Title: Just Needed a Small Push

Summary: Bertrand can't take it anymore. If he had to spend one more day watching those two idiots dance around their feelings for each other, he was going to go mad! If Flavio can't stutter out his feelings for Fafnir, Bertrand was going to speak for him. Whether he wanted him to or not.

Pairings: Fafnir/Flavio

Prompt: 73. I Can't

Words: 1,571

AN: Just trying to distract myself from my responsibilities. Hope you'll enjoy reading!


Bertrand was an old man. He had been around for over a hundred years. He had encountered and experienced many a sight. Some irritating. Some heartbreaking. Some amusing. Some downright frustrating. He had grown detached, dismissive. He could handle just about anything and anyone with a flippant and disconnected attitude. Life and experience had taught him that it was better to be on the sidelines watching than in the middle of all the drama.

He didn't always succeed, mind. But he tried his best.

There was one thing that was starting to really grate on his nerves, however; Fafnir and Flavio, and their obvious feelings for one another.

Truthfully, Bertrand had initially thought that they were married in secret; all the soft accidental touches, the glances from across the room, knowing what the other was thinking without a word being said.

Imagine his surprise when he realised that, no, they weren't married. They weren't even dating. They were just friends. Friends. They both insisted (with blushes, mind you) that they were just friends. No romantic notions. Just best friends.

Bertrand could barely believe it. There were some married couples that don't act as sickly domesticated and 'fluffy' as they do.

At the beginning, it had been amusing, but as days stretched out, it became frustrating. Their mutual pining was becoming almost hysterically obvious. There were some days where Bertrand had to stop himself, fight with every inch of his own strength not to push the two together and demand that they get their damn acts together and confess their undying and unconditional love for each other. For heaven's sake, it was getting ridiculous.

Today was a prime illustration of the domesticated nonsense that Bertrand had to put up with all the time.

From the time they got up, the two 'friends' were courting each other. At daylight, Flavio entered Fafnir's room to get him up out of bed, pushing the still bleary-eyed swordsman out of his room and down the stairs. Then at breakfast, Fafnir had a bit of his food on his cheek and without rhyme or reason, Flavio leaned across with a napkin and cleaned him up, chiding him for being messy.

Was it any surprise that he had thought they were married?

And then the labyrinth, god, the labyrinth was prime location for all the affection to reveal itself. The way Flavio stuck closer to Fafnir's side in order to 'watch his back'. The way Fafnir would fight to his fullest ability when he knew that Flavio had his back. The way Fafnir would become furious whenever a monster managed to get past and land an attack on Flavio. The way Fafnir would immediately share any edible fruit they would find with Flavio first.

Don't get him started on all of the touching between them. Flavio's arm around Fafnir's shoulders. Fafnir's arm around Flavio's waist. The celebratory hugs when they defeated a FOE. The poking for attention. The random pats on the back. The reaching out a hand to steady the other even when the other wasn't unsteady on their feet.

The looks. The whispers. The silent conversations through their eyes alone.

Why couldn't they see it themselves? Were they blind?

What about when Fafnir had helped them through the narrow shortcut and subconsciously pulled Flavio closer toward him than he had done with anyone else? Closer as in against his chest. Hand resting on the small of Flavio's back. Flavio's hands on his shoulders. A smile and a thanks before they parted.

Every. Single. Time.

And whenever Fafnir was speaking with Arianna, his gaze would often wander to where Flavio was, seemingly unaware that Flavio was watching him in return with a slight pout of jealousy on his lips. How Fafnir managed to keep pace with one conversation while his mind and intentions were elsewhere, Bertrand didn't know.

Bertrand had reached his breaking point when some uneducated person made the comment that Fafnir and Arianna would make a cute couple. That, of course, prompted Flavio to become unnervingly quiet and sombre. Even when Fafnir denied it as politely, but anxiously as possible, Flavio simply smiled that infuriatingly polite and fake smile of his and nodded his head. He was hurt, though. His eyes couldn't hide it.

All this lack of communication was really starting to do Bertrand's head in. It just wasn't necessary. They have enough going on without the nonsense of mutual belief of unrequited love. Something needed to be done. And quickly. For his sanity's sake.

All they really needed was a small push. Or a hard shove into a locked closet. Whatever needed to be done.

As everyone departed to head to their rooms at the inn for the night, Bertrand pulled Flavio aside and took him by the shoulders. He looked straight into his eyes and sternly issued him with an ultimatum. "You have until tomorrow morning to tell Fafnir your undying love for him or I, I swear to god, will do it for you."

Flavio immediately gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing like some kind of a stunned fish. He then abruptly blushed darkly and appeared as if he so desperately wanted to refute him, deny his words. That was what he did; deny himself of his own thoughts and needs in order to cater to everyone else's.

Instead, rather surprisingly and unexpectedly, he turned meek. "I can't…" he whispered.

"If you don't, I will," Bertrand reiterated.

Flavio grew pale when he realised that he meant it. "You wouldn't?"

"Oh, I would," Bertrand replied, almost threateningly. "And I would be as embarrassing as possible."

"W-we're just friends," Flavio spluttered in reply. "He doesn't…"

Bertrand gave him a look that was pure, unadulterated scepticism. Really? Did he really believe that? "Tomorrow. Morning."

Flavio stared at him for the longest, most unnervingly silent moment. "…You're serious, aren't you?" he whispered.

Bertrand levelled him with the most serious look he could muster. "Very."

He removed his hold on Flavio's shoulders and took a step back, folding his arms across his chest. He did feel a small sense of remorse at the panicky look on Flavio's face, seemingly on the verge of an anxiety attack. But the survivalist would be thanking him later, he was sure of it.

Hunching his shoulders in defeat, Flavio made his way toward Fafnir's room at the in. He drew in a deep breath before knocking lightly on the door. "F-Fafnir?"

The door, of course, immediately opened and Fafnir stood there with a look of surprise and concern of his face, expressions he only ever showed openly around Flavio.

Flavio fidgeted on his feet and Bertrand had to resist the urge to shove him into Fafnir's room and hold the door shut, virtually locking the two inside.

"Can we talk?" he finally requested.

"Sure," Fafnir said as he stood to the side and motion for Flavio to enter, keeping his gaze on the survivalist the entire time before shutting the door behind him.

Bertrand breathed a sigh that was of both frustration and relief before making his way to his room. He got himself ready for bed, but didn't climb under the covers. Instead he sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

And waited.

Quite a few minutes had passed and Flavio hadn't stormed into his room with tears in his eyes and tried to take his head off with an arrow, so things must have worked out for him.

As if they wouldn't.

He was still curious, though. So Bertrand pushed himself off the bed and wandered out into the hallway. He ventured over to Fafnir's door and paused to listen. He couldn't hear anything inside, though, and he felt a frown tug on his lips. Placing his hand on the doorhandle, he found the door was unlocked. His curiosity getting the best of him, he slowly turned the handle and opened the door enough for him to peek inside.

He wasn't surprised by what he saw. In fact, he could say that he was relieved.

Standing in the middle of the room were the two and they were holding each other tightly. Flavio's arms were around Fafnir's neck and his face was against his shoulder. And Fafnir had his arms wound tightly around Flavio's small waist, his chin resting against Flavio's hair. They were whispering softly to each other, although Bertrand couldn't make out the exact words. He did hear 'don't leave' and something about not having to hold back or hide anymore.

Seemed as though Flavio actually did it. Finally. See? All he needed was a small push. And a threat of embarrassment.

While readjusting his hold on Flavio, Fafnir noticed him and immediately made a slight 'shooing' motion with his hand while continuing to keep Flavio as close to him as possible. Bertrand barely suppressed a snort. He obliged, though, and closed the door as silently as he could.

"You can thank me later," Bertrand muttered as he headed to his room.

He knew that he had opened up a whole new kettle of fish, prompting the two to be more 'lovey-dovey' toward each other. But, hey, it was marginally better than all that shimmering tension from the 'unrequited' feelings and silent jealousy.

The best part was that they both owed him for it. And that was a debt that was going to be difficult to repay. He'd make sure of it.