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smallfandomflshFandom: The Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky
CharactersPairings: Olivier/Vander
Rating: 15/slash
Spoilers: moderate
other tags: lots of drunkenness and flirting and Olivier being Olivier
"I'll have you know, I consider myself the Chancellor Osborne of love," the Prince declared, sweeping his arm around theatrically and almost knocking over the entire bottle of sake. Mueller sighed. Olivert had already polished off two bottles and could barely stand up straight or get his eyes to line up. There really wasn't any way of getting the other bottle off him at this point, though, without a huge tantrum. Besides, he probably deserved it after having to sit through that ordeal of a meeting, "In fact, I see myself as the light side of his demonic charisma, the bringer of hope and joy where he inspires fear, the one who sets hearts free, where his iron heart is like a cage of..."
"It's okay to just admit you find Chancellor Osborne scary," Mueller told him, "It just confirms you're human."
"No, no, you don't understand," Mueller was hit by a waft of strongly alcoholic breath as the Prince lurched forwards, steadied himself by slumping against his aide and bodyguard's shoulder, then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially both rather loudly into Mueller's ear, "Like him, I also cannot surrender. Once I have my target in my sights..."
"No being creepy in public, Olivier," he sighed. Honestly, he thought, you do remind me of the Blood and Iron Chancellor - in so far as you need several people watching you at all times to rein in your extremes of temperament. Okay, so Rieveldt and Lechter probably had a harder time with talking Osborne out of starting any wars on purpose - at least Olivier only caused diplomatic incidents accidentally by trying to get in everyone's bed. And there was always that Bracer lady, if things got too rough, the one who still made Mueller blush after dealing with Olivier all day and one of the only three people in existence who could drink the Prince under the table. Trying that with Osborne would probably get everyone in the room killed.
"Seriously, though, I would travel across the world."
He drew a sharp intake of breath, then a long sigh, "Olivier, that's not even the definition of 'not surrendering', it's more like 'not letting anyone else get any peace'."
And then Mueller was looking down at Olivier's whistful face, his eyes wide, something oddly silent and alert about him. He hadn't meant to frown; had he genuinely scared the Prince?
"Vander... did... did you just ask me to surrender to you?"
"Did I... wait, how did you even get from what I said to that conclusion?"
"Oh, but you sounded so forceful and decisive, and it made my heart flutter so. I have never seen such a side of you, standing with such a look in your eyes, like the statue in Dreichels Plaza..."
Mueller continued blinking at him. Drunken Olivier logic could be hard to follow, sometimes, but if he genuinely thinks I look like Emperor Dreichels, he's going blind from that stuff he throws down his neck like it's water.
"You know, nobody has ever spoken to me like that before, with that fire in his eyes..."
"That's nice, don't you dare spill that all down me again."
"And you have... have a lot of responsibility, now, because there's no way an innocent young flower like me could resist..." Mueller choked back a snort of laughter at this description of himself, "... And now I've decided to surrender my heart to you, and you only, it's your job to keep me safe from those who would crush its delicate petals!"
"If you mean 'I wonder if the Chancellor is up to something incredibly dodgy?', then, yes, I agree, we should be trying to stay at least slightly low key," he said through bared teeth. Not that he really expected such a self-respecting man to be seen dead in the company of such embarrassing drunks, even to hatch one of his schemes. Still, he grabbed Olivier by the collar of his coat and announced, "Come on, it is getting late."
"He's carrying me off to his private..." Olivier loudly announced, before he was silenced by the force of Mueller dragging him out of the doorway, almost tearing his coat in the process. By now, everyone was looking at him but at least they'd made it out safely and nobody thought they were anything more unusual than the couple of fools they most likely were.
CharactersPairings: Olivier/Vander
Rating: 15/slash
Spoilers: moderate
other tags: lots of drunkenness and flirting and Olivier being Olivier
"I'll have you know, I consider myself the Chancellor Osborne of love," the Prince declared, sweeping his arm around theatrically and almost knocking over the entire bottle of sake. Mueller sighed. Olivert had already polished off two bottles and could barely stand up straight or get his eyes to line up. There really wasn't any way of getting the other bottle off him at this point, though, without a huge tantrum. Besides, he probably deserved it after having to sit through that ordeal of a meeting, "In fact, I see myself as the light side of his demonic charisma, the bringer of hope and joy where he inspires fear, the one who sets hearts free, where his iron heart is like a cage of..."
"It's okay to just admit you find Chancellor Osborne scary," Mueller told him, "It just confirms you're human."
"No, no, you don't understand," Mueller was hit by a waft of strongly alcoholic breath as the Prince lurched forwards, steadied himself by slumping against his aide and bodyguard's shoulder, then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially both rather loudly into Mueller's ear, "Like him, I also cannot surrender. Once I have my target in my sights..."
"No being creepy in public, Olivier," he sighed. Honestly, he thought, you do remind me of the Blood and Iron Chancellor - in so far as you need several people watching you at all times to rein in your extremes of temperament. Okay, so Rieveldt and Lechter probably had a harder time with talking Osborne out of starting any wars on purpose - at least Olivier only caused diplomatic incidents accidentally by trying to get in everyone's bed. And there was always that Bracer lady, if things got too rough, the one who still made Mueller blush after dealing with Olivier all day and one of the only three people in existence who could drink the Prince under the table. Trying that with Osborne would probably get everyone in the room killed.
"Seriously, though, I would travel across the world."
He drew a sharp intake of breath, then a long sigh, "Olivier, that's not even the definition of 'not surrendering', it's more like 'not letting anyone else get any peace'."
And then Mueller was looking down at Olivier's whistful face, his eyes wide, something oddly silent and alert about him. He hadn't meant to frown; had he genuinely scared the Prince?
"Vander... did... did you just ask me to surrender to you?"
"Did I... wait, how did you even get from what I said to that conclusion?"
"Oh, but you sounded so forceful and decisive, and it made my heart flutter so. I have never seen such a side of you, standing with such a look in your eyes, like the statue in Dreichels Plaza..."
Mueller continued blinking at him. Drunken Olivier logic could be hard to follow, sometimes, but if he genuinely thinks I look like Emperor Dreichels, he's going blind from that stuff he throws down his neck like it's water.
"You know, nobody has ever spoken to me like that before, with that fire in his eyes..."
"That's nice, don't you dare spill that all down me again."
"And you have... have a lot of responsibility, now, because there's no way an innocent young flower like me could resist..." Mueller choked back a snort of laughter at this description of himself, "... And now I've decided to surrender my heart to you, and you only, it's your job to keep me safe from those who would crush its delicate petals!"
"If you mean 'I wonder if the Chancellor is up to something incredibly dodgy?', then, yes, I agree, we should be trying to stay at least slightly low key," he said through bared teeth. Not that he really expected such a self-respecting man to be seen dead in the company of such embarrassing drunks, even to hatch one of his schemes. Still, he grabbed Olivier by the collar of his coat and announced, "Come on, it is getting late."
"He's carrying me off to his private..." Olivier loudly announced, before he was silenced by the force of Mueller dragging him out of the doorway, almost tearing his coat in the process. By now, everyone was looking at him but at least they'd made it out safely and nobody thought they were anything more unusual than the couple of fools they most likely were.
