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Date with a Dress

Chapter 2: Adding Fuel to the Fire Will Make it Burn Out Faster, Right?

Notes:

Upped rating to E. I'm trying to straddle that line between M and E, and I don't plan on having any sex / overly explicit scenes, but better safe than sorry. I am a simple being, what can I say? I simply must write Dimitri as being Unbearably Horny for Claude.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It did not, in fact, blow over.

He tried giving it time. During class, he failed to focus even slightly. He fell into daydreams about Callie or Claude at the drop of a hat. Dedue noticed his inability to focus. The last thing he needed was to worry his retainer! Not even that could get him to focus, though. Something was wrong with his brain. Anything remotely green or yellow brought Claude to his mind. Any smile was compared to Callie’s cute little grins. Blast, even Dedue’s earring reminded him of Claude!

After class, he dragged Sylvain to the training grounds. For that, he was able to focus, thank the Goddess. Sylvain was forced to take their training very seriously. His friend may have left with a few extra lumps. Was it fair to take out his frustration on Sylvain? Not exactly, but Sylvain had it coming. Karma. Ingrid would agree.

Only two nightmares interrupted his sleep that night, and they were downright benign compared to his usual fare. The first was more a ‘bad dream’ than anything. Embarrassing himself in front of Claude and Callie wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than endless swathes of death. The second one involved being forced to choose who lived and who died between Claude and Callie. Despite knowing better, he went back to sleep after both those dreams. Typically that would escalate the severity of his next nightmare.

He didn’t have another nightmare, but he did regretfully need to change his sheets in the morning.

“Give it time,” he reminded himself. It had only been one day since he took Claude out to dinner. His mind would move on soon. 

He still couldn’t focus in class. Sylvain was now the stellar student and he was the one falling behind. Worse, Dedue reminded him that he had a meeting with the other house heads after class. Which meant meeting with Claude. He had to interact with Claude while also interacting with Edelgard. And he had to interact normally.

He was doomed. His only hope was for time to break and trap him in class forever. Then he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. There were still a few hours of class left. He could make those last.

“Dimitri. Dimitri.”

“Y-yes?!” Blast, those hours went by like minutes. He tore his head up from where he was counting threads on the table cloth. Edelgard raised an eyebrow at him. “Apologies, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I noticed.” Her eyes shifted to Claude. Why? Why was she looking at Claude? Her eyes narrowed. “Claude.” Oh no. No no, she didn’t know, did she? She couldn’t know! They only just sat down together! How did she figure it out so fast?!

“Yes, Princess?” Claude asked, taking a sip of his tea like there was nothing in the world that could bother his pretty peach lips. Those eyelashes fluttered, and—and he snapped his head to the side, staring intently at a bush. It was green. Just like Claude’s eyes. Dammit.

“Claude.” She knew. His shoulders slumped. She knew. “Did you poison Dimitri?” She didn’t know! He was safe!

“Not intentionally.”

“Claude, what did you do to Dimitri?”

“Nothing! A man with as impressive a poison collection as mine can’t keep track of every stray vial. I didn’t poison Dimitri, though if he stumbled across a stray vial, well…”

“Claude did not poison me,” he said with a deep sigh. “I apologize, Edelgard. I have not been sleeping well.” He went to take a sip of the lovely chamomile in his cup. He didn’t even fit his hands around the vessel before thinking better of the action. There was no possible way he could take a sip without breaking it.

“Need some help, Your Princeliness?” Claude teased him with a knowing look.

“I’m not thirsty.” He was extremely thirsty.

The meeting proceeded. Not smoothly, but it proceeded. He only got caught staring at Claude’s face twice. The rest of the time he had the wherewithal to stare at the tablecloth instead. 

Claude poked him. “Edelgard left, if you spaced out for that.”

“I didn’t.” He absolutely did.

“Then why are you still sitting here?” He could hear Claude’s smirk. That stupidly cute smirk… “Usually you rush off to the training grounds.”

“Yes, well, I should head out…”

“Oh no you don’t.” Claude placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked everywhere that wasn’t Claude. “You have it bad, Dimitri.”

“Need I remind you this is your fault? Instead of rubbing salt in my bleeding wounds, you should take responsibility for your actions.” 

“Not sure what you want me to do here. I could… kiss it better.”

Crunch went the edge of the table as his fingers pierced the wood. Claude whistled. He very much wanted those lips on his again, foolish as the notion was. Claude’s lips would not cure him. Those siren lips would surely send him deeper down this poisoned well.

Claude wrapped around his shoulders, placing his chin directly on his head. Every muscle in his body tensed. Claude’s chin was on his head. He could feel Claude’s every swallow. “Yep, that’s kind of a problem. We need to be able to talk eye-to-eye if we want to have a usable diplomatic channel in the future, and all that. It’s going to be a struggle to discuss trade policy if you can’t even look at me. Granted, I think the advantage here is in my court, buuut I’d prefer you at your best, Your Princeliness.”

His throat was absolutely dry. He heard everything Claude said, the rich tones of his voice, and digested the rough meaning. Formulating a reply was too tall of an order, though. “Uh.”

“That right there, exactly. Lucky you, I have a plan to fix this.” Oh thank the Goddess, Claude had a plan.

 

 


 

 

Goddess help him, Claude had a plan. He was doomed. Somehow he ended up back in his room taking private tea with Callie. Callie, not Claude.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” he croaked, staring down at his tin cup. Despite his best efforts, he already warped it.

“You need a clear distinction in your head between ‘Claude’ and ‘Khali’. Thus, some exposure-therapy is in order.” The way Callie said her own name was beautiful. She spoke with a subtle lilt on the vowel. Her sweet voice dipped into a giggle. “Look up, Dimitri.” The way Callie said his name sent heat plummeting down his stomach. “Come now, look at me. I dressed up just for you.”

“Why do you have so many female outfits?” he blurted out. Her shoulders were exposed for all to see (for only him to see). The collar of the dress circled around her chest, giving just the barest illusion of cleavage. As she tilted her head, her earring — a dangling piece with a green gem at the end — caught the light just right to sparkle.

"Like I said before, a fella has needs." Callie's voice was practically a purr as she traced his chin.

"A-are you sure this is going to work?" His face was burning. He was dying. He was aching at the sight of her. Did she have any idea how much she was teasing him?

"What's my name?" she cooed in his ear.

"Do you mean, ahem, Claude? Or Callie?"

"You're going to forget Claude entirely by the time I'm done with you." Her perfume filled his head. "I'll get jealous if you say his name."

He gulped and nodded. She proceeded to sit down on his lap. The end of his lap on his knees, thank the Goddess, because his whole body jerked and he had a problem developing. "I—"

"Shh." She pressed her finger to his lips. He wanted to touch her so badly. To hold her hips, feel beneath, to grope her like an animal in heat. This had to leave his head if he was to focus on anything! He had never felt like this about anyone and it was horribly distracting. Her finger traced his lips, trailing down to brush under his chin. “You will tell me if you need or want me to stop. Understood?”

“U-um, yes?”

“Good boy.” He lurched, a bolt of arousal striking him so suddenly that he nearly bucked Callie off his lap. “You like being a good boy, mm?” Her hand traced his jaw all the way up to his hair, her fingers threading through his locks. “That’s good. You’re always such a good boy.”

“I’m not.” He was as far from being ‘good’ as possible.

“You think so?” Her nails gently scratched his scalp. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she whispered in his ear, pressing their chests together as she leaned in close. He bit his lip hard enough to bleed. “Ever had anyone else this close, big boy? Any woman this close?”

He was vibrating out of his skin. “No. Not since I was a boy. B-but that was just wrestling with Ingrid. Who was a girl, not a woman. At the time. So, u-uh, no.”

“Oo, exciting! We get to discover what you like together.” Abruptly, she tugged on his hair. The spark of pain made him moan, to his mortification. He nearly slapped Callie as he slammed his hand over his mouth. She tutted, lightly patting at his hand. The reprimand had him sheepishly lowering his hand. “That’s better. I want to hear you. Exploration, Di-ma.” The way she said his name made him shiver. “I need to hear you to learn what you like. No shame in that. Besides, your voice is so sweet.” Her slim body pressed against his. His hands hovered above her, not daring to touch. “Doing okay, Dimitri?” She petted the tuft of hair that still stung with pleasure, her other hand tilting his chin to direct his eyes to look at her.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out.

For a moment, Callie’s eyes widened. Just a little. Perhaps he imagined it though. She chuckled, low and soft. “That wasn’t my question.” He bobbed a shaky nod in response. “Verbally, Dimitri. Is this okay?”

“Yes,” he said, not wanting whatever this was to end. 

“Good boy,” she cooed, and he had to bite his lip again to keep himself silent. Her lips pressed over his, giving him the perfect place to hide his moans.

“C-Callie…” he gasped between breaths, his hands landing on the small of her back.

“That’s it, say my name again.”

“Callie…!” She rewarded him with another kiss. 

Her body pressed against his, pushed against his. Every point of contact burned through him. “I’m trying to push you over, Dimitri,” she said with a laugh. “Humor me?” He thumped down onto the bed at her command, failing to bite back another moan at the sight of her straddling his waist. “So good at taking orders. What reward do you wish for, my pretty lion?”

“Can I t-touch you?”

She made him wait for an answer. She smiled down at him, tracing a pattern against his chest while she thought it over. “Only if you take off your gauntlets for me first.”

His… gauntlets. He didn’t want Callie to see his burned hands. But… she asked. Her eyes stared down at him, promising whatever he wanted if he kept being her good boy. And he wanted. He wanted unlike he had ever wanted in his life. He wanted her. She commanded him to take off his armor in that sweet, enchanting voice. If he removed his gauntlets, he could touch her.

“Dimitri?”

“You’ll let me touch you? No matter what my hands look like?”

He couldn’t read her. Her eyes were beautiful mirrors, showing nothing within. Her fingers drifted over a clasp on his glove. “Take them off for me, Dimitri.” Her voice was a quiet whisper, sweet and commanding and impossible to resist.

With nervous, shaking hands, he took off the gauntlets. Callie helped him, her hands so much better than his own. Her hands were pretty, textured with thick archer’s callouses. He wanted to feel her hands skin-to-skin. And he did feel them. As soon as his flesh was bare — why did he remove his gloves? She was sure to be horrified — her fingers laced with his.

“Such a good boy for me,” she whispered into his ear. Her warmth caressed his scarred palms. “You may touch me now.”

He touched her. With shaking, nervous, excited hands, he touched her. He touched her in ways he never dreamed of touching another. His large, ugly hands smoothed down her thighs, feeling how much was padding and how much was flesh. He refrained from squeezing, aware how likely that would hurt her. So he just touched. He slipped his hands below her dress and rose upwards, mapping out her legs, thighs, and hips. She gasped, making him freeze.

“What’s the matter?” she cooed.

He didn’t have words. Scrunching his eyes shut, he very, very carefully squeezed. Her flesh was strong and muscular, thighs thicker than he expected. Her hips were padded with a thin layer. Her rear, though, was the true prize. Soft and plump and perfect.

Her lips crashed into his. Her lithe legs slipped out of his grasp as she shifted, distracting him with her tongue. One moment he was touching her, the next they were kissing together, and she slipped out of his grasp. She still touched him, though. Goddess, she was touching him.

“Like how this feels?” she teased, tugging sharply on his hair.

“Ngh!” That was the final straw. He gasped and all the building pleasure exploded out of him. He came.

…He came in his pants.

“Ooo. I’ll take that as a yes.”

How his face didn’t melt off, he had no idea. “Oh. Goddess.”

“Right here, Dimitri. I go by Callie, though, and don’t forget it.”

“You’re prettier than the Goddess,” he blabbed, strung between the heaven of his post-orgasm pleasure and the hell of his post-orgasm shame. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“First time?”

“N-no, I mean, I’ve… I’m a man, of course I have… before.” Callie was a woman as far as his brain was concerned in the moment, and that meant he couldn’t bear to speak openly about his dick. It wasn’t polite.

“First time with someone else?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Shhhshh.” She kissed him gently this time. “I’m flattered.” Her whisper made him whimper, his spent cock weakly twitching. “You were such a good boy. Do you want me to clean you up?”

“N-n-no, I, I can handle that.”

“Thought you would say that.” She giggled. “Did you have fun, Dimitri?”

Hearing his name spoken in her sultry-sweet voice was almost as addicting as being called a good boy. “I believe you witnessed the evidence of my pleasure.”

“True enough.” He shivered at her touch. “I’ll see you again tomorrow, same time.”

“T-tomorrow?!”

“Unless you don’t want to see me…?”

He sat up so fast that she flinched. “No! I mean, yes! I do want to see you! Ah, but, how regular do you plan to make this…?”

She smirked. “Until you can look Claude in the eye without thinking of me.”

Claude? He blinked, having totally forgotten that Callie was Claude until she said his name. 

That night, he dreamed of Callie and not Claude. He had no nightmares, but needed to once again change his sheets in the morning.

 

 


 

 

He failed to focus in class once again. All he could think about was Callie. 

She came again that evening, wearing her cute outfits and her cuter face. He came too, and in less time than before. This time, instead of leaving to let him clean himself, she lingered. She lingered long enough for him to get it up again.

He chased after her praise. She was flattered every time he came for her, rewarding him with access to touch her skin. She was sweet, intoxicating, addictive.

She came the next evening, and the evening after that too. She was a siren drawing him ever closer to the shore, and he was willingly charging forward. It only took her a few days to have him utterly hooked. 

Claude’s plan was working. It was easy to separate Claude from Callie now. It wasn’t perfect, but they had a system in place. To test him, they took tea together every afternoon before Callie’s visits. “To make sure you can be normal,” Claude teased him with a (cute) wink.

They drank tea. Ate snacks. Played chess. Chatted. It was… dare he say it, it was fun. He and Claude shared a shocking amount of interests. 

His focus came back to him slowly but surely. He couldn’t completely avoid the random daydream about Callie in class, but he was able to avoid most of them. And he rarely had daydreams about Claude. It seemed Claude was right. This would blow over. So long as his affections for Callie remained in their designated time slots, that was a win.

 

 


 

 

Claude was in way over his head.

He stood by the fact that his original plan was genius. Dimitri got a date to impress Sylvain, and Claude got a front row seat to any exposed personal information about the future king of Faerghus. If things went really well, it could even be a fond memory for them to reminisce about in the future. Fond memories were great ice breakers, especially during diplomatic talks. Worst case scenario, if Dimitri was upset or disgusted by his cross-dressing (a possible risk, but one he deemed unlikely), he could play it off as a silly youthful prank.

Instead, Dimitri was utterly smitten by his female alter ego. Head over heels over head. Full heartedly enamored. It was the lovesick equivalent of catching tuberculosis. He unintentionally went and wooed the single most eligible bachelor in all of Fódlan.

He couldn't deny that part of his motivation was more self serving than he wanted to admit. Sure, this was a potential avenue to increase his relation with the Faerghan prince. It was also a fun opportunity to dress up, a hobby he rarely got to indulge in. It was also an opportunity to go on a date with Dimitri.

He liked Dimitri. For multiple reasons! The prince had a downright hilarious deadpan humor behind closed doors. And he saw how genuine and kind the prince was to everyone, regardless of status, wealth, or place of birth. Dimitri was open-minded in a way few others were. Basically, Dimitri ticked all of his boxes and then some.

The prince was also cute. And hot. And ripped. That was also a factor.

When Dimitri was so gobsmacked by his feminine attire, he might have played into his role a bit extra. And maybe he had pushed a few buttons, just to see what Dimitri would do. He didn't expect it would last. When Dimitri confessed to finding him cute and charming the next day, he still figured it wouldn't last. That had been his hubris speaking.

Then there was that tea party where Dimitri couldn't look him in the eye. Claude couldn't pinpoint any one single event that sealed his fate, but if he had to pick anything, it was right then and there. He went to Dimitri's room and used every last trick he learned from years under Almyra’s best female spymaster. It worked. It worked better than he imagined.

The fact that he had in-depth training from a prostitute was known only to himself and the madam who trained him for years. It started as a fearful young prince hiding from a violent thug in a brothel he knew to be a covert spy-ring for the crown. It ended in him knowing exactly how to disguise himself as a woman. More than just that, even. He was taught vocal training, not just to hit a feminine voice, but to mimic other pitches too. He was taught how to change his face just enough to look like someone else. He was taught what made men tick and where to exploit their most intimate weak-points. All sorts of things he, as a man (and uninterested in women), would never have learned on his own.

The madam never let him practice on any of her clients. Somehow she had known he was the prince from the start. Despite what he learned, she was adamant that he not go so far as to sleep with just anyone. Not as a prince, and not even as a disguised prince. That lesson stuck. He didn’t like people touching him anyways, and sex typically involved plenty of touching. He never put up a fight that she barred him from ‘real practice’. 

His training came in handy when he fled Almyra. Being able to shapeshift his gender wasn't just an enjoyable hobby, it was a survival tactic. Of course he informed his parents that he was leaving ahead of time; he needed his mother to write him a letter of introduction to Oswald. Before they could discuss how to spirit him out of the city with no one the wiser, he cut them off saying that he already had a plan. They raised an independent son and trusted him to see his plan through. His plan worked flawlessly.

His hobby was put on the backburner in Fódlan. Crossdressing had been a secret in Almyra, but there was more freedom to find the time to practice. In Riegan manor there was too much at stake. In Almyra, the few servants who knew about his dabbling thought it was a cute and charming hobby. In Fódlan, he couldn’t risk his already shaky reputation on the off chance he got caught. Garreg Mach was different, though. Less stiff. More open for him and his peers to act their age, to an extent. He weighed the risks of being caught and found the potential reward far outweighed whatever slap on the wrist he would get if he was caught.

It felt good to dress up again. He was always playing the role of an actor, but it was refreshing to wear a totally different mask for a bit. Dimitri was an easy mark, easier than he expected. Gods, it was thrilling to pull out all the little tricks he learned over the years and watch Dimitri completely fall for him. It was also a bit disturbing how well his little tricks enthralled Dimitri. There was power in having another man infatuated with him. Dangerous power that could easily backfire horribly if he didn’t navigate his situation perfectly. It worried him.

The worst part, though, was realizing how alarmingly vulnerable he was in return. Dimitri was interested in him, and he… 

He hadn't meant to expose the scars on Dimitri’s hands. If Dimitri had a problem with removing the gloves, the prince could have refused! It felt like a step too far. A breach of trust, piercing past the veil of their ‘game’. While he had been stewing over how deep he let himself get with this silly ‘game’, Dimitri started touching him. A lot. It wasn't a bad touch, far from it. Dimitri felt all over his body, touching him like he was… he didn’t even know. Like he was… important. He didn’t know, and he hated not knowing.

Looking back on it, his uncertainty made him double down. Now he was well and truly stuck. Day after day, he kept going back, kept wooing Dimitri, kept letting Dimitri kiss him and touch him, kept plying his tricks to seduce Dimitri. Dimitri was a mess for Khali. It worked: Dimitri could even look Claude in the eye most days! But…

“Good evening, Callie.” Dimitri’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. “Are you ready for our date?” The prince dipped low to kiss his hand.

Khali was a mask just like Claude. Khali wasn’t him, just a facet of himself molded into whatever worked best for the situation. Yet as Dimitri kissed his hand, staring up at him with such vibrant blue eyes, the tables were turned. A week ago, Dimitri had been the one on the back-foot. Now it was Khalid, Khalid, who was the one struggling to hold everything together. Dimitri liked Claude a lot. It was evident as they now took tea every other day together. Not as Khali and Dimitri, but as Claude and Dimitri. He’d proposed the ‘normal’ tea time as a way to gauge how normally Dimitri could act around Claude. A week in and Dimitri could act fairly normal around him once more. They were closer, though. Dimitri’s laugh was warmer than it used to be. Dimitri looked at him, and listened to him, and paid intense attention to him. It was different than the hungry eyes staring at Khali. They were friends? Maybe?

Dimitri was infatuated with Khali and enjoyed Claude’s company. Where did that leave Khalid? Why did it feel like Dimitri was staring into him, seeing him while he was all dolled up? He had flown too close to the sun, now he didn’t know how to distance himself without burning anyone.

“Of course I’m ready.” Dimitri was downright infatuated with Khali. Perhaps he was being arrogant in thinking this, but he worried Dimitri’s feelings might grow into something more. That couldn’t happen. Khali wasn’t real. He wasn’t a woman no matter how well he passed or how much fun he had acting. How was he supposed to pull back, though? Dimitri was sleeping better than he had in months, he could see it in the prince’s posture and eyes. Dimitri was lighter. Dimitri was the sun and Khalid was too close to pull away.

Hand in hand, they met Sylvain in the nearby town. Instead of a restaurant, Sylvain led them to a tavern. A bar, more accurately. 

“Sylvain.”

“What? You could use some help loosening up. This is exactly what you need.”

“Sylvain, we are not having a date in a bar.”

“It’s a tavern, they have food there. C’mon, you need to loosen up, remember?”

Claude did not drink, not when he could help it. If he did drink, he drank as little as possible. He already knew how to have fun and let loose. He didn’t need a poison to impair him. That was just asking for someone to take advantage of him. However, admitting that he avoided alcohol like the plague was just asking to be judged, or worse, forced into a situation where he was told to drink or else. He didn’t think Dimitri was one of those people, but—

“Sylvain, you know I don’t drink.”

“C’mon, just one time?”

“Sylvain, I will break someone’s hand. Or arm. Or worse.”

“You’ll be careful! Just getting a little tipsy won’t hurt.”

Dimitri gave Sylvain a flat look. “Sylvain, if it was just your bones on the line, I would consider it.”

He tucked himself against Dimitri. “We won’t be going to a bar tonight, Sylvain. You heard Dimitri. There are plenty of other fun places around town.”

Mercedes giggled. “I told you he wouldn’t go for it, Sylvain.” Sylvain slumped. “Don’t worry, I knew this would happen. How about a picnic? I already have one set up.”

Sylvain clutched his chest. “Seriously? You were that confident in my failure? I have a heart too, Mercie!”

Mercedes walked them to the outskirts of the town. Sure enough, a little blanket was set out with a basket in the center. She was quick to pull things out. It was mostly baked sweets, he noted. Not his favorite, but he would deal with it.

“Do you like sweets?” he asked Dimitri, looking up at his date and fluttering his eyelashes. That was all it took to turn the prince pink. Credit to Dimitri though, the prince could properly form sentences. That was a sharp improvement from last week.

“I enjoy certain sweets. I’m not a picky eater, though. How about yourself?”

The intensity of Dimitri’s stare prompted him to coyly lower his eyes. “That depends. The taste is good, but I just hate getting the stickiness and all the crumbs on my fingers.”

“I can help with that,” Dimitri promised. His date gestured for him to take a seat. Because he couldn’t help himself, he frowned down at the picnic blanket. He did not like being touched! And yet, he was getting used to it with Dimitri. He had a part to play, and that part included hamming up certain things…

“I don’t like the texture of this blanket,” he told Dimitri, pouting. “And I have to sit on the ground? I love the nature around us, but it doesn’t make a very soft seat.”

“Oh! I can—I can go find you a chair! I’ll go buy one from the nearest—”

“Silly, I see the chair I want right here.” He patted Dimitri’s lap.

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Come here, Callie…” He suppressed a shiver as Dimitri's hands fit around his waist, pulling him close. Despite Dimitri's blush, the blond stared at him with intense eyes. Last week, the prince barely worked up the courage to hold his hand. Now? Now Dimitri was shameless in running a hand under and up the back of his waist. He inhaled sharply as Dimitri’s gloved hands traced the small of his back. Sylvain and Mercedes were right there. And Sylvain definitely saw Dimitri groping him.

Ooooohh hell, what did he get himself into? What was he thinking?! Now he had to force himself to appear totally unaffected when he absolutely was. He could have literally not done that and there would be no problem. He could have sat down beside Dimitri and been totally normal. But no, he just had to be extra.

"What would you like to eat first?" Dimitri asked him, gesturing to all the pastries. Right, because he offered to let Dimitri feed him. Yep, he was a genius. The intensity was going to ramp up. That was how Dimitri worked. And all he knew how to do was continue throwing grease on the fire.

"Well, I don't know." He hummed, stalling for time. His whole body shivered as Dimitri continued to trace circles against his bare skin. Dimitri was a shockingly touchy guy. Hah, who knew? That was good intel for the future. He could use this. Somehow. If he survived that long. “Aren’t you hungry, my Dima?” He turned to look at Dimitri just in time to see the prince’s blue eyes dilate. Idiot. He already knew that using that tone and a nickname combined was a turn-on for Dimitri. He had to pull this back from the brink. Spending most of the week fooling around until Dimitri blew his load was maybe, just maybe, not a great idea. Sylvain and Mercedes were right there.

“I’m hungry, yes,” Dimitri murmured. Not for food. It was instinct to flutter his lashes, wink, and smile ever so sweetly. That was better than outwardly panicking. “May I, perhaps, have a kiss before our meal?”

No, he was trying to de-escalate this! “Since you asked so sweetly…” He giggled, tilting his head to offer his lips. “Just a little one.”

Dimitri didn’t really do ‘little’ kisses. Dimitri’s tongue was in his mouth and it was all he could do to hold back a deep, throaty moan. His fingers clenched around Dimitri’s shirt for anything to hold on to. Last week the prince didn’t even know how to kiss. Now the prince was trying to kiss his soul out of his body! By some miracle, Dimitri left it at that, staring down at him with besotted eyes.

“Here,” the prince told him, bringing something new to his lips. A pastry. He took a little delicate bite, resisting the urge to lick his lips.

“Want a taste?” he offered back, pursing his lips for a second kiss. “It’s very sweet.”

“You are already so sweet.” Dimitri, of course, took his offer. This time, halfway through the kiss, he pulled back. Dimitri looked like a kicked puppy. He just winked and gestured back to the pastry. There. A show of control. Dimitri could kiss him when he allowed the kiss, for as long as he allowed it.

“You two got close fast,” Sylvain noted, lips smug. “Should Mercedes and I leave you two love birds to have some fun? Mm?”

Dimitri flushed. “Sylvain! Don’t be so crude.”

“I was referring to making out, but I absolutely can get more crude.”

“Sylvain.”

Sylvain just winked. “So, Clarissa! Good to see you again. I’ve been looking for you around Garreg Mach, but we must just keep missing each other. Which class are you in?”

Before he could reply, Dimitri was rolling his eyes. “Sylvain. I’m going to say this politely once: Do not seek out my Callie.” Finally Dimitri stopped touching his back. It was only so the prince could tightly wrap arms around his middle.

“Yikes, I still can’t believe you’re the jealous type. I just want to get to know your girl better, I have totally honest intentions!”

“And I have honest intentions that I will break your hand if you touch Callie.” He glanced at Dimitri out of the corner of his eye. That was said so casually.

Sylvain notably put his hands in his lap. “I hear you, Your Highness.”

“Oh, but what if I touch Sylvain?” he teased, wondering how far Dimitri would take this. “Whose hand will you break then?”

“What? Why would you want to touch Sylvain?” Dimitri’s eyes narrowed on the redhead.

“Because I’m not a big fan of jealous lovers, Dima.” He reached out and ghosted his finger against the back of Sylvain’s hand.

Thankfully, Dimitri did not break anyone’s hand. Obviously. As jealous as Dimitri was acting, the prince was still soft at heart. Breaking the hand of a childhood friend just for something as simple as this? No, that wasn’t Dimitri. Now if Sylvain groped him or tried to force himself on him, that would be a different story. Despite Sylvain’s reputation though, he didn’t think the playboy was that type. Dimitri knew that too. All Dimitri did was huff and feed him another bite of pastry.

He allowed Dimitri to feed him a whole pastry. It was good despite how little he cared for sweets. Before Dimitri could get started on a second one, he snagged one of his own. “Your turn, my sweet lion.” He swung his legs around Dimitri’s lithe waist, sliding up his date’s lap. “Say ‘ah.’” There was that adorable blush. Grinning, he tore off a little chunk of pastry and placed it into Dimitri’s mouth. Dimitri obediently chewed and swallowed.

“Callie—”

“Close your eyes,” he murmured, stroking Dimitri’s jaw to draw forth a shiver. Dimitri gulped and did as he asked. As a reward, he fed his date another chunk of pastry. “How is it?”

“It’s, it’s v-very delicious.”

“Compliments to the chef, of course,” he schmoozed, winking at Mercedes. She winked back at him. Sylvain was busy struggling to detach his eyebrows from his forehead. “Here comes another bite, Dima.” This bite, he slipped his fingers a little bit into Dimitri’s mouth, thumbing the prince’s plush lips after he deposited the pastry. Dimitri moaned loud enough for all to hear. A familiar hardness swelled against his rear. Cute. Dimitri was just so easy to rile up.

…He was really bad at this whole ‘de-escalation’ business.

For the next ‘bite’, he pressed their lips together. Dimitri moaned, his arms sliding up and down his waist, squeezing him tight enough to steal his breath. Hell, Dimitri was such a fast learner. Last week the prince couldn’t kiss at all. Now Dimitri’s tongue slid into his mouth with all the passion of a starving beast. He was the one to moan now, muffled by Dimitri’s mouth.

Dimitri kissed like the ocean. Unrelenting, endless, powerful, and inescapable once caught in his grasp. He tried to pull back to get a better angle and regain some control. Dimitri disagreed, chasing his mouth and holding the back of his head in place. Hnnngh, that was hot. His thighs tightened around Dimitri’s waist, his toes curling. He couldn’t pull away from Dimitri’s hold. One hand on his head, the other an enthralling hold around his waist. Dimitri chewed on his lip. He replied with a mewl, a sound he didn’t recognize from himself.

“D—” he tried to say, struggling to bring down the tempo before he was swept up in the tide. Dimitri wasn’t the ocean, he was a tempest. There was no escaping him and his fervor. Dimitri didn’t allow him to speak, barely giving him the chance to breathe between their making out. Dimitri engulfed him, engulfed his mouth, engulfed his body, engulfed his thoughts. Each drag of the tongue was enough to send sparks down his spine. He’d shown the prince a few ways he liked to be kissed over the past week, but now Dimitri was combining everything he learned with unmatched intensity.

It turned out, Claude really liked intensity. His body did, that was for sure. Having anyone so passionate for him was electrifying. His hips bucked against Dimitri’s abs. Damned hells! His panties barely kept him contained. Panting, he looked up and saw Dimitri’s eyes open again. Their eyes met. The pretty blue was all but swallowed with black.

“Callie.”

“Ahem. I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but we’re trying to have lunch here, Your Highness. Put a baby in Clarissa behind closed doors, please.”

Dimitri jolted, his eyes darting up. As soon as they landed on Sylvain, Dimitri smirked. “Jealousy isn’t your color, Sylvain.”

“Jealous?! I’m not jealous. I just—”

Dimitri returned to snogging him with renewed energy. He muffled a moan against the prince’s lips, squirming helplessly. Instead of just holding him, Dimitri squeezed his ass. He squeaked, not expecting it. A light tug to his hair had him squealing all sorts of sounds he wasn’t supposed to make. The most important rule of any engagement: don’t allow the male get the upper hand. Too late for that, he bungled that so badly that his mentor could surly sense his failure all the way back in Almyra.

He gasped and keened as Dimitri kneaded his ass like dough. Over the past week, he’d seen how desperate and needy Dimitri was getting for Khali. He didn’t expect it to be flipped. Claude had been in control the whole time. 

Apparently the presence of Sylvain and Mercedes only added fuel to Dimitri’s inferno. Dimitri wanted him debauched and wanted witnesses. At least the prince wasn’t so far gone as to go all out. No, the prince was just grinding against his thigh and wringing all sorts of neediness out of his body. Now Dimitri was in control. This was the monster that Khali made. No longer a prim and proper prince; this was a man who had been teased to the brink. Kind of impressive that he managed to find Dimitri’s breaking point so soon… Surely the prince couldn’t get more intense than this.

He’d been adamant about not backing down first. Unfortunately, he underestimated how horny the prince was.

“Dimitri, enough.” He was left panting for air. “Stop, enough.” His stomach pinched. The fact that he had to outright call a stop to Dimitri was a failure. He should have retained enough control that he didn’t even need to say it. 

“But Callie—”

“Heel, boy.” Dimitri stiffened and immediately clicked his jaw shut. Back in control. “Aw, that’s my good boy.” He pecked a chaste kiss to the prince’s cheek. “Thank you for listening, my Dima. You’re so sweet.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sylvain’s eyebrows all but fly off his forehead. Mercedes winked at him. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

“I want to kiss you,” Dimitri said with his big puppy-dog eyes, as though they hadn’t just been excessively making out. “Please?” It took all his willpower to not give in. Dimitri just sounded so sweet like that. As soon as he gave permission though, Dimitri was going to snog all the air out of his lungs. Not here. Not in front of an audience. Not while he was so tenuously maintaining control of their relationship.

“A good boy gets treats when he waits and obeys,” he cooed, booping the prince’s nose. Dimitri licked his lips, those ice-blue eyes staring intently into his soul. He suppressed a shiver.

“I’ll wait,” Dimitri promised, still hard as a hilt jammed against his rear. “Can I feed you another pastry?”

“Oh, very well.”

 

 


 

 

Dimitri thoroughly enjoyed their date. He even got vicious satisfaction treating Sylvain to some of his own medicine. But mostly, he enjoyed the whole thing because of Callie.

“Do I get my reward now?” he asked when they returned to the dorms, Sylvain and Mercedes having gone their separate ways. “For being a good boy?”

“You’re always such a good boy, doing as I ask,” she crooned, thumbing back a loose lock of his hair. He leaned into her palm.

“May I kiss you? Please?”

She hesitated. “I thought you wanted your reward.”

“Is it more than a kiss?” he murmured right into her ear, looming close. His hand slipped around her waist. By now he knew it wasn’t particularly narrow, but he didn’t care. He loved it nonetheless. Callie’s waist was still plenty slim and cute, just like the rest of her body. He wanted to see all of her. To touch all of her. To rip off her dress and mark her supple flesh. “I want you.” He wrapped himself further around her, his broad shoulders utterly engulfing her slimmer ones.

“Silly boy,” she cooed, shivering in his hold. “So eager.”

“Yes.” He went in for a kiss. Her finger halted his lips. “Please, Callie, I need you.” He ached for her!

“I can feel that,” she chuckled. Then she fell silent. Her finger remained on his lip, holding him in place. “I am feeling rather tired, Dima.”

He swept her off her feet in an instant, relishing her sharp gasp. “I’ll carry you, then.”

Callie’s laugh was sweet, if a touch higher than usual. He relished it just the same. “So, so eager! Warn me next time, Dima. Understood?” Her voice dipped into something sultry, a sound that left him groaning and needy.

“I understand, Callie.”

“Good boy.” He was her good boy! “Your reward won’t be today. In fact, I don’t want you touching yourself without me around.” She touched his chest. “My good boy can last, can’t he? I’ll be very disappointed if you disobey me.”

He gulped. Somehow, this order was even more arousing, which was the opposite of helpful. “I-I won’t disappoint you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He deposited Callie in front of Claude’s room. There was no one else in the halls, thankfully. She stood up and pecked him on the cheek, then darted away. He missed her already. 

…Now he had to figure out what to do for the rest of the day that didn’t involve his raging hard-on. It didn’t even cross his mind to disobey Callie’s order. She was going to be proud of him for this.

Notes:

Claude: Dimitri is so cute and innocent, this will be easy
Dimitri: -Intensely Horny for Claude-
Claude: oh no. He wants intimacy.

Sylvain: Can y'all not have sex right in front of me, my salad, and Mercedes?
Mercedes: ^-^ I don't mind, you two look like you're having fun!
Sylvain: this is karma, isn't it.
Mercedes: :) The Goddess works in mysterious ways, Sylvain