A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble. My friend and I had been talking about Yuri's outfit, and I started to write a little piece about Flynn being obsessed with Yuri's chest and it got away from me. Far, far away from me. I don't know what happened.
I'm making a few assumptions because I couldn't remember certain details that play into the story:
1. Ioder was informed about Yuri's murder of Ragou and Cumore (personally, I don't count Cumore as a murder—Yuri's only guilty of not saving him) and pardoned Yuri at the end of the game
2. Sodia did not find out about the murders until after Yuri was pardoned at the end of the game.
3. Yuri rents a room above The Comet. (My friend assures me that this is true, but I get lost when a character turns around in game, so I'm mentioning it here in case anyone else is like me.)
Written in 3rd person limited, switching back and forth from Flynn to Yuri's perspective on events.
Set post-game. Warnings for language, eventual spoilers for the incident at Zaude. Contains Fluri for sure, Ristelle if you like.
Disclaimer; The characters and settings in this story are borrowed from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
Flynn was certain Yuri did it on purpose.
Well, obviously he did it on purpose, but there was a purpose behind his reason for doing it, and that was what had Flynn so distracted.
One of the things that had him distracted, at least.
One of the things that irritated him.
Yuri was lounging against the wall next to the window, seemingly oblivious to Flynn's agitation. He was being quiet, for once, just standing there and watching the snow fall outside. His hair and clothes were damp with it after he'd scaled the wall to climb in through Flynn's window. Again.
Even from his seat at his desk, Flynn could feel the chill seeping in through the glass. He could barely focus on the paperwork he'd been trying to complete before Yuri had arrived, dusted with snow, chest heaving with exertion, and grinning that stupid, cocky, wonderful grin of his.
The part about Yuri's grin being wonderful was new and it worried Flynn a little.
Yuri had to be cold. People didn't just wander around dressed the way he was in the dead of winter. He didn't look cold, but he was standing right next to the window, had been out in the storm, wasn't even trying to warm up, and his goddamn shirt was unbuttoned.
Who went out in weather like this without at least buttoning his shirt? Yuri had to have a reason for it, though Flynn was at a loss as to what that reason might be. It couldn't be for comfort. It certainly wasn't for fashion. It wasn't carelessness, because Yuri wasn't careless. It wasn't simply him being self-destructive again either, because that at least always served some greater purpose. Even if it was sometimes illegal. Or foolish. Flynn wondered, absurdly, if Yuri did it for him.
He had to know how distracting it was. Every time Flynn caught a glimpse of him there was that pale expanse of (deceptively soft) skin, that casual exposure of Yuri's chest (strong chest, protecting a strong heart), those thin layers of fabric practically begging to be pushed aside, down his shoulders, out of the way for—
Flynn derailed that increasingly common train of thought with a sigh and rubbed a hand over his face. It was getting worse. Thoughts like those had never bothered him so much before, but now, after all they'd been through, after everything Yuri had said and done, after all their fights, after everything Yuri hadn't said, hadn't done, after Zaude…now, it was different, somehow.
Yuri was still just Yuri. He hadn't changed, really. In retrospect, Flynn could see the path he had chosen stretching straight back to their childhood together in the lower quarter. Yuri hadn't changed, but the way Flynn thought of him had.
"What's the matter? The great Flynn Scifo undone by some troop reassignment requests?"
Yuri had appeared beside him, one hand on Flynn's shoulder as he leaned over the desk, inspecting the papers, his damnable shirt hanging off his frame, exposing shadowy planes of muscle. Flynn caught himself reaching, turned the gesture into an attempt to snatch away the paper Yuri held, and wondered how, exactly, he was going to survive being in love with his best friend.
"Maybe you don't have anything better to do today, Yuri, but I do. I'm trying to work."
"You aren't trying very hard. You've been staring at the same page since I got here." Yuri's smirk crinkled the corners of his eyes, made them glitter, made Flynn fumble for an excuse.
"That's because you're distracting me." Oops. Probably not the best excuse.
"How? I'm not even doing anything."
"Your presence is distracting."
"Since when? You never seemed to have trouble ignoring me in the past." He was annoyed now, looking for an argument to vent his frustration. Fighting was almost always Yuri's approach to problem solving.
"If you don't have a reason to be here, then please leave."
"Why should I need a reason to visit you?"
"Yuri, you're wasting my time." He didn't mean that, he just needed more time to sort out his feelings, figure out how to convey them. He added, guiltily: "And you're acting like an idiot, running around like that and climbing the palace walls in a snowstorm. What are you going to do if you get sick?"
"I guess I'll just have to put up with you saying 'I told you so.' Jeez, Flynn, what's your problem today?"
You. And your chest. And the fact that I keep wanting to slip my hands inside your shirt and— "I'm just busy." Flynn sighed. It was the truth, but…. "Why don't you come back later this evening?"
"Can't. The whole gang's actually back in town. We're all meeting up at The Comet. I'd stopped in to see if you wanted to join us." He toyed with a paperweight, glanced at Flynn out of the corner of his eye.
The invitation left Flynn feeling ridiculously pleased. He hadn't been a part of the group that saved the world from the Adephagos and so really had no business being there…except Yuri wanted him to come. It had only been very recently that Yuri wanted to be around him at all. He supposed that no longer being a wanted criminal probably made it easier for his friend to enjoy his company. At some point, Flynn had forgiven him for what he'd done, though he would argue until the end of his days that Yuri had been in the wrong.
"I'd be happy to join you…after I finish my work." Flynn crossed to a wardrobe on the other side of the room and selected a long, deep blue wool coat, which he offered to Yuri. "Here, put this on when you go back out. I'll catch up later."
A dissatisfied expression flashed across Yuri's face, but he pulled on the coat and turned to the window.
"Don't even think about it, Yuri. I like that coat. You can leave like a normal human being for once."
Flynn waited until the door was shut and he could hear Yuri's footsteps receding down the hall before muttering under his breath: "And button up your shirt before I jump you."