[ It wasn't often he wandered out from his home, but every so often a sense of restlessness washed through him, the urge to wander. To go seeking something new and exciting. It was how he'd found a great deal of his treasure, and more often than not, how he kept his lair safe. He was a legend in these parts by now, but every so often, the desperate or the foolishly brave wandered into his territory, seeking fame, or riches, or in a few cases, revenge.
He'd watched the party travel deeper into his territory for several days before joining up with them in one of the little scattered villages they stopped at for supplies and gossip. They weren't entirely novices at this, having at least a moderate skill at tracking, but Sylvain still has to stifle his amusement every now and then when one of them shows how ignorant this bunch of humans truly are.
They always are. Some things never change.
There is one among them, however, who draws Sylvain's attention from the very beginning. He'd been separate from the others since the very start, excluded from the easy ribald comradery the warriors shared. It had confused Sylvain at first, because the man clearly had considerable strength of his own. He's still not entirely certain why this one is different from the others.
But the longer he spends in his company, the less he frets about it. It just means it's more time he can hoard for himself. Because that just means the lone human, with his interesting scent and peculiar ways, has more time for Sylvain to steal all for himself.
Like now, as he meanders back into camp with a pair of snared rabbits for himself and Wriothesley. The others were still out hunting, but he knew the young man would have a fire going already - one he heads to without hesitation, holding up his catch with a bright grin. ]
[It’s nothing more than suicide, he thinks. This mission that he found himself stuck on. Honestly, he hadn’t been interested at all, but one has little say when they were nothing more than a slave to do the bidding of royalty.
Life had always been harsh and unfair. From scraping by to see the next morning living off the streets to being sentenced for something he hadn’t done. The things he had done were arbitrary at best, but he had seen how people looked at him. Subhuman. For his blood from parents he never met.
Still, he kept an easy smile up and a casual countenance even if his entire entourage had pretended he didn’t exist. That is, except for one.
A peculiar redhead whom he felt was a little different. It wasn’t something he could put his finger on but he felt that he was talking to someone much too wise and much too knowledgeable in comparison to the others.
If not that, they also smelled different. He trusted his instincts to know this man was more than who they let on. Funnily enough, maybe he doesn’t care either because he feels like they’re more trustworthy than everyone else.
He carefully stokes the fire he had made before looking up at the lingering scent of blood and the sound of Sylvain’s voice.]
Oh? You’re offering me a meal are you? Should I start thinking you’re trying to seduce me? [His tone, of course, is joking.] I can’t say no to a good meal on someone else’s dime.
Hmm. You deserve more than a rabbit, if I were set out to do that.
[ Wriothesley might have been joking, but Sylvain’s voice is thoughtful, seeming to give it serious consideration for a moment before he grins again and brings the rabbits over to Wriothesley's fire.
The other man doesn’t need to know that the redhead has been giving his “seduction” considerable thought already. Has been, since the curiosity of those first few days had melted into intrigue, and then started shifting into something far deeper. Far more possessive.
He’d known the other warriors wouldn’t let Wriothesley go out and hunt for his own dinner, but he doubted any of them had given the man who tended to this company a second thought, either. He didn’t need to hunt for his meal, but making sure the young man went to bed with a full belly had become something Sylvain was quickly becoming fastidious about.
He would see his every need and want met - personally. ]
[An ear twitches and Wriothesley's eyebrows shoot up for a moment as he seems to regard Sylvain's tone and words. Eventually he chuckles. He shouldn't read too much into it.] Careful now. I have to temper my expectations or no one will be able to impress me. I can't set the bar too high.
[Satisfied with the state of the fire, he sits upright.]
How about we start cooking what you caught and then we can sit back with drinks? I have some whiskey left and there's just enough for two cups.
[While the rest of the company is happy to use Wriothesley's resources but not return in kind, and Wriothesley willing to offer, he had kept his alcohol for himself. Sylvain, however, had always been kind to him, so he thinks sharing a cup with the other for their company is a good trade.
He has no idea that Sylvain is actively trying to keep his attention in the first place.]
[ Even if he’s already mentally making notes to replenish the young man’s supplies at the next village they hit.
If they make it as far as the next village. This hunting party is already trying his patience and his little ruse might not last that long, depending on his temper. Or on how they continue treating the young man he settles down beside, sharing his catch, even as he selflessly offers from his own scant supplies. It’s yet another reason he’d drawn the redhead’s interest.
Reaching out, he lightly skims his fingers down Wriothesley’s spine as he settles down comfortably beside his fire, his thigh pressed against the other man’s. ]
Will this be filling enough for you?
[ …He tended to be a bad judge of such things, when it came to humans. ]
[He can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine, feelings fingers run against the back of his shirt and waistcoat. He raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Didn’t that feel a little intimate? Maybe Sylvain was just that friendly.
He decides to brush it off.
Wriothesley unties the tin cup hanging from his belt so he can pour the rest of the whiskey into it. They’ll just have to share the cup together. What’s a little bit of sharing though? He holds the cup out to Sylvain to take a sip.]
If given the chance I can probably eat at least two, honestly. I’ve had to make do eating human portions for awhile though. [Wriothesley had known for awhile that he was half and it had come with a lot of caveats. Mostly negative. Well, if he was going to be denied decent portions even for a human, there was no way he was going to expect to eat meals that will give him a full belly.]
What about you? You seem like a guy with a healthy appetite.
[ Hearing that, Sylvain promptly hands over both rabbits to the other man, exchanging them for the cup Wriothesley holds out. ]
You could say that. [ Understatement, actually. Wriothesley probably had no idea just how healthy Sylvain's appetites were. All of them. ] You take these two, then. If you're still hungry afterwards, I can always go catch a few more.
[ He didn't like the idea of the other man going hungry, or that he'd been doing so for a while now. It had his brow creasing into a frown, lips tugging downward in displeasure that Wriothesley had wanted for anything. He'd fix this. ]
[Wriothesley gives him a strange look even as he takes them from Sylvain. He doesn't hesitate to bring out a hunting knife to start skinning the rabbits carefully. Good quality skins sell well after all.]
You make it sound like you don't plan on eating. You have to keep your strength up too. [And Wriothesley is uncomfortable with accepting the kindness. He's not used to being given things on a silver platter and it shows. He had worked hard to get where he is (even if his current fate is pretty bleak) and it seems strange to suddenly be handed his meals like he doesn't need to work anymore.
It doesn't make sense to him. It makes him wonder if Sylvain was just being overtly kind or if there was an ulterior.
Once he finds a good, sturdy stick to skewer through the rabbit and places it over the flame to cook, he looks back at Sylvain.] I can't just accept a meal if you will want for food in my stead. [It's obvious that Wriothesley knows what it's like to go hungry and doesn't want Sylvain to suffer similarly.]
I'm good for the moment, I snacked earlier. And I still have several traps out there I didn't check yet, so if I get hungry later, I can always go back for them. [ he gives Wriothesley a bemused look, sensing his unease. Casually, he lifts the cup the man had offered to his lips, taking a slow sip before offering it back. ] They didn't seem all that keen on letting you wander too far from the camp earlier, so I thought I'd bring something back for you instead. It was no trouble, and trust me, I'm not the type of person who lets myself go wanting either. Don't worry about it. Eat. You worked hard today.
[ Sylvain groans as he stretches out a muscle twinging in protest, even as he drags his tank up and over his head to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. He opens the door to the locker rooms to be greeted by a wave of steam and the sound of one of them showers running, which is a little surprising because of the hour.
Then again, maybe he’s not the only insomniac in this little town.
Dropping his bag on one of the empty benches, he pulls out a fresh change of clothes and his shower bag, even as he hears that shower turn off. He’s heading for one of the empty stalls when a figure steps out and Sylvain stops short when he realizes he recognizes the guy’s face.
And then goes eerily still when he recognizes more than just the guy’s face. His toned torso, the familiar shadow of scars in his flesh, though they look far more pronounced in person than they do the other times Sylvain has seen them.
Because he’s stared at them a lot. He’s stared at all of this man a lot. Ever since he’d stumbled across his late-night streams and hadn’t been able to click away. He’d been drawn in - just as he’s sure an audience was intended to, but it was more than just the man’s toned body and easy sex appeal. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on what precisely had hooked him first. But hooked he certainly was. If he’s honest with himself, it was an interest that was creeping in on obsessive levels, with how much attention he paid, and how often he made sure to be free so he never missed a stream.
To see Wriothesley’s face connected to the rest of the body he’d been secretly lusting after for weeks now was a momentary dissonance that left him speechless. Because how often had he caught himself watching Wriothesley at work? How often had he been drawn to want to drift closer, to engage him in conversation, to figure out what was going on behind those carefully guarded eyes and the quick, clever brain Sylvain knew lurked there. He’d indulged himself far more than was probably smart, considering how much he didn’t do commitment and relationships, and he’d sensed a similar caution in the other man but this…
This was something else entirely.
Which is his only excuse when he finally manages to gasp out, ] You’re Cerberus? [ before his brain catches up with his mouth, and then he kicks himself for giving himself away. ]
[Wriothesley had been as careful as possible as he could through his life. A carefully crafted life that he built from the bottom up until he had a nice, comfortable little life he could call his own. A nice job, good friends, and a certain peace and quiet that he savored after the tumultuous adolescent he had. The only think he truly lacked was a proper romantic life. That had been the cards he had been given though, opting to just appreciate the friends he had and to fulfill his sex life behind a screen.
He had split that part of his life from his day life though, the only people knowing were his closest confidants.
And it had been perfect and undetected all this time. Until now.
Wriothesley looks at Sylvain with wide eyes and a shocked expression. He had chosen this gym because it was so far away from his work place. Still enough that the commute wasn't suffering but far enough that there were plenty of other gyms people could go to than this. He had also chosen unideal hours, yet-]
Wha- [Woah, hey. You can't just go saying his porn name out loud like that. Nevermind there was literally no one else here but them. He instinctively tightens the towel around his waist to keep himself decent. Hilarious because Sylvain probably has seen far enough of him that the towel was merely a formality than anything else.] Don't say that name out loud!
[There's no point in trying to deny it, but at least don't say it out loud. Have some tact.] What are you even doing here? rarely anyone else comes at this hour. [He should know given this was his usual time at the gym.]
[ Sorry, his brain’s still tripping over the fact that his two very taboo and totally not allowed crushes in two entirely different worlds… were somehow the same person.
Fate’s sense of irony was really a bitch sometimes.
Amber eyes blink at him a moment longer as he shakes his head in slight disbelief, before glancing around and double-checking the fact that they were still the only two people here. At least there was that. ]
[It truly would be his luck that this is all just very unfortunate timing. He sighs after a moment. There’s no use being upset or mad. Nothing can be changed now that Sylvain has seen him and knows his other night life.
Nevermind that there’s a lot to unpack here. Like the fact that Sylvain apparently watches his streams.
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He’s somehow feeling incredibly self conscious.]
That makes two of us. I didn’t realize that… [He doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Watches camboys? Has interest in him shoving dildos up his ass and moaning like a dog in heat?
Should he turn in his resignation tomorrow???] Small world I guess…
[ Another thing he gets to learn tonight: Wriothesley is adorable when flustered and embarrassed. Although considering Sylvain is the one that’s put him in this awkward position, he really should even the playing field. Especially because now that he knows his two crushes are actually the same person, it sheds some light on some other things he’d been missing and that just makes him… Intrigued.
Although I guess if we’re exchanging secret identities…
[ He leans forward, abruptly leaning into Wriothesley’s personal space before he can react and pull back, his lips brushing against the curve of the man’s ear.
And deliberately drops his voice into the register he frequently used on his own vlog, the tones that had made him pretty famous in the same circles Wriothesley entertained in, even if they did it in different ways. It was a little deeper than his normal speaking voice, an intent and focus behind it, one that was deliberately aimed at a Submissive’s weak spot. A cheating tactic that many Dominants had, and Sylvain always tried very hard not to abuse.
Although he couldn’t help using it just a little right now. If only to let Wriothesley in on a little secret. ]
I’m surprised you haven’t recognized me before now.
[His impulse is to jerk back when the other suddenly closes into his personal space. The voice that’s spoken against his ears makes his knees buckle; suddenly finding his mind go wonderfully blank.
Oh…
He can feel his face grow hot and he finds that finding any words is immensely difficult. His entire body was already yearning for more.
That was definitely the voice of the man whom he has definitely jerked off to many times. His own little crush.
He thinks he might die from embarrassment.] You- [He swallows audibly.] You can’t just spring that on a guy…
[ His hands goes to Wriothesley’s elbows to steady him when he sees the man sway in response to the tone he’d just hit him with. His grin only grows as he sees that red spread along his flesh, tickled by the effect that had had.
Cerberus has mentioned him several times in his streams now, and Sylvain had often sent a similar callback in acknowledgement in one of his. He’d amused himself with the idea of this flirtation happening between two complete strangers, enjoying the exchanges whenever they cropped up.
To know he’d been flirting with the same quiet, intense man he’d been watching for weeks now at his friend’s company… ]
[He scowls a little in response, but there’s very little bite to it. The flushed face and the way his pupils are blown wide make it hard to take the man’s glare too seriously.
Archons, it’s one thing to flirt in streams and have anonymity to obscure things. It’s another thing to have them blatantly flirt with him face to face.]
I do. A little too much if you ask me. [Because getting turned in by the sound of Sylvain’s voice is embarrassing.]
You didn’t just do that for shits and giggles did you? [On one hand, maybe it’s better if it was to get a reaction from him. On the other hand…]
[The slight clack of plastic echoes in his office as he carefully places his headset down onto his desk. E-mails checked and replied to and the beeping of his phone alarm indicated that his next appointment was soon.
He carefully got onto his feet and made his way through the hall and out to the actual gym space.
One step, two step, three. Each step carefully counted as he made his way through the familiar space. Wriothesley knew this place like the back of his hand, though it was more necessity than anything else. It wasn't always like this, but it had been his reality for a very long time that it might as well have been.
The boxer had gone through a difficult life, stuck in underground rings and trying to claw himself out of poverty and exploitation. Not soon enough, it seems, given his current state. Still, perhaps it took the severity of his injuries, hospital visits, and grueling court dates to finally find the comfortable life he now had.
The gym had been everything he wanted. A space to help guide people to handling their stress more healthily to just people who wanted to stay fit. The more important service he offered though had been physical therapy. He had known how fight after fight slowly deteriorated even the strongest body. He knew that his own has some damage that can no longer be fixed.
He hoped, at least, that he can prevent that for others.
Speaking of, he had a new client today. He had to ask Sigewinne to read the name out proper lest he embarrass himself when they come face to face.
Well, he hopes not that close. Probably.] Sylvain Gautier? I believe you're my next appointment.
[ Sylvain is here under duress. Mostly because Felix and Dimitri had gotten Mercedes to gang up on him after his most recent injury and absolutely no one could tell that woman no, not even him.
Didn't mean he had to be happy about it - which he wasn't, as he sat in the small waiting room off to one side of the gym's front desk, watching what was going on around him. People training or exercising, a few there for similar reasons as him, he suspected, as he took in several familiar exercises he knew were more physical therapy than fitness.
But when a dark-haired figure carefully makes his way to the front desk, he's a little surprised as he takes in the way he moves, the careful monitoring of the space around him, the calculated steps he takes before stopping. Another PT patient, he thinks, until the man turns and calls his name, his eyes not quite sweeping the room, more scanning in a general direction and waiting for an answer.
Blind, he realizes with a shock, noting how the man's gaze never focuses on any one thing. He's so taken by surprise that there's a long, awkward moment before he remembers his name has been called and he hadn't answered yet. ]
Here. [ he calls back before carefully pushing himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane he's used to help him be mobile over the past few weeks. His left side is still weak, after the devastating lance blow he'd taken in a skirmish. It wasn't one he could just bounce back from, even with the aid of several skilled healers.
And Sylvain had never been a good patient.
But he carefully hobbles his way over to the man who'd called out his name, his cane clicking on the floor off-tempo with his shuffling steps, wondering - not for the first time - what the hell he was doing here. ]
[He hears the creak of the chair as Sylvain rises and he notes the sound of their footsteps and the thud of the cane. He had already read over the information, but hearing what he had read does a lot to help him formulate exactly what they'll need to work on.
He also knows that the man apparently makes for a terrible patient.
He chuckles.] And here I was warned that you'd not be inclined to show up. Let me give you a quick tour of the facilities and then we can go over your particular needs to recovery.
[The gym is well equipped to say the least. It looks like Wriothesley had upkeep on the equipment regularly enough and there were plenty of options to probably try and suit whatever needs whoever was coming to his gym. Wriothesley's attitude was pretty laidback and friendly and it was obvious that he was generally well liked by the patrons with how they all greet him and he greets them back.
Eventually, they move to a secluded part of the gym so they can talk.]
So I've read over the particulars and even with healers, your body needs proper exercise to regain its strength. You're here for obvious reasons, so let's go over a proper schedule and go over exercises you'll want to do while home. Is there anything you wanted to go over on your side? I believe you came here on recommendation.
[ Sylvain lets Wriothesley take the lead, content to follow him and listen as the man gives the spiel about the gym and what it offers. he hates to admit that he is a little impressed by the place, it's layout and what it offers, but he's still stubborn enough that he's not ready to admit that yet.
Still, he sinks down on an empty bench with a quiet groan when they finally stop in a quiet section of the gym to discuss why he's here, and he stretches his leg out to massage it a little as he settles with his weight off it again.
Wriothesly's words just have him snorting, though. ]
I was bullied into it, actually. And I was hoping you could tell me, honestly. This is the first time an injury has put me out of commission this long. Usually it's a stretch of bedrest, maybe taking it easy for a few weeks after that... I'm used to bouncing back pretty quickly so this has been... frustrating.
You have good friends if you're being bullied for the sake of your health. [He immediately thinks about a certain little nurse who would easily have him folding if he had any injuries that needed to be cared for. After all, Wriothesley was a hypocrite deep down.]
No two injuries are really alike. It just means your previous injuries didn't hit places where it didn't severely impact you in ways. Human bodies are complex and it sounds like you had a pretty bad hit or perhaps this is your body telling you that it needs more than what you used to offer it before when you got injured.
[Wriothesley kneels down next to the bench, hand carefully gliding over the material before eventually finding Sylvain and resting his hands on the redhead's knee.] We get plenty of fighters that come in with similar injuries. I, myself, had some pretty serious injuries when I was younger. Even now, I have some lingering pain from that time, but I wasn't able to get it handled at the time, so I would urge you to take things seriously.
[ He blinks down at that hand on his knee in surprise, but he makes no effort to move away. he's just not used to that sort of tactile contact. Not without an ulterior motive anyway.
Still, he manages a chuckle at the words, shifting slightly as he tries to find a comfortable position that won't send twinges of pain up his leg and hip. ]
Don't worry, I'm taking it as seriously as I'd take anything. [ Which isn't actually saying much, but Wriothesley doesn't need to know that. ] I'm benched and at your disposal until you clear me, so that makes you the boss.
Hmm? Somehow I feel like you don't take many things seriously, so I wonder if that statement has any weight to it. [After all, Sylvain wouldn't have come to him if the redhead wasn't basically coerced to do it.
He smiles easily in Sylvain's direction. It's more obvious from this closeness how Wriothesley's eyes don't focus on anything.]
I'd like you to consider me more as a partner. I want to help you recover and make good choices for your body. I don't want you to feel like it's an obligation that comes with listening to a boss. You should want to make a strong recovery for yourself.
[He thrums his fingers gently against Sylvain's knee.] Well let's start with goals. Let's decide your long term end goal and then we can decide some smaller goals to make throughout your treatment.
I take important things seriously. [ Sometimes. Or maybe that just depends on who considers it important.
He hasn’t missed the way Wriothesley orients himself around his surroundings. He hasn’t said anything, of course - that would just be rude - but he does find himself mildly curious. Still, it doesn’t seem to impact his ability to help people with their own rehab here. ]
Long term goals? I mean, I just want to be able to walk again without limping at this point. Or needing a crutch to help keep me upright.
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A Dragon's Treasure
He'd watched the party travel deeper into his territory for several days before joining up with them in one of the little scattered villages they stopped at for supplies and gossip. They weren't entirely novices at this, having at least a moderate skill at tracking, but Sylvain still has to stifle his amusement every now and then when one of them shows how ignorant this bunch of humans truly are.
They always are. Some things never change.
There is one among them, however, who draws Sylvain's attention from the very beginning. He'd been separate from the others since the very start, excluded from the easy ribald comradery the warriors shared. It had confused Sylvain at first, because the man clearly had considerable strength of his own. He's still not entirely certain why this one is different from the others.
But the longer he spends in his company, the less he frets about it. It just means it's more time he can hoard for himself. Because that just means the lone human, with his interesting scent and peculiar ways, has more time for Sylvain to steal all for himself.
Like now, as he meanders back into camp with a pair of snared rabbits for himself and Wriothesley. The others were still out hunting, but he knew the young man would have a fire going already - one he heads to without hesitation, holding up his catch with a bright grin. ]
Hungry?
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Life had always been harsh and unfair. From scraping by to see the next morning living off the streets to being sentenced for something he hadn’t done. The things he had done were arbitrary at best, but he had seen how people looked at him. Subhuman. For his blood from parents he never met.
Still, he kept an easy smile up and a casual countenance even if his entire entourage had pretended he didn’t exist. That is, except for one.
A peculiar redhead whom he felt was a little different. It wasn’t something he could put his finger on but he felt that he was talking to someone much too wise and much too knowledgeable in comparison to the others.
If not that, they also smelled different. He trusted his instincts to know this man was more than who they let on. Funnily enough, maybe he doesn’t care either because he feels like they’re more trustworthy than everyone else.
He carefully stokes the fire he had made before looking up at the lingering scent of blood and the sound of Sylvain’s voice.]
Oh? You’re offering me a meal are you? Should I start thinking you’re trying to seduce me? [His tone, of course, is joking.] I can’t say no to a good meal on someone else’s dime.
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[ Wriothesley might have been joking, but Sylvain’s voice is thoughtful, seeming to give it serious consideration for a moment before he grins again and brings the rabbits over to Wriothesley's fire.
The other man doesn’t need to know that the redhead has been giving his “seduction” considerable thought already. Has been, since the curiosity of those first few days had melted into intrigue, and then started shifting into something far deeper. Far more possessive.
He’d known the other warriors wouldn’t let Wriothesley go out and hunt for his own dinner, but he doubted any of them had given the man who tended to this company a second thought, either. He didn’t need to hunt for his meal, but making sure the young man went to bed with a full belly had become something Sylvain was quickly becoming fastidious about.
He would see his every need and want met - personally. ]
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[Satisfied with the state of the fire, he sits upright.]
How about we start cooking what you caught and then we can sit back with drinks? I have some whiskey left and there's just enough for two cups.
[While the rest of the company is happy to use Wriothesley's resources but not return in kind, and Wriothesley willing to offer, he had kept his alcohol for himself. Sylvain, however, had always been kind to him, so he thinks sharing a cup with the other for their company is a good trade.
He has no idea that Sylvain is actively trying to keep his attention in the first place.]
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[ Even if he’s already mentally making notes to replenish the young man’s supplies at the next village they hit.
If they make it as far as the next village. This hunting party is already trying his patience and his little ruse might not last that long, depending on his temper. Or on how they continue treating the young man he settles down beside, sharing his catch, even as he selflessly offers from his own scant supplies. It’s yet another reason he’d drawn the redhead’s interest.
Reaching out, he lightly skims his fingers down Wriothesley’s spine as he settles down comfortably beside his fire, his thigh pressed against the other man’s. ]
Will this be filling enough for you?
[ …He tended to be a bad judge of such things, when it came to humans. ]
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He decides to brush it off.
Wriothesley unties the tin cup hanging from his belt so he can pour the rest of the whiskey into it. They’ll just have to share the cup together. What’s a little bit of sharing though? He holds the cup out to Sylvain to take a sip.]
If given the chance I can probably eat at least two, honestly. I’ve had to make do eating human portions for awhile though. [Wriothesley had known for awhile that he was half and it had come with a lot of caveats. Mostly negative. Well, if he was going to be denied decent portions even for a human, there was no way he was going to expect to eat meals that will give him a full belly.]
What about you? You seem like a guy with a healthy appetite.
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You could say that. [ Understatement, actually. Wriothesley probably had no idea just how healthy Sylvain's appetites were. All of them. ] You take these two, then. If you're still hungry afterwards, I can always go catch a few more.
[ He didn't like the idea of the other man going hungry, or that he'd been doing so for a while now. It had his brow creasing into a frown, lips tugging downward in displeasure that Wriothesley had wanted for anything. He'd fix this. ]
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You make it sound like you don't plan on eating. You have to keep your strength up too. [And Wriothesley is uncomfortable with accepting the kindness. He's not used to being given things on a silver platter and it shows. He had worked hard to get where he is (even if his current fate is pretty bleak) and it seems strange to suddenly be handed his meals like he doesn't need to work anymore.
It doesn't make sense to him. It makes him wonder if Sylvain was just being overtly kind or if there was an ulterior.
Once he finds a good, sturdy stick to skewer through the rabbit and places it over the flame to cook, he looks back at Sylvain.] I can't just accept a meal if you will want for food in my stead. [It's obvious that Wriothesley knows what it's like to go hungry and doesn't want Sylvain to suffer similarly.]
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Hidden Instincts
Then again, maybe he’s not the only insomniac in this little town.
Dropping his bag on one of the empty benches, he pulls out a fresh change of clothes and his shower bag, even as he hears that shower turn off. He’s heading for one of the empty stalls when a figure steps out and Sylvain stops short when he realizes he recognizes the guy’s face.
And then goes eerily still when he recognizes more than just the guy’s face. His toned torso, the familiar shadow of scars in his flesh, though they look far more pronounced in person than they do the other times Sylvain has seen them.
Because he’s stared at them a lot. He’s stared at all of this man a lot. Ever since he’d stumbled across his late-night streams and hadn’t been able to click away. He’d been drawn in - just as he’s sure an audience was intended to, but it was more than just the man’s toned body and easy sex appeal. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on what precisely had hooked him first. But hooked he certainly was. If he’s honest with himself, it was an interest that was creeping in on obsessive levels, with how much attention he paid, and how often he made sure to be free so he never missed a stream.
To see Wriothesley’s face connected to the rest of the body he’d been secretly lusting after for weeks now was a momentary dissonance that left him speechless. Because how often had he caught himself watching Wriothesley at work? How often had he been drawn to want to drift closer, to engage him in conversation, to figure out what was going on behind those carefully guarded eyes and the quick, clever brain Sylvain knew lurked there. He’d indulged himself far more than was probably smart, considering how much he didn’t do commitment and relationships, and he’d sensed a similar caution in the other man but this…
This was something else entirely.
Which is his only excuse when he finally manages to gasp out, ] You’re Cerberus? [ before his brain catches up with his mouth, and then he kicks himself for giving himself away. ]
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He had split that part of his life from his day life though, the only people knowing were his closest confidants.
And it had been perfect and undetected all this time. Until now.
Wriothesley looks at Sylvain with wide eyes and a shocked expression. He had chosen this gym because it was so far away from his work place. Still enough that the commute wasn't suffering but far enough that there were plenty of other gyms people could go to than this. He had also chosen unideal hours, yet-]
Wha- [Woah, hey. You can't just go saying his porn name out loud like that. Nevermind there was literally no one else here but them. He instinctively tightens the towel around his waist to keep himself decent. Hilarious because Sylvain probably has seen far enough of him that the towel was merely a formality than anything else.] Don't say that name out loud!
[There's no point in trying to deny it, but at least don't say it out loud. Have some tact.] What are you even doing here? rarely anyone else comes at this hour. [He should know given this was his usual time at the gym.]
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[ Sorry, his brain’s still tripping over the fact that his two very taboo and totally not allowed crushes in two entirely different worlds… were somehow the same person.
Fate’s sense of irony was really a bitch sometimes.
Amber eyes blink at him a moment longer as he shakes his head in slight disbelief, before glancing around and double-checking the fact that they were still the only two people here. At least there was that. ]
Sorry. I didn’t mean… I was just… surprised.
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Nevermind that there’s a lot to unpack here. Like the fact that Sylvain apparently watches his streams.
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He’s somehow feeling incredibly self conscious.]
That makes two of us. I didn’t realize that… [He doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Watches camboys? Has interest in him shoving dildos up his ass and moaning like a dog in heat?
Should he turn in his resignation tomorrow???] Small world I guess…
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[ Another thing he gets to learn tonight: Wriothesley is adorable when flustered and embarrassed. Although considering Sylvain is the one that’s put him in this awkward position, he really should even the playing field. Especially because now that he knows his two crushes are actually the same person, it sheds some light on some other things he’d been missing and that just makes him… Intrigued.
Although I guess if we’re exchanging secret identities…
[ He leans forward, abruptly leaning into Wriothesley’s personal space before he can react and pull back, his lips brushing against the curve of the man’s ear.
And deliberately drops his voice into the register he frequently used on his own vlog, the tones that had made him pretty famous in the same circles Wriothesley entertained in, even if they did it in different ways. It was a little deeper than his normal speaking voice, an intent and focus behind it, one that was deliberately aimed at a Submissive’s weak spot. A cheating tactic that many Dominants had, and Sylvain always tried very hard not to abuse.
Although he couldn’t help using it just a little right now. If only to let Wriothesley in on a little secret. ]
I’m surprised you haven’t recognized me before now.
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Oh…
He can feel his face grow hot and he finds that finding any words is immensely difficult. His entire body was already yearning for more.
That was definitely the voice of the man whom he has definitely jerked off to many times. His own little crush.
He thinks he might die from embarrassment.] You- [He swallows audibly.] You can’t just spring that on a guy…
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Cerberus has mentioned him several times in his streams now, and Sylvain had often sent a similar callback in acknowledgement in one of his. He’d amused himself with the idea of this flirtation happening between two complete strangers, enjoying the exchanges whenever they cropped up.
To know he’d been flirting with the same quiet, intense man he’d been watching for weeks now at his friend’s company… ]
I thought you were quite fond of my voice.
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Archons, it’s one thing to flirt in streams and have anonymity to obscure things. It’s another thing to have them blatantly flirt with him face to face.]
I do. A little too much if you ask me. [Because getting turned in by the sound of Sylvain’s voice is embarrassing.]
You didn’t just do that for shits and giggles did you? [On one hand, maybe it’s better if it was to get a reaction from him. On the other hand…]
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Blind Touch
He carefully got onto his feet and made his way through the hall and out to the actual gym space.
One step, two step, three. Each step carefully counted as he made his way through the familiar space. Wriothesley knew this place like the back of his hand, though it was more necessity than anything else. It wasn't always like this, but it had been his reality for a very long time that it might as well have been.
The boxer had gone through a difficult life, stuck in underground rings and trying to claw himself out of poverty and exploitation. Not soon enough, it seems, given his current state. Still, perhaps it took the severity of his injuries, hospital visits, and grueling court dates to finally find the comfortable life he now had.
The gym had been everything he wanted. A space to help guide people to handling their stress more healthily to just people who wanted to stay fit. The more important service he offered though had been physical therapy. He had known how fight after fight slowly deteriorated even the strongest body. He knew that his own has some damage that can no longer be fixed.
He hoped, at least, that he can prevent that for others.
Speaking of, he had a new client today. He had to ask Sigewinne to read the name out proper lest he embarrass himself when they come face to face.
Well, he hopes not that close. Probably.] Sylvain Gautier? I believe you're my next appointment.
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Didn't mean he had to be happy about it - which he wasn't, as he sat in the small waiting room off to one side of the gym's front desk, watching what was going on around him. People training or exercising, a few there for similar reasons as him, he suspected, as he took in several familiar exercises he knew were more physical therapy than fitness.
But when a dark-haired figure carefully makes his way to the front desk, he's a little surprised as he takes in the way he moves, the careful monitoring of the space around him, the calculated steps he takes before stopping. Another PT patient, he thinks, until the man turns and calls his name, his eyes not quite sweeping the room, more scanning in a general direction and waiting for an answer.
Blind, he realizes with a shock, noting how the man's gaze never focuses on any one thing. He's so taken by surprise that there's a long, awkward moment before he remembers his name has been called and he hadn't answered yet. ]
Here. [ he calls back before carefully pushing himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane he's used to help him be mobile over the past few weeks. His left side is still weak, after the devastating lance blow he'd taken in a skirmish. It wasn't one he could just bounce back from, even with the aid of several skilled healers.
And Sylvain had never been a good patient.
But he carefully hobbles his way over to the man who'd called out his name, his cane clicking on the floor off-tempo with his shuffling steps, wondering - not for the first time - what the hell he was doing here. ]
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He also knows that the man apparently makes for a terrible patient.
He chuckles.] And here I was warned that you'd not be inclined to show up. Let me give you a quick tour of the facilities and then we can go over your particular needs to recovery.
[The gym is well equipped to say the least. It looks like Wriothesley had upkeep on the equipment regularly enough and there were plenty of options to probably try and suit whatever needs whoever was coming to his gym. Wriothesley's attitude was pretty laidback and friendly and it was obvious that he was generally well liked by the patrons with how they all greet him and he greets them back.
Eventually, they move to a secluded part of the gym so they can talk.]
So I've read over the particulars and even with healers, your body needs proper exercise to regain its strength. You're here for obvious reasons, so let's go over a proper schedule and go over exercises you'll want to do while home. Is there anything you wanted to go over on your side? I believe you came here on recommendation.
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Still, he sinks down on an empty bench with a quiet groan when they finally stop in a quiet section of the gym to discuss why he's here, and he stretches his leg out to massage it a little as he settles with his weight off it again.
Wriothesly's words just have him snorting, though. ]
I was bullied into it, actually. And I was hoping you could tell me, honestly. This is the first time an injury has put me out of commission this long. Usually it's a stretch of bedrest, maybe taking it easy for a few weeks after that... I'm used to bouncing back pretty quickly so this has been... frustrating.
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No two injuries are really alike. It just means your previous injuries didn't hit places where it didn't severely impact you in ways. Human bodies are complex and it sounds like you had a pretty bad hit or perhaps this is your body telling you that it needs more than what you used to offer it before when you got injured.
[Wriothesley kneels down next to the bench, hand carefully gliding over the material before eventually finding Sylvain and resting his hands on the redhead's knee.] We get plenty of fighters that come in with similar injuries. I, myself, had some pretty serious injuries when I was younger. Even now, I have some lingering pain from that time, but I wasn't able to get it handled at the time, so I would urge you to take things seriously.
GOD WHERE DID JUNE GO
Still, he manages a chuckle at the words, shifting slightly as he tries to find a comfortable position that won't send twinges of pain up his leg and hip. ]
Don't worry, I'm taking it as seriously as I'd take anything. [ Which isn't actually saying much, but Wriothesley doesn't need to know that. ] I'm benched and at your disposal until you clear me, so that makes you the boss.
July happened.
He smiles easily in Sylvain's direction. It's more obvious from this closeness how Wriothesley's eyes don't focus on anything.]
I'd like you to consider me more as a partner. I want to help you recover and make good choices for your body. I don't want you to feel like it's an obligation that comes with listening to a boss. You should want to make a strong recovery for yourself.
[He thrums his fingers gently against Sylvain's knee.] Well let's start with goals. Let's decide your long term end goal and then we can decide some smaller goals to make throughout your treatment.
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He hasn’t missed the way Wriothesley orients himself around his surroundings. He hasn’t said anything, of course - that would just be rude - but he does find himself mildly curious. Still, it doesn’t seem to impact his ability to help people with their own rehab here. ]
Long term goals? I mean, I just want to be able to walk again without limping at this point. Or needing a crutch to help keep me upright.
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