coffee hell 5

[warmskies]

 "I knew you wouldn't keep me away forever," Sylvain announces, swinging down into a seat and watching as Dimitri purses his lips like he's already regretting his decision.

That would be because Dimitri has the most stiff idea of how to date people, sometimes. That's fine, to a degree. Sylvain won't blame him for the things he knows his oldest friend wants to do: wine and dine, fairy tale romances, knight in shining armor finding his one true love, all of that. It's sappy and corny as hell, yeah, but the base idea really isn't bad. Sylvain even used to imagine how it would feel to use it himself... or, maybe more accurately, how it would be to be on the receiving end of such treatment, when he was really daydreaming.

So, yeah, the base idea isn't bad. It's that Dimitri can be so unyielding sometimes, because his stubbornness can kick in at the worst moments, and that's a problem when he thinks that Sylvain's own womanizer type habits are basically on the level of chainsmoking: gross, bad for the health, and an affront to everyone involved. To a certain degree, he might not even be wrong... but then, that and a lot of other reasons are why Sylvain hasn't actually done any hardcore flirting in a while now.

Leaning back in his seat, messenger bag dropping down under the booth, he wonders if Dimitri will ever realize that fact. His friend is fantastic but, for rather understandable reasons, can get lost in his own head, and it's not like they room with each other anymore. There's no reason for him to have realized just yet.

Regardless of the discussion on "what kind of flirting is good or not", there is no denying that he has a wealth of knowledge on dates, and what constitute ones that people like. He's positive that he can help Dimitri out, so long as he just has an idea of what's happening at all.

Dimitri must realize this on some level as well, although he'd dig his heels in and collapse to the floor if anyone ever tried to drag it out of him. All he does is sigh, hands curling around his cup of water. "You know, one of these days I really will hold to it," Dimitri threatens, all bark and no bite. "I won't talk to you for an entire year." 

Reaching over across the table, Sylvain touches one hand and smiles up at Dimitri with something that might actually be a little more honest. "No, you won't."

Commendably, Dimitri keeps his mouth screwed up in a frown for a whole ten seconds before he gives in. "No, I won't." They both know that, so long as Dimitri is stable and healthy, he won't do what he did a few years ago. They know he won't disappear off the face of the earth for any of his friends, and put them all through that again. He wouldn't even dream to use it as a threat.

Sylvain gives a brief squeeze of his fingers before he pulls back, laughing. "Anyway, we share too many friends! I'd love to see you try, honestly. Can you imagine attending Ingrid's next birthday party while avoiding me at the same time?"

That's around when the server drops by, and Sylvain pauses in his teasing to grin up at her and give a quick drink order. It's not a hugely fancy place they're meeting for lunch at. Just a local-run grill joint, enough to fit in a couple dozen people and have that be more than cozy enough. Most importantly, Dimitri has deemed it healthy enough for his diet along with not being too much on most casual lunch hours.

Still... "You know, we should go get lunch together on one of your cheat days," he muses, leaning forward with his arms on the table. "I'd love to treat you at some point."

"I have a perfectly fine job, Sylvain," Dimitri tells him. "I can pay for myself, so it's okay."

"So?" Sylvain grins all the wider. "That doesn't mean I can't spoil you if I want. Awwww, I remember when we were younger, in middle school, and you got so excited whenever I brought you some snack or other from the student store-"

"I- you can't hold things against me from middle school!"

"Felix does." Leaning back, he folds his hands behind his head and winks. "Anyway, next time, seriously. I'm always more than happy to nurture anything that gets you to relax more. Speaking of which..."

Dimitri shakes his head. "Could you at least wait until I have food in front of me to act as a convenient distraction? I ask for so little."

Sometimes, Sylvain thinks Dimitri should ask for a lot more, with how much he's always held himself back. Still, he shrugs. "As you wish, Your Highness," he teases, using the old nickname from their school days. Fortunately, it doesn't take long for the server to return and take both of their orders.

True to form, Dimitri gets a simple tortilla soup along with a house salad, while Sylvain goes for the fish option himself. While everything is being cooked up in the kitchen, they exchange much more idle chatter. Things like how his sessions with the Byleths have been going, Felix's latest video, how it is living next door now to what is perhaps the most perfect romantic relationship that exists in the city at this point.

"I really don't know how I ever thought I could match up to them when it came to Halloween," Dimitri is in the process of saying by the time their food finally arrives. He's long switched out his water for soda at Sylvain's patient nudging. It's a treat the redhead knows his friend really is enjoying, and he'll work off everything come morning anyway; there's no harm to it. "Mercedes baked cookies and brownies herself alongside the usual store bought candy as an alternative. Despite how cautious parents seem to be these days, no one seemed to refuse her whenever I looked down the hall. I'm honestly envious..."

Twirling his fork in his hand, Sylvain laughs. "Of course Mercedes would have people dancing in the palm of her hand in a heartbeat. She's a sweet-looking and kind-hearted pretty lady who works at a church. She's the absolute personification of nonthreatening. You know, to strangers and people who haven't gotten on her blunt side." Sylvain winks, teasing at his own experiences with their friend. "Don't be too hard on yourself for not winning against a Royal Flush when the Goddess was dealing out the cards."

"I think I would like a new dealer," Dimitri snorts.

"Wouldn't we all." Sylvain laughs again, this time a little lower and into his hand. "But if we're talking jealousy, then I'm the one who should really be jealous. I bet you and Ingrid got a whole platter of cookies at the very start of the night before those kids were anywhere near your floor, right? It's been way too long since I've gotten to have some of her baking, or Dedue's cooking..."

"I'm fairly certain you had all of those things when you were helping them move into their new apartment."

"And that was what, a month, two months ago?" Sylvain shakes his head in mock despair. "You just don't get it, Dimitri. You live next door to them. How many times have you ended up having dinner at their place?"

"...Four."

"Lucky." Slicing through his fish, Sylvain quirks up an eyebrow at Dimitri. "But I'll spare you any further bullying on this, and get to the real subject of conversation: your first date with Claude. At least, that's where we can start."

Honestly, he wants to know about every little thing that's gone on between Dimitri and his coffee-making beau. Whatever the first date involved, it obviously made a decent impression of some sort, if they attended a protest together. (Which, can he just say? He has so many questions on that alone.)

"So, come on, tell me everything. Where did you take him? Please tell me it wasn't something like taking him to one of those courses where you learn to forage for edible plants and make a meal out of them."

Wrong choice of example. With his spoon swirling lazily around in his soup, Dimitri shifts forward with clear interest. "There are classes like that?"

Sometimes, Sylvain really worries for all his friends- although, in cases like this, the worry is pretty shallow, and easily swallowed up by amusement and heart aching fondness. Ingrid has won eating contests and never grew out of her horse girl phase from middle school. Felix is probably on some sort of watch list with the amount of swords he keeps in his apartment, which Sylvain never thought was legal but apparently is. And then there's Dimitri.... sitting here in front of him, genuinely asking about foraging classes as though he's genuinely considering fucking off into the wilderness to eat dandelions for the rest of his life.

And to think that all their families spent so much time trying to mold them into the perfect students, the perfect adults. Sylvain reflects on this, and can't help the embers of vindictive pleasure that burn.

Still, he should probably keep Dimitri from sitting in a forest eating grass straight from the ground, so Sylvain snaps his fingers between the two of them. "Focus, Dimitri. Your first date with Claude! I have to know everything. Or, barring that, at least tell me where you went. I can imagine things from there."

"You know, I worry about where your imagination could go..." Dimitri busies himself with another spoonful of soup, a faint blush gathering along his cheeks. Yet Sylvain doesn't think it's a bad one... Not with the soft and distant way Dimitri stares down at the tabletop. He patiently waits until an answer is finally murmured out. "We went to the zoo together."

Sylvain blinks, and takes in what he knows of Attractive Mystery Barista Claude. That's mostly two things, even without the fact that he absolutely went digging through his social media feed once Felix had tagged him in his post. The first is that Claude is clearly curious and a risk taker. Sylvain wasn't lying when he said he was expecting both of them to be turned down; he'd had a whole spiel prepared and everything to go comfort Dimitri after like a week had passed. (He knows Dimitri would have been beating himself up for at least that long, after all.) Yet that Claude had not only decided to actually accept the interest in him, but that he'd gone for the awkward mess that is one of Sylvain's dearest friends? Well.... There are only so many conclusions one can draw from that course of action.

The second is that any guy who regularly goes to protests- something some social media diving had definitely confirmed- is pretty active to some degree. That's doubly true for the kind of guy who goes to protests and blasts an instrument the entire time, which requires an admirable amount of lung space besides just the stamina for running around and hauling instruments.

So they have a guy who's curious enough to want to learn more about things that catch his attention, the energy and stamina to keep up with it, and a boring job full of repetition where he mostly just stands around. Sylvain wonders if Dimitri had picked up, consciously or subconsciously, that something like walking around a zoo with all its exhibits would appeal to that kind of person the best. Still, he can't help teasing him, grinning when he says, "So who helped you pick out such a fun date spot?"

Dimitri blushes and doesn't deny it. He just mutters into his soup, "I went to Ashe and Annette for help."

Ha. Sylvain smiles. "Honestly, if you refused to come to me, you couldn't have picked a better pair. Well, now you have to tell me every little detail. I mean..." He winks. "You're head over heels for him, aren't you?"

Yeah, he is. It's in the soft delight in his eye, the way his mouth curves so fondly just remember the date at all, how his thumbs rub along his spoon in his telltale quirk that something is on his mind. It's a good look on him, one that he hasn't worn for so many years now. Sylvain remembers being more than a little infatuated with it himself when they were younger, when their lives were a little neater.

So he doesn't even try to stop Dimitri as his friend begins to tell the whole story, clumsy and a little disorganized and utterly in love. All he does is, occasionally, steer him back on track when Dimitri doesn't quite answer a question or wanders off just a little too much in his story telling. After more than a few years, Sylvain has adjusted so that he can mostly tell sort of what Dimitri means to say when he doesn't outright say it, but even he has his limits.

The good news is that, because of this, Dimitri doesn't skimp on details the more caught up he gets in telling Sylvain about that day. Sylvain doesn't doubt he has it completely memorized, written thrice over now probably: in his phone for notes, and notes that would get written into his journal, and then finally notes written on his computer. No one can say that Dimitri isn't diligent in his therapy homework, to an extent that Sylvain doubts the Byleths could have foreseen. Sylvain takes in every detail, every bit Dimitri pays special attention to, and finds himself smiling along with complete sincerity.

If he's honest- a rare thing, he knows, he knows- then Sylvain would have to admit that he was a little bit worried about all of this. Dimitri has always been sort of... fragile, ever since they were kids and he lost his parents. Ever since the world thought it fair to try and shove so much onto a kid- even without all of Dimitri's personal issues, but a kid.

Dimitri tries to act as though it's not a big deal, of course. That's simply how he is, always trying to live up to the expectations other people have for him and that they often convinced him were his own expectations from the start. All that ended up doing was having him hide the things about himself, things he thought were undesirable rather than just parts of him and, well...

It didn't end well. Sylvain had always know that it was never going to end well, but he had no idea how bad it was going to be until him, Ingrid, Felix, and Dedue had all realized that Dimitri hadn't talked to a single one of them in three days.

So, yeah, as much as he'd been delighted that someone had actually taken an interest in Dimitri, a small part of him had always been watching and waiting warily. It's why, even as he'd been wincing at Felix's picture on his account, he'd been relieved to finally have something to follow up on with Claude's name being tagged on it as well. Maybe he never needed to do that kind of snooping, however. Not with how happy Dimitri looks, and all the little details he includes in his story.

Dimitri would only remember such things if they were really precious to him.

By the time Dimitri is done with the whole tale, their plates have been cleared completely, and Sylvain's ordered a lemon cream cheese danish that he'll only eat half of before trying to nudge it in Dimitri's direction. Dimitri, for his part, had refilled his soda at some point, which he enjoys lazily. "So, you have your second date idea finally thought out, right?" Sylvain asks, waiting for their pastry.

Dimitri nods, toying with his straw. "Claude has a friend, a roommate, named Hilda. She came to visit one day- I'm helping with the website she runs for their protest  band. At least, that's what I'd like to do. While she was there, she- well, we talked about a lot of things."

The way Dimitri stumbles around whatever actually was discussed is suspicious all on its own, and Sylvain raises his eyebrow with a playful grin.

Dimitri just refuses to look at him, stubbornly forging onwards. "At any rate, I admitted that I was struggling with an idea for our next date, and Hilda offered a suggestion to me. There's apparently an arcade of some sorts in the city; she showed me images of it online. It focuses mostly on rather retro games, I've heard? Pinball machines seem to be the most popular, but there are a lot of other things as well, including more modern equipment. At least, that's what she said. I suppose I'll have to see for myself."

"When's the last time you played video games or arcade games at all?" Sylvain laughs, pastry finally arriving. "I haven't seen you online in Awakening in ages!"

"I get on, just, sometimes I forget, and my hours are strange anyway-" He's gesturing as he says it, just a little too worked up, and Dimitri jolts as his glass goes spilling all over himself. "Ah-!"

"Oh, shit-" Forgetting his own food, Sylvain leans forward so that he can slide over a napkin. "Are you alright, Dimitri?"

Sighing morosely, Dimitri accepts the scant amount of help that Sylvain can give him and begins wiping up both the table along with his own clothing. "I'm fine, that was my own mistake.... Ugh." He plucks at his shirt slightly, shoulders slumping. Sylvain can see the problem clear as day before Dimitri even thinks to say anything. "This sort of stain... There's no way I'll be able to get it out. Not quickly, anyway... and I was going to meet Claude right after this..."

Yeah, Sylvain figured. Dimitri hadn't been wearing his best clothes when Sylvain had first walked in, but they were clearly some of his 'for nice occasions' clothing, and Sylvain hadn't been so egotistical to think a casual later afternoon lunch-dinner sort of thing was cause enough to break those out.

He raps his fingers along the table. "Your apartment is close enough to the Golden Deer, isn't it? So you could theoretically run over, change really quickly, and then just head down the street to see him."

It's just... he can see the way Dimitri is so disappointed and annoyed with himself, how much he'd been looking forward to seeing Claude right after meeting with Sylvain. None of it's been hard to discern; Dimitri wears his heart on his sleeve. That's especially true after helpful therapy sessions.

So he barely pauses after his last words before he offers, "Although if you don't mind, I have a spare shirt that I've been carrying around with me, and you can borrow it if you want."

Dimitri's head snaps up, eye wide. "Really? Would that be all right, Sylvain?"

As if he even has to ask. Sylvain grins widely. "We're friends, aren't we, Dima?" Already, he can see the way Dimitri softens at that old nickname. "Besides, we're roughly the same height and size. What little differences there are shouldn't matter too much. At worst, it might be a little tighter on you than me." And he highly doubts that's going to be a problem, considering Claude seems to have the right kind of taste to appreciate a tight shirt on Dimitri.

Among other things.

"I'm truly thankful, Sylvain," Dimitri says as the shirt in question is fetched from Sylvain's bag, still folded up and in plastic. "I'll make it up to you, alright?"

Picking up his bag and Dimitri's- they might not be leaving the restaurant but he's not just ditching them unattended at their table- Sylvain claps his hand to Dimitri's shoulder. "Hey, just being taken off the Banned List is good enough for me!" he laughs. "Come on, let's get you changed as soon as possible. There's no point in waiting while soda sticks to your abs."

The restrooms for the grill aren't huge, but they're good enough for a pair of guys to slide inside away from the crowds. Dimitri has at least a little privacy, peeling his shirt off of himself. While it would probably increase the business to have a tall, blond, handsome guy taking off his clothes in the dining area, well.... Dimitri is the proper sort. Even now, he folds his shirt as neatly as he can. It's not saying much, but he does give it his best shot, and grimaces when his hand passes over the wet spot. "Soda doesn't stain, does it?"

"No idea," Sylvain answers, folding his fingers behind his head again. He'd lean against the wall or the sink but, well. It's a public restroom. He'll do what he has to in them, but also, he's seen what's happened in them. Ashe has told them horror stories. Sylvain will stand on his own. "I imagine you can probably google it when you get home- or, hey, I have no plans after this." He winks. "I can take care of it since you want to head to your date right after."

Carefully sliding the new shirt from its bag, Dimitri shakes his head. "You're doing far too much for me, Sylvain."

"I'm really not." He chuckles. "You can even think of it as my apology to you. Even if my intentions were good, the actions were still crud, right? So let me take care of this one tiny thing, Dimitri."

"If you're really sure..." It really does take haggling to make Dimitri accept help, sometimes, although at least this is better than how he could get when they were younger. Sylvain takes it, watching as Dimitri begins to work the sweater over his head. Yet there's a brief problem, when his head pops up... not where it should be. Dimitri gives a couple of befuddled blinks.. "Sylvain, what..."

Sylvain is pretty sure he's going to choke on his own laughter but, before that happens, he at least manages to walk over to Dimitri. "Okay, no, hold on, you got the wrong hole-"

"Why does a sweater have two holes-"

"You'll see, you'll see~. Just- yeah, that's right, pull your head back in, up this way-" With Dimitri now wearing the sweater properly, Sylvain tugs his shirt down a little while Dimitri works on sliding his hair out. "And, technically, it has five holes, Dimitri."

Dimitri, as it turns out, isn't particularly interested in debating semantics with him. Instead, he's rather more preoccupied with looking down at his chest absolutely bamboozled- the only word that can really describe his expression. Unable to believe his own eyes, he turns to look into the bathroom mirror and experimentally reaches up to thumb at the hole that is indeed right at his chest. "Sylvain," he says, with that careful deliberate tone which has always signaled Sylvain getting in trouble. "What exactly am I wearing?"

"It's called a keyhole sweater," Sylvain answers honestly, because he'll lie to a lot of people, but he'd never lie to Dimitri. Especially not for questions like those. It's a funny enough situation without it. "Haven't you see this sort of thing on the internet?"

"No?"

Sometimes, he really does wonder how Dimitri manages to miss all the hot trends or porn sites. It doesn't seem a conscious effort so much as a natural talent. "It's a trend that got really popular a while back," he explains before pausing. "Frankly, it's still kind of popular, just, you know, in certain circles." The hentai ones. "Normally girls wear them, but I figured, hey...." He presses his hands against his own chest and grins broadly. "I figured that I have a good enough body to pull it off. That means you absolutely have the body for it."

Dimitri sweeps his hair back with a frazzled swing of his hand. "Sylvain, my chest is exposed!"

"Trust me, I noticed." Sylvain winks, playing it up. "Come on, you strip down to only a towel when we go to the gym, right? This is honestly way more modest by comparison."

"There's context for that, Sylvain, honestly." Helplessly, Dimitri tugs at the bottom of the opening as if he can somehow close it. Predictably, it doesn't work. "I can't wear this on my date with Claude!"

Sylvain quirks up an eyebrow. "Why not?" When all he gets is a blank stare from Dimitri, Sylvain laughs a little bit. "I mean, you've already done lots of other casual stuff with him, right? Outside of the date. You mentioned watching a movie with him, and you've clearly visited his workplace regularly enough, and there was taking him to the gym... You don't have to dress so stiffly. And you said it was an arcade, right? That's the absolute epitome of a fun, casual, silly date night." He flicks his finger against one pec, although at least he keeps it to a part that's clothed. "You won't look out of place. No one will look twice at you, besides the usual reasons. And listen, I'll go one further- film Claude's reaction."

"What?"

"I mean, you're worried about how he'll feel more than anything, right?" Sylvain continues. "If he reacts negatively in any way, that we both agree is bad, then I'll make it up to you completely. I'll apologize in person to him, and I'll shred the shirt." He spreads his fingers out. "That's how serious I am in that I really don't think it's going to go as badly as you think."

If there's anything that gets to Dimitri, it's having someone just being upfront and sincere. They've all dealt with a lot of shit in their lives; sometimes it's amazing how rare real honesty can be. So they all appreciate it, to no small degree, but Dimitri especially.

So he pauses at that, hand at his chest, before he slowly eases up. "...You don't have to destroy it. You bought it, Sylvain, I wouldn't waste your money like that." Slowly, he turns to the mirror and finally lowers his hand with some trepidation. "...I have a lot of questions about this, you know."

"Aim and shoot, Your Highness."

"I'm not sure if I want any of the answers."

Alright, that startles laughter out of him before he can do anything to stop it, and Sylvain quickly has to muffle himself. Restrooms echo. "Come on, now. That just makes me worried about what you're actually thinking and imagining. I'm not doing anything terrible with that shirt, you know!"

Dimitri's flat stare says he doesn't believe him before he says even a single word. "Why did you have this ready in your bag, Sylvain?"

Thumping his own chest a little bit, Sylvain grins. "What, a man can't have a virgin killing sweatshirt-"

"A what."

"-just in case of sexual or romantic emergencies?" He draws his hands behind his head again and chuckles. "I know this may surprise you, with your delicate sensibilities, but there are people, no matter the gender, who like seeing that kind of thing on a nice muscular chest, right? It doesn't hurt to have on hand, in case I need to impress anyone."

For a long moment, Dimitri just stares at him with his lips thin and his eye narrowed in disbelief. Eventually, he asks, "Is this something to do with Felix?"

...Huh. Sylvain blinks, momentarily caught off guard. "You picked up on that?" He asks, realizing that there's no point in trying to lie or sidestep his way out of this one. Still, he hadn't realized that Dimitri of all people really was keeping track of him like that.

"We're friends, of course I did," Dimitri answers, shaking his head. "Honestly, I meant to ask about how you two were doing, after Felix got annoyed at you and then texted you immediately after, but we got caught up talking about my own relationship..."

"You were actually worried about that, huh?" he says, mouth quirking in a smile even he's not entirely sure about. Or, rather, he's not sure if it's showing what he wants it to show. "Well, don't worry, he forgave me for fucking around in a heartbeat so we could talk more about our favorite cryptid therapists." Sylvain shakes his head. "And, anyway, well, maybe. But, look... A guy like Felix requires a lot of finesse. And sometimes that finesse comes in the form of a cute and slutty turtleneck that shows off the chest."

"Why can't you ask him out like a person is supposed to do?" Turning away from the mirror, Dimitri crosses his arms in exasperation. "I'm fairly certain the rules on dating haven't changed much in that regard, which I can confidently say now that I'm currently dating someone."

This sweet summer child. Sylvain wasn't prepared to talk about his own romance life, and how that's floundering, so he needs a second to give an answer here. Eventually, he decides nothing is better than putting his friend in the same situation he's in. "Try and imagine being in my shoes," he says. "How do you think Felix would honestly react to someone asking him out on a date?"

Dimitri's pause says all it really needs to. Still, bless his heart, he tries for an answer anyway. "If it was said sincerely, then.... Even Felix would be willing to try at least one date, wouldn't he...?"

"I mean, alternatively, he might think the person asking him on the date is just jerking him around," Sylvain counters with a relaxed shrug. "Hell, he might even be ace and have zero interest in romance. Can you ever remember him dating anyone in high school?"

"No, because everyone thought he was interested in you and so didn't bother."

Sylvain's brain stutters for a half second. "Huh," he says after another half second. "Really, now? In that case, getting him to admit any attraction on his part is still going to require a lot of finesse."

"Sylvain." Oh Goddess, it's the lecture tone. Dimitri removes his arms from his chest in order to perch his hands on his hips instead. "Putting on a sexual shirt can't rightly be called finesse. How about this- I will take your proposed deal, to film Claude's reaction to me wearing this. But." He raises one finger. "If he reacts negatively, I won't ask you to destroy the shirt. I won't even ask you to apologize to Claude. That is something that I will take proper responsibility for on my own, since I am the one agreeing to wear it. However, if he doesn't react well, then you should take that as a sign this is a foolish plan, and simply ask Felix outright. Deal?"

"I'd ask when you got so pushy, but you've always sort of been this way, huh?" Sylvain asks, using his words to hesitate at least a moment before he nods and holds out his hand. "Then, hey, deal. I know I'm not going to lose."

Dimitri shakes his hand, sturdy and tight like always, and then they tuck the stained shirt into the bag so that Sylvain can take care of it later. Fortunately, when they return to their table, nothing's been moved, and Sylvain quietly makes a note to give the servers an extra tip for paying attention even though there was no indication left behind that they'd be coming back. Dimitri really seems to be struggling, as they sit down, to not keep messing with his shirt. After a minute of working through some of his danish, Sylvain points out, "You know, no one really glanced at you when we made our way over to our table, right? I'm serious, it's not that big a deal."

"We passed by only a few," Dimitri protests, keeping his voice low, "and they were all wrapped up in their own conversations besides. Does that really count?"

Chuckling, Sylvain finishes off the small portion he'd sectioned off for himself and nudges the danish over to Dimitri. So worked up, Dimitri doesn't even think to protest and just starts nibbling on it. When he gets like this, Sylvain knows he likes to have something to occupy his mouth.

"Yeah, well, that's how most of life works. People are usually too caught up in themselves to really care about anyone else's business unless it's really gaudy. And a simple black keyhole turtleneck? Well, it might catch a few eyes, I won't lie, but you'll be gone out of their lives so quickly that I doubt you'll get anything but a double take."

"That's still far too much than I'm comfortable with...." Dimitri sighs, shoulders slumping, and takes another bite of his danish. "...but something I suppose I'm used to. So maybe... It won't be completely terrible..." He doesn't sound entirely convinced. That's alright. Sylvain is glad to just get those words out of him. The first step to bullshitting is to say something. Working on if you or anyone else believes it can come afterwards.

While Sylvain was honest in that he thinks not too many people at their tables are glancing at Dimitri's change in clothing, the employees of the restaurant are another matter entirely when the two of them get up to pay. Funnily enough, if Dimitri had let Sylvain pay for everything, they could be done in a heartbeat. Instead, with their bill split, they have to go one after the other while the cashier rings them up... and does their very best not to look too much at the exposed cleavage of Dimitri's chest. Dimitri, in turn, tries not to make eye contact with anyone and bites his lip so that he doesn't fall into the absent-minded and worried glower he so often has a bad habit towards.

Sylvain just does his best to keep from laughing at the whole thing.

"You know, I think they would have hit on you, if they could have gotten the courage up for it," Sylvain says as they exit the restaurant and begin to head down the street. "Trust me, I can tell when a person is appreciating someone else's body, and that's the kind of look you get aaaaall the time when we work out at the gym."

"Please stop teasing me, Sylvain," Dimitri sighs, still somehow oblivious to just how damn hot he is. "I don't know how I'm going to survive making it to the Golden Deer."

Sylvain claps him on the shoulder, grinning. "Well, I'm sure you'll find a way. At any rate, this is where we split, so I'll see you later, right? Be sure to tell me all about how this second date goes, sweater or no."

Before he can pull his hand back, Dimitri's fingers fold over his, and he blinks a couple of times into that one brilliant blue eye. "I really do want you and Felix to be happy, you know," Dimitri says, so quiet and sincere. "You've both been my closest friends for so long, to the point that I don't know where I would be if I lacked either of you. So I just... want the two of you to find happiness. I don't want things to get mixed up between you, or our friendships to fray. So... I really do wish you the best of luck with him, whoever wins this ridiculous little bet between us. Alright?"

Sometimes, Dimitri gets like this, and Sylvain's heart twists a little bit. It's twisting right now, all fondness and a wish he could keep away every fucked up thing that happens in the world and that all of them have way too much experience with. He has to remind himself that he's not like some medieval retainer for a lord, that him and Dimitri are their own people living their own adult lives... but jeez, the things he'd do for this guy.

Right now, all he can do is smile back and squeeze Dimitri's hand. "You're too nice, Dima. But just focus on your romantic life, alright? I know what I'm doing, right?" He winks playfully. "I mean, I was the guy who was supposed to give you advice for yours!"

That little fact makes Dimitri pause, blinking a few times. "Oh, yes. I suppose you were. You know, I don't believe we ever got to that part..."

"Well, here's my well sought after advice that you've been so ungratefully ignoring all this time." Reaching over, he curls his fingers around the back of Dimitri's head and tugs him in for a soft headbutt. All the while, he grins. "You're doing great, Dima. So just keep doing what you're doing, and I'll always be here if you need any more date ideas or aren't sure about something happening in the relationship. Alright?"

Just using nicknames is enough to make Dimitri melt, most of the time. Hearing this only makes him soften all the more, and he so gently bumps his head back against Sylvain's. "You're a fantastic friend, Sylvain."

"You can always say it a few dozen more times so that everyone else knows it," Sylvain teases, although he's half honest and hoping Dimitri doesn't realize. Pulling away, he playfully shoves Dimitri along. "Now get going. You were the one looking forward to your date so much!"

When Dimitri is gone, disappearing into the subway system to head back to his place, Sylvain takes a moment to just... be, walking with no particular hurry with his hands behind his head. Honestly, he's pretty sure that Dimitri's idea of things definitely isn't going to work on a guy like Felix... but, then again, Dimitri had seen right through them in a truly unexpected move, and he'd even apparently been aware enough of things to notice high school gossip. Dimitri "what do you mean a swiss army knife with a butterfly on it isn't an appropriate gift" Blaiddyd of all people. Sylvain's world is well and truly rocked.

Or maybe it was never that his attention towards other people had been particularly good, and only that he cared especially for matters where it concerned Sylvain, or Felix, or anyone else in their circle. But if he starts thinking like that, Sylvain knows he'll start getting all sorts of feelings that he thought. Stuff he thought he'd put to rest way back in high school. That's a bad idea for any number of reasons, first and foremost that he really should be focusing on his current and almost legitimate romance quandaries first and foremost.

Quietly, Sylvain lets out a whistle into the cool autumn air.

He's really got to stop getting crushes on his friends.





Despite knowing what he agreed to, Dimitri still takes a moment lingering outside of the Golden Deer and fiddles with his phone. He can't stay out there for longer than a minute, he knows, he knows. He simply... needs to work up his nerve. Despite what Sylvain had said, at least a few people had stared at Dimitri's attire while he'd ridden the subway back towards his part of town. This is a terrible idea. He knows it is. But he can't go back on a deal made. That would just be... Well, he's no liar.

Anxiously, he glances through the Golden Deer's windows. It's heading towards the end of Claude's shift, and just before the end of anyone else's for a general workday, so there's not too much of a rush yet. There's just one person tucked away cozily in a corner, along with a mother and her child sitting near the pick up counter talking. Dimitri doesn't recognize the person Claude is working with tonight, only that he's a bit shorter and his green hair stands out in contrast to the colors of the shop. Claude himself is chatting with the customers, getting some sort of drink from behind the counter. That's.... probably as good as empty he's going to be able to ask for, isn't it? Dimitri takes a breath and readies the camera on his phone.

Alright. This is fine. Or, if it isn't, it will not be the end of the world. Dimitri tries to remind himself of that, a lesson from lots of therapy that he's done his best to internalize.

Either way, the best thing is to act natural. Dimitri double checks to make sure he's not glaring, takes a breath, and finally steps into the Golden Deer. "I hope I'm not too early, Claude."

"Dimitri! Not at all, I'm just-" Claude looks up, smiling, and spots him.... and immediately drops the paper cup in his hand right onto his foot. An electrical shock seems to go right through him, now vacant hand curling into a tight fist while his eyes go wide. A sharp muffled noise slips out between suddenly clenched teeth. "Ffffssssssssssh-!!!"

"CLAUDE!" It's not only Dimitri calling out the name, but the coworker too, and they both hurry over to him. All Dimitri can do is go to the front counter, leaning over it to assess the damage. On the staff side of things, the coworker immediate grabs some paper towels. Kneeling down by Claude's leg, he starts dabbing at the mess on his pants leg.

Claude himself, well, he just lowers his hand down to smack the counter a couple times while he bows his head in a clear effort to ride out the pain. Eventually, he lowers himself into a crouch and recovers. "Hey, Ignatz, sorry about that-"

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ignatz fusses. "Do you need to go in the back?"

"Ha ha, well, it'll take a little more than some hot chocolate to keep me down!" Claude finally raises his head to look over to the mother, who's come over to fuss from the other side of the counter, and waves her off. "Sorry, sorry! I'll get you and Lucina there your hot chocolate in a second! This one just slipped."

Leaning as far as he can make it, Dimitri nods his agreement. "Listen to him, Claude. You never know just how bad spills like this can be. Do you need help?"

Claude finally looks up at him again, only to immediately close his eyes. "Oh boy," he says quietly to himself, just barely audible, before he laughs. "I guess I can't argue against two people teaming up on me. Well, if you're going to be so pushy, want to come into the back and help me out, Dimitri?"

"Oh, is that..." He glances over to Ignatz for confirmation. "Is that really all right? I'm not an employee."

"It's fine," Ignatz assures with a quick nod and a smile as he begins to hand over the paper towels to Claude. "This is to help with a spill, too, and you do know Claude... So I don't think it's a problem so long as it doesn't become a habit."

Well, if it's fine... Trying not to make eye contact with the mother and her child- he can only handle so much at a time- Dimitri goes around until he's able to slip through the small swinging door which separates the staff space from the public. "You're really all right, Claude?" he asks, coming around to him and offering one hand. He feels a bit like he's taking up too much space behind the counter.... But Ignatz seems rather used to the squeezed conditions, hardly looking up at all as he starts to clean the rest of the spill.

Claude grins at him, taking his hand and hauling himself up. Enough time has passed that he doesn't look particularly bothered by the spill on his leg. "Oh, it's fine. On the bright side, I was going to change out of these clothes anyway after work, so this just speeds things up, huh?"

"I'd rather it not have happened like that." Dimitri shakes his head, but then they're through the doors into the staff area. He's never been in the back rooms of a coffee shop... and there's really not much to it.

A whiteboard takes up a large chunk of wall space, detailing the shifts of various people with only a small handful being names that Dimitri knows, and there are various supply boxes stacked up along a shelving unit. A door labeled the manager's office is squeezed into one side, and there seems to be a cubby hole unit of some sort for the various workers to use. Even from a distance, Dimitri can see that one is labeled 'CLAUDE' in sweeping orange letters. What's really important is that there's a small plastic table set out of the way in what's apparently a break room, complete with a miniature fridge, and it's there that Dimitri takes Claude.

Everything is neatly arranged and kept clean here, labeled appropriately for what Dimitri can only assume is the benefit of new employees. He may not be a new hire, but he appreciates the care regardless. It makes it easy to ferret out a first aid kit, taken from a cabinet, although Claude chuckles a little bit when he sees him do it.

"It's just a little spill, you know. Honestly, nothing even hurts anymore. You'd be amazed at how fast chocolate cools."

"That's no reason to be careless," Dimitri chides, running some cool water over another paper towel that he's folded up. Just enough to get it a little damp, not sopping. "Now, roll up your pants leg, and we'll see how it really is."

Claude's right, in the end. It's not a severe burn, which Dimitri is relieved to find out. He's heard of some restaurants and cafes that demand their employees to keep hot drinks at absolutely scorching levels... but apparently either the Golden Deer has enough sense to avoid such risky behavior, or its employees don't see any reason to go along with such foolishness. It makes him feel better, although he still cleans up Claude's leg. Slowly gliding the wet paper towel along his calf, Dimitri glances up from his kneeling position. "How is this?"

So wrapped up in making sure Claude was alright, he hadn't noticed the bout of silence between them. He certainly notices now, with the way Claude jolts a little bit out of his own thoughts from where he'd been staring down at Dimitri. "Hm? Oh, it's fine. I feel better already, honestly."

"...I see. That's good, then." Crumpling up the paper towel along with the others, Dimitri deposits them all in the trash can. "Are you going to go back to work like that?"

When he looks back, Claude is swinging his leg from side to side so that he can see just how it feels. He's done his best to clean up his pants, but there's no denying the stain that's there. "Hmmm... Honestly, yeah. I mean, it won't be too bad, I'm at the very end of my day. All I have to do is make sure to take care of any last minute customers, and then clean up for Ignatz. That will take, what... maybe ten minutes?" Having apparently come to terms with his pants situation, Claude gets up and dusts them off with a grin. "Want to wait here while I finish up?"

"Can I?"

"I mean, you're already back here anyway." Claude chuckles. "And it will work out for us too. People are more likely to walk in at the last minute if they see other supposed customers waiting around. I guess the thought process is 'hey, if they're already busy, then one more can't hurt', no matter if that's true or not. I mean, there are always people who will walk in anyway.... even when we're obviously closed. But I can't do anything about that."

"If it will make things easier for you... I'll wait here. Thank you."

Claude winks at him. "Then I'll see you in roughly fifteen minutes."

Waiting in the staff area of a place he doesn't work at feels... odd. Dimitri can't even remember the last time he was in the staff area of any sort of restaurant, now that he thinks about it. Even when Ingrid briefly took up work at a barbeque place herself, he politely waited for her either outside or in the waiting area. The same with Ashe.

For this, he's not sure what to really do. He puts away the first aid kit, because that's polite, and finally remembers that he's left his camera phone running in his pocket this entire incident. The latter at least takes up a good chunk of time as he frantically makes it stop recording, and then does his best to look up if there's a way to edit a video of nothing but lots of dead air and fussing. (The answer is 'yes' and he couldn't be more relieved.)

But after that... After that, it's nothing but awkwardly sitting in a chair, flicking through the internet on his phone. He's in the middle of wondering if he should actually pick up one of those gacha games that Mercedes seems to like so much when Claude finally ducks back in to grab his bag out of his cubby hole. "Almost done!" he promises Dimitri. "Just give me half a second!" With that, he ducks into the staff restroom.

Ignatz trails after him shortly after, and gives that same reserved smile in Dimitri's direction. "We're almost done. I don't believe we properly got introduced, although Leonie and Claude have told me about you. My name is Ignatz Victor."

Oh thank goodness, some social protocol he can follow instead of just sitting awkwardly in a room. Rising to his feet, Dimitri offers his hand. "I'm Dimitri Blaiddyd. I'm surprised Leonie mentioned me, really." He's polite to her, and she to him, but he hadn't thought they really knew one another.

Ignatz returns the handshake well enough, still smiling up at him although now he seems a little embarrassed. Dimitri can't understand why, even with his next sentence. "Well, she mentioned how the two of you go to the same gym, apparently? That was mostly what she talked about, when she wasn't saying that you and Claude were going out together."

That's right, that is how they primarily know each other, isn't it? Along with him listening in on ridiculous stories from her and Claude's past, he supposes. Dimitri smiles a little. "Yes, I've seen her there occasionally, but it's usually nothing more than a simple 'hello'. Our schedules tend to be rather different."

"She mentioned that too." Searching for more paper towels for the front, Ignatz continues to carry a sense of... hesitation, Dimitri supposes. "Can I ask what you do for work?"

"Oh, no, it's fine. I work from home, helping manage my family's business by telecommuting."

"I see... I wouldn't have guessed that. It's good to have a job like that, isn't it?"

Dimitri doesn't ask why Ignatz is surprised, because he looks in the mirror every day and understands perfectly well that he doesn't look like the kind of person who works at his desk at home. Instead, he just nods his head and smiles.

"Flexibility is an envious thing to have. For a lot of other things I have to deal with, it's better that I have this kind of job, so I can count myself fortunate that my father had this kind of connection. I don't know what else I would do otherwise." It's not a job he particularly loves, but it's a job that pays the bills. Dimitri is glad to have that, because he knows that it would be difficult for him otherwise. "What did you think I did?"

"Oh, um..." It occurs to Dimitri belatedly, as Ignatz wavers at the upfront question, that he might have put the other man into an awkward position. If one were to look at a muscular man with an eyepatch and try to guess at his occupation, well.... He supposes it would only be logical, really, that one might think of something unpleasant. It's just rude to outright say that. Ignatz seems nice, he shouldn't have sprung that on him. Dimitri is about to hastily take back his words when Ignatz continues, scratching the back of his neck. "I was actually wondering because, well... I thought you might be a model of some sort, honestly."

"A model...?" Blinking, it takes a second to remember what he's wearing, and he stares down at his shirt in complete confusion. "Are they actually wearing these sort of things in magazines...?" Is that really something that happens? Then again, when's the last time he even looked through a magazine? Dimitri can almost literally feel his mind stuttering as it tries to imagine this.

Fortunately, he's saved as Ignatz hastily raises up his hands as if he can physically stop Dimitri's train of thought. "Oh, no, I didn't mean like a fashion model! Rather, I was thinking something more along the lines of an art model, you see."

...Alright, he definitely wasn't expecting the conversation to go in that direction. Dimitri stares a moment, trying to imagine that insteaed. "It's... not a path I had ever considered. What was it about me that brought that to mind...?"

He's pretty sure he's not being casual or interested enough, or not showing it anyway, because Ignatz still seems embarrassed as he rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I just thought... It's a job which focuses on how to draw many different kinds of people, you know. It's important to getting a vital understanding of putting the body to canvas, and realizing how it works or comes together. You have a really unique appearance- in a good way, I mean to say. And, well..."

"You're built like someone already carved you out of marble and begged a Greek god to bring you to life," Claude says as he exits the restroom, grinning and newly clothed.

Ignatz's flush is impressive in how quickly it spreads across his face, ear to ear. "Claude!"

The casual way Claude claps his hand onto Ignatz's shoulder says he regrets nothing, as per usual. "What? It's what you were thinking upon seeing that glorious chest, right?" His eyes dance as they focus back on Dimitri, who's suddenly blushing himself. "Not that I can blame him. I bet he hasn't told you that he does art in his spare time, huh, Dimitri?"

On one hand, Dimitri thinks he might die if they continue on with this line of conversation. Then again, it's him or Ignatz, and unfortunately it doesn't seem like they're both going to get out of this so long as Claude is involved. "No, he didn't, actually."

Ignatz is more red than pink now. "It's only a hobby right now, there wasn't an ulterior motive! I mean, it would be interesting to have someone similar but different to Raphael to practice, but that's not why I was asking, it was merely pure curiosity, and-"

"And most art models do so nude, don't they?" Claude asks slyly and, oh, Dimitri's blush is starting to match Ignatz's now. "Well, after seeing that chest, I can't blame you, Ignatz. Honestly, Dimitri, if you started doing modeling, I might actually have to find some free time in my schedule to take up drawing myself..."

"Claude." Even while completely red, Ignatz manages to hiss out the single name. "I think I hear Leonie arriving, so I should be fine now that she's here."

It's with that bit of rushing that they're out the door, and Claude starts to laugh. "He was in the band when we played last time, remember?" he asks, still grinning as the two of them walk down the street.

Now that Dimitri thinks about it, perhaps that particular shade of green is familiar. His attention had just been focused on the people he already knew. "I see... I suppose I'll be seeing a lot of him, then." Looking down at his shirt - the culprit for this entire conversation - Dimitri sighs. "Actually- can we make a quick stop back at my apartment, Claude?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sure. Forget something?"

"It's not so much that I've forgotten something, but..." Resisting the urge to tug on it, he gestures to the shirt instead. "I'd really rather change out of this. I just feel- silly walking around with it on, and getting comments about it."

A disappointed noise leaves Claude immediately as he looks up at him. "You're not wearing that for the rest of our date?" he asks, genuine disappointment lacing his tone. "It really is pretty daring for you... But I thought you picked it out just for this! It looks so good on you!"

That's- kind of a surprise to hear, and not a bad one. Unsure of how to handle it, Dimitri presses a hand to the shirt. "It's actually Sylvain's, if I'm being honest. I had lunch earlier with him today, and something spilled on what I was wearing. He offered to lend me one of his but... I couldn't have imagined it was something like this."

At least the tale earns a chuckle out of Claude, along with a bright smile. "You know, the more you tell me about Sylvain, combined with my one meeting that I've had, and the more I kind of want to get to know him."

"After getting to know you all the better, I think I might actually be worried if the two of you become familiar."

"Oh ho. Now that's a ringing endorsement if I ever heard one." Claude laughs a little more. "Well, I think it's amazing on you, and I doubt you would have accepted it at all if our date was going to be at a particularly fancy place, so, theoretically, this should be fine... But if you really can't be comfortable in it, then alright." A dramatic sigh leaves him. "I'll just have to store your attractive visage in my memories..."

Dimitri shakes his head, but all the dramatics has him smiling. "Claude, we're actively dating. You see me all the time, so there's no need to store anything anywhere. Still, if that's your reaction, I..." Dimitri cuts himself off. "No, nevermind."

Bumping up against his side, Claude wraps his arms around one of Dimitri's. "Oh, no no no. You can't start off like that and keep me hanging, Dimitri. What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing!" he says, flustered and trying to shrink back into his turtleneck. It doesn't work, predictably. "I just- I need to text Sylvain, actually, hold on."

"Keeping it a secret only makes me more curious, you know~."

"Hush!"





⇀ 『VIDEO ATTACHED』

⇀ Here is the result of our bet.

⇀ I believe we can say this round goes to you, considering that he said he liked it after we left the Golden Deer.

↬ AHAHAHAHAHA

↬ I'M LOSING IT

↬ SAYING HE LIKES IT IS A BIT OF AN UNDERSTATEMENT

⇀ Is this really cause for caps lock, Sylvain?

↬ YES

↬ but more srsly, see, i know what i'm talking about

↬ ;) have fun with your date, dima





Walking into Dimitri's apartment in the light of day had made it seem airy and roomy, comfortable with all the freedom it gave to people. Stepping into it in the thick of evening gives off an entirely different feeling even before Dimitri flicks on the living room lights. What had once been spacious in all the best ways now looks more cavernous than anything, and it's not an impression that easily goes away even wwith light. Maybe it's something about the artificiality of it, or maybe it's just the contrast of a bright living room with windows that open up into a too dark city where the only other lights are mere pinpricks.

At least there are a couple of things that have changed since his last visit. Tucked away near the selection of old time movies is a glittering but distinctly plastic jack o lantern with its plug coiled around it. The same pair of fuzzy gray wolf ears he remembers seeing in a picture have been tossed onto the back of the couch, where they've presumably been ever since Halloween. And, what's most amusing to Claude-

"I thought you didn't drink soda too much?" he asks, making his way to the little kitchen island. His fingers tap the opened box laying there. It's already mostly empty, with only maybe three cans remaining.

Dimitri is tugging his shirt free of his pants already, walking right towards that mystery hallway on the ground floor, and he glances over at Claude upon his question. "Oh, no, I don't. Sometimes I have energy drinks, but soda is something rather different. They're leftovers from Halloween, you see."

A low whistle flicks out from between Claude's teeth. "Whole cans of soda for trick or treaters! Their parents must have hated you." He flashes a grin over to Dimitri. "Okay, they wouldn't have, if they remember being a kid once. But that's a lot, isn't it?"

"Yes, well..." Shirt untucked, Dimitri sweeps some of his hair back. "I recall, when I was younger... One year, while we were trick or treating, there was a house where an older woman lived, and she gave out cans of soda. I thought that was truly the highlight of my night- me and all my friends. Halloween seems like one of the few times of year when children can let loose, have fun... so I wanted to give that same feeling back into the world." His hand pauses, curling at the back of his neck. "...And maybe I wanted to be the 'cool' apartment to trick or treat at. I have Mercedes to compete with down the hall, you know. I had to stand out."

Alright, that's- "Adorable," Claude coos, leaning against the island and grinning. "Although if it makes you feel better, I'm pretty sure you definitely stuck out in those kids' minds. No better reputation, right?"

Dimitri smiles back. "I think I can live as the friendly resident werewolf pirate with a stash of free soda for good children, yes." Something about that makes both of them laugh, the emptiness of the apartment beaten back with it. Cheeks rosy with soft pleasure, Dimitri nods his head towards the soda box. "You can have one of them if you like. I don't want to put them to waste, so I've only started working through them... but it would be better if someone who actually regularly enjoys them took a can. I don't plan on taking very long; I have plenty of shirts that I can change into. Honestly, I might just change the whole outfit, since I know some of the soda got into my pants as well."

Don't mind if he does. As he rolls out a can, Claude grins to him. "What, you're not going to invite me into your room?"

He's expecting more teasing right back, or flustered alarm when Dimitri realizes just why Claude would be so interested in coming into his bedroom. Instead, Dimitri jolts upright as though he's been shocked. "Oh, no no no no, I-" He realizes just how obviously frantic he is, and tries to rein in his tone. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember to do the same for his rapid retreat. "Please stay out here, Claude."

...His curiosity is absolutely killing him right now, and Claude wonders if Dimitri realizes just how very unfair this all is. How can he hold himself back when he wants to know the reasons behind that reaction so badly?

The answer is 'because he loves the hell out of Dimitri Blaiddyd'- or at least he's feeling happy enough with how their relationship is going so far that he won't just trample all over his boyfriend's right to privacy. So Claude pops the can open and wanders over to Dimitri's movie shelf to see what he recognizes. Besides things like MST3K, which specifically mock various movies, Dimitri seems to favor quite a wide variety of black and white films, most of them various dramas but more than a few comedies as well from what Claude can tell looking at the boxes.

With speed reading, that really only takes, like, a minute or two.... And in that minute or two, there's a sudden crash from deeper within the apartment, and a small shout. Claude is up on his feet in a second, and down the hall in two. "Dimitri!? Are you alright?"

There are three doors in the hallway, plus a small little corner where a washing machine and dryer are stored. A set of cupboard doors are on the opposite wall, but closest to the rest of the apartment. Claude takes only a short moment to figure out where the sound is coming from, opting for the one furthest in. "Hey, Dimitri? I'm coming in, alright?"

He doesn't even get a chance to touch the knob before there's the sound of frantic shuffling, things being kicked, and lots of stumbling around, and the door jerks open. "No I'm fine!" Dimitri says in a breathless rush, bent over, clinging to door and its frame alike so that he can stay upright with his pants around his legs. The keyhole sweater is still on. He seems to realize something, hastily jerking the door mostly shut. "I'm sorry, it was just- I tripped over myself, I didn't mean to concern you! I'm sorry, just- hold on, please, hold. On." And with that, he quickly shuts the door again.

Claude lets him. Just then, he had the perfect chance to get a good glance at Dimitri's room, and it completely slipped him by. Claude can't even say any exact details. All a part of his brain managed to note was a heap of blurry mess behind Dimitri in direct contrast to the minimal decorating of the apartment in general.

Later, he might berate himself. Right now, all he can think of is the fact that Dimitri was still wearing the keyhole turtleneck. All he can think of is that Dimitri's pants were around his knees and beneath his feet.

All Claude can think about is the fact that he now knows whether Dimitri is a boxer or briefs type of guy, and is so very desperately thankful for how tightly briefs hug.

Completely in a daze, he returns to the living room where he finally remembers that he has a drink to work through. He picks that up with one hand. With the other, he gets out his phone.





↣ hilda

↣ （ ; ; ）

↣ his dick is huge, hilda

↣ o(；△；)o

↣ i haven't touched it yet, i just got an accidental preview, and that fact is killing me inside

↣ i'm dying here, hilda!!!

↣ (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )





『ARCHERYOUGLAD has sent you a message!』

↣ ARCHERYOUGLAD: sir i owe you my life

↬ GOTGAUTIER: lol!

↬ GOTGAUTIER: i didn't think the last picture would get such a reaction unless you mean something else entirely

↣ ARCHERYOUGLAD: something else~

↣ ARCHERYOUGLAD: let's just say you lent out a shirt and i am reaping the benefits

↬ GOTGAUTIER: ....wait is this claude???

↣ ARCHERYOUGLAD: (≧∀≦ゞ

↬ GOTGAUTIER: lol holy shit

↬ GOTGAUTIER: well ur welcome (ﾉ･_-)☆

↣ ARCHERYOUGLAD: just a quick thanks as he changes lmaooooo

↬ GOTGAUTIER: omg i can't believe him

↬ GOTGAUTIER: well

↬ GOTGAUTIER: good luck to both of u

↬ GOTGAUTIER: (*⸰‿-)

↣ ARCHERYOUGLAD: (-‿◦)





Once they head out into the city, Dimitri almost starts to believe that the night might turn around. He'd almost been thankful, initially, that he had an excuse to go back to his apartment, because that meant he could pick up a jacket in light of the weather, but it turns out he might not need it at all. While the air is still chilly, it's not the chilliest it could get. In fact, it even seems a little warmer than the last couple of nights have been. Just a sweater is enough for him. Granted, it's not enough for Claude, and that would be why Claude has his jacket zipper all the way up and his hoodie bunched up around his ears. Dimitri reassures him that they'll be warm soon enough.

Even the subway doesn't seem as packed as it could be. They don't run into any peculiar instances of people being outrageous, no fights break out, nothing. Dimitri couldn't ask for more on that front, he really couldn't.

Besides, you know. The arcade being open.

Which it isn't.

The paper hastily taped to the front entrance explains the situation plainly enough: the power blew out for the building and the estimated time to get the problem solved is unknown. Even though it's perfectly understandable that this is all just bad luck, it doesn't make Dimitri feel any better as he straightens up from reading it. "I'm sorry, Claude," he tells his date, shifting closer so that he can wrap his arm around the other man. "I should have checked on their web page or twitter or... something before we came all this way. They were doing perfectly well just the other day... I suppose this must have just happened."

Even with only this level of cold, Claude still burrows up against his side. "Mm, stuff like this happens," he says, voice muffled from a combination of his hood and where he's pressed up. "It's not your fault. As long as you just never, ever leave my side and expose me to the cruel elements, I'll survive." He tilts his head just enough to glance up at Dimitri, green eyes all the brighter from how a nearby streetlight catches them. "In this part of town, there's probably somewhere to go, right? Let's wander, see where that takes us. Ideally, to the first place indoors with a working heater."

There are in fact a couple of different places that they pass which seem to be perfectly heated. A couple of them are "artisanal" bars, which they duck into for warmth and to be amused at the strange drink names people come up with. Dimitri doesn't drink alcohol, however, so they never stay for long.

Others are cafes, restaurants, bustling with life on a nice night that others are clearly taking advantage of. There's an art gallery, having an event that seems to be invite only and which neither of them are even remotely dressed for. Various thrift stores, book shops, and even a couple of clubs are all open, but they all feel like rather strange places to take a date. 

Dimitri is in the middle of finally just googling things on his phone to see what's nearby when Claude nudges him in the side. "Looks like a lot of things are happening down the street. Want me to guide you while you google? Maybe we'll finally find something worth occupying our night."

Once they're close enough, Dimitri realizes just where they are. "Oh, it's the museums." Dimitri isn't entirely sure of just what events in history lead to it happening, only that a few different museums in the city ended up so close together that they sort of ended up neighbors. A history museum of some sort, an art museum, and a nature museum- at least those are what he knows about. It's the kind of strange little fact about his city that plenty of people know about. He rather likes that it's happened, even if he supposes he doesn't visit them as much as perhaps he ought to. "I thought they closed earlier than this..."

Further inspection shows that the buildings themselves are indeed completely dark, with the doors presumably locked. That hasn't stopped all the nearby parking spaces from being filled up completely, and Dimitri realizes that's because all the activity is coming from the small shared park (or is it an open garden? he never bothered to learn) that connects the various museums. A warm glow radiates out from the park, along with the sound of festive music and distant laughter.

A nearby sign is what tells him exactly what's going on, and Dimitri makes a small noise of understanding. "Oh, of course- it's the Day of the Dead. It looks like the museums teamed up together to help host an event for the community." He pauses, then, before he allows the impulse to carry him through. "Would you like to go?"

Claude had already been glancing over with some vague curiosity, but it was the idle curiosity of someone passing by. The way he looks up at Dimitri is curious, too, but livelier somehow. "Oh? So you have an interest in this sort of holiday? Or is it just that this is the first thing that we've passed by which looks like it could be fun?"

A smile slips onto his face. "You could say... it's a little bit of both."

Laughing, Claude tightens his grip around Dimitri's arm and begins to tug him along to the crosswalk. "Well then, you can tell me more about this interest of yours while we head on over."

There's no entrance fee to the event, which Dimitri supposes is because it would be hard to really stop anyone from sneaking in with how open the park area is. Rather, at the path leading into the park from the public sidewalk, there's a small booth with a variety of things such as brochures, a small map, and a jar for donations.

It's already rather filled up by the time Claude and Dimitri make their way over, and both of them are sure to add in their own donations before they go further in. Dimitri makes sure to grab a brochure before they do; it will be something nice to show to the doctor at his next session.

Everything... is just as bright and lively as Dimitri knew it would be. Various lights are strung up along the path leading into the main areas where various stalls and exhibits are set up, all vibrant and warm. From the beginning of the path, he can already tell without looking at the brochure that the areas are roughly divided into places for exhibits, food, small store stalls, some entertainment, and things he hasn't even thought of.

He's about to look into his brochure when Claude begins steering them along with a dreamy sigh. "Ooooh, I can practically smell the warmth coming from over there."

Dimitri can't help but laugh. "Well, that is where all the food stalls are... Of course you would go there."

"Listen, I know what I like." Claude's grin is absolutely shameless. "And it'll be good for us to have something to snack on while we take a look at everything, right? It can be a nice build up to when we actually get dinner."

He supposes that's a fair argument to make. Dimitri goes along with it, glancing over the large variety of food that is available to them all. Some things are a reoccurring staple, and yet that is less of a problem than one might think. There are still plenty of stalls selling only one of a certain sort of thing, such as a stall that seems to have the market cornered on hot chocolate, and another one where the scent of tamales wafts out. When they inevitably get hungry, he supposes he does have to admit that they won't be lacking choice.

It's as they're browsing the stalls, making their choices, that Dimitri realizes something, and he groans into his hand. "Oh, thank goodness," he mutters, and Claude raises an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"I was just thinking I'm so glad you didn't wear lace and I didn't wear that ridiculous sweater tonight." Claude's resulting laughter takes up another few minutes in their browsing, and even Dimitri has to grin.

In the end, all he gets is some pan de muerto and hot chocolate, while Claude branches out with candied pumpkin and atole. That's enough for Claude to detach from Dimitri's side, which is honestly appreciated. As they drift throughout the different art displays from local artists and look over the different shrines various families have made for this event, Dimitri needs both of his hands to finish off his food without one over Claude's shoulder.

There's more than only food and static exhibits, however. Their wandering eventually takes them to a sort of 'activity center', with various tables all sectioned off for a certain arts or crafts. There's someone from one of the museums watching over a table with supplies and decorations for what look like skull shaped sugar cookies- not exactly the letter of the tradition but in the spirit of it, Dimitri supposes. They're easier to eat than the actual sugar skulls that have been left out for the same reason.

Dimitri and Claude find themselves there somehow, once they've cleared through their snacks and most of their drinks. At least one of them feels a bit daring, because it's Claude who takes a large sugar skull to tackle with frosting. Dimitri... Well, he can't say he's ever viewed himself as particularly artistic. At least he's not very good at it. He does the best with what he has and that means, for tonight, clumsily trying to guide white frosting along a sugar cookie.

"I thought sugar skulls were supposed to be colorful?" Claude asks with a laugh, watching him hard at work.

"They are, but they're white underneath, Claude."

"I mean, I'm pretty sure the base sugar cookie is about as white as you are, which is pretty white, so I don't see why you're worrying about that."

"Claude!" His date only laughs at him a little more when Dimitri puffs out his cheeks. That's around the time he looks down at the actual sugar skull Claude is working on. It's.... Well. He will say that it is very unique. "I understand the point is that they're meant to be colorful, vibrant, full of life and meant to remind both living and the deceased of happier times... but is it mean to have that much color? Of... that kind of shade?"

Dimitri doesn't remember seeing that particular blinding neon purple at the ingredients table. Yet that's certainly what Claude is adding to his sugar skull with pain-staking care. "My ancestors would be flattered and amazed at my ability to improvise," Claude drawls. There is so much color on over half the skull already. Dimitri isn't entirely certain any white is going to be visible in the end. "Anyway, so you sounded pretty familiar with this sort of event, or at least the holiday."

If he's certain of his creative decisions... It takes Dimitri a second to realize what Claude has said afterwards, when he's already gone back to carefully decorating his cookie. "Oh? Did I?"

"Yeah. The way you said it was as if you'd just lost track of the time, of course there'd be this kind of event." From the corner of his eye, Dimitri watches Claude switch out the purple he's somehow mixed for some yellows. "Am I wrong?"

"No, you're not.... Well, on the most basic level, it's simply because I once had to do a lot of research into the various ways other cultures handled death, the afterlife, that sort of thing." Dimitri puts his little plastic knife down, looking over the white frosting he has down. It's... roughly in the form of a skull. He thinks. A cartoon-ish skull, but it is a skull nonetheless. "It's rather morbid once I start getting into the details."

A quiet little laugh escapes from Claude. "I mean, we are at a Day of the Dead event. I think a certain amount of morbidity is expected when it comes to a holiday like this."

"That's-" Okay, he has a fair point there, Dimitri supposes, but still. "I feel as though there's some sort of rule somewhere that I can only drop so many- bombshells on you in a certain amount of time. There should be a, a.... five date breathing period, or some such thing. I already dropped one on you for our very first date." He considers a darker bit of purple frosting he has available.

Claude starts applying some sunflower bold yellow. "I mean, I don't think there's really any hard and fast rules to dating. No more than there are basic rules to dealing with another human person? You treat them with respect, you have some basic manners, and you communicate so that you're on whatever page you need to be with the other person."

His sugar skull is starting to look like Lisa Frank is somewhere on its family tree, and in a rather immediate vicinity. Claude seems perfectly happy about this. "I mean, yeah, lots of people wouldn't start talking about how different cultures handle death, and what morbid event lead you to getting interested in that... That would probably make some people feel awkward." Pausing in his sugar skull decorating, Claude leans back to get a good look at how it's coming together.

"But I'm not some people. I agreed to come to a Day of the Dead event, and I'm the one who's asking you for more. You've given me plenty of a heads up, Dimitri." Claude smiles to him. "So trust me when I say I'm interested to learn more about you."

"You know, that's... possibly one of the more sensible things I've heard about dating."

Another laugh rolls out of Claude; Dimitri admires it. He seems to laugh so easily, sometimes. "Well, despite what some might say, I am a surprisingly sensible person." Something about the way he winks at Dimitri makes that statement seem simultaneously dubious and true. "But how about this- you tell your heavy story, and I'll match it with something serious of my own. I promise not to make it about politics."

He says it like a joke, but Dimitri wonders just how much of one it is. This is the man who takes part in a protest marching band, after all. Even more than that, he finds himself curious just what Claude has to say on things like that. Still... He nods, finally going with a brilliant blue frosting for his cookie.

"Alright, well, if you insist... When I was younger, I lost my parents in an accident. It was a long time ago," he adds hastily. Claude doesn't seem like the type to give platitudes; Dimitri is just so used to that reaction that he gives the fact immediately. "But, well.... It's a difficult thing to get over. I was signed up for therapy, of course, and people around me did their best to counsel me. It just..." Carefully, he starts to put the blue frosting down to make the 'eyes' of the skull. "I suppose all the advice and reassurances I was given by the adults around me... They did the opposite of helping."

From where he's applying more blinding colors to his sugar skull, Claude hums thoughtfully. "Yeah... I can see how that happens. It's never easy to talk about death, especially to a kid. It's kind of like being a walking contradiction. They think you're so delicately put together that anything will undo you, while also thinking you're so simple that it almost seems like a waste to put in too much effort. Or did I miss the mark there?"

"No.... You're right." So much so that Dimitri feels Claude is talking from experience instead of making educated guesses. He won't pry, however. If Claude wants to make that his 'serious topic' for later, then he will, and Dimitri will let him have the freedom to talk about it when he wants. For now, he just continues on. "I mean, they sent me to therapy, so they must have known the effect it would have on me... but at the same time, what I kept hearing from other people was so much of the same thing: that my parents were in a better place now."

"Oh, for the love of Lorenz's hair," Claude mutters, which is so out of left field that Dimitri bursts out laughing for a good minute. It utterly ruins his cookie decorating attempt too, a fact he has to deal with once he's wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I ruined my cookie because of you," he murmurs, although that doesn't get rid of the smile on his face even while he tries to salvage it by nudging the blue back into place. He's going to have to get more white frosting. "Although you're not wrong, unique exclamations aside."

The smile fades a bit as he continues to work, although it doesn't entirely disappear. He's able to talk about this, now, and Claude has put him into a good mood besides. "So on one side, I had adults telling me things that didn't make me feel better. On the other side, I had a therapist that... wasn't really doing me any good, trying to make me move on as fast as possible. That was the impression I got often, honestly: that people wanted me to move on, be less of a burden on top of many others that had been left behind with my parents' passing." He's pretty sure this is as good as he's going to manage with the misshapen eye, so Dimitri valiantly moves onto covering up the other mess ups. "He was something of a terrible therapist, really.

"Well, I wanted to be good, so I tried to do just that... but it only contributed to me feeling worse and worse, until there was a breaking point." He won't tell Claude the details of that. There's morbid, and then there's.... that. "It took me meeting the Doctor and the Professor to learn how to just.... deal with it all. After hearing about the death of my parents, they told me that I hadn't had enough time to grieve, or even come to terms with their deaths. So I was given homework: to look into how different cultures dealt with death, and the afterlife, instead of my Church's common ideology of everyone good just going to 'a better place'." 

Claude is slowly turning around his sugar skull, double checking to make sure not a speck of white remains. Dimitri isn't sure that's how one decorates a sugar skull, but he's not going to get in the way of his date's artistic vision. "What a homework assignment," he muses. "Saying to a depressed and overall mentally ill guy to check out our own mortality. Not that I'm questioning our Teach's methods or anything."

He snorts a little bit. "It wasn't as though I was told to do it first session.... We had a long conversation about it, and what I thought of the idea once it occurred to them. It really was good for me. When people said my parents were in a better place, I always inevitably ended up thinking that meant being with me wasn't good enough. And then of course I would consider myself being selfish, because a good son would want their parents to be happy."

"You were a kid. Of course you'd want your parents there."

Something about the barely restrained indignant tone to Claude's voice makes him smile. "I know." And something in that indigence makes him feel reassured that Claude really does agree, nothing faked. "So, that's why the Doctor thought it would be good for me. If the commonly accepted idea of death and the afterlife that I'd been fed all this time wasn't doing me any good... Then perhaps there was something else in the world that would. Something that I could think of instead of solely dominated by what I'd been taught in my childhood."

Carefully, he begins decorating around the blue of his design with bright yellow as well. They compliment each other, the two colors. "It opened up my world a lot, too. I was amazed at how many different views there were throughout the world, and the different ways people thought of the afterlife. But when I stumbled across this holiday... It captured my attention the most. Ashe- well, I won't say too much about it, but he's experienced loss as well. So the two of us decided to go to an event not too unlike this one."

He can still remember that night, too. It had been so easy to get swept up in the festivities and feeling of it all, enjoying new and old foods alike, taking in the shrines people had made for loved ones. He can remember how, eventually, they'd both broken down crying at the end... comforted by the idea of their family still there with them, even if unseen, and able to grieve when neither of them had ever truly had the time to do it.

A smile twitches along Dimitri's face. Poor Dedue. He'd been so flustered and worried at the sight they'd made. "Since then, I've always had a fondness for these days. I wish I could have known more about this holiday when I was little."

"I can see why, honestly." Apparently, his completely covered sugar skull monstrosity has lived up to Claude's expectations, because he leaves it alone for the time being so that he can lean against Dimitri's arm. Claude doesn't interfere at all, he just relaxes there and watches. "At least, I can see why it's a holiday that I'd prefer over something darker. It's a celebration of life, both that lived and that still living, and welcoming the dead to see it one more time. To see us, one more time. We share the stories of them... and they get to see what stories have developed inside us."

It's hard to get a good look at Claude's face with his position being what it is, but Dimitri can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "I better leave some good ones behind for everyone to tell."

"From what I've seen of you, I don't think there will be any shortage of them, frankly."

This time, it's Claude who bursts out laughing, and it makes Dimitri smile as well while he puts the finishing touches on his cookie. It's a more plain design compared to whatever is going on with Claude's... but he likes it regardless.

"Honestly, it's the base idea that appeals to me: that my parents aren't in some unreachable place, but visiting me, seeing how I'm doing. It feels less as though they're gone forever and more like..." Dimitri pauses, searching for both the words and his phone. "...It's more as though they simply left the house, but there's a note or snack that shows they exist, still. Er, well, although in real life, there's not actually anything, so I suppose the metaphor falls flat..." Finally, he finds where his phone had been tucked away, and pulls it out.

"I mean, they did leave something behind, didn't they?" Claude tilts his head back so that his relaxed smile is visible. "There's you."

That... makes Dimitri pause, the words sinking in. "I.... Well. I suppose you're right. There is me." He smiles back to Claude. "You can be surprisingly creative, you know."

Claude rears back in mock offense, a hand to his chest in a way that dizzily reminds Dimitri of Lorenz despite the fact that he's met the man once and only once. "Surprisingly? Excuse me, but are you saying I seem boring?"

"Oh, of course not. I don't believe anyone could say something like that to you. It's simply..." And he raises an eyebrow down at Claude's sugar skull.

"Sir!" Claude's laughter ruins the indignant air he's going for. "Do you have a problem with my sugar skull?"

"Oh, I may not, but I cannot vouch for the spirits of the deceased who that's supposed to be for."

Another laugh, a nudge, and Dimitri takes a picture to keep a memory of both sweets along with writing down what he's eaten tonight. Might as well when he already has it out, right? As he's taking that down, Claude picks up his sugar skull to inspect it again. "Are we supposed to actually eat these?" Claude asks, taking care not to smother icing all over his hands. "You've done your research, so I'm just assuming you would know."

"Not traditionally," Dimitri answers, pleased that he does know the answer for this. "But these kinds, I believe they're the type you're allowed to eat. Otherwise they're decoration. You know. For the deceased." With his phone done with, he goes to put it away, only to find Claude's Lisa Frank sugar skull pressed up to his mouth in offering. "You went to all that trouble to decorate it, and now you don't want it?"

"Since it sounds as if you're implying I have any regrets about my lovely creation, no, I don't," Claude drawls. "Can't I do something cute and share with my date? And in turn, I get to steal a bite of your cookie. That's fair, I should think. Fair and cute."

"Ah. So it's a trade that you're aiming for." Still, Dimitri goes along with it, taking in a small bite of the skull. Since this one was clearly made in mind to be eaten, considering the lack of feathers or sparkles, it tastes... fine enough, he supposes. It's just also a lot of sugar and and frosting. A... considerable amount, even in only one bite. Dimitri isn't entirely sure he's had this much concentrated sugar in his mouth in.... Ten years? For a moment all he can do is just stare blankly into space. The texture alone is... How can he even describe the texture? There's actual effort involved in getting his body to swallow it down. "Oh."

For all that Dimitri's done his very best to give a muted reaction, Claude laughs again. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad." He takes a bite himself... A much smaller bite, Dimitri notes, which he suspects means Claude knew well ahead of time just what he was shoving into Dimitri's mouth.

On the bright side... Claude pauses, squeezing his eyes sight for a brief moment before he tucks all that sugar into his cheek. "Alright, nevermind, I will gracefully take back what I said. I knew it was going to be a lot, but I really did underestimate how much sugar they put into frosting these days." He looks around at the others sitting at tables, decorating skulls and cookies. "A lot of kids at this, huh?"

"Hm? Oh, yes."

The sugar skull is waggled from inbetween Claude's fingers. "Their parents must be absolute masochists."

That draws out another laugh from Dimitri's lips, even as he breaks off a bit of his sugar cookie to pass over to Claude. It's far less of a sugar overdose, thanks to far less icing being on it with his reserved design, and thus easier on the tongue.

"You don't have to tell me anything, you know," Dimitri says as they leave the decorating station, with all its warm light and sugar. Claude raises an eyebrow at him, and Dimitri continues. "I mean, when you said to make an exchange of morbid or serious topics. I don't want to push you."

"I was the one who suggested it, Dimitri," Claude reminds him, amused. "I don't suggest things I have no interest in doing. I know we've only been dating for a little while, but believe me. Besides... It's actually kind of freeing talking about this stuff. So it all works out."

A small side path goes through various altar decorations, all done by resident artists. They're a bit more elaborate, this lot, with an altar featuring quite a few different variations of La Catrina at the forefront. Dimitri nudges Claude towards it. "It's freeing?" he asks, curious to both the altar designs and Claude's own point of view.

Claude pauses to admire an altar that's almost drowning in marigolds, all of it threaded together in a subtly intricate pattern. "Yeah. Normally, for a lot of my dates, we stick to safe topics, right? What movies we like, how we got into our jobs, various little things like that. And those are all important on some level, don't get me wrong... You and me have talked about those kinds of things ourselves."

He shrugs, relaxed as they move along the path. "But there's always that tip-toeing a person has to do at the very beginning of the relationship where they have to figure out if their date is a prick, or dramatic issues that could rear up on date 2, or if they'd say shitty things about the really important stuff."

"For example?"

"Hmmm... For example, politics." Claude pauses to smile back at him, a funny little quirk of his mouth. "For example, how you were the only person I told about my band after the first date."

Dimitri is fairly certain that his surprise shows on his face, and he blinks at Claude. "Really? Only me? Why?"

"Oh, there are lots of reasons." Crouching down to read some poetry that makes up one altar, Claude's smile becomes a little more wry. "The part about it being a fun marching band, you can get some good reactions with that, so that's fine. But then more than a few people will hear that it's all for protests- or, rather, one particular protest that they don't agree with but that are important regardless, important enough for me to go perform at- and they'll suddenly get... Hm, how do I put this..."

Claude makes a show of thinking, tilting his head from side to side and tapping his chin. "Pushy is the very nice term I could use. Assholish is what I find to be a bit more fitting, nine times out of ten."

It's certainly a descriptor, and Dimitri makes a face. "Even while you were on dates? I mean, not that I suppose I can say anything about inappropriate subjects to bring up during a date, but..."

"But you were telling me delicate health information that you felt would affect future dates between us," Claude interrupts mildly, smiling at whatever playful story the poem contains. Pushing himself up to his feet again, he hums. "Well, I guess all those past dates were also telling me important and delicate health information that could have done very much the same. I mean, it's a truly terrible affliction, having one's head stuck so far up their own anus. My heart goes out to those poor souls in desperate need of the jaws of life from their own tightly puckered assholes."

Oh no- Dimitri claps his hand over his mouth as he quickly turns his head away, desperate to hide his smile and muffle his startled laugh. "Claude!"

So many people no doubt wish they could look half as smug as Claude does in this moment, leaning against Dimitri's arm. "You can admit that I'm as stunningly hilarious as I am absolutely handsome," he drawls. "I understand completely."

"Now, I rather don't recall saying anything of the sort." Dimitri's smile can just barely be seen over his hand. "Please don't put words in my mouth."

"Are you disagreeing that I'm handsome?"

"Well... I suppose it would be rather untrue if I even tried to argue that, with what I've said to you." His teeth catch on his lip, as if that can stop his smile at all.

Satisfied, Claude just curls up further against him, and it's the two of them together in the cool autumn night going down the path now. "Ha. And don't I know it. But, yeah, that's how some of those kinds of dates would go." He shrugs, shoulder nudging up against Dimitri's side. "At worst, well... Some people know their opinions are under fire as times change, so they explode at even a hint of opposition. I got a lot of insults tossed at me, if I ever let slip the 'wrong' thing I supported. You certainly find out just how much someone actually respects you with what insults they use when they find out what you support...

"It was better to deal with the ones trying to pretend civility. At least then you only had to deal with passive aggression, or awkwardness. Then they'd just never sign up for the next date." Tilting his head back, Claude sighs up at the night air. "So I decided I'd quit doing that for a while until I could ferret out how they felt about certain things first. Eventually, I stopped dating at all for a while. Makes me wonder why I even brought it up in the first place back then."

"Hm? You don't know?"

Claude raises an eyebrow at him, amused. "When you say it that way, it almost makes it sound as if you know and I don't."

"I thought it was obvious," Dimitri admits. "I mean, I admit that I'm only so familiar with you right now... Perhaps I'm wrong, in which case, do correct me. But for something that's so important to you, that you've put so much effort into... Anyone would want to share that part of themselves with another person, and find support in it.

"Of course, you have all your friends with you. I would never underestimate that bond, especially Hilda and Lorenz. But... I don't think it's unreasonable to want to have someone you're in love with be similar, because that's a bond that... It's different from friendship. It brings its own things to the table in terms of support." Pausing, he can't help feeling as though he's rambled. "I apologize for all of that."

At the start, Claude was grinning at him. Now, however, he's smiling at him, soft and warm. "No, you're right. It gets tiring, doing everything and then not even finding someone who can love every bit of you. Well, then it becomes a sort of self fulfilling prophecy, I suppose."

A self fulfilling prophecy.... He thinks he understands. "I can only relate to that in terms of myself," Dimitri muses as they finally step back onto the main path, away from the many altars with their complicated and beautiful art pieces. "But I suppose... You become so scared about what might happen that eventually you start hiding every bit of yourself, even that which might not need to be hidden at all. I did that for a while myself, I must admit..." Dimitri shakes his head. It was during his down years.

"But once I got my feet underneath me, and spoke to my therapists, I realized that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted the relationship I thought my parents had: open and honest. So that's what I told myself I wanted to strive for... especially with my condition as it is." A huff of air filters out from between his teeth. "Even if that does make things rather difficult."

"Please, you're not difficult to love at all." There's a beat of silence between Claude's words, as though he's rethinking something.

Dimitri doesn't really have much in him to think deeply on why he is. "I'm glad you think so," he says quietly, resisting the urge to curl his hand up over his chest.

It's a good thing he doesn't have much to think on Claude's pause; Claude forges ahead with the conversation. "Anyway, I liked that about you when we went on our first date," Claude continues, resting his head against Dimitri's shoulder as the two of them keep walking; something in his heart warms so utterly that it feels as though it will melt between the gaps of his ribs. "I could tell that you'd been spurned before because of your schizophrenia, but you still took that leap. There's no way it was easy to do, but you did it. I realized that's what I was wanting for myself, too: that rosy relationship where I could just be happy without worrying about when I'd set off a bomb.

"It's why I decided to invite you over to my apartment. You know, not only get to meet Lorenz and Hilda, but learn about what I was so passionate about. If you were going to be honest, I should at least try to be a little bit myself, right?" He laughs a bit, tugging Dimitri in the direction of a set of boards which seem to be going indepth on the history of the holiday. "And it's why I'm trying to think of just what exactly I can give as an equivalent exchange after what you talked about."

"I thought that's what you were doing." Dimitri tries to be subtle in the way he shifts his arm, winding it around Claude's back. He's pretty sure he fails at the subtle part. Claude doesn't say anything on it. Instead, he keeps his head tucked right where it is. In this position, Dimitri can't see his face, can't see the expression he's making, but it feels, somehow, like his date is smiling. Maybe that's cheap of him. Claude often smiles, after all. "Your band work is so important to you. I saw how much all of you do for it. Being included in that, being allowed to see it... I felt honored."

"You know, while I do like to see just how much I can get away with, I will put on some honesty and say that feels a little bit like cheating on my end."

Claude really is good- to him, yes, but also in general. Dimitri wonders how much he can fall for one person before he hits solid ground, because it feels like he'll never reach the bottom. "Well, for me... It's not so much about the morbid nature that equalizes things. Everyone has their own struggles that are important to them. It doesn't mean anyone else's is lesser. Just... different." Or so the Byleths have told him, and he's inclined to follow their advice. "So I'm not judging based on that. Rather... I got to learn more about you in general.  How you think and- the things that are important to you. So that's important to me."

"And that's exactly what I'm talking about," Claude murmurs into his arm, soft and sweet in some way that Dimitri can't really describe. Yet before he can inquire as to what exactly he means, Claude is pointing at one of the boards and drawing him into a conversation about how different things would be for an entire month of this holiday instead of only two days. Before he knows it, Dimitri has forgotten what he'd meant to ask.

The museums and vendors all have clearly put in a great deal of work into the event. There's no end of altars to look at, stories and old news reports all pulled together to tell history, and Dimitri adores the entire thing. "This event is just as nice as I always remember it being," Dimitri says when he and Claude have finally decided it's time to get dinner.  It's all still hot on their knees when they settle down on the grass that stretches out in front of a simple stage, where a band plays. "Every event like this I've gone to- public ones that anyone is welcome to take part in- it's always felt so warm."

"I'd joke that's the tamale on your lap," Claude teases, his own food set carefully to the side, "but no. I get what you mean. It really carries through the spirit of the holiday, huh? At least as much as I know about it." He hums idly, cutting through his food. "There's that common thread entwining everything together, from the warmth of the lights to the colors brightening this place up. No wonder the departed can find their way to places like this."

"Just follow the sound of music and the smell of food in open air." Dimitri chuckles a little, smiling towards the stage. "Or... just follow home and family. I suppose for a lot of people, those two are bound together."

Claude laughs around the straw of his drink. "Boy, are my ancestors going to have a tough time finding me then. Home is where the heart is, and mine has certainly gone to quite a few different places at this point."

Leaning over, Dimitri nudges his shoulder against Claude's. "Now, you'll have to tell me what you mean by that. Perhaps at our next date?"

He gets a wink for his trouble. "Hmmm.... I'm in such a good mood, I might even tell you it for free."

Claude was right, when he said there was a common thread binding everything together. Certainly, it's in the lights strung up all throughout the park, leaving it in a warm glow that heaven must certainly see. Even where they are at the stage, Dimitri can smell the overabundance of spices and cooking food that makes him feel as though he's at someone's home.

In the distance, he can hear children laughing- probably all decorating their sugar skulls at that little set up and making brilliantly colored treats that would bring a smile to anyone's face. The music is loud and upbeat, celebrating the noise of life, welcoming back all stray spirits. Yet there's one more thing that adds to the overall warmth of the festivities, something that's not exactly tradition.

It's just... Claude. Sitting there besides him, telling him about all the different places he's moved to since he was a kid, the different houses and apartments whose secrets he ferreted out within a month of living in them, funny stories specific to one place or another. Individually, they're all little things, but they're little things like how grains of sand in a beach are technically little. What they come together to form, their whole part... That's what's important. For sand, it's a beach. For the stories.... It's Claude.

He's probably jumping the gun here, Dimitri suspects, but, even knowing that, he can only think that he'd be happy listening to Claude tell stories forever.

The night drags on with food and conversation, both of them enjoying the various different bands which take to the stage, but it's a night that can't last forever. Soon enough, there's someone up on the stage announcing this is the last song, that soon the stalls will close up and that the event tables like the sugar skulls already have. Dimitri blinks up as if waking from a daze. He'd known they'd been there together for a long while, yet it's somehow a struggle to come to terms that it's been long enough for things to end.

Regardless of how he personally feels, that is still the last song beginning, and he feels some impulse seize him. Both of their plates have long been put to the side, completely cleared. He's free to rise up onto his feet, offering his hand down to Claude. "I understand this is rather- silly, and sudden, but- would you like to dance?" The band on stage is certainly encouraging it as they call out to audience members, many of who are already up on their feet with friends and family and loved ones. Yet even if it's being encouraged by everything around him, he can't help feeling a little awkward.

Something about Claude's delighted laughter and the warm weight of his hand in Dimitri's makes the feeling vanish in the beat of his heart. "Do you know how to dance?" he asks playfully, allowing himself to be hauled up to his feet. Maybe it's just a trick of the light, but his cheeks seem a little darker, and his smile just a little more eager when Dimitri does it so easily.

Well, whether it's a trick of the light or his mind or what, Dimitri still has it in him to protest. "I do!" Except then he realizes  just what he's protesting about, and there's no trick of the light to explain the blush that burns across his own face. "I mean, it might not be appropriate dancing.."

Their fingers link together, both hands, and Claude tugs him along while his eyes take on that trademark curious shine. "Oh? And just what kind of inappropriate dancing does Dimitri Blaiddyd know?"

His blush didn't need more tinder, it really didn't. "Not like that. Just- alright, very well, so it was ballroom dancing, okay?"  Dimitri was rather expecting the burst of hyena-like laughter from Claude. Knowing it was coming doesn't make him stop his resulting sigh. "Yes, yes, I know."

"I have so many questions," Claude gasps as he's hauled along, blinking away tears of mirth. "Oh, you poor soul. At what age?"

There are no end of words to describe his feelings towards Claude... but Dimitri really does consider flinging him into the grass, just a little bit. "I'd just started elementary school," he huffs. He's not really sure what dance they're doing, honestly. Theoretically, as the taller person, he should be leading... but he really genuinely has no idea. He just twirls Claude around and tries not to step on his feet. As long as he can do that second part and Claude has fun, Dimitri will consider this an accomplishment. "My grandparents- ah, watch out- they were insistent on it, so, into a class I went. I only did it for a year."

If Claude grins any wider, his face is going to split apart. "Of course. It was the grandparents. I should have known. That can't be the only kind of dance you know, can it?"

"Does the Cha Cha Slide count?" Dimitri comments dryly, and is rewarded by Claude clinging to him to stay upright as he bursts into laughter once again.

At this point, it's more Dimitri carrying Claude around instead of the two of them dancing properly, but that's more than fine. Dimitri would carry Claude around everywhere just to see the way he smiles up at him. "Oh, that eternal classic. Should we give it a go here and now?"

This time it's Dimitri's turn to laugh. "Claude, it's a mariachi band, we're not doing the Cha Cha Slide to mariachi-!"

They end up trying anyway, just a little bit, laughing the entire time before they go back to the clumsy turns and twists they try to attach to the music. Dimitri is pretty sure that, together, they're not very good, and that's fine. A lot of people in the audience aren't good either. It doesn't matter. They're smiling, both of them, everyone, and he thinks that's more than good enough. The song finishes to applause, the world still warm.

Filtering out from the park into the cool and dark city air feels sort of strange, a dichotomy that he usually only associates with going home at around this hour. Yet it's not entirely the same. How could it be, when Claude is still cuddling against his side, humming along to the last song of the night? "I wonder if we would have stayed out this late if the arcade had still been open," Dimitri muses, guiding them both to the subway.

"Who knows," Claude dismisses casually, utterly content in not bothering with hypotheticals. Dimitri likes that, too. He gets lost in his head far too often. "But while the arcade would have been a pretty fun night on its own, I don't mind the twist our date took." Once they're down in the subway, the heat of rails and electricity curling around them, Claude still doesn't detach from his side. Dimitri tries not to let his heart get too far up his throat. "The food was great, even if that sugar skull might keep me awake for a million years, and I got to do one of my favorite things."

"Doing the Cha Cha Slide to mariachi?"

The sharp bark of laughter bursting out of him isn't quite the same as when it rolls out of Claude in a tidal wave, but Dimitri still likes it. "It might place on the list now!" he snickers as the two of them make their way past the gates, the only thing that finally gets them to detach for a minute. "But I was thinking more learning about things. The museums really put together a hell of an event. Of course..." Tilting his head back, he smiles at Dimitri from the corner of his eye. "Learning about you was pretty nice too. Ballroom dancing and all."

Maybe it was a regret telling Claude about that; Dimitri's blush goes to his ears. Yet there's no time for him to argue about that. They're at a split in stairways leading to different lines, and he hesitates.

It's the end of the night, the end of their date, and he really should let Claude go. He's probably exhausted... and this is only their second date. Yet he really, truly doesn't want to. "So do you have anything on the agenda when you get back to your apartment?" he asks, lingering as he stalls for time. Just a couple minutes more. He swears that's all he'll ever ask for.

It must be terribly obvious to someone as quick as Claude, but he doesn't call Dimitri out on it. All he does is stay perfectly comfortable by his side. "Hmm... You know, I didn't make any concrete plans?" He grins slyly up at Dimitri. "I didn't know how long I'd be out with you... and I'm pretty pleased with my own intelligence, because we sure have been out for a while, haven't we?" Another soft laugh leaves him at the sight of Dimitri's embarrassed blush. "So I'm pretty free right now."

Dimitri hadn't said anything, it was just an innocent question... and yet something about Claude's phrasing really does make it seem like an invitation in some ways. He swallows thickly, heart beating rapidly in his chest to the point that it almost doesn't seem to have any weight.

"I see," he says, not sure what else to say. It's only the second date, he reminds himself. How could he rush on the second date? Unless... "Well, I do feel rather terrible for taking up so much of your time. I know that your apartment is quite a ways from the subway station." Be natural. Be calm. He can do both of those things, can't he? "I think I would rather worry if I let you go like this, leaving you to walk dark streets all on your own."

That sly grin only seems to grow on Claude's lips. "Now, are you inviting me to your apartment, sir?" he murmurs softly, slowly pulling his hands out from his pockets, fingertips brushing along Dimitri's hand.

"You make it sound scandalous like that!" Dimitri protests, earning more of Claude's chuckling. "But- yes, I am. Not for any untoward reason-"

"Which I wouldn't mind if it was," Claude says with a wink.

Dimitri blushes some more, but barrels forward or else he knows they won't get anywhere. "But my couch can unfold and become a bed, so you could stay the night and get back home come morning. You don't have work tomorrow, isn't that right? So I could... try to make breakfast, if you'd like." Dimitri has no real confidence in his ability to cook, although it's perfectly edible and hasn't gotten him sick yet. Still, he feels he should make the offer. "Or we could even go out, if that isn't appealing to you."

"The way you tacked that on makes it sound as though you're worried about what you would feed me," Claude notes in amusement. "But now I'm curious for the breakfast alone." And with that, Claude leans them a little bit in the direction of Dimitri's path. "Then, shall we?"

This late at night, and it's definitely the time when more than a few strange folks sometimes pop up... But fortunately, none of them board the same car Dimitri is in, looking like a rather strange type himself which is almost a sort of defense in a way. The strangest thing they come across is the stop where two women join their car, both of them using their bodies combined to hold up one of the largest and most serene pythons that Dimitri thinks he has ever seen. Claude even asks for a picture, and gets one.

Besides a run in with the python women, nothing else of note occurs on the way to Dimitri's apartment, and Claude keeps up a casual stream of chatter that Dimitri listens to with only occasional input. Part of that is because he simply likes to hear Claude talk. The other part is because he really is starting to feel the drag of the night himself, his mind wanting to tuck itself away after what's become a rather satisfactory night.

Yet of course, when they take the elevator up to his floor, that's when things don't become entirely as simple as they'd like. They've barely stepped out into the hallway when the door before his clicks open, and Annette is sticking her head out. "See, Mercie, I told you I had heard it moving when I came in-" And then she pauses, finally looking out from her apartment towards Dimitri... and Claude. "Oh! Oh."

At his side, Dimitri is distinctly aware of Claude's absolutely shameless grin and the equally shameless waggle of his fingers he sends Annette's way. He's also distinctly aware of how red his own face has gotten. "Good evening, Annette. Working late?" he asks as he hurries Claude down the hall.

That snaps her out of it a little bit. "Oh, yeah! You know how it is." A wide smile spreads across her face, and she sticks out her hand. "And it's nice to meet you! You must be Claude, right? Dimitri's said soooo many great things about you!" While him and Claude are passing by the open door, Dimitri can see into her apartment where Dedue has gotten to his own feet with two mugs in his hand. At both the image of Dimitri and Claude passing front of his apartment along with Annette's own words, his expression subtly shifts to one of both understanding and sympathy.

In the meantime, Claude accepts Annette's hand with a wide grin. "I could say the same, including all the fantastic things Dimitri has said about you in turn." The unexpected compliment has her pause, and then brightly beam. "Anyway, we don't want to keep you when you've just gotten off work. See you later!" He winks and waves, thankfully allowing himself to again be herded down the hallway where Dimitri's door is.

That's a relief. What's slightly less of a relief is when Dimitri glances back towards Annette's apartment to see her giving him a thumbs up before Dedue's patient hand comes into sight to guide her back.

"They're all going to think the worst," Dimitri says in quiet dismay once the two of them are finally in his apartment. He forgets to take off his shoes and discounts taking his coat off entirely, instead pulling his phone out for a frantic text. He barely notices Claude displaying some slightly better manners as he reaches down to remove his own sneakers.

Hell, he barely notices Claude when he asks, amused, "And just why would they think that?"

Dimitri has an entire message already written out and ready to send to Dedue when that question makes him pause. Actually explaining why he's embarrassed, it's.. Well, he actually needs a moment to formulate the words in his head and hope they leave his tongue making some modicum of sense.

"I... Well, perhaps calling it the worst would be an over-exaggeration," he admits. His anxiety and depression aren't at their worst right now- he likes to think the night has helped as much as it's probably been his medication and therapy- but old habits are hard to let go of. Sometimes they simply crop up. He knows, factually, that Dedue and everyone else in that apartment has seen him at far worse and that being seen bringing home his boyfriend after a date isn't anywhere near that level. "I'm just worried. Well. Embarrassed would be the more suitable term."

"Yeah, you don't seem like the type to kiss and tell," Claude says with a laugh, hanging up his coat. "Although that tendency might not matter when your friends are your neighbors right down the hall."

Sighing, Dimitri begins to delete his message for something a little more... reserved. Something that's one sentence, maybe. "I really wasn't considering that as a problem I might face when I encouraged them to move in, you know," he says, hoping his text is good enough before he finally puts it away. He really needs to start taking off his own boots and jacket.

Claude has already moved over to sprawl shamelessly along the couch, texting presumably Hilda or Lorenz to let them know he won't be coming back tonight. "I'm surprised you haven't had to deal with that on your end," he notes, putting his phone onto the coffee table. "Thick walls or considerate neighbors?"

A furious red crosses over Dimitri's face, and he coughs into one hand as he hangs up his own jacket. "Who knows," he says, voice a little bit tight, before he desperately tries to change the subject. "Do you think you'll be fine sleeping in those clothes? I can give you some spare t-shirts of mine, if you don't mind them being a little big."

For whatever reason, that makes Claude's eyes completely light up, and he rises to a sitting position on the couch. "It would definitely help keep my current clothes a little cleaner for when I have to get back home in the morning," he says, although that seems a bit reserved for the gleam of excitement in his eye. "I'd love to wear some of your spare clothes."

"Then, I'll go get some." Now free of his own boots, Dimitri tilts his head towards the kitchen. "Help yourself to anything you like. There's nothing I'm really saving for a special occasion." In a few weeks, that might change, but there's no need to hold Claude back now. With that permission given, Dimitri heads to his room, flicking lights on along the way.

Of course, once he's in his room, he has to face the state of his room, and Dimitri grimaces while he hastily shuts his door behind him. One of these days, he swears he's going to clean it all up. He really will. It's just so easy to put off, now that he's living on his own especially.

At least when he was roommates with Sylvain, he'd felt compelled to do it from a mixture of Sylvain's casual reminders or comments along with his own guilt spurring him onwards. Some of that has even stuck, he supposes, or otherwise the rest of his apartment would be just as bad as his bedroom. He'd never be able to stomach inviting Claude over in that case. But his own room, where no one ever comes to visit except for when Ingrid is feeling especially up to the task of checking in on his health....

"Tomorrow," he promises himself, taking a quick detour to write a sticky note and attach it to his desktop computer. While he's thinking of it, he has to write it down. He still might not follow his own orders come the next day, but... Well, he at least has to give it a go. Maybe his own shame will finally force him to work.

But tomorrow is another day. For tonight, which is happening right now, he has to get clothes for Claude to sleep in, because if he can't be a privately clean host, he can at least be an attentive one. Their height difference means that anything he gives Claude is guaranteed to be at least just a tad too large, honestly. Still, Dimitri does the best he can.

He makes sure not to dig anything out of his "I can probably wear this twice in a row" pile, instead going for his drawers, and finds some sweatpants with drawstrings that should help mitigate the size difference issue. There are a few t-shirts he could donate to this cause, and it's here he's slightly more picky. Claude would probably be fine with anything... But still. Dimitri fusses until he manages to find a shirt with a stylized crescent moon on it. It's not the worst thing in his closet, he supposes. It can do until when he next does laundry.

Not that he's going to make it a habit of just inviting Claude over to make him stay the night in such terrible conditions, he reminds himself, tucking the clothing under his arm. Although maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing? He doesn't think the internet ever mentioned dating advice for this specific kind of situation. At the very least, he should prepare a proper bed or something ahead of time instead of shoving Claude onto his couch.

"I've got some things," Dimitri announces upon returning to the living room, only to find Claude leaning over the small Ipod station he has set up not too far from the television.

Claude looks over his shoulder with a grin. "Great, then I'll just change in the bathroom." He jabs a thumb in the direction of the Ipod. "I was thinking of putting on some music just to fill up the awkward silence of standing in someone else's apartment with nothing to do, but I didn't want to mess with anything just in case."

Shrugging, Dimitri puts down the clothing onto the coffee table. He imagines Claude can grab them whenever he's ready. "Oh, I don't mind. I probably should have turned something on to start with. I apologize." He's not used to having guests over anymore. Honestly, he can't remember having guests over in years... Well, besides his friends, and Dimitri knows none of them would hesitate on turning on the television or booting up a game if they were bored.

Claude gives him that bright grin, goes "Great!", and turns back to the Ipod to turn it on. Dimitri doesn't think too much more about it, even as the first few lyrics begin filtering in. He's a bit more preoccupied with adjusting furniture so that the couch has room to unfold. He's recalling where his extra sheets are when his brain actually begins to do some processing, and realizes just what song in particular is filtering out from the speakers.

It's all a rather cheery and sort of fun, in audio alone. A sort of vintage tune, as though straight from the 1940s. And then, the lyrics, well...

I've pressed, I've pushed, I've yelled, I've begged
In hopes of some success
But the inevitable fact is that I never will impress!

Dimitri whirls around on his feet, straightening up in the process. "No, don't, that's a, can we change it?" he fumbles out, even as his brain already knows that the words coming out of his mouth won't be in time. Claude blinks over at him, eyebrows raised, but it's too late. The lyrics continue to roll out.

I've no more fucks to give!
My fucks have runneth dry!
I've tried to go fuck shopping but there's no fucks left to buy!

Slowly, Dimitri covers his face with both hands, and he can hear Claude try to choke back a laugh with minimal success. "I apologize," he grits out, "that you had to hear.... Well. It's not particularly the most polite song to have in company, is it?"

There's no immediate answer beyond more choked back laughter, and Dimitri peeks out from between his fingers. Claude is bent over the table, hand at his mouth, shaking with how much he's trying to hold back just absolutely losing it right there in Dimitri's living room.

It takes him a moment to respond. "I've seen you in a virgin killer sweater and one pane of glass away from wrestling lions," Claude says, laughter still bubbling throughout his voice. Even with his own embarrassment being what it is, Dimitri can't help but appreciate the sound. "I think we can safely move away from whatever is polite. Although-" He takes a breath, hand fluttering as if he can exorcise his own desire to cackle. "Is it really that embarrassing for you?"

He does sound genuine there, at least. Dimitri faintly remembers his words at the zoo grill, promising to watch out for himself and asking Dimitri to check him in turn.

Well, he supposes he should reassure him. It's not that big a deal, after all. Sighing, Dimitri sweeps his hair back from his face. "I suppose it's mostly embarrassing because, well, that song is for... particular occasions?" With the couch unfolded, he leans forward to rest his weight against a chair instead. "It's a song I save for bad days, or when I'm simply frustrated with something." He makes a small gesture, fingers splayed out. "But this has been a rather fantastic night. So I guess it just feels... extra inappropriate in terms of context."

"Inappropriate or not, I think it's the most hilarious thing I've heard in a while," Claude chuckles. "Like I said, this is definitely more than fine. So..." He looks over to him, those green eyes shining and his grin wide. "Can I restart it and appreciate the whole thing?"

Well, the cat's already out of the bag. Shaking his head, Dimitri makes a 'go ahead' sort of wave. "If you really want, although I warn you that it's all very much in line with the chorus."

"Perfect." And with that, Claude starts the song all over again. Stepping away from the ipod, he leans back against the chair on the opposite side from Dimitri to apparently just... savor the music. He manages to keep it mostly together through the first few verses that he's already heard, although his hand is over his mouth like that is going to hide the enormous grin he's wearing. But once it gets to the parts they were talking over?

I've no more fucks left to give!
My fuck fuse has just blown
I've been hunting for my fucks all day but they've upped and fucked off home!

....Right. That's when Claude begins to absolutely lose it, laughing so hard from the pit of him and clutching his stomach as though he's afraid it will fall out from the force of his cackling. Dimitri honestly isn't sure how on earth he can even hear the song if he's laughing so hard and so much. Still, well. At least he's happy. All he does is wait it out, biting back a grin of his own. "Are you done now?" he asks.

At some point in his mad cackling, Claude had twisted around to bury his face into the chair cushions, fingers holding onto it as if for dear life. There are still a few leftover giggles when he straightens up, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. "I think I could listen to that forever," he tells Dimitri, crossing his arms over the back of the chair as he cranes his head back to look at him. "You know, I was imagining a lot of different songs you might have on your playlists, but that isn't something I could have ever dreamed of. I'm honestly impressed."

Absently, in the back of his head, Dimitri can't help but think how good he looks like this: rosy faced, bright eyed, grinning brilliantly. It's like seeing him at the protest all over again. The rest of his brain, thankfully, is more occupied with the conversation at hand.

"And just what kind of music did you think I listened to? Because that's only a very small sample, I can promise." In fact, more of his music is already beginning to play. Dimitri might not be paying the most attention to it, but he can still faintly recognize it as some sort of.... calming lo-fi sort of nonsense. If only that had been the music to come on instead of his 'laying face down on the couch' song.

A long faux-thoughtful hum rolls out of Claude as he pretends to remember. "Let's see... Well, tonight, after learning about your fascinating childhood, I was putting a bet on the small percentage that you would still be haunted by classical music even to this day." When Dimitri groans, because he's not even entirely wrong, Claude laughs. "But my main bet was actually on any mix of the top 100 songs... from ten years ago."

Dimitri squints at him warily. "Did you look into the different songs I have on there already?" he accuses, and shakes his head when Claude bursts out laughing again.

Fortunately it only lasts a few seconds instead of minutes. "I did," Claude admits after a moment, smiling. "But I didn't get very far before you came back. I got sidetracked by what looks like a heavy metal album. Now, that, I understand far more for frustration music, honestly."

"I listen to it sometimes for my work out days with Felix," Dimitri admits, pushing himself away from the chair so that he can scoop up the clothes he's put on the table.

He doesn't go much further in-depth on that. On how his workout days with Felix are the only ones he doesn't have on his regular schedule. On how they just meet up when either one of them is frustrated and angry. That would bring about a long complex discussion he's not really sure he's ready to have with Claude, or ever would be interested in having. Some things... They're just for him, and Felix.

Instead, for right now, he hands over the change of clothing. "Do you want me to put on a movie, and get some light snacks to eat? It feels rather rude to invite you to stay the night and then simply shove you to bed."

Claude chuckles. "Such a gentleman," he teases. "I wouldn't mind a movie like the one we watched last time, then." Winking, he heads towards the bathroom. "See you in a minute."

Well, it shouldn't take that long to change, Dimitri imagines. He heads to his kitchen, flicking on one of its smaller lights so that he can begin perusing what he has available. They've just gotten back from a nice night with a good meal, and they'll soon go to sleep besides. Nothing too heavy... But he, personally, will certainly need *something* to go alongside his medication, to make sure his stomach has food in it.

He's narrowed down his choices a little bit based on what he's eaten late at night before when he hears the sounds of footsteps, and clothing shifting against itself because it's too big. "So, what I was thinking-" he starts to say, turning to face Claude, before he finds himself coming to an utter silent halt.

Whatever product Claude puts in his hair normally, he's washed out now, and that leaves behind those gentle curls falling across his head and framing his face. Dimitri had always thought he'd rather liked the braid that occasionally is done up besides his face, courtesy of Hilda, but everything as it is... That's still far too attractive all on its own. Maybe it's Dimitri feeling too self-important, but he can't help feeling as though he's being allowed to see something soft and private, too. Something he only gets to see because Claude is comfortable.

That alone would kill him. It truly and genuinely would. Yet, as Dimitri takes in Claude's appearance, he realizes he's made a grave tactical error. When he'd offered some spare clothes to his date, he'd been doing it to be polite.

He could not have possibly have known ahead of time that seeing Claude in his clothes- and they are distinctly his clothes, sagging and loose all around Claude's frame- would make his heart body-slam straight into his ribs. That can't be normal, can it? This shouldn't be a big deal at all. While Dimitri can't recall a single moment in the past where he's loaned his clothing to someone he's dated, well, he and his friends have done it all the time. Sylvain, earlier, is even a prime example of that. So what is it about Claude that's getting him so worked up?

Besides how his shirt is just a little too large on Claude, slipping downwards to expose just a bit more of the curve from his neck down to his shoulder.

Besides how Claude hasn't bothered to really roll up the sweatpants he's put on, leaving just his toes to peek out from a swath of fabric, something Dimitri didn't think about but which somehow only matches the overall softness that's been brought into his apartment.

Besides how so utterly intimate this all somehow feels, with his loose hair and clothing he could curl into and that easy smile on his face, to the point that Dimitri wants to stride over to him. He wants to dip his hand beneath his own shirt, watch it crumple underneath his wrist as he slides his hand along Claude's stomach before stealing a kiss.

"So?" Claude says, breaking Dimitri's stupefied chain of thought.

When he rather numbly blinks up to look at Claude, the other man's relaxed and easygoing grin has shifted to something a little more sly and amused. "Pardon?" he says, trying to snap his own brain out of it.

Claude's sly grin only widens. "So what were you thinking?" he prompts. "You were in the middle of talking when I suppose something.... caught your eye."

...Oh. Oh no. Dimitri feels his entire face, right to his hairline, begin to heat up. Has he been staring silently at Claude this entire time? How long was he allowed to do that?

Hastily, he clears his throat and tears his gaze away lest he somehow fall to temptation once again. "So," he says, trying to continue as if he didn't make a complete and utter fool of himself. "I've told you before that I try not to have too many typical snack foods around, but there are a few things that wouldn't be bad to eat at this time. How do you feel about bananas, or some almonds?"

Another beat of silence, but now at least it's not on his end. Unfortunately, when he looks over to Claude again to see exactly what's taking so long, that sly grin is still absolutely in place. When he sees the question in Dimitri's stare, Claude tilts his head to the side with another low laugh. "So," he says, a single syllable word drawn out slow. "You're offering me a banana and some nuts. Is that it?" Mirth absolutely shines in those eyes of his.

Dimitri doesn't get it. At least, he doesn't get it until Claude raises one hand and curls his fingers into a loose circle around absolutely nothing. The pure suggestiveness of the action, even without the look on Claude's face, sends Dimitri's face from 25% heat to a full and broken 200% burning in record time.

One of these days, he's going to learn. That's what Dimitri hopes, anyway, as he finally gives up all pretense of looking through his cupboards to instead lean back against his counters and just cover his face in his hands. "May I please be put down in the back of the apartment complex like a beast instead of continuing to exist and embarrass myself?" he mutters into the air.

Claude's soft laughter accompanies the sound of his shuffling footsteps until he's right besides Dimitri, and one of his hands pries his away so that they can look at each other. "I think I'd have some objections if that happened," he tells him, smoothly interlocking their fingers together. "Who else would take me on so many fun dates, then?"

While his face is still painfully red, Dimitri manages to smile. "I still say we've technically only had two."

A wink. "And I still say we've had five, plus so many little visits to the Golden Deer and our own texting on the side."

Dimitri is fairly certain that the other three occasions definitely weren't dates, on account of Dedue, Raphael, and Felix being involved, at the very least. Still.... Huffing and letting his other hand drop, he smiles a little bit wider. "When people talk about cheating on their dates, I never thought this is what they meant," he tells Claude, shyly keeping their hands linked while he can get away with it.

"That's because my version of cheating is far superior."

"Well, I won't argue with you on that front." Taking a knife out from a drawer- just a butter knife, he doesn't think he really needs anything sharper- Dimitri tilts it in Claude's direction. "Bananas. But I'm cutting them."

"Ha ha, aww." Claude lets go of his hand so that he can get to work, something Dimitri can't help but regret even though he knows it's absolutely necessary. "Can we have peanut butter with them? Since you're cutting them to begin with."

"If you'd like." That shouldn't change too much, and it does taste good that way. Dimitri pours them both small glasses of milk, which will go fine with both banana and peanut butter, and they share in carting it all back over to the couch-that's-now-become-a-bed. Dimitri makes sure to bring his pill organizer along with him, the bright colors standing out along what looks like a rather plain line up of snacks.

While he's getting the movie set up, Claude glances over it. "I don't think I've ever seen that many pills stuffed into a container before," he comments once Dimitri returns to the seat. "Let me guess: only two or three are for dealing with the actual schizophrenia and probable depression, and then everything else is just for managing the side effects that come with those. Am I on the right track?"

While Dimitri smiles, he also can't help but be a little surprised. Pleasantly so. "That's right. Did you hear about this sort of thing from Raphael, with his sister...?"

"Well, partially." Claude begins to make himself comfortable on the couch, so Dimitri starts to slowly follow suit. "But since you told me about your own schizophrenia, I started to do a little bit of research. I figured I should try to make some effort of my own instead of just harassing you for information."

"I told Raphael he could ask me anything he liked, and that applies to you too, you know."

"Oh, I know." Claude grins brightly at him. "But trust me, I'm so nosy that you'd die first before I was finished with all my questions. I should at least try to ease some of the burden off. So, what's this terrible movie about?"

It's an old Godzilla movie versus one of many questionable monsters in his vast lineup, complete with just as questionable dubbing. It's fun, and silly, and they make it through the vast majority of the bananas in less than half an hour. At some point- Dimitri has no idea when- Claude settles against Dimitri completely with his head resting along his chest. Such a soft little motion, it makes Dimitri's heart ache. He tries to tell himself, when he takes a break to swallow his medication, that he'll be careful moving Claude off of him before they both fall asleep.

Before the episode finishes, however... Well. Dimitri doesn't know which of them drifts off first. The last thing he remembers... is how neatly Claude fits against his own body, and the way their slowing breath matches perfectly.