#casbert

(I certainly HOPE it’s not a typo bc YES GOOD. happy early Valentine’s Day here’s two idiots.)

4. Awkward kiss  28. First kiss 50. In Secret kiss

Hubert’s patience was wearing thin. 

Granted whenever Caspar was involved his patience ran out faster than with most. And currently Caspar was pacing before Hubert with an uncharacteristically troubled expression. 

It was baffling that Caspar had even found a private corner to drag Hubert to in the middle of the provisional camp the Black Eagle Strike Force had taken refuge in. With the attack on Garreg Mach approaching, the dilapidated building was a hive of activity. 

And now here Hubert stood, arms crossed, watching Caspar wring his hands and occasionally glace at Hubert nervously. Hubert was beginning to wonder if Caspar was about to ask to leave the army. Of all the Eagles, he expected this of Caspar the least. His father was on their side-- not to mention his half aunt and uncle. Hubert suspected this of Ferdinand or Dorothea, but never Caspar. 

“Unless you have something you’re actually ready to say,” Hubert prompted  when Caspar’s behavior did not change, “there are other matters that require my attention.”

“Wait!” Caspar stopped and thrust his fingers into his hair. “Just-- give me a second!”

“I have given you many. To the point, please.”

Caspar whined and resumed his pacing. Normally Hubert found Caspar’s energy to be almost endearing. But right now, as Hubert was the sole recipient of said energy, it was just plain irritating.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” Caspar muttered to himself. “I can. I’m gonna. This is me doing it. Here I go! I’m doing the thing!”

Hubert sighed as Caspar’s pacing changed direction abruptly and he headed for a few boxes in the corner. “Must I be here for this?” Hubert asked as Caspar pulled one box over. 

“Yes,” Caspar practically shouted. Hubert winced, not sure if he should hope the shout drew attention or not. An interruption might stop this madness. 

The box was dragged before Hubert. With a shaky grin that betrayed his nerves, Caspar climbed on top and stood. Hubert craned his neck slightly to meet his eye-- the box put Caspar only a few inches above Hubert.

“And what does this accomplish?” Hubert asked blandly. 

Caspar held him by the face with both hands, causing Hubert to tense. “Don’t kill me, okay?”

And then Caspar was kissing him.

Hubert felt his eyes grow wide. He half expected instinct to take over-- to shove Caspar away and possibly off the box entirely; or to pull his hands off and glare him into submission. But none of that happened. Hubert simply let himself be kissed, feeling ever so slightly silly for mistaking these sort of nerves for defection. 

When Caspar at last pulled away, he stared at Hubert for a few heartbeats, eyes slightly unfocused as if in a dream. Then his mouth stretched into a grin. “I did it,” he breathed. “I did it!” He jumped off the box and let out a relieved groan. “Wow, I feel so much better.”

“I-- Wait a moment!” Hubert had to grab Caspar by the wrist to stop him wandering off. “What was that?!”

“A kiss, duh.”

“I know that, but--”

“I’ve never seen your face this red before! Are you alright?”

Hubert put a hand to his mouth as if that would suppress the blush. “Why did you kiss me?” He ground out through his fingers. 

It didn’t help anything when Caspar’s cheeks turned pink too. “I figured, you know, I mean-- Not to say we don’t have a chance but we’re gonna attack the Church of Serios in a few days. I wanted to... fight without regrets?” He shrugged. “Figured you wouldn’t want me to do that in front of everyone.”

Hubert’s grip slackened. Caspar pulled his arm away but otherwise didn’t move. “You would regret if we died out there and you hadn’t kissed me.”

“Basically.”

“And the box was because?”

“You’re tall. You’re too tall, really. It’s unfair.”

“I see.” Hubert cleared his throat. “Is that all?”

“Um, I guess? I didn’t plan this far.” Caspar gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry. I’m kinda messing this up, huh?”

Hubert snorted. “Perhaps not as much as you might think.” Without giving Caspar time to respond, Hubert bent to kiss him. His was not as clumsy as Caspar’s kiss had been nor was Caspar as surprised as Hubert had been-- Caspar responded to the kiss almost instantly, even rising slightly on his toes to keep the contact.

Only the fact that they had already been gone a good while made Hubert step away. “Let us discuss this another time,” Hubert said, unable to hold back a smile when Caspar grinned up at him. “Tonight?”

“Yeah!” Caspar’s grin became impossibly brighter. “Sounds good! I’ll see you tonight!” With a quick kiss to Hubert’s cheek, he sped off, no doubt to report to Linhardt or someone similar. 

Well. Another thing for Hubert to add to his ever growing list of things to keep track of. As he turned to head back to Lady Edelgard, he spotted the box Caspar had stood on mere minutes ago. The blush returned to his face. 

Perhaps a few moments to himself were in order before he sought out anyone. 

(yay more for these two!! It’s been so long!)

Blood dripped steadily from Caspar’s head as he limped across the battlefield. Once he was sure the northern fort was secure, he had taken off west towards where a bulk of the fighting had moved. But, though no one could handle more than two punches of his gantlets, Caspar had been mobbed more than once on his way over. And now he was nearly at bigger fight with a busted knee, twisted ankle, numb wrist, and possibly more than one head injury.

What a big help he’d be.

Caspar groaned as the telltale crunch of dirt under boot reached his ears. Sure enough, around the next bend was a trio of swordsmen. Two had silver swords, but one, who was more scarred than the others, heaved a venin edge that pulsed violet. 

Trying to lean on the thrill of the fight and the drive to survive, Caspar put up his fists and ran forward with a shout. A voice in the back of his head, which sounded a lot like the Professor, said he could probably take out the venin edge guy before it could poison him. Caspar’s leg had other plans. He got a good hit to the guy’s stomach but his leg gave out when he dodged to the side. Sprawled on the ground, watching the swordsmen advance, Caspar tried to remember if he had any antitoxin in his belt. And whether he’d be alive enough to use it in a moment.

Something bright and malicious struck the venin edge guy in the back and he collapsed. His friends staggered and turned to face the new target. Caspar took the opportunity to sit up.

Hubert was already gathering energy for another spell. He smoothly step-sided one swordsmen and spun to avoid the other. Caspar struggled to stand just as Hubert let loose a powerful Banshee attack right in one man’s chest. With a whoop of victory, Caspar charged the remaining enemy. 

Only for a fire spell to whiz over his head and take the guy out first.

“Aw, come on!” Caspar began as he turned to Hubert, who was crouching over the first guy and taking the venin edge from his belt. “I coulda taken him!”

“You’re hurt.”

“I mean, yeah, but I can take one guy.” 

Hubert scoffed and tied the sword to his own belt. “Come here. Let me heal you.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Caspar took a few steps back. “I know you don’t have many of those. You should save them for real trouble.”

“You are real trouble in every sense of the word.” They were interrupted by an enemy soldier bursting from the treeline, brandishing a mace. Caspar put himself between Hubert and the danger but evidently his head wounds were catching up to him; the world spun spectacularly and the sickly green of Hubert’s Mire spell from behind didn’t help.

An arm caught Caspar around the shoulders, lowering him to the ground. Caspar protested weakly as the undeniable feeling of healing magic wound around him. “Why must you act this way?” Hubert scolded.

The scent of blood was gradually fading. Caspar swallowed. “I’m strong. I’m useful. I don’t want this army... I don’t want you to think I’m some-- some soft dork.”

A chuckle made Caspar look up. Hubert pressed their foreheads together, one hand still against Caspar’s chest where an axe had sliced him earlier. “But I like it when you’re a soft dork. You can be that and strong. I shall think no less of you for it.”

Caspar could only say, “Oh.”

Hubert pulled away to press a kiss to his forehead. “That should hold you for now. Let us make our way to the western stronghold.”

Indeed, Caspar was able to get to his feet without issue. He cracked his knuckles, grabbed an amused Hubert by the hand, and led the charge west.