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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.

Hm. I'm starting to see that.

[ Starting being an operative term there; a placeholder for a different thought going unsaid about just how much effort Sylvain's put into tonight. The evidence of it is clear in the meal they're enjoying, the dimmed lighting around, and in the gifts resting safely to the side. All of it's more than Claude expected though he's not so sure why he hadn't. Not when as much as Sylvain wants to claim there's nothing there beneath that surface, there's several times that to show just how much there is.

But. Claude's also familiar enough by now with observing how quickly Sylvain will back away from being presented with that if even a trace of it appears, so he'll have to leave that unsaid in favor of reaching out to squeeze the other man's nearest hand again. Or he means to, but then he follows it up with lingering there paired with a serious look the other will likely recognize as yet another sign of mischief - even if Claude's using it to disguise another sentiment twined through it like it's merely for the going all out of it part. ]

That just means I'm roping you into any and all plans from now on, you know.

[ Sylvain gives a scandalized gasp at that, as if in horror, his free hand coming to clutch at his chest while he lets his other remain in Claude’s grasp. ]

What? You mean you haven’t been doing that already? I’m crushed!

[ That gets laughter from Claude, muffled as it is around his mouthful of food from continuing at finishing his plate which has him reaching for his napkin just in case. ]

Stealing my lines now, are you? I think that's one straight out of my playbook.

[ Right down to the gasp and everything, and though there's a mild attempt to sound equally scandalized by this revelation - as if they haven't traded methods back and forth in all these months - it's far from believable. So is the thinking expression he puts on after setting his napkin down and taking another bite in an echo of considering how (incredibly) good this meal is. ]

I suppose I could make a little more effort in including you. How about starting with another trip out into the dessert for some scorpions when I go tomorrow?

[ Now it’s a sound of disgust as he stabs his next bite of meat with his fork. ]

Nevermind, I changed my mind. You make terrible plans and I want no part in them.

[ Dramatic? Him? Never! ]

Oh? Does that mean I should cross strip chess off the list for tonight?

[ Never mind that it'd been a joint suggestion, or really Sylvain's in what might've been a passing comment now run with because he's just going to use that to tease with a wide grin at that dramatic display. Something he can appreciate in more ways than one, that Sylvain's always ready to play along with a bit of ridiculousness or fuel it further.

Claude takes yet another forkful of food to chew in faux thought like there's something deep and serious to mull over and he's not looking for another way to double down on it. ]

Noted, Gautier, noted. I'll make sure to apply that to any strip chess adjacent ones, too. Wouldn't want you to suffer any further at the hands of my bad ideas.

[ The smirk on his face really isn't smothered by continuing to eat like that's any sort of proclamation he's ever going to stick to. ]

[ There’s no way Claude would ever make that statement true, but Sylvain plays along anyway, indulging in the ridiculousness further. His fork is waved in Claude’s direction once more before he plucks up one of the little rolls he’d baked. And promptly lobbed at Claude’s head in “outraged” protest. ]

Strip chess was my idea, thanks. Clearly my plans are the far superior ones here. We should just use those from now on.

[ Quick reflexes come to save him as always since when Claude sees Sylvain pick up the roll, he's already lifting a hand. The action comes in time to deflect the roll up into the air rather than it hitting him, and he catches it easily on the descent with a grin. ]

Considering your plans involve pelting innocent bystanders with bread, I'm gonna have to disagree. What's next if I mention scorpions again, then you bring out a whole loaf? Or maybe start off with a baguette before escalating?

[ The options are truly endless! In the meantime, since Sylvain's helpfully served this one to him Claude's going to take advantage of that and split it in half before taking a bite. ]

[ Sylvain lets his jaw drop open, as if in disbelief at that audacity of that accusation. ]

I would never pelt an ‘innocent’ bystander.

You say that, but look what you just did!

[ Complete with waving the half of the roll in his hand around like he's brandishing something condemning and not some very well made bread he was happily eating right up until then, because this demands illustration. ]

I can't believe you'd slander me like this. I've been nothing but innocent this entire time, thank you very much.

[ Sylvain just gives him the driest, most deadpan look he can muster. Which, as he’s been friends with Felix all his life, is rather convincing. ]

Your bullshit gets more ridiculous with age, clearly.

[ There's a muffled feigned strangled noise around his next bite of bread like he just can't contain his outrage ("outrage") past chewing. Claude's going to twist that into having an entirely different meaning since Sylvain's left it open to happen. ]

How dare you! Calling me old and ridiculous in the same breath and on my birthday.

[ It's mostly intelligible, and since there's the other untouched half of the roll on his plate where he'd left it: time to pick it up and toss it back at Sylvain to hit either his chest or shoulder with a dull noise. ]

Now I really expect you to make it up to me with chess later. I think you've just earned every tactic I can think of for that one when you stop taking your time eating this incredible meal you've made.

[ Now Sylvain is the one to adopt the innocent look, even as he catches the half-eaten roll after it bounces once off his chest. ]

Which part are you objecting to? Being called old or ridiculous? Because they both sound accurate enough, especially since today’s your birthday.

[ Smugly, he takes a bite out of Claude’s former roll. Your loss, Claude. It’s his now. ]

[ Now Claude gasps, because he clearly hasn't made the sheer audacity of this impertinence clear like the (faux) insults and (feigned) blows to his ego will never end and he'll never recover. Obviously the only clear solution here is to continue escalating it as though that bite of the roll he'd willingly tossed is the final straw. ]

I see how it is. [ There's a theatrically wounded sigh for good measure because nothing in what he's about to say is going to be true, then - ] I'll just take this with me to where I can be properly appreciated, if you don't mind.

[ While talking he's already grabbing the platter of the pheasant and the sauce to go with it like he's actually about to take this to somewhere else in the loft to dine alone, and unless Sylvain stops him - well, here goes balancing both plus his wine glass with the air of someone who's perhaps carried a ridiculous amount of food for one person from a starting location to another and isn't worried about dropping any of it. ]

Also, when it comes to anyone being elderly here I'm pretty sure that's you since you're still older.

[ Maturity! ]

[ His hand comes out to snatch back the pheasant before the irritable birthday boy can make his escape, laughing the entire time. ]

Sit back down, I’m pretty sure the pheasant isn’t going to appreciate you properly even if you do steal him away to your bottomless cave of books.

[ Grinning, he leans back in his chair for a moment and taps a fingertip against his chin. ] Am I, though? Aren’t you from a couple years ahead of me? Are you sure you didn’t sneak past me?

[ It's with a deeply pained hmph that Claude sits down after being beckoned post supposed escape plan, like this is really deeply putting him in a difficult position to be asked (told) to stay. He might've pursued that act if it wasn't for Sylvain bringing up something else rather interesting, and he immediately holds up a finger like that won't do. ]

No, you definitely are. I'm only from a year ahead of you, and you're - [ pause for the math, now with the added complication of however it is time works here, and - ] I don't know, what, two years older than me? So that means even with everything here, you're still older.

[ Don't ask him to show his work on that - he can't. But it's said with enough confidence like that'll clearly make it true, and so Claude shrugs then holds up both hands palm to the ceiling as he sits back in his chair. ]

See? Still older.

Ahh, that’s right. You were one of the babies at the Officer’s Academy, weren't you?

[ He nods with a thoughtful hum, tapping a fingertip against his chin, as if that explains so much. And not as if he hadn’t just accused Claude of being too far on the opposite end of the spectrum. ]

But I still think you’re counting wrong somewhere, because you just turned 26 and so did I a month ago, so I’ve only got that on you at best now. I’m not sure a month counts a whole lot for ‘older’ anymore.

[ Claude doesn't rise to that bait, difficult as it is to ignore about now suddenly being too young when he knows - and he knows Sylvain knows damn well - there were others far younger than him there. Instead he shifts into a mock frown, one that only (playfully) grows deeper when the math is questioned because that just won't do. ]

So you're agreeing with me you are older and therefore what I said was correct? Great. Thanks, Gautier.

[ Just going to close that loophole quickly which he can, since while reaching for his wineglass Claude waves a hand in an unconcerned gesture. ]

A month still counts, if that's going to be your next protest, because: see what I just said.

[ Instead of protest, though, Sylvain just smirks at him as he props his chin in his palm and grins at him indulgently. ]

Of course, baby.

[ As if he wouldn’t have considered arguing any of that in the first place. And yet can still rib at him playfully with the pointed endearment now. ]

[ There's the smallest pause where his mind registers that, has to take a second to pull it apart because how exactly was that meant, then - never mind, it's obviously teasing related to the topic at hand, and Claude rolls his eyes in the biggest eyeroll he can possibly manage. ]

Save that for if Lysithea gets here where she'll now be far younger than either one of us.

[ Another joke's about to follow that, like how the Singularity might have a sense of humor and pull her from the future to mess with them both, but then he remembers, abruptly, everything she's told him. No, he's not going to tempt fate there. ]

Or anyone else, unless this is just you trying make yourself feel better about your elderly state.

Are you kidding me? I’m not stupid enough to call Lysithea anything of the sort. I happen to like breathing and my balls right where they are, thanks.

[ He lets his face twist into an expression of panic at the very idea of rousing the girl’s ire, especially directed at himself. But he’s quick to return to his smirk all the same, keeping his chin propped in his palm as he watches the expressions play across Claude’s face. ]

So I guess you’re gonna be stuck with the new nickname instead. Sorry, babe.

[ A snort of laughter leaves him at that one, if only because that Lysithea's prowess is well remembered sort of delights him (as it would her, if only she knew), and because that's far easier to focus on than the matter of any ... nicknames. Or whatever Sylvain would call if it if asked, and Claude's not going to ask to get pulled into that. Clearly the better option is to keep moving right along. ]

No? You should really give it a try. Promise it has absolutely no downsides and your balls will even remain attached.

[ Said cheerfully as he takes a drink and then picks up his fork again to finish what's on his plate, which is obviously what's important here. ]

Granted, you might still end up incinerated, but the important part of that is that you'll remain in one piece while it happens.

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