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bosspigeon · 6 years

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fire emblem: bi awakening ft virion & libra!

I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS DOWN FOR A WHILE, BUT I’VE FINALLY FINISHED IT. whoever you are, anon, you know what lies in my heart of hearts 💖💖💖

When Libra returns to his tent in the evening, aching from neck to ankles from a hard day’s work, he hardly opens his eyes as he removes his robes and sinks onto his narrow cot.

As he lays his head on the lumpy pillow, his tired eyes fly open as he is assaulted by several unfamiliar stimuli all at once. Touch and smell, most notably– the feel of something silky and soft tickling his cheeks, and the sweet perfumes of–

Flowers.

A bundle of flowers, lying sadly crushed upon his pillow, a few petals come loose to scatter across the floor and tangle in his hair when he sits up quickly. There are several varieties, but they all seem to be of similar colors– mostly blue and white with a few little bursts of yellow– carefully bundled into a neat little bouquet and tied with a blue silk ribbon.

Libra sighs gustily as he picks bruised petals from his hair rolls his eyes. “Virion…” he murmurs, torn between irritation and fondness.

The flap of his tent rustles, then flies open. Unfortunately, tent flaps aren’t exactly manufactured with dramatic entrances in mind, so it flops back down in the face of his guest. Said guest fumbles it aside with a soft curse, before slipping inside much more sedately than he seems to have planned, looking suitably cowed by the embarrassing display.

Libra watches it all with his arms folded and one leg crossed primly over the other. “Hello, Virion,” he says, and he can’t quite mask the slight quirk of his mouth.

Virion brightens almost instantaneously upon being addressed, and hurries to bend a knee before the bedraggled cleric, holding out one hand expectantly.

Libra stares at it, one eyebrow raised, and watches with mild satisfaction as the self-appointed casanova flusters a bit trying to grasp at the last shreds of his usual script of flirtation.

“You called?” he offers with a lopsided, and altogether too charming, smile.

Libra gestures to the mess on his pillow, “I take it this is your doing?”

Virion makes a soft, sad sound upon seeing his gift squashed and scattered, and while he plays the flirtatious, but suave, simpleton quite well, he is much more clever and calculating than anyone else gives him credit for. His expression smooths as he figures out what must have happened, and smiles sheepishly at his own foolishness. “I see,” he murmurs. “I should have guessed that you’d be weary at the end of the day. You do work so hard, after all.” He swallows, throat visibly bobbing, and his eyes flick from Libra’s face to his arms– bare in his sweat-damp shift. His cheeks flare bright pink and his eyes return resolutely to Libra’s impassive face.

He stares silently at the priest for a long stretch, eyes tracing the straight line of Libra’s nose, the curve of his mouth, the severe arch of his brow. It takes Libra clearing his throat to break him from his reverie, and his cheeks go even more ruddy at being caught.

“Did you come here for a reason, Virion?” Libra sighs, raising a hand to his brow to push aside a hank of hair, lank and greasy after a long day of hard labor. It’s a wonder Virion could still be so entranced by him, grimy and sweaty as he is. He only wishes he’d had the energy to bathe before coming to bed, because now he knows he’ll have to wash his bedding come morning.

Virion visibly flusters at the question, and Libra supposes he should find it funny that the usually unflappable skirt-chaser can’t seem to find his bearings around a humble priest. Well, he does find it a bit funny. But mostly he finds it exhausting. “I simply came to… to assist you in any way you need, good sir! To take upon myself some of your burdens, perhaps, to ease your pains of a day spent toiling away–”

Libra holds up a hand and Virion goes blessedly silent, biting his lip and averting his gaze to the canvas ceiling so he won’t get lost drooling over the priest’s biceps again.

“Virion,” Libra begins slowly. And perhaps he is being a bit cruel, but he has experienced similar infatuations from men who could not reconcile their attraction to another man before. The cruelest thing he’s done thus far is let this go on as long as it has. “Virion,” he says again, slowly, and Virion’s dark eyes meet his. “Truly, truly I am flattered. But this can’t continue.” He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “No amount of your swooning and fawning and likening me to any number of flowers is going to make me anything other than what I am. I am a man, Virion.”

He tries to keep his tone even and firm, but gentle. Virion talks a big game, but he is a poetic creature, soft at heart. Libra does not want to hurt him with his words, only–

The cot creaks and lists slightly as Virion takes a seat beside the priest. He looks straight ahead, his hands clasped neatly on his lap. He keeps his eyes downcast, his face unreadable for a long moment. When he finally speaks, he’s dropped his usual theatric bluster. When he speaks, his voice is soft and thoughtful. “I know this,” he says. “It may have taken some time, at first, to come to terms with it, but I do know this. And I have found, through much… self-reflection and study, that perhaps… Perhaps it isn’t something so terrible?”

Libra arches his brow sternly, though he knows Virion can’t see it, staring so intently at the dirt as he is, but he lets the tense silence speak for him.

“Ah! That isn’t– that is not what I mean!” Virion looks to him, eyes wide and frantic, and he reaches for Libra’s hands and clutches them desperately. “I only mean that I think, perhaps, that this is not something for me to… Oh, gods above,” he keens pitifully, “why must words fail me now of all times?” He takes a deep, steadying breath, and Libra allows him the time to gather himself, as well as the steadying grasp of his hands. “I have come to realize my thought process up to a point has been both stupid and… harmful. Both to myself and to you. I have been looking at this… at you, as… as something to get past, perhaps. As something of a… a flaw, to look beyond, rather than a facet of myself to come to terms with.”

Silence reigns again, for a while, and Virion turns to him fully, still clasping his hands. He pulls them to his chest, thumbs stroking along the calluses that mark years of wielding a hefty axe with ease born of familiarity. Libra feels his own cheeks flush a bit at the intimacy of the gesture, in spite of everything he’s told himself for the weeks leading up to this moment. He thanks Naga his skin is too dark to show it.

“I am attracted to men,” Virion says, and Libra isn’t sure he’s saying it more to him, or to himself. “It is something I have… perhaps not always known, but ignored nonetheless. Perhaps due to expectations from my family, or due to my own stubbornness. It just took… one particular man for me to see it.” He smiles, without guile or bravado. He looks rather scared, actually. A tad sweaty. Libra tilts his head.

“Are you attracted to men,” he presses, because if this is going the direction he thinks it is, he can’t help his traitorous heart wants to be sure. “Or are you attracted to me because I don’t look like a man?”

“You look like a man because you are a man,” Virion says firmly, squeezing Libra’s hands. “A very, very, very,” he swallows hard, “truly devastatingly attractive man.” His gaze lingers on Libra’s mouth for a moment, before snapping back up to his eyes. “I would like to court you properly,” he announces boldly, though his voice trembles a bit. “As one man does another!”

Libra can’t help but laugh at that, somewhere between amused and simply giddy. “You don’t have to do anything particularly different one way or the other. Just treat me the way you would anyone else, and I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

Virion’s entire face lights up, and he clutches Libra’s hands to his chest and leans in close to his face. “I would very much like to kiss you,” he says.

“A good start,” Libra says sagely, nodding. And then, because Virion seems to be struggling a bit with initiative, leans forward and brushes their lips together.

Virion nearly keels over, and when Libra wraps both arms firmly around his waist to keep him from toppling off the cot, he looks ready to swoon even more. His hands flail a bit, all affectations of poise and grace forgotten, and his hands go to Libra’s biceps to steady himself.

And then they squeeze. And squeeze again. And a flush crawls its way up his pale neck. “Perhaps,” he says thickly, like his tongue is suddenly to big for his mouth, “perhaps I just like… muscles.”

Libra cocks a brow and pulls Virion closer, and lets him indulge in petting and stroking his arms with a single-minded focus. “It would personally explain why you pursued Sully for so long, in spite of the risk.”

Virion laughs, startled and high-pitched, and Libra finds he quite likes Virion like this, off-balance and stripped of his dramatic posturing. Instead of answering, he leans in and kisses Libra again, still clutching his arms for dear life. Libra shifts his hands, holding him gently around the waist, and guides him through, careful not to overwhelm. Even so, it is hardly more than a minute before Virion is making soft, needy little noises into Libra’s mouth. Rather than pursue things further, he pulls away.

Virion whimpers at the loss.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Libra murmurs, pushing back a loose strand of Virion’s usually immaculate hair. He looks so ruffled, lips slick and flushed, eyes foggy and dazed, his striking cheekbones dusted pink. “I think it’s time both of us got some rest. Besides, I probably don’t smell very good.”

“I don’t mind,” Virion says, a little too quickly, and Libra pecks him on the lips.

“Still, we’ll have plenty of time tomorrow. Chrom’s given me the day off.” He grimaces. “Ordered me to take the day off, really.” He squeezes Virion’s waist. “Regardless, we can… continue where we left off once I’ve had some rest and a very, very long bath.” He smiles beatifically. “If you’d like.”

An out, if Virion wants it. But he just squeezes Libra’s shoulders and lets his palms run down the length of his arms. “I do like, very much.” He leans in, but instead of kissing, he just rests their foreheads together for a moment. “I will see you on the morrow, then. Rest well.”

He leaves, slowly and reluctantly, but not before he’s given Libra one last long, heartfelt kiss.

When Libra falls asleep, it is with a body that still aches from the day’s labors, but a lightness in his heart.

#pidge replies #pidge writes #fire emblem #fe: awakening #fire emblem libra #fire emblem virion #happy pride y'all #there is no heterosexual explanation for virion #fjkdshf sorry im super fuckin rusty but uh #here we are!!#im hoping to start doing prompts pretty regularly again #its hard to do while wearing an eyepatch #but i got this one out!#anonymous

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