jellyfishy queen

TW: Dimitri/Claude, intimacy, mention of oral sex

Dimitri only looked at Claude again once he was completely undressed, except for his eye-patch – he didn’t want to subject Claude to that sight. Claude, facing away from him, was now down to just his white shirt and underwear. Dimitri watched, mesmerized, as Claude's shirt slipped slowly off his shoulders and joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

Claude’s back was as stunning as the rest of him. But there was something else that captured Dimitri’s full attention: a fresh scar. It started between Claude's shoulder blades, running down his back, growing wider as it curved to the left, disappearing beneath his underwear. The scar was dark red, the skin recently healed. Without thinking, Dimitri moved closer for a better look. Just then, Claude turned and gave him a very peculiar look, the kind that said he understood exactly what was on Dimitri's mind but chose to feign ignorance.

“Didn’t I tell you to lie down?” Claude said.

“What happened?” Dimitri asked. Before Claude could deflect, he added, “How did you get that scar?”

“I was shot down. In Gronder Field. Fell over a tree. But that was ages ago–”

“Who shot you?” Dimitri interrupted.

“Do you want me to give you names?” Claude replied with a sarcastic grin. “I don’t know. When I realized what was happening, I was more concerned with surviving the fall than identifying who was shooting at me.”

“So it could have been the Kingdom Army,” Dimitri pressed.

“Yes, Dimitri. Are you feeling terrible now? Why are we even talking about this?”

Dimitri ignored him. Instead he hooked his fingers on the waistband of Claude’s underwear and pulled it down slowly.

“Has no one ever taught you that you don’t undress someone while you are arguing with them?” Claude admonished, though he sounded vaguely amused.

“I am not arguing with you,” Dimitri replied simply, his eye still fixed on the place the scar disappeared beneath Claude's underwear. “I want to see it all. The scar.”

Claude sighed, sounding exhausted. “Go ahead.”

Dimitri pulled the garment down until it pooled around Claude’s ankles. He looked again at Claude’s left hip, and there it was, the river-like scar extending all the way to the middle of his thigh.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Yes. Dimitri… you really don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“...never mind.”

“Claude–”

“Honestly, you bringing this up now hurts more than any physical pain I might be feeling,” Claude spat with a bitterness that was so brutally genuine it took Dimitri aback. “I can't believe we're discussing this while naked. And I even sucked you off. I am really… hopeless.” He laughed though it sounded hollow, then crouched to pull up his underwear. He walked away, gathering his discarded clothes. “This was a mistake—”

Dimitri quickly crossed the distance between them and embraced Claude from behind. Claude's body went rigid, but he didn't resist.

“Let go, Dimitri,” he demanded coldly.

“I cannot. I cannot let you leave while you are so upset—”

“I am not upset.”

“You are. Whatever happened at Gronder Field was painful for you. I understand; it was painful for me too. And yet… we should have been fighting side by side.”

“That battle was a disaster of epic proportions. It’s not your fault... or mine. That’s just war, I guess,” Claude replied quietly.

“Regardless, I should still apologize for upsetting you,” Dimitri said, impulsively kissing the crook of Claude’s neck. He felt Claude shudder against him, so he did it again. Then, recalling what Claude had done to him earlier, he began to nibble gently on the skin.

“Damn, Dimitri…” Claude cursed, prompting Dimitri to stop, worried he had done something wrong. “Can you... be a little rougher?”