“Your dress leaves much to be desired, Imperial,” Trell said, eyeing Forric up and down. The innkeeper’s back straightened the moment he said the word “Imperial.”

“And precisely who would be responsible for that, I wonder?” Forric retorted.

“Perhaps you should have volunteered to shop, if you were so concerned with modesty.”

“I’m not concerned with modesty.”

Trell looked down, towards where the tight clothes were bunched around Forric.

“No, I don’t suppose you should be all that concerned.” Without speaking anymore, Trell turned back towards the innkeeper and handed her back her quill and the sheet of parchment she had given him to sign. Then, he reached into a pocket on his jacket and pulled loose some gold.

She looked at it for a moment, then narrowed her eyes at him before taking his small pile of gold in her weepy old hands and shoving into a drawer on her desk with a force that shouldn’t have been possible for a woman of her particular frailty. She said nothing more, but looked at Trell with a stare that could rattle the most fortitudinous of Knights. Trell tried to stare back, to get some sort of measure from her, but she offered no quarter. It was after another moment of this eye contact that he decided that she was not, in fact, of any sort of wicked build, but rather was bordering on senile, and hadn’t noticed that he was staring back at her this whole time. He walked towards the stairs past Forric.

“So, you have it all covered then? The second room and all purchased? Byleth was getting worried,” Forric asked, following him up the surprisingly silent steps. Trell paused midstride.

“Second room?” he asked, back to Forric’s face.

“Yes, second room. Byleth wanted to sleep on his own. The two of us are to share a space. You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Well, it hardly matters. We can just go back down the stairs and talk to that dreadful woman again. She’ll give us another room. Though you’ll be the one sleeping in it. I’ll be next to Byleth. And, following that train of thought, you’ll be the one under her unsettling stare, since it will be your room, after all.”

Forric stared at him, unblinking, as if he was waiting for Trell to yell that he was only joking, and that he’d take responsibility for his own actions, and that he’d respect Byleth’s space. There was no such reaction. Trell stood where he was and refused to offer Forric even the dignity of turning to speak with him. Forric shook his head and took the last few steps back down to the lobby, though now, the space was empty. Devoid of any and all creepy old women. A chill ran down Forric’s spine. The space was dark now. The candle light had all been extinguished. Even those that were far across the room. The candles that he wasn’t certain he’d even have been able to blow out whilst sprinting in the time he and Trell had gone.

He turned back and rushed to catch back up to Trell, who was still walking with a lazy pace up the stairs.

“Trell,” he hissed. Trell turned back to him, his jacket swooshing along the way.

“What, Forric?”

“The woman. Is gone. All of the candles are out. There is no conceivable way she could have put them all out herself in that amount of time. I think--”

“Oh, shove it, you ninny. If she’s gone, she’s gone. Perhaps she went to bed and cast a spell to put them out. Did you think of that? You can sleep on the floor outside Byleth and I’s room. I’ll even give you a pillow.”

Trell’s boots allowed him to walk down the hallway once they reached the top of the stairs with very few concerns. Splinters wouldn’t dare try to pierce the thick leather hide. Forric tried to keep pace with him without snagging anything into his feet, though he wasn’t sure it was worth it.

“Trell, please. I feel odd. Perhaps Byleth is in danger!”

“Then I’ll protect him.” Trell paused in front of their room’s door. Forric stepped in front of him, blocking his access to the doorknob. “Out of the way, if you please.”

“We cannot put Byleth at risk like this. And, you don’t have the key. How do you plan on entering?” Trell raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, then stepped close enough that Forric instinctively stepped aside to avoid making any undesired contact. Trell knelt and slipped a small piece of metal from his pocket, then shoved it into the keyhole. After a few moments of twisting it, the lock popped, and he opened the door.

“I don’t need the key. I… Wait a moment, if you have the key, where, precisely, are you keeping it?” Trell stepped into the space and his expression immediately softened at the sight of Byleth gently breathing, belly-down on the bed. The way his nightclothes accentuated his… endowments (of most varieties) was a genuine kind of breathtaking, though the candlelight bathed his pale skin in an orange that he found a deep aesthetic appreciation for on top of his more… carnal desires.

Forric rolled his eyes at Trell’s question and raised his palm, the key inside.

“I’m not some savage,” he muttered. “And keep your voice down. Byleth is sleeping.”

Trell rolled his eyes back at him, but kept quiet. Byleth was sleeping, and he looked so lovely and peaceful, and Trell hardly wanted to be the one to wake him up. He took one last glance at him, then walked to the corner of the room and began to pull off his clothes. Forric sat down on the bed opposite of Byleth’s and sighed. He hadn’t realized how tired he was from all of the day’s excitement. The desire for sleep tugged at his legs and his sore eyes.

When he looked up, Trell’s member was out and on full display. It wasn’t anything to balk at, either, Forric thought, though he immediately purged the consideration from his mind. His skin was entirely bare as he bent over to pull his nightclothes loose from the bag he had purchased them in. Forric made a face, as if he’d tasted curdled milk, and quickly looked away.

“Perhaps next time you’d be so kind as to turn around to keep… it out of view?” Forric whispered, coming back to his feet and leaning over Byleth.

“Perhaps next time you’d be so kind as to mind your fucking eyes, Imperial,” Trell retorted, finally covering enough of himself up that Forric didn’t feel as though he was violated just by being in the same room.

Forric shook his head but neglected to say another word. He bent down to kiss Byleth’s forehead, and when he leaned back, he could swear he saw the sleeping Prince smiling.

That satisfied him enough to sit back down and settle on the bed while Trell cleaned himself up a bit in preparation for sleeping. Forric pulled the covers over his nearly-bare body, and stretched with a soft sigh. The kind of sigh that turned Trell over to face him absentmindedly before turning back to what he was doing. Finally, Trell blew out the candle and walked over to Byleth, intending on settling into the bed.

Byleth was fully splayed out, leaving absolutely no room for a partner. Trell examined his form for a moment, trying to determine a way for him to fit, but eventually, he caved and walked away, leaving Forric smirking.

“Forric. Where am I to sleep?” Trell hissed from the darkness. Forric stayed on his side and kept his eyes closed.

“You could always sleep on the floor. Wouldn’t that be comfortable?” Forric replied.

Trell ignored him, and in a few more breaths, the bed next to Forric bowed with the weight of another person. Forric sat up and turned over, finding himself immediately face to face with Trell, who leaned back in disgust. Forric immediately rolled back over, though this left Trell pressing up against his backside.

“You can’t sleep in this bed. I’m sleeping in this bed,” Forric whispered.

“Well I’m not sleeping on the floor. And I don’t have much faith that I’d be able to physically remove you from this bed even if I was dragging your corpse off of it, so I suppose you can live another day… Provided you don’t move much when you sleep.”

“We are not sharing a bed! I’ll even give you my pillow! Get off and on the floor!”

“Listen, I’m not exactly happy about this, either. This might be the most unfortunate sort of intimacy I’ve ever found myself in. But we’re here, and we’re sleeping like this. Unless you’d like to wake Byleth up and have him sleep on the floor?”

“No. We can endure like this for one night if it’s for his sake. But for my sake, would you kindly turn around so that your cock isn’t lined up with my arsehole?”

“You sound as if you’re actually enjoying it and hoping I’ll tell you I won’t move. First you look, now you’re touching it. Where has this obsession with my cock emerged from?”

“I have met you this afternoon, and now I have seen your cock and felt it pressed against me. I have faced enough trauma for one day. Spare the indignity of your sarcasm, if you’d please.”

Trell turned over so that their backs were to one another. From here, Forric could still see Byleth, which was enough for him to endure through the torture of feeling Trell so intimately close that he could smell him with every breath. If he was honest, it wasn’t the most repugnant odor anyone had ever made, though it certainly wasn’t good.

“My sarcasm keeps me alive and comfortable in uncomfortable situations. And trust me, Imperial, I’d sooner slit my own throat than penetrate you. I’m saving myself for someone else, anyhow.”

“I’m becoming more acutely aware that Byleth actually cares little for you and is merely using you for aid. Which I find highly reassuring. So you may as well find someone else to penetrate. Er, not me, of course, seeing as I’d rather take a knife up there than you, but you should extend your search elsewhere, I believe. Take it as friendly advice.”

“Your jealousy is showing. Byleth hasn’t told me to leave yet because he wants me here. He likes having me around. Certainly more than you. He’s tolerating you because he knows that if he told you to leave, you’d run right back and report to his parents his location. I suppose we could kill you, but I’d rather not subjugate Byleth to the death of someone he had to pretend to care about for so many years. It could be very traumatic, you know.”

“How anyone can stand you is beyond my understanding, Trell.”

“I hope you’re not a snorer. I may have no choice but to kill you if that’s the case.”

“I hope you’re not a cuddler. I may have no choice but to wring your neck if I find you groping while we sleep.”

Trell snorted, but didn’t say anything back.

It wasn’t as difficult to fall asleep as Forric thought. Having Byleth so close always made him rest easier. Knowing he was safe, even at the cost of sharing a bed with Ser Rolls-A-Lot was worth it.