My neck. [ Felix echoes, eyes narrow and hands on his hips. Though his arguments are still unspoken, it's not as though he disagrees with his proposition. He cut his hand because he had to the first time and the habit stuck. He rather not permanently damage his hand because his childhood best friend has too many reservations about drinking the blood he needs to survive.
But. ] Why should I trust you with that? [ The bruises left in the wake of his hand have faded, but the memory still lingers. He hasn't forgotten how close Dimitri came to killing him - and while he knows he's not as desperate this time (the weekly feedings are to keep that from happening), he doesn't think he can be blamed for being wary. ]
[All at once, Dimitri’s façade falls. His fingers twitch around his arms and his stance slackens.]
I can't give you good reason to. [Clearly. Felix wouldn't have to ask if he had reason to trust him. He's already put his neck on the line for Dimitri and Dimitri had crushed it under his fingers. He'd done it countless times before, too. At the rebellion, at the academy. Every time he called Glenn's name instead of Felix's in his delirium.] Not yet. I'm working towards that. For now, I can only give you my word.
[He clenches his biceps.] I won't hurt you again. I swear it, Felix.
[ Felix wants to trust him. Truly, he does. But so long as bestial blood runs through his veins, he can't- he has to have some reservations.
He looks away from Dimitri and tugs a bit on his turtleneck, enough to expose that (once again) flawless pale skin of his. ] Don't give me a reason to regret believing you. If you hurt me, I'll cut you down where you stand. [ (never mind the fact that again, dimitri could very easily kill him if he desired it.)
His eyes flickers down to the bed as he pauses, thinking. ] How do you want me? [ When he'd use his hand, their positioning didn't matter as much. So long as Felix wasn't on his feet, it was fine. But now... well. He can't just hand over his neck like he did his palm. ]
[Something about the way Felix says that - how do you want me - strikes Dimitri, but he quickly shakes it off. He can’t let his thoughts wander; he needs to focus.] You need to be sitting. But I suppose you don’t want me looming over you.
[(dimitri doesn't want to loom over him. like a shadow. a beast. that would be too much. too similar. too soon.)
Were they in Dimitri’s room, he would just take a seat on his own bed. But it’s Felix’s room and Felix’s bed and Felix’s rules. He, too, glances at the bed.] May I?
[ Felix, indeed, doesn't want Dimitri to loom over him. The power in this situation is already imbalanced enough - he doesn't want to feel like a caged animal in his own room.
He waves his hand dismissively ] Go ahead. [ but doesn't join him on the bed right away. Pulling up a chair seems ridiculous, but sitting next to him and having both of them crane their heads would be uncomfortable. And he's not keen on the thought of Dimitri biting him from behind in any way.
So, with a short breath, he steps into Dimitri's space. ] Scoot back. [ Once he does, Felix unceremoniously climbs into his lap. With a leg on either side of his, he tugs down the collar of his turtleneck once more. ] This should suffice. [ He says, both to Dimitri and himself. When he's this close, it's harder to avoid Dimitri's gaze, but he still feels... better, like this. ]
[If Felix wanted to kill Dimitri, surely there were easier and more satisfying ways than this.
Felix doesn't need to avoid Dimitri's gaze, because Dimitri does that for him. His eye flickers to where their bodies meet, Felix warm on his lap, then to Felix's face, and finally to Felix's neck.] A-as you say. [His brain feels like mush. It must be the hunger, it must be.
Dimitri wants to help Felix tug down his collar - it might be more comfortable it he does it, but he doesn't dare. He doesn't dare overstep. His thoughts are already going haywire; making Felix mad and having him yell at him may only make things worst. He won't provoke him.]
Then, please, excuse me. ["Tell me when to stop" goes unspoken. They've done this enough times that they both know when Felix is about at his limits. But Dimitri still fusses internally. He wont let Felix give more than he needs again.
And with that, he leans in and takes a bite. Dimitri's teeth sink in much easier than they did with his hand.]
[ Felix can't see the moment Dimitri's teeth sink into his neck, but he feels it clear as day. His fingers curl tightly around the collar of his shirt, knuckles white (from tension) and red (from the warm blood that messily spills from the wound) as he keeps the fabric away from Dimitri's face. His senses go haywire - the slurps and gulps are louder than usual, and he can practically taste his own blood on his tongue, the metallic scent heavy in the air.
It's almost too much for him to handle, but, as usual, he waits until he begins feeling light-headed, keeping his breathing as steady and calm as possible while his other hand rests uselessly in his lap. ] Dimitri. [ They've done this enough times that they both know what that means.
Once released from the bite, Felix leans against Dimitri and grimaces at the slickness of his skin. Parts of his shirt are damp to the touch now, soaked in blood. It's disgusting. ] Must you be so messy? [ Honestly. ]
[Dimitri’s hands hover at Felix’s sides, still wary of breaching the boundaries between them but ready to steady him should he need it. That is, until Felix comments on the state of him and Dimitri swipes his the back of his hand across his mouth without thinking. It comes away bloody and Dimitri can still feel blood already starting to dry as it drips down his chin.
He has, indeed, made a mess. ]
Erm, I ...apologize. I don’t believe there is proper etiquette to this sort of thing. [Dimitri jokes, but he is genuinely sorry. That shirt is done for.] It didn’t make much of a difference before... [Y’know, when he was feeding on corpses or unsuspecting soldiers. Who cared if blood got everywhere.] I promise I will be more careful if you let me have your neck again.
[ The joke (if "I don't believe there is a proper etiquette to this sort of thing" could be considered as such) falls flat with Felix. He swats his hand away, grumbling at his tentative politeness. How dare he act this way, like he did something so heinous that he's lost his trust. All he did was spill extra blood and make a mess of his shirt. ]
Fine. [ He sits back in his lap and begins undoing the clasps of his cloak. ] Make yourself useful and close the wounds. [ While he... undresses...? ]
[ Felix only pauses after his top layer's removed, discarded carelessly on the floor next to them. ]
Hurry up. I don't have all day. [ The undershirt might be a lost cause, but that doesn't mean he wants everything else unnecessarily bloodstained, thanks. ]
[Dimitri still isn’t the most adept in Faith, despite Byleth and Mercedes’ best efforts, so he needs to concentrate. He can no longer avert his gaze and has to focus on the wound rather than Felix’s bare chest just inches away from him.
Thankfully, Dimitri’s instinct to protect and take care of Felix overpowers any other unsavory thoughts he might have. He hovers one hand over the puncture wounds, closes his good eye, and wills all the warmth and good faith into Felix’s body.
Back when they were students, Byleth had suggested he take lessons in Faith to round out his skill set. Dimitri had declined because he didn’t think he had an ounce of good energy or faith inside his body. There was no way he could heal or use white magic with his hands, stained with blood and rage.
So he is still surprised, even now after doing this with Felix so many times, when he feels the tingle of magic his hands. He never quite believes it, either. Dimitri still has to confirm, over and over again, that it has been effective. That he’s actually done something good after doing something so monstrous.]
[ Though Dimitri may doubt himself, his ability to heal is undeniable. The two puncture wounds on Felix's neck close up without issue, leaving the skin unmarred. Were it not for the blood, a deep crimson against his paler flesh, it would look like nothing happened at all.
Felix wipes (smears) what he can from his neck with the bloodied shirt. ] I'm fine. I don't feel any pain. [ Much as he hates the fussing, it's better that Dimitri care too much than not at all. ] Are you full?
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Dimitri stands his ground.]
Your neck.
[The flush that rises in his cheeks as he says that doesn’t help him look authoritative at all.]
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But. ] Why should I trust you with that? [ The bruises left in the wake of his hand have faded, but the memory still lingers. He hasn't forgotten how close Dimitri came to killing him - and while he knows he's not as desperate this time (the weekly feedings are to keep that from happening), he doesn't think he can be blamed for being wary. ]
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I can't give you good reason to. [Clearly. Felix wouldn't have to ask if he had reason to trust him. He's already put his neck on the line for Dimitri and Dimitri had crushed it under his fingers. He'd done it countless times before, too. At the rebellion, at the academy. Every time he called Glenn's name instead of Felix's in his delirium.] Not yet. I'm working towards that. For now, I can only give you my word.
[He clenches his biceps.] I won't hurt you again. I swear it, Felix.
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He looks away from Dimitri and tugs a bit on his turtleneck, enough to expose that (once again) flawless pale skin of his. ] Don't give me a reason to regret believing you. If you hurt me, I'll cut you down where you stand. [ (never mind the fact that again, dimitri could very easily kill him if he desired it.)
His eyes flickers down to the bed as he pauses, thinking. ] How do you want me? [ When he'd use his hand, their positioning didn't matter as much. So long as Felix wasn't on his feet, it was fine. But now... well. He can't just hand over his neck like he did his palm. ]
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[(dimitri doesn't want to loom over him. like a shadow. a beast. that would be too much. too similar. too soon.)
Were they in Dimitri’s room, he would just take a seat on his own bed. But it’s Felix’s room and Felix’s bed and Felix’s rules. He, too, glances at the bed.] May I?
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He waves his hand dismissively ] Go ahead. [ but doesn't join him on the bed right away. Pulling up a chair seems ridiculous, but sitting next to him and having both of them crane their heads would be uncomfortable. And he's not keen on the thought of Dimitri biting him from behind in any way.
So, with a short breath, he steps into Dimitri's space. ] Scoot back. [ Once he does, Felix unceremoniously climbs into his lap. With a leg on either side of his, he tugs down the collar of his turtleneck once more. ] This should suffice. [ He says, both to Dimitri and himself. When he's this close, it's harder to avoid Dimitri's gaze, but he still feels... better, like this. ]
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Felix doesn't need to avoid Dimitri's gaze, because Dimitri does that for him. His eye flickers to where their bodies meet, Felix warm on his lap, then to Felix's face, and finally to Felix's neck.] A-as you say. [His brain feels like mush. It must be the hunger, it must be.
Dimitri wants to help Felix tug down his collar - it might be more comfortable it he does it, but he doesn't dare. He doesn't dare overstep. His thoughts are already going haywire; making Felix mad and having him yell at him may only make things worst. He won't provoke him.]
Then, please, excuse me. ["Tell me when to stop" goes unspoken. They've done this enough times that they both know when Felix is about at his limits. But Dimitri still fusses internally. He wont let Felix give more than he needs again.
And with that, he leans in and takes a bite. Dimitri's teeth sink in much easier than they did with his hand.]
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It's almost too much for him to handle, but, as usual, he waits until he begins feeling light-headed, keeping his breathing as steady and calm as possible while his other hand rests uselessly in his lap. ] Dimitri. [ They've done this enough times that they both know what that means.
Once released from the bite, Felix leans against Dimitri and grimaces at the slickness of his skin. Parts of his shirt are damp to the touch now, soaked in blood. It's disgusting. ] Must you be so messy? [ Honestly. ]
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He has, indeed, made a mess. ]
Erm, I ...apologize. I don’t believe there is proper etiquette to this sort of thing. [Dimitri jokes, but he is genuinely sorry. That shirt is done for.] It didn’t make much of a difference before... [Y’know, when he was feeding on corpses or unsuspecting soldiers. Who cared if blood got everywhere.] I promise I will be more careful if you let me have your neck again.
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Fine. [ He sits back in his lap and begins undoing the clasps of his cloak. ] Make yourself useful and close the wounds. [ While he... undresses...? ]
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I'll, um, need you to stay still for that.
[He averts his eyes.]
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Hurry up. I don't have all day. [ The undershirt might be a lost cause, but that doesn't mean he wants everything else unnecessarily bloodstained, thanks. ]
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Thankfully, Dimitri’s instinct to protect and take care of Felix overpowers any other unsavory thoughts he might have. He hovers one hand over the puncture wounds, closes his good eye, and wills all the warmth and good faith into Felix’s body.
Back when they were students, Byleth had suggested he take lessons in Faith to round out his skill set. Dimitri had declined because he didn’t think he had an ounce of good energy or faith inside his body. There was no way he could heal or use white magic with his hands, stained with blood and rage.
So he is still surprised, even now after doing this with Felix so many times, when he feels the tingle of magic his hands. He never quite believes it, either. Dimitri still has to confirm, over and over again, that it has been effective. That he’s actually done something good after doing something so monstrous.]
How does that feel?
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Felix wipes (smears) what he can from his neck with the bloodied shirt. ] I'm fine. I don't feel any pain. [ Much as he hates the fussing, it's better that Dimitri care too much than not at all. ] Are you full?