A/N: I wrote this a while back for a prompt sent by Isumiilde on tumblr. Thank you! =D
Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
A furious storm had broken over Zaphias a little more than an hour before Yuri appeared at Flynn's window, a sodden mess of undimmed enthusiasm. Instead of waiting for the downpour to subside or seeking entrance through the palace gates, the damn fool had taken the weather as a challenge and scaled the tower. Tapping at the latched window, he wore the same grin Flynn remembered from back when they'd been boys tearing through the Lower Quarter, climbing trees and walls and discovering secret bases. Flynn let him in and stood back as Yuri clambered over the sill, dripping all over the floor. The cloak he'd been wearing shed rain like a waterfall as he slung it off his shoulders and hung it over a chair near the fireplace. He'd brought the cold and the damp in with him. It rolled off him, raising goosebumps along Flynn's arms. He'd have let in the harshest winter blizzard if it had carried Yuri with it, though.
"Welcome back," he said.
The wry quirk of his smile and the path of his gaze as it tracked over the puddles across the floor pointed Yuri's attention to the mess he'd made. There was only laughter in Yuri's eyes, though. He'd always been unrepentant about such things, no matter how often Flynn had been after him to keep their quarters tidy. Flynn had never thought he could miss that, even for a moment.
Yuri reached out, and Flynn clasped his hand readily, though a moment later he had to shove his friend away to avoid being dragged into in a soggy embrace. It didn't bother Yuri in the slightest, and he collapsed back onto the sofa with a squelch that made Flynn wince through his smile. Years ago, he thought he'd been through with Yuri dripping all over his floors. The old irritation stirred, but it was nothing compared to the joy of having Yuri back. It had been nearly a year since they'd last seen each other.
"Man, have I got some stories to tell you!" Flynn had never known gray to be a color of cheer except within the brightness of Yuri's eyes. "How are things here?"
Of course, by 'here' he meant the Lower Quarter, and Flynn felt his smile go crooked. "You came to see me first?" Again, he looked pointedly at the path of dark puddles leading from the window. "I'm touched."
"If it bothered you that much, you wouldn't have let me in."
There was a time when that might have been true, but that had been years ago. The old rift between them was long since mended and couldn't touch them. It didn't even dim their smiles.
"Since you're going to be dripping on my floor anyway, you might as well go take a bath and warm up."
Yuri side-eyed him. "Still giving me lectures on what's best for me?"
"Who said this is only for your benefit?"
Moving closer, he leaned down and kissed Yuri softly. That close, the smells of cold rain and wet wool couldn't mask the scents of earth and sweet grass, sweat and cooking spices. Flynn felt a shiver run up his spine. It took all he had to straighten up rather than straddle Yuri's lap and sink into the sweet familiarity of the kiss.
For just a moment, Yuri was lost to it as well. He remained still as Flynn moved back, heavy-lidded, caught up in that reminder of all they shared between them. He came out of his daze soon enough and, though his smile had gentled, his eyes burned like stars. Mouth gone dry, Flynn fought to maintain his resolve.
"Get moving before you freeze. I'll hang your clothes up to dry while you're drawing the bath."
He had to have one more kiss, though. Pushing aside sodden locks of hair, he pressed his lips to Yuri's forehead. He found himself held in place by the touch of Yuri's chilled fingers as they traced over his jaw and up past his ear. They carded through his hair and came to rest lightly curled around the back of his neck.
"Miss me?" Yuri asked.
He looked genuinely curious so far as Flynn could tell while falling into his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and he gave himself a mental shake to break free from the draw of Yuri's presence after so long apart. Give it a few hours, a day or two at most, and Yuri would remind him of exactly how exasperating he could be. Still, it was good to have him back.
"Always," was his soft reply.
Close as they were, he could practically feel Yuri's lips against his. Their breath mingled, warmth and sensation a hair's breadth from contact. For a long moment, he held himself on that edge, testing his will, savoring the anticipation, the feel of Yuri so very close. Flynn wanted him, then and there. He shivered, a combination of the strength of his desire and the chill still rolling off Yuri's body.
"Hey." Yuri kissed him briefly, teasingly. "You gonna let me up to run that bath?" The way he was toying with Flynn's hair suggested he wouldn't be disappointed should the answer be 'no.'
"I suppose I should." Flynn bumped their foreheads together. He let his eyes slide shut and drew a breath. Yuri's nose bumped his. A thought, the barest impulse and they would share another kiss. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to stop after just one more.
"Your idea, not mine."
"Mmm." He needed to pull away. They weren't going to make it to the bedroom, much less the bath the way things were going.
Flynn almost groaned as he stood up, returning Yuri's rueful smile with one of his own. His skin prickled at the loss of the heat that had sparked between them. It had been much, much too long.
He turned away from Yuri, away from the moment that had hung trapped in the amber firelight. The time they had together felt more precious than ever now that Yuri had joined a guild. Though Flynn received irregular letters posted from all across the world and sent his own more regular post to Brave Vesperia's headquarters, he couldn't deny that it was terribly lonely knowing he couldn't simply walk down to the Lower Quarter whenever he wanted to see his closest friend. They were both moving on with their lives, which was all well and good, but did it really have to feel like they were drifting apart?
"Hey, Flynn?"
"Yes?"
Looking back, he caught a brief glimpse of bare chest before being hit full in the face with the soaking mass of Yuri's shirt. Momentarily blinded, he was shoved to the side as Yuri dashed past with a laugh, racing for the bathroom and safety. Flynn was after him in an instant, slinging the shirt between both hands to get it wound tight. He whipped it at Yuri, catching him in the small of his back and making him jump. As he was readying a second strike, Yuri made the door to the bathroom and slammed it shut behind himself. Momentum carried Flynn into it with a solid thud, and he felt it shaking beneath Yuri's laughter as his friend leaned against it from the inside. Shaking his head, Flynn went to hang up his shirt near the fire, glad beyond words that some things never changed.
Out in his state room, Yuri's cloak was still dripping slowly and didn't seem likely to be dry for days. His shirt was in little better condition. He must have been swept in with the storm. Poor Repede, getting dragged through that with him. At least it was safe to assume that Yuri would have made sure to get him someplace warm and dry before sneaking into the palace.
As he stretched out Yuri's clothes over the backs of chairs, Flynn heard the faint sound of running water. It was an all clear signal that Yuri would no longer be blocking the door against retaliation. It also meant that Flynn was officially done working for the evening. He locked the door on the off chance that anyone might come by so late at night. On his way back into the bedroom, he shrugged out of his tunic. He took off his boots and belt and put them away, and tossed his shirt and socks in with the rest of his laundry.
Just outside the bathroom, he paused a moment with his hand on the knob. It had been so long since they'd seen each other. Would Yuri want privacy while he bathed?
"Hey, Flynn, what's the hold up? I'm starting to get lonesome!"
He smiled crookedly. Should have known better. Opening the door, he stepped barefoot onto the cool, tiled floor.
Yuri stood naked, leaning over the tub to stir the rising water with the tips of his fingers. His life with Brave Vesperia agreed with him. He was perhaps a bit leaner than last Flynn had seen him, but all of it was muscle. The skin across his nose, cheeks, and ears was red and, for a moment, Flynn thought he might be blushing. His arms and chest were the same, though, and the realization dawned that Yuri had recently gotten himself sunburned somewhere while citizens of the capital shivered through a damp and chilly start to autumn. There was a bar of herbal soap in the cabinet that ought to soothe the sting, and he went to pull it out as Yuri stepped into the tub.
Behind him was the slosh of water, the squeak of the taps as Yuri turned them off. The air was warm and slightly steamy. It made the room feel close, cozy. When he turned back around, Yuri was smiling at him.
"Bit overdressed, aren't you?"
"I see you still haven't mastered patience." He circled around to the other side of the tub, but Yuri wasn't discouraged. He twisted in his seat to watch as Flynn stripped himself bare and hung his pants over a towel rack.
"And you're still a neat freak. You getting in, or what?"
"In a minute."
He'd gotten a good look at Yuri's hair and the bits of debris caught in it. Tattered leaves and pieces of twigs and bark had gotten tangled up as he'd made his way through the storm. When Yuri sank back into the water and leaned against the back of the tub, Flynn knelt down behind him and gathered his hair. Carefully, he began picking things free, dropping them into a pile on the floor. Yuri hummed deep in his throat, a wordless sound of appreciation as he slid down far enough to rest the back of his head on the edge of the tub.
Yuri's hair was as thick with tangles as with rainwater. As gently as he could, Flynn worked the knots apart, finger-combing through the cold, slick locks. He'd long ago given up on really understanding why Yuri refused to cut his hair. It was just one of the odd things about him, one of the things that Flynn loved, for all that it baffled him. He worked his way up through the fall of Yuri's hair, freeing it of snarls and storm-tossed debris, and wondering as he went how Yuri of all people had the patience to deal with this sort of thing on a regular basis.
"I passed through Halure a little while back," Yuri said. His voice had taken on a low, almost gravelly tone of tired contentment. "Stayed with Estelle and Rita for a couple of days. She trimmed my hair for me."
"Lady Estellise did?"
A huff of laughter shook his shoulders. "Like I'd let Rita near me with a pair of scissors."
Flynn's fingers caught in a tangle, making Yuri flinch. He looked back over his shoulder to catch Flynn's eye.
"No pulling. Unless you're trying to start something."
"Not yet, I think." Flynn matched Yuri's smile until he settled once more against the wall of the tub. "How was your visit there?"
"Good. Rita's working on some amazing stuff. I don't know how she does it." Admiration in his voice, he shook his head. "Have you heard from them lately?"
"Not for about a month." Estellise sent letters much more frequently than Yuri did, and she lived near enough and was still tied in closely enough to the leadership of the Empire to visit more often, as well.
"She wrote another story. She told it to me while she cut my hair."
"What was this one about?"
"A sailor and a star."
They lapsed into silence again. Flynn was nearly finished with his task when Yuri spoke up.
"The water's gonna get cold if you don't hurry up and stop playing with my hair."
"I thought you liked this."
"I do. I also know you like hot baths."
He pulled one last leaf free and dropped it onto the pile. "All right. Done. Make some room."
Obligingly, Yuri slid forward, leaving space for Flynn to step into the tub behind him. Despite his warning, the water was in no danger of going cold anytime soon, and Flynn nearly yanked his foot back, surprised at the temperature.
"Going to get cold, huh?"
Yuri laughed softly as Flynn settled in behind him. "Eventually. I like really hot baths." He leaned forward a bit, wriggling his shoulders. "Wash my back?"
"I forgot how lazy you get in the tub," Flynn grumbled as he reached for the soap. "Can you at least move your hair out of the way?"
Reaching around, Yuri gathered the mass of his hair and twisted it over his shoulder. His back was kissed with sunburn as well. It must have been stinging relentlessly in the hot water, but Yuri had made no indication that he was uncomfortable. Flynn wet the soap and began running it over Yuri's skin, hoping it would help. It certainly wasn't hurting, given the way he sagged beneath Flynn's hands, humming appreciatively.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"Mmm. Want to switch when you're done?"
"That should be a given."
Once he'd worked up a lather, Flynn set the cake of soap aside. He worked it into Yuri's skin, massaging, feeling muscles slowly lose their stored tension beneath his hands. Yuri was groaning, practically melting at his touch. He probably hadn't taken a chance to stop and refresh between jobs in far too long. His letters had been more erratic than usual over the past year, and every one of them had mentioned how busy Brave Vesperia was becoming as the fledgling guild quickly made a name for itself. Yuri spoke of his guild with obvious pride. As much as Flynn missed having him close by, it was clear that Yuri had found his place. If ever there was anyone who was meant to travel the world, taking on all assignments, it was Yuri. He had too much life in him to be contained in the Lower Quarter forever. Flynn only wished he could return more often.
It wasn't until Flynn began rinsing off his back that Yuri spoke up again.
"Do you want to hear Estelle's story?"
"Do you want to tell it?"
He was quiet for a moment. Flynn watched the water cut channels through the thick lather and waited for his answer.
"I think this story was meant for us."
"Oh? By all means, then."
Taking a deep breath, Yuri began his retelling.
"There was a navy sailor, once upon a time, I suppose. He was a good man—strong, courageous, and he had a good heart. He had a lot of friends because of that, people that would stand by him no matter what because they trusted that he wouldn't steer them wrong.
"So, this sailor, he knew how to navigate by the stars, of course. All of them do. But this guy had a favorite star, a little one that sat in the middle of a constellation. It wasn't very important as far as navigating went, but he came to see it sort of like his moral compass. He would talk to it at night, tell it everything he'd been through, all his circumstances and the choices he had in front of him. Talking over it all made things clearer for him. He always said that his star helped him make the right decisions. Every night, rain or shine, he talked to his star. Even when he couldn't see it, he knew it was there. He told it everything."
Pausing a moment, Yuri tilted his head back, searching for the proper words.
"In this way, he shared himself with the star."
Flynn's scalp prickled. Wrapping his arms around Yuri, he puled him back against his chest. He began running the soap over Yuri's sunburned arms as the story continued.
"Everything was great for a long time. The sailor became first mate, and eventually captain of his own ship. He gained fame and support and loyalty. He shared parts of himself with the sailors under his command, parts with friends, and parts with lovers. He never held anything back from his star, though.
"But...sometimes stars fall." Flynn's fingers stilled on Yuri's arm as the words washed over him. "That's what happened to his. One night, it just plummeted right out of the sky."
Suddenly, Flynn knew where the story was going, why Yuri had said it was for the two of them. He could feel his hands trembling as he rinsed Yuri's right arm and began washing his left.
"Losing his star tore a hole in the sailor's heart. He barely ate or slept. He ordered his ship's course changed to the area over the horizon where the star had fallen. At every port where they put in for supplies, every time they met another ship on the sea, he asked for news of the fallen star, but nobody was able to tell him anything.
"His sailors followed orders. Their loyalty was strong enough that they didn't question him outright. They talked about it with each other, though. They whispered about how strange it was that their captain should be so concerned about something that wasn't even a part of their world."
Had people whispered about him back then? They must have. Sodia had argued outright against his constant searching, but, then, she hadn't wanted him out of bed after that wound he had taken in Yuri's place. During those awful days when he'd been trying to cope with the gaping hole left in his world, when he hadn't wanted to believe it even as the absence threatened to swallow him whole, Flynn hadn't had any attention to spare for concerns about his own well-being. He'd been driven to find Yuri, no matter what. It had been a week before he had been able to recall his responsibilities and, even then, he hadn't stopped searching, only forced himself to see to his duty before continuing.
He remembered the exhaustion. He remembered the feeling of being in shock, the emptiness inside him created from the clash of great loss and a refusal to accept that Yuri was gone.
Memories from back then hadn't haunted him for some time. He let the cake of soap slip from his fingers as he wrapped his arms around Yuri's chest and held him close. Burying his nose between the twist of Yuri's hair and the warm skin of his neck, Flynn breathed deep. Yuri still smelled of cold rain, and now herbal soap as well. It was a sharp, strange combination over the familiar scent of his skin, but Flynn knew him by touch and feel, knew how Yuri fit in his arms, knew the beat of his heart, knew the end he'd feared hadn't come to pass. Softly, gratefully, he kissed Yuri's neck. Fingers alit behind his ear, stirred his hair, comforted him. Yuri pressed on with the story.
"The sailor kept up the search to the very edge of the world they knew. As far from his home as he had ever been, he put into shore at a town overflowing with people. There were way more than could possibly have lived in the little port town, and he hoped that he'd finally be able to hear some news about his star.
"Turned out, everybody there knew about it. The falling star had been part of a prophesy foretelling the sinking of an island not far off the coast. The star's warning had given the island's residents enough time to leave for the mainland before an earthquake crumbled their home into the sea. Even knowing that, though, the people weren't grateful to the star for its sacrifice. It had served its purpose and wasn't important anymore as they went about rebuilding their lives. The sailor only stayed long enough to find out which direction he should sail in to find where it had fallen.
"He'd been told by the people of the port town that it was a hopeless quest. There was little more than open ocean where he was heading. It would have been a miracle if the star had fallen onto one of the tiny, scattered islands. The sailor didn't listen, not even when some of his men began begging him to call it off and go back home. He made it clear that anyone who no longer wished to follow him could stay in the town and wait to be collected on his way back. Something drove him on. He couldn't give up his search.
"They sailed on into unfamiliar waters. Almost half the crew had stayed behind, so they were pretty shorthanded. Days after leaving port, they got caught in a storm, the worst one they'd sailed through in years. It was a fight to stay afloat, the way the waves were tossing the ship around. He tried to rally their spirits. He wasn't the type to ever give up, but most of the crew figured they weren't going to make it.
"Then, up ahead, the sailor saw a single point of light in the darkness. He shouted orders above the roar of the storm. Somehow, they made it to where the fading light shone. There was a cove between the cliffs of a small, rocky island. It was sheltered from the storm, and they all breathed a sigh of relief. The sailor was happiest of all, though. He'd recognized the light and knew he'd found what he'd been searching for.
"He left the ship behind and set off across the beach. The light had faded completely out, but in the darkness, he met up with someone coming toward the shore. The sailor had only to look into the other man's eyes to see the last of his star's light."
Being brought together was nice, but the story wasn't over. Flynn shifted his embrace, molding himself more fully around Yuri. He let one hand brush over the top of his chest, tracing lightly across his collarbone. Yuri's skin was hot beneath his lips as he pressed kisses down his neck and along his shoulder. He must have been too distracting, because Yuri began squirming in his arms.
"Do you want me to finish the story?"
He looked up to meet Yuri's eyes. "Does it have a happy ending?"
"It ends the way Estelle told it. Switch with me. I'll wash your back while I finish."
With a sigh and one last squeeze, Flynn let go to do as Yuri had ordered. Water sloshed up over the sides of the tub as they both turned around, and soon enough, Yuri's soap-slick hands were rubbing over his back. Flynn rolled his shoulders and listened as the story continued.
"The star wasn't meant to live on earth. It had sacrificed itself to warn the people and burned out almost all its light in the fall. It told the sailor that it had been waiting for him, knowing that he would come seeking the pieces of his heart that he had been giving away over the years. The star thanked him for his love, and for all the wonderful stories he had told of the world. Those stories had given the star courage when it had come time to leave its home and fall alone to the earth. Getting to see such a big, amazing world up close, even just a little piece of it, even for only a short time had been exciting. It had used up the last of its own strength to guide the sailor through the storm. Its last task was to return the pieces of his heart so that he could be whole again."
Flynn smiled. "The sailor refused, didn't he?" He flinched when Yuri swatted his shoulder.
"Don't spoil the ending."
"He told the star that he'd be fine since he had part of its heart, instead, didn't he? I bet the sailor's heart was enough to replace the light the star had lost so that they could go see the world together." He smiled to himself, certain he was right about Estellise's ending. "I thought you didn't like romantic notions like that."
Yuri's hands stilled, then picked up rubbing circles over his back. "I don't like it when it's just empty nonsense. This one has truth in it."
"How much did she tell you?"
Could she have explained the sleepless nights and tasteless food? The knowledge that he had other people to look out for, but the undeniable need to search, to keep from losing hope? Flynn had never fought a harder battle in his life than he had to keep that hope alive as the weeks passed with no sign of Yuri. He didn't ever want to feel his hope decaying into denial again.
"Judy and Karol were there, too. They told me. Sorry to worry you." Slipping his arms around him for a hug, Yuri let Flynn take his hands and twine their fingers together. He rested his chin on Flynn's shoulder and knocked their heads lightly together. "Thanks for not giving up on me."
"Same to you." They'd supported each other plenty, over the years. He couldn't imagine his life without Yuri. "I'm glad you came back."
"I'll always come back." He held Flynn just a little tighter, one hand pressed over his heart. "This is home."