[closed] back when we were kids

[thinkfirst]

Who: Flynn & Yuri
What: having a much-needed conversation they should have had a while ago
When: February 9th
Where: their house in Crenshaw

Content Warnings: Mentions of sad teen angst and sad teen fights and also maybe day-drinking, who knows what these boys got up to

Flynn leaves camp a little early that day.

His ride with Daisy was enough to clear his head a little, enough to get him through a day of working through strategies with the engineers over in the mechyard, but Flynn knows himself well enough by now to know that he's certainly distracted. His thoughts keep straying to Yuri and the flippancy in his voice, the insistence that he hadn't done anything with that time.

Flynn doesn't know, is the thing. He knows a little of what Yuri was up to in the Lower Quarter, knows about his actions and their consequences and the gossip that had chased after him in their wake (wasn't that your friend, Flynn?; those Lower Quarter brutes just need a firm hand; a hundred other phrases that had burrowed under his skin like termites, that Flynn had gritted his teeth and smiled through). He has no idea what Yuri felt about all those years. He doesn't even know how Yuri feels, really, about—

About everything. The way they left things, what felt like the end of their friendship, the ragged chasm between them that made Flynn question everything that they were. They've built a bridge over all of that, and it feels solid beneath Flynn's feet, but peeking over the edge is a terrifying thing, which of course means that they should probably just jump into it the way brave people do in the face of terror.

The conversation didn't start there, of course. It started somewhere so ridiculous, so—Yuri.

But Flynn is walking into it, bundled up with hearty greens and early potatoes, a few soft onions left over from the year before, and some hard cheese with an interesting profile that Yuri hadn't put on the list but that Flynn figured he might like. He could have used the lamps to come home and been there in an instant, but the walk through the oddly-sunny afternoon, buffeted by cold wind, has been helpful. He lingered a little in the market, talking to the vendors, learning about their business and their worries and the things they wanted changed. Now, with the sun just starting to sink below the jumbled roofs of Crenshaw, he finally shoves open their creaking little gate.

Their tiny patch of front garden is overgrown. Flynn thinks about his promise to Blue to plant seeds there, notes that he needs to get some seeds for them along with oil for the gate, and pushes open the door while Daisy vanishes into smoke and simply reappears on the other side, apparently impatient to get into the warmth.

"It was going to take two seconds," he tells her, grinning, and Daisy simply reappears, much smaller, and trots on delicate hooves into the kitchen to find Repede. Flynn shakes his head and shuts out the cold evening behind.

Comments

[thinkfirst]

This, Flynn thinks, hardly daring to breathe for fear of disturbing this moment, started with a sex joke.

It's an absurd thought to be having while Yuri is letting his head and all the things inside it rest on Flynn's shoulder. He can hardly remember the last time Yuri had really let Flynn take his weight: maybe after Jiri had died, maybe even earlier than that. Yuri is a solid pillar, most of the time, self-contained and self-reliant, deflecting concern and care in the same breath as everything else. Flynn loves him for his strength, but he loves Yuri more just for being Yuri, and he loves most of all being allowed to help this way, to hold all of that for just a moment, and let Yuri rest. All of that feeling, complex and swirling, is out there for Yuri to feel: Flynn's gratitude, his warm amusement, the depth of his love, true down to his bones.

Something sparks in him, and Flynn for once doesn't bite back his own impulse. He lets his hand slide up Yuri's arm to wrap around his back, pushes his other hand into the long fall of Yuri's hair to cup the back of his head. It's so soft. He could probably spend happy hours like this, wrapped around Yuri, petting his hair. Maybe Yuri will let him braid it sometime.

But first, Yuri's words, and the exhaustion radiating from him. Flynn pushes a kiss to the top of his head, feeling the movement of Yuri's breath and the solid warmth of his shoulders.

"I don't think," he says after a moment, quiet against Yuri's forehead, "you're a fuck-up. I don't think you ever were."

[vibing]

The care and love in Flynn's feelings, radiating out of him, and in his touch, are almost too much for him. He doesn't deserve this kind of love (why not? why don't you?), he doesn't want to take Flynn away from others (who? who does he want more than you?), he doesn't want to be a burden, to not be able to stand on his own two feet (sharing the weight isn't a burden, you shoulder Flynn's needs all the time, let him return the gesture). He doesn't like being touched, held, by most people. It's a thing about trust, a thing about people being too close, about his personal space, but he trusts Flynn, he trusts Flynn not to abuse it, he trusts Flynn to be here, he wants Flynn to be here, to be close to him. His fingers in Yuri's hair are really something else, and Yuri doesn't really want this to end. He doesn't have to have to keep having this conversation. He just wants to be able to stay like this without the world, or his own issues, invading.

But there they are, Flynn's words, reassuring and difficult at the same time. He knows he fucked up. He knows he wasted his life (if you hadn't spent those years in the lower quarter, could you have left with Estelle? what would have happened if you hadn't?). But if Flynn doesn't think he was, if Flynn can say those words with only feelings of love and gratitude and amusement, maybe Flynn believes that. And if Flynn believes that, does anyone else matter?

He takes a shuddering breath, and tries to pull himself back, but that voice in his head tells him not to. Tells him (be here with him), and Yuri listens. He listens because he doesn't actually want to leave. He doesn't want to leave. He wants to be here with Flynn. He wants to deserve Flynn's love. He wants to be the kind of person that Flynn is proud to have by his side.

Instead of pulling back, he wraps his arms around Flynn, holding him close, pressing his face into Flynn's throat, because he's here. He's here and he loves Yuri, and Yuri can't disbelieve all those feelings pouring out of Flynn. He can just trying to be someone worthy of them.

[thinkfirst]

Yuri's breath blooms warm and damp on Flynn's skin. He pushes another kiss, idly, to Yuri's temple, presses him closer still until he's basically taking all of Yuri's weight, relieving his feet for a moment. He can do this. Flynn has borne the weight of armor and responsibility and a changing world, keeping the peace between fractured factions as they actively worked against each other. Taking Yuri's weight for a moment is a joy compared to all of that.

For a while, they just stay there, wrapped around each other. Flynn lets himself sink into the tide of Yuri's feelings. Yuri's head is a warm and comfortable weight, and Flynn traces idle circles into the nape of his neck, full of warmth. Maybe his new power isn't such an awful thing, if it means they don't have to talk to understand each other in this moment. Yuri is trying desperately to prove himself, ostensibly to Flynn but Flynn thinks, also, to himself. Flynn isn't the only one with high standards.

He knows well the pain of falling short of them. Those three years apart were full of Flynn trying and failing and trying again, pushing himself up with aching muscles and bruised knees and gritted teeth, building up polite walls against constant needling. It was so hard. It would have been so much easier with Yuri there, but Flynn is starting to think that maybe they needed that time apart: maybe they needed to prove to themselves and each other that they could stand strong when neeeded, and choose each other instead of being tied by circumstance.

Flynn would choose Yuri over just about anything, he thinks, because he knows that choosing Yuri means choosing the things he believes in. Yuri makes him better and stronger. Yuri reminds him to take breaks, Yuri breaks and bends the rules to show Flynn they aren't immutable, Yuri cuts through to the heart of what's important with a searing kind of clarity that Flynn craves. Yuri hasn't slept with anyone else and still knows a bunch of sex jokes.

Which is absolutely not the right thought to be having but it makes Flynn snort anyway, a puff of amused laughter against Yuri's skin.

[vibing]

He's laughing. After all that, he's laughing. That's some shit that Yuri would do, it's some shit that Flynn would have done, years ago, before Yuri left the knights. For a moment, it's disconcerting and confusing, and then it lifts his spirits, and he can't help but laugh with him, squeezing him tighter for a moment as he huffs a laugh against his throat.

Could this be what they are? Could they be this close, and have it not end horribly? If Flynn can still love him, knowing everything he's done, then maybe, maybe, he can accept it. He can accept Flynn's truth, without questioning it. He trusts Flynn deeply, implicitly, and that means he has to accept that truth, and that makes him laugh more, fingers digging into Flynn's back, the solid mass of him holding Yuri up because he doesn't know if he can do it himself right now. He doesn't know if his legs will keep him here, but Flynn will, and Flynn will be there, on the other side of this, waking up before Yuri and whispering good morning to him before he disappears for his day. He'll be there.

Yuri finally pulls back, and punches Flynn in the gut, unless Flynn catches his hand. "Stop laughing."

[thinkfirst]

"It's not you," Flynn protests breathlessly, having not at all caught Yuri's hand and just taken the brunt of that punch. He isn't about to let Yuri get away with it, emotional moment or no, and after a second shoves his shoulder into Yuri's without a ton of force. Just a little tussle, just like when they were kids, tinged with laughter. Mutual laughter, he notices, which just makes him laugh more: Yuri doesn't sound like he's being dragged down under the weight of his own words anymore, and that's worth everything. "I just remembered why we started talking about this!"

[vibing]

"Oh, yeah," Yuri takes the shoulder with a grunt, and ducks back in to grapple with Flynn, trying to push him back toward the table. "Yeah, what was that again? Oh, right, that you didn't know what 69ing is, you prude."

This is so much easier than talking about his feelings. So, so much easier.

[thinkfirst]

"Prude!" Flynn manages to catch his elbows, keeping Yuri's weight a little further back so he doesn't slide quite as quickly in his socks across their floor. Yuri is definitely still pushing him, at least until he leans his own weight into the hold to try and pin Yuri to the counter instead. "It's not fair to call someone you're sleeping with a prude. Not with the things I've done."

[vibing]

Damn Flynn and his greater body mass. As soon as he starts pushing back, Yuri doesn't really stand a chance. They almost reach a stalemate in the middle of the kitchen, but Flynn is just that much stronger that he gets the upperhand. Yuri grunts, trying to push back, but he's slowly pushed back across the tiled floor under Flynn has him against the counter.

Breathless and grinning, he murmurs, "think it's really fair. You're a fucking prude unless we're in bed."

[thinkfirst]

He's such an asshole, and he knows it, and apparently Flynn likes it, which he's going to have to interrogate later. What is it about that little confident curve of Yuri's mouth, that breathless way he talks when he gets like this?

"This," Flynn says, out of nowhere, slotting one leg between Yuri's thighs to keep him pinned, "is why I thought you knew what you were doing."

[vibing]

"What, because I'm not afraid to say balls?" He snorts a laugh, but doesn't fight back. This is kind of hot, really. It's kind of hot when Flynn knows what he wants, even if he can't use the words.

[thinkfirst]

"Because you're so casual about it!" Flynn protests, half-laughing, half-embarrassed as he presses Yuri down, easy as anything. He likes Yuri like this, pinned under his bulk, his eyes bright and snapping. He likes that Yuri lets him do it, and that is something else entirely to think about, something to interrogate when he has the time, when they haven't just talked about so many deep-rooted things.

[vibing]

"What's there to be weird about? Come on, man," Yuri laughs, leaning back and letting Flynn into his space. It would be weird with anyone else, but with Flynn? With Flynn, he's happy to have him in his space, glad to share it because he trusts Flynn so incredibly much that letting him into his space is more like a relief than an intrusion.

[thinkfirst]

"I," Flynn starts, and snaps his mouth shut, his cheeks flaring pink. Yuri really is so casual about it, and once again, Flynn envies him that. There's an ease with which Yuri moves through the world that Flynn could never replicate. He's confident in his own beliefs, in the things he knows. He's confident even in this, and he's never done it before Flynn, which is something that Flynn really needs to spend more time with.

All that envy and respect is probably evident to Yuri right now, with Flynn so close, and he realizes that and huffs a bit, pressing Yuri's wrists behind him. "There's plenty to be weird about."