A/N: This one got backburnered for a while, but I finally finished it. Yay! I borrowed a prompt from imagine your OTP for this story—the shower bit, to be precise. The unabridged version is up in my journal. There's not as big a difference as you might think.

I borrowed a character from Graces, the game my friend first turned to in order to fill the hole in her heart Vesperia had left. That didn't work out too well, but at least it provided me with a filler character.

Also, one guess as to who owns the club Yuri mentions. =D

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

On his way home from the drugstore, Flynn looked down at the little bag on the seat next to him and couldn't hold back a smile. He was getting excited.

Almost two months ago, he and Yuri had started going out. Very little had changed between them, at first. Yuri was still busy with work and school except on the weekends, Flynn still spent every Sunday visiting his mother, there were still days when they missed each other entirely due to their schedules, and they still argued and fought and Yuri still cheated when they played games.

Still, little things had changed between them. When they sat together on the couch watching TV, Flynn sat a little closer and no longer had to suppress the urge to take Yuri's hand in his or wrap an arm around his shoulders. Back when they were kids, Yuri used to lean up against him sometimes, playfully. He'd stopped as they grew into their teenage years, when such gestures could more easily be misconstrued, but he had started doing that again, his warmth lingering all along Flynn's side. More than once, he had dozed off like that, his head resting on Flynn's shoulder and, not having the heart to move him, Flynn had slept with him there on the couch.

Then there were the kisses. Yuri did it first, only a couple days after Flynn's confession, flinging an arm around his neck one morning to drag him close for a quick peck before dashing out the door. It had left Flynn distracted all day, enough that Estelle and Sodia both questioned him about it after the classes he had with them. He had kept quiet about the reason for his daydreaming, not sure if Yuri wanted to make the change in their relationship public.

He had done it again the next evening. Coming out of the kitchen with plates of hamburgers and homemade fries, Yuri had handed Flynn his dinner and leaned in to kiss his cheek as he sat down. Flynn looked back and forth from the burger to Yuri's smirk.

"That's hardly fair," he said, referring to the choice he'd been given.

"Eat," Yuri said, digging into his own dinner. "The food'll get cold. I'll keep."

Flynn took the advice but the idea of making out right after eating hadn't really appealed to him. They wound up taking their plates into the kitchen and making quiet conversation as they washed the dishes side by side. Once Yuri's kitchen was back up to his exacting standards, they had made their way back to the couch where they fought over the remote until Yuri ended the scuffle by kissing Flynn full on the mouth. Suddenly, Flynn couldn't care less about what was on TV. Yuri had still tasted like ketchup and Worcestershire, but it hadn't bothered him as much as he'd expected. He'd pressed Yuri down onto the couch and forgot about the world for a while.

After that, it had become like a game for Yuri, though Flynn never did figure out quite what the goal was. Yuri would kiss him out of the blue; sometimes as one of them was leaving, sometimes right before Flynn was getting ready to take a shower or work on a paper, sometimes when they were doing nothing at all. Every time, he watched Flynn for his response, grinning mischievously when Flynn had to tear himself away to work, but always perfectly eager when there was time for just the two of them.

One night, things had gotten a little more heated between them than usual as they made out on Flynn's bed. Yuri had been leaning up against the headboard as Flynn knelt over him, hands running through Yuri's hair, over his shoulders, down his body. Yuri had been no less eager, but then he had slipped his hands underneath Flynn's t-shirt and things had started getting a little more intense. That evening, rather than letting Yuri go so that they could each take care of their growing little problems themselves, Flynn had let his hands wander down to the waistline of Yuri's jeans, fingers resting lightly over the button. He had pulled back enough to get a good look at Yuri's face. Flushed and a little dazed, the look in Yuri's dark eyes had made Flynn's heart skip a beat. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, suddenly nervous.

"Can I?"

He hadn't been sure himself if he could. It seemed like a big step, even though all he was offering was to touch Yuri. It was the natural progression, right? He wanted Yuri, wanted to be with him, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. They would have gotten to this eventually. If he was moving too fast, Yuri would tell him. Right?

Yuri's laugh startled him at first, made him think perhaps he'd been stupid to ask. He flicked Flynn's forehead, but the smile he offered was easy and reassuring.

"Quit thinking so much. It's giving me a headache."

"I just wanted to be sure."

"I know. It's okay. Want me to do it for you, too?"

Flynn hadn't understood how Yuri could be so comfortable. He hadn't ever even dated anyone before, but he reached to undo the front of Flynn's slacks like it was nothing. As he watched, Flynn noted that Yuri's hands, usually graceful, were fumbling with the button. His fingers were trembling.

Not sure what else to do, Flynn had pulled him close and kissed him. Even with his own bout of nerves, even knowing it was probably impossible, he hadn't wanted Yuri to be anxious at all. Everything else between them came so naturally, but then, they'd had years together as friends. Maybe with time, intimacy of that sort would become just as effortless, but that night it had still been new. They'd never even seen each other naked before.

So, Flynn had tried to pull Yuri's attention back to something they knew, something they'd gotten the hang of. It hadn't worked very well. Yuri had always been contrary, always the most likely to push ahead when he was scared because doing otherwise would be like admitting defeat. He did that then, kissing Flynn hungrily while his hands fiddled incessantly with Flynn's pants until the fabric finally parted.

It had been a little strange at first, but it felt so good, better than doing it himself even though Yuri hadn't learned how he liked to be touched yet. Flynn remembered thinking that if just getting a hand job felt like that, then sex would be amazing.

The next day, Flynn had gone online and started researching. He avoided actual videos, unable to shake the guilty feeling that watching would somehow constitute cheating, but he looked up information on the ins and outs, as it were. He'd spent a couple of weeks comparing sources and double checking certain hints and tips until he was sure he would know what he was doing when the time came. The only thing missing had been some of the actual, physical preparations, and they now sat in a little drugstore bag on the passenger seat beside him. Pulling into a parking space, he glanced down once more at his purchase, and felt an anticipatory fluttering in his stomach. He wasn't sure when it was going to happen, but one of these nights, soon, he and Yuri were going to consummate their relationship.

He would have to pick a night where Yuri wasn't working third shift and didn't have anything going on the next morning. They could go out to a nice restaurant. That might require some explaining, but it would be worth it, particularly if the restaurant was nice enough that Yuri would be required to dress up in a suit. That thought left plans by the wayside as Flynn's imagination ran with the idea of Yuri in a suit, layers of clothing waiting to be shed, a silk tie hanging from his throat—Flynn could practically hear the hiss of fabric—hiding a line of buttons that would expose him by inches. He could almost feel the tug of Yuri's grip on his own tie, Yuri's palms pressed flat against his chest, warm even through his dress shirt.

Flynn shook his head to clear it and got out of the car, grabbing the bag and heading for the stairs to his apartment.

Yes. Definitely a nice restaurant. Maybe even a hotel…. No, never mind. Yuri would be more comfortable in their apartment. Flynn's room would have to do. He would have to make sure it was neat, at least. Would candles be too much?

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning to leave his shoes neatly next to the door. Yuri's own boots had been tossed thoughtlessly aside, but it didn't really bother Flynn just then, not when his head was full of plans and desires.

"Yuri, I'm home." He heard a door open behind him. "Are you doing anything Saturday? I think—" Flynn forgot the rest of what he'd wanted to say as he turned to see Yuri coming down the hall.

Apparently, Yuri had just gotten out of the shower. He was dripping wet and clothed in nothing but the towel he'd wrapped around his waist. Flynn stared openly, watching little beads of water slide down the smooth planes of Yuri's chest and stomach. He followed one with his eyes as it trickled down past Yuri's bellybutton and disappeared into the towel that was hanging low enough on Yuri's hips to completely derail Flynn's thought process. His mouth felt dry. He'd been talking about something, making plans, but they didn't seem important anymore, not nearly as important as catching with his tongue that glistening drop sliding towards the hollow of Yuri's throat.

"Flynn? You okay?" The drop quivered with his words, hanging on his skin.

With a quick step forward, Flynn grabbed Yuri's shoulders and licked him, chest to chin.

"Woah! Hey, good morning to you, too!"

The shopping bag rustled as it swung against Yuri's side, reminding Flynn that he'd been preparing for weeks and they didn't need to rush, he could wait and make the night special…but then he saw Yuri's smile and felt fingers tracing lightly over his sides. They could get dressed up and go out another night. The trappings weren't what was important.

"I want you." He was surprised at how rough his voice sounded. "Right now."

Seeing Yuri surprised was a rare thing, and not only because it was hard to catch him off-guard, but because he normally hid his surprise fairly well. Obviously, he had not been at all prepared for the sudden flare of need that had taken over Flynn's faculties, because he just stood there for several long seconds, staring in open-mouthed shock.

Flynn's hands still rested on Yuri's shoulders. He could feel the heat of the shower still radiating off Yuri's body. The desire to pull him close and kiss him was almost unbearable, but much as he wanted Yuri, he didn't want to push him, didn't want to pressure, so he held himself still. If Yuri wasn't ready they would wait. It was up to him.

All of a sudden, Yuri blinked and the stalemate was broken. A smirk spread across his face.

"I'm surprised it took you this long."

He stepped into Flynn and brought their lips together in a kiss that fast became desperate. Flynn hugged him close, hands wandering up and down the damp expanse of Yuri's back, tangling in the wet locks of his hair. He wanted to tell Yuri that he was beautiful and amazing, that Flynn wanted him like he'd never wanted anyone in his life. The words got lost in the play of tongues and press of hands. At some point, Yuri lost his towel and Flynn wasn't sure which one of them had pulled it loose.

They made it to the bedroom before Flynn lost the presence of mind to get them there, but only just barely.

Lying naked beside Flynn on top of the rumpled sheets, Yuri laughed softly.

"I need another shower."

"Sor—"

"If you apologize for that, I'll kick your ass. Satisfied?"

"Very."

Flynn stretched to kiss Yuri's cheek and laid an arm across his chest, pulling him a little closer as he rubbed his fingers lightly over Yuri's shoulder.

"No, really. I need to go get cleaned up. I'm late."

At that, Flynn propped himself up on his elbows to look down at Yuri. "What?"

"I was supposed to be at the shelter…oh, about now."

"Yuri! Why didn't you say something? I—"

"Don't worry about it. I'll just tell them I had car trouble or something."

He tweaked a lock of Flynn's hair, then, before Flynn could warn him to take it easy, rolled over and hopped off the bed. He froze, bent half over for a second, then slowly straightened up.

"Ow. Okay, not so much roughhousing with Repede today."

"Are you all right?"

He started to get up, but Yuri waved him back down. Without bothering to even try and cover up, he made his way around the bed, heading for the door. Pausing right outside, he looked back over his shoulder.

"You going to your mom's today?"

"Oh. Yes. I suppose I ought to wash up, myself."

Yuri grinned. "Wanna join me?"

"Very tempting, but you're already late. This evening?"

"Pizza?"

"It's a date."

A flicker of surprise crossed Yuri's face and, as he retreated to his bathroom, Flynn was sure he saw a blush spreading across his cheeks. Smiling, bubbling over with delight, he got up and headed for the master bath to clean up.

A couple weeks later, Flynn drove them to the grocery store. Yuri was going to pick up a few things they needed. Flynn was being allowed to tag along in the hope that he would learn how to spot bargains and pick out the best brands. Mostly, he spent the time holding back constant impulses to touch Yuri: to pat his shoulder or brush back his hair or even reach out to hold his hand. That need to touch him had only seemed to increase after they'd started dating and, though he knew it was allowed, even welcomed in the privacy of their apartment, he was still having to quash urges with aggravating frequency when they went out.

Flynn was just thinking that he could probably get away with letting a hand settle at the small of Yuri's back as they turned a corner when a man with shoulder-length blond hair came strolling up to Yuri. The man was well dressed and carried a small, fluffy dog in one arm.

"Good afternoon, Bright Eyes. Haven't seen you for a while."

"Hey, Richard. Who's your friend?"

"Her name is Belle. Don't tell Asbel, but I named her after him." He looked over at Flynn. "Is this your Prince Charming?"

"Yeah. Richard, this is Flynn. Flynn, Richard."

Feeling he had missed a crucial detail somewhere, Flynn nodded. "Nice to meet you."

Richard eyed him appraisingly, then turned his smile back to Yuri and hit him playfully on the arm. "I can see why no one at the bar turned your head."

"Yeah, well…. Thanks for the advice, by the way."

"Oh, no problem! Listen, I've got to get going, but come by any time you need to talk shop."

"Sure. See you around."

Richard patted Yuri's shoulder, waved, and was gone as suddenly as he'd appeared.

Flynn waited until he was sure the man was out of earshot before speaking. "Yuri…what just happened?"

"He's a friend of mine."

"Right. I gathered that much. What did he mean when he called me…?"

He couldn't say it. He was pretty sure he was actually blushing. Yuri smirked.

"My 'Prince Charming?' It's the nickname the guys at the club made up for you."

"What club?"

"You know that place out past the old airport?"

"The Cod—"

Flynn bit back the rest of the word. Now he knew he was blushing. What had Yuri said about the two of them? The Captain's Codpiece was a somewhat infamous gay bar. He glanced around to see if he and Yuri had attracted any attention, then continued in hushed tones.

"What were you doing there?"

"I started going when things started getting, y'know…more interesting between us. Figured it would be better to have some been there, done that advice. Why?" His smirk widened. "How did you work out the finer points of—"

"I used the internet!"

Of course, Yuri laughed at him, actually threw back his head and laughed loud enough to attract a few stares. "Nerd," he said, once he had finished.

"Can we not talk about it?"

"I trusted you."

"Shut up. It worked out, didn't it? Don't we need eggs?"

He started off down the aisle, followed by Yuri's quiet laughter. He had almost shaken off the embarrassment when Yuri leaned close to whisper in his ear.

"Richard's the guy who gave me that lube you like—the apple-flavored stuff."

Much as he didn't like the idea of strange men—strange gay men—giving Yuri gifts, there wasn't much Flynn could do about it. Besides, he knew Yuri and trusted him. It made more sense that Yuri had done exactly what he said—gone out to a gay bar and made friends to ask for advice—than that he might have begun visiting The Codpiece to cheat on Flynn. Still…still, it didn't sit quite right. And he hadn't needed to laugh like that.

Yuri bumped into him deliberately, making Flynn stumble and breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hey. What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"You wanna come meet the guys next time?"

"No, that's all right."

Using the excuse of reaching for a carton of creamer on the top shelf over Flynn's shoulder, Yuri pressed up against him.

"Let's go home. I wanna try out one of Richard's suggestions."

He squeezed Flynn's shoulder and let his hand trail lightly down his back as he stepped away. Suddenly keenly aware of exactly how long it would take them to get back to the apartment, Flynn shook his head and smiled a little. They could talk about what Yuri had told his new friends later. First, he wanted to find out what sort of suggestions Richard had been giving him. Yuri's grin promised that they would be well worth the fleeting embarrassment.