And, like, they're engaged. Constantin's parents don't care for each other and have never viewed marriage as anything but another tool, but for his part, Constantin is reluctant to use the engagement itself as a bargaining chip... hmm. He'll work it out, if need be.

That said: work, ew.]

What kind of work? [Not physical labor, he hopes? He knows what he is.] That is to say, I am hardly opposed in theory...

[He makes a face that is not entirely a pout, but getting there. Please don't make him do anything crazy. It passes, as he shakes his head to steel his resolve. To do work.]

But I intend beyond all shadow of a doubt to uphold my promise, so— I am in your hands!

[Riding out to the fringes of Fraldarius territory, settling petty squabble after petty squabble, isn't a necessarily thrilling way to spend one's day—but ah, well. Boredom, Felix supposes, is a problem he'll face if and when he absolutely has to? Maybe if he ties him to his saddle...

Kidding! Just kidding, even if that thought, when paired with Constantin's obvious eagerness to get his hands dirty, brings about the return of the world's tiniest smirk. Lazy, whiny Constantin will undoubtedly be annoying in the moment, but for now, Felix is still riding the mild high of being back together.]

Hm. So you say now.

[Is he leaving it at that? Of course he is! With the implication being, of course, that the work is going to be very, very difficult and very, very time-consuming, because this is how Felix teases people he's fond of? He may not joke, but he isn't above poking fun at friends when he's in a halfway decent mood.]

Perhaps I'll drag you along to training, as well.

[Early mornings! Late evenings! Get ready!]

[Perhaps if these petty squabbles involve bandits, or thrilling heroics... or just some cool knife throwing, whatever! Just something interesting! Constantin will learn to endure it. At the very least he won't be lazy and whiny out of spite, like he would be if anyone but Felix took him along to do this work.

Pros, cons? They'll both see when they get there.]

Training? [Ah, and he's clearly feeling more like himself now and less like a mope, because his voice most definitely cracks from Real Fear at the very thought. Training with his own master of arms at home was bad enough, way back when, but—] I have seen you train, Felix! I won't last to the end of the first day!

[What if- consider this- what if he just... watched! Admiringly! That would be better!

He sits back in his chair, hand raised to cover his eyes in an exaggerated gesture of despair. Dramatics(tm).]

If that is the cost, then it must be done... Remember me fondly, won't you?

[Like Felix plans to bring Constantin along whenever he rides out to handle bandits. That goes hand-in-hand with the refusal to babysit—but details, details. Now it's all about Constantin being entirely too dramatic about training, aka Felix's favorite way to spend his free time. Is there anything better than perfecting a new move? Than becoming stronger? Felix doesn't think so, but Constantin obviously disagrees. Sad...]

If you make enough of an effort. [It's easy to allow words like fondly to slip past him when he can be, uh, a tiny bit mean? In fact, he's not even going to think about it at all as he leans forward to finally swipe something (the world's tiniest finger sandwich) off a plate. Fuck utensils... he's a rebel...] Are you any better with a sword?

[Let the records show that Felix demanded to fight Constantin one (1) time, just because he's Like That, and it ended as quickly as one would expect.]

[Constantin would love to miraculously skip all the way ahead to the end, when he's already very strong and talented and heroic and didn't have to get up in the wee hours of the morning to get hit with swords to get that far! That would be great! Once Felix discovers the secret to that kind of training, he'll gladly come along without whining. Until then.

His sword skills, meanwhile... If he weren't bad at training and built like a stick that gets tired after ten minutes, he'd be halfway impressive. As it stands, hmm, well. He has guards for a reason. He does, at least, drop his dramatic hand to frown thoughtfully across the room. Uh...]

I am... passable with a sword.

[By the standards of someone who doesn't know a lot about swords and so wouldn't know any better, he is passable with a sword. In a pinch he could stab a guy? Artlessly.]

You know my house is one of merchants, not soldiers... I am abundantly lucky I was humored with sword lessons alongside my cousin at all!

[This is an excuse, for sure. It's also the truth?? Points for honesty?]

[And "passable," Felix assumes, means "quite bad," but it's not like this is a surprise? In many ways, they're complete opposites; this is something Felix is well aware of—and is occasionally frustrated by, and yet it's... well! It works for them, somehow. Constantin is unlike anyone else Felix knows.

And he wonders, briefly, if that will help or hinder their working relationship, but—hmm. Better to peel apart this tiny sandwich than think about the uncomfortable m-word, so allow him to do just that! And then pull a face when he realizes the veggie-to-meat ratio is, like, three-to-one. Disgusting.]

Then I won't ask you to spar. [Which is very different from simple training, thanks. But a beat, as he drops his dissected sandwich on his little plate, before:] Maybe I'll invite your cousin along.

[Is this good or bad? Like, what if he kicks said cousin's ass?]

[Sparring would, in all likelihood, literally kill him, so this is... a good thing? Constantin is not great at combat, he knows, as much as he would love to be great at it without the hassles of both training and having to get into real fights with swords. He's delicate!]

Ah... you would?

[He has to think about this for a good long moment, in earnest; it's no secret to anyone who has ever met him that Constantin's love and respect for his cousin borders on hero worship, so what if Felix could kick their ass... Would that spoil his opinion of his dearest, most cherished relative, or— and let's be totally honest— just make him way more into Felix than he already is?

The answer is obvious to at least one person in this room, but maybe one day Felix will catch up. Constantin sips his tea.]

If my father has not demanded my cousin's presence for some diplomatic something or other, I could ask. You two ought to spend more time together, in any case.

[Specifically because dear cousin is the best cousin ever and can swing a sword good, not even because they're aaallllll gonna be family sometime soon.]

[And Constantin's, ah, cousin complex doesn't bother Felix? He has two (three?) extremely close friends of his own, but as Felix watches Constantin sip his tea—well! Well. The possible challenge aside, it would be a lie to say that the idea of besting Constantin's dear cousin isn't appealing all on its own. For... reasons.

...Yeah. Reasons. Absolutely none of which center around Felix's strangely selfish desire for Constantin to admire him for his accomplishments, because that's? It's? Pfft. He shifts in his chair for no reason at all. Other people's opinions are wack... mostly...]

Why? Hoping we might get along? [With the implication being that Felix... barely gets along with anyone, being the sharp-tongued individual that he is, but. He still cants his head to the side, pretending like he's considering this very, very carefully.] Maybe your cousin is less opposed to work than you are.

[Maaaaaaaaaybe he'll invite them to ride along for all of those petty squabbles—except he won't, because that means less time alone with Constantin. Hmm!]

[Please, Constantin is already smitten— but he could be more, and watching Felix dump his cousin on their ass would, hmm, add more? It isn't even as if his cousin has a reputation for being obscenely gifted at the sword- pretty good, sure, but that's all- it's just... you know... the spectacle!

That said: teasing him about inviting them along is so cruel.]

You know my cousin is less opposed to work than I am. [this is Known Fact by Everyone] I daresay the two of us would be out of work entirely were we all three to ride out together!

[Potentially? A bonus? Dear cousin the diplomat literally cannot resist fixing other people's problems, which solves Constantin's not wanting to work problem... But ah, would that kind of besting bother Felix? Does he need to show off in all disciplines?

And more importantly, how can Constantin try to hold his hand with his cousin right there making faces!! Augh!]

Father keeps everyone at the estate hideously busy, I'm afraid.

[Does Felix enjoy dealing with people, especially when they're all fired up about the stupidest shit? No. Does Felix want anyone to help him deal with them, let alone smooth things over in record time? Absolutely not. It's part pride, part, like, reluctant acceptance that Fraldarius matters fall to him—so while Constantin is allowed to accompany him, for various reasons, everyone else is unequivocally banned.

But Constantin doesn't need to know that, because Felix enjoys this sort of push-and-pull with exactly one (1) person. A sign of just how comfortable he finds this whatever-it-is...]

Ah. [That's an awfully knowing ah, but he just can't help himself.] But he'll spare you so soon after your return? Generous of him.

[He says it so, so sarcastically, always eager to trash fathers in one another's presence—but, uh? Maybe that didn't come off precisely as he'd intended it to, given the tricky subject matter? He's not quite sure, and while that normally wouldn't bother him in the slightest... it's Constantin he's dealing with here. Sometimes it seems as if there's an entirely different set of rules.

But what to say? It's trickier than he'd like to admit, so it's time to casually look out the nearby window, pretending like he's very interested in the courtyard beyond it as he Considers.]

...If you do come alone, you'll have the guest wing to yourself.

[Smooth! ...But true. Rodrigue stays in Fhirdiad more often than not, and ever since Glenn—well. Visitors are rarer than they once were, so throw a party, Connie.]

[Wow, thanks bud, that doesn't hurt his feelings at all! Well. If he's being honest, it stings only a little to hear someone else remind him that his father sure doesn't want him around! But it's Felix, and Felix understands, more or less, so— hm.

Well, he's not going to make a scene about it. He shrugs, setting his cup down to gesture dismissively.]

My father would rather someone else mind me most of the time.

[So! It's fine! Clearly, shipping him off to loiter in Fraldarius territory right after shipping him off to the north is convenient. Tell him more about the guest wing, instead... come to the guest wing and romance him... Know that he will be thinking about this extremely spicy concept for days.

He watches Felix stare out the window for a moment, wondering. Hmm.

Hmmmm! Okay, go for broke, why not—]

When will I have you all to myself, then?

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