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I’m pretty sure that rule gets tossed out the window when it’s meant to be celebrating your birthday.

[ His tone is wry, but he doesn’t make any move to interrupt Claude or actually stop him. In fact, he leans back in his chair with an indulgent smile and a fond chuckle as he watches, shaking his head when Claude starts waving the serving knife around.

Carefully, he reaches out and rescues it once Claude is done serving up the roast fowl - not that he distrusts Claude with sharp pointy objects (mostly) but just to get it out of the way as he reaches for a large bowl of stir-fried vegetables, adding them to Claude’s plate along with the main course. ]

There, try that. And whatever else you want. I made plenty so you can sample whatever you like and I’m pretty sure we’ll still be enjoying leftovers for days.

Well, if you wanna go that route. I think it being my birthday means I get to decide the rules. I'm pretty sure that's how that works.

[ Even if it's not, it will be now just as the tone of his voice implies even as he's stripped of knife privilege. Something he doesn't protest since it's really all about the food at this moment in time, and Sylvain successfully distracts him anyway with the presence of more food on his plate from everything around. One of the options, anyway, since he eyes the remainder for a minute and goes for the pasta next. ]

That better mean I'm not gonna get judged for eating a plate of leftover pheasant in the middle of night since there's gonna be so many leftovers.

[ A better midnight snack than most of the things he rustles up, or at least a far less messy one than most of the ones he attempts to clean up before the evidence can be found in the morning by the kitchen's proper caretaker. It's not an empty threat, anyway, since after putting some noodles on his plate and then Sylvain's, Claude wastes no time in picking up his fork and knife to tackle the bird first to try a sizable bite. One that has him sitting back in his chair, actually quiet for once by something that's familiar just like the tea so thoughtfully created for him. Just as this was, really. ]

Gods. I don't know why you let me try to make anything around here when you're capable of this.

Have I ever judged you for your midnight snack binges? [ A pause, even as he shoots Claude an indulgent smile. ] Well, okay, I judge you when you make a mess in my kitchen for me to find the next morning, but otherwise you can snack all you like.

[ He watches Claude take that first bite with an intent look that definitely doesn’t show any of his nerves over it coming out okay, or as close as he could get to how Claude remembered the dish was supposed to taste.

Still, he can’t help but grin at the compliment, a faint flush creeping up the back of his neck in pleasure over the praise. ]

It tastes okay, then?

Do you really want to give me an opportunity to suddenly pretend like I'm choking on a bite because I'm supposedly lying to you and it's awful?

[ Dryly, because he knows that's exactly the opposite of what Sylvain wants. And while Claude's not going to tease him by doing that - probably - that's not going to spare the other man from knowing what he could've walked into with that question, even if Claude also knows what Sylvain's really asking here.

Which is why he does, at least, follow that up by taking another bite after reaching over to squeeze Sylvain's nearest hand. Politely, and with no tricks, because this meal is too good for delaying enjoying it for a second longer. Aside from talking, since, well. Sylvain won't be surprised if he continues on doing that at any point in time. ]

Also, your judgment is harsh! I can't help it that I like combining things creatively while looking for a new kind of snack. You're forgetting I share at least half of the time in there by the time morning rolls around.

Sometimes I think your ‘new snacks’ are almost as scary as Flayn’s attempts at cooking. Some things are just not meant to be combined, Claude.

[ The chiding is offered with fond humor, however, even as he turns his hand over to thread his fingers with Claude’s, even as he takes a bite from his own plate. He’s more pleased that Claude seemed to be enjoying it, rather than his own critical thoughts on what he could have done better. ]

Please don’t choke on your dinner. I might have to give up on cooking forever and then we’d both starve.

Hey, they are not! At least what I make is edible and that places it infinitely ahead of whatever Flayn made. Her cooking didn't get any better during the war, let me tell you.

[ Not that she hadn't tried which counted for a lot in Claude's book, though he (and everyone else) still appreciated the efforts of whoever was on kitchen duty to have her assist with tasks which didn't affect the outcome of the meal. Probably; he'll have to ask Hilda about that. The thought comes automatically as so many have before he remembers the reality right as fingers slide between his own, and Claude focuses on that and who's here in front of him rather than let it in with another grateful squeeze to Sylvain's hand. ]

How's this: don't give up on cooking, or I might actually cry. Again, now that I know about this, [ with a point of his fork to the desert bird, ] I think it might need to go into the rotation a little more often so I can also sing your praises for it more than just right now.

[ Sylvain just snickers at that, although he skips over the mention of the war, not wanting to bring that up here and now. Easier to focus on the present, he thinks, than all the shadows that still lurk in both of their pasts. He’d much prefer to keep Claude smiling and laughing tonight instead.

Grinning at the commentary about the dish he’d worked so hard on to replicate for the man, he can only chuckle as he swirls a bit of pasta around his fork with his other hand. ]

Fine, but next time, I’m sending you to hunt the giant pigeons.

Were they better or worse than the giant scorpions?

[ Claude's not even a little sorry for bringing up that memory, not even as he puts on a Very Pensive look while taking a bite of his own pasta. Something else to add to the list of incredible food Sylvain's made as confirmation there was nothing for the other man to worry about here, though that compliment can wait a bit in favor of (affectionately) annoying the other. ]

I mean, don't get me wrong. The scorpions weren't great, but at least they can't fly.

[ A beat, then a look crosses over his face which says if Sylvain's not about to interrupt him he's absolutely going to suggest going to find scorpions to see if that's true. ]

[ Oh no. He knows that look. And he definitely doesn’t want to know what spawned it this time.

Claude gets a fork emphatically jabbed in his general direction. ]

No. Whatever you just thought of. Nope. It’s not happening. I’m vetoing it.

But you haven't even heard what it is yet!

[ Claude looks absolutely aghast like that denial is a personal offense and not something he'd brought entirely on himself. Not aghast enough to not get another forkful of food or to commit to faux sulking - yet - but. Maybe close to it. ]

Besides, I think you would've liked this one. Think of it as doing a public service and also a little research all at the same time. A two for one deal's pretty good when it covers both of those.

No.

[ The word is just as succinct as the first time, but there’s a smirk playing around the corner of his lips now and laughter lurking deep in chocolate eyes. ]

I don’t need to hear what it is. I saw that expression on your face. I remember what happened the last time I let you talk me into something with that look on your face and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants to repeat that particular adventure. Stick to the research that involves the mountains of books you have in your room instead. You end up with far fewer new holes for me to fix that way.

Now I know I've spent too long around you when my only instinct after listening to that was to make a comment about holes.

[ Ruefully, like this is of great pain to him rather than something to entertain Sylvain as he dolefully takes another bite of food while considering this and how to further play it up for the other man's amusement as something else he never tires of doing. More like the rest of what was aid, really, because: there are numerous comments about holes to be made. Sylvain's just going to have to guess at which he'd say. Or rather, which he'd say first.

He's not going to linger on it too long considering he's been provided another opportunity for mild mischief, such as: ]

Is that you offering to accept the amount of books I have in my room? I knew you'd come around to seeing the value in them being there someday.

[ Sylvain breaks into a grin, quick and unrepentant, a hint of his dimple peeking out at one corner of his lips. ]

I’ve been such a bad influence. I’m so proud right now.

[ Popping a bite of pasta in his mouth, he chuckles as he props his cheek on his palm. And then rolls his eyes at the following comment. ]

Accepted? No. More like resigned myself. At least I can close the door and pretend I can forget what it looks like in there.

[ There's an amused snort from Claude when it comes to being proud since he's in the middle of taking another bite and, even though multiple comments to mind, enjoying the meal Sylvain's made still takes priority over that.

Until the book slander, anyway, at which point he scoffs playfully and reaches for his drink. ]

That's a bold statement for someone who comes to borrow those books just as often as ending up in there with them. [ Is he using his glass to hide a smile still likely visible thanks to the substantial amount of mirth on his face? Maybe. (Definitely.) ] I dunno, Gautier. Sounds a lot more like acceptance to me when you factor that in, too.

[ Sylvain just gives a dismayed sigh as he lets his head fall back against the back of the chair, letting his eyes roll upwards towards the rafters. ]

And he still believes I come in there for the books.

[ As for what that means? He knows. He absolutely knows, but when given a chance to insert a little (or a lot of) mischief into a situation, there's basically a zero percent chance Claude won't take it.

So even if Sylvain's not looking at him right then, having inserted his own dramatic flair into there first, that won't stop Claude from pausing with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth and immediately widening his eyes like he just can't believe what it is he's heard. ]

Oh? What else would it be?

[ Books, yes - that's definitely what they're taking about as he takes that bite and looks at Sylvain with an expression of innocence no one who resides - here, in the loft, Cadens, probably - would believe. ]

[ Sylvain’s head comes up and he just gives Claude the most knowing smirk he’s capable of. ]

If you don’t know what makes me come by now, we’re definitely doing something wrong.

[ That just gets a noise of consideration from Claude like he's giving this Deep Thought rather than being completely proud of himself he didn't actually break out into laughter like the extreme temptation to do so insisted. Something he's noticed not for the first time when it comes to Sylvain being all too good at getting past the guards he usually holds everyone else to and behind - or that the other man's long past made his way past them, really. Maybe he could blame it on that smirk, or maybe he could blame it on all those lines they've traded playfully - but the reality is it's something he's seen in Sylvain far past any of that in return.

Right now, though, he's committed to this round of teasing and though the innocent look fades slightly, he nods slowly afterwards. ]

You know, I think I have a book on that, too. Maybe I'll give you a prize if you can find it in with all the others.

[ The teasing smirk melts into an expression of scandalized shock in the blink of an eye. ]

Did you just admit to having illicit literature in your room, Claude von Riegan? Seteth would be so disappointed in you right now.

[ Alright, that almost gets him. Quick as ever, Claude disguises it in setting his fork down and suddenly sitting very upright while mirroring the look on the other man's face to match the shift. ]

Seteth disappointed in me? The Church's most devout believer? And after all I've done for them?

[ Here's a hand pressed to his chest in mock outrage, disbelief, and with a touch of (faux) tearful bafflement. ]

It's a good thing I've done so much penance since I know just how to fix this.

Oh?

[ His lips twitch as he props his chin in the palm of his hand and waves his fork in Claude’s direction. ]

And just what sort of penance have you done? Because you don’t seem very remorseful about this at all.

That's for me to know, and for you to find out. If you can find the book.

[ Because Sylvain's right: there's zero remorse here. Not for allegedly offending Seteth, or for illicit material, or - well, anything. That's why he follows this up with twirling the fork in his hand, all too pleased in feeling like he's found the upper hand in this would-be scheme. ]

Think it's the sort of thing that requires penance being done together, now that I think about it. Otherwise, how can we very faithfully report back to Seteth what to censor out of it?

I’ve never faithfully reported a thing to Seteth in my entire life and I don’t intend to start now.

[ He’s snickering at that equally-unremorseful confession as he goes back to taking a bite of the dinner. ]

But as you do look so attractive on your knees, I think I’ll go along with this plan anyway.

[ There's a flat look barely holding back amusement from Claude, and then - ]

You know, having to explain the joke of reporting it for the sole purpose of horrifying Seteth and nothing else really takes the humor out of it all.

[ Or, more accurately: it wasn't a good joke in the first place. Seteth's the last person he wants to think about in this lifetime or the next, however, and with newfound ire for the saint in question after some of those revelations in the pit now feels like as good of a time as any to continue blissfully forgetting about Seteth's existence.

Fortunately, Sylvain gives him an opportunity to do just that as he arches an eyebrow playfully. ]

First dinner, then strip chess, and then I'm on my knees? You really have planned out a full night here.

I’m pretty sure involving Seteth already took the humor out of it.

[ His tone is lighthearted and joking as he quips the words back. Although they ring a little too true all the same.

But his expression doesn’t dim, his grin still playful and teasing as he pops another bite of pheasant into his mouth, looking smug. ]

Hey, you can never accuse me of doing things halfway. Of course I went all out.

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