Author's Notes: A few weeks ago at a convention I devised the plot to this in about an hour. I'm not going to spoil anything here in the author's notes though. Please enjoy, :D

Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai. Dracula is the property of Bram Stoker.

It was a rare day when his feet didn't ache. People often complained about how hard the hustle and bustle of their day-to-day lives and jobs was on their feet and joints. They didn't know the pain that he knew. More than a few times, he had removed his shoes to find his feet bruised and bloodied. After the first time, and considering the amount of effort he put into his work, he was no longer surprised. The injuries were tolerable and were marks of his dedication and hard work. He couldn't deny their meaning, even if it later made jogging on the treadmill at the gym a taxing experience. Like everything else, he powered through the pain and prayed his feet wouldn't go numb or get strained. He couldn't afford a serious injury.

Yuri slowed the treadmill as he reached his final five minutes. He was breathing hard and he needed to bring his heart rate and breathing back to normal before he moved on to the boxing area to where he could work the rest of his body. The cool down session caused the normal hot ache in his legs that told him that his hard work was paying off.

As soon as the timer reached zero and displayed the results of his vigorous run, he grabbed his gym bag and water bottle and padded down the hall to a large room where there was a boxing ring and a pair hefty sandbags hanging from the ceiling for practice purposes.

Yuri had hoped that he would have the room to himself, as his schedule allowed him to be in the gym when few other people were, but it was not so today. One of the sandbags was in use, but Yuri didn't mind, especially when the company looked as good as this guy did.

He was about the same height as Yuri, but had a stockier build. His blond hair was short and closely cropped to his ears, void of any styling so that it ended up just being a mess of spikes. He had a light tan and a few faint freckles, and his sky blue eyes were bright and focused on the sandbag before him. As Yuri moved around him to another hanging practice bag, he was happy to discover that the back looked as good as the front.

The blond groaned and grunted, his gloved fists hitting the sandbag almost endlessly. Rather than be distracted further by the handsome stranger, Yuri dropped his gym bag and strapped on his gloves. His own assault on the practice dummy started a moment later with a deep breath to focus his concentration.

The focus was instantly there, on the center of the sandbag that he was pummeling, and everything else around him faded out. Time disappeared and all that remained was his opponent and the sound of his fist against it. But zoning out had its problems.

"Ow! Hey, watch it."

His focus broke and he dropped his fists, to find that a hard right hook had thrown his target into the blond's path, and probably hit him. The bag swung backward and he braced it to a stop with one hand. "Sorry about that. I don't pay much attention when I get in the zone, you know?"

The blond regarded him with a look that Yuri had seen many times before. It was doubtful and judgmental. He saw it more often than he liked.

"I won't let it happen again." Yuri turned and narrowed his focus once more, but not so narrow that he couldn't see the blond watching him. He started his assault once more, crouching slightly and swinging to hit the bag over and over again. The blond went back to his focus as well, and after a moment, his bag swung in Yuri's direction.

Yuri luckily saw it coming. He punched it back harder, standing up straight, and stopped his own bag once more. If he hadn't been on his toes and the bag had managed to hit him, it could have caused an injury that Yuri couldn't afford to get. Anger flashed in his veins, and he turned it against the other man. "Are you trying to start something?"

The blond was still giving him with that look. "I wanted to see if you could hit it."

"What the fuck do you take me for?"

"Someone who shouldn't be near the ring. Scrawny."

"Look here, you stupid fuck. Don't start shit with me."

"Why not?"

He couldn't figure out what got this blond all up in arms all of a sudden, but he didn't care. If he wanted a fight, Yuri would give him one hell of a fight. "Fine. Do you want to take me in the ring? I'm all for it." He couldn't afford a serious injury, but a few bruises would hardly hinder his work.

"You think you could take me in a fight?" The blond clenched his gloved fists, and took a deep breath. "I don't have time to waste on the likes of you."

Oh, those were fighting words as much as everything else had been, but for now, Yuri begrudgingly let it go.

He had no qualms though about taking his frustrations out of the punching bag for the remainder of his time at the gym. Another fifteen minutes of endless punching got his arms burning and his aggression out without further problems from his angry neighbor. As soon as he was finished, he hit the shower for a quick rinse and left the gym.

The coffee shop across the street was a regular place for him, and he placed his order with the waitress and pulled a rolled up stack of papers out of his bag to look over while he waited for his cappuccino. He stretched and looked up briefly to see a familiar face approaching quickly from the gym. It was the blond who he nearly had to put in his place. His aggression had already ebbed and he wasn't in the mood to be picking fights right now.

The blond man stopped at his table and sort of stared at him for a moment. Yuri pretended not to notice, but when he didn't leave, he spoke up. "What? I thought you didn't have time to waste."

"I... I came to apologize for being an ass. I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you by buying you a coffee."

That was a surprising twist. Here Yuri had been expecting a street brawl, but the blond's anger seemed to have diminished as well. Why he bothered to pursue Yuri further though when he could have just let the situation go and never seen him again was intriguing.

"Sure. Why not?" Yuri motioned for him to sit down in the wrought iron chair across from him. "Name's Yuri. Yuri Lowell."

"Flynn Scifo." They shook hands and he took a seat. When the waitress returned he ordered a cup of plain black coffee. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Don't worry about it." The fact that he bothered to come apologize was enough for Yuri. "So I've never seen you around before. Did you just move here?"

"Yeah. I just got a transfer. I'm still getting used to this city. What about you?"

"I've lived here for a few years now. It's not so bad once you get used to it."

Their coffees arrived a moment later and Yuri took a long sip before Flynn asked another question.

"So what do you do for a living?"

"Nothing special." It wasn't really the truth, but when Yuri told people what the truth was, there was often disbelief and shock. He long ago learned to not bother telling people and then no one would have to be surprised. "What about you?"

"I'm a minor league hockey player." Not what Yuri expected when he asked, but if nothing else, that explained the build of his muscles and his temper.

The city of Zaphias's minor league team wasn't very well known or well regarded, but they were only a minor league team and one couldn't expect the same of them as they did the major leaguers. They weren't major leaguers for a reason.

"Well, since you're new in town, I don't mind showing you around a little when you've got some time." Yuri pulled out a pen and scrawled his cell phone number on a napkin. He felt himself a pretty good judge of character, and overall the demeanor of this blond had been one of someone who could be trusted, even if he was a little hot under the collar sometimes. This could be fun. He handed the napkin to Flynn and then finished off his cappuccino. "I'm busy tonight and tomorrow, but give me a call if you want to meet up sometime."

Yuri knew full well how these meets up usually went and he didn't mind at all. The faint flush of red in Flynn's cheeks told Yuri that he knew as well. A casual fling every now and then satisfied Yuri's needs and he wouldn't mind at all a brief tryst with this firebrand blond. And if he was able to help Flynn get a little more accustomed to living in the city of Zaphias along the way, so be it.

"T-thanks." Flynn pocketed the napkin and took an unsteady sip of his coffee. If Yuri's sudden advance had been unwarranted, Flynn certainly didn't show it.

"It's been nice meeting you, but I have to get going." Yuri stood and threw his papers back in his bag.

"Likewise."

"Give me a call sometime if you're free." He turned to leave and shot one last look over his shoulder and saw Flynn sink a little into his seat. With a smirk, he headed to work. He had a long night ahead of him.

The exchange he had between the gym and the coffee shop had been strange and completely unexpected. At first, it had nearly ended in a fistfight, and then he went to apologize, and suddenly he was being hit on by the very attractive man who had been there for the whole ordeal. Flynn couldn't complain about the way it ended at all.

Even still, he was discontented by the amount of stress on him right now. He had just moved. His transfer had him trying to feel out his new teammates, which was always awkward, and moving to a big city all alone wasn't helping. He knew only one person here and although he had known her for most of his life, it didn't ease the weariness that came with being alone. She had a career as a rising star and had so little time that she could spend with him. He couldn't get in her way. She was living her dream. If only living his own was so easy.

"I'm sorry. Did you wait long?" The girl he was waiting for arrived.

Estelle was a young woman of medium height with bright pink hair and brighter green eyes. She moved with grace and purpose. He supposed that her occupation was a key factor in that.

"Oh, not at all." He quickly moved the cup where Yuri had been sitting away so that she could sit there.

"Was someone else here?"

"Yes, but he's gone now. Don't worry about it too much."

"Does that mean that you've made a friend?" The tone of her voice was much too excited about that.

"We're hardly acquaintances. We met at the gym and decided to have coffee together."

She smiled anyway and when the waitress came to top off Flynn's coffee, she ordered a hot tea. "How have you been? Did you get unpacked okay?"

"I've been fine. All of my unpacking is done and my furniture arrived yesterday."

"We should really have a house warming party for you."

Something that was much easier said than done when he didn't have anybody he knew in this town. "That's quite all right. No need to bother."

"Are you sure?" She frowned a little, but perked back up after a moment. "Are you busy this evening?"

"No."

"I would love it if you could come see our troupe's performance." She pulled a neatly folded flyer out of her purse and showed it to him.

It was a picture of her in a long, thin and poofy dress, poised gracefully on a stage underneath a bright spotlight. It read 'Introducing Halure Dance Troupe's newest prima ballerina, Estelle S. Heurassein as Mina Harker in Bram Stoker's Dracula.'

"I know that ballet isn't really your cup of tea," she giggled a little as the waitress set down her tea, "But it would mean a lot to me if you would be there."

Ballet was Estelle's passion. She had trained since she was a little girl, and if this was her first show as a rising star, there was no way he could deny her the chance to have some family there to witness what would no doubt be her triumphant debut as prima ballerina.

"Of course I'll be there." Her enthusiasm made him smile, and gave him the slightest glimmer of hope about his own dreams while she was living hers. If he worked as hard as she did, surely he could become a great hockey player and even go on to play in the major leagues. He just had to train and work harder to achieve that goal. It was the whole purpose of coming to this city, even if he felt stunted at the start. He just needed some motivation, and seeing her with all the motivation in the world, surely some of it would rub off on him.

"Great! Thank you." She pulled a ticket out of her purse and slid it across the surface of the glass table to him. "The doors open at six thirty and the show starts at seven. I hope that you'll enjoy it."

"I'm sure I will."

He was dressed nicely and there at the appointed time. The ticket Estelle gave him put him in the front row of the theater with the family members of other dancers, where they all had the perfect view of the stage. The three seats beside him remained empty even as the rest of the theater filled with people.

The curtains were down, but he could hear people bustling about across the back of the stage, moving props, stretching, getting the sets ready, getting the music prepared.

Finally, the first layer of red velvet drapes drew back and the troupe's madam, an older, but still lithe looking woman stepped forward with a microphone. She took a deep breath and looked out across the audience as the theater lights dimmed. "Welcome to Halure Dance Troupe's production of Bram Stoker's Dracula. This will be presented in three acts as listed in your program. Please hold your applause until the finale, and enjoy our show." She plied in a bow as gracefully as she must have in her younger days and swept off the stage.

As soon as she departed, the second layer of curtains were drawn up and away, revealing a group of dancers, one female, and three male: Lucy and her suitors. Lucy sat on a swing, and the males attended to her as if their lives depended on her, their dances around her as if baby ducks at their mother. Each movement showed how they pined for her attention, but her focus was elsewhere. Their love was not enough, and with a coy smile off stage, Lucy leapt off the swing, and did a graceful, twirling, dance en pointe before the audience.

He came in a flash of black, whirling around her like a violent cyclone, and her flower-like grace was easily caught up in his dance. He moved against her, his own movements strong and fluid. His cape hid his face from the audience as he danced, feet moving to the rising, heated tempo of the orchestra music. Flashes of his form could be seen as he moved all around her, like a predator against his prey and suddenly it stopped. His cape flared out away from him, revealing a long, leggy, lean form full of poise and untold strength. Her expression became a contorted mix of agony and ecstasy as he laid his pale face against her neck.

Flynn knew that face, and was astonished by its presence here. He had to physically stop himself from calling out in surprise the name of the person who that face belonged to, but that didn't stop him from mentally screaming. What was Yuri doing here, and playing the part of Dracula no less?

The music imitated the cry of a wounded animal, and she crumpled to the stage. With one arm, he lifted her, drawing her back into him like a snake. He furled the cape around her and suddenly she was on her feet again, stronger than ever. Her steps more confident as he withdrew from her and fled off stage and let her instead begin a frenzy of a dance with her three young suitors. Even with her apparent strength, she collapsed at the end and was rushed away by the suitors.

The curtains dropped for but a moment before opening again to a scene of a pair of young lovers, one of which was Estelle as Mina, and the other was her fiancée Jonathan Harker. They bowed, and Mina began her dance first. It was soft and the motions smooth and full of the training that she had done for years. She plied and stood en pointe to spin. The man rose and caught her by the waist, and they moved together into a warm and tender pas de deux, which was broken suddenly by the appearance of two older men, Dr. Seward and Dr. Van Hellsing, who rushed in from off stage. Their steps of urgency were carried over by Estelle, who was seen to dash off stage.

She returned a moment later with the first young woman, who now appeared sickly and weak. Without words, the assembled cast seemed to talk, in steps and motions of concern and frustration, and as the waning young woman drifted into sleep, the curtains closed once more, marking the end of the first act.

Act two started only a few moments later, with the scene of a party where the cast stood assembled accompanied by light and calm music. Even Lucy was there, apparently back to health. A long, thin scarf remained wrapped around her neck, hiding the bite marks left by Dracula in the previous act.

He appeared almost as suddenly as he had in the first act, like darkness and flame, and the cast was no less surprised by the suddenness of his appearance as the audience was. An audience gasp echoed through the watching masses. Mina moved to greet him, heart and steps full of kindness in spite of the strangeness of the guest. Dracula bowed to her, a dark smile across his face, and presented himself to the assembled. He came off as pleasant and worldly, and the cast seemed to enjoy his presence, save one Dr. Van Hellsing. He watched Dracula with a keen and knowing eye, not fooled by his handsome appearance. Mina, however, was enraptured.

Flynn was also, although his attachment was one of much more surprise. As much as he enjoyed watching Estelle dance, his eyes were almost always on Yuri, who showed such strength and grace in his dance. Even as act two melted away and act three began, Flynn barely took notice. The pas de deux between Mina and Dracula was even more passionate that it had been between Lucy and Dracula. She was more innocent, more vulnerable, and that made the fire of his darkness burn ever hotter. The hunt for him was on, and she was the prey he truly desired. A dark lone wolf, and an innocent fawn before him, it was a dance of fire and passion and power. She was completely under his spell and he was prepared to sate himself on her innocent blood, but was stopped. The appearance of Jonathan and Dr. Van Hellsing marked his end with the light of the sun, and Dracula crumpled in his throes of death.

With Mina free from his dark spell, the ballet ended in one last pas de deux between Mina and Jonathan, and a standing ovation erupted through the audience. Even Flynn was compelled to stand and give his gratitude for the exceptional performance as the cast all returned to the stage and bowed before them.

As soon as it was over, and most of the audience left, Estelle found him, still dressed in her costume from the finale.

"Flynn, I'm so glad you could make it!" Her happiness turned to worry. "Are you all right? You look dreadfully pale."

"I'm fine." He tried to put a smile on over his shock. "You did wonderfully. I'm so proud." He hugged her, half out of the familial bond they shared, half to hide what he was having so much difficulty processing.

"Thank you," she said as a slight blush reddened her cheeks. "Won't you come to the after show gala with me?"

"I'm sorry. I really need to be getting home. I have practice early tomorrow, but you have fun and good luck with tomorrow's show."

"All right. Maybe next time then. Good night."

Confused and feeling as strange as he ever had before, Flynn left the theater behind for someplace where he knew what was going on.

After a hard night's work, the gym was the one place Yuri went, although it wasn't because he was concerned about staying in shape. It was because it allowed him to relax and refresh after everything else. He let the other dancers have their fill of partying. An evening alone with a sandbag was much more his style.

He had been pounding away for a while, nearly half an hour, and his arms ached for it. His feet weren't in much better shape, but that never surprised him. He took a brief break from his assault and a few moments to catch his breath. A long sip of cold water quenched his parched throat, and a little more on his face and down the back of his neck washed away a bit of the sweat that had been clinging to him since the start of his performance.

He heard the door of the boxing room open, but paid it little mind. There were other people who used the facilities this late at night after leaving their nine to five jobs or as a means to get away from their kids. But this wasn't one of those people.

"You didn't tell me you were a ballerina."

Yuri spun on his heel to face Flynn. "I'm not a ballerina. I'm a ballet dancer. And does it matter?"

Flynn sputtered, stuck somewhere between anger and embarrassment. From the look of the gym bag in his hand, he had just happened to show up when Yuri was here. Some timing.

"It wouldn't have changed the outcome of the fight we didn't have anyway. Ballet dancer or not, I still would have kicked your ass." This time, Yuri was baiting him into a fight. He knew that's what Flynn wanted. He wasn't sure if it was because Flynn felt like his masculinity was threatened by backing down from a fight with a guy who happened to be a ballet dancer, or what, but Yuri was certainly ready to put a stop to it.

"Like hell you would!"

"My occupation may require that I wear tights, but don't think that I couldn't still own you on the mat."

"Let's see you try." Flynn had sheer muscle on his side, and a temper to boot, but that didn't mean it would be easy for him. It was plain that he was underestimating Yuri because of his choice of profession, and that just wasn't something Yuri backed down from.

Yuri dropped his water bottle and tightened the straps on his gloves. "All right. Let's go then." He stepped through the corded boundaries and into the boxing ring. He taunted Flynn with a wild smirk and a motion of his fist.

Flynn climbed in after him, pulling on his gloves as he did. He stretched quickly while Yuri waited for him, shadow boxing a little to loosen up his own taunt muscles. As soon as he was ready, he made it plain with a fighting stance, and Yuri didn't wait for him to signal further.

He lunged, swinging fast and hard, each punch focused but fluid, and Flynn responded with strength but less speed. His stockier build made him less agile and more likely to take a hit to risk getting one in. Yuri didn't give him much of a chance to use this, moving back and out of Flynn's reach as soon as a blow landed. He continued for a few seconds, each hit causing Flynn to get more and more enraged, until he gave up his wait-and-strike defense and charged, fists prepared to make a hard left or right hook as soon as Yuri was within range.

This is where his agility and speed as a dancer came in. He kept dodging, moving out of the way as soon as he was within reach, and coiling back to strike when Flynn was trying to recover. He missed a step in his rhythm and Flynn was on him in a flash, pummeling him for a few hits before he was able to get away. He didn't begrudge him getting his hits in. He was glad that this wasn't going to be /too/ one-sided, but after almost a minute of fighting, Yuri was ready to end this.

Flynn paused for a breath, for just the barest second. He wasn't a struggling as much as Yuri expected, but was taking this in stride. His temper was still getting the better of him and Yuri used that to his advantage. He charged for a series of steps, feigning a right hook and when Flynn moved left to dodge him, he switched his weight to the left and countered with a solid blow to Flynn's face.

The impact sent the blond to the floor, and Yuri was left standing over him, panting.

"Not too bad, Blondie." He reached down to help him up.

Flynn looked at his hand a little warily, but Yuri's defenses were down and open. The fight was over and they both knew it. He took the hand extended to him, and scramble to his feet. "You're pretty good."

"Thanks." Yuri pulled him forward by the hand he still held and pressed his lips against Flynn's.

The blond jolted back, surprised but not angry, his face growing very red very quickly.

"Offer still stands if you're up for it."

Flynn wiped his mouth absently, looking at Yuri from the corner of his eyes. The tension between them had to be plain even to him. Yuri was certain that he hadn't read him wrong. He broke the silence finally with an easy tone to his voice. It was a confidence that surprised him a bit. "Sure."

"Your place or mine?"

They made it to the door of Flynn's apartment, but only barely. He fumbled with the key to let them in, swearing as it stuck in the lock, but thankful that all of his unpacking was done and that the bed had arrived only the day before. They stumbled in, and he locked the door as quickly as his shaking fingers could manage between tugging at Yuri's clothing and pulling his face back for further, hot, sweet kisses.

"Nice place you've got here," Yuri panted, pulling back long enough to get a quick look around.

"I'll give you the tour later." Flynn's place wasn't huge or terribly impressive, but it was nice enough.

He shed his coat, and tangled his hands in Yuri's hair as the dark haired man was trying to get his coat off as well. The whole time, they kept moving across the floor of the apartment, until they reached the door of Flynn's bedroom at the end of the short hall. He withdrew his hand from the belt of Yuri's pants just long enough to throw the door open, and maneuver them to the bed.

Yuri kissed him deeply, his mouth almost too hot for Flynn to handle and his tongue as graceful as the rest of his body. He pulled back for a breath, teasing Flynn, and dove back in, moving one of his hands up Flynn's shirt and across his abdomen. Yuri pushed him onto the bed, which sunk beneath him a little, and straddled him.

Flynn fought with him open mouthed, moaning a little as Yuri's hands pulled more of his shirt up, exposing his skin further. He tugged harder on the end of Yuri's belt, fighting with the buckle that was giving him so much trouble. He finally undid it with a click, and clawed to get Yuri's shirt off. Yuri obliged, pulling back from the kiss just long enough to pull the fabric off, and then Flynn's before continuing the fierce, fiery, and wonderful kisses.

He ran his hands up that long, pale, slender form, feeling muscles in each of his movements that, although lean, were strong. Flynn let his fingers tangle in and pull a little at Yuri's long, very silky hair. He groaned slightly as Yuri's knee slid between his legs against his growing heat and felt Yuri smirk into the kiss. Flynn grabbed the waistband of Yuri's pants, ready to expose more hot, white skin, and further sate his desire.

Yuri wriggled out of them deftly, letting them drop on the floor beside the bed. He pinned Flynn down on top of the bed, and knelt over him, planting hot, wet kisses down his chest and abdomen. He wasted no time with the buckle on Flynn's belt and removed the whole thing with a snap.

Flynn had been with a few lovers, but no one like this. He was bold and brazen and moved with confidence and speed, and Flynn liked that. He was also aggressive, and while Flynn wasn't used to that, he didn't mind at all.

His pants joined Yuri's on the floor after a moment, and finally there was nothing separating them.

Yuri straddled him, hips pressed against his, just as hard as he was. He ground against Flynn, tremors of moans that sounded like a symphony erupting from his pale throat. He hadn't noticed before how lovely Yuri's voice was until it was this hot and making these sounds that were driving Flynn mad. He wanted to hear more, he wanted to touch more, he wanted all of Yuri, so much that were would be nothing separating them.

When the sensation of their hips together became almost too much to stand, Yuri pulled back, panting softly and knelt between Flynn's legs.

"We're missing a few things here."

Flynn sat up a little, having been too caught up in the moment to even think about the preparations an act like this required. He was in luck once more. From the drawer of his nightstand, he pulled a pack of condoms and bottle of lube.

Yuri leaned over, kissing him again, a sensation that was maddening, and took the pack and bottle. He pulled away smirking. "I hope you don't mind me topping."

That quelled the lust surging in Flynn's brain very briefly. "Wait. What?"

"Is it that big a deal?"

It wasn't that Flynn had never bottomed. It just wasn't something he was used to, and it wasn't something that he expected from Yuri, but after being floored on the mat, he really should have. The idea of someone so slender and graceful pounding him into the mattress seemed strange. "Not really."

"Good." Yuri ripped open the foil package with his teeth and spat it on the floor after retrieving the condom. He took just a few seconds to roll it on snugly before turning his attention back to Flynn. "I do have a performance tomorrow. Can't have my back and hips hurting."

He poured some of the lube out onto his fingers and smeared it around before lowering his hand to Flynn's entrance. His slid in the first finger and Flynn stretched and squirmed a little as he moved it. He moaned a little under his breath, which was a sound that Yuri seemed to relish, and he moved his finger a little harder and added the second. He bucked slightly against them, the noises coming from his mouth getting a little louder. Right at the peak of a moan, Yuri pressed in his third finger, causing Flynn to gasp and moan further.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

He groaned a little as the fingers left him and were replaced by the heat of Yuri against him.

Yuri leaned over him, hands planted in the comforter on either side of Flynn. His dark hair fell around them in a curtain, blocking out the lights that shone in the window. He kissed Flynn again, deepening it after a moment, but pulling back just as he entered Flynn slowly until he was all the way inside him.

Flynn arched, leaning back into the pillow, fingers digging into the bed as he adjusted to a feeling he had not known in a while. The heat and length inside of him had always taken some getting used to, and this was no different. After a few deep breaths, his body eased and allowed Yuri to keep going.

He thrust into him, a little slow at first to set the pace, listening to Flynn. He was making noises he had never heard himself make as Yuri moved in him, a sensation that was hot and wonderful and overpowering. He was surprised at first how well the slender Yuri fit between his legs, but in this moment, he didn't care. The pleasure that was shooting through him, white hot like fire was all he cared about.

Yuri wasn't stingy with his movements. He allowed the pace to increase and the pressure of his force against Flynn, and Flynn made no argument against it. He would slow to tease him, and then speed up suddenly and then pull back just as he felt he could handle no more and was ready for release. For many long, wonderful moments, he teased Flynn like this and didn't get a single complaint out of him. Not that Flynn could do much in the way of talking with all the moaning he was doing. All he knew was that this was amazing and that his body wanted more. Yuri seemed to have no problem fulfilling that urge and satisfying his body's overwhelming desire. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than the movements of Yuri inside him, of his hot, wet, hungry mouth against Flynn's, of his everything and his all.

Flynn held back from ecstasy as long as he could, but with what Yuri was doing to him, there was no hope in staving it off forever. Yuri pressed into him hard one last time, and Flynn's heat exploded and he was left panting and shaking and satisfied. Yuri pulled out and finished against him a moment and a hot, aching groan later.

Their kisses cooled and breathing calmed. He hoped that Yuri felt as good as he had. He would have liked to return the favor as soon as possible, but they were both spent, and with an upcoming performance, showing Yuri just as a good time was simply out of the question.

Between the kisses and the touches, Flynn felt himself drift away into sleep as Yuri mumbled something about staying the night and hunkered down beside him. He nodded a reply to a question that he wasn't even sure was a question and let sleep take him.

All in all, living in a new city wasn't off to a bad start. He could get used to this, and hoped that he had the chance to.

END Act I