A/N: Just a plot bunny I worked into the Convictions timeline. I still am not completely happy about it, but my friend thinks it's fine, and I really don't know what else to do with it.
Oh. I maybe should mention that my friend and I have ideas about Ioder.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
Looking back, Flynn realized that his first clue that something just wasn't right should have been Yuri actually using the door when he came to visit. However, despite having grown accustomed to mud and dirt on his windowsill and the carpet just underneath, and the smudges of fingerprints left maddeningly out of reach on the outside of the glass, Flynn was in no state of mind to notice Yuri's newfound manners.
A dispute between the Knights stationed at Torim Harbor and one of the Union's guilds had escalated into violence and both sides were claiming that the other had instigated the fight. People from both groups had been injured, but one of the guildsmen had come out worst of all. He hadn't regained consciousness, and his guild had been clamoring for justice and using the whole awful mess to drum up opposition to the empire. Flynn and Ioder had been keeping in touch with the Union leaders through Harry, seeking a resolution but, as more demands were made than met, the situation was spiraling down the drain and threatening to damage the peaceful relations between the Union and the empire.
Yuri walked in on Flynn as he was reading Harry's most recent letter, delivered not an hour ago by Raven. The ex-knight had asked Flynn to be patient; Harry was new at this still and he'd be sure to talk to the boy some more once he got back and try to help smooth things over with the other guild leaders. He'd been deferential and apologetic, but his manner had been colored by that same affected sincerity that was usually apparent when dealing with him. Flynn wasn't sure he was trustworthy.
"Don't trust the old man," Yuri said.
Flynn looked up at him, shocked. He had only just considered asking Yuri's opinion on the matter. Sometimes he forgot exactly how sharp Yuri could be.
"Were you listening in on our conversation earlier?"
"Hardly. I keep up with what's going on between the guilds and the empire. It was pretty easy to guess what his business in town was."
"So, you think he was lying about trying to help convince the Union to back down?"
For a moment, Yuri just stared at him, as if he had to choose his words with care. It was an odd thought to have in connection with Yuri Lowell, of all people. Nevertheless, his answer was unexpectedly diplomatic and, in the end, not altogether helpful.
"I believe the old man wants peace just as much as you do. With him, the question isn't what he wants, but on whose terms."
Sighing, Flynn pushed the letter aside and rubbed a hand over his face. The situation was a literal headache. For once, he had absolutely no problem with Yuri interrupting his work.
"What brings you by?" He jumped a little when Yuri came around the desk and stroked his cheek. It was a strangely gentle gesture.
"You look tired. Want some tea, or something?"
"Coffee, I think. I feel like I'm half asleep today." He started to get up, but Yuri pushed him back into his chair.
"I'll get it. Wait right there. I'll be back in a minute."
Yuri smiled—an actual smile, not a smirk or a grin—and Flynn stared, unused to the softness the expression lent to Yuri's face. He'd known Yuri longer than anyone and had seen him at his best and his worst. Yuri had given him friendship, trust, even love, but there were still sides of him that he rarely showed, and Flynn couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Yuri smile like that. He could feel a blush heating up his face and then Yuri was out the door, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he went, and leaving Flynn feeling vaguely confused and considerably overworked.
It had to be that he'd simply been working too hard and had been too long apart from Yuri. He was reading too much into things. Yuri had always cared about him and, while he didn't generally express it so obviously, it wasn't a stretch to think he'd be a little nicer than usual after being so long away. They were lovers, after all. There had to be more that had changed between them than the things they got up to when sharing a bed.
That was not a thought Flynn needed to dwell on at the moment. He picked up Harry's letter again, determined to get through it and begin considering his response. It was going to take some work. Apparently, the guildsman who had been left unconscious after the brawl had died and now guild members were clamoring to make an example out of the knights involved.
It wasn't long before Yuri returned, bearing a tray from the kitchens. He poured Flynn a cup of hot, black coffee, and handed it to him with a smile before fixing his own with sugar and cream.
Flynn took a long sip from his mug and sighed. "Thank you. I should be finished with this in just a little while, if you don't mind waiting."
"Not at all." He sat down and actually kept quiet and still until Flynn started finding himself distracted simply by the lack of distractions Yuri was causing. He peered up from the letter to see Yuri smiling at him again.
"Is anything wrong?"
"No more so than usual, but you're working on that, right?" He indicated the letter with the hand that held his coffee. "Go ahead. I'll wait."
"All right…."
Again, there wasn't anything strange about Yuri making comments about how Flynn was going to fix the world, or the way he preferred for Flynn to do his job rather than put their time together first, but there was something about the way he was being so accommodating today that just wasn't right. Flynn couldn't quite put his finger on what it was and he shifted restlessly in the quiet of his office as he tried to focus on the letter.
Finally, Yuri stood up. Flynn thought he must have gotten bored with behaving himself, but Yuri surprised him again by coming around the desk and stopping behind Flynn's chair, reaching around to rub his shoulders.
"Yuri…what are you doing?"
"You looked a little stressed."
His fingers found a knot and dug into Flynn's flesh, working the little ball of tension loose as Flynn stifled a groan. The letter dropped to the desk, forgotten, as Flynn leaned forward to give Yuri better access. The backrub felt amazing. He hadn't even realized he was so tense, but he was plenty grateful that Yuri had.
"Why are you being so nice today?"
"I'm always nice."
It wasn't an answer and it wasn't true, but it was so obviously a response intended to sidestep the question that Flynn didn't want to pursue it. He was certain further questions would lead to an argument, and he really didn't want the massage to end just yet. Still, on the slim chance that Yuri was trying to curry favor against some soon-to-be-revealed misdeed, Flynn felt he should make some effort to find out what he had done.
"Did you have something to tell me?"
"Such as?"
"Have you done something recently that I'm not going to like?"
"Probably. To be fair, there are a lot of things I do that you don't like. Why so suspicious all of a sudden? Have some deserving scumbags gone missing?"
At that, Flynn sat up straight and turned to meet Yuri's eyes. The fading tension in his shoulders had returned with a vengeance. "That's what I'm asking you."
Yuri crossed his arms and smirked down at him. "You're fishing."
"You're avoiding the question."
He laughed, and the sound of it let Flynn relax a little. Yuri was capable of murder when he felt it justified, but it wasn't a burden he accepted lightly.
"Relax. I haven't broken the law recently."
"You could have just said that to begin with."
"You could have given me a bit more credit. I bring you coffee and rub your shoulders and you think I'm trying to keep you from arresting me? You know me better than that."
"Sorry." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "It's this whole situation with the Union. I really do need to finish this letter. Give me a few more minutes, and then we can talk."
"Sure." He returned to his chair as Flynn returned to his work. This time, however, he didn't stay so quiet.
"Hey, Flynn?"
"Yes?" He was only half-listening. Most of his attention was focused on drafting a response.
"Have you been keeping up with that merchant's case; the one who killed all those kids? Landrigan, was the name. Watch out for him. I've heard he's already tried to bribe at least two knights into helping him escape. You've got to be sure he gets what's coming to him."
"He will."
Landrigan was locked in a cell, and the mountain of evidence against him was still growing. He wasn't a threat, unlike the Union extremists who were itching for a war with the empire. Flynn kept his letter to Harry brief, suggesting at the end of it the need for a formal, face-to-face meeting, thinking that actually talking things out might ease the way to a peaceful resolution. Ioder would still have to approve, but Flynn was fairly confident that the young imperial candidate would agree that it was the best course of action, and would probably even insist on taking part in the meeting himself. With these thoughts in mind, he put the final touches on his letter and set it aside to give Yuri his undivided attention.
"So, to what do I owe the rare pleasure of your company? Does Brave Vesperia have a job in town?"
"We're between clients at the moment. I came to take you to lunch."
"All the way from Dahngrest for that? I'm touched."
He stepped around the desk to stand before Yuri and reached out to run a hand through his long, dark hair. How long had it been since they'd seen each other last? Four months? Five? Brave Vesperia was building quite a reputation, which kept its members busy with jobs. Yuri was seeing the world like Flynn used to encourage him to, but it was taking him increasingly out of Flynn's reach. He treasured what little time they could afford to spend together.
Yuri stood and took a step forward, backing Flynn against the desk. "Well, not just for that," he admitted. "I figured I should stop in and let you know I haven't gotten myself killed."
He leaned in, amusement making his eyes sparkle. Hungry as he was, Flynn found that he didn't care so much about lunch anymore, not with Yuri pressing right up against him like that. He settled his hands at Yuri's waist, surprised at how lean he felt. Yuri had always been a little more slender, but he had obviously lost weight since Flynn had seen him last. Perhaps, like Flynn, he had been working too hard. Both of them could probably use a break, though it wasn't likely that either would take one.
Rather than moving in for a kiss, Yuri ran a finger lightly around the device on Flynn's chest, worn merely for decoration nowadays rather than the advantage it used to provide in battle. He cocked his head to the side, and there was a little more of his familiar smirk in the smile he wore as he spoke.
"So, think you can manage to slip away for a little while?"
It was another red flag but, though Flynn recognized how uncharacteristic it was for Yuri to encourage him to leave his work, he didn't dwell on the odd request. He was finding it difficult to focus on much of anything just then, apart from the happiness he felt at having Yuri back for a time, and the anticipation of how their evening together would end.
"I think I've earned a break. Besides, it would be a shame to miss such a rare opportunity. When you said you were taking me to lunch, you did mean that you're treating, right?"
"Don't get your hopes up. I cooked."
"I like your cooking. I wish I knew how you manage to make so many dishes so well."
"Same secret ingredient every time."
"What would that be?"
Flynn didn't really believe that there was one ingredient Yuri added to everything he cooked to magically make it taste good, but he was willing to try anything. It seemed like such a little thing, but Yuri had cooked for him many times over the years, and Flynn felt that sometimes cooking could be a special way of showing love. Even though Yuri would probably think that was silly, one day Flynn wanted to be able to cook something for him that he would actually enjoy.
Instead of answering Flynn's question, Yuri stepped back and jerked his head toward the door. "Come on. We're going to have a picnic."
A picnic? That was…unusually whimsical. Yuri had to have something planned, and Flynn was content to play along and wait to see what it was.
"Wait for me outside. I've got to bring something to Ioder before we go."
"Sure. Don't keep me waiting too long, all right?" Yuri slipped out of the state room, and Flynn thought he heard him cough before the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind him.
Since he would be bringing the letter to Ioder himself, Flynn didn't bother to seal it. He strode through the halls, mentally reviewing the contents of both Harry's letter and the response he had drafted. He probably could have saved a great deal of trouble by suggesting a face-to-face meeting when it had all gotten started, but no one had expected things to get so far out of control. Now, after the original report of the fight and the injuries, after accounting for the soldiers put out of commission while they healed, after the rising tensions and increasing demands from the Union, after pulling all the empire's troops stationed in or around guild territory outside the borders while continuing to receive reports of increasingly aggressive protests led by guild extremists…now, Flynn just wanted the whole thing to be over with. No drunken brawl should ever result in such far-reaching consequences.
Ioder opened his door just before Flynn knocked for the second time. He smiled brightly, the expression making him look younger than he really was and hopelessly innocent. Flynn knew better. Ioder had lived his entire life surrounded by the intrigues of the Council and the Knights as they sought to outmaneuver each other and gain power over the governance of the empire. The fact that he had managed to retain his autonomy rather than becoming a political puppet spoke to his intelligence and strength of will.
"Good afternoon, Commandant. I take it we've had another missive from Harry."
It was gratifying that Ioder didn't mind letting Flynn see past the mask he presented to most of the other people he dealt with daily, but having his mind read twice in one day was undeniably galling.
Ioder laughed. "No need to make that face. I saw Raven leaving the palace not so long ago." He stepped aside. "Come in and we'll talk."
Flynn handed over the letters as he entered and waited for Ioder to skim the most recent of Harry's correspondences before he spoke.
"I can't stay long, but I wanted to bring those to you personally. The guild's demands are getting worse. They now want every soldier involved in the fight to be surrendered to the Union. That guildsman who had been injured so badly passed away. I'm certain his friends are intending to have the knights charged with murder should we hand them over—assuming they even bother with the appearance of a trial."
"It wouldn't surprise me. It's a good thing that these people are complete amateurs when it comes to inciting a war. They couldn't be more obvious if they tried."
"I don't believe subtlety is one of their concerns."
"No, I suppose not." He sighed. "It is a pretty mess. I suppose you have some thoughts on hastening a peaceful resolution?"
"They are spelled out in the response I drafted. I believe meeting with Harry and the leaders of the foremost guilds in person would do a lot to help. They are letting this continue for a reason, and I don't think dissolving the treaty with the empire or outright war is it. We need to find out what the Union wants."
"Very good, Commandant. I'll look over the letters and send along any changes to your response later this evening." He took a seat at his desk, then looked back up at Flynn. "Oh, and give Yuri my regards."
"Sir?"
Ioder put on his boyish smile. "There's no need to cut short your time with him over a matter like this. Should you ever need to see me about something during one of his visits, please feel free to bring him along. I find speaking with him to be quite… fascinating."
"Yes, Master Ioder."
He really hadn't been sure how else to respond to that. Ioder turned his attention to the letters in wordless dismissal, and Flynn took his leave, feeling like he was missing something. The day had been getting stranger and stranger. How often had Yuri spoken with Ioder? Had they become friends, somehow? Flynn had been under the impression that Yuri held some sort of grudge over the fact that Ioder had dared to pardon him for his crimes.
Well, it was probably just that Yuri never had given a damn about rank when it came to speaking his mind, and he did have a unique perspective on the situation, being both of Zaphias and the guilds. That was likely all there was to it.
He joined Yuri on the front steps of the palace and, from there, they made a brief stop in at Yuri's room to pick up the basket of food he'd prepared before leaving the city for their picnic. Yuri took them up to the top of a small, grassy hill with a view of Zaphias and the river. He spread out a blanket beneath the single tree and motioned for Flynn to sit down as he unpacked their lunch.
Yuri had outdone himself. There were rolls seasoned with garlic and herbs and stuffed with meats and cheeses, croquettes, salad and sautéed vegetables, roast chicken, and fruit tarts for dessert. He'd picked up a bottle of wine as well, and poured glasses for them both as Flynn looked over the meal, amazed. True, this wasn't the first time Yuri had cooked for him, but it had never been anything quite like this. He remembered quiet meals in Yuri's room above The Comet, snacks Yuri had hauled in through the window to Flynn's state room, and simple food prepared on the road during their journey to Ceazontania. He filled his plate and ate gratefully, savoring every bite. It was delicious. Yuri's cooking always was.
When he finished, he leaned back, bracing himself with his palms against the ground, and sighed, content in that moment with the gentle breeze, the warmth of the sun, a bellyful of good food, and Yuri by his side. He wanted to stay just like that for as long as possible. It wasn't often that life was so nice.
…Actually, life wasn't ever that nice, not in Flynn's experience. He tried to push the sudden unease back. Yuri had probably just missed him, or he'd really enjoyed his last job and was in a particularly good mood. There was certainly some innocuous reason for the strangely attentive way he'd been acting.
"Something wrong, Flynn?"
Smiling a little, he looked over at Yuri. "Just thinking too much. You seem a little different today."
"How so?"
"Just…strange. For you, anyway. You've never done anything like this before."
"Is it really that strange to want to make some happy memories?"
"No, I suppose not."
He closed his eyes again and tried to settle back into the peace his thoughts had roused him from, but he couldn't get back to that moment. Since when had Yuri ever talked about making memories? That wasn't an explanation, it was more of his odd behavior. Besides, wasn't Yuri always happiest when he was active, when he was fighting or when he and Flynn enjoyed each other's company privately? The coffee, the backrub, this picnic…it was all too sweet, too overtly affectionate. It wasn't Yuri. He was up to something.
"Listen, Flynn."
Yuri sounded serious, and Flynn was suddenly at attention, sitting up straight to look him in the eye, or he would have if Yuri hadn't been staring down at the edge of the blanket, plucking at the grass that sprung up from beneath it. He looked unusually pensive, and Flynn wondered what had shifted his mood so suddenly.
"I'm going to be leaving soon, and I won't be back for a while this time. Be sure to keep an eye on things, all right? I won't be around to watch your back if something goes wrong."
"I think I can handle my job without you."
The words lacked the bite he'd intended them to have. Something about what Yuri had said or the way he'd said it made Flynn nervous. Where was he going, and how long was 'a while?' This was just another job coming up, right? Surely, Karol and Judith wouldn't let him take on anything too dangerous.
Something didn't feel right, though. Yuri wasn't opposed to giving Flynn advice or speaking his mind about the changes and policies affecting the citizens of the empire, but he usually trusted Flynn to do his job. The way he'd spoken a moment ago, as if it would be a very, very long time before they saw each other again, didn't sit well. It almost sounded like….
"Yuri, are you all right?"
He'd lost weight. He'd started coughing when he left the room, earlier. Had he felt warmer than usual? Flynn couldn't remember and reached out to grab Yuri's wrist with one hand and press his other to Yuri's forehead. He wanted to make some happy memories? He wasn't going to be around? That all sounded like he was—
"What the hell are you doing?"
Yuri jerked away and stood up, staring down at Flynn who could only sit there, gaping, trying to come up with some reason—any reason—for Yuri's strange behavior and cryptic comments aside from the thought that had struck him cold a moment ago.
If Yuri was ill, if he was so ill that he was talking like that and trying to make the best of his time with Flynn and trying to hide the fact that he was sick…. No. There had to be another explanation. Flynn had gotten it wrong. He wouldn't believe it until he heard the truth from Yuri. He clambered to his feet, reaching out even as Yuri backed away, frowning.
"What's gotten into you?"
"Yuri…are you—"
He was interrupted by a familiar bark, and both of them looked up to see Repede tearing across the countryside, heading straight for them. Behind him, coming up over another hill, was a cloud of dust that roared.
Flynn heard the whisper of Yuri's sword as it came free from its sheath, and looked over to see Yuri facing the oncoming hoard of monsters with a wild grin on his face.
"I'd asked Repede to try and keep things peaceful for us, but it looks like he's made some friends to bring to the party."
Hoping that there would be time for questions later, Flynn drew his own sword and took a deep, steadying breath. They'd faced down far more powerful foes before. Even if there were a lot of monsters this time, even if Yuri was sick, together, the two of them were unbeatable. They would deal with this first, and then Flynn would deal with Yuri and get an explanation.
With a bark of greeting, Repede joined them and spun to face the pack of wolves eating up the distance between them. His tongue was lolling as he panted, but there was something of Yuri's anticipatory grin in the expression. Flynn didn't have long to consider that. Repede drew his dagger and then the monsters were upon them.
Though he knew the dangers of dividing his focus during a battle, Flynn tried his best to stay near Yuri and keep an eye on him. Normally, he had complete faith that Yuri could take care of himself, but it hadn't been a normal day and, while the fight left him with no time to properly evaluate Yuri's condition, he knew he was prioritizing defense too highly while he tried. Yuri was all over the place, slaying monster after monster, while Flynn followed him, picking off the beasts that tried to attack from behind or rush him en masse.
"What's the matter, Flynn? Too much desk work got you out of practice?"
He caught a flash of Yuri's grin as he spun between foes, dark hair whipping across his face. Flynn had never understood how that didn't drive Yuri crazy during fights, but he'd never known it to throw him off.
Another wolf fell to Yuri's blade. The rest were retreating, and Repede sheathed his dagger and chased them a little ways out, barking at them as they ran. Yuri laughed as he flipped his sword into the air and caught it, a cocky trick he'd mastered long before his short stint in the Knights. He seemed fine, and Flynn was relieved for the half a second it took Yuri to turn and face him and spot something that wiped the smile off his face.
Flynn looked over his shoulder to see a straggler charging him. Knowing that he wouldn't make it in time, he started to turn, raising his sword—when had he dropped his guard?—and was knocked to the ground by a couple hundred pounds of snarling fury. The monster dug its claws in and clamped its jaws down on Flynn's shoulder.
As he struggled to fight off the creature, Flynn distantly heard Yuri shouting. He couldn't make out the words, but in the next moment, he saw Yuri's sword streak like a comet across his vision and into the wolf. Something inside him snapped with a sickening crunch and he couldn't hold back a scream as the wolf thrashed, trying to get away, but refusing to let him go. He saw Yuri, furious and pale, and Repede, dagger once more at the ready. There was blood on the grass and on the wolf's fur and Flynn knew a lot of it was his. The monster was grinding its teeth in his flesh and he couldn't tear himself free.
Yuri attacked again and again, wounding, because Flynn was in the way and he couldn't get in a fatal strike. Repede barked and darted in to nip at the beast's sides, trying to distract it. It was only when Yuri managed a jab that took out one of the monster's eyes that it dropped Flynn, howling in pain. Yuri didn't waste the opening. He was standing over Flynn in a flash, sword cutting through the wolf one final time to end its life.
As darkness began to close in, the last thing Flynn saw was Yuri, stumbling as he turned to look down, face ashen.
He really does look sick. It was the last thought Flynn had before he lost consciousness.
Flynn's shoulder was throbbing in time with his pulse, the pain surging down his left arm and up his neck into his head with every beat of his heart. With each breath, he felt the constriction of bandages wrapped tight around his chest and upper arm. He didn't want to move, didn't want to open his eyes, didn't even want to be awake. It had been a long time since he'd felt pain like this. The world had known relative peace for almost two years, which meant he hadn't been out in the field with the troops, fighting. He'd forgotten how quickly things could go wrong in a melee. It had been stupid of him to split his focus, stupid to try to become Yuri's shield like he had, but…he hadn't been able to stop himself.
He still remembered when Yuri had gotten so sick the year before. He remembered the horrible fevers, the delirium, and the things Yuri had said during a few rare moments of lucidity. He remembered being angry and hurt and scared, and how he couldn't bring himself to sit with Yuri and speak to him. Flynn had checked in on him every day, but he'd kept his distance and tried to convince himself that the sickness wasn't as bad as it seemed and that Yuri hadn't really meant those things he'd said.
He'd realized later that he'd been in denial, that Yuri really might have died, had come terribly close, in fact. However, it had never occurred to him before that Yuri would meet his end in any manner aside from at the hands of an enemy. So long as Yuri wasn't fighting, he was safe. That he could be struck down by a fever had been a thought that shook Flynn to his core, and here he was now, a year later, facing that same possibility.
Groaning, he sat up in bed. Given the state he was in, he did not want to even attempt to pry the truth out of Yuri, but he had to know. As he started to get up, a familiar form moved to stand beside his bed.
"Easy, there. You sure you don't want to rest a little longer?"
Yuri was smirking, but there was something faded and tired about the expression. He stood over Flynn, one hand resting on his hip, trying his best to look nonchalant, but there was tension in his shoulders, in the way he held himself immobile as if it was a struggle to keep still. He didn't look quite so pale anymore, at least.
"Rest can wait. We need to talk."
"I know that tone. What did I do this time?"
"You know what you did. You've been doing it all day."
"So, you figured it out?" He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed for having hidden the truth.
"How long have we known each other? Of course I did." Flynn clenched his fists around the sheets. "Why did you feel you had to hide something like that from me?"
"It was easier this way. I was going to tell you."
"Really? When?"
He didn't care how angry he sounded, how accusatory his tone had become. Yuri would turn it into a fight, but Yuri always did that, always put up barriers between them and hid important parts of himself. Let him, then. Let him waste more of their time fighting. He hadn't even seen fit to mention how much more precious that time had become.
"What the hell, Flynn? It was just a bet. And if you hadn't gotten yourself gnawed on, I probably would've won. What was up with you out there? I've never seen you so distracted during a fight."
'Bet?' What did he mean, 'bet?' Dumbfounded, Flynn stared up at Yuri, wondering if he'd made some sort of awful mistake.
"What are you looking at me like that for?"
"Yuri, are you sick?"
Now it was Yuri's turn to look confused. "No. Why?"
"You've lost weight." Flynn had felt it. "And you were coughing." Flynn had heard him.
"Coughing? Oh." He laughed. "You did hear that. I was trying really hard to keep a straight face, too." He shook his head as his shoulders began to shake with repressed laughter.
It wasn't funny. Flynn felt his cheeks heating up as he scowled. "What about that line you fed me about making happy memories?"
"Flat out lie." Yuri's voice was thick with laughter and he was having trouble standing up straight. "Was just trying to shut you up about why I was acting so nice…and you thought I was sick? You idiot."
Injured shoulder be damned, he was not going to let Yuri stand there and laugh. Flynn hauled himself out of bed and grabbed Yuri by the collar with his good hand.
"It isn't funny."
Yuri knocked his hand away with infuriating ease and smirked. "It's a little funny. What, you thought I was delirious, or something?"
"I thought you were dying, you ass!" It sounded so stupid now, but the words wiped the smirk off Yuri's face.
"You thought…. How the hell did you come to that conclusion? Damn. I was just trying to act like all those other couples do." His cockiness had faded away, and he shifted uneasily.
"You had to know I'd realize something wasn't right."
"Yeah, but…you act mushy, sometimes. I thought I could get you to overlook it."
"When do I—no. Never mind. I don't want to know what your definition of 'mushy' is." He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to sort through the whole mess.
"Don't strain yourself."
"Explain. You said something about a bet and acting like other couples, but I still have no idea what's going on."
Shrugging, Yuri dropped down into Flynn's desk chair. "It's a little hard to explain. Rita stopped by our headquarters in Dahngrest a couple weeks back, and she and Judy got to talking about Estelle. I wasn't really listening, but I heard Judy say my name and something about how I never bother being anything but myself. Then, all of a sudden, Rita was saying something about how being sweet or not didn't matter when it came to idiots, and the next thing I knew, I'd bet Judy fifty gald that I could be nice the way lovey-dovey couples are." He waved a hand at Flynn and the bandages wrapped around him. "We see how well that worked out."
Flynn sat back down on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why did you take the bet?"
"Got me. I know better than to wager against her but, you know.…" He shrugged again, smiling crookedly. "Judy."
He didn't know. He barely knew Judith. However, if Yuri had been thrown off balance by her, she must be formidable. It generally took an awful lot to unbalance Yuri.
"So, let me get this straight. You let her bait you into pretending to be romantic, and your idea of romance was to pull me away from my work to go on a picnic and fight monsters. Is that correct?"
"Sounds about right. Technically, the monsters were an accident, but I thought they were a nice touch. Right up until you let one of them get you," he added hurriedly.
"And you're not sick?"
"Perfect heath."
"Good. I'm going to beat some sense into you as soon as my arm's healed."
Grinning, Yuri held up his hands between them. "I was going to treat you to a nice dinner if I won the bet."
"You're going to treat me to a nice dinner, anyway. You owe me for this."
"Hey, I'm not the one who got distracted in a fight."
Flynn hadn't been talking about his injury, though. He admitted fault for that readily enough. No, Yuri owed him for the panic and the sorrow and the utter helplessness he'd felt at the thought that he would lose Yuri. That, and for making him wish, however briefly, that it would be a nice change of pace if Yuri demonstrated affection a little more often. Flynn knew the chances of that were pretty small, though.
He would take what he could get, be it a smile, a touch, or a home cooked meal. The sincerity in those little things had always been enough before because, unlike with his mistaken guesswork over Yuri's attempt at being romantic, Flynn knew what those small gestures meant, and he knew how to respond in kind. He would work hard to build the world they'd dreamt of as children, and Yuri would be there, not always at his side, but with him, connected to him by a bond that wouldn't be easily broken.
And every time Yuri looked at him with that soft smile; every time he challenged Flynn, pushed him to do better because he believed Flynn could; every time Yuri twined their fingers or leaned closer just to touch him; every time they crossed blades and Flynn knew Yuri wasn't holding back against him; every time Yuri cooked something and watched to see Flynn smile when he tasted it—in all these small things, Yuri named that bond anew.